Save That Miserable Protagonist - Chapter 21

The rain outside was so heavy that even the sealed interior of the car filled with a rising mist. Along with this fine humidity, Lu Xun’s brow furrowed deeply.

For over twenty minutes, Lu Xun had been calling, but Pei Tingsong had not answered a single one. More than the annoyance of being ignored, a surge of worry rose within Lu Xun first.

Pei Tingsong was not the type of person to stand someone up. Even if there were an emergency, he would certainly call to let Lu Xun know rather than simply cutting off contact like this. Recalling the things that had happened before, Lu Xun grew anxious. He feared Pei Tingsong had encountered another predator. Although the way he handled Xu Xing meant that any second-generation heirs with eyes in Jiangcheng would not dare cross Lu Xun, there was no guarantee that some ignorant outsider would not provoke Pei Tingsong.

The more he thought about it, the more worried he became. Just as Lu Xun was about to call for reinforcements, the system, which had been silent for a long while, suddenly appeared.

“Host, this is bad! A critical plot point has occurred! The mission target’s grandmother’s vital signs are fading rapidly. In the original plot, she passed away today!”

The moment he heard this, Lu Xun’s heart skipped a beat. “What did you say?”

Before the system could answer, the phone Lu Xun had tossed aside rang abruptly. The word Minglai flashed on the screen, blindingly bright.

An ominous premonition wrapped around Lu Xun’s neck like a thin cord. Swallowing hard, his hand trembled as he pressed the answer button. On the other end, the hospital director’s secretary spoke in a cautious, small voice.

“Young Master Lu, I am terribly sorry. The lady you brought in, Ms. Zhang Hongli, suffered a sudden myocardial infarction today. It happened too fast. We utilized every resource and the best experts were there, but I am truly sorry. We were unable to resuscitate her.”

Lu Xun could not hear anything that followed.

The phone slipped from his hand, hitting the leather seat with a dull thud. The world seemed to fall silent, leaving only the pitter-patter of the continuous rain against the car window. It was over.

What will happen to Pei Tingsong?

That was the only thought left in Lu Xun’s mind.

The moment that thought struck, Lu Xun snapped back to reality. He slammed his foot on the accelerator and sped toward Minglai Hospital. He drove almost entirely on instinct, pushing the speed limit and eventually running several red lights. Upon reaching the hospital, he did not even take the keys out of the ignition before sprinting toward the emergency room. He did not even wait for the elevator. After a glance at the floor indicator, he turned and ran up seven flights of stairs in one breath.

When Lu Xun finally burst into the emergency area, drenched in mist and gasping for air, his footsteps skidded to a halt. Without needing a prompt from the system, he saw the figure sitting at the end of the long hallway.

Pei Tingsong was soaked to the bone. He looked as if he had just been fished out of a river. Strands of black hair clung tightly to his pale cheeks, and his clothes were plastered to his body, tracing an excessively thin silhouette. Droplets of water fell one by one from his hairline, splashing onto his already wet clothes and leaving winding trails across his face. Lu Xun could not tell if they were tear tracks or merely water.

He looked like a precarious piece of glazed glass about to shatter. Lu Xun no longer saw beauty; he saw only fragility. A massive wave of bitterness surged into Lu Xun’s chest, the pain so sharp he nearly lost his balance. Walking slowly, Lu Xun rounded the corner to stand before Pei Tingsong and carefully knelt down.

Pei Tingsong’s head was lowered. Hearing the movement, he raised his eyes with agonizing slowness. The moment he saw that gaze, Lu Xun’s heart wrenched.

There was no expression on Pei Tingsong’s face. He looked like a mechanical, lifeless doll. Yet his eyes were terrifyingly red, as if he had stayed up for days, or as if all his emotions had converged into those two points. Pei Tingsong just looked at Lu Xun. His lips moved, and his voice was so soft it was nearly drowned out by the rain outside, but Lu Xun heard him clearly.

He said, “Lu Xun, I have no family left.”

As he spoke, he blinked his eyelashes slightly. Those beautiful eyes were hollow and vacant. His voice was light, as if he were stating a fact that had nothing to do with him. “From now on, I am an orphan.”

The moment those words were uttered, Lu Xun’s heart ached with a dull, heavy pain. He had never seen Pei Tingsong like this: no crying, no shouting, just sitting there in silence, yet so fragile he seemed capable of being carried away by the wind at any second.

Death.

This was the first time Lu Xun had felt its weight so directly. It was heavy, suffocating, and left him at a total loss. Lu Xun did not know what else he could do or what he should say. But looking at Pei Tingsong, almost instinctively, Lu Xun reached out.

With a touch of clumsiness, he cupped Pei Tingsong’s face, carefully wiping away the water tracks. Pressing his forehead against the other man’s, Lu Xun pulled Pei Tingsong into his embrace.

“It is alright. It is alright,” he whispered. His voice was dry and raspy as he repeated those pale, hollow comforts. “I know. I know. Grandmother is just staying with you in a different way now. She will be watching you from above.”

He racked his brain to find any comforting words. The platitudes he usually found cringeworthy felt empty as he said them now. Pei Tingsong remained motionless in his arms, as if even his breathing had stopped. Even though the man was in his arms, Lu Xun felt as if he were losing his grip on him. He tightened his hold, hugging Pei Tingsong even harder, as if trying to merge the other man into his own flesh and blood.

Through the layers of their coats, Lu Xun could feel Pei Tingsong’s icy body temperature and his painfully thin bones. It was only when he felt the weak heartbeat overlap with his own that Lu Xun breathed a slight sigh of relief. His voice was raspy, carrying a reverence he did not even notice.

“It is okay. It is okay. You are not alone. You still have me to accompany you. I will accompany you for a lifetime.”

The words slipped out before he could even think about their weight. He was simply making the promise he felt he needed to make in that moment. Pei Tingsong was too fragile. If no one watched over him, it felt as though he truly might shatter if left unattended. So, Lu Xun promised again and again, with a solemnity and heartache he was unaware of. “Do not be afraid. I will accompany you for a lifetime.”

After saying this, Lu Xun tightened his arms, pressing Pei Tingsong deeper into his chest. His cheek pressed firmly against Pei Tingsong’s wet face, and he even lowered his head to kiss the other man’s forehead gently. “Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid.”

Pei Tingsong’s stiff body began to soften slightly under Lu Xun’s promises. He still did not say a word, but a suppressed, faint vibration came from their touching chests. Slowly, Lu Xun felt a warmth spreading against his neck and shoulder. He realized quickly that Pei Tingsong was crying. He made no sound even as he wept.

Lu Xun could only hold him tighter, his palm stroking Pei Tingsong’s back over and over, clumsily trying to soothe him. The rain outside grew even louder, with the howling wind sweeping through the empty corridor.

When he was five years old, a crowd of people had squeezed into Pei Tingsong’s small courtyard, saying things like, “Oh dear, the pillar of the house is gone. What will happen to the old and the young?” or “Did you hear? The daughter-in-law ran away as soon as she heard!”

They had watched the spectacle with laughter and then approached Pei Tingsong, offering insincere comforts. “Tingsong, it is fine. As long as I have a bite to eat, you will have one too!”

They were lying. It was all fake. Those words were only spoken to get a share of the compensation for his father’s accident. So, Pei Tingsong had studied desperately. He wanted to prove himself, to prove he was not a jinx, to prove his mother’s abandonment was a mistake. He had walked this path step by step, relying on his grandmother and that fifty thousand yuan of compensation.

But from now on, there would be no grandmother. She had vanished.

Tears spilled silently from his eyes. Pei Tingsong remained motionless, feeling this unpracticed yet forceful embrace and Lu Xun’s clumsy attempts at comfort. He felt his heart was as empty as the hallway, and his grandmother’s departure had swept away the last bit of warmth.

But just when he thought he had to face this sudden storm alone, someone had come. Someone had reached out to hold him, kiss him, and attempt to shield him from a gale that could not be blocked. Suddenly, Pei Tingsong felt that the howling wind outside seemed a bit quieter. He did not feel quite so cold anymore.

After a long while, the hand that had been hanging at Pei Tingsong’s side finally moved. He reached out, very gently, and gripped a small piece of the fabric on the back of Lu Xun’s shirt.