Brother, Brother, But I'm a Profligate! - Chapter 9

“Runaway Sweetheart, Go Home”

Dong Qing knelt on the floor, his face deathly pale, as the celadon tea tray lay shattered in pieces before him. “Eldest Young Master, forgive me! Ming Si did indeed come looking for the Eldest Young Master.”

Fu Jing glanced at him, his smile fading. “He came looking for me? Then why was I not informed?”

Dong Qing’s lips trembled as he stammered, “I heard people say that the Eldest Young Master does not like being disturbed at the Imperial Academy, so I”

Fu Jing’s hand, holding his tea, paused. Unlike the other guards, Dong Qing had come from his mother’s clan, the Zhang family, within the last two years. There were indeed things he did not know.

But Fu Jing did not like people taking initiative on his behalf.

“Did Ming Si not tell you why he was looking for me?”

Dong Qing bit his lip and shook his head.

At that moment, Li Xia entered with a travel-worn Qiu Yuan. Both knelt in greeting. Seeing Dong Qing on the floor, they rose silently and stood against the wall.

Behind Fu Jing’s back, Li Xia and Qiu Yuan exchanged a look. Qiu Yuan whispered, “What is going on? I just got back today, and the manor is already in such a state?”

Li Xia replied, “It is about the young master. You are the one familiar with him.”

Qiu Yuan, who only knew that Ming Si changed faces like a madman, had no idea how he was supposedly “familiar” with him. “…”

Fu Jing sipped his tea, asking a few questions in the manner of an interrogation that left Dong Qing drenched in sweat. Fu Jing toyed with his prayer beads. “Tell me exactly what happened that day.”

As Dong Qing struggled to organize his words, Fu Jing added, “If you hide anything, you can go back to your Zhang family.”

His face turning rigid, Dong Qing kowtowed repeatedly and recounted the events of that day in full detail.

In a narrow alley, drunkards lay scattered about, the ground reeking of vomit. There were no lamps here, only a full moon hanging from the bare branches of a tree.

A beggar carefully avoided the prone bodies and filth, walking slowly toward a ruined temple at the end of the alley. Other beggars had taken shelter there, huddled together.

“Newcomer?”

The little beggar kept his head down and gave two erratic nods.

“Tch.” Someone spat out a blade of grass and jerked their chin. “You look young. Lift your head and let us have a look.”

The little beggar lifted his face. It was Ming Si.

Ming Si looked at them with a calm gaze. These beggars were even more disheveled than he was, appearing to be in their thirties or forties.

The men froze when they saw his face: a high, delicate bridge of the nose, a pointed chin, and a full pout despite his downturned lips. His watery, cat-like eyes made him look both obedient and pitiful.

“Oho, quite a looker.” One man gestured at Ming Si with a leer, turning to the man beside him. “Could this be a girl?”

The man smiled strangely. Someone called out, “Hey, my brother is asking you. You are not a girl, are you?”

“Take off your clothes and let us men check you over, hahahaha!”

Ming Si did not want to stay in such a place unless absolutely necessary. But with the Fu family searching for him, he had to hide. He planned to blend in as a beggar, find a way out of the Capital, and then return to Chuzhou under a pseudonym.

Ming Si stood up to leave, but an old beggar stepped forward and grabbed him. “Do not go. Your brothers here will play with you for a while.”

Ming Si peeled the old man’s hand off him, inch by inch. The old beggar was startled by the strength in the boy’s grip.

As the other beggars began to close in, the old man broke into a cold sweat upon meeting Ming Si’s soulless, calm eyes. Just as he was about to stop his companions, Ming Si suddenly produced a brick and slammed it into a man’s face. Blood sprayed as the man’s nose broke.

Ming Si said, “We can all mind our own business and spend the night in peace. Otherwise, a few people will die. We are all drifting duckweed; it is no great matter if a few of us perish.”

That night, the other beggars fled the ruined temple.

When Ming Si woke the next day, he smeared more soot on his face. He picked up the stick and bowl left behind by the beggars and headed to the main street to gather information.

The Fu family had checked the restaurant where he had worked as an errand boy. Men were stationed nearby, and they had involved the local authorities. The scale of the search was immense.

Ming Si did not regret his actions. Those who insulted his mother deserved to die, and the Fu family deserved it even more.

After scouting the streets for half a day, he realized there were even more people looking for him today.

He cursed under his breath and continued to hide his identity.

The following days were surprisingly quiet. No one harassed him; in fact, he encountered many kind souls. Seeing a young, pitiful beggar, people offered him bowls of porridge or buns. Everything was going unexpectedly smoothly. Even the ruined temple felt safer.

No other beggars dared to approach. The taverns on that street were closed down, and even the drunkards had vanished.

It felt as though a pillow had been handed to him just as he was falling asleep. Ming Si was both surprised and suspicious. He feared his trail had been found, but then reasoned that if he had been caught, he would have been tied up and dragged to the Fu manor long ago, not left to wander the streets.

Soon, Ming Si had no time for suspicion. He found a merchant caravan and identified a hiding spot, learning they would leave the Capital the day after next.

On the night before his planned departure, visitors arrived at the temple.

A floorboard creaked beneath him, startling Ming Si from his sleep. Outside, the sky was just beginning to pale, with a few scattered stars remaining. People stood in the courtyard holding torches, their shadows dancing.

His heart thundered. Before he could even think, he heard footsteps approaching.

“Are you awake?”

Fu Jing entered, wearing a black robe that lent him an air of cold severity. Armed guards surged in behind him, their silhouettes turned monstrous by the flickering torchlight.

Li Xia followed Fu Jing, holding a torch, and signaled for men to bring a chair inside. The group filed in with great ceremony.

A bead of cold sweat rolled into Ming Si’s eye. He stared blankly at Fu Jing as the man sat down before him, remaining dazed for a long time.

How was he caught just one day before leaving?

Should he surrender? Or should he kneel and beg for mercy?

Ming Si’s gaze was vacant, looking as though he were still trapped in a dream. Fu Jing watched him without speaking. They sat in silence.

Finally, his legs grew numb, and Ming Si tentatively stood up. Seeing no reaction from Fu Jing, he crept along the wall like a cat. He reached the door, but seeing the ranks of guards outside, he paced back.

At that moment, Qiu Yuan arrived with a package of steaming hot shortening cakes wrapped in oil paper.

A guard placed a small table on the ground and set the cakes upon it. Another brought fresh water for Ming Si to wash.

Ming Si looked at what he assumed was his “last meal” and then at Fu Jing. Feeling a surge of suppressed anger, he splashed his hands clean, grabbed a cake without caring for the heat, and began stuffing it into his mouth.

Fu Jing watched his movements. Ming Si ate with frantic speed, practically forcing the food down. He was eating so fast that Fu Jing would not have been surprised if he choked to death the next second.

Fu Jing asked, “Did you not buy porridge?”

Qiu Yuan replied ruefully, “The porridge at the shop was not ready yet. I will have someone bring water first.”

Ming Si suddenly retched, followed by a heavy sob. His neck and the tips of his ears flushed a deep red. Fu Jing frowned and moved closer, patting Ming Si twice on the back.

Ming Si kept his head down, his shoulders shaking violently. After a few seconds, Fu Jing reached down and gripped Ming Si’s chin, forcing his face up.

Ming Si’s eyelashes were wet, and his chest heaved. He met Fu Jing’s gaze and gave up all pretense. “Just kill me. I do not want to live anymore.”

Fu Jing watched him for several heartbeats. The raw grief in those bright black eyes stirred something strange within him. Fu Jing turned to his men and said, “Bring a basin of water and a handkerchief.”

Ming Si struck Fu Jing’s hand away and kicked over the small table. “Since you have caught me, kill me now!”

It felt as though a dam had burst. Ming Si breathed sharply, his limbs numb. He laughed and cried at once; he was gasping for air, yet his chest felt bound by iron chains, denying him the right to breathe.

He thought he had truly failed his mother; he could not avenge her now.

Ming Si craned his neck and glared, his eyes wide and rimmed with red, looking stubborn and defiant. Yet, the tears fell from his eyes like pearls on a silver thread.

Just as Ming Si’s neck began to ache, a warm, soft handkerchief was placed over his face.

Ming Si froze as if a sealing charm had been placed on him. He became instantly quiet. A hand pressed the cloth over his eyes, while Fu Jing’s voice addressed the others: “All of you, get out.”

Ming Si’s shoulders continued to twitch. The heat from the damp cloth steamed his eyes, soothing the ache.

Fu Jing waited until the boy took the handkerchief himself, then slowly sat back in his chair, leaning his head on his hand to look at the compassionate Buddha statue in the ruined temple.

Ming Si covered his face for a long time. When he finally removed his hand, only a faint redness remained at the corners of his eyes. It was hard to tell he had cried.

He had calmed down; the outburst had lightened the weight in his heart.

Fu Jing turned his head and saw Ming Si peeking at him.

Ming Si twitched his nose and asked in a muffled voice, “Are you here to take me back to the Fu family?”

Ming Si studied his face and quickly corrected himself: “No. Then, you are here to help me leave?”

Fu Jing: “…”

Ming Si’s curiosity was piqued; his emotions came and went like the wind. In a flash, he was grinning again. “Oh, my Eldest Young Master, is that it? You are helping an outsider against your own family?”

Fu Jing called out to Qiu Yuan. Qiu Yuan entered, bowed to Fu Jing, and then spoke to Ming Si: “Young Master, there is news regarding your mother.”

Ming Si’s smile vanished. He stared intently at Qiu Yuan, not missing the flicker of hesitation on the guard’s face.

“Madam Ming Suye was not killed by the bandits in that area. During that period, no bandits left the stronghold. Our secret guards searched the camp and found nothing belonging to your mother.”

“What if they hid it? Do we just take their word for it? What if someone snuck out to rob her?”

“The bandit chief was getting married then. All the nearby bandits went to celebrate. The stronghold was busy with the festivities and had no time to descend the mountain. We have checked everything. Furthermore, to kill a dozen people at once requires a significant number of men. It could not have been the work of a few bandits sneaking out.”

Ming Si blinked slowly, looking at Qiu Yuan in a daze.

Fu Jing spoke: “I only came to tell you this news. The agreement we made before coming to the Capital still stands. I will not withdraw the guards; they will search until she is found.”

Ming Si picked at his fingers. “What do you gain from this?”

“Is this not what I promised you?” Fu Jing’s tone was peaceful. “Once you reached the Capital, whether you stayed or left had nothing to do with me. It was my father who insisted on keeping you. If you want to leave, leave today. I will have someone see you through the city gates.”

Fu Jing reminded him, “A carriage is already waiting for you outside.”

Ming Si remained silent for a moment, then let out a cynical laugh. “Listen to you. What choice do I have? It would be a miracle if I stayed and survived.”

Ming Si found the question ridiculous. What choice did he really have?

Fu Jing replied, “You have committed no crime. Why would you not survive?”

“I have committed no crime?” Ming Si laughed aloud, but seeing Fu Jing’s serious expression, his laughter gradually died away.

The guards brought Ming Si a change of clothes. Once he was ready, the man with the scar on his forehead waited for him by the carriage.

Li Xia smiled. “Young Master, there are snacks in the carriage, and ten taels of silver under the seat. I wish the young master a smooth journey and a bright future.”

The carriage curtain was already lifted. With one foot on the step, Ming Si could smell the incense and see the soft cushions on the seat.

Li Xia waited for him to board, but Ming Si stood frozen, staring inside.

Just as Li Xia was about to ask what was wrong, Ming Si lowered his hand, stepped back, and turned to run. The hem of his robe flapped with his hurried movements.

Fu Jing was still sitting in the chair, the dilapidated but towering Buddha statue behind him appearing like his own shadow.

Ming Si ran back through the alley to the door and looked at the man. He did not know if he was doing the right thing, but he instinctively asked, “What did you mean by the choice you gave me? You are letting me go, but what about my prayer beads?”

Fu Jing thought of the beads left behind at the Fu manor.

“…”

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