Chapter 81: Avenging the Little Lion
It wasn’t until Zhou Yili’s thoughts grew muddled and dim that he realized he had yet to receive any response from Shen Jixing.
“Oh, so he doesn’t like me after all.”
Then why did he pursue me? Was Zhou Yili truly so unlikable?
As his blood drained away, cold seeped into his limbs, and Zhou Yili slowly closed his eyes, powerless.
He saw tiny roses blooming before him.
“Angry again.”
Zhou Yili wanted to be angry too, but he no longer had the strength.
Memories flickered through his mind like a lantern carousel; in his daze, he didn’t know at which point in his life he now lingered.
Don’t be angry anymore. I’ll behave, I won’t disturb you, isn’t that enough?
I love you.
But you are free.
“Zhou Yili.” Shen Jixing’s voice finally broke the silence, but the person nestled against his shoulder gave no reply.
He was too clever, so painfully aware.
He understood all too well what had led to this accident.
Shen Jixing closed his eyes gently. The mist in his clear gaze condensed, forming a brilliant drop that fell upon the shoulder of the one he held.
He wept.
When Sikong Xiu arrived, he was just in time to witness this scene.
So Shen Jixing truly was nothing like his aloof exterior.
He could be driven to a racing heartbeat by a single word from Zhou Yili, have little roses bloom in his hair, and shed divine tears for his wounds.
“It’s alright, help is almost here.”
Sikong Xiu crouched down to comfort him, “It was just a hard hit, he’ll be fine.”
The snow was soaked through with Zhou Yili’s blood, but Sikong Xiu was determined to believe he’d be alright.
He also knew that someone had orchestrated this.
The wire that snapped so suddenly should never have been near sharp rocks. But was the intended target Shen Jixing, or Zhou Yili?
“Aren’t you going with him?”
As the doctors lifted Zhou Yili onto the stretcher, Shen Jixing made no move to follow.
Sikong Xiu understood Zhou Yili better than anyone.
He was stubborn in his words but softhearted, sincere and passionate. Even after being hurt twice, he still loved the one who brought him so much pain.
He was simply too proud to admit it, pretending to disdain Shen Jixing’s closeness while secretly rejoicing at every touch.
In truth, it made his heart soar.
But Shen Jixing merely said, “Stay with him. I have something to do.”
His face was cold and indifferent. Apart from that single undetected tear, he seemed an outsider, untouched.
“Is it me he’ll want to see when he opens his eyes?”
For the first time, Sikong Xiu spoke without reservation. “He saved you, at least let him have what he wants, just this once.”
Sometimes he pitied the little lion.
He looked brash and proud, but everyone knew he was the one losing in this love.
Sikong Xiu was, after all, Zhou Yili’s friend.
“Mr. Shen, just because someone gives the most, doesn’t mean they deserve to be hurt.”
He looked at the proud, solitary figure in the snowbound world.
He sensed that Shen Jixing knew something, that he was once again at a crossroads.
“Are you really going to give him up again?”
Shen Jixing stood there in silence.
The whole world seemed to force his hand.
Yet, from the moment he was born, he’d never had a choice. His fate, his future, even his thoughts—no one had ever asked or cared.
Sikong Xiu realized his words had gone too far.
“I didn’t mean…”
“I won’t.”
Shen Jixing’s long, pale lashes were rimed with frost. “I won’t give him up again.”
This time, the one he would abandon—
Was himself.
…
The ambulance’s siren screamed past.
Mu Si, watching from the window, saw the red and blue lights cut through the traffic, every ordinary car yielding to open a passage between life and death.
“Now are you satisfied, sir?”
Mu Si no longer touched his candy.
He looked back at the man in the wheelchair, who lounged with easy composure. “You really are cold, ruthless, and arrogant.”
The man said nothing.
Bo Yu was in a good mood and ignored the impertinence.
He didn’t care how badly Zhou Yili was hurt.
“I told you, my patience has limits.”
His fingers laced loosely over his lap, his voice gentle and cool. “People must pay the price for their mistakes.”
“Is that so?”
As the frigid words faded, the door burst open with a crash.
Mu Si turned to see someone who shouldn’t have been here.
“Oh my.”
Shen Jixing had arrived.
He was still in his costume from the shoot—long white hair cascading coldly down his back, not a single rose in sight, as distant as a banished immortal struck to earth.
“Did I ever mention my patience has limits, too?”
Mu Si hadn’t expected him to find this place so quickly.
Clearly, after leaving earlier, Shen Jixing had left himself a backup plan.
Bo Yu, however, was unfazed, speaking with the composure of authority, “A’Xing, do you know what choice you need to make now?”
He didn’t want to turn against Shen Jixing; he felt reluctance and heartache too.
But every time, Shen Jixing managed to provoke him.
Shen Jixing did not answer immediately. “Out.”
Mu Si glanced at Bo Yu, then turned to leave.
Shen Jixing walked to the window. From this angle, he could see the corner of the wall from that afternoon, where he’d pressed someone up against it, making him grit his teeth in anger:
“Keep it down. Is chasing you really something to be proud of?”
Zhou Yili had glared at him in disbelief.
As if to say, am I that shameful?
The little lion always found him fierce, but in truth, he was endearing—something Shen Jixing had never told anyone.
Just one look, and his heart would spiral out of control.
“Sir,” Shen Jixing said softly, “There’s always been a question haunting me.”
“For the longest time, I didn’t know the answer.”
Bo Yu replied gently, “What is it? I’ll help you find your answer.”
Most of the time, Bo Yu had been a competent guardian.
Never stingy in teaching him any skill.
Shen Jixing spoke quietly, “At the point of my demise, if that hand reached out once more in the snowy night, would I still take it?”
Bo Yu’s expression darkened instantly.
“You regret it?”
He hadn’t expected Shen Jixing to be so obstinately lost.
Regretting the very beginning of their story. If only they’d never met, none of this would have happened…
Would he rather have died that snowy night?
“I would.”
The answer made Bo Yu pause.
“I would take that hand,” Shen Jixing said softly.
He had always been rational—too rational.
“I won’t imagine a road not taken, whether strewn with thorns or with flowers. I will always be grateful for everything you gave me before I turned eighteen.”
“For a long time, you were my faith and my goal.”
The light in Bo Yu’s eyes softened, as if recalling the years they had spent together.
While he gave Shen Jixing new life,
That boy had prayed for him, too—for him to find the courage to stand again.
Bo Yu smiled faintly, “And now?”
Shen Jixing shook his head, “I think, the answer to that question was never what tormented me.”
He opened the balcony door and wheeled Bo Yu into the open, letting the high-altitude wind rush over them.
In the distance, the sun set, nightfall descended, and the little town was awash in the interplay of warmth and darkness.
“What I regret, perhaps, is that I once lacked the courage that you did.”
“I kept hurting the same person in different ways.”
The boy who walked alone through the rainy night had never really learned to grow up.
The one who finally taught him to grow—
Was Zhou Yili.
“What do you mean?” Bo Yu didn’t understand.
Shen Jixing gauged the distance from the second-floor balcony to the first.
“It means, I’ve let go of who I was before I turned eighteen.”
That boy was obedient, weak, innocent, grateful, never resisted.
He worked hard to learn everything.
Wanted so much to be as outstanding as his mentor.
No matter how hard he tried, he could never meet those expectations, always cast into endless darkness.
He would comfort himself, holding on, whispering: It’s alright, just try a little harder.
A little harder, and he wouldn’t have to stay in the dark anymore.
He forgot he never belonged to the darkness at all.
“I finally have the courage to say farewell to my past,” Shen Jixing said, looking at the person he had admired for so long.
“So, sir.”
Shen Jixing pushed him to the edge of the second-floor balcony and, without a shred of hesitation, let go.
“However Zhou Yili was struck, you can go down too.”