LMMY chapter 133-2

The days at the orphanage were monotonous and boring. Day after day, some children were taken away while new ones were brought in. The cycle continued, with some going from being bullied to bullying others.

Li Xuan never participated in these activities. He rarely spoke to the other kids, always sitting alone, and the only person who was somewhat close to him was Zhao Jizhe, who often clung to him.

They grew up in such an environment, until the time came to go to school.

Li Xuan’s intelligence began to fully show. He always ranked first in every exam. The teachers at school praised him as a promising student, and many families looking to adopt heard of this “genius” at the orphanage and were willing to take him in.

But Li Xuan always refused.

On the other hand, Zhao Jizhe, who longed for a family to accept him and to have relatives who would love and protect him, hoping to no longer be mocked by his classmates as a wild child, perhaps due to bad luck, never got his wish.

“Why don’t you go?” he asked Li Xuan.

“I have parents,” Li Xuan said coldly, “I don’t need others to be my parents.”

In truth, Zhao Jizhe didn’t want Li Xuan to leave. He was the closest person to him in the orphanage.

“Nineteen, then let’s be family to each other,” he said to Li Xuan. “I’ll be the older brother, and you’ll be the younger brother.”

Li Xuan didn’t respond, nor did he refuse. So, Zhao Jizhe took it as an agreement.

If things had stayed like this, perhaps it would have been fine, Zhao Jizhe often thought later.

Nineteen is so capable; he could definitely get into a good university. If he couldn’t continue his studies, he could learn a skill. Once they were able to support themselves, they could leave the orphanage.

But they would still be together, always keeping in touch, because they were brothers, each other’s only family…

But fantasies are just illusions, fleeting and fragile, and they came to an abrupt end when Zhao Jizhe was twelve years old—the orphanage got a new director.

Unlike the former harsh and sharp-tongued female director, this one was a very gentle old man with white hair, refined manners, and a courteous demeanor.

At first, no one noticed anything strange. From the staff to the children at the orphanage, everyone welcomed the new director’s arrival.

He never scolded anyone, didn’t cut the staff’s bonuses, worked diligently, and even stayed at the orphanage, not going home. Unlike some of the male staff members from before, who would sometimes make inappropriate advances towards the girls, he always maintained a proper distance. It was said he used to be a bureau chief in some organization and had retired. Feeling restless at home, he applied to return to work, and was assigned to the orphanage…

Everything seemed fine until one day when Zhao Jizhe had stomach pain, skipped dinner, and returned to the dormitory early.

As he passed the corridor, he heard sounds coming from one of the rooms. He instinctively looked inside. The lights were off, but through the gap in the curtains, he could faintly make out a figure.

He remembered that at this time, everyone else should still be in the cafeteria—except for Li Xuan. He had skipped two grades at the age of ten and was already in sixth grade, preparing for a city-wide math competition where the winner would be guaranteed admission to a top middle school.

Their elementary school hadn’t had a student who passed into the city’s top middle school for a long time, so it was quite significant. The orphanage had even made special arrangements. Every day after school, Li Xuan stayed behind to finish extra exercises before returning to the orphanage. Then he would sit by the fence in the grass, reading under the light from the streetlamp.

Thinking it might be Li Xuan returning early, Zhao Jizhe, pleased, approached the window to see who it was…

But what he saw shocked him. The kind and approachable director was lying on one of the boys’ beds, panting heavily. Even the dim light couldn’t hide his wrinkles and disgusting demeanor. One hand was grabbing a piece of clothing, greedily sniffing it, while the other hand kept moving…

The children at the orphanage were precocious and cheeky. By the age of twelve, they already understood many things.

Zhao Jizhe didn’t remember how he left. He hid in the corner of the backyard for a long time, only returning to the dormitory after it was completely dark and everyone else had gone back.

Zhao Jizhe wanted to forget what he had seen that day, but in the following days, he couldn’t help but pay attention.

He noticed the director’s gaze always lingered on the boys. Under the guise of concern, he would intentionally or unintentionally touch their faces, waists, and shoulders… Even when they were taking a bath, he would pass by multiple times…

What once seemed normal now had a sinister meaning. A few times, Zhao Jizhe quickly turned his gaze away, only to find other children’s curious stares. Then he realized, he wasn’t the only one who had noticed.

But no one spoke, no one dared to… In that place, the director had the power to decide everything. He became more and more extreme and explicit, but all the children at the orphanage could do was silently pray that misfortune would not fall on them.

The first victim was a disabled child, a mute boy… One day, he returned very late, limping, and a few pieces of candy fell from his pocket. But he didn’t pick them up. He quietly lay on his bed, covering his face with the blanket.

The mute boy, with damaged vocal cords, couldn’t cry out. Only his body trembled beneath the blanket.

No one said anything. Zhao Jizhe was terrified. He wanted to find some comfort by getting closer to Li Xuan but remembered Li Xuan was still outside reading and hadn’t returned.

In a twist of fate, the boy was lucky. Not long after, a family came to adopt him. The woman of that family was also mute, and they took the poor boy away.

One child was freed from suffering, but the rest of them began to fear even more… The director chose the mute boy because he was too shy at first. A person who couldn’t speak was easier to control… Now that he had tasted the sweetness of power, his desires grew, and the next victim was yet to be determined.

For those children who were unaware, life might have been a little easier, but those who knew the truth, were like lambs waiting to be slaughtered. They couldn’t do anything but watch the director’s disgusting gaze in fear, wondering who it would linger on next…

A week later, on an evening before the sun had set, Zhao Jizhe trembled as he nervously walked into the director’s office.

The memories abruptly stopped here. Zhao Jizhe looked at Sheng Min and sneered disdainfully, “I’ve known about the disgusting things between men for a long time… But do you know why it was me?”

He paused maliciously, lowered his voice, and shared a long-buried secret: “I wasn’t the most beautiful child in that orphanage.”

Like a cold, venomous snake with its tongue flicking, his gaze and tone were scrutinizing as he observed Sheng Min’s every expression.

Then Zhao Jizhe licked his lips and smiled, his shoulders trembling, the chair shaking beneath him as the screeching sound of friction against the floor made Sheng Min’s scalp tingle. Zhao Jizhe suddenly stood up, his expression wild: “I volunteered! I volunteered to take his place! A pretty but stubborn little brat, or a submissive dog who walks in the door on its own, which one would you choose?!”

The first time Zhao Jizhe caught the director with that piece of clothing, it had belonged to Li Xuan. His filthy gaze often lingered on Li Xuan… After the mute boy left, the director’s actions grew more frequent. Zhao Jizhe worried and feared, but he couldn’t warn Li Xuan.

At that time, Li Xuan was only ten years old and seldom interacted with the older kids who made crude jokes about the girls next door. His intelligence didn’t fall into those vile places…

His thoughts were entirely focused on the upcoming exam. He left early and returned late, too preoccupied to notice what was quietly happening around him.

Only Zhao Jizhe lived in constant fear. He followed Li Xuan at every moment in the orphanage. But what could he do? Everyone was like fish on a chopping block, powerless… Only praying that the blade would fall slowly…

Finally, one day, he overheard the director telling the aunt not to let Li Xuan stay at school too late. No matter how important the competition was, the orphanage needed to maintain order…

Zhao Jizhe heard the sound of knives sharpening.

He couldn’t figure out how one fish could save another, so he took the place of the fish and dove into the net.

Ropes, toys, pain, the disgusting, rotten smell of the old man’s body, his wrinkled hands… The more he suffered and cried, the happier the director’s face, filled with age spots, seemed to smile…

What was strange, though, was that the director never truly penetrated him; at the time, Zhao Jizhe didn’t understand. Later, he realized it wasn’t because the director still had some conscience, but because he was simply too old.

But when it comes to torturing someone, there are too many ways… Zhao Jizhe grew increasingly terrified of the night. His wounds hadn’t healed, and he didn’t know what would be forced into him next.

The only thing to be thankful for was that, by taking the firepit for Li Xuan, the director’s attention was temporarily diverted. Li Xuan wasn’t called back from school, and soon the competition was completed successfully.

Naturally, Li Xuan scored full marks and won first place. Besides securing a spot in the city’s prestigious school, the school gave him a small cash prize and a little cream cake.

That day, Li Xuan returned early from school. He split the cake into two pieces, hiding one in the grass behind the back door, planning to give the other half to Zhao Jizhe.

The county’s middle school didn’t have evening classes, so they finished just a little later than the elementary school. However, by the time other children had already returned, Zhao Jizhe was still nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Zhao Jizhe?”

After waiting for a long time, Li Xuan asked others. They were afraid and refused to tell him.

Finally, a girl couldn’t bear it any longer: “Don’t look for him, he’s with the director…”

Li Xuan burst into the office, punching the director in the nose, and dragged Zhao Jizhe out.

They ran, passing garbage heaps and stinky ditches… Li Xuan silently applied the medicine he bought with the prize money to Zhao Jizhe’s wounds.

“How long has it been?” Li Xuan asked.

Zhao Jizhe didn’t answer.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He still couldn’t respond.

“We’ll call the police.” Finally, Li Xuan said.

Zhao Jizhe was too afraid to call the police. He remembered that many years ago, a child from the orphanage had died because of excessive corporal punishment. The police had come, but in the end, nothing came of it.

It was useless, he thought. Orphanage children were as cheap as wild grass, who would care?

But Li Xuan insisted.

So they went to the nearest police station. Two hours later, the director, his nose taped up, hurried over to take them back.

“Children don’t understand. After being scolded a little, they call the police, causing trouble for everyone.”

The young male officer who answered the call tried to stop him, protecting the two children with a nervous expression. “This hasn’t been investigated properly. You can’t just take the children back like this. They need to see a doctor.”

“Go back to your post,” the director’s superior shouted at the officer. He then turned to the director with an overly respectful tone. “You even came in person. You’re so good to these kids. You can take them back. Our deputy director said you’re their mentor, so whatever happens to you is like our own business… These ungrateful little wolves are hard to raise.”

They were taken back. Perhaps Li Xuan’s punch had ruined the director’s mood, so instead of doing the disgusting things, he beat them brutally and threw them into the dark confinement room.

Two dry buns and cold water kept them alive for a week. Just as Li Xuan was on the verge of death, he was finally taken out.

Of course, it wasn’t out of kindness. The county’s education bureau was preparing its year-end summary, and they had arranged for TV reporters to interview the student who scored full marks in the competition.

However, after the interview, once the reporters left, Li Xuan was locked up again.

“Li Xuan, do you think we’ll die here?” Zhao Jizhe looked at him as he was locked back in. The door slowly closed. Desperately, he said, “I’ll go apologize, I’ll go apologize to the director…”

“No!” Li Xuan grabbed him. “Are you crazy?”

“What should we do then! I don’t want to die!”

In the darkness, they faced each other for a long time. Finally, Zhao Jizhe heard Li Xuan say, “Let’s escape… I’ll take you out of here.”

Escape.. Zhao Jizhe didn’t know how to.

Could they escape from the confinement room? So many people were watching. Could they get out of the orphanage? And if they did—where would they even go?

“The day after tomorrow, they’ll let me out again,” Li Xuan’s voice was soft but firm. “I have to go to the county education bureau to receive an award as the student representative… The day after tomorrow, we’ll leave.”

Early that morning, Li Xuan was indeed released. The award ceremony was supposed to end before noon, but by the afternoon, he still hadn’t returned. Through the walls, Zhao Jizhe heard a few staffs talking, saying they needed to hurry and find him.

Zhao Jizhe was terrified. Had Nineteen abandoned him? Cold and hungry, he drifted in and out of sleep in panic and fear until he was jolted awake by loud commotion.

“Fire! Fire! Put out the fire!”

He stumbled to the door in alarm. Peering through the small food slot, he saw flames rising from the direction of the office across the courtyard.

Amidst the chaos of people shouting and women screaming in panic, he suddenly heard the faint scrape of metal against metal at the door.

A moment later, the door was pulled open. Li Xuan stood outside, eerily calm. “Let’s go.”

Everyone was busy fighting the fire. The small orphanage was filled with hurried footsteps, and in the distance, faint sirens of fire trucks could be heard.

No one noticed them as they ran through the back courtyard. Only then did Zhao Jizhe realize that the most intense flames were coming from the director’s residence—the fire had started there and spread to the office area.

Among the orphanage staff trying to control the fire, there was no sign of the director.

“You set the fire?” he asked, his teeth chattering.

On the overgrown playground, the firelight flickered across Li Xuan’s face. His thin black coat billowed in the wind, and at that moment, he seemed to have grown up overnight—nothing like a ten-year-old child. He stared coldly at the flames licking the walls. “He deserved to die.”

Zhao Jizhe’s mind went blank. The next second, he charged straight into the fire.

You think I don’t want him dead?! I’d peel his skin off if I could!” Zhao Jizhe’s voice cracked with emotion. His sleeve slipped down, revealing the scars snaking across his arm. “But I can’t… I can’t let you bear the crime of murder at such a young age, Nineteen…”

By some stroke of luck, he found the director unconscious by the door, choked by smoke, his body burned beyond recognition. Having made no effort to protect himself, Zhao Jizhe’s arms were also badly burned.

Just as he dragged the man into the hallway, Li Xuan rushed in, a wet blanket thrown over his shoulders. Without warning, he slapped Zhao Jizhe hard across the face. Before Zhao Jizhe could react, Li Xuan grabbed him and pulled him away.

Afterward, Li Xuan took advantage of the chaos to escape the orphanage with Zhao Jizhe. They stowed away in the back of a truck, bumping along the road for years, never returning.

“October 17th,” Zhao Jizhe said, enunciating each word. “If you don’t believe me, check the old newspapers. You’ll find the arson case at the orphanage… Now tell me, do you still think you understand him? Do you know he’s a murderer, an arsonist, a lunatic?”

He hoped to see fear or apprehension on Sheng Min’s face, but there was none. Though at that moment, Sheng Min was indeed thinking about Li Xuan.

He remembered the day, not long after they had met, when Li Xuan learned about his sexual orientation. That day, Li Xuan had told him about a friend—someone who had suffered sexual abuse from another man. That event had changed the entire course of their lives.

Sheng Min tried to recall Li Xuan’s expression and tone when he said those words, but no matter how hard he thought, he couldn’t remember.

All he could recall was that Li Xuan, noticing his low spirits, had apologized to him, saying, “Liking men isn’t your fault. That’s not a sin.”

What had he been feeling then?

Sheng Min’s prolonged silence infuriated Zhao Jizhe. His voice rose as he pointed at Sheng Min, shouting, “You don’t know what kind of person he is at all! You only see his success now, but did you ever see him when he was struggling in the gutter? No! Only I know! Only I stayed with him! I am his only family! Everything I did was for him—I lost my dignity for him, I went to prison for him!”

His screams turned into sobs, sudden and overwhelming. “I went to prison, and Nineteen said he despised me… But I did it for him! I knew he wanted to learn programming. He stared at that one-page advertisement for a programming class over and over again. We had no money, but… The things they made me deliver—I knew there were drugs hidden inside. Did you think I didn’t know? I just… I just wanted to take a gamble. If I had money, I could send Nineteen to that class…”

His sobs were ugly, snot and tears running down his face. Filled with pain, he curled up on the floor. “I did it willingly. I am his brother. Everything I’ve done for Nineteen, I did with my whole heart. If someone must grow into a towering tree, then someone else has to be the dirt beneath their feet. I was willing… But why? Why did he grow strong only to kick me aside? He shouldn’t have… What did I do wrong…?”

His cries echoed in the cramped visiting room. Sheng Min finally pieced together the last missing piece of this tragic story, but he felt no satisfaction.

“I was so good to him…” Zhao Jizhe whimpered.

Was he? Was he really?

Sheng Min believed everything he said was true. But in each moment, was there really only one path forward?

He sat there, dazed, feeling as if a gaping hole had been torn through his chest.

The wind howled through it, bitterly cold.

Li Xuan had already won first place in the competition. He had been on the verge of leaving the orphanage.

He was so smart and so hardworking. Once he made it to the city, he would have found new opportunities. He could have finished his studies, gone to university, pursued the career he wanted.

He wouldn’t have had to endure the bloodstained life in the alleys of Qingshui, wouldn’t have needed needles and scalpels cutting into his frail, pale body. He wouldn’t have had to abandon his own name just to survive—just to become the unshakable person he was today.

So close. Just a little closer.

One step away, and everything had changed.

Sheng Min lowered his gaze to the man sobbing at his feet.

At every turn, Zhao Jizhe had made choices he thought were noble, but in reality, they were catastrophic. And in the end, he justified it all with a single sentence:

“I did it for him.”

And with that, he had left Li Xuan to bear all the consequences alone.

Did he want Li Xuan to be a tree, or did he want him to rot in the mud with him?

Did Li Xuan know about Zhao Jizhe’s so-called sacrifices for him? Did he acknowledge them?

Perhaps knowing or acknowledging didn’t even matter that much.

Without his knowledge, he had been burdened with a heap of so-called kindness…

And then, he was expected to repay it.

Li Xuan could have refused. He should have refused. What he received was never what he needed or wanted.

Yet, he still accepted everything—the unfairness of fate.

He brushed it off lightly, saying he didn’t want to be blamed, didn’t want to owe anyone anything.

But he never owed anyone to begin with.

Sheng Min struggled to maintain his crumbling composure, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

“I treated him like my own brother, but he wants to throw me away…” Zhao Jizhe kept repeating. “He doesn’t want to care about me. He’s abandoned me…”

Sheng Min looked at him with sympathy, unable to find the right words. He couldn’t question him, couldn’t blame him. He had no right to, nor could he bring himself to.

Not even for Li Xuan.

The one who did evil was already dead, but the pain continued. Victims shouldn’t tear each other’s wounds open.

Besides, they had all been too young back then.

“Did you ask to see me just to tell me this?” Sheng Min asked softly.

“You can’t compare to me. I’m the one who treats him best,” Zhao Jizhe said again.

“There’s nothing for us to compete over.”

Sheng Min remained calm. Zhao Jizhe wanted to boast, to provoke him, but he wasn’t moved. Slowly, he crouched down and handed Zhao Jizhe a tissue. “Here, wipe your face.”

“Stop pretending to be kind!” Zhao Jizhe slapped it away. “Of course, I wanted to see you! I wanted to see exactly what kind of person you are! Ever since I found out you existed… I’ve followed you many times… I didn’t just want to see you—”

He lowered his voice. “I wanted to kill you.”

“Is that so?” Sheng Min knew he meant it, but his lashes didn’t even tremble. “Then why didn’t you?”

Why, why…

Zhao Jizhe remembered a certain night when he secretly followed them. Across the street, the sky was darkening, and under the cover of dusk, they held hands—fearless.

At some point, Sheng Min said something, and Li Xuan laughed.

Right under a streetlamp, the light cast a glow on Li Xuan’s face, making his expression incomparably gentle. Zhao Jizhe had never thought those two words—gentle and Li Xuan—could ever be associated.

At that moment, Zhao Jizhe had been very close, but Li Xuan, someone always so alert, hadn’t noticed.

Because he was too at ease, his whole heart and soul focused entirely on Sheng Min, unable to see anything else.

Why didn’t he kill Sheng Min? Zhao Jizhe asked himself.

He was afraid.

He knew Li Xuan would never forgive him.

He dared to go after his company, but he didn’t dare touch Sheng Min—not even after swearing that they wouldn’t last long.

The depth of his insecurity was something only he knew.

“Are you proud of yourself?” he spat, gritting his teeth. “Are you pitying me? I don’t need it! …Tell Nineteen for me—”

“There’s nothing to say. I won’t pass on any messages.”

Sheng Min knew there was no reason to stay any longer. He stood up. “And you don’t have to keep getting into fights or hurting yourself. He won’t come to see you because of it… He doesn’t want to see people die. But you all can’t keep using that to threaten him.”

Threaten him?

Zhao Jizhe looked up at Sheng Min’s face, so close yet so out of reach. His features were as delicate as pearls and jade, making everything around him seem dull in comparison.

He couldn’t understand.

Was Li Xuan really bewitched by this face?

“What gives you the right?” As Sheng Min reached the door, Zhao Jizhe couldn’t help but shout, “Yes, I threatened him! I dragged him down! He doesn’t acknowledge me as his brother, doesn’t acknowledge our bond—then what about you? How long have you even known him? What’s so good about you? What makes you worthy of him?!”

Sheng Min turned his head slightly.

The sunset poured through the window, casting playful shadows over the green plants. Every vein on every leaf bore the imprint of time.

He had once been jealous—jealous of Zhao Jizhe, jealous of everyone who had entered Li Xuan’s life before him.

Even though he knew what he had was something no one else could ever have.

But now, he no longer felt that way.

Some friendships last a lifetime, while some deep connections form in an instant.

Time was the most irreversible yet insignificant thing in the world.

No matter when they met, his love for Li Xuan could never be greater than it was now.

“Whether I’m good enough doesn’t matter,” Sheng Min murmured, not as an answer to anyone, but as a reminder to himself. “As long as Li Xuan needs me by his side, I am the only one in this world worthy of him.”