“How am I not comparable to him? Except for his identity, how is he better than me? Is the little prison guard looking down on me for being a prisoner?” Yue Linze’s voice was tinged with hurt, but his gaze was aggressive.
As soon as he spoke, Tao Yu came to her senses and saw this as an opportunity to educate him. She slowly said, “What makes him different? He has his own profession, his own plans, his own interests in life. But you? What do you have?”
She stared at him intently, hoping he would think about it. Yue Linze was caught off guard by her words, paused, then released her and laughed after a while, “I have a profession and plans too. Just wait, little prison guard. I’ll get Area Five in line, and they’ll perform for you every day.”
Tao Yu rolled her eyes and shooed him away like a chicken. Only after confirming Yue Linze had gone far did she furrow her brow and return to her dormitory.
That night, she couldn’t sleep well, her mind a mess. Finally, before dawn, she found a solution.
That night, Yue Linze, the leader of Area Six, was also unable to sleep. He dreamed all night, initially with jumbled scenes, but gradually a narrative emerged.
He dreamed of Tao Yu laughing and chatting with Zhou Ying. When he approached, Tao Yu ignored him completely, holding Zhou Ying’s hand and walking forward.
Angered, he snatched her away. The scene suddenly changed to a small room of just a few square meters, with a cold, hard bed and clothes scattered everywhere. In the corner by the wall, Tao Yu was forced against the wall, tears glistening in her eyes.
“This is your punishment for laughing with other men…” he whispered, breathing heavily as he kissed her earlobe.
…
Early the next morning, Yue Linze lifted a corner of his blanket, looking at his wet pants with a complex expression.
Yue Linze looked at her with interest, silently mourning for Li Xun’s bald head, wondering if it would still be as shiny after a few days in solitary confinement.
