Love has no face.

Part 1.

Wangji a beautiful trans young man living his life peacefully with his family, spending his time in cultivating and never been interested in any male or female.

His life changed drastically after a sect leader Wen's son caught his eyes on him, he tried to pursue Wangji with different presents and promises but, Wangji always ignores him, not interested to be in any kinda relationship for now.

Once Wen Chao was daring enough to try pursuing Wangji in clan meeting, where Wangji politely declined his proposal telling him he's not ready for any relationship but that hurts the ego of Wen clan leader's son, resulting he can't, take the insult, he decided to take the revenge for the same.

Planned kidnapping of second Jade of Gusu...

This is a rewritten version of the fiction.

...

Wangji opened his eyes, the world coming into focus in shades of muted grey and subdued colors. It was neither too bright nor too dark, but the dimness did little to ease the anxiety curling in his stomach. *What is this place?* he wondered, blinking rapidly, struggling to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings. The rough texture of the cold floor pressed against his back sent a shiver down his spine, and as he attempted to get up, a wave of panic flooded through him.

His body was pinned down, held fast by numerous hands-rough, clammy grips squeezing tightly around his arms and legs. *Horror courses through me like ice,* he thought, the realization hitting him hard. He thrashed against the binds, every frantic movement only eliciting stronger grips, as though the shadows that lurked were determined to keep him under their control. *I can't let them keep me like this,* he thought, his heart pounding against his chest, each beat echoing in his ears.

Then a sudden stiffness seized him, freezing him in place as a hand, steady and unmistakably firm, moved to his face, fingers gripping his jaw in a tight, punishing hold. Wangji winced, pain blooming where the fingers dug into his skin, forcing him to look up. *No...* The familiar figure emerged from the gloom, his features sharpened by the low light: Wen Chao, the very face he had come to dread.

Wen Chao's eyes glinted mischievously, holding a dark delight in the power he wielded over Wangji. *This is it. I have to stay calm,* Wangji thought, trying to quell the rising panic that clawed at his throat. The air in the room felt heavy, thick with despair and the stagnant scent of sweat and fear that filled his lungs. He couldn't let them see his fear, couldn't show any sign of weakness-*but how do I fight back when I can't even move?*

"You bitch! I asked you politely, but you still dare to decline my proposal. You insulted me, the great Wen Chao! Now I will teach you a good lesson for this!" His voice dripped with malice, each syllable laced with a dagger-sharp edge that cut through the already tense air.

Wangji felt dread coil in his stomach as Wen Chao's fingers dug into his cheeks with a brutal intensity, leaving imprints that would likely blossom into bruises. *This is madness,* he thought, desperation bubbling up within him as sharp nails clawed at his delicate skin, drawing thin rivulets of crimson. Pain shot through him, but even more than the physical agony, it was the sheer violation of dignity that clawed at his spirit.

He thrashed against his captors, trying to break free, every instinct screaming at him to escape. *I can't let him do this!* But as he struggled, the hands holding him tightened like iron shackles, their grip unyielding and suffocating. Hot anger mixed with the swirling dread, causing his heart to race violently in his chest.

Just as he thought he might manage to push them away, a sudden, sharp pain blossomed across his cheek-a punch that landed with a sickening thud. The world jolted around him, stars exploding behind his eyes, blurring his vision. *How can they be so cruel?* The thought sliced through the haze of pain, a fluid mixture of rage and helplessness flooding his mind. *I can't give in... I won't break.*

The sting of humiliation mixed with the physical pain, and for a fleeting moment, he felt the weight of despair attempting to crush him. *This isn't over. I will find a way to fight back,* he resolutely reminded himself as he gritted his teeth against the pain. Every bone in his body screamed for him to submit, but a flicker of defiance ignited within him. *I will not let Wen Chao have the satisfaction of seeing me yield.*

Those hands crawled over his body like insects, invading his personal space, making him feel nauseous. Every touch sent a wave of revulsion spiraling through him, and he fought the overwhelming urge to retch, the taste of bile rising in his throat. *This is wrong; this is unacceptable!* The sheer disgust gnawed at his insides, as if those hands were not just holding him down, but also tearing at the very fabric of his soul. Each unwanted caress seemed to dig deeper, leaving him feeling hollow, like a shell stripped of its essence.

He wanted to push them away, wanted to push out every disgusting thing that was filling him up, suffocating him from the inside. His tongue felt heavy, desperate to scream, yet no sound would escape his lips-the silence caught in his throat like a trapped animal. Tears streamed down his cheeks, blurring his vision, distorting the world around him into smudged shadows and indistinct shapes. *They have taken my voice...* he thought helplessly, each tear a silent testament to his pain.

His head spun, disorientation crashing over him in waves. *Focus,* he thought, but it was a losing battle. The throbbing in his ears intensified, a relentless pounding that echoed the rapid rhythm of his heart. He felt as though the walls were closing in, pressing down on him with a weight he couldn't bear. He struggled to fill his lungs with air, but it was as if the very atmosphere had been sucked away, each breath an exhausting endeavor. Those hands tightened their grip, as insidious as the darkness closing in around him.

*I can't breathe...* Each gasp became a frantic plea for salvation, but only despair teetered on the precipice of his awareness. Tears fell unbidden, a silent cascade as they dripped onto the cold floor, beyond his control. Guilt mingled with the horror of his situation, a breeding ground for shame that he couldn't shake off.

Slowly, the edges of his vision began to fade, details dissolving into a murky abyss until everything around him blurred into an indistinct dark. *Is this the end?* he wondered as unconsciousness beckoned, sweet and merciful. But even as the darkness engulfed him, a flicker of defiance remained-a soft, stubborn whisper in the back of his mind that vowed, *I will resist. I will not be forgotten.*

Another figure loomed over him, an embodiment of malice and rage, gripping him like a lifeline in his sea of despair. With a swift motion, the figure pushed their palm harshly against his neck, choking him, cutting off the air that he so desperately needed. Panic surged within him, the world around him twisting into a kaleidoscope of torment as he fought against the crushing grip. *I can't breathe... I can't-* His thoughts spiraled, growing frantic, each desperate gasp echoing like a death knell in the suffocating atmosphere.

With a sudden, brutal force, his head was slammed hard against the unforgiving floor, pain exploding through him like a lightning strike. Blood oozed from the fresh wound, warm and sticky, mingling with the foul, bitter taste in his mouth. The metallic tang of blood danced with the nauseating flavor of semen, a grotesque mixture that made him want to heave. *Is this my life now?* He was drowning in a pool of violence and humiliation, unable to escape the reality that held him captive.

Time lost all meaning; seconds stretched into eternity as he lay there, gasping as his breath felt like it was tearing away from his very organs. *How much longer can I endure this?* His heart pounded painfully in his chest, each beat feeling weaker than the last, as though all the blood had drained from his body, leaving him a hollow shell. *It's like my essence is being pulled from me, leaving nothing behind-no strength, no hope.*

His vision flickered, dimmed by a haze of surreal agony, and he felt the sharpest edges of his soul being torn away, piece by piece. *This is more than just physical pain,* he thought, helpless against the tide of darkness threatening to swallow him whole. Each second that passed felt like a fresh violation, a reminder of everything he had lost. He was merely a vessel, his body twisted and used, sustaining the cruelty of those who sought to break him.

*Where is my will to fight?* The thought flickered in his mind, a faint ember struggling against a storm. But even that flicker felt dim under the weight of despair. In that moment of torment, as he wrestled against the inhibiting darkness, he couldn't help but wonder: *Would there ever be a way back to the light? Or had he fallen too far into the abyss?*