Chapter 10

Song Yulin lost contact with He Yang.

He entrusted his domestic business to professional managers for remote management, but the managers themselves were nowhere to be found.

After returning to China, with the help of a powerful figure, Song Yulin and Lu An quickly pieced together the truth and found the culprit who bought Song Yulin's hand.

Unsurprisingly, it was that young master.

The bigwig provided a very complete chain of evidence, allowing Song Yulin and Lu An to sue each other at any time.

Song Yulin held up the phone, and the boss's voice came from the other end.

He said, "Your Don Quixote instructed me to find the murderer, and I did."

“But I think he’s a complete idiot.” The big boss seemed to laugh.

"This kind of self-indulgent effort has no return on investment."

Lu An seemed to hear this and nodded.

"Being overly emotional is always pointless."

Song Yulin clenched her fists tightly.

Yes, acting on emotions is pointless.

His heart, however, was hollowed out like an anthill, rustling softly.

Guilt caused by misunderstanding is not pleasant.

Whether an apology is made or not, whether compensation is provided or not, the damage left behind cannot be repaired.

Moreover, that person traded his own hands for his future.

To be honest, Song Yulin didn't feel moved at all; instead, she felt a kind of anger, as if she had been forcibly kidnapped.

But the memories pierced my chest like thorns, causing a dull ache in my lungs with every breath.

Even though he didn't want to be with her, he still felt pain for her.

Like instinct, it cannot be suppressed.

————

When Lu An and Song Yulin found the young master, they never expected him to look like this.

The young master's name is Mo Chenyu.

He also had handsome features and a tall, slender figure.

Song Yulin's hatred for him was bottomless.

I dare not dwell on it every day; if I were to think about it too deeply, I fear the earth would crack and mountains would tremble.

Even so, when Song Yulin saw that the young master had really become a young master, being held in the arms of a fat man, his body covered in strong liquor, and someone burning his chest with cigarette butts, she still felt a pang of heartache.

Inside the smoky club, everyone was a madman indulging in sensual pleasures, and the neon lights were like dice spinning on a knife's edge.

When it falls, the points will also turn blood red.

The young master smiled beautifully. He skillfully took the wine glass, lit a cigarette, and all the refined manners he had cultivated for over twenty years vanished like the smoke rings he exhaled.

They waited quietly for a while, and then the young master suddenly noticed the two of them.

His face turned pale almost instantly.

The sunlight, like plaster, sealed him into a lifeless statue.

Then the young master ran out like a madman.

Song Yulin and Lu An then caught up.

A cold light pierced the sky, and torrential rain fell from the wound in the heavens.

The young master ran in a sorry state. The back alley was full of puddles and garbage. He tripped and fell to the ground, covered in mud and water.

Song Yulin frowned, trying to pull him away, but the other person screamed, "Don't come any closer!"

The young master slowly got up from the ground. The rain soaked him through, revealing the mottled scars on his body under his shirt.

He looked like he was laughing through his tears: "You've come here to send me to prison, haven't you?"

Lu An held the umbrella over Song Yulin's head, shielding her from the wind and rain.

The young master, however, was like stubborn mud that refused to be washed away, seeping into the field of vision.

Song Yulin closed her eyes briefly, her voice cold and distant: "Yes."

The young master suddenly burst into laughter: "Good, very good, I can finally leave this awful place."

Seeing his almost manic state, Song Yulin couldn't help but ask, "How did you become like this?"

"Why do you hate me so much? First you plotted to slander me to He Yang, and then you bought my hand and took it away."

Song Yulin's fingertips dug into his palm, and he felt as if a fire was burning in his chest, scorching his heart.

"Mo Chenyu, you stole more than twenty years of my life." Song Yulin's voice was hoarse.

"You've ruined my love, and you're even trying to destroy the most important thing in my life—my career—and we didn't even know each other before!"

The young master was pale and his face was covered in rainwater.

He chuckled a few times, raised his chin, and said, "Of course I hate you."

“Unlike you, I’ve known for a long time that I’m not a biological child of the Mo family.”

The young master's eyes were bloodshot, like bursting fruit.

“From the age of thirteen onwards, I lived in constant fear, afraid that I would be kicked out of the Mo family the next day.”

"My beloved parents will abandon me, will despise me, will hate me!"

"ten years."

The young master took a few steps back, tilted his head back, and leaned against the dirty wall.

“I live in fear every day, I am afraid of your appearance every day.”

"I try my best to do everything well. I know I'm not particularly smart, much less outstanding."

“But He Yang praised me. He is so outstanding and handsome, and my parents have discussed a marriage alliance with his family.”

"As long as I marry into the He family, even if my identity is discovered later, a family like theirs will protect my identity in order to cover up the scandal."

"Everything is within reach. I can finally escape the fear of this life, hold on to the present life forever, and never fall from heaven into the abyss again."

His eyes darted around like rusty rust as he stared at Song Yulin: "But, you showed up."

"Without lifting a finger, they took everything from me: my lover, my talents."

The young master's eyes blazed with fury, like a crazed beast ready to tear others apart.

"I hate you. Without you, I would never be afraid or terrified. I would live in happiness forever!"

"You fucking stole my mom and dad!"

Song Yulin finally couldn't hold back any longer and rushed forward, punching the young master hard in the face. The young master couldn't take the blow and stumbled backward, crashing into a trash can.

"It stole my lover, it stole my inspiration, and it almost destroyed me!"

With a loud crash, trash littered the ground. He fell into a pile of rotten vegetable leaves and waste paper, and flies swarmed around him.

The young master's right cheek was swollen, his right eye was bruised and red, and his nose was bleeding profusely.

He seemed to be in a daze from the beating and couldn't get up for a long time.

Song Yulin wanted to rush up and kick the other person a couple more times, but Lu An held her back.

"He's not worth getting your hands dirty."

Song Yulin's chest heaved, and it took her a while to calm down, but the veins on her wrists were still clearly visible.

The young master, lying in the trash, burst into laughter, which was then gradually washed away by the heavy rain into suffocating sobs.

——

The young master confessed to all his crimes, but had only one request: "Take care of my mother; she is sick."

Song Yulin and Lu An took the young master abroad and filed a lawsuit. Because the evidence was complete, the young master was quickly imprisoned.

Song Yulin ultimately did not go to see it.

He later learned that the young master's real mother was still alive and had a serious kidney disease. He was kicked out of the Mo family and blacklisted by almost all businesses in the city. His money and credit cards were cut off, and he had no other way to make a living, so he had no choice but to become the young master.

Song Yulin later sent money to the young master's mother every month, saying it was money he had earned.

“He is very talented and now works abroad. I am his friend.”

Song Yulin called the other party and said,

"His work requires a certain level of confidentiality. You can write to him every month, and he will read it."

The young master's mother sobbed uncontrollably and whispered, "I know he will amount to something, I will wait for him to come back."

__

In the end, Song Yulin did not end up with Lu An.

Perhaps a person's emotions are like perfume; at their strongest, they are scorched by the blazing sun.

However, once exhausted, the bottle of the heart is also empty.

Lu An is a good person, but he shouldn't be with someone who is almost completely depleted and parched.

He talked at length, trying to evade the question, but Lu An interrupted him.

"Actually, I know you don't like me."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly a little troubled.

"I'm not really heartbroken, but—"

Lu An laughed helplessly: "This really hurts my pride. What is it about me that I'm not good enough?"

Seeing that he could still joke, Song Yulin finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He had seen people heartbroken; no matter how well they tried to hide it, their eyes were always filled with broken lines.

Lu An likes himself, but he's still far from loving.

"Because I have been unrestrained and loved freedom all my life."

Song Yulin smiled and looked out at the blue sky.

"I want to be a solitary traveler, painting mountains, rivers, and sunshine, feeling the scales of life."

—

Song Yulin left without hesitation and went to teach in the mountains.

He went to paint those pure eyes and faces, where his inspiration took on new wings.

Feel the most primal vitality of the land, the forest, and people.

Each stroke of color possesses character and struggle, desire and unbridled expression.

He would send his works back to the Mo family for exhibitions in their gallery, but he would no longer participate in competitions.

However, his reputation soared to unprecedented heights, and everyone wanted to meet him, but he hid in the mountains and forests, disappearing without a trace.

Song Yulin suddenly felt that all the love and hate of the past were very light, like a handful of dandelions that would disperse far away in the sunlight.

A bay opened up in his heart, with huge cruise ships, chirping birds, and undulating blue waves.

The power of life itself is something to be joyful about; temporary love and hate are not worth dwelling on.

He lived like this for three years, until he arrived at a new village and a familiar figure came into view.

It's He Yang—no, it's He Yang.

He was wearing a coarse cloth glove on his left hand and holding chalk in his right hand, teaching the children to write.

He Yang used to have excellent handwriting, but now his characters are crooked and he looks like he's struggling to hold the chalk.

But his expression was gentle, and the sunlight, like golden ears of wheat, shone into the man's eyes.

With a slight breeze, his eyes shimmered like waves of wheat, rising and falling.

His hair was cut very short, and he wore a slightly worn white shirt, looking like a rural teacher from the last century, his clothes clean and smelling of ink.

Song Yulin stood frozen in place, unable to move.

The children's clear, melodious reading voices rose and fell.

"Red beans grow in the south, how many branches will sprout in spring? I wish you would pick more, for this is the most cherished token of love."

If the story were told in detail, it would lose its charm.

A scene that is merely a depiction lacks charm.

So between him and him, there was also a blank space left in the ripples of sunlight.