Feudal Dregs - Chapter 10

Emerging into the midday sun, Lan Yu felt its warmth seep into his skin like a return to the living world. Hurrying after Li Mingzheng, his shaking fingers fumbled with the traditional jacket's knotted buttons—still rattled, it took several attempts to fasten them properly.

Abruptly, Li Mingzheng halted. Lan Yu nearly collided with him, but the older man sidestepped with a frown.

Pressing his lips together, Lan Yu murmured: "Thank you for your intervention, First Young Master."

"Unnecessary," came the reply.

Lan Yu's face bore the marks of violence—one cheek flushed scarlet, stinging with lingering pain, his split lip smeared with blood, the very picture of delicate distress. As Li Mingzheng turned to leave again, Lan Yu called out: "First Young Master!"

Yet having spoken, words failed him. Fear and fury churned within—outrage at Li Yuqing's brazen violation, yet powerless to retaliate. Lan Yu had considered appearing before Old Master Li in this disheveled state to weep his grievances, but Li Yuqing remained the favored second son. How deep that favor ran, Lan Yu couldn't gauge. Any punishment would likely be nominal, and knowing Li Yuqing's temperament, would only invite worse retribution.

To those with ill intentions, it might even be said that he deliberately seduced Li Yuqing, inviting unwarranted criticism.

After all, he came from a disreputable background, and many in the Li family wished him dead.

Li Mingzheng looked at Lan Yu's reddened eyes, noting his hesitation, and said impassively, "Go back."

Lan Yu lifted his gaze to Li Mingzheng and gave a bitter smile. "How can I go back like this?"

Li Mingzheng's eyes lingered on the slap mark on his cheek and the bruises on his neck before replying indifferently, "Stay away from Second Young Master from now on."

Tears welled up in Lan Yu's eyes and slipped down in an instant. He turned his face away, wiping the tears roughly, his voice laced with resentment and mockery. "Does the Eldest Young Master not know his own brother's temperament?"

Li Mingzheng neither confirmed nor denied it. "Then what do you want?"

Lan Yu fell silent, as if even he was uncertain. After a pause, he whispered, "I beg the Eldest Young Master to help me."

Li Mingzheng said, "Why should I help you?"

Lan Yu met his gaze. "The Li family is a prominent clan in Beijing. If word gets out that a young master tried to force himself on a concubine, the entire city would laugh at you. As the eldest son of the Li family, can you really stand by and do nothing?"

Li Mingzheng studied him. "Are you threatening me?"

Lan Yu's eyes were still red. "I wouldn't dare... Lan Yu just wants to live."

Li Mingzheng said, "I can't save you."

His tone was flat, as if stating the most ordinary fact—cold and detached. With that, Li Mingzheng turned and walked away.

Watching his retreating figure, Lan Yu's expression of vulnerability and despair vanished completely. His gaze shifted to the stone well in the courtyard, and he walked toward it.

A bucket of water, likely drawn by some young monk, sat beside the well, cool to the touch. He scooped a handful and splashed it on his face. The water was icy, and the chill seeped silently into his skin, burrowing deep into his heart.

The mountain temple was lush with greenery, alive with the incessant chirping of cicadas. Lan Yu scooped two more handfuls of water onto his face before plunging his entire head into the bucket.

When he lifted it again, his hair clung wetly to his cheeks, his eyelashes soaked. Crystal droplets rolled down his face, his features as pure and cold as a lotus emerging from clear water.

With his injuries, Lan Yu couldn't return just yet, so he sat beneath the corridor.

As for Li Mingzheng's claim that the old master had summoned him, Lan Yu couldn't be bothered. If he was truly called for and couldn't be found, someone would come looking eventually. The Li family wouldn't collapse without him.

If it truly couldn't survive without him—Lan Yu's heart turned icy—he'd throw himself into the well right then and there. Somehow, on this noisy yet silent afternoon, Lan Yu found himself thinking of his long-deceased mother for the first time in years.

His mother had contracted syphilis when he was ten and suffered for two years before dying in anguish. He remembered how she looked in death—emaciated, not yet thirty, with streaks of white in her hair. Her bony fingers clutched his as she gasped, "Yu'er..."

"What will become of you when I'm gone?" Tears spilled from her sunken eyes, filled with reluctance. Kneeling on the bed, Lan Yu stroked her dry, tangled hair until her last breath, her eyes still wide open.

It had been a long time since Lan Yu had thought of her.

He sat alone in the courtyard for a long time. As dusk approached, rain suddenly began to fall—a misty downpour that enveloped the undulating mountain ranges.

When Lan Yu returned to Old Master Li's meditation room, he found the doors and windows open. The old man sat in his wheelchair, eyes closed in quiet repose, a string of agarwood prayer beads clutched in his hand.

Lan Yu observed him. Though past fifty, traces of youthful charm still lingered in Old Master Li's featurs—no wonder all three Li sons, despite their vastly different temperaments, had inherited such striking looks.

Outside, dark clouds gathered as mountain winds hurled raindrops like beans against the windows with sharp cracks. Suddenly, a thunderclap exploded. Old Master Li opened his eyes and looked at Lan Yu. "You're back?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, Lan Yu murmured an affirmation while moving to close the windows. "With such heavy rain, why didn't you have the servants shut these?"

"I was waiting for you," the old man replied.

Lan Yu paused in surprise. Old Master Li smiled faintly. "Come here."

Only after securing the windows against the storm did Lan Yu approach. The old man took his hand, slowly wiping away the rainwater. "Where did you go this afternoon? You'd disappeared when I woke from my nap."

Lan Yu playfully scratched the old man's palm before idly toying with the jade thumb ring. "Since we rarely visit the temple, I went to pray for your health before the Guanyin lotus throne in the main hall."

"You're always the most thoughtful," Old Master Li sighed, pulling Lan Yu onto his lap. A soft protest escaped Lan Yu's lips as he tried to rise, but the old man tightened his grip around the slender waist. "Stay still. Let me hold you awhile."

"I'll crush you," Lan Yu fretted.

"Before my legs failed me, lifting my little bodhisattva was no challenge," the old man said, a thread of melancholy woven through his words. The unlit room grew dimmer as rain pattered outside. Lan Yu traced the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes with tender fingers. "Lan Yu," the old man murmured, "I had a dream during my nap today."

"What did you dream of?"

Long silence stretched before Old Master Li spoke again. "Of my three sons—the second a dissolute scoundrel, the third young and reckless. Only the eldest shows promise."

"I grow old. This failing body warns my time nears. When I'm gone, I fear the Li family will fracture."

"You're still young," Lan Yu protested.

The old man chuckled. "Such words may comfort others, but not oneself."

"These turbulent times reshape Peking daily," he continued with a heavy sigh. "If my second and third sons' recklessness brings disaster upon our house... how could I face our ancestors?"

Lan Yu looked at the man before him, and a sudden thought arose in his heart—Old Master Li had grown old.

When a man grows old, he loses all his sharpness, becoming hesitant and burdened with endless worries. The vast Li family was like a ship, and Old Master Li had once been its helmsman, steady and unshaken no matter how fierce the storms. But now, age had weakened his grip on the rudder, and he no longer had the courage to brave the winds and waves.

Lan Yu toyed with the jade thumb ring on his finger and said, "The Third Young Master is just a student—what trouble could he possibly stir up? In the end, it's still whatever you say that goes."

Old Master Li pondered for a moment before murmuring, "The second son..."

Lan Yu fell silent. Old Master Li grasped his slender fingers and asked, "Do you like it?"

Lan Yu glanced at him. The old man had already slipped the jade ring onto his thumb, examining it before smiling. "It suits you. Matches your complexion perfectly."

Only then did he snap out of his thoughts and notice the red mark on Lan Yu's cheek. Frowning, he pinched Lan Yu's chin and asked, "Lan Yu, what happened to your face?"

As he reached out to touch it, Lan Yu hissed softly, "It hurts... Don't look. It's hideous."

Old Master Li's brows furrowed deeper. Lan Yu's fair skin made the mark stand out starkly. "What happened?"

Lan Yu replied, "Some mad dog appeared out of nowhere at the temple, biting anyone it saw. I tried to dodge but wasn't careful enough— ended up tripping and hitting the threshold."

Old Master Li frowned. "How could there be a mad dog in the temple?"

Lan Yu scoffed lightly. "Who knows? Maybe some worshipper brought it and didn't leash it properly."

"Let me see where else you're hurt," Old Master Li insisted.

"Nowhere else, just my face. At least it didn't scar," Lan Yu said.

"What happened to the dog?"

Without blinking, Lan Yu answered, "It ran off."

Old Master Li patted Lan Yu's hand reassuringly. "As long as you're alright. Tomorrow, I'll have someone go down the mountain to buy ointment for you to rub on it."

Lan Yu smiled in agreement.

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