10 Chaos

“W-wait a minute!”
Lussen’s chaotic kisses covered his mouth, and Bai Wei could feel the other man’s hands sliding down his waist. Even the dullest person would understand that this time, Lussen wanted far more than a kiss.
There was also that so-called “duty” between husband and wife.
Their well-maintained, sexless marriage was now teetering on the edge, endangered by Lussen’s repeated advances. How had things come to this? Bai Wei would always remember that, from the very beginning, all he’d wanted was to kill his husband.
There was nothing in this small room that Bai Wei was familiar with, not even a weapon by the bed that could be used to smash Lussen’s head. He began to regret not having practiced holding his breath. Lussen, with his overwhelming size and strength, pinned him down so that he couldn’t escape. The man, brimming with aggression, lifted Bai Wei’s thigh and murmured, “Don’t be afraid, darling…”
“Stop—stop—stop—I said stop!”
Bai Wei was forced to do what he hated most. He shouted, screeching the word “stop” over and over, like a panicked, out-of-control victim.
Fortunately, Lussen stopped.
Their bodies separated. In that moment, Bai Wei saw just how compromising their positions were. He was gasping for breath, his shirt completely unbuttoned, exposing his pale torso and lean abs under the light, the lines from his waist to his hips entirely laid bare. Lussen’s hand was still holding his left thigh. His husband looked at him with a puzzled, displeased, searching gaze.
“Why did you make me stop?” Lussen asked. “We’re married, aren’t we?”
Bai Wei was speechless. “Because…”
“Don’t you like me?” Lussen pressed.
What was Bai Wei supposed to say? He had to tell Lussen that he liked him. Bai Wei began to consider the possibility of accepting this fact. He was asexual; in the worst-case scenario, he would simply endure Lussen’s demands, lying numb and motionless all night. No, not numb—this would probably be painful. His body was not pliable like clay; it was tense, could tear, could hurt.
Especially given Lussen’s size, Bai Wei had no intention of making sacrifices that would land him in the hospital. The mere thought of being rushed to the ER in the middle of the night made Bai Wei so furious he wanted to kill Lussen all over again.
So he took a deep breath and offered the most honest answer—something he’d never thought he would reveal to Lussen.
“I’m asexual,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
His words sounded almost bureaucratic. After a moment, he added, “Husband.”
Lussen didn’t answer—no accusations, no comfort. Bai Wei kept his eyes shut. Finally, he heard Lussen get out of bed with a rustle.
…
Ridiculous.
This was the absurd and sorrowful reality of their marriage. Bai Wei hadn’t understood Lussen’s sudden excitement the past few days. But now, in this moment, he was back in the life he knew—how things were supposed to be. Even loving couples often felt dissatisfied by such matters, much less their twisted, bizarre household.
But Lussen merely left the bed, not the room—it was bare, apart from a bed, a small chair, and a table. Bai Wei couldn’t understand what he was doing. He cracked open one eye and saw that Lussen, this giant, was pitifully curled up on the big chair.
Still playing on his phone.
“Oh—you’re awake,” Lussen looked over. “I’m searching ‘asexuality’.”
Bai Wei: …
Lussen looked a bit embarrassed. “Honestly, I’m not very clear on this sort of thing. I want to see if it’s caused by some deficiency. Just to confirm—it’s a lack of libido, not like, after mating, you devour your partner for energy, right?”
—Did Lussen think he was a female mantis?
Again, Bai Wei was convinced his husband was an idiot. Is this what French exchange students were like? When Lussen was studying in France, did he even do his weekly assignments himself, or just pay someone else?
Bai Wei took a deep breath. He wanted to storm out, but this was the only room in the repair shop. In the end, he lay back down, pulling the covers over himself.
This time, Bai Wei was actually wronging Lussen. Lussen was researching medical journals, trying to discover what deficiency might cause this. He thought he might be able to synthesize and secrete some substance—a substance that could help. But he didn’t know if it would work for Bai Wei.
Bai Wei thought under the covers for a while. He decided that an argument was the least of his worries; if this upset Lussen enough to make him refuse to bring the car back the next day, that would be a bigger problem.
So, when Lussen returned to bed, Bai Wei, steeling himself, crawled over to Lussen’s chest beneath the quilt and whispered, “Husband.”
Lussen patted his back in comfort. The gesture made Bai Wei feel oddly safe. Resting on Lussen’s chest, he whispered, “Are you angry?”
“No, I was just thinking…” Lussen replied, “Thinking about what to do…”
His mind was full of the idea that the synthesized pheromone needed adjustment. He wanted Bai Wei to feel good, but not to overdo it.
Bai Wei’s face was cold. Luckily, buried under the quilt, no one could see his expression. He spoke to Lussen’s chest, “Aren’t we supposed to be each other’s spouses? Didn’t we promise before the altar that only death could part us? So, just because I can’t sleep with you, you don’t consider me your partner anymore?”
“I never meant that,” Lussen replied, slipping his hand beneath the covers, wanting to pull Bai Wei out and look him in the eyes to say this.
Bai Wei must be heartbroken. Look at him, hiding under the covers, not showing his face—he must be sobbing quietly…
But then, a cool hand slid over, as cold and smooth as a white snake.
“I have other ways,” Bai Wei’s voice was icy, soft, yet carried a deadly allure. “Husband.”
Lussen threw back the covers. He saw Bai Wei lying there, pale-skinned, feline eyes glowing in the night, his chin sharp and delicate.
He looked like a cold, supple, beautiful yet dangerous white serpent.
…

The next morning, Bai Wei wore an expressionless face and washed his hands three times in the bathroom.
When it was all over, he leaned against the bathroom door and let out a long sigh.
Last night, Lussen had decided to help him. It was hard to imagine that Lussen’s large hands could be so gentle and deft. If there were any world-class crime syndicates out there, they would surely covet Lussen’s hands.
However, no matter what Lussen did, Bai Wei had no reaction at all.
He wasn’t surprised. At fifteen, he’d already tried all this. With women, with men, it was always the same—no pleasure, no physiological response. The doctors said he was perfectly healthy; maybe his brain simply lacked something, so he couldn’t feel that kind of “pleasure.”
Later, Bai Wei offered to help Lussen, but midway through, Lussen refused. He seemed quite depressed. He felt the night shouldn’t be one-sided; he didn’t want it to be just his happiness alone.
But Bai Wei’s hand had already touched Lussen. That was why he kept washing his hands.
Before heading out, Bai Wei composed himself for a while in a chair. Still, he felt awkward and uncomfortable, as though someone had barged into the privacy of his own room. What unsettled him most was having to be honest with Lussen—even if it was through a quilt and nothing could be seen. It still felt uncomfortably sincere.
“Maybe after he’s dead, in half a year or a year, I’ll forget this ever happened. It’s not a difficult thing to forget.”
He remembered, suddenly, something he’d read after fainting during a punishment from his grandfather at eleven.
“Life won’t always be painful.”
Lussen had gone into the city to fetch the car. Bai Wei took the chance to drive to another small town on the outskirts of Blackport to have keys made. Near Blackport, as long as you had money, anything could be done. The locksmith didn’t ask questions, just turned the two bars of soap into two keys.
“Did you hear? Those ‘outsiders’ have pissed off the Blackport cops. Yesterday they had a chase all through the streets and alleys.”
Two men beside the shop were chatting.
“There are more and more weirdos in Blackport. Those ‘outsiders’ say they’re just here to catch serial killers and will leave when the job’s done. They have a list full of all kinds of weird codenames…”
“Hah? Serial killers? Blackport’s full of them anyway.”
The two thugs tossed their cigarettes and gum onto the street. Bai Wei stood in the dim corner of the locksmith’s shop, his expression cold.
Blackport once had clean shores. Twenty years ago, he and his mother had lived here, until big corporations, gangs, drug abuse, and vagrants from all over turned Blackport into the mess it was now.
Bai Wei’s urge to clean up the city was stirring again. But the blacksmith called him over.
“Here’s one key. The other will cost you extra,” said the bespectacled old man.
“Why?” Bai Wei eyed the old man’s price hike.
“Hey, it’s not a rip-off, don’t get me wrong. It’s risk management.” The old man raised his hands—a slick character, surviving on the city’s edge. “You’re copying the vault key for Blackport’s best underground bank; what’s wrong with charging more?”
“The underground bank vault client’s key…” The words actually startled Bai Wei.
“If anything goes wrong, you can’t pin it on me,” the old man warned.
Bai Wei had no more time to think about cleaning the city; he took the two finished keys and drove back to Snow Mountain Town. On the road, he kept thinking, incredulous, about two things.
First, he still hadn’t managed to get the cellar key! And he’d even bought Lussen clothes for it!
Second, how could Lussen have a key to Blackport’s underground bank vault?
The underground bank vault only served private clients, especially those with massive, often shady wealth. Lussen was the blind date his grandfather had found—a man whose family had emigrated overseas, ran two department stores, had some means but wasn’t super rich. Lussen had studied abroad, dabbled in international business, was a mediocre student who didn’t know much common sense, and had become a mechanic in Snow Mountain Town because of his hobby for modifying cars. That was what Bai Wei’s grandfather and Lussen himself had told him.
How could someone with such a simple background have a key to Blackport’s underground bank vault?
Back at the repair shop, suspicions about Lussen’s background drove Bai Wei to search every drawer and box. He didn’t find the cellar key—who knew what was hidden down there—but he did discover that the shop’s account book had vanished, clearly hidden by Lussen.
Bai Wei sat alone in the shop, pondering, his face shifting from dark to light and back again. Just a week ago, he’d thought things were simple: kill his resurrected husband, collect the life insurance, and leave Snow Mountain Town. That should’ve been the plan.
But now, things were getting more complicated.
Bai Wei had always known Lussen was no good.
Before his death, Lussen had seemed the perfect gentleman—cultured, refined, only lying to Bai Wei about his profession. Apart from that, he seemed normal enough. Even the day before he was shot, Lussen refused to explain his job, but was still planning their trip to the museum.
After being shot and clawing his way out of the grave, Lussen had transformed into an out-and-out villain. He dropped all pretense, especially after arriving in Snow Mountain Town. Since then, in Bai Wei’s eyes, Lussen was a monstrous, dreadful, undead creature.
And a liar.
Lussen wasn’t a top student; he couldn’t tell a master’s from a doctorate (so where had all his knowledge come from?). Lussen knew nothing of ballroom etiquette. He could fly planes and drive submarines but never explained how. He claimed to love art, yet could spot the subtlest difference in engine materials but couldn’t tell Van Gogh from Picasso… Lussen was full of lies, even deceiving Bai Wei about death itself. Perhaps his soul had lingered out of attachment to this world; after being shot in the head, he’d crawled out of the grave and simply continued being Bai Wei’s husband.
Bai Wei had once wondered if his own memory was at fault. Maybe Lussen had never died, and everything in Naples was just a hallucination caused by the anxiety of newlywed life. He spent two months in Snow Mountain Town, testing again and again whether Lussen was really alive. In the four months that followed, he endured Lussen’s domestic habits.
In the end, it wasn’t the supernatural that drove him mad, but Lussen’s way of living.
He finally decided to get rid of this undead husband.
Trying to kill Lussen made Bai Wei become even more familiar with him. Marriage was supposed to bring honesty and understanding, yet he’d only discovered more of Lussen’s secrets.

“Lussen’s abilities… or his background, might be beyond my imagination. Perhaps what happened in Naples wasn’t an accident but an enemy seeking revenge. Lussen staged his own death and then found me, bringing me to Snow Mountain Town as if nothing had happened.”
Could it be that Lussen wasn’t a monster? But if that was so, someone as calculating as Lussen was even more terrifying than a monster.
Bai Wei couldn’t imagine what his goal was, or what he intended for him. Lussen must be using this marriage to gain or hide something.
He had to find a way to break free. Bai Wei already knew what would happen if he tried to leave—Lussen would definitely find him.
It was frightening, dangerous, and yet… exhilarating. The prospect of a battle of wits was actually thrilling.
And then there was…
“Lussen’s life insurance policy… is it real?”
…
“Darling, I parked the car in the backyard,” Lussen entered through the roller door, cheeks flushed, stifling a yawn. “Strange… I’m a bit sleepy…”
He was greeted by Bai Wei’s smiling face. “Husband, you’re back.”
Bai Wei must have spent the day at the repair shop. He’d hired two temps to clean it until it gleamed and was now sitting in a lounge chair reading. The spotless shop and the flowers on the counter were, in Lussen’s eyes, symbols of human “love.” It felt miraculous to him, to receive so much human affection.
Lussen gazed at his “wife” in black-and-white striped loungewear. Bai Wei’s cat-like eyes crinkled with a smile. There was a repair shop in this small town, a bedroom for the boss, and Bai Wei waiting for him to return home.
He thought, this domestic script is becoming more and more convincing.
In that moment, Lussen felt proud—he had managed to “act out” a home like this. His relationship with Bai Wei gave him an increasing sense of accomplishment.
Today, the used car dealer had tried to extort him, bringing two thugs and demanding another fifty thousand to buy back his car. Lussen didn’t like threats. He tied them up and dumped them in a small cove in Blackport, took their money, and drove home.
He’d done it all cleanly—made money on the weekend and brought the car back. Since Bai Wei loved him so much, he would play the good husband. So, before coming home, he washed his hands thoroughly.
Bai Wei fussed over him and sent him to cook dinner. Taking the opportunity to check the car in the backyard, Bai Wei found his traps intact and undisturbed.
—What on earth is going on! Bai Wei thought, dismantling his traps with a scowl.
He finally decided on an explanation: Lussen was just incredibly lucky. It hadn’t rained or snowed yesterday. Lussen had rolled down all the car windows on the highway, letting the wind sweep away all the carbon monoxide.
Who drives with all the windows down? Wouldn’t the noise drive him mad? Bai Wei was more convinced than ever that he couldn’t live another day with Lussen.
He carefully destroyed the traps. Previously, he’d done it to avoid future buyers dying and exposing his actions. Now, he was afraid Lussen would find them. These days, he was wary of Lussen.
From now on, I’ll have to use more subtle domestic accidents to do the job, Bai Wei thought.
If all goes as he suspects, Lussen is very meticulous…
And then Bai Wei smelled it—the pervasive stench filling the repair shop.
Cheap, pungent, instant noodle seasoning.
Bai Wei’s nerves instantly tightened.
He’d left marinated beef, sliced carrots, onions, and cherry tomatoes in the kitchen… and what had Lussen done?
“Darling, you’re back,” Lussen looked up from his computer. “Dinner’s ready.”
He closed the screen, hiding the email from his mercenary friend.
…He called this dinner?
The marinated beef, cut carrots, onions, mushrooms, celery, and fresh tomatoes were all boiled together in a single pot of instant noodles—Lussen hadn’t even forgotten the seasoning packet. After witnessing this chaos, Bai Wei took three deep breaths. At last, he put on a polite smile. “Thank you for your effort.”
He picked up a piece of carrot and chewed it slowly. Opposite him, Lussen, as if he had no taste buds, quickly finished his bowl.
Bai Wei suspected that perhaps Lussen wasn’t pretending to be dead—at least, his mouth must be. Otherwise, how could he eat such things? He tried hard to see some cunning motive in Lussen’s behavior.
He barely ate. Lussen volunteered to wash the dishes. Before going, he came over. “Can I kiss you?”
Bai Wei let him kiss his cheek.
—Lussen’s mouth wasn’t dead; it could still kiss—terrifying!
Bai Wei went to the bathroom and scrubbed his face hard. When he was done, he returned to the room, only to find Lussen watching him.
“What is it?” Bai Wei asked.
“I feel like you’re upset. Why won’t you say it?” Lussen asked, puzzled.