Part 4
“Ah!” The word “Mayor” startled Xiaochun like a ghost. Her emotions, just calmed, fell into disarray again. “No, no! We don’t want the money. Auntie, we have to hand them over to the Mayor quickly.”
Shi Ye’s arm muscles suddenly tightened, ready to strike.
The middle-aged woman noticed keenly and quickly reached out to cover Xiaochun’s mouth. “Didn’t you hear what he just said? The entire Federal Army belongs to his family. The Mayor is nothing. If you want, let him arrange for you to be a Mayor.”
“Mmph—mmph—”
“Calmed down? If you’re calm, Auntie will let you go.”
“Mn-hm.”
Getting a breath of fresh air, Xiaochun whispered, “Auntie, ignore them. If the Mayor finds out we’re hiding people, he’ll kill us.”
Shi Ye was just about to speak when the middle-aged woman beat him to it. “Xiaochun, either you go out right now—I’ll take responsibility for this alone, but you probably won’t get that ten thousand.”
“Ten thousand…”
Xiaochun looked timidly at the middle-aged woman, then at Shi Ye.
“Stuff the towel in his mouth first. I need to treat his wound.”
Shi Ye stopped dwelling on Xiaochun’s attitude. He quickly stuffed a towel into Wen Rong’s mouth and pinned down his shoulders.
Hydrogen peroxide was poured onto the wound, reacting with the blood to create fine, dense bubbles.
Wen Rong’s eyelids flew open, brows knitting tight, his beautiful eyes instantly swimming in tears.
It was the first time Shi Ye had seen him cry like this—a purely instinctive reaction triggered by excruciating physiological pain.
“Hold him!”
Shi Ye had to pin Wen Rong down with dead force, yet he dared not look at him again, averting his eyes to ask, “Isn’t there a hospital nearby?”
“Where would there be a hospital in the Outer District? Those are just places that sell fake medicine at high prices. Even this bottle of peroxide cost me a hundred bucks… What are you panicking for? Around here, women don’t die from the pain of childbirth; can a grown man die of pain?”
Shi Ye knew he couldn’t ask for too much in this special situation, but when the needle pierced into Wen Rong’s flesh, the muffled groan blocked by the towel pierced his eardrums, and his heart gave a heavy thump.
“Gentle…” Shi Ye swallowed saliva, making the request with difficulty. “A little gentler.”
“Don’t waste time. The power is going to cut soon. Hold him down hard; if he moves, I might stitch the wrong place.”
Shi Ye was forced to continue pinning Wen Rong down.
From his angle, he was directly above Wen Rong. His retracted gaze fell once again on Wen Rong’s pale face. The intense pain caused a terrifying redness to rise on every inch of skin; his eyes were bloodshot, his neck trembling from the immense biting force of his upper and lower teeth, veins bulging abruptly under the skin.
There was no anesthesia. Only screaming could alleviate the pain, and Wen Rong couldn’t even use that method.
Shi Ye’s nose stung. He felt Wen Rong’s bones digging into his palms; he could almost fail to hold him.
“Almost done, almost done,” the middle-aged woman reminded anxiously.
“Almost, bear it a little longer.”
“Done in a second.”
Every second was stretched infinitely long. The “second” fell into an endless loop, unable to end.
He didn’t know how long passed. The beautiful eyes lost focus, framed by a layer of tears, staring numbly upwards.
Like a man dying with his eyes wide open.
Snap.
Surroundings plunged into darkness.
The sound of rain became prominent, slapping against the window bars.
Shi Ye could no longer see Wen Rong’s face. In the darkness, another snap sounded—the middle-aged woman putting away her forceps.
“Done.”
Wen Rong’s torture was over.
Shi Ye was soaking wet. He knew that wasn’t residual rainwater; it was sweat.
Middle-aged woman: “Watch his condition tonight. If he gets a fever, call me immediately.”
Electricity was scarce in the Outer District. Regardless of the season, every household used a stove to burn fire for cooking three meals a day.
Shi Ye and Wen Rong were settled by the stove.
Shi Ye let Wen Rong rest his head on his lap, allowing the heat to dry his hair, then helped him take off his wet clothes and hung them by the stove.
In the dark, the sensation of touch was more real than sight—terribly cold. Shi Ye’s heart was full of Wen Rong’s injury; he couldn’t generate any obscene thoughts, only wanting to wrap Wen Rong tightly in the quilt to make him a bit more comfortable.
Wen Rong woke up once during the night.
He cried out in pain groggily, wanting to curl up into a ball. Shi Ye, afraid he would tear the wound, could only forcibly hold him down to stop him from moving.
Wen Rong stopped moving and stopped crying out. Shi Ye thought he had fallen asleep, but not long after, he heard sobbing sounds and realized he was crying quietly.
His heart immediately convulsed. He picked Wen Rong up, quilt and all, and murmured softly, “I won’t let you come to this place again, even if I die.”
Silence answered Shi Ye.
The Outer District without electricity was like a dead city.
Occasional thunder split the sky and cracked the earth, illuminating the broken walls and ruins.
Shi Ye buried his head in Wen Rong’s neck. Heat surged wave after wave from inside the quilt, almost drying his wet eyes.
Xiaochun left the doctor’s house early in the morning.
Around here, five thousand bucks could build a three-room house like the doctor’s, buy a bed, connect water pipes, and allow one to do business comfortably in the future.
With this windfall, she didn’t even feel bad stepping on the mud with her shoes, her thin figure skipping back to her room.
Just as she approached, her shoe was suddenly stained red by blood flowing past.
Xiaochun paused mid-step and saw two shirtless big brothers dragging a disheveled woman into the distance.
The woman’s messy hair covered her face, and she was covered in mud; it was impossible to tell who it was.
“What happened here?” Xiaochun asked someone nearby.
“What else? She upset them last night, I guess.”
“Oh…”
Xiaochun had thought it had something to do with Wen Rong.
She breathed a sigh of relief. Just as she was about to go back to her room, she heard someone say, “Xiaochun, did you see the notice issued by the Mayor? Looking for Wen Rong. Didn’t expect Wen Rong to actually come to our town.”
Xiaochun jumped in panic. “He knows Wen Rong came to town?”
“What?”
“No no no no… nothing…”
The rain kept falling. In a short while, the blood on the ground soaked into the mud and disappeared. Everyone went about their business as if nothing had happened.
What if the Mayor finds out?
He’ll kill me!
I still have ten thousand bucks unspent; I still have a house!
Xiaochun walked into the room out of her wits, a new idea popping into her head: First let Wen Rong send the money, then report him to the Mayor!
Having made up her mind, Xiaochun fearfully packed the money-receiving machine into her bag and ran quickly back to the doctor’s place.
Pushing open the door, ignoring everything else, she quickly threw the money machine in front of Shi Ye.
“You you you… send the money.”
Shi Ye was holding a bowl of steaming water, blowing on it to cool it down.
Looking up at her, that sharp face with its fierce look struck fear into Xiaochun.
It was too dark last night; she actually hadn’t seen clearly what Shi Ye looked like. Now that it was bright, she somewhat admired her own guts from last night.
Xiaochun slowly backed away, hesitating whether she should skip the money and go directly to report to the Principal (Mayor) to save her life.
Translator’s Note: In the source text, she thinks “Principal” here, likely a slip of the mind confusing the term due to Wen Rong’s school background or just panic, but contextually she means the Mayor.
“How much do you need?”
A gentle voice suddenly rang out.
Xiaochun looked over and saw Shi Ye hand the bowl to the side. Wen Rong followed his movement, lowering his head to take a sip of water.
His eyelashes were very long—Xiaochun had never seen such long eyelashes, like strands of hair.
📖 Advance Access: Complete Novel
- Option 1: Note your email on PayPal/Ko-fi.
- Option 2: Email proof to beezzzreads@gmail.com.
- Option 3: Comment below.
Recommended Reads
