Stop Being a Black Lotus, Okay? - Chapter 10

Ying Yulian’s scream tore through the air. At that moment, time seemed to stretch into slow motion. Lu Min sensed the wind behind him, but he was at a critical juncture in disarming his opponent and his body could not move back in time to defend. He could only manage to twist his torso slightly to avoid his vital organs.

Then, he saw a blur of motion. A light blue school uniform and a dark jacket, moving like a moth to a flame, blocked the space between him and the jagged glass. It was Ying Yulian.

The boy found a sudden burst of strength and broke free from Lu Min’s protection. He used his slender body to forcefully collide with the attacker. The glass shard grazed his arm and tore through his sleeve, causing blood to gush out instantly.

However, Ying Yulian did not stop. He did not even glance at his bleeding arm. The moment he knocked the man back, he grabbed the wrist holding the broken bottle and clenched his other hand into a fist. He began to strike.

The first punch landed on the man’s face. The sound of a breaking nose was clearly audible as blood sprayed outward. The man let out a shrill scream and dropped the glass bottle. He tried to flee, but Ying Yulian’s hand held his wrist like a steel vice, making escape impossible.

The second punch landed in the man’s abdomen. The man doubled over and gagged, vomiting bile mixed with streaks of blood. Then came the third punch, and the fourth.

The light had vanished from Ying Yulian’s eyes. They were replaced by a bottomless black void, swirling with something primal, violent, and terrifying. His fists fell mechanically, precisely, and ruthlessly. Each strike carried the dull thud of bone hitting flesh, and with every blow, the man’s screams grew weaker.

He was beating the man to death.

The man with the scar and the remaining thug were paralyzed with fear, frozen in place. The only sounds in the junkyard were the thuds of fists hitting flesh and the man’s fading moans. Lu Min secured the knife and pinned the scarred man to the ground. He turned his head to look at Ying Yulian.

The boy was still punching. The victim had stopped moving. His face was swollen beyond recognition, and blood bubbles were forming at his mouth. Yet, Ying Yulian’s fists continued to fall on his chest, his face, and his ruined features. His own arm was covered in blood, and his school sleeve was soaked through and clinging to his skin. He felt no pain and no exhaustion. His eyes held only a crimson, burning madness.

He wanted to kill him. This thought coiled around him like a curse. He wanted to kill this man who had conspired with his father. He wanted to kill the person who had hurt Lu Min and destroyed the hard-won peace of his life.

“Ying Yulian,” a voice called out.

It was calm and deep, like a cold spring pouring into boiling lava. Ying Yulian’s fist stopped in mid-air, only an inch from the face of the man, Ying Guiquan. He turned his head slowly and mechanically toward the source of the voice.

Lu Min stood there. His dark eyes watched the boy with a look that held no terror or disgust, only a quiet, bottomless depth. For some reason, Ying Yulian felt that Lu Min was looking through him at someone else.

“Does your hand hurt?” Lu Min asked softly.

Ying Yulian froze. He looked down at his blood-stained hand. His knuckles were raw and mangled, mixed with the blood of the other man in a sticky, sickening mess. The wound on his arm was still bleeding steadily, staining half of his uniform red.

He could not feel the pain.

Lu Min walked toward him. His steps were steady as he stepped over the wreckage, the moaning thugs, and the motionless body of Ying Guiquan. He stopped in front of Ying Yulian and reached out.

Ying Yulian instinctively closed his eyes. He knew Lu Min hated violence and had always taught him to avoid using force to solve problems. However, he could not endure seeing anyone harm Lu Min. He did not regret his actions and was willing to accept any punishment.

To his surprise, there was no sharp pain of a strike. Lu Min did not even touch his bloody hand. Instead, he used his thumb to gently wipe a stray drop of blood from the boy’s cheek.

“Stop hitting him,” Lu Min said, his voice remaining soft. “If you continue, you will ruin your hand.”

Ying Yulian’s vision began to focus. The crimson madness faded away, revealing the confused and fragile interior beneath. He looked at Lu Min and saw his own blood-covered reflection in the man’s dark eyes. He felt the hand tenderly cleaning his face. Suddenly, his legs gave way, and he slumped forward.

Lu Min caught him firmly. He slid one arm under the boy’s knees and supported his back with the other, lifting him in a horizontal carry. Ying Yulian buried his face in the crook of Lu Min’s neck, his body trembling uncontrollably.

“It is over,” Lu Min’s voice sounded above him, steady and reassuring. “We are going home.”

He carried Ying Yulian and turned to leave the junkyard. The sun had completely set, and the alley was shrouded in darkness. The distant sound of sirens grew louder, indicating that Lu Min’s earlier phone call had been successful.

Lu Min did not wait. He carried the boy through the maze of alleys toward the car parked at the entrance. Ying Yulian wrapped his arms around Lu Min’s neck and pressed his face against his chest. He could hear the man’s strong, steady heartbeat and smell his clean, cold scent. He felt the arms holding him, which were as stable as if they would never let go.

“Brother, I am sorry,” he whispered in a raspy voice.

“I see. Why are you sorry?”

“I almost beat him to death.”

“I know.”

“Will you hate me?”

Lu Min’s footsteps paused briefly. He looked down at the boy in his arms. Ying Yulian was looking back at him with watery eyes filled with anxiety and fear. It was not fear of the men from the junkyard, but fear that Lu Min might despise him.

Lu Min watched him for a long time. Then, his lips curved into an almost imperceptible smile.

“I do not hate you,” he said. “But next time, do not use your hands.”

Ying Yulian was stunned. Lu Min looked up and continued walking. His voice drifted down, sounding as calm as if they were discussing the weather. “Your hands will hurt. Use a tool.”

The boy leaned against him, processing those words. Then, he slowly buried his face back into Lu Min’s neck and tightened his grip. The corner of his mouth curved up ever so slightly.

The sirens grew closer, and the flashing red and blue lights illuminated the alley entrance. Lu Min carried Ying Yulian out of the darkness and into the chaotic light. Behind them, the junkyard remained a mess as officers began to process the scene. Ahead, the city lights flickered on one by one, creating a warm and bright river of light.

Lu Min carried him through the darkness toward the light, toward the place called home where Lu Min would always be. Ying Yulian closed his eyes and pressed closer to the man’s chest. He did not regret what he had done to that man, but he hated that he had allowed his brother to see such an ugly side of him.

He peeked out from Lu Min’s arms and watched coldly as the police lifted the blood-covered man onto a stretcher. He believed that anyone who tried to hurt his brother deserved to pay in blood. As long as he was there, he would not let anyone harm him.