Chapter 26... It was bright red, like a tear of blood that refused to fall for a long time.
The so-called old man in the family that Li Xiao mentioned should be referring to his own father.
I don't know much about Li Xiao's family, but judging from some of Li Xiao's words and actions, his relationship with his family is probably not very good.
Otherwise, they wouldn't choose to stay out overnight on the winter solstice, nor would they want to return home to reunite with their parents and relatives.
Even if I don't go back, no one in that family will care.
I remember that Li Xiao had said something similar before in order to soften Lan Gongzi's heart and get him to agree to stay overnight.
It sounds like she's complaining about her family's indifference towards her.
But then I remembered Li Xiao's usual unrestrained and extravagant behavior, and then I remembered that day when several towering men rushed into the room and surrounded the boy, showering him with concern and care, even though it was just a little nosebleed...
This is hardly the kind of treatment a truly neglected and indifferent child should receive.
If Li Xiao hadn't repeatedly and explicitly forbidden it, those attendants would probably have followed closely behind, carefully taking care of their young master's every move, ensuring that Li Xiao wouldn't suffer any loss.
Therefore, I can never understand Li Xiao, just as he can never understand my helplessness and subservience.
Essentially, we are two completely different kinds of people.
I have no right to be jealous of Li Xiao, nor can I even begin to feel any envy. Ultimately, my petty envy and resentment would only bring me pain and serve no other purpose.
But there's always that one moment, like right now, listening to Li Xiao's nonchalant, casual complaints—
Suddenly, an image of my old, dilapidated courtyard in my distant hometown would appear in my mind, where cicadas would already be chirping and buzzing in unseen corners. And within that low fence, my father, with his hunched back, and my mother, secretly wiping away tears, would simply stand on either side of me, neither speaking nor looking at each other's faces.
And then there's the way my mother would hold up half-ripe loquats, her hands trembling, and keep stuffing them into my arms.
They looked travel-worn and extremely disheveled.
...On her face, there was a withered and sallow complexion that no amount of tears could wash away.
So much so that later, when I followed the slave trader into this bustling city, I suddenly saw two or three pairs of beggars lying in the shade of a small alley, taking a break to cool off.
Seeing their faces, though obscured by filth, still revealing their greasy skin and the languidness and weariness etched on them, a result of having no worries about food and drink, I was naturally filled with horrified horror.
I was horrified by what kind of place this was, where even beggars lived so leisurely.
In my shock, a bizarre thought flashed through my mind: what if... what if my mother had come too? Perhaps...
That was just a fleeting thought, of course.
But when I realized what I had just been thinking, I was so regretful that I almost slapped myself.
—What a bastard.
Selling oneself is somewhat understandable, but who would set their sights on their own mother?
Besides, even if this place is truly incredibly wealthy and overflowing with gold, what does it have to do with people like us?
Ever since my life was bought with a string of copper coins, I've been nothing but a slave, and I might not even be able to control my own death in the future.
Even the dirtiest and most destitute beggars are still human beings, and at least they retain the right to sell themselves.
Later, I entered the building and was extremely fortunate to be chosen by Young Master Lan to serve him. One day, I was standing in front of a window facing the street when I was attracted by the noisy commotion outside and peeked out.
I witnessed an astonishing scene.
A fierce fight, a brawl... a few people locked in a fierce struggle like wild dogs, unable to break apart.
They were all dressed like some of the beggars in the neighborhood that I remembered. I even recognized the face of a beggar who used to lean against the brick wall and doze off at the alley entrance.
The more carefree and relaxed he was then, the more miserable and wretched he is now.
He was surrounded and repeatedly beaten by several strong men.
After a while, almost when the beating was nearing its end, the patrolling constables arrived leisurely. The group that had gained the upper hand in the fight scattered at the first sign of trouble, revealing the dying beggar beneath.
Even though we were far apart, I still looked away immediately because of the person's horrific death.
Driven by curiosity, I couldn't resist looking back.
There wasn't much blood on the person, but he looked barely human. His broken limbs hung limply at his sides, and although his body was hunched over, his eyes and mouth were still wide open, rising and falling with his breaths, whether from pain or resentment, it was hard to tell.
I saw the man's eyes and recognized them as the eyes of a dead man... They were exactly the same as the eyes I had seen on the face of the deceased Aunt Li.
The beggar didn't die right under my nose; officials came and dragged him away before he could breathe his last.
The situation was no different from dragging a dead stray dog.
I watched them walk away, and then stood by the window for a long time.
My heart was pounding wildly inside me, unable to calm down for a long time, and I didn't know why... Perhaps it was out of a sense of shared sorrow.
I never imagined that the person I so arrogantly envied would end up in such a miserable state.
It wasn't until Young Master Lan approached and called me softly that I finally snapped out of my daze.
"What are you looking at? You seem so engrossed."
Upon hearing this, I turned my head and saw Young Master Lan's gentle smile.
That day, he wore a white robe with cloud patterns, which made him look even more elegant and clean, as if he were untouched by dust.
This appearance, compared to the scene I had just witnessed on the street, created a stark contrast in my mind.
I was momentarily dazed, and after a while I shook my head and replied, "No, nothing at all. I just suddenly remembered some people and things from my past at home, and I got lost in thought."
I didn't want to mention those bloody and cruel things to Young Master Lan, for fear of offending his ears and disturbing his mind. After all, he is such a pure and good person, and shouldn't be involved in those filthy things.
Even if I'm already mired in the quagmire of Huayue Tower, in my heart, Young Master Lan is like the lotus flower that rises from the mud unsullied in the articles he taught me.
I would rather see him as innocent and blameless.
Moreover, she didn't want to reveal her feelings to him because of this.
"Is that so?" Young Master Lan looked at me, seemingly believing what I said. But then he suddenly asked what I was thinking about that made me so engrossed.
Of course, I couldn't say that I was reminded of the scene of my neighbor lying dead in the backyard with his eyes wide open.
So I talked about my mother, avoiding the main point.
My mother was such a gentle person. Even though life was poor and difficult, she would still sing gentle lullabies by my bedside and pat my shoulder to lull me to sleep.
He also mentioned that his mother had specially asked someone to go to another place, just so that he could give me a decent name.
In fact, in villages like ours, almost everyone spends their entire lives working the land, facing the soil and turning their backs to the sky.
Few people were literate, so children were given humble names to make them easier to raise. Their formal names were usually just their surname, birth order, and some pleasant-sounding characters, and this was a privilege reserved for boys.
A woman's nickname will be used until she gets married, and then she will be called so-and-so's wife, so-and-so's mother, and as she gets older, she will be called aunt or grandmother.
Therefore, my mother's action was quite unusual.
When older women bring up this old story, they always let out inexplicable laughter, mocking my mother's wild ideas and whims.
Even more malicious speculations suggest that the naming might just be a smokescreen, a pretext to send a message to an old flame or something.
They started by talking about my mother, but in the end, the conversation always ended up focusing on my father.
My dad spoiled my mom too much; otherwise, he should have broken her legs and tied her up in the house to teach her a lesson.
They also said, "So what if my mother gave birth to a son? He's a complete idiot, you can't even fart properly, and he can't do any heavy work. All he does all day is huddle in the yard like a woman, twisting hemp rope and staring blankly at a sick tree sapling that won't bear fruit. Who knows what serious illness he might have?"
That's exactly what happened; my dad didn't pressure my mom to have another child...
Judging from their gritted teeth, anyone who didn't know better would think that our family's existence was blocking their hope of continuing their ancestral lineage.
—Otherwise, where would such a great resentment and hatred come from without any reason?
I also cannot agree with what they said.
I never thought my mother was a restless person.
“She just loves me. Is there anything wrong with a mother loving her child?” I asked, looking at Young Master Lan for his opinion.
She also got the answer she wanted from Young Master Lan.
"Of course." Young Master Lan nodded. "Your mother is very good. She did nothing wrong. She just happens to be different from the people around her."
He paused for a moment before continuing, "Some people fear this difference, because it makes them realize that they also have another possibility, a completely different way of living. When this awareness causes them pain, they attack the source of this awareness in order to alleviate the pain it brings."
I only understood part of what he said, but that didn't diminish my admiration and gratitude for Young Master Lan.
"However—" Young Master Lan suddenly changed the subject, "It seems you've been talking about your mother the whole time. What about your father? How does he treat you? Does he love you as much as your mother did?"
Young Master Lan mentioned it casually, but I was somewhat taken aback by his question.
My father, my dad, how he treated me...
"It's neither particularly good nor particularly bad."
I recall that taciturn man. In my memory, I always watched him from afar, watching him go out and watching him come home. We hardly had any intimate interactions and rarely spoke.
"It's probably just a typical father-son relationship."
I carefully considered my answer.
Although I say that, I don't really know how fathers and sons usually get along.
I have seen Aunt Li's son, Gou Dan, riding happily on his father's shoulders, running around the neighboring yard.
I've also seen Li Gou Dan being chased around the yard by his father with a pair of fire-starting tongs because he was being naughty. He was running fast and agile enough that Uncle Li couldn't catch his unfortunate son and was exhausted. So he could only verbally threaten Li Gou Dan that he should surrender, or else he would be in for a good beating.
Such farces happen every few days, sometimes even two or three times a day.
If the noise gets too loud, I'll put down the rope and turn around to take a look.
Then, they silently turned back to their own business—daydreaming or continuing to twist hemp rope.
Neither of these relationship dynamics seems to have ever occurred in our family.
My father and I were more like two strangers living under the same roof. The only connection was that my father married my mother, and my mother happened to give birth to me, that's all.
But that's enough.
I don't need any "love me, love my dog" mentality. As long as my mother can continue to live a peaceful life, I don't mind being the useless fool that people say I am.
Occasionally, I even have this thought: if it weren't for me, my mother's life would definitely be better; at least... she wouldn't be the one seeing me off.
—So haggard, so heartbreaking and sad to see.
"Then do you hate him?" Young Master Lan's voice came again, softly, like a feather brushing against the back of the neck.
My heart skipped a beat when I heard that: "Who? Who do they hate?"
“Your father, your dad,” Young Master Lan said slowly. His body moved slightly, revealing a red tear mole at the corner of his eye, bright red, like a tear of blood that had been refusing to fall for a long time.
Do you hate him?
He repeated it again, still in a nonchalant tone, yet it sent a chill down one's spine.
I couldn't help but lower my eyes, avoiding those clear yet slightly cold gazes.
"Why...why should I hate him? I have absolutely no reason to hate my own father." I heard myself arguing softly, "Although Father...treats me only so-so, he truly loves Mother, and he will always be good to her for the rest of his life, so..."
Is that enough?
That's enough, isn't it?
Because of you... because of me, I've long since become incapable of doing anything more.
The voices in my heart rang out in a cacophony, carrying a sense of settledness.
"I see."
I looked up again as Lan Gongzi sighed softly. Outside the window, clouds drifted by, casting a dark shadow behind me.
When you look again, the beauty mark under the young man's eye seems to have suddenly disappeared into the shadows and can no longer be seen.
The next day I heard that those people had started fighting in the street because they were fighting over territory.
Even among beggars, there were distinctions of high and low status, and different classes.
The unfortunate fellow who didn't have time to take his last breath on the street was none other than the former leader of the beggars in this area. Of course, the reason he was able to take that position was because, many years ago, he led a group of young and strong followers to do the same thing to the previous leader.
The location is just two streets away in a small alley.
Coincidentally, the one who led the rebellion this time seems to be a distant nephew of the former loser.
Therefore, this was both a rebellion and a plot to seize power, and a deliberate act of revenge after many years.
What seemed like an unexpected disaster was actually a fitting retribution.
When I heard about this, I had only one thought in my mind—I wonder if the old beggar who died on the street, like his predecessor, had planted a seed of revenge early on.
But I think that, regardless of whether that possible avenger exists or not, one day in the future, this scene will surely be repeated. Just as it has happened countless times before, it will happen countless times again in the future.
Just like a classic play, sooner or later, details such as time, place, and characters will naturally change over time, but there are always some things that remain unchanged.
But when that day really comes, I may no longer be here.
—Not only me, but many of the people I know now may not even be alive by then.
Therefore, some things shouldn't be thought about too far in the future.
It's not that I couldn't think of it, it's that... it was too late.
Unless, of course, a way to transcend life and death can be found, such as immortality, or perhaps...
With a soft thud, the porcelain cup gently collided with the wooden table.
I raised my eyes and, through a wisp of mist filled with the bitter smell of medicine, saw Li Xiao's pale face, which was full of displeasure.
"What are you standing there for? Hurry up and drink it while it's hot. It's not kind of me to bring you this medicine."
I didn't immediately pick up the bowl to drink the medicine. Instead, I tentatively touched the rim of the bowl with the back of my hand. Fortunately, it wasn't too hot anymore.
Seeing that I didn't move for a moment, Li Xiao immediately crossed his arms: "Why are you looking at me like that? Do you expect me to feed you bite by bite? Let me tell you, kid, you need to know when to stop. Don't get your hopes up too high."
Before he finished speaking, I had already held the medicine bowl in both hands and brought it close to my lips, then held my breath and swallowed it down.
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