Chapter 78 Sleeping Together: I Beg You Not to Be So Cruel
A snow-white soft towel was pressed tightly against the wound on Meng Shutai's neck to stop the bleeding. But even through the thick fabric, the maid's hands trembled like leaves. She frowned, closed her eyes tightly, and turned her head away from the sight of her husband's miserable state.
Another maid used a handkerchief, pinched into a small point, to gently rub the cut on Meng Shutai's forehead. The strong smell of blood assaulted her face, turning her pale. She bit her lip, forcing herself to continue wiping the blood despite her fear.
Besides them, dozens of other people were coming and going in the room, providing medical consultations, medicine, water, and changing clothes. For a time, Meng Shutai's room was filled with the sounds of crying and panic, as if the sky had fallen and everyone was running around, not knowing what the future held.
Amidst the commotion, Meng Shutai, covered in blood and with his black hair disheveled, sat listlessly on the bed, head bowed, utterly silent. His once shimmering eyes were now dull and lifeless, like two birds perched on his face, yet both were dead, their wings drooping heavily.
Qi Sheng knelt down in front of Meng Shutai with a thud, her mouth agape and she wailed, tears streaming down her face, as if her heart was breaking: "My lord, I beg you, please say something! For better or for worse, just let us know!"
Qi Sheng's sudden outburst drew everyone's attention to Meng Shutai, but upon seeing his broken and distraught state, they all averted their gazes, unable to bear the sight. The room was brightly lit, the glass beaded curtains shimmering with a warm, lustrous light, yet amidst the dazzling glow, everyone wept and suppressed their sobs.
The once exceptionally handsome and refined person was now frozen in silence, like a puppet with its strings cut. When asked about the events of the night, he did not answer a single question, nor did he utter a sound when asked if his wounds hurt. It was as if everyone and everything in the outside world had ceased to exist, and even he himself had vanished into thin air.
Everyone was crying like headless flies. Madam Meng rushed over in a panic, but before she could get close, she closed her eyes and fainted. Everyone was so frightened that they rushed to help her, pinching her philtrum and feeding her water until she came back to her senses.
Master Meng glanced at Meng Shutai through the glass curtain, and his heart sank. He swayed precariously, and Qisheng quickly steadied him, helping him sit down and patting his back to calm him. Master Meng's voice trembled: "What exactly happened at the pagoda? How did Shutai become like this? Did Lejin fall to her death?"
Qi Sheng wiped away her tears, "I don't know yet. After the young master inspects the offering tower, he never asks us to follow. He has to stay a while longer... The young master and the young prince are cleaning up the mess over there. We won't know until the young master comes back."
"Master! Madam! The young mistress is back..." A middle-aged servant, sweating profusely and panting, clung to the doorframe, adding to his unfinished sentence, "Yes, she's... she's a mess..."
The thought of the blood seeping from the shroud made his stomach churn, and he vomited loudly while leaning against the door frame.
Suddenly, everyone in the room gasped in surprise. The servant thought everyone was surprised because of him. Just as he looked up, he saw Meng Shutai, who looked crazy, stumbling over. He pushed him aside and ran barefoot outside.
His dark hair was disheveled, fluttering wildly in the night wind. Under the eerie moonlight, he looked like a forlorn monster, clutching his heart, anxiously searching for something.
The incident happened so suddenly that there was no suitable coffin available to place Le Jin's body. Yuan Jingming had no choice but to order people to bring a white cloth, wrap Le Jin's body in it, and transport it back to the mansion.
But when Bai Bu arrived, Meng Shutai refused to let go, insisting on holding the already limp Le Jin even tighter.
"Shutai! She's dead, let go!"
Yuan Jingming grabbed Meng Shutai's arm and pulled him away, but to everyone's surprise, the man's arm was as solid as iron and he was unmoved by lightning. He roared and tore at his throat, his voice hoarse and mocking. He didn't care about any dignity or respectability. He was a complete madman.
"Get out of the way! She's not dead!"
Meng Shutai's lips brushed against Le Jin's forehead, and he kissed her tenderly, murmuring, "She'll come back. She won't die. She was just angry with me, she's not dead..."
Hearing his mad words, Yuan Jingming felt a pang of bitterness choke in his throat, and a few tears rolled down his cheeks. They had grown up together since childhood; when had Meng Shutai ever been in such a chaotic and shameful state? Like pristine snow trampled into mud, he watched helplessly as Meng Shutai's icy beauty crumbled and his jade-like bones shattered.
With the white cloth tightly gripped in his hand, all the guards and servants watched this horrific scene. To save face for the Meng family and Meng Shutai, Yuan Jingming could only squeeze Meng Shutai's battered nape and knock him unconscious.
Even after fainting, it took a great deal of effort to remove Le Jin from Meng Shutai's arms. Yuan Jingming finally discovered that Meng Shutai's jade-colored fingernails were stained crimson with Le Jin's blood and flesh, as if someone had forcibly plucked out ten fingernails, a pitiful and horrifying sight.
After instructing his servants to send him back, Yuan Jingming's temple veins throbbed, yet he forced himself to continue dealing with the matters at the pagoda. Meng Cizhang, however, stayed behind, stopping Yuan Jingming and saying, "Brother Jingming, give me a team of trusted men; I'll handle it. This pagoda was originally overseen by our Meng family..."
From the moment Meng Cizhang watched Le Jin fall from the tower, that terrifying thought settled in his mind—his sister-in-law was telling the truth. But if his brother had truly committed a heinous act, the entire Meng family would be destroyed, hundreds of people would be wiped out, and even Bao Yin, entrusted to him by his sister-in-law, would be lost. Having lived as a wealthy and privileged young man for so many years, supported by others, he had to stand up at this critical juncture.
Yuan Jingming glanced at the wrapped-up Le Jin, and thinking that it was important to quickly lay her body to rest and put her in a coffin, he agreed to Meng Cizhang's request, and personally escorted Le Jin back to her residence.
The makeshift mourning hall in the Meng residence contained only a thin coffin. The old steward, Uncle Wang, with a white silk ribbon tied around his waist and red, swollen eyes glistening with tears, said mournfully, "Young Master, we have already asked people to bring the coffin, but it won't arrive until tomorrow morning at the earliest. Tonight, our young mistress will have to lie here in vain."
Yuan Jingming nodded, his voice low and hoarse. "Alright. How's things going with Shutai?"
As soon as he finished speaking, something suddenly rammed into him from behind, blurring his vision for a moment. When he came to his feet, he could see clearly that it was Meng Shutai.
The narrow coffin contained a tightly wrapped corpse. Meng Shutai rushed over, knelt down, and swiftly tore off the white shroud.
Who gave them permission to touch her?! Who gave them permission to put Le Jin in a coffin?! How terrified she will be when she wakes up!
"Hey! Shutai, stop!"
Yuan Jingming grabbed Meng Shutai's hand, anxiously trying to stop him. Unexpectedly, Meng Shutai bent his arm and slammed it straight into Yuan Jingming's throat, causing Yuan Jingming to fall backward in pain.
As soon as he fell, Meng Shutai's eyes turned bloodshot, and he grabbed Yuan Jingming's neck with both hands, determined to kill him.
Her disheveled hair hung down, concealing a beautiful face filled with anger and intense hatred, like a cannibalistic demon who had just escaped from hell.
"You stole her! You deserve to die—"
Meng Shutai let out a shrill roar, eerily cold like a long, monstrous ape in the winter snow, sending everyone trembling in fear. Yuan Jingming felt as if the hands on his neck weighed a ton; his greatest fear wasn't his impending death, but that Meng Shutai had gone so far as to try and kill him!
There seemed to be a cracking sound on his neck; Yuan Jingming knew he would surely die if Meng Shutai exerted any more force. However, unexpectedly, Meng Shutai let go.
For some unknown reason, his fierce expression crumbled instantly, replaced by an innocent panic and helplessness.
Meng Shutai turned around and continued kneeling beside the coffin, pulling back the white cloth until he saw Le Jin's pale face.
"Ah Jin, are you watching? I stopped, I didn't kill him..."
Meng Shutai placed his palm on Le Jin's cold face, his thumb caressing her no longer soft skin, like a child yearning for praise, repeatedly recounting his good deeds, hoping that Le Jin would open her eyes and smile at him.
But no matter how much he tried to explain, the person in the coffin remained unmoved.
Tears fell like beads from a broken string, one by one landing on the shroud. A wave of sorrow surged through Meng Shutai's heart, and he shrank back, spitting out a mouthful of blood into the coffin.
The dripping blood was like flowers blooming on the white shroud. Meng Shutai curved his pale lips into a smile, as if discussing something with Le Jin: "You hate being tied down, don't you? Shall we go back to where we are?"
He ripped off the blood-stained white cloth in one go and, amidst everyone's horrified gazes, personally carried Le Jin out in his arms.
She was already stiff, and it was difficult to carry her. Meng Shutai's own wounds hadn't healed yet, and now they had reopened. But he seemed to feel nothing, and turned to leave.
Under the silvery moonlight, his entire back was soaked in blood, like a slender red snake appearing and disappearing among his dark hair.
Yuan Jingming finally snapped out of his suffocation, got up from the ground, and stared at Meng Shutai's retreating figure. A chill ran through him, and his body felt frozen in place, with only one thought lingering in his mind like a raven:
He's really gone mad. The gentle, kind, and benevolent Meng Shutai of the past is gone forever.
——
Meng Shutai gently placed Le Jin on the bed and carefully covered her with the brocade quilt.
All the servants who had been there earlier had been frightened away, and Master Meng and Madam Meng had been persuaded to return to their room early in the morning. Outside, the lights were bright, and the whole Meng mansion was filled with the rumor that the eldest son had gone mad; no one dared to step into Meng Shutai's room.
Le Jin's eyes were closed, and the still-wet blood and mud beneath her body had soaked the bed, leaving traces of blood spreading beneath her corpse. But Meng Shutai pretended not to see it, smiling as he traced Le Jin's eyebrows and eyes with his fingertips.
He lay down as well, sharing the same pillow with Le Jin, and whispered to her as he turned to his side.
"When I was little, I had a serious illness in this very bed. People who are sick are so pitiful. It's like there's a wall separating me from everyone else. Their lives belong to them, and I'm left only with a deep, unawakened dream. Why should I?
"Gradually, I felt that living had no meaning. I hated those lively people in the world, hated their stupidity, hated their clumsiness, hated that they couldn't see that living was just a farce, and that love and hate were just bubbles."
He held Le Jin's hand tightly, his fingers digging into her stiff fingertips, stubbornly intertwining their fingers.
"But then you appeared..."
It shattered my boundless suffering like never before, and from then on, Bodhi flourished and the lotus throne shone brightly.
The red threads stirred up Meng Shutai's eyes, finally forming a tear of blood that slid down his pale, jade-like skin, leaving a faint red mark.
He leaned close to Le Jin's ear and whispered pitifully, "I beg you, don't be so cruel. Don't throw me back behind that dark wall where I died of illness. I beg you, A Jin..."
Meng Shutai wrapped his arms around Le Jin's waist through the blanket, his forehead pressed against her temples, smelling the cooled blood on her body, and sobbed with grievance after being abandoned.
Pain and exhaustion washed over him, and Meng Shutai closed his eyes in tears. But the night was unusually short, as if he had only taken a nap, and their first night together in bed was over.
When she opened her eyes again, Le Jin's face was faintly bluish-purple. Meng Shutai frowned, leaned over, and carefully rubbed her cheek.
"Don't be afraid. I won't let you rot, never."
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Author's Note: Here I am!
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