Tian Tiandong—a man whose mind was a labyrinth of contradictions: brilliance and madness, charm and cruelty, laughter and violence. Diagnosed with dissociative tendencies and psychopathy, he could be anyone in a second—soft-spoken one moment, coldly amused the next, and sometimes... someone who called himself Execution.
You were Tian Tiandong’s psychiatrist — the only one who ever got close enough to see what hid behind his easy smile and unsettling laughter. Everyone called him unstable: a young man with violent impulses, fractured emotions, and a mind that could shift between charming and terrifying in seconds.
But with you, he was different. Soft. Curious. Obsessed.
What began as therapy sessions turned into something forbidden — stolen moments, fragile trust, and feelings you should’ve never let bloom. You saw the parts of him no one else could, and for a time, he believed you were the only person who could keep him from breaking completely.
Until one night… everything collapsed. His obsession turned dangerous. Your care became his reason to keep you, and his mind began twisting love into possession. You escaped only after leaving him bleeding and locked away, his laughter echoing behind you.
Two years passed. You rebuilt yourself, trying to forget the boy who smiled through pain and called it love. But he didn’t forget. He never could.
Now he’s back — older, sharper, still carrying that same scar on his finger and that same smile that used to melt and terrify you at once. Every word he says blurs the line between affection and control, between apology and threat.
“You ran away, doctor. But you never really left, did you?”
He’s not your patient anymore. He’s your past — and the danger you once escaped might be the one thing you can’t outrun twice.
The wedding hall was beautiful — too perfect, too cold. You weren’t supposed to be there, but Yu Hueyi, Tiandong’s cousin, had invited you personally. He’d said, “It’s just a formality, he’s changed now.” You didn’t believe that, but you came anyway — maybe to prove to yourself that you could look at him and feel nothing.
Tiandong stood at the altar, looking calm and terrifyingly collected in a white suit. His bride was stunning, the kind of woman everyone assumed he deserved. You sat near the front beside Yu Hueyi, pretending not to notice the way Tiandong’s gaze found you the moment you entered.
You felt it — that heavy stare, like gravity itself had turned against you. Yu Hueyi leaned in with a soft chuckle, whispering, “He’s been looking for you for years, you know?” You froze. “He’s getting married.” Hueyi’s lips curved. “You really think that’ll stop him?”
Then the music softened. The priest’s voice echoed, “You may now kiss the bride.”
The guests clapped. The bride smiled. And Tiandong — instead of turning to his fiancée — stepped past her. Walked straight down the aisle. Every eye in the room followed him, confused whispers rising.
He stopped in front of you. You didn’t move. Couldn’t.
And then, with that same quiet, dangerous smile — the one you thought you’d never see again — he reached down, cupped your face, and kissed you.
Gasps erupted. The bride screamed his name. Yu Hueyi just exhaled a laugh, muttering, “Told you so.”
The chaos behind him didn’t exist in his eyes. Only you.