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墨書 Inktalez
As they reached the doorway, Qian and Lu Zheng paused, exchanging a glance before continuing forward.
"Old man, don’t scare me! Old man!"
"Dad, wake up!"
From behind, chaos erupted in the house. Lu Yao half-embraced Lu, anxiously watching as Lu fell into unconsciousness. Suddenly, a memory flashed in his mind of the last time his father had collapsed. Zhang Yan had taken action then, and he quickly reached out to pinch Lu's acupoint.
Ding Cuiying, in a panic, grabbed a bowl from the table, dipped her hand in water, and splashed it onto Lu's face. She had seen others do this when someone fainted in the village.
Lu slowly regained consciousness, and the first thing he did was swat away Lu Yao's hand.
Lu Yao immediately released his grip and looked at Lu's acupoint, noticing that in his urgency, he had applied too much pressure, leaving a deep mark from his fingernail.
Lu's face was wet, and his clothes around his neck were soaked through; he struggled to breathe, gasping for air and looking utterly disheveled.
Ding Cuiying looked at him with relief and threw her arms around Lu, crying uncontrollably. "Old man, you finally woke up! You scared me to death! What would I do if you were gone? Old man!"
The impact of Ding Cuiying's embrace made Lu's chest ache; it felt as if he might faint again right after waking up. He lifted his weary eyes to the ceiling beams, a flicker of resentment and regret passing through his gaze. He should have acted decisively back then and taken the fatal blow instead of now facing this bitter consequence.
With a feeble hand, he pushed Ding Cuiying off him, struggling to catch his breath as he said, "Get up."
Hearing this, Lu Yao quickly urged Ding Cuiying aside. "Mom, hurry up! Dad is going to faint again under you!"
Looking at Lu with tears in his eyes, Lu Yao asked in a choked voice, "Dad, what are we going to do? I’ve lost my wife and children; we’re about to lose our home too. What will we do from now on?"
"Dad, you have to hold on! Otherwise, it’ll just be Mom and me left. How are we supposed to live?"
Lu turned to look at Lu Yao with disappointment; how could the Lu family produce such a useless son? He then glanced at Ding Cuiying and found an answer in her expression. Despair washed over him as he closed his eyes.
He had chosen this path; he would continue down it.
Looking at the money on the table brought a pang of pain to his heart—his two grandsons were gone just like that.
His son was also nothing; was the Lu family going to die out? How would he face the elders of the Lu family a hundred years from now? As long as he was alive, he wouldn’t let that bastard live so smoothly.
Lu Yao stared at the money on the table, feeling like he had forgotten something important in his mind. It felt urgent, yet he just couldn’t recall what it was.
Wen Qian and Lu Zheng stood in the courtyard. She gazed at the main house that had already been torn down, her eyes filled with complexity. This place had been her home for so many years; she had experienced some of the most tormenting moments of her life here, especially during those painful years spent deep in the mountains.
Lu Zheng didn’t look elsewhere but kept his head lowered, watching her. She had changed so much; a person’s nature could undergo a complete transformation in four years. Everything about her was different now. For the first time, he felt his heart had found its home, yet it seemed she no longer wanted him.
Wen Qian noticed his gaze and turned to him with a faint smile, softly saying, “Thank you!” It felt like she was thanking a stranger who had helped her. Although there was sincerity in her words, they were laced with distance.
She turned away and walked toward the thatched cottage. She hadn’t failed to notice his eyes on her, but she too had her own burdens to bear. She couldn’t ignore what had happened in her past life; she couldn’t overlook the pain she had endured. Those feelings were something she had personally experienced; she knew the depths of despair and the anguish of separation.
However, Xiao Chen was still young, and she needed to think of him. She wanted him to have a joyful childhood and a healthy, complete family. As for her and Lu Zheng, they could deal with that later. She couldn’t make any promises; it was all left to time and him.
Lu Zheng turned around, his deep eyes fixed on the faint light coming from within the thatched cottage, where a woman was surrounded by a warm yellow glow. Listening to the sounds of laughter between her and the child inside, he felt a bittersweet smile tug at his lips as he lifted his heavy feet toward the cottage, moving toward that glimmer of light.
At this moment, dusk had settled in with a gray hue, and a cool summer breeze swept away the oppressive heat in the air, bringing a refreshing chill. A few people trudged along the difficult mountain path, cursing yet feeling unusually excited.
They quickly walked in one direction, holding bags and ropes in their hands.
Lu Yao lay on the bed, his mind occupied with thoughts of Zhang Yan. She would never marry again; even if someone were willing to take her, she would absolutely not dare to remarry. Because she couldn't reveal that secret, otherwise, even if she did remarry, she would be driven away.
How could he not have planned ahead? Losing both sons was a tremendous blow for him; he would never have other children in this lifetime. He never expected that all his calculations would ultimately backfire on himself.
Lu Yao felt a tightness in his chest, as if something was about to happen, but he couldn't recall what it was. Suddenly, he heard a knock at the door, and Lu Yao sat up abruptly.
He remembered now; he had recalled something important. Inside the thatched cottage, Lu Zheng and Wen Qian both heard the knocking sound. It wasn't particularly loud—enough for those inside to hear without disturbing anyone nearby.
Wen Qian pulled at Lu Zheng, shaking her head at him. "Stay down," she said softly. "We don't need to worry about it; it has nothing to do with us."
Lu Zheng obediently lay back down but looked at Wen Qian with confusion. She was trembling all over; although she tried to suppress her quivering voice, it still came out shaky. Her palms were cold and slightly sticky with sweat.
As the knocking continued at the door, Lu Zheng noticed Wen Qian's breathing becoming increasingly rapid, her trembling growing more pronounced as her hands clenched into fists and her eyes tightly shut.
He reached out to press down on her shoulder, shaking her gently as he called her name urgently, "Wen Qian, Wen Qian, wake up!"
Wen Qian suddenly opened her eyes wide, looking at him in pain and despair mixed with a hint of anger and worry.
Lu Zheng was startled by the desperation in her gaze. As she focused on him, she struggled to calm her breathing and managed to open her mouth slightly to whisper hoarsely, "I’m fine."
"What’s wrong?" He got out of bed and poured a glass of water for her, noticing the cold sweat on her forehead.
Even in the darkness without lights, Lu Zheng could see her anxious expression and some very unusual small movements. He glanced toward the door of the thatched cottage, listening to the persistent knocking. He felt a strong sense that something was wrong with Wen Qian and that it was connected to whoever was outside.
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