Everyone Regrets It After My Death - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Su Mingran, Just How Long Do You Intend to Bully Qi Xinghe?

Even though Qi Xinghe hadn’t uttered a single word, and even though the one pinned beneath him in pain was himself, his brother, Su Mo, acted as if he had witnessed the entire event. Based purely on his own subjective bias, he decided that Su Mingran was the one who had pushed Qi Xinghe down the stairs.

Arriving in a hurry alongside him were Su Renhua and his mother, Yan Qian.

Su Renhua’s reaction mirrored Su Mo’s perfectly. Without waiting for Su Mingran to speak, he slapped him across the face—father and son were truly cut from the same cloth.

“Su Mingran, ever since you came home, you’ve been resentful of Xinghe. I thought you were just playing small tricks behind his back, but I never imagined you’d be bold enough to push him!”

“If anything happens to Xinghe, I won’t let you off!”

Su Renhua scooped Qi Xinghe up from Su Mo’s arms, shouting for someone to get the car ready to rush him to the hospital.

Meanwhile, the matriarch, Yan Qian, gave Su Mingran a cold, indifferent glance before following Su Renhua to the hospital.

The backyard was filled with servants pointing and whispering at Su Mingran. They knew Qi Xinghe had pushed him first; they knew Qi Xinghe had fallen by accident while trying to frame him. Yet, they all stood by, watching the spectacle.

Su Mo approached Su Mingran, who was struggling to stand. He looked down on him with a condescending air. As he stepped forward, a yellow dog suddenly emerged, barking fiercely at Su Mo as if trying to protect Su Mingran.

Su Mo gave the nearby servants a cold look. Understanding the command, they called over several men to catch the dog. Seeing the threat, the yellow dog vanished in a flash.

Su Mingran was in agony. Through the haze of that first slap from Su Mo, he thought he saw the dog’s shadow returning. Perhaps the dog wanted to protect him, but it was just as isolated and powerless as he was.

“Su Mingran, how long do you plan on bullying Qi Xinghe? Just because his last name isn’t Su, you think you can abuse him? The Su family feeds you, clothes you, and pays for your schooling. We owe you nothing.”

“Do you remember what you looked like when you first arrived? Compared to then, you have it good here. What more do you want?”

Su Mo inherited Su Renhua’s stern features. Most servants feared him; he only showed a gentler side to Qi Xinghe.

The two men of the Su family treated Su Mingran differently: Su Renhua treated him with complete neglect, while Su Mo added a layer of active disdain and contempt.

As the eldest son and designated heir, Su Mo had been raised among the elite. Su Renhua had taught him from a young age: do not waste time on useless people; stay away from those inferior to you.

And in Su Mo’s eyes, Su Mingran was the most inferior of all.

…

At thirteen, Su Mingran and a companion had escaped from human traffickers and sought help from the police to return home.

His companion had been picked up by family almost immediately. Su Mingran waited nearly two weeks. He asked the officers why his parents hadn’t come; later, he learned they had only filed a perfunctory report three days after he went missing. They hadn’t fought desperately to find him like other parents. The police only reached them when they were “free” to send someone.

The day they sent someone to get him was supposed to be the happiest day of his dark life. He hallucinated his parents opening their arms, his siblings tearfully welcoming him back.

The reality was the polar opposite. Only his sister, Su Minmin, was waiting.

Standing at the base of the villa, she held her nose, scanning him with disgust. “Why are you so smelly?” she muttered, ordering someone to take him to see Su Mo.

Returning at thirteen after being gone since age seven, everything felt foreign. Su Mingran tugged at his pants nervously. “The police officer finally found a clean shirt for me. This is the cleanest I have.”

Su Minmin, five years his senior, already carried the air of a wealthy socialite. Cloaked in expensive perfume and designer clothes, she sneered, “Are you really a Su? No one in our family looks this pathetic.”

Su Mingran bit his lip and lowered his head in silence.

Eventually, he was led to a beautifully decorated room where a stern young man sat. Next to him was a delicate young boy playing games on a phone. When the boy lost and hit the older man in frustration, the man simply stroked his hair tenderly.

That was Su Mingran’s first glimpse of Su Mo—a high-born gentleman. And that gentleman looked at his long-lost biological brother with nothing but arrogance.

“Are you sure this is Su Mingran? Since when does the Su family produce a rag-picker?”

Every time Su Mingran recalled that homecoming, he wondered: if he had dressed better that day, if he had been more polite, would they have loved him?

…

Closing his eyes against the rush of bitter memories, Su Mingran looked up to meet Su Mo’s gaze. “Raising me is your obligation. I don’t owe you. I am a Su—does that give you the right to insult and hit me?”

The temperature in Su Mo’s eyes dropped further. Of all the children, he loathed Su Mingran most. Su Minmin wasn’t particularly favored either, but she knew how to play the game and flatter them. Su Mingran was like a porcupine—just looking at him felt like being pricked.

“Su Mingran, I’m not wasting words on you. If you’re smart, pray that Xinghe is okay. Otherwise, don’t expect to stay in this house much longer.”

With a flick of his sleeve, Su Mo left for the hospital.

Only the cleaning staff and Su Minmin remained. Having watched the drama from the sidelines, she approached him while snacking on melon seeds.

“Hey, if you were going to push him, why didn’t you finish the job? Why let him live?” She looked down at him, her makeup flawless. “If you’d killed him, I might have thrown you some pocket change after you got kicked out.”

Su Minmin was actually the firstborn, a twin to Su Mo. But because Su Renhua wanted a “firstborn son” to secure the family hierarchy, he forced everyone to recognize Su Mo as the elder. In the Su family, the title of “Eldest Son” carried supreme authority. Su Mo was encouraged to suppress Su Minmin.

Like Su Mingran, she was undervalued. But unlike him, she was a sycophant, earning her a much better life than his. Yet, she shared his hatred for Qi Xinghe, who received unconditional love for doing nothing.

“Hey, are you mute? Say something.”

Su Mingran ignored her. He tried to stand several times but lacked the strength. Su Minmin watched him struggle and collapse like a clumsy clown, eventually laughing out loud. “Mingran, you should learn from me. Saying a few nice things won’t kill you.”

After resting on the ground for a while, he finally found the strength to rise. His vision blurred, and he nearly stumbled into her.

“Hey! Don’t touch me! This outfit is expensive!”

Su Mingran shook his head to clear it and limped back to his room to clean his wounds. His head throbbed. He checked the mirror but couldn’t see a visible wound through his hair. His body was covered in bruises turning a deep purple, and his pinky finger had been forced into an unnatural, unclosable angle since the fall.

He wanted to go to the hospital, but he had no money.

Since he started university, the Su family had stopped checking on him. They didn’t even know his major. He could have asked for tuition, but every request was met with mockery from assistants or a lecture from Su Renhua, who would eventually throw money at him as if feeding a stray dog. Su Mingran eventually stopped asking.

He worked part-time jobs to save up, but that money was intended for something else, not medical bills.

Looking at his battered reflection, he sighed, pulled a card from under his bed, and quietly left through the back garden.

He walked for thirty minutes and waited another thirty for a bus. Resting his head against the window, Su Minmin’s words echoed: Saying a few nice things won’t kill you.

She didn’t know that he had tried. He had tried to imitate her and Qi Xinghe, trying to learn how to please people. But he had no talent for it. No matter what he did, his parents and brother simply did not like him.

The bus stopped, and a family of five boarded. The parents held the children’s hands, and the eldest brother watched over the younger ones. They were harmonious—the kind of family Su Mingran envied.

People say there are no parents who don’t love their children, only those with different ways of showing it. Su Mingran used to tell himself that. Maybe they just didn’t know how to express it.

Over time, that belief withered. His parents truly did not like him.

He still didn’t understand what he had done wrong to make them resent his very existence. He thought about it for a long time, but he still couldn’t find the answer.