Shen Yunjie licked his dry and painful lips, reaching out to catch some rainwater to drink. It was dark and raining outside. Dragging his broken leg, he wouldn’t be able to crawl far, and getting lost in the mass grave area would be even more trouble. He simply gave up on leaving the broken temple. At least this place could block the wind and rain. He would endure the night and decide what to do when it was light.
The dull pain in his abdomen returned. Shen Yunjie let out a muffled groan as he tightly gripped the shattered door frame. The rough wood scraped his pale fingertips, leaving streaks of red blood. After a wave of pain passed, Shen Yunjie reached out to press his chest, coughing until his mouth filled with a sweet, metallic taste. He braced himself against the doorframe, and as he turned his face, he saw Zhao Sheng staring at him with bulging eyes, his purplish face twisted and terrifying.
Shen Yunjie quickly turned his face away. He often heard the elderly say that a child will resemble the person they see most before birth. He absolutely could not look at the ghastly dead person beside him again.
He wondered if Xiao Yuan was still crying and if his Young Master was still angry. It was so late, they should be asleep by now. Shen Yunjie thought anxiously while hugging his belly. The rain intensified, and the pain in Shen Yunjie’s abdomen became more frequent. He barely caught a breath while enduring one wave before the next one followed. His rain-soaked body gradually became cold and weak.
Shen Yunjie leaned against the half-fallen door panel of the broken temple. His back was painfully chafed, and with every breath, his abdomen rose and fell, feeling heavy and sore. The child was not yet full-term and, having been startled, was trying to come out early. How can it be so quick? Shen Yunjie was hazy with pain, vaguely seeing two people approaching in the rain curtain. He stared steadily for a while, confirming he wasn’t seeing things.
It was raining outside, and the two people were running fast, clearly heading towards the entrance. Shen Yunjie clenched the dagger tightly, gritted his teeth, steadied himself, and painfully shifted to take cover behind the door. Just as he hid, he heard messy footsteps.
They were beggars who usually wandered nearby, seeking shelter from the rain. They were panting and cursing the cold rain for leaving people nowhere to hide. The first person to enter didn’t look down and was immediately tripped by Zhao Sheng’s corpse, howling as he took a hard fall. The person behind quickly went to help him, and as he crouched down, he came face-to-face with Zhao Sheng’s extremely tragic dead face and screamed, jumping up. The two of them only took a moment from entering to scrambling out.
Shen Yunjie listened to the footsteps fade away, finally letting out a sigh of relief. He slowly closed his eyes, pressing his tight, hard belly.
Xiao Ning opened the door in the dead of night. Xiao Yuan was already asleep in his arms, still hiccupping softly and weeping in his dream. Outside the door, the space was empty, with no one in sight.
“Shen Yunjie…”
Xiao Ning called out, but of course, no one answered. He looked down at the wet steps, frowning.
Xiao Yuan was carried to bed and covered with a quilt. Then Xiao Ning grabbed an umbrella and walked into the rain. He walked through one alley after another, finding them all empty. After walking through four or five alleys, Xiao Ning threw away the umbrella and started running in the rain.
Gone.
His Ah Yun was gone.
Old Zhou’s door was kicked open, and before he could even open his eyes, his neck tightened as someone grabbed his collar and pulled him up.
“Have you seen Ah Yun?”
Old Zhou pulled his collar away, rubbing his neck: “How could I have seen your wife at night? You’re talking nonsense.”
Xiao Ning’s face was pale and his eyes bloodshot. He was about to turn to leave, but Old Zhou grabbed his sleeve: “What’s going on? You’re not making sense.”
“Ah Yun is gone.” Xiao Ning’s face was terrifyingly pale.
Old Zhou was completely awake now, and was in confusion, “Why would he suddenly disappear?”
Xiao Ning glanced at him: “I kicked him out.”
Old Zhou looked bewildered while pointing outside the door: “Late at night? In the rain? By himself? Are you crazy?”
Xiao Ning stopped talking and turned to walk out. Old Zhou chasing and shouting as he followed, “How did he provoke you?”
Xiao Ning ignored him, flew onto the eaves, and with a few leaps, moved through the rain, frantically searching street after street. He didn’t see Shen Yunjie until the sky began to faintly lighten.
Old Zhou squatted by the roadside, panting. He had followed Xiao Ning all night, and it looked like they were about to dig three feet into the ground. He patted Xiao Ning’s shoulder and said, “Alright, it’s bright now. Let’s knock on the doors near your house one by one and ask. Maybe someone saw him last night.”
Xiao Ning was about to knock on a door silently, but Old Zhou stopped him again: “Don’t. Go rest for a bit, check on your Xiao Yuan. I’ll ask for you.” Xiao Ning’s face was deathly pale, he was soaked all over, and his eyes were full of red veins. He looked less like someone going to ask neighbors for information and more like someone going to seek revenge.
Hearing Old Zhou mention Xiao Yuan, Xiao Ning’s eyes finally held a hint of life. He nodded and headed back home first. Before reaching his front door, he saw Xiao Yuan curled up in a small ball, sitting by the door under the eaves.
“Xiao Yuan…” Xiao Ning’s voice was hoarse. He reached out and picked up the child, who was shivering from the cold on the steps.
Xiao Yuan’s eyes were red, and he whimpered like a kitten: “Did Father leave? Does he not want Xiao Yuan anymore?”
Xiao Ning’s chest ached with grief while his throat constricted with anguish. He pulled Xiao Yuan firmly into his arms, holding him close and murmured, “No, Father will come back soon. Be good, Xiao Yuan.”
