Transmigrated as the Villain and Driven Crazy by the Vengeful Male Lead - Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Seems Drunk

 Brother, you are so kind, let me give you some candy…

Su Cheyue pushed his wheelchair into the room, frowning as he brushed past Lyu Shuyao.

“You really did drink?”

“Mm,” Lyu Shuyao responded indistinctly. “Did you find that person?”

“I searched the inn with my brother, but found nothing,” Su Cheyue said in a heavy voice. “Perhaps we were a step too late.”

Lyu Shuyao let out an “Oh,” standing there aimlessly. It was only when he turned and saw the young girl sitting quietly that he remembered he had one more task to do.

“This little girl is lost. I need to take her back first.”

The little girl turned to Su Cheyue and sweetly called out, “Hello, Big Brother.”

“Shall we go?”

Lyu Shuyao took her by the sleeve and left the Second Young Master alone in the room. The large and the small, the tall and the short, walked a full circle around the second-floor corridor until the girl finally tugged on the hem of Lyu Shuyao’s robe in front of a room. She stopped and thanked him in a soft, milky voice: “It’s here. I found it. Thank you, Big Brother.”

“You’re welcome. You have a great memory,” Lyu Shuyao leaned down to praise her.

A shy blush crept onto the girl’s face. “Daddy and Mommy always say that too. Especially for people who are good to me, I remember them very clearly.”

As she spoke, she produced a candy wrapped in colored paper from nowhere and handed it to Lyu Shuyao. “Brother, you are so kind. I’m treating you to candy.”

Lyu Shuyao’s gaze softened. “Thank you. Go to sleep now; if it gets any later, your parents will worry.” He gently patted the top of her head.

“Goodnight, Big Brother.”

“Goodnight!” Lyu Shuyao smiled and waved goodbye, watching her enter the room.

He turned back, rubbing his eyes as he walked forward, until he had circled the second floor once more…

And realized he was lost too.

The wine hadn’t felt intoxicating during the initial sips, but its after-effects were ferocious. Combined with walking in circles in a confined space, he felt incredibly dizzy.

Deciding not to search any further, Lyu Shuyao simply sat down on the spot. It was midwinter; the wooden floor was icy cold, and the space between the corridor wall and the railing wasn’t wide enough for him to stretch out his long legs.

He leaned against the wall behind him and fell fast asleep.

Inside the room, the occupant waited for a long time without seeing him return. Pushing his wheelchair out, Su Cheyue saw Lyu Shuyao sitting on the floor outside, his crimson robes scattered haphazardly, his long, straight legs curled up pitifully. He appeared to be already asleep.

Su Cheyue pushed the wheelchair over and tapped the wall behind Lyu Shuyao’s shoulder.

Lyu Shuyao struggled to open his bleary eyes. “…Hm?”

“Why are you sleeping here? It’s not like there isn’t a room for you.”

Lyu Shuyao tilted his head to look at him for a long time, taking a while to process the words before saying, “Isn’t that your room?”

Before Su Cheyue could answer, he added, “Oh, are you going to share a room with Su Qingyang so you two can talk?”

Su Cheyue had spoken with Su Qingyang for a long time before coming out, telling him about how he could suddenly hear evil desires from miles away. Su Qingyang had immediately borrowed a wheelchair the inn kept for the disabled, and the two conducted a quick search, but as previously stated, they found nothing.

After finishing, Su Qingyang wanted to arrange a room for Su Cheyue to rest in, and only then did Su Cheyue realize Lyu Shuyao had been missing all day.

Su Cheyue thought for a moment and said, “I’ll go open another room.”

When the wheelchair reached the top of the stairs, he realized it couldn’t go down. Su Cheyue realized something and suddenly became indignant, turning back: “Lyu Shuyao, what is wrong with you?”

Lyu Shuyao opened his eyes innocently, hazy with intoxication. “What is it?”

“I’m already sleeping in the corridor, is the Second Young Master still not satisfied?”

“Not satisfied with this, not satisfied with that… why do you get angry so easily? Your hatred points go up by 500 at a time, but only drop by 5. Su Cheyue, are you a loan shark?”

??? What hatred points?

Lyu Shuyao suddenly leaned forward. The height of the wheelchair was just right for him to rest his hands on Su Cheyue’s knees, and just right so that he didn’t have to strain to look up. His dark, alcohol-brightened eyes looked straight into the depths of Su Cheyue’s.

“You trust Su Qingyang very much, don’t you? You are blood relatives; he is your brother, and I am nothing. He hasn’t come to see you for a month, while I’ve been busy for you all month long, but so what? You still have to keep things from me when you talk to him. Once you see him, you don’t need me anymore.”

“What did I do wrong? Or rather, is everything I do wrong?”

He rubbed his chin against his own arm, but because he was lightheaded and unstable, he spent most of the time rubbing against Su Cheyue’s knees. In his drunken state, he became obsessed with the arm and the knee, insisting on rubbing the right spot over and over.

Finally, he gave up on his own arm, tilting his face to rest on the knee, letting the scent of green pear waft into his nose.

“Su Cheyue, will you let your brother kill me tonight?”

Su Cheyue rarely refrained from pulling away from his physical touch. He simply looked down at him, listening to his disjointed words, attempting to dig out more of the hidden emotions behind this man.

He dared to ask what he did wrong?

Then what did he (Su Cheyue) do wrong?

Regarding the matter of the Evil Ghost Purgatory—if he didn’t mention it, would Lyu Shuyao really act like nothing had happened?

Kill him? If he really was the one who caused Su Cheyue to fall into such a hopeless state, killing him would be getting off easy.

Su Cheyue’s pale fingers lifted Lyu Shuyao’s chin, the cold gloom in his deep brown pupils almost overflowing.

“The Evil Ghost Purgatory—what exactly did you do?”

This question, every single word, had been hanging in Su Cheyue’s heart. He had thought about it and guessed about it for a long time, but because he was wary of Lyu Shuyao’s current strength, he had never dared to ask it aloud.

Lyu Shuyao lifted his thin eyelids to look at him; his black eyes were deep and hollow, and his alcohol-moistened lips were slightly parted. Su Cheyue stared intently at his lips, losing himself for a moment, but the man said nothing.

Su Cheyue knitted his brows in anger, his five fingers moving down to lock tightly around Lyu Shuyao’s neck: “Answer me!”

Lyu Shuyao tilted his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing with difficulty. Between the suffocation and the alcohol, he seemed to give a faint smile, and then his head slumped.

He had passed out again in Su Cheyue’s palm.

Su Cheyue’s expression was extremely ugly. His fingertips froze for a moment before he released him.

“Did you find Lyu Shuyao?” Su Qingyang walked over from his room and saw the heap of crimson collapsed behind Su Cheyue. “What happened?”

“He’s dead,” Su Cheyue said.

Su Qingyang’s face paled. He stepped forward to check and his face turned from white to red: “…Ayue, you scared the life out of me.”

“I just asked the waiter; there are no more spare rooms in the inn. Do you want to stay with me? I’ll sleep on the small couch.”

Su Cheyue regained his calm demeanor and shook his head. “That’s not right. I cannot inconvenience my brother.”

“How is it an inconvenience? This way it’s easier for me to take care of you…”

“I’ll have to trouble Brother,” Su Cheyue gripped the wheelchair and headed toward Lyu Shuyao’s room. “Help me carry him into the room, and then ask the waiter for a bowl of hangover soup.”

…

A loud “CLANG” startled Lyu Shuyao awake.

His head throbbed, and his consciousness was groggy. He turned his gaze and saw that dawn had not yet broken. The room was dark, save for a few desolate strands of moonlight. Someone was struggling to climb from the bed into a wheelchair; it looked like the loud noise earlier was from him knocking over the Zhanquan sword leaning nearby.

“…” Lyu Shuyao pressed hard on his temple, struggling to get up like a puddle of mud. He walked unsteadily from the couch to the bedside; the distance of just a few steps was navigated in a winding “Z” shape.

His mind was chaotic. He instinctively pulled Su Cheyue’s white cloak from the wooden rack and wrapped it naturally around Su Cheyue’s shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

In the murky moonlight, Su Cheyue looked down at his shoulder—it was unclear if he was looking at the cloak or Lyu Shuyao’s hand, which hadn’t been withdrawn yet. After a moment of silence, he said, “I heard that voice again.”

Lyu Shuyao snapped awake. “Where? Didn’t we already today…”

“Right here.” Su Cheyue immediately headed out. “Perhaps we alerted the enemy, and he has returned.”

Lyu Shuyao picked up Zhanquan and followed closely behind.

The lobby and the second floor of the inn were dark, the candles extinguished. Only two red lanterns at the entrance remained, flickering like ghostly eyes.

Su Cheyue headed straight for the source of the sound. When he accurately locked onto the door of a specific room, Lyu Shuyao’s heart skipped a beat.

This was…

Sitting in his chair, Su Cheyue did not hesitate. He raised his hand and knocked on the door.

There was no movement inside.

Lyu Shuyao felt a surge of anxiety. Su Cheyue continued to knock; both the frequency and the volume increased.

The two exchanged a glance. Lyu Shuyao gripped the sword, stepped in front of Su Cheyue to shield him, and kicked the door open.

Clouds obscured the moon, leaving the room pitch black. By the eerie light of the lanterns outside, they saw someone standing facing the bed. His figure was quite tall and seemed rather familiar.

Almost the instant the door opened, the person turned their face. Their expression couldn’t be seen clearly, yet it was clear enough to see who it was.

Lyu Shuyao froze on the spot. A few seconds later, he slowly turned his head to look at Su Cheyue.

—You trust Su Qingyang very much, don’t you?

In those brief seconds, Lyu Shuyao tried to scrape together and recall every bit of plot involving Su Qingyang.

He helps Su Cheyue down the mountain and leads him through the first “dungeon” arc. Afterward, Su Cheyue meets the female lead who redeems him, and Su Qingyang returns to the Baoshan Sect. From then on, Su Cheyue recovers elsewhere, the original Lyu Shuyao razes the Baoshan Sect to the ground, Su Qingyang dies, and the two never meet again.

The first dungeon… the first dungeon… is the one they are in right now the first dungeon?

Or is it a side-story the author omitted?

The killer here… could it actually be…

In these few seconds, even Su Cheyue seemed uncharacteristically lost in thought. He called out woodenly: “…Brother?”

Su Qingyang walked out, his face looking tired with faint shadows under his eyes. He was equally surprised. He looked back into the room and lowered his voice as much as possible: “Why are you two here so late?”

Lyu Shuyao grabbed Su Qingyang’s wrist and dragged him into the room by force. Su Qingyang followed, whispering a reprimand: “What are you doing, Lyu Shuyao?! Have you still not sobered up?!”

Lyu Shuyao walked quickly to the bedside. On the bed lay the lost “little princess” they had seen earlier tonight.

Her hands were folded over her stomach, her expression gentle and peaceful. A faint trace of a smile lingered at the corner of her small mouth.

Lyu Shuyao nervously reached out and felt under her nose.

“What are you doing? Don’t wake—”

She was still breathing.

He scanned her once more; there were no obvious external injuries.

Lyu Shuyao let out a long sigh of relief. He looked past Su Qingyang and nodded to the person outside the door.

Su Cheyue’s face was as cold as water as he steered his wheelchair away from the door. Lyu Shuyao retracted the sword into his spiritual veins and pulled Su Qingyang out again: “Let’s talk outside.”

The lamp in Su Qingyang’s room was lit. Just like during the day, the three sat around the table once more.

“What exactly is going on? You two…” Su Qingyang rubbed his aching wrist. “Ayue, is he bullying you and forbidding you from telling me?”

What on earth was he talking about?? Prejudice is a mountain!!

Lyu Shuyao slammed the sword onto the table. “Eldest Young Master, why were you in that little girl’s room in the middle of the night? Where are her parents?”

“You know her?” Su Qingyang was surprised.

Lyu Shuyao: “I’ve seen her.”

Su Qingyang looked at him suspiciously. “You are a member of Ayue’s household; by seniority, you should call me ‘Brother.’ Where I am and why I am there doesn’t seem to be something I need to report to you.”

Lyu Shuyao was choked by these words: “I—”

“Brother,” Su Cheyue spoke up beside Lyu Shuyao. “Cheyue oversteps his bounds, but I implore Brother to explain this matter in detail. It is very important.”

Since his injury, Su Cheyue had never formally bowed to anyone with such courtesy. Now, in the dead of night, by the soft candlelight, his face was like jade. He raised his arms and bowed slightly in his wheelchair, his spine curving into a graceful arc: “Brother, I beg of you.”

It was as if he were embracing a clear breeze with the bright moon in his arms. Or like a spring willow drooping slightly, or winter plum blossoms weighing down a branch. The sight moved the other two profoundly.

The two Su brothers came from the same lineage; both liked to frown. Su Qingyang’s brow had been anxious, but seeing Su Cheyue’s gesture of etiquette—at once foreign and familiar—his brow finally smoothed out after a moment of stunned silence.

Even while mired in the mud himself, he still thought of saving others. Su Cheyue was still that same Su Cheyue—the number one in the immortal sects, unparalleled in the world.

“Ayue,” Su Qingyang called out. “There’s no need for this. I will tell you.”