Everyone Regrets It After My Death - Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Nursery Rhyme

The lights flickered out one by one until Su Mingran was the only soul left in the office.

The cleaning lady, seeing his pitiful state before she left, let out a deep sigh. She wanted to help, but she remembered the management’s stern warnings. She needed this job; if she helped him and was caught, she’d be fired. She quietly placed some wound ointment near him, left the door unlocked, and clocked out.

The vast company was now completely empty.

Su Mingran remained unconscious. His head throbbed with a rhythmic agony, making him want to sink forever into a dream rather than face reality.

In his dream, he was back in that pitch-black room. Outside, the man who had kidnapped them was yelling in a drunken stupor. The man was loud and violent when he drank, often snatching one of the children or Sister Xiaoling to vent his rage.

The other children in the room had been jolted awake by the noise. They huddled together, heads buried in their knees, trembling as they waited to see who the man would choose as his punching bag.

Little Mingran was terrified. He curled into a ball, fearing for himself and even more for Sister Xiaoling. For the other children, the man offered blows; for Xiaoling, it was worse. He would tear her clothes and pin her to the floor. At first, she would sob and beg him to be gentle, but eventually, she stopped struggling, letting him do as he pleased.

The man’s heavy footsteps paced the yard before he finally dragged Xiaoling out of the room. Her screams and pleas eventually faded into the sound of the man’s heavy breathing.

Little Mingran clenched his fists, tears rolling down his cheeks. He hated himself for being unable to do anything. He didn’t even dare to speak up, knowing that if he did, the man would only become more violent toward her. He covered his ears, loathing his own powerlessness.

Xuanxuan, who was younger, only vaguely understood that the man was doing something “bad.” Seeing Mingran cry, he grew flustered.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered.

Mingran frantically covered Xuanxuan’s mouth. “Don’t make a sound!”

Xuanxuan clumsily wiped Mingran’s tears. “Don’t cry. I’ll cover your ears for you.” He thought the crying was because the shouting outside was too scary.

When the sounds in the yard finally stopped, Xuanxuan lowered his hands. “Can we talk now?” he asked earnestly.

Xuanxuan was different from the other kidnapped children. He was tall for his age and never made a sound when he was beaten, which usually just made the man hit him harder. Mingran always told him to act scared—the man liked it when they showed weakness—but Xuanxuan was stubborn. No matter how hard the blows, he remained silent and still.

The children weren’t a united front; many were jealous of the special care Xiaoling gave Mingran and treated him coldly. Xuanxuan ignored them all and stayed by Mingran’s side. Over time, Mingran developed a deep, quiet reliance on him.

“He’s gone. He must be asleep,” Mingran sniffled. “I wonder if Sister Xiaoling is hurting.”

Xuanxuan just watched him, silent.

“Let’s sleep.”

“Okay.”

But Mingran couldn’t sleep. His heart hammered in his chest, and he kept seeing Xiaoling being dragged away. He tossed and turned until Xuanxuan sat up.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“I’ll sing for you, then. My mom used to sing this to me when I couldn’t sleep.”

Xuanxuan began to sing $Chong Er Fei$ (Fireflies Fly. It was a song meant to be full of emotion, but Xuanxuan sang it in a flat, rhythmic tone, almost like he was chanting a sutra. Halfway through, Mingran started giggling. Xuanxuan ignored the laughter, carefully tucked Mingran’s limbs in, covered his eyes, and continued the chant:

“The dark sky hangs low,

The bright stars follow.

Fireflies fly, fireflies fly,

Who are you missing?

Stars in the sky are weeping,

Roses on the ground are wilting.

The cold wind blows, the cold wind blows,

As long as I have you by my side.”

Like a strange magic spell, the song worked. Mingran drifted off to sleep.

…

The lyrics echoed in Su Mingran’s mind until a sharp, stabbing pain forced him awake.

It was pitch black. It took several minutes for his eyes to adjust to the faint light reflecting off the office windows. He struggled to sit up, every inch of his body screaming in pain. His fingers twitched uncontrollably, and a wave of nausea hit his stomach.

He lunged for a nearby trash can and dry-heaved. Having not eaten all day, there was nothing to bring up, but his stomach continued to churn. Physiological tears from the nausea tracked down his pale, translucent face.

Loneliness and despair finally broke through. He missed Sister Xiaoling. He missed Xuanxuan. If he had known that returning to the Su family was just another nightmare, he would have let Xuanxuan go alone while he stayed behind with the monster. But there were no “ifs.”

He used a coffee table to haul himself up, but his legs buckled. After several tries, he managed to stand. He leaned against the wall and limped toward the elevator. He didn’t know where he was going; it felt like there was no place left for him in this world.

He made it down to the lobby and staggered toward the exit, only to collapse the moment he reached the air.

…

Gao Sheng was waiting to pick up Yang Lingxuan.

After a day of inspections and a tedious meeting with a client, Yang Lingxuan was in a foul mood. The client had insisted on drinks, and since Yang Lingxuan had barely eaten, the alcohol was giving him a headache.

As he approached the Maybach, Yang Lingxuan noticed something was off. Gao Sheng wasn’t waiting outside the car; he was fumbling with something in the front seat.

Yang Lingxuan opened the back door, hating the stuffy air inside. “Turn on the AC,” he commanded.

Gao Sheng stammered, “President Yang, I… I might need to bother you again.”

In the dim light, Yang Lingxuan saw a young man slumped in the passenger seat. It was the same one from this afternoon, but his face was now ghostly.

Yang Lingxuan frowned. He wasn’t a particularly compassionate man, nor did he enjoy meddling in others’ business. He had allowed the boy in the car earlier as a one-time favor. Why was he here again?

“President Yang, I found him lying at the entrance,” Gao Sheng whispered. “He scared me half to death; I thought he was dead. I think maybe he has internal injuries from earlier. I wanted to take him to the hospital.”

“I’ll drop you home first, then take him,” Gao Sheng promised. “I’ll pay for the car detailing myself. It won’t delay your schedule.”

Yang Lingxuan’s brow furrowed deeper. “Gao Sheng, you know we aren’t responsible for him.”

“But he hasn’t woken up.” Gao Sheng felt a pang of deep sympathy. When he had carried the boy, he realized how terrifyingly thin he was.

“What if he wakes up and blames you?” Yang Lingxuan’s voice turned cold. “What if he demands you pay his bills? What will you do then?”

Gao Sheng faltered. “I… I don’t think he would…”

Yang Lingxuan closed his eyes. When he opened them, his impatience was palpable. “Handle it yourself.”

Yang Lingxuan had no empathy for unnecessary strangers. His father often lamented this “emotional deficiency,” but Yang Lingxuan had never changed. He felt nothing for most people—except for his parents and one person from his past.

Gao Sheng, realizing he had overstepped, prepared to carry the boy to a nearby security post and call an ambulance. But as he reached for the boy, the unconscious Su Mingran began to sob, his lips moving as if he were singing.

Gao Sheng ignored it, but Yang Lingxuan suddenly snapped, “Stop.”

“Sir?”

Yang Lingxuan was staring intensely at Su Mingran. “What is he singing?”

Gao Sheng leaned in to listen. “It’s just a… a nursery rhyme.”