Lu Zhiyao had been abandoned by his mother as a child. Then, he was left to wander for half a year before meeting his master and finally getting enough nutritional food to eat.
The original novel hadn’t gone into detail about Lu Zhiyao’s background, but in Li Ruoshui’s imagination, his mother was a vicious woman who abandoned her disabled son once she entered a wealthy family.
She should have been beautiful but with a sharp, mean-spirited air, adorned in gold and silver, sneering coldly at her own child—not this ethereal dressed woman with the innocence of a young girl.
Apart from being beautiful, she was nothing like Li Ruoshui envisioned.
Bright eyes, white teeth, and radiant as the spring flowers—she was a rare beauty, bearing a sixty or seventy percent resemblance to Lu Zhiyao. A faint smile played on her lips, not as gentle as Lu Zhiyao’s, but her smile held the genuine innocence he lacked.
Bai Qingqing took a moment to navigate the chaotic flowerpots on the ground and placed the food box in front of Little Lu Zhiyao. The sandalwood beads on her wrist jingled softly.
She looked at Little Lu Zhiyao carefully, then took his hand. Her innocent smile vanished instantly. She frowned slightly, her tone somewhat anxious. “Ah-Chu, the prayer beads Mother gave you? Where are they?”
It was only then that Li Ruoshui realized his childhood name was Ah-Chu. It actually sounded rather similar to a girl’s name.
Young Lu Zhiyao pointed in Li Ruoshui’s direction, his voice clear. “Over there, probably.”
Bai Qingqing looked over and indeed saw the string of white prayer beads. Instantly, her previous naive and innocent expression returned. “Mother thought threw them away.”
Watching her rapidly changing expression, Li Ruoshui suddenly sighed inwardly. Like mother; like son. The speed at which their mood shifts are identical.
Bai Qingqing opened the food box, took out the food, and arranged it on the table. She then navigated her way around the flowerpots to retrieve the prayer beads, muttering as she went. “I prayed to Buddha for these. They can protect our family, keep us together and make your father return to us.”
Little Lu Zhiyao didn’t respond, feeling around to pick up a steamed bun laid on the table and began chewing.
Li Ruoshui leaned in to look at the food and immediately felt her stomach churn. For a five or six-year-old child, what was set before him were actually steamed buns and greens. There wasn’t a trace of single meat or fat in front of him.
And Little Lu Zhiyao seemed to eat it with relish, not finding anything amiss.
Is this child abused???
Li Ruoshui exclaimed mentally: ‘So Bai Qingqing really is no good, a mean woman who abandoned her son! I was almost fooled by her looks!’
Li Ruoshui turned to look. Bai Qingqing had finally reached the rose bush. Holding her skirt, she bent down, the faint smile still on her lips.
The young was adorned by beams of sunlight, elegantly smelling the fresh bloomed flowers, evoking an ethereal scene.
However, this young girl unhesitatingly gripped the thorny stem and snapped it off, throwing it to the ground.
The pink rose was discarded on the ground, the dew on its petals scattering like fallen teardrops. The butterflies that had been sipping nectar fluttered their wings and left.
The tender, dewy rose lay on the stone pavement. Petals crushed underfoot became a decadent, dark red, smeared starkly against the white stone.
“Ah-Chu, Mother prayed to Buddha for these, for your father.” Bai Qingqing slipped the prayer beads back onto his wrist, her reasoning shifting from the original “our family” to just “father.”
She sat on a stone stool, propping her chin in her hands as she watched him eat, her eyes full of maternal affection. “You eat just like your father. And you’ve only met a few times. Blood ties are such a wonderful bond, aren’t they?”
Young Lu Zhiyao still didn’t speak, as if accustomed to her monologuing.
“If only I had such a connection with him too.” Hearing Bai Qingqing’s words, Li Ruoshui’s eyes widened. She had never heard of anyone willingly wanting to be someone else’s son. Enjoying the story? Read on at novelping dot com.
Li Ruoshui nodded. Sure enough, his mother’s brain isn’t normal either.
Seemingly annoyed by her chatter, Lu Zhiyao sighed softly, licked the bun crumbs from his fingers, raised a smile, and gave a perfunctory response. “Is that so?”
Bai Qingqing continued watching him, becoming more and more entranced, her expression taking on a hint of obsession. “A-Chu, you look more and more like your father. But he still left.”
“If only he were blind too, then he’d have to rely on me.”
“Ah-Chu, Mother said before, I wanted to pierce your father’s ears, but he already left. How about I pierce yours instead?”
As if lost in some beautiful fantasy, Bai Qingqing held her slightly flushed cheeks. Her demeanor now was like a girl in love, her gaze focused on Lu Zhiyao was so intense it almost looked like he would ignite.
…Help! Oh my word! His mother is a f*cking yandere!!! (⊙_⊙!)
This scene impacted Li Ruoshui no less than being pulled down the shaft by Lu Zhiyao. She was absolutely gobsmacked.
She was just using Lu Zhiyao as a substitute for his father! And he’s just a child!!!
His father ran away, his mother is a yandere, using him as his father’s stand-in, trapping him in this tiny courtyard.
She finally understood Lu Zhiyao’s personality. Who wouldn’t become as twisted growing up in such a harsh, distorted environment?
Sadly, young Lu Zhiyao seemed accustomed to all this, his expression was normal like this was an everyday thing. After finishing two steamed buns, he didn’t touch the plate of greens. He merely raised his head to silently “gaze” at the sky.
Seeing him silent like this, Li Ruoshui felt a complex mix of emotions.
Bai Qingqing reached out to straighten his obviously ill-fitting white clothes, her gaze distant. She was no longer looking at Lu Zhiyao. “This white robe still suits you so well. When you threw it away, I thought you didn’t like it.”
Young Lu Zhiyao didn’t spare her a glance, as if simply spacing out, or perhaps thinking about something.
Regardless of what he was thinking, Li Ruoshui could read two words in his expression: “I’m bored.”
Bai Qingqing immersed herself for a while, then, as if suddenly remembering something, her smile turned doting. She reached out and cupped young Lu Zhiyao’s small face. The sandalwood beads on her wrist clinked together with crisp intonations. “Didn’t we agree to pierce your ears? Ah-Chu, are you ready?”
Little Lu Zhiyao finally showed some reaction. His misty eyes turned towards Bai Qingqing. He nodded indifferently.
“Do you know why Mother loves you? Because A-Chu is so obedient. No matter how much Mother loves you, you’ll never leave.”
She took out the silver needle and medicinal wine she had prepared from the food box. Young Lu Zhiyao showed no reaction as he continued staring straight ahead with his misty eyes, seemingly unfocused.
Bai Qingqing soaked the silver needle in the medicinal wine, stirring it while smiling brilliantly, as carefree as if she’s going on a picnic. “Mother received news of your father the day before yesterday. It seems he’s gotten married.”
The yellow wine was slightly murky. The silver needle spun within, shredding the few herbs inside. Yet her face still held that innocent expression. “But we can’t blame him, can we? Didn’t Mother remarry too, bringing you along? Your father must be angry with me, right?”
A wind blew through the narrow courtyard. The crushed petals underfoot were smeared with mud and stuck to the stone, like an indelible bloodstain. The scent of flowers filled the air, but the thick smell of wine was even more prominent.
Young Lu Zhiyao didn’t care. He was just wondering how big this courtyard really was, why he had never managed to find the gate no matter how many times he felt his way around. This chapter was copied from novelping dot com without permission.
“Are you angry with me, A-Chu? Is it because I remarried?” Bai Qingqing waved the wine bottle aside. The porcelain vial wobbled twice on the table before steadying itself. The silver needle inside clinked against the neck, a pleasant, tinkling sound.
He was almost entranced by it.
Not getting a response from her beloved, Bai Qingqing leaned forward, grabbing his arm. She smiled innocently, yet her eyes held clear tears. Her expression seemed teetering between sorrow and mania. “Why won’t you answer me? Is it because you’re jealous I remarried, so you took a wife too? Our A-Chu is blind. He needs you. Why won’t you come back?”
Little Lu Zhiyao turned his head to “look” at her, still unfocused. Those eyes held only the misty rain of the Jiangnan region, softly and gently obscuring the sunlight trying to break through. “Mother, are we piercing my ears now?”
Bai Qingqing immediately smiled, pinching his cheek gently. Her tone was gentle, the suppressed pitch carrying a slight tremble. “Now now, don’t say anything else A-Chu. Just say you’re jealous. Say you’re jealous I remarried.”
His small face was pinched in every which way. His crimson lips were nearly pulled toward his ears. His dark pupils couldn’t find focus. He looked just like a puppet, being arbitrarily bullied and manipulated.
Even as an adult Li Ruoshui was terrified. Little Lu Zhiyao was only five or six years old. How could he not be scared?
She tried to pull Bai Qingqing’s hands away from his face, but it was useless; her hands passed through her every time, leaving her feeling helpless.
Bai Qingqing’s tears were unstoppable now, cascading down her cheeks, a truly pitiable sight. However, her words were dripped with malice. “Back then, to keep you by my side, I had to take medicines. I made our A-Chu blind! But you still left without a shred of pity. Your heart is so cruel. Are you jealous now? Are you? Are you jealous?”
Hearing this, Li Ruoshui stared blankly at Lu Zhiyao, her heart aching terribly.
Neither of his parents truly wanted him at his birth, and his eyes were ruined by his own mother.
“Oh.” A soft smile curved Little Lu Zhiyao’s lips, but with his cheek pulled, the smile became strange, like a cereus[1]blooming in the night, silent and tranquil, carrying an unconscious fragility.
He spoke, his clear child’s voice naturally carrying a tone of innocence: “I’m jealous. I’m jealous you married someone else.”
Young Lu Zhiyao clearly strained himself to say these words. Bai Qingqing seemed to have a switch flipped. Her tears stopped. She smiled, wiping the tear stains from her face, and affectionately tapped the tip of his nose, the very picture of a maiden in love. “I knew you were jealous. But don’t be sad. I married this man because he resembles you a little. I just love you too much. I miss you so much I’m going crazy.”
Little Lu Zhiyao chuckled softly, as if hearing a joke, then said, “Mother, are we piercing my ears or not?”
“Of course we are.” Bai Qingqing picked up the medicine bottle again. The tear tracks were still wet on her face, but she began humming a soft tune, her voice thick with nasal congestion.
She took out the silver needle, saturated with medicinal wine, her eyes curving as she leaned in to pinch Little Lu Zhiyao’s earlobe.
The needle went in without hesitation. Bright red blood droplets fell from his earlobes like little red beans, sprinkling dots like plum blossoms onto his white clothes.
“Look, these are the ear studs I finally found after looking for so long. They’re made from the bones of a white feathered chicken. Aren’t they pretty?”
After piercing both ears, Bai Qingqing waved two small ear studs before his eyes, her eyes curved like crescent moons, her tone full of a sense of seeking praise.
She forgot her child couldn’t see anything, happily inserting the studs into the earlobes that still welled with red beads.
The cicadas outside the courtyard walls continued their desperate screeching, as if this summer would never end.
Li Ruoshui didn’t hear a single cry of pain from Lu Zhiyao. He just gazed vacantly at some unknown point. In his eyes, no matter where he looked, there was only emptiness.
Chapter Notes:
[1] Cereus is actually the scientific name for cactus. Not sure which one they are referring to here but it is a night blooming one. Which means that they mostly only bloom at night. Reference pic below: