Chapter 89: Envy
The spring temperature wasn’t high to begin with, and the night wind was bone-chilling.
Blood seeped from Pei Zhouye’s knees, but he didn’t feel the pain. Having worked consecutively for days with an extreme lack of sleep, being blasted by the midnight wind made his body fluctuate between sudden cold and feverish heat.
Images flickered incessantly before his eyes: Yu-nüshi’s slender fingers suddenly tightening around his throat, the silhouette of his father watching coldly from the sidelines, and finally, the memory froze on Uncle Lin’s face, which was covered in blood and grime.
The moody Yu-nüshi. Sometimes her beautiful, gentle face would smile at him as she spoke in soft, delicate tones; at other times, she would shriek and weep.
Back then, he was only as tall as the Jinsinan wood table in their home. Yu-nüshi had said with a smile:
“Xiao Zhou, you’re already as tall as the table. How impressive. Why are you growing so fast?”
The young child, receiving his mother’s praise, stood by the Jinsinan table with secret joy, as if flaunting the traces of his rapid growth.
He said, “Mama, when I grow tall, I can protect you.”
He didn’t receive a reply. Instead, the woman’s slender hand suddenly shoved his chest. He stumbled back, the blunt corner of the table bruising his back so painfully that he didn’t even have time to react with tears.
Yu-nüshi stood there, her expression a mix of conflict and regret. She said, “Why did you grow so tall? If you hit your head, you’d probably die.”
Then he thought of his father—the eternally silent and hardened Pei Father.
Between him and Yu-nüshi, perhaps there was love. There must have been. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have kept Yu-nüshi at home at all costs, nor would he have treated the son Yu-nüshi loathed with such a cold face.
He didn’t know if his father had ever felt regret. He had heard that before the marriage, his father promised his mother they would never have children. He had overheard servants and relatives gossiping, saying that Yu-nüshi was kept in the dark for a long time after she got pregnant. Later, when her belly grew too large to hide, Pei Father used various methods to force her to give birth to this child.
At that time, Pei Father was also young. There were many children in the Pei family, and two were particularly outstanding in ability: Pei Father and Third Uncle Pei. Both were equally ambitious.
The Old Master favored his eldest son, but because he heard Pei Father didn’t want children, the distribution of assets had never been fully clarified. They already had so much money, yet people were still so greedy.
When Pei Zhouye was born, the succession rights to the Pei Group finally fell upon Pei Father.
Pei Zhouye’s vision grew increasingly blurred.
Before him was the tombstone. The two large gold-leaf characters, [Lin Zheng], seemed to sway, and the silhouette of a middle-aged man emerged.
Uncle Lin, with blood all over his face, dark eyebrows, and rugged features.
Lin Zheng—Pei Father’s old acquaintance, from a prestigious military background with distinguished service. He had injured his leg during a mission and retired with a limp. After leaving the military, he didn’t stay in the army but returned to civilian life. For some unknown reason, he completely severed ties with the Lin family and later adopted Lin Seran from an orphanage.
There were too few people who were kind to him. Pei Zhouye remembered it clearly: only Uncle Lin would smile at him every time he visited.
There was too little love in this world; Pei Zhouye had always believed this. So much so that later, when Third Uncle held a knife ready to plunge it into his chest, he didn’t seem to feel much terror.
It was just an instinctive struggle and resistance. But at twelve years old, facing a grown man with a knife, he seemingly had no way out.
Uncle Lin rushed out and grabbed Third Uncle from behind, and the two scuffled together. Uncle Lin was skilled, but he had an injured leg.
So much blood. Blood on the head, blood on the chest.
The knife was finally knocked away. Uncle Lin used all his strength to pin Third Uncle Pei down and turned to look at him.
The man, his face covered in blood, said to him: “Pick up the knife! Quick!”
Pei Zhouye’s vision was dazed. He seemed to feel the warmth and metallic scent of that blood again.
He seemed to see his twelve-year-old self picking up the knife and frantically stabbing the man pinned down by Uncle Lin—the neck, the chest… He only felt his mind and ears being pasted over by so much blood that he couldn’t hear the screams, nor could his brain think.
When the door was pushed open, the room was filled with blood. Of the three people in the room, neither of the two grown men could be resuscitated. Only a twelve-year-old boy survived.
This story circulated widely within their social circles at the time, though naturally, it never reached the public news.
Lin Zheng was dead. Third Uncle Pei still had a breath left but reportedly died shortly after reaching the hospital. To avenge themselves, the Lin family and the Pei family both suppressed the news to bury the scandal. Since Pei Zhouye acted in self-defense, no charges were pursued.
Since Uncle Lin had already severed ties with the Lin family, they were unwilling to take in the child he had brought home. The Pei family brought Lin Seran back with them.
Almost everything Lin Seran wanted, Pei Zhouye and Pei Father would give him.
“I’m sorry.”
Pei Zhouye’s voice was very low. He didn’t know how many times he had apologized to the tombstone. His chest throbbed with a dull ache, and his head felt heavy and dizzy, yet his kneeling silhouette remained stubbornly straight.
Pei Zhouye felt as though he saw Wen Yan again.
Wen Yan giving a speech under the national flag, his photo on the honor roll, taking care of stray puppies at the shop entrance, buying groceries with his parents, chatting and laughing with classmates on the way home, handing him a band-aid, offering help while considering his dignity…
He originally thought it would be envy.
Wen Yan had too many things. This world gave Wen Yan too much love, and what Wen Yan gave back to the world was also too much.
Pei Zhouye let out a low chuckle, thinking of the way Wen Yan looked when he was angry.
The addictive stalking, the near-fanatical obsession and collection—initially, he just wanted to know why.
Wen Yan falling into the water, the waves surging, the torrential rain hitting the water’s surface and the ground.
Tonight, Wen Yan slept in the lounge of Pei Zhouye’s office.
It was already nearing four in the morning when Wen Yan suddenly jolted awake.
It was raining outside.
Rain in A City during spring was a common occurrence—a drizzle tapping against the glass with a very soft sound.
Wen Yan sat up in bed and looked at his arm. His fair skin stood in stark contrast to the gray bedsheets.
This was Pei Zhouye’s bed. He was wearing clothes from Pei Zhouye’s lounge, and even the shampoo and shower gel he used were Pei Zhouye’s.
He liked Pei Zhouye; he didn’t feel repulsed by anything belonging to him. He even had a fleeting imagination of hiding here forever like a snail.
But the price was too heavy.
He couldn’t distinguish if this was love or an attachment born from too much pain.
Wen Yan had only slept for four hours. His brain was excessively clear, so he simply got out of bed and went to the window to look outside.
Buildings stood tall in clusters, with lights still flickering on some floors. Raindrops hung on the glass, the misty drizzle adding a touch of softness to this cold city.
It was always raining in Nanshi, especially in the summer when there were always torrential downpours. It was nothing like the spring rain here; it wasn’t gentle, but extremely dangerous storms.
Four years ago, Nanshi had a period of exceptionally heavy rainfall and typhoons. The river levels rose, and the television broadcasts warned citizens not to go out.
Wen Yan couldn’t remember how he spent that time. It seemed he had fallen ill and stayed in the hospital for a while. It was pouring outside while he sat in the hospital room eating fruit.
He seemed to see Pei Zhouye.
Wen Yan snapped back to his senses, frowning. Before his eyes was still just the glass.
How could he have such a bizarre memory?
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