Free Web NovelChapter 196: I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE
Shen Zihao’s expression shifted almost immediately.
It wasn’t the usual fracture of composure turning into controlled rage, because Guiying had seen that version of him before, and it always came with structure and predictability, something the mind could still map and survive.
This was not that.
Something behind his face cracked in a way that refused order, and when his mouth opened, what came out did not carry control or restraint, only force that felt dragged out of him rather than spoken.
"This isn’t even about you." His voice rose too quickly, breaking upward under strain rather than emotion, sharp and unsteady under pressure. "I didn’t come here for you..."
He grabbed Guiying.
Both hands locked around his arms, fingers biting into muscle with immediate force that pinned him in place and made his breath catch sharply as pain flared through his shoulders and locked his body still.
Shen Zihao pulled him forward until there was no space left between them.
"Give him back."
Guiying did not answer, confused.
Give who back?
"Give me Ren Hao back." His grip tightened again, and the pain sharpened until it felt like it was pressing into bone. "Where did you take him? He is mine. He belongs to me. How dare you take him from me?"
His voice rose in violent repetition, not breaking into grief or collapse, only intensifying in instability as rage and something deeper collided behind his eyes.
"I don’t know who you are talking about," Guiying said through clenched teeth.
"DON’T LIE TO ME."
The shout snapped through the space as Shen Zihao shook him once, hard, grip never loosening, breath coming fast and uneven but still anchored in anger rather than sorrow.
"You took him," he said, voice rough with strain. "You hid him somewhere. I know you did. Tell me where he is."
"Even if I knew," Guiying forced out, voice strained under pain and pressure, "why would I send him back to you? You need help, Shen Zihao, not Ren Hao. What you need is a doctor."
Something shifted in Shen Zihao’s face.
Not softness.
Not breakdown.
A colder compression, as though something inside him folded inward instead of breaking outward.
"No." His grip stayed locked. "Ren Hao is the one I want. I’ll forget everything else if you give him back. Tell me where you are keeping him."
Guiying looked at him then, really looked, and saw red-rimmed eyes, uneven breathing, and something unstable sitting under the violence like it had been there long before this moment began.
But it was still aimed at him.
"TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE KEEPING HIM."
Guiying’s shoulder burned under the pressure, his breath tightening as his body started to struggle against the hold.
"Let me go," Guiying said, voice breaking slightly under strain. "You’re hurting me... I can’t... I can’t breathe properly..."
"Tell me where he is," Shen Zihao repeated, voice rising again with force rather than emotion. "Why did you take him from me? Answer me."
The crack of a gunshot split the garden open.
The sound hit stone, tree, and earth, and rebounded through the enclosed space until everything froze completely still.
"You heard him, bastard."
The voice came from the archway.
"Let him go or I’ll blow your fucking head off."
ShangYan stood there with one arm extended, gun level, face calm in a way that carried no hesitation at all, as though the decision had already been made long before the moment arrived.
Shen Zihao’s hands loosened slowly.
He stayed for a moment longer, chest rising and falling hard, eyes still locked on Guiying, something flickering behind them that looked like intent struggling against itself before it disappeared.
Then he stepped back.
Walked past ShangYan without a word.
And left through the archway.
Silence fell.
Heavy and complete.
Guiying stood under the plum tree as the absence of pressure hit him all at once, his arms trembling slightly as pain finally registered fully through his shoulders and down into his body.
The pheromones lingered in the air, thick and invasive, pressing against his senses and making his breathing uneven as the adrenaline drained out of him too quickly.
He did not cry yet.
He couldn’t. Not yet.
His breath came unstable, shallow, as though his body had not decided what to do with itself after surviving something that still felt like it was happening.
ShangYan lowered the gun and tucked it away.
Then he walked over.
"Are you hurt?" His voice was steady but immediate. "Did that bastard hurt you?"
Guiying did not answer right away.
His lips parted, but what came out first was an uneven breath that failed halfway, his shoulders tightening slightly as he tried to stabilize himself.
"I..." His voice broke softly. "I think... it still feels like he’s holding me..."
Another breath hitched, sharper this time, and his fingers trembled at his sides as the aftermath settled into his body.
ShangYan stepped closer and pulled him into a hold that was firm enough to ground him but gentle enough not to trap him, cutting through the lingering pressure in the air like something clean breaking through suffocation.
Then his voice lowered.
"Do you feel like crying?" he said quietly near his ear. "You must be so tired. Cry if you want to. I know what it feels like to be powerless."
That was when it broke.
Guiying grabbed his jacket.
His breath collapsed into an uneven rhythm as his body folded forward, and when he tried to speak, the words came out broken by constant interruption from his own breathing.
"I can’t..." His voice cracked. "I can’t do this anymore..."
A sharp inhale cut through him.
"It hurts... it hurts so much..." His shoulders trembled as he tried again. "I don’t understand why it’s always me..."
His voice fractured again as breath kept breaking the structure of his speech.
"What did I do... why does it always come back to me..."
Another inhale failed halfway.
"I’m so tired..." His voice shook. "I don’t want to feel like this anymore..."
ShangYan held him through it without interruption, letting the collapse run its course instead of trying to stop it.
Only when the intensity began to slow did he lift Guiying’s face gently and wipe his cheeks with both hands.
Then he held Guiying’s hands.
"I’ll tell you a secret," he said.
Guiying looked at him, eyes glassy and unfocused, chest still shaking in uneven recovery.
"Something that has helped me over the years," ShangYan continued.
"You are you," he said. "And you will always be you. The only opinion that matters is your own."
He tightened his hold slightly.
"Their words hurt. I know they do. But don’t let them live inside you. Look at what you have. A husband who loves you. Good friends. A grandfather who has been waiting all evening just to sit beside you."
A pause.
"And you have me. We are family, Guiying. So don’t cry anymore. You are not alone. You will always have us."
By the time he finished, the worst of the shaking had begun to ease.
ShangYan wiped the last tear carefully, studying his face for a moment longer than necessary.
"You really are like your mother," he said quietly. "Always quick to tears."
Something flickered in Guiying’s expression, but it did not fully form into a question.
ShangYan smiled before it could.
"Let’s go back," he said. "Things are about to get interesting."
He turned and guided him toward the archway.
At the entrance, half-hidden in shadow, Liuxian stood watching everything without moving.
He had seen it all.
But he did not step forward.
Instead, after a long pause, he stepped back into the shadow and let them pass.
What Guiying needed at the moment was his father, not his husband.
