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Chapter Text

The sunlight streamed through the skylight, bathing the kitchen in soft morning light. Shen Qingqiu puttered around the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on Qiu Haitang’s salad. He placed the freshly sliced tomatoes on top in a wide circle, just as she liked it.

He heard her come into the kitchen, the crisp click-clack of her shoes loud against their wooden floors. She coughed and cleared her throat, and with a kiss he wordlessly handed her a cup of tea he had especially bought for her troublesome cough.

“Good morning, darling,” he said as she sat down, handing her the salad as she checked her phone.

“Good morning, darling,” she replied, putting down her phone as he sat down with her. She glanced at his suit, and he caught the disapproval flashing across her face. She hated the moss green suit, the only one he had picked out himself. She had teased him about it in public once, but all her friends had complimented it, so she no longer voiced her disapproval. He appreciated her effort in trying to hide her displeasure.

“What’s your schedule for today?” he asked as he started on his own salad, the green leaved tasting bland in his mouth. Haitang was on another diet, and she preferred he ate the same as her whenever they shared a meal. It was no trouble for him, but he missed the more fulfilling breakfast foods that he favored.

“Back-to-back meetings all day, but I have an opening around one if you want to stop by for lunch?” She reached for her grapefruit and lemon juice, her long, red nails stark against the pink juice. He could feel his mouth salivating at the thought of drinking it. He had tried it once and found it far too sour and bitter for him. It was the one thing he wouldn’t digest in solidarity with her, no matter how often she offered it to him. Unlike him, she loved all things sour and bitter. Perhaps that was why she stayed with him.

He sipped his tea, a lovely seasonal blend, the contents so sweet it bordered on sugary. “I have that mentorship meeting at one, remember?”

She sighed. “If you quit you could have lunch with me every day,” she said, her coy smile ruined by another cough.

He smiled despite the irritation he felt. She dropped similar hints at least once a month. ‘Quit working, so we can be together.’ ‘I have enough money for both of us, you don’t have to work.’ She didn’t like his job as a teacher. When he started his education, she had agreed to it, seemingly supportive of his future career. She was still supportive to his face, but he could tell she was ashamed of his job whenever they socialized with her friends. She would rather have him home all day, than letting rich friends know that her husband had a low-paying job as a teacher.

“Tempting,” he replied. “Maybe you can use some of your lunch and see the doctor for your cough?”

“I’d rather just work or ask Yanyan to have lunch with me.” She waved off his concern. “It’s nothing, it will clear itself up soon.”

He frowned. She had said the same thing for a month now. Her coughing would sometimes wake him up at night, loud enough to be heard through the walls.

“I know, but I’m worried about you,” he said.

She sighed. “It’s nothing.”

His lips twitched in displeasure he couldn’t hide. “Still, I would feel much be-,“

She coughed again. This time her whole body shook, and he instinctively reached out for her. He offered her a tissue, and she took it, covering her mouth. She coughed until her face turned red, and he held her through it.

He was about to argue that they needed to see the doctor, when the coughing subsided. She removed the tissue, and his eyes were immediately drawn to it. He felt his blood freeze when he saw it was covered in blood.

“I think you’re right,” she said weakly.

His hands shook as he reached for his phone, his heart racing as he dialed the doctor’s number. She would be alright; she had to be.

::

The doctor was an old family friend and had been the Qiu family’s doctor for decades, he had even been there when Haitang was born. He had kept quiet whenever Qiu Jianlou had called him to the family home and had treated Shen Qingqiu’s injuries with a calm and caring hand. To Shen Qingqiu, the most important part was that he had not once slipped up. He had never mentioned Qiu Jianlou’s treatment of him to Qiu Haitang.

Shen Qingqiu knew the doctor could be trusted, which was why his whole world shattered at his words.

“Mrs. Qiu,” the doctor said, his weathered face folded in sympathy. “The tests we ran came back, and unfortunately it’s bad news.” He paused, and Qiu Haitang reached for Shen Qingqiu’s hand. He held her tightly with both hands.

“It’s cancer,” Doctor Chen said. “From the tests and the images we took, it’s clear that it’s lung cancer which has spread throughout your body.”

Shen Qingqiu heard the words as if through a fog. “What’s the treatment?”

Qiu Haitang spoke over him. “What’s the prognosis?”

Doctor Chen’s face fell further. “Unfortunately, since it’s metastatic lung cancer, as it’s spread, it has reached stage four. It’s spread throughout your body, from the lungs to the lymph nodes and to your brain.”

The doctor gestured outwards with his hands, a helpless gesture. “At this point, there is no known cure. We will be talking about how to improve your life quality and relieve any symptoms, but there’s no curing this.”

Shen Qingqiu swallowed, his mouth dry. “There has to be something? Chemotherapy? Radiation? Surgery?” His voice shook, the words stumbling out of his mouth.

Doctor Chen hesitated, his eyes falling on a picture on his desk. He stared at the picture of him with his smiling granddaughter. “There is.. something,” he said.

Desperate hope bloomed in Shen Qingqiu’s chest “What is it?”

“There’s a medical lab doing cancer treatment trials. They’ve been asking for referrals for a while. However, I don’t know if they still accept new patients.”

“Trials? Like, experiments?” Qiu Haitang said.

“Yes,” the doctor answered.

“I don’t want to be a guinea pig!” she protested. “Spending my last moments poked and prodded and glared at? No thank you.”

Shen Qingqiu pleaded with her. “Please, for me. Let’s just contact them and see. We can hear what the trial is about and then decide. Please.”

She stared at him for a moment, gazing at him. “Alright. For you,” she said.

The doctor nodded and found a business card from his drawer. “Any potential patients for the trial can call this number directly,” he explained as he handed the card over to Shen Qingqiu.

He took the card carefully, holding it like a holy treasure. Luo Pharmaceuticals Co., Ltd.

Luo. Shen Qingqiu blinked as he stared at the name. It couldn’t be Luo Binghe, his former student. There were thousands with the name Luo just in this region. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread.

::

The offices of Luo Pharmaceuticals were in a new and modern building. Both the outside and the inside was state of the art, every surface shiny to the point of almost glistening. Shen Qingqiu felt overwhelmed the moment they walked through the revolving doors. He steeled himself, keeping his posture straight and tall for Qiu Haitang.

The waiting room outside the director’s office even had a small fountain, with water cascading down white slippery walls. Shen Qingqiu tugged on the cuff of his black suit, Qiu Haitan’s favorite.

She wore a black Dior suit, the one she had once jokingly dubbed as her battle armor. She fidgeted with the strap on her Hermès bag, a nervous gesture she only allowed herself to display in his presence.

He reached out and held her other hand, and she gave him a grateful smile.

“Director Luo will see you now,” the secretary said.

They walked hand in hand through a set of intimidating, her grip on him tightening as they entered the office.

Shen Qingqiu almost faltered at the sight of the man behind the desk. It was none other than Luo Binghe. A sense of dread filled him. Had his past ruined Qiu Haitang’s chance of a future?

“Mr. Shen, Mrs. Haitang, please have a seat,” Luo Binghe said and gestured to the two leather chairs in front of his desk.

They sat down, still holding each other’s hands. Luo Binghe’s eyes lingered on their connection.

“I’m Luo Binghe, the director of the company,” he said.

To him, Luo Binghe needed no introduction. He had been his teacher once, fresh out of school himself, still under Qiu Jianlou’s thumb. He had been as cruel to Luo Binghe as he could get away with, needling the young boy and in the end getting him expelled. He swallowed, bile threatening to rise up his throat and spill all over the white marble floors.

Luo Binghe looked at his tablet, frowning. “It seems you’ve come all this way for nothing.” He looked at Shen Qingqiu, his face blank. “The trial has just started and there’s no more room for another patient.”

“You called us here for nothing?” Qiu Haitang’s voice was incredulous.

Luo Binghe shrugged carelessly. “I’m afraid so,” he replied.

“Luo Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu said. “Please.”

Luo Binghe stared at him. His face was still blank, but there was a spark of something indescribable in his eyes.

“If you called us here, there must be a chance. Some way for Haitang to enter the trial,” he said, losing his grip on her to reach out to Luo Binghe.

Luo Binghe said nothing.

“Are you punishing me?” Shen Qingqiu said.

Qiu Haitang looked at him, a question on her lips.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, or implying,” Luo Binghe said. The way he spoke made it clear to Shen Qingqiu that Luo Binghe knew what he was referring to.

“Haitang, go wait outside,” Shen Qingqiu said, and thankfully she left without another word.

“I don’t know how that will help,” Luo Binghe said.

Shen Qingqiu got up, his body shaking but he tried his best to hide it. Desperation and a faint hope fueled his movements.

“Luo Binghe,” he said. “Back then I was a terrible teacher. I took my misery out on you, when you didn’t deserve it.”

He walked over to Luo Binghe and got down on his knees. He pressed his forehead against the floor right in front of Luo Binghe’s black leather shoes.

“Please, Luo Binghe,” he said. “Please don’t take my cruelty out on Qiu Haitang, she doesn’t deserve it.”

He was met with silence. He knelt for what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes. When he raised his head to get a glimpse of Luo Binghe, Luo Binghe lifted a foot and placed it on his head, pushing him down again.

“If it’s that important to you, then you can beg better,” Luo Binghe said.

Shen Qingqiu’s heart pounded in his chest, tears forming in his eyes. He couldn’t let Qiu Haitang down! The pressure on his head increased.

“I beg you, Luo Binghe! I beg for your forgiveness. I was scum, worse than scum. I did you wrong, and I’m sorry! I apologize for how I treated you!”

There was a moment of silence where the pressure on increased, then the foot on his head disappeared. “Sit up,” Luo Binghe said.

He slowly sat back up, staring at Luo Binghe. His face continued to be devoid of any emotion, but his eyes were full of malice.

“Do you really care for her?” Luo Binghe asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Then slap yourself,” Luo Binghe said.

He struck without hesitation, both his face and his palm stinging at the impact.

Luo Binghe leaned forward, lips slightly parted. “Again.”

He hit himself again, feeling his face heat up at the strike. The tears welling up in his eyes made everything blurry, but he could see a hint of a smile on Luo Binghe’s lips.

Luo Binghe gripped his chin, tilting his head back and forth.

“Again, this time on the left,” he said without letting go.

Shen Qingqiu slapped himself and accidentally also Luo Binghe, the sound ringing in his ears.

Luo Binghe tilted his face to the side to examine it, then finally let go. He rubbed his struck fingers together. “At least you didn’t hold back.”

He leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes staring at Shen Qingqiu like he was an unidentified insect. He had shifted in his seat while Shen Qingqiu had been facing the floor, his legs now walling him in.

“I have an offer,” Luo Binghe said.

Shen Qingqiu blinked, relief and dread mixing in his stomach. “What is it?”

Luo Binghe’s answering smile was sharp. “We’ll let Mrs. Qiu decide. Now, get up.” He leaned over to his phone and called his secretary. “Please let Mrs. Qiu back in.”

Shen Qingqiu sat back down, drying his eyes with his sleeve and trying to compose himself before he saw Qiu Haitang again. She sat down next to him, her eyes full of unanswered questions he knew he would have to face later.

“As I said, the trial has closed the applications.” Luo Binghe got up and walked around his desk, leaning back against it casually. “However, I could open it again. I would have to enter another patient too, so the numbers will still be correct.”

Shen Qingqiu was almost afraid to speak. “And in return?”

The smile on Luo Binghe’s face turned sharper, his eyes focusing on Qiu Haitang. “I get to sleep with Mrs. Qiu whenever I want.”

“What?” they said in unison.

Shen Qingqiu felt numb, and Qiu Haitang stared at Luo Binghe with an open mouth.

“Why?” Shen Qingqiu asked.

“I read the medical files. Mrs. Qiu is as good as dead, especially without this trial.” Luo Binghe’s smile turned coy, like he was about to tell a joke. “I’ve always been fascinated with death.”

“This is ridiculous,” Qiu Haitang said, but Shen Qingqiu noticed she didn’t move from her seat.

“I’ve done it all,” Luo Binghe said. “I’ve slept with women younger than me and older than me. Foreign, domestic, pregnant, new moms. Anything with a pulse, really.” He looked at Qiu Haitang. “But I’ve never slept with someone so close to death. And even if the trial is successful, you’ll get a lot worse before you’re better.”

“You’re disgusting,” Qiu Haitang said, her nose wrinkling.

“And you’re beautiful,” Luo Binghe said. “Even deathly ill, you’re still as radiant as the sun.”

Shen Qingqiu watched with disbelief as the compliment landed as intended, a blush blooming on her face. He wanted to protest, to grab her arm and storm out of there. But who was he to deny her the chance to live?

“Any time I want,” Luo Binghe repeated.

Qiu Haitang swallowed and hesitated, her eyes drifting to Shen Qingqiu. He wanted to scream, to take a swing at Luo Binghe, to call the police or anyone who would listen. All he could do was nod.

“I don’t like it,” he said, “but if you say yes, I’ll find a way to be okay with it.”

Qiu Haitang nodded and got up, reaching her hand over to Luo Binghe, who kissed it. “We have a deal,” she said, and Shen Qingqiu could do nothing but watch as they stared into each other’s eyes.

Chapter Text

The ride home had been silent. Qiu Haitang had spent it looking out the window, and he had spent it surreptitiously staring at her, hoping she would turn her head, hoping, selfishly she would tell him she wouldn’t go through with it. She never did.

After completing his work he ventured into the living area and sat on the couch, nursing a glass of white wine and his wounded pride. He shifted, tugging another pillow behind him in support. Qiu Haitang had chosen the couch by herself, enamored as she was with the crisp white lines. She hadn’t consulted him before buying it, so she didn’t know he hated it or that he found it far too modern and uncomfortable. He loved being comfortable, all the furniture in his bedroom and his study were bought with comfort in mind. She didn’t know what he preferred, which left him scrambling for decent lumbar support using every available pillow within arm’s reach.

“Do you want some?” she asked as she came into view, dangling a bottle of red wine in front of him.

“No, thank you,” he said, fighting the urge to wrinkle his nose. He didn’t like red wine. He found it too bitter, too strong. She in turn hated the sweet dessert wines he favored the rare times he drank.

She sat down next to him; her battle armor exchanged for a pair of black trousers and a white blouse. She reached out and entwined her fingers with his, sitting with him in silence until her glass was nearly empty.

“You know him,” she said. A statement, not a question.

“Yes,” he said, wondering how he could explain his treatment of Luo Binghe without mentioning her brother. He wondered briefly when Qiu Jialou had started being the excuse for his behavior, instead of the reason. If only he had seen it sooner, they might not be in this position.

“So? Tell me,” she said, catching him in the laser focus that had made her such a successful business leader.

“You know how I had issues when first starting out as a teacher?” he said.

She nodded, familiar with what he was saying. She had used the Qiu family influence more than once when parents and students had complained about his strict teaching style. She helped him sweep it under the rug, familiar with her brother’s strict form of leadership. She had seen nothing wrong with Shen Qingqiu’s way of teaching, and that had made it harder for him to come to terms with something being wrong. It had taken him too long to realize his strictness came from anger, and that his anger was unhealthy.

“Out of all of them, I treated him the worst. In the end I had him expelled.” He swirled the wine around in the glass, bringing it as close to the edge as he could. If he didn’t stop, sooner or later it would spill.

Luo Binghe had been unfortunate. He had done nothing wrong, except enter the school when Shen Qingqiu’s life was at a low point. Qiu Jialou was overstepping boundaries Shen Qingqiu never thought he would cross, threatening the wellbeing of Qiu Haitang. Shen Qingqiu had seen an easy target, a young man without power or knowledge to fight back against his unfair treatment.

The fingers in his grip squeezed him tightly. “I see,” Qiu Haitang said. She didn’t see, not all of it. She knew he was affected by his past, and he was, but not the past she thought. She believed he was damaged, broken by the life he had before he met her. Little did she know, he only started breaking after being brought into the Qiu household.

She leaned closer, resting her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head, and she pushed him until they were lying down together. She took their wineglasses and put them on the table, a glass construct Shen Qingqiu abhorred. Another buy she hadn’t consulted him about. She placed her head on his chest, and he carefully wrapped his arms around her middle, holding her close. They stayed that way for a while, embracing in silence.

“It feels like betrayal,” she eventually murmured.

“It’s not”, he reassured her. “It’s survival.”

She said nothing, but a tension he hadn’t noticed in her disappeared.

He hesitated before speaking. “I would even say it’s a crime. He’s blackmailing you.”

She hummed. “I know, Qingqiu.”

She looked up at him, waiting to speak until he craned his neck and looked at her. “It still feels wrong. We’re each other’s first and only.”

He gave her a soft smile. “We’ll still be each other’s first,” he lied. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “And we’ll be each other’s last. That’s all that matters.”

“Mhm. Thank you, Qingqiu,” she said and rested her head on his chest again.

He felt disappointed and knew he was being unfair. Had it been him, dying and willing to fight for his life, he would have done the same. It was her life, and he wanted her to live. Maybe he just wanted her to resist a little more, to refuse before accepting the deal.

She shifted her body against him. “When do you think he’ll contact us?”

He looked at her, noticing the darkening of her eyes, the deepening of color on her face, and felt betrayal stab him again. She had only just met Luo Binghe, and already she had been enticed by him.

He had seen it numerous times in school. Luo Binghe would change girlfriends almost every week, each time leaving his previous lover clinging to him in tears. No matter what he did, no matter how crushed his exes were after he left them, there was always a line of young women waiting to be his next girlfriend. Even his wife wasn’t immune to Luo Binghe’s charms.

He frowned. “He seemed interested in being with someone ill. I’m guessing he’ll call on you when the treatment has started and you’re affected by it.”

Qiu Haitang pushed herself up and leaned in, kissing him softly. “Then let’s make the most of our time,” she whispered, kissing him again.

He let her pull him in, closing his eyes and kissing her back. He knew what to do, where to touch and how to touch to give her what she wanted. He knew what to do and what to think behind closed eyes to be able to give her what she wanted. He always played his part perfectly. The doting husband, the devoted lover, the obedient spouse. He gave her everything she wanted, and only sometimes toed the line to her displeasure.

Every touch, every sound, he had memorized it all. From the moment they met as teenagers he learned what she liked, what she preferred, and what she disliked, not because he fell in love with her, but because in her he saw a future. As a teenager he saw a future where he might not be who or what he wanted to be, but at least he would be safe, and he would have a sort of freedom his younger self could only dream of.

Qiu Haitang was his friend first and his wife second. He did everything to keep her happy, and in return she unwittingly saved him from a fate worse than death, and for that he would always be grateful.

“I love you,” he said between kisses, pulling off her blouse.

“I love you too,” she said as she unbuttoned his pants.

Her hands were greedy, and her touch was eager. He knew what she was looking for and flipped her over underneath him. He soon had her moaning with pleasure and shaking as she reached her climax. He came right after her, not wanting to keep it going once she had been satisfied.

He was quick to pull a blanket underneath her, knowing she would scold him for staining the couch again if he didn’t. He kissed her once before getting her a washcloth. She liked him coming in her but hated the mess it left. When they were younger he had offered to always wear a condom, especially since she didn’t want to get pregnant and she didn’t want to be on birth control. She didn’t want children, and though he did, he hadn’t protested when she made him an appointment for a vasectomy. He grinned and bore it. She got what she wanted, and he was still safe.

Padding over to the kitchen, he ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. It was getting long, and he would have to get it cut. She hated it long.

When he heard the door to her bedroom open, he opened the fridge and took out her grapefruit and lemon juice. She loved having a glass both in the morning and in the evening, and he knew she preferred it as cold as possible.

He poured her a glass and handed it over as she walked over to him.

“Thank you, darling,” she said, smiling up at him with that relaxed grin she always had after they had sex.

In her bathrobe and with her hair in a towel she looked as soft and uncomplicated as when they had first met. Little had he known she would become the biggest complication in his life. Without her he would have run from the Qiu family the first chance he got. Unfortunately for him, her brother knew what to say about her to keep him in line and to keep him close.

She looked up at him and tutted. “Your hair is getting long. I’ll set up an appointment for you,” she said as she pulled on his hair.

He smiled at her and pulled her close. “Yes, do that for me. Now, I’m off to sleep. Good night, darling,” he said, kissing her before heading to his bedroom.

He looked at himself in the bedroom mirror, tugging on his hair. A frown marred his face. He really did prefer it longer.