The Real Young Master is Entangled by the Paranoid Fake Young Master - Chapter 39

When the police and the Song family burst into the shack, they found only Tao Jiang holding a dagger, preparing to take his own life, and a wide-open window.

Ultimately, Tao Jiang lacked the courage to end his existence. After a brief, pathetic struggle, he surrendered. When questioned about the whereabouts of Zhaoqing and Song Yuening, he merely sneered and jerked his chin toward the window.

“They fell. Probably smashed to death by now,” he replied.

Hearing this, Xie Chengxuan, who had arrived with the rescue party, lunged forward. He snatched a wooden stool and hurled it at Tao Jiang’s head. If the bystanders hadn’t pinned him back, Tao Jiang might have died then and there.

“Hehe, glaring at me won’t do any good. If I’d known you could find this place, I wouldn’t have listened to Song Zhaoqing and let you go. I should have sent you with him to the King of Hell, you could have been a pair of ghost lovers in the underworld. Hahahaha!” The crazed Tao Jiang was hauled away, spitting venomous curses until the end.

“He’s already buried at the bottom of the sea! You won’t even find his corpse in this lifetime!”

“Zhaoqing! Song Zhaoqing!”

Xie Chengxuan roared like a man possessed. He had lost all reason; if not for the quick reflexes of his bodyguards, he would have leaped off the cliff to follow them. His eyes were bloodshot, and he screamed Zhaoqing’s name until his voice broke, but the surface of the sea remained mockingly calm.

Everything that had just happened felt like a cruel hallucination.

He saved me. Xie Chengxuan thought, his soul feeling hollow. Why did Song Zhaoqing, who supposedly hated me, save me? While the “White Moonlight” I loved is likely the murderer who tried to ruin me?

Xie Chengxuan was no fool. Most of the time, he was simply blinded by his own infatuations. But the shock of this life-and-death parting shattered the illusions he refused to acknowledge.

Everything had turned bizarre from the moment Song Yuening started preventing him from seeing Zhaoqing. Aside from Chengxuan and Zhaoqing themselves, the only person who knew Zhaoqing was angry with him was Song Yuening.

If that note hadn’t been written by Zhaoqing to invite him out, then the only other person it could have been was…

Was a single childhood memory really worth a lifetime of devotion? Unfortunately, the silent sea offered no answers to his questions.

The Search

Fu Lansheng stumbled onto the jagged reef beach below the cliff, looking more disheveled than he had ever been in his life.

How could he just jump? To jump for that “bastard.”

Yuening had disregarded their years of friendship and their long-term schemes.

Why?! Why have we drifted so far apart since that lowly Song Zhaoqing returned? What is so good about him that makes you stake your life for his!

The sting of betrayal, the humiliation of unrequited affection, and the fury of failure churned in his heart. The black reefs were sharp, and Fu Lansheng pounded his fist against them until they bled, yet he felt no pain.

He didn’t stop until Lin Qi arrived and held him back. He had to find Yuening, and whether dead or alive, he had to find that damn Song Zhaoqing! It was Zhaoqing who had destroyed what he cherished most; the boy deserved to be ground into dust.

If Fu Lansheng hadn’t planted Lin Qi by Yuening’s side, he wouldn’t have even known of the accident this quickly.

“Go search! Even if you have to turn this sea upside down, find Yuening!!!”

The Awakening

“Cough, cough… cough…”

“Brother Zhaoqing! Brother Zhaoqing! Look, is he waking up?” A dark-skinned boy tugged at the sleeve of a youth whose arm was in a sling, pointing excitedly at the unconscious person on the bed.

Outside the small earthen courtyard lay a vast expanse of dark sea with white-capped waves. Zhaoqing quickly used his good hand to feel Song Yuening’s forehead.

Finally, the fever is breaking. He let out a soft sigh of relief.

However, his expression darkened again when he saw the layers of gauze wrapped around Yuening’s eyes. After falling into the sea, they had been miraculously rescued by a fishing boat. Zhaoqing could hardly believe his luck. He had expected his rebirth to end as miserably as his first life, but it seemed fate had granted them a reprieve.

He and Song Yuening were currently staying at the home of Xiao Heng, the boy who had saved them. Xiao Heng told him that when he and his grandfather found them, Yuening was holding Zhaoqing tightly in his arms, their hands so locked together that the grandfather had to exert great effort to pry them apart.

Xiao Heng had said, “The two of you must have a very deep bond.”

The sentiment wasn’t new; Zhaoqing realized many people had said similar things in this lifetime. Yet he had never felt that way himself.

Aside from the external injuries and a mild concussion from Tao Jiang’s beating, Zhaoqing only had a fractured arm. Song Yuening, however, was in a much bleaker state.

The island had only one village doctor, Xiao Heng’s grandfather. He had applied basic medicine to stabilize Yuening’s condition, but he warned Zhaoqing to prepare for the worst. Yuening’s body appeared to have been eroded by some long-term chemical or drug; if the fever didn’t break within two days, his chances of survival were slim.

Zhaoqing had wanted to take Yuening off the island, believing the Song family’s resources could save him. But fate intervened again, a violent storm and hurricane had hit, and travel would be impossible for at least half a month.

Half a month… Yuening’s life now rested entirely in the hands of destiny.

After some thought, Zhaoqing unfastened the silver “Peace Buckle” pendant he always wore and hung it around Yuening’s neck. It was the only thing Pei Yan had left him. Before Zhaoqing knew she was the one who had stolen him as a baby, this pendant was his only proof that his mother loved him.

Now, he placed it on Song Yuening. This Peace Buckle had originally been Pei Yan’s blessing for her actual beloved son. Zhaoqing had carried the title for years in vain; now he let go of that false maternal love and returned the token to its rightful owner. He hoped it would truly protect Yuening.

The Truth in the Dark

Xiao Heng’s grandfather mentioned that the island’s mountains held herbs that had been used for generations, crushed and mixed with shell powder to treat the villagers. While not miracle cures, some were surprisingly effective. Zhaoqing felt immense gratitude and respect for this wise, simple old man.

When Zhaoqing promised to repay him, the old man simply waved it off. He shared that years ago, he had saved another wealthy youth who visited the coast. Instead of showing gratitude, that youth had stolen the family’s ancestral medical formula.

That youth now owned a massive pharmaceutical company and made a fortune, likely built on that very formula.

Xiao Heng chimed in indignantly, “Hmph! But he doesn’t know that formula was only the first half. The final ingredients were passed down orally in our family. Even with his high-tech labs, without the extracts from those specific herbs, the formula won’t work right!”

“It might even have side effects!” the boy added bitterly.

A wealthy youth, a pharmaceutical company? The story felt eerily familiar to Zhaoqing. He felt himself grasping at a thread of a larger mystery, but before he could follow the thought, a weak hand gripped his arm.

“Water, water.”

Song Yuening felt as if he were lost in a pitch-black forest. His throat burned. Xiao Heng quickly tried to give him water, but Yuening couldn’t lift his head; the water spilled down his neck, causing him to choke and cough.

“Give it to me, I’ll do it,” Zhaoqing said. He took a small spoon and scooped a little water at a time while Xiao Heng supported Yuening’s back. Zhaoqing carefully fed him drop by drop.

“You’re awake,” Zhaoqing soothed as the other struggled.

“Is that, Zhao-zhao?” Yuening asked hesitantly, finally recognizing the voice. “Where are we? Why can’t I see you? What’s happened to me?”

“We are in Dongyue Village, a fishing village on an island in the West Sea,” Zhaoqing answered only the first question.

But Yuening was incredibly sharp. He immediately understood. Brushing off Xiao Heng’s hand, he reached up to touch his own eyes. He felt only the gauze. Even when he tried to open them, there was no light.

“Song Zhaoqing!”

Panic flared. In two lifetimes, this was the first time Zhaoqing had seen desperate terror on Yuening’s refined, cold face. The man who had been composed even before Tao Jiang, who moved through every danger with grace, was now utterly helpless. He looked like a cornered animal, baring its teeth and claws in a dead end.

In this moment, with the mask of hypocrisy stripped away, he finally looked like a seventeen-year-old boy.

“Calm down! You’re still sick!” Xiao Heng cried, frightened by his erratic behavior. He tried to stop Yuening from lunging toward Zhaoqing but was shoved aside.

“Am I blind? I’m blind, aren’t I? It’s never going to get better! Answer me, Zhao-zhao! Answer me! Song Zhaoqing!”

Yuening was desperate for an answer. Zhaoqing watched him, his heart a tangle of conflicting emotions.

The grandfather had told him: “Your friend’s eyes aren’t necessarily a lost cause, but we don’t have the medical facilities here for the surgery he needs. He protected you when you hit the water, and his head struck a reef. There is a blood clot pressing on the nerves. There is a window for recovery, but if too much time passes, the blindness will be permanent. For now, the herbs can only do so much. Whether he sees again depends on heaven’s will.”

Heaven’s will. In other words, the hope was slim.

Zhaoqing understood the situation. But he refused to believe in a cruel fate. He had lived a tragic first life, yet heaven had granted him rebirth and survival after the fall. He chose to believe that fate might favor Yuening, the “darling of the heavens,” enough to grant him a cure provided this storm would finally end.