Gold Cage - Chapter 23

As he entered adolescence, Mu Yu grew even more slender and beautiful, his features blending the classical softness of Eastern aesthetics with the mysterious, lively charm inherited from his mother's side. Though his personality was haughty, he still had no shortage of admirers. Yet Mu Yu disliked the dull-witted boys at school and had even less interest in girls.

His eyes held only one person.

Mu Hanxiao had arranged everything for him. Since entering school, Mu Yu had consistently excelled academically, and the childhood ailments that had plagued him gradually improved over the years with careful nurturing. Mu Hanxiao had no intention of letting him go far away, even though their mother had hinted that once Mu Yu came of age, he could very well establish his own household elsewhere.

Their mother wanted Mu Yu to leave and never appear before them again. But Mu Hanxiao did not follow her wishes. The opposing choices they made regarding Mu Yu carried a subtle tension.

None of it seemed to concern Mu Yu. He didn't even visit the Mu family during the Lunar New Year—he didn't want to, and Mu Hanxiao indulged him. Compared to the traditional Chinese New Year, Mu Yu still instinctively paid more attention to Christmas. Every year, he enthusiastically decorated the house with festive cheer, and the chef would prepare a lavish dinner according to his tastes. Mu Yu would then wait at home for Mu Hanxiao to return.

Every Christmas, he had only Mu Hanxiao. He didn't need anyone else, nor did he like anyone else.

But Mu Hanxiao was different—Mu Hanxiao didn't have only him.

On his seventeenth Christmas, Mu Yu sat on the living room sofa, hugging a blanket, staring absentmindedly at the snow falling outside. The dinner on the table grew cold, was reheated, then cold again. A servant quietly approached Mu Yu and told him that Mr. Mu wouldn't be coming home tonight.

Mu Yu said, "It's fine. I'll just watch the snow."

That night, Mu Hanxiao didn't return to Yunhai. In previous years, he had always spent Christmas with Mu Yu, but this year was different. Mu Yu wasn't foolish—he cared so deeply about Mu Hanxiao that he could sense the growing distance between them, no longer as close as before.

Even though Mu Hanxiao was still the brother who held him tightly in the palm of his hand.

But Mu Yu didn't want to be cradled in his palm.

He wanted Mu Hanxiao to look at him.

Neither of them could have predicted whether, had that night not happened, Mu Yu wouldn't have left for six years, or if they wouldn't have fought so bitterly that they nearly severed ties. But there were no what-ifs. That night, Mu Hanxiao returned to Yunhai to find the house enveloped in silence. The living room carpet had always been strewn with Mu Yu's snacks, but they had long since disappeared.

As the weather warmed, the nights in Yunhai filled with the chirping of insects, and occasionally, fireflies could be seen. Mu Hanxiao came home to take an overseas work call. Instead of going upstairs, he sat in the living room, casually lighting a cigarette as he discussed business with the person on the other end.

He kept his voice low, but when he heard footsteps, he looked up to see Mu Yu standing on the stairs in his pajamas, watching him.

They locked eyes for a moment before Mu Yu descended. Mu Hanxiao stubbed out his cigarette, quickly wrapping up the conversation. By the time he hung up, Mu Yu was already standing before him.

"Why aren't you asleep?" Mu Hanxiao asked.

Mu Yu carried the faint scent of soap from his bath. He was fastidious—his pale hands hung at his sides, fingers delicate. Mu Hanxiao noticed he had grown just a little taller.

"Brother, I feel awful," Mu Yu said softly.

"Are you unwell?"

"In my heart."

Mu Hanxiao fell silent. Mu Yu stood before him, eyes brimming with grievance. "You haven't paid me any attention in so long."

"I just haven't replied to your messages promptly."

"Do you not want me anymore?"

Mu Hanxiao adjusted his posture, interlacing his fingers briefly before letting go. He was often subjected to Mu Yu's bewildering attacks— his younger brother's thoughts leaped unpredictably, leaving even him caught off guard at times.

"Don't ask such strange questions," he warned Mu Yu.

"You avoid me because you don't want to see me. I haven't done anything wrong, so why don't you want to see me?" Mu Yu pressed stubbornly. "Is it because I'm always clinging to you? Because I care too much, because I can't let you go—and now you're finally sick of it?"

"You're overthinking things."

"You care about me too! Why do you keep dodging my feelings? Do you even care if I'm hurt by this? Or do you care, but you're pretending not to know?"

Mu Hanxiao frowned, about to speak, but Mu Yu suddenly grabbed his shoulders and straddled his lap. The words died in his throat as a faint, fresh fragrance enveloped him like mist. In the dim living room, Mu Yu cupped Mu Hanxiao's face, his star-speckled green eyes like an intoxicating forest, brimming with raw sorrow and love.

"Brother, you know I love you, don't you?"

Mu Yu leaned down and kissed him. His audacity was staggering—he crossed that forbidden line with terrifying ease. The kiss was inexperienced yet feverish, igniting the frigid night into scalding heat in an instant. Mu Hanxiao's hand clamped around Mu Yu's thigh, veins nearly bulging from the strain. Their lips melded in a desperate tangle, the slick sounds of their mouths mingling with ragged breaths. Mu Hanxiao's breathing turned rough, and Mu Yu drank from him as if parched, his warm hands slipping beneath the man's undone shirt, tracing the hard planes of his body—muscle and heat shifting under his touch, a hidden strength simmering beneath.

The next moment, Mu Yu was flung onto the couch. Mu Hanxiao stood, panting heavily, his clothes disheveled, his flushed neck visible through the open collar. Mu Yu gasped for air too, his voice rising in frustration. "Mu Hanxiao! You love me too—how long are you going to keep pretending?"

Mu Hanxiao nearly growled, "Have you lost your mind?"

His voice was hoarse. Mu Yu's eyes reddened. "You just don't have the guts to admit it. You're a coward!"

"Have you forgotten even your own family name?!"

"So what? All I know is I love you. I don't want you to hurt me. I don't want you to leave me!"

Mu Hanxiao inhaled deeply, his gaze icy as it bore into Mu Yu on the couch. This was his blood-related younger brother—still perched high in his ivory tower, gazing dreamily at distant mountains and skies. At some point, Mu Hanxiao had stopped wanting him to ever descend from that tower into the chaos below.

He had never once felt this way about any of his other brothers. But Mu Yu was still a boy, and yet this madness had already taken root in his mind, spreading like a tumor through his nerves and bones, shaking the steel tracks of his resolve until the earth beneath cracked with its reverberations.

"Don't ever let me hear such nonsense again," Mu Hanxiao bit out, each word deliberate. "Go upstairs to your room. Now."

Mu Yu glared at him. In the end, his pride forced him to straighten and leave without another word. He climbed the stairs, pausing at the landing to turn and look down at Mu Hanxiao from above.

His voice carried a barely restrained sob, laced with unspeakable, heart-wrenching hatred: "Mu Hanxiao, you'll regret this!"

His eyes conveyed what words couldn't—that Mu Hanxiao would regret his hesitation, his refusal to face reality, his confinement within worldly trivialities, becoming just another pitiable soul yearning for unattainable love. The world might see him as untouchable nobility, but only he knew the truth: Mu Hanxiao was nothing but a coward riding on borrowed prestige.

***

Mu Yu finally awoke.

He felt as though he'd been sleeping in an endless ocean, the bed nearly swallowing him whole. The alcohol had granted him temporary respite but left his stomach unsettled. After last night's reckless indulgence, he barely knew what day it was. Stretching lazily, he pushed his limp body upright.

"Did you have fun?"

Mu Yu froze, turning toward the doorway. There sat Mu Hanxiao on the sofa, impeccably dressed, having waited who knew how long.

The half-drawn curtains let in muted daylight, leaving the room dim and silent. Mu Yu studied Mu Hanxiao for a long moment before glancing at the empty space beside his pillow, then scanning the room.

"Xia Ge?" he called out tentatively. No answer. He searched for his phone, patting the sheets fruitlessly before throwing off the covers. Bare-legged, he padded across the carpet, rummaging through the room while wearing nothing but a shirt.

Mu Hanxiao watched, ignored, as Mu Yu tore the place apart. He said nothing, his breathing lost in the shadows. This wasn't the precursor to rage—more like the smoldering aftermath of volcanic fury, darkness blotting out everything.

Finally giving up, Mu Yu turned to Mu Hanxiao.

"Where's my phone?" he demanded.

"Who did you want to call?" Mu Hanxiao replied tonelessly.

Mu Yu grinned. "Just checking the time."

"Two-thirty in the afternoon."

That long? Mu Yu eyed Mu Hanxiao, wondering where he'd come from and when. At this point, he couldn't be bothered asking how Mu Hanxiao had found him. The man was sick—he knew that better than anyone.

"Big Brother came to the party too?" Mu Yu said. "Should've told me. I'd have said hello."

Mu Hanxiao stood. Mu Yu's phone was in his hand. With a casual flick, he sent it arcing into the water feature by the window. The SIM card snapped in half, landing on the carpet.

Mu Yu watched his phone sink, then turned back. "Having an episode, are we, Mu Hanxiao?"

Face cold, he turned to dress and slip on his shoes, heading for the door. Mu Hanxiao blocked his path, one hand clamping onto his arm like a vise.

The man's aura was glacial, barely containing volatile violence. Looking down at Mu Yu, his grip painful enough to bruise bone, Mu Hanxiao said, "That brat's still alive. But you'll never see him again."

Mu Yu looked as if he'd heard the most ridiculous joke: "What?"

Mu Hanxiao tried to lead him out of the room, but Mu Yu suddenly summoned unexpected strength and violently shook off the man's grip. Mu Hanxiao paused, his gaze turning dangerous when it landed on Mu Yu again—even revealing rare traces of fury.

"Stop bothering me," Mu Yu said wearily. He slumped onto the edge of the bed and continued, "I'm not even seeking you out anymore, so why do you keep coming after me? Focus on your married life and stop meddling in who I date. Let's just leave each other alone, okay? No more interfering in each other's private lives."

Mu Hanxiao's voice was icy: "Who do you want to date?"

"Anyone pleasant, considerate—someone I like," Mu Yu replied indifferently. "Anyone will do."

Mu Hanxiao stood before him. Mu Yu lifted his gaze and suddenly smiled softly.

"Don't worry, brother. I don't love you anymore. From now on, I won't cling to you or make a scene. If you want your ideal life, if you want a perfect family, I sincerely hope you get everything you desire." Mu Yu's voice was gentle, almost tender. "I'll never love a man who's changed his heart. Not in this lifetime."

The sharp crack of Mu Hanxiao's knuckles sounded like a prelude to violence. He nearly laughed coldly: "Changed my heart'?"

"Is that term wrong?" Mu Yu sneered. "Mu Hanxiao, I've known for a long time that you wanted me. Did you think I couldn't read your eyes? You've wanted me since I was seventeen—craved me—but you never dared say it, never dared admit it. You just hid inside your shell as the eldest brother, doing all those so-called 'right things'!"

His eyes burned with hatred: "Let's just say I was young and stupid, wasting my time on a coward like you. Looking back now, the only reason I ever liked you was because I was pitiful back then—anyone who showed me kindness would've won my affection. Did you really think you were special? You just happened to be in that position. Anyone else would've done. But you were right about one thing I never should've been sent to Yunhai. I'd rather have died at the bottom of Lake Baihaer at ten than have the misfortune of meeting a bastard like you!"

Mu Hanxiao abruptly seized Mu Yu by the throat, forcing his head back. The delicate structure of his windpipe couldn't withstand the brute force; struggling was futile, and soon tears welled in his eyes from suffocation. Mu Hanxiao had never been this enraged—not even six years ago when Mu Yu had stubbornly left. His expression was murderous, as if he wanted to kill Mu Yu and then burn this pristine crystal palace to ashes.

"You're right."

The man's breathing was ragged, scorching hot, as if a monstrous beast had torn free from Mu Hanxiao's body—shedding skin, shattering bones, drenching itself in blood just to pin Mu Yu beneath its claws and devour him. Mu Hanxiao stared into Mu Yu's eyes, his nerves pounding violently against his temples like a hormonal alarm at its peak. He inhaled Mu Yu's familiar, sweet fragrance, felt the soft warmth of his skin trembling faintly under his palm—like prey long stalked in darkness, every inch of its body memorized. Every movement, every glance, every strand of hair, finger, eyelash, the slightest flicker of emotion—all carved into his bones, etched into his brain, becoming instinct.

"You're absolutely right." Mu Hanxiao gripped the barely conscious Mu Yu, whose breath was faint as if about to pass out. Bloodshot veins crept into his eyes, and a twisted crack seemed to split his sculpted face.

"I am indeed a scumbag."

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