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Folie à deux

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Xie Wang pulls up his knife, cutting off the pesky tendon connecting the last finger left to the knuckle of the man’s hand. There’s a defeated whimper, one similar to an animal in absolute agony, before the bastard drops down to the bloodied floor, nursing his fingerless hand against his chest.


“I did warn you, if you didn’t have our money or our merchandise in time, I would come and collect my prize from your very own flesh, didn’t I?” Xie Wang wipes the hunting knife on the cloth one of his henchmen hands him, examines the shining sharp edge and his reflection in it.


“Please, Xie Wang Zǒng! Give me a week, a single week and I’ll have your money and your merchandise?” The man bows, keeping his injured hand out from under himself, a foolish move considering Xie Wang’s boot is so near it.


To no one’s surprise, Xie Wang steps on the open wounds, turning his foot a couple of times to grind the flesh against the gravel under it. The man howls, Xie Wang laughs out loud and moves his foot away, then proceeds to clean the heavy duty sole on the man’s hair.


“You said the exact same thing three times before, and it was due to Xiānshēng Zhao’s benevolence that I granted you an extension. So you must understand why I can’t let this third time slide.” Xie Wang kicks the man on the ribs, forcing him to turn to his side, then kicks him again on the face to get him even more off-balance than before and force him into his back easier. When he’s facing up, Xie Wang stands with his full weight on the man’s hand, pressing his other boot against his chest, stopping it from expanding to breathe in some air. “If you’d offended me, I would consider your pathetic whining, but you disrespected my yìfù. And I can’t let anyone disrespect him.”


“Please...” The man gasps, making an extraordinary effort to breathe in some air, opening his mouth wide as if that would counteract Xie Wang’s intention weight on his ribcage. 


Xie Wang hears gunshots behind him, near a couple of guards by the door, not so close he’s in any danger. Still, he steps away from the man after a quick, cold order, delivered with a joyful smile, of staying where he is.


Excited, he grabs the weapon his yìfù has labeled as vain, unnecessary and ineffective, but that doesn’t fail to give Xie Wang a thrill that no other implement he’s used, not even his beloved pliers, have ever done. To onlookers it’s a mere antiquity that cost him a small fortune to repair, however the moment Xie Wang had it in his hand, he knew it had been waiting for him.


The foolish woman, confident with a petty semi-automatic pistol that he clearly forgot to count the shots for, points the gun at him and pulls the trigger. There’s a click instead of a bang, and the woman paralyzes.


“Lovely. My turn.” Xie Wang whispers, as if they were sharing a secret and she’s not a cornered prey facing a sadistic and hungry predator. 


With a motion of Xie Wang’s hand, the sharp point of the iron hook pierces the side of the woman’s chest, destroying part of it on his way out. With a pull, it’s pulled out, tearing and ripping out anything softer than iron on its path. The woman collapses to the ground, gasping for air, choking in her own blood, looking up at Xie Wang with a mix of hatred and fear.


Xie Wang tilts his head, deciding to take a moment to watch the light in her eyes goes off, but his moment of inner peace is interrupted by a high pitched, feminine laughter, and fastly approaching tip-tapping of the ridiculously heeled boots Du Pusa prefers.


“Da Wang,” She demands his attention. In fake annoyance, Xie Wang looks up, not rolling his eyes but nearly. “I wanted her. She was so beautiful and you ruined her for me.”


“You mean to tell me she escaped you, stealing a gun.” Xie Wang pulls the same cloth he used for the hunting knife to clean the iron hook, Du Pusa hums and steps closer.


“I gave her a gun with a single shot. I told her to run and hide, that she could leave if I didn’t find her. It’s not my fault she ran straight to you and shot that one.” Du Pusa points at the scorpion thug with a hole in his head. “He had a promising future.”


“Did you know him?” Xie Wang asks, furrowing his brow at the sudden attempt of care over a dead henchman. Du Pusa pouts and shakes her head.


“I didn’t, Da Wang. But a life is a life, and he had such a bright future.” Du Pusa laughs and turns around, casually returning to whatever he’s doing with the ladies she picked to play with. Such an exhausting woman who forced a place in Xie Wang’s heart somewhere, somehow.


With that business over and done with, he returns to the main focus of his attention, only to find that he’s no longer by himself and watched by other scorpions. Now, sitting in the only decent chair in the entire warehouse, Zhao Jing waits for Xie’er, a ridiculous disposable cup in hand as he sips what must be tea below what his yìfù deserves.


After handing his iron hook to the guards by the door, Xie’er hurries to meet him, heart beating fast like any other time he gets to gaze upon his yìfù, drinking every detail of his perfectly tailored suit, his perfectly polished shoes and his equally pristine demeanor. Complimenting his attire would mean complimenting himself, so instead he chooses to compliment Zhao Jing for being so handsome he outshines such an exquisite outfit


“Yìfù.” Xie’er stands like a good boy, bloody hands clasped behind his back. “Xie’er didn’t expect you to come and watch, but Xie’er is honored by your present.”


“Xie’er,” he chuckles and stretches a hand, offering it so Xie’er will kneel before him and chase the touch he’s being offered. “Of course you didn’t expect me to come. But I wanted to see what my little barbarian does when he’s playing to be the boss.”


The fellow scorpions keep their sight to the front, used to strange things happening from their bosses. The man on the floor however, laughs hysterically at the absurd display of whatever is transpiring between them.


“yìfù, Xie’er does only what you order him to do. You ordered a cruel method, thus I’m only getting started. I had planned a large arrangement of creative activities to show that pig that no one disrespects you and gets away with it.” Xie’er smiles up, and Zhao Jing laughs, reaching down to pull him back on his feet from his kneeling position.


“Very well, my Xie’er. Do you know what he stole from us?” Zhao Jing asks, aware that Xie’er nods. Xie’er shakes his head, knowing it’s all part of a show so his yìfù can tell the man why he’s getting killed. “He stole raw materials that would turn into thirty million kuài. And what did he tell you when you ask for the money if he didn’t have the merchandise?”


“He said he would pay with added interest.” Xie’er nods, looking sweetly at his yìfù, his boss, his true love. His expression changes however, when his gaze turns back to the man on the floor, becoming once again Xie Wang. “Yet, I fail to see a single yuan. Again.”


“I’ll transfer the money!” The man shouts, crawling to get closer to both of them. Disgusted by the prospect of that vermin touching his yìfù, Xie Wang hurries to kick him back and push him away like it’s nothing. In several precise motions, he slashes the back of his knees and digs his knife in his shoulder joint, successfully paralyzing him.


“That was fast!” Zhao Jing laughs and claps. “You are fast, my Xie’er. Now explain this man how he already paid for all he lost for us, along with the interests, but we came here to collect something else.”


“Yes, yìfù.” Xie’er turns to grab a meat hook and before he explains, he lodges it between the man’s shoulder blade, managing to hook it between the ribs, luckily avoiding the lug. He drags him back by that and attaches him to the chain on the cargo area to keep him upright. “We took the money from your accounts. Which is a shame to the family that will outlive you, but this is your fault.” Xie Wang orders his men to pull on the chain to lift him properly. “Now we’re here to collect your life because you didn’t value it when we gifted it to you twice, I also came here to collect your flesh and your bones to grind them into feed, which in turn will be of better use than as something that contains a creature as lowly as you.”


“P...” The man tries to beg but pain overtakes him. His body falls into shock, shutting off all feedback from outside and refusing to control itself. The sound of liquid trickling into the raw concrete fills the silence, and a horrible foul smell follows.


“Disgusting.” Zhao Jing pulls a handkerchief from the pocket on his jacket and covers his mouth and nose. “He was a good for nothing even at enduring torture. Is he dead yet?”


“Almost there.” Xie Wang watches his gaze zone out, his lips move as a leftover reflex and his body spasms as a cardiac arrest grasps his heart. Xie Wang watches him closely, drinking in the way he dies, learning every new detail unique to each person. The body keeps twitching for a while, until all motion that is left is the aftermath of swinging from that chain.


“That was disappointing.” Xie Wang states and gestures to the men to let go of the chain, so the literal dead weight drops to the floor, making a gruesome slapping noise of flesh and waste. “I swear I had planned for it to last longer, but the lucky bastard came with a heart defect.” 


“I believe you.” Zhao Jing keeps his nose and face covered. “Get yourself ready and join me, let your men handle the rest. Du Pusa and Quiao Luohan are here, right?” Xie’er nods. “Very well, then clean up, I brought you a set of clothes and better shoes than those. I felt like going for dinner, for a job well done.”


Xie’er hurries a couple of steps to join his side, excited at the prospect of reward. Zhao Jing nearly wraps his arm around his shoulders, but remembers he’s filthy, so he pulls back. For once, Xie’er doesn’t mind, he understands. 




Zhao Jing and Xie Wang walk into the restaurant, side by side. At a distant property so no one will make a fuss about their relationship, but close enough that it’s clear they’re more than acquaintances. Xie Wang feels ecstatic as the hostess, the waiters and even the owner of the restaurant greet both of them as equal, as Zhao Jing introduces him as his beloved son. 


It’s been barely a few months since the head of Sanbai Corporations openly recognized him as an heir to his financial empire, as his trusted right hand and the future of the company. However, it’s been years since those who are allowed to get close to them, deep and behind their tableau vivant of familial devotion, know that what transpires between the two men is as twisted as the business they run where no one dares looking.


“yìfù,” Xie’er whispers, sitting closer to him once they’re in the private room reserved for dignitaries, for governors and those who can pay the privilege of being there. “Why are we really here?”


Zhao Jing turns to face him and cups Xie’er’s face with both hands. “Call me a sentimental fool, but I remember that today is the anniversary of the first time you blew me at a restaurant, so I wanted to celebrate.”


Xie’er laughs, a smile lingers on his lips as his expression gets clouded with adoration and lust. “You are a sentimental fool, yìfù. Xie’er loves you, nevertheless.”


“I know you love me, and I love you in return.” Zhao Jing places a kiss over Xie’er’s lips and on his forehead. “Now, show me with your mouth how else can you love me without words.”


Xie’er shifts on his seat, excited at the prospect of having his yìfù’s cock down his throat, to be allowed to choke on it in a place where anyone else would be detained and incarcerated for indecent exposure. Where those lessers than then two of them, would have to go to the bathroom to get anything like what Xie’er is about to do.


“And Xie’er.” Zhao Jing adds when Xie’er reaches for the button of his pants. Xie’er’s big doe eyes look up at him from where he stopped, Zhao Jing finds himself unable to finish that thought.  “Never mind. Do your worst and make me proud.”


Xie’er smiles and nods, then gets down to work. For others, celebrating such things would be frivolous and a mockery of a relationship, for Zhao Jing and Xie’er, is one more way of chasing thrills, one in which the man who holds the leash to a powerful beast of death, mocks the entire world that once looked down at him, showing them how not only he’s loved and worshiped by a creature such as Xie Wang, but he’s so powerful he can spit on the law and get away with it.


With a content sigh, he lets his head drop back and allows himself to enjoy the feeling of his lover’s mouth on his dick, while he entertains fantasies of what could happen if anyone dared trying to stop his lethal yizi. All the while, Xie’er drinks in the taste and the feeling of his yìfù’s cock, playing in his mind scenes of blood and death, fueling his love and lust in equal parts, as he prays to the gods for someone, anyone to dare come in and interrupt.