Transmigrated as the Villain and Driven Crazy by the Vengeful Male Lead - Chapter 65

Chapter 65: From Puppy to Big Dog — He remembered that he wasn’t originally a…

Give up? Su Cheyue is giving up?

Do those two words even have anything to do with him?

The entire book was about how he tried every possible means to recover, and after recovering, how he stirred up trouble and sought revenge. What is this now? The protagonist gives up on treatment? The end? Grand finale??

Is he some kind of world-class lunatic or fool?

I’ve worked so hard for so long, traveled to so many places, and suffered so much—wasn’t it all just to make him better, to make him the same as he was before?

Why give up just like that? Why refuse treatment just like that?!

Lyu Shurao’s anger flared up like a mushroom cloud exploding in his chest, the aftershocks trembling uncontrollably.

“Why… why on earth?! What is he thinking?!”

Shock gritted against his teeth; even his questioning was done with a shivering jaw.

“Can you really not see it?” Tao Xuanxuan’s gaze was deep. “Do you truly know nothing?”

Lyu Shurao was dizzy with rage. “Su Cheyue… I have to ask him…”

“Asking him won’t help. The method to unseal a spiritual point from the inside is completely different from the outside. As long as he is unwilling, no one can force it open.”

“Then tell me exactly what’s going on!”

Tao Xuanxuan remained expressionless. “This is the Second Young Master’s private matter. Besides, he has never mentioned anything to me. Therefore, I have no standing and no way to tell you.”

“Private matter? What do you mean private matter?” Lyu Shurao was going crazy. “Then what do we do? What do we do now?!”

“I told you just now,” she said calmly. “The best course of action I can think of is for you to leave.”

“Only if you leave might he rekindle his will to seek medical help.”

“I still don’t understand…” But he had just promised him not long ago that he wouldn’t leave him alone!

“He will tell you,” Tao Xuanxuan saw through it but didn’t speak it plainly, “when he is willing.”

Lyu Shurao’s mind raced. He took a deep breath and clenched his fists.

“…Can I really trust you?” He took a step closer to her.

In this moment, he completely cast the fact that “Tao Xuanxuan is the heroine and he is the villain” to the back of his mind.

“Medicine meets those who believe; only then can it save. That’s what Tao Zhongran said. I will do my best.”

“How long will it take?”

“Two months should be enough.”

“…Fine.”

The dark, deep light in Lyu Shurao’s eyes gradually calmed down. “There is still residual poison from the gu insects in his body. Please clear that for him as well. In two months, I will come to pick him up personally.”

…

Silver needles the thickness of fingers pierced into his spiritual veins, only to be stubbornly blocked by the heat sealed within his body like black iron.

Ghostly energy raged arrogantly. In his dream, Su Cheyue once again returned to the purgatory of evil ghosts. Tens of thousands of invisible ghost shadows were devouring him. He lowered his head in the midst of the piercing pain and saw his parents.

“Cheyue, my son.”

“Father, Mother…” Su Cheyue called out in the dream. “I can’t hold on anymore. How about I go down to accompany you?”

“Don’t give up, my child.” It was Xin Yi’s voice. “Live well. Your father and mother want you to live well.”

“My loved ones are gone; what meaning is there in living?” Su Cheyue shook his head like a child. “Father, Mother, my sword is gone. I have nothing left, only a weary reputation that weighs me down so much I can’t breathe.”

“They all want me to win, but no one comes to save me, just like no one saved you back then.”

In the dream, his eyes felt hot and wet. He thought they were tears, but when he touched them, they were bright red.

He was bleeding. It hurt so much.

How was he supposed to keep going?

“That’s not true. I didn’t ‘not save’ you.” He suddenly heard a voice.

“They all said you were dead, but I didn’t believe them. I knew you wouldn’t die. For thirty-three days, I went every day to the place where the ghost prison opens to find you, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even find the entrance.”

“…Father, Mother, what are you saying?”

“Child, your sword isn’t gone; someone has treasured it for you.”

“The way you are now, seeing your sword would make you sad; its power would backfire on you. So, I’ve kept it for you for now. When you’re better, I’ll definitely decorate it beautifully and give it back to you.”

“You don’t have nothing. Look up. Look back.”

“You… open your eyes and look.”

Su Cheyue looked up in the dream and saw a youth in purple, hazy and shimmering, holding his hand, grinning in pain but smiling at him.

“Cheyue, my son. Do you see him?”

“Cheyue… do you hear that?”

He suddenly snapped his eyes open.

His hand was being gently held, and the back of his head rested against a warm, solid place that instantly reminded him of pebbles warmed by the sun. He looked up in surprise. The person holding him hadn’t realized he was awake and stared back at him, stunned.

“You…” Su Cheyue reached out his hand, wanting to touch his eyebrow.

“You’re awake?” Lyu Shurao quickly pulled away, placing him back on the pillow and reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “Does it still hurt?”

Su Cheyue’s heart felt bitter-sweet; he shook his head gently.

Lyu Shurao’s gaze was soft and deep, like kneaded clouds. He laughed softly with a hint of doting and said, “I take back what I said before. The Second Young Master slept very soundly today.”

“I hope every day from now on, you can sleep this soundly.”

“You… have been here the whole time?”

Lyu Shurao said, “Yes.”

Su Cheyue turned his head, his eyelashes drooping, half of his face hidden under the pillow.

Quietly, soundlessly, and successfully, he smiled.

This way, he won’t leave, right?

Seeing him turn away, Lyu Shurao gave a lonely smile.

“While you’re here, you must eat and take your medicine on time. After treatment, rest well. Don’t push yourself if you can’t get out of bed; call someone for help.”

Su Cheyue turned back and looked into his eyes.

“Are you this caring toward everyone?”

Well… probably. He was used to being good to others, used to smiling at others.

“Wasn’t the Second Young Master the same in the past?”

Speaking of which, wasn’t Su Cheyue like this before he was injured? A celestial grace like a spring breeze after rain, like the bright moon in the high sky, shining equally on everyone in the world.

“I can change,” Su Cheyue said. “Will you change?”

He was right. In the later part of the plot, he would become sharp and decisive, even somewhat heartless, because of the humiliation and injuries he had suffered.

The main reason Lyu Shurao had wanted to read this book was largely because he was attracted by the contrast in the character’s personality. He really wanted to know how Su Cheyue went from never refusing anyone to doing things his own way; how he paid back those villains who had once humiliated, suppressed, or taken advantage of him; how he stopped enduring and getting hurt, and how he learned to bravely express his joy, anger, sorrow, and love.

How to love himself, and then how to truly be loved by others.

Lyu Shurao wanted to know because he really wanted to become such a healthy, complete, and transparent person.

However, Lyu Shurao forgot that because of the efforts he had made after transmigrating, he had invisibly warded off many disasters and malice for Su Cheyue.

Inseparable companionship and protection, risking his life to speed up the plot, and even replacing the great hidden danger of the original villain—because the original villain had incited people to bully and obstruct Su Cheyue in every way during his journey to seek medical treatment.

It seemed Su Cheyue no longer had a reason to change.

“I… I don’t know.” Lyu Shurao thought that he would be going back soon, back to his original world. He would likely still be that person who smiled on the outside but was desolate on the inside.

“You rest well. I… I’ll head out first.”

Su Cheyue didn’t catch the underlying meaning: “Mhm.”

He tucked his hair behind his ear for the nth time. Su Cheyue couldn’t help but laugh: “My ears and neck are already fully exposed. What else are you trying to see?”

When he laughed, his phoenix eyes curved even narrower, and the skin beneath his eyes pleated into thin layers like two plump silkworms moving, making Lyu Shurao’s eyes itch.

With this smile, Lyu Shurao couldn’t help but think that perhaps leaving immediately wasn’t so unbearable after all.

He left the East Wing and went to say goodbye to He Zixu one last time.

He Zixu had heard what Tao Xuanxuan said to him. From surprise to understanding: “Is that so…”

Lyu Shurao said, “Do you know why he is doing this?”

“If he is covered in injuries, he can stay…” He Zixu looked up at Lyu Shurao.

If he is covered in injuries, can he keep him?

“What?”

He Zixu remembered Su Cheyue’s later words, “No need to take it to heart,” so he shook his head: “Nothing, the Second Young Master didn’t say anything.”

“Forget it.” Lyu Shurao was extremely helpless. “His thoughts are rarely spoken to others. Sometimes I have to guess for days to understand. How could you know?”

“Regarding A-Tong’s matter, has any progress been made in the questioning?”

“His mother is seriously ill at home, and he learned that domestic servants are dismissed from the manor once they reach sixteen. He was worried he’d have nowhere to go and no source of income, and his mother wouldn’t survive.” Speaking of this, He Zixu felt some self-reproach. “It was because I didn’t explain clearly to him that day; the He Manor would not stand by and do nothing about his mother’s illness. It just so happened that the Second Brother appeared at that time, so he chose another master.”

Lyu Shurao thought for a moment. “That night you refused to take the Night-Sleeping Pill, I saw Miss Tao making him kneel.”

He Zixu sighed: “Zhouzhou [Tao Xuanxuan] only picks children from poor families to enter the manor, and the wages are generous. But you know her personality, especially when it involves me…”

“As for that night, it was my fault.”

Lyu Shurao could understand.

“But why must they be dismissed before they turn sixteen?”

He Zixu smiled: “Zhouzhou said girls are physically weak and can’t take good care of me, so the manor only accepts male servants. Leaving after sixteen… is my selfishness.”

Lyu Shurao understood, yet didn’t quite understand.

“You don’t understand because you don’t yet have your own selfishness.” He Zixu leaned against the head of the bed, his face pale and calm. “Or rather, you haven’t yet seen your own heart clearly.”

Seeing Lyu Shurao become even more confused, he smiled in a friendly yet disappointed way: “Zhouzhou was right; it’s right for you to leave. The human heart is like a hanging sun—sometimes if you’re too close, you can’t see anything clearly.”

“I have no chance of seeing clearly anymore. I hope that next time we meet, you can tell me your answer. Also,” he blinked slightly, “I hope I can hear you call me ‘Zixu’.”

Lyu Shurao felt it in his heart: “I’ll try.”

He would try to find a way to save him.

When he left the He Manor, he was lightly packed. He realized that without Su Cheyue by his side, for the first time, the road felt empty and the wind felt cold. The wind, flowers, snow, and moon all seemed superfluous.

He remembered that he wasn’t originally someone who loved being on the road, let alone seeing the few beautiful sights of winter.

Fortunately, when he came again, it would be spring.

Lyu Shurao took a long stride, turned left out the door, walked briskly, and then—

Got lost.

As mentioned before, the He Manor was secluded. When they came, Tao Xuanxuan led the way, and he had only cared about the wheels of the wheelchair, not paying much attention to landmarks.

He could only brace himself and wander through the streets and alleys until he reached the Bottle-Tear Tree again.

Seeing it in the daytime was different from the night. This tree was like an umbrella blocking out the snowy mountains behind it. It was covered with emerald-green calabash fruits of all sizes, hanging like flowing beads one after another, heavy and solid, not swaying even when the wind blew.

The first month of the lunar year wasn’t over yet, and the area under the tree was bustling. The people of Pingluan Town took advantage of the auspicious festival to gather here, holding the calabash fruits they had treasured for half a year to a year, finally filled with tears.

They queued up to hang them back on the tree and make beautiful wishes or prayers.

People are easily influenced by a group and empathize with them. In this setting, even if Lyu Shurao advocated for “eradicating feudal superstitions,” his steps and gaze softened.

“Big brother!”

Lyu Shurao looked down. A thin, small boy was pulling his sleeve with one hand and holding a small open calabash with the other. Thick hemp ropes were tied to both ends, and there was a faint glimmer of tears inside.

“What is it?” Lyu Shurao wanted to squat but didn’t dare, fearing that any movement would cause the priceless water in the calabash to spill.

“Can you help me hang my Bottle-Tear on the tree?” The little boy looked up. “I’m too small to reach. Grandpa is sick, and Daddy and Mommy aren’t home. No one can help me.”

Hearing this, Lyu Shurao felt a pang in his heart. He asked, “If I help you hang it, will your wish stop being effective?”

The little boy was certain. “No, I come here every time I save up tears. The Bottle-Tear Goddess will remember me. She definitely will.”

Lyu Shurao reached out and patted his head gently: “Okay, I’ll help you hang it. But you have to promise me—every time you come to collect tears in the future, remember to go home, take a hot bath, and sleep well.”

The boy asked, “Why?”

“Because… the Bottle-Tear Goddess likes to visit little kids who smell nice in their dreams. She’ll remember you more clearly.”

“I know now!” He nodded repeatedly and held up his calabash. “Brother, here!”

Lyu Shurao took it carefully, covered the mouth of the bottle with his palm, tapped his foot, and leaped into the tree.

He found a spot that wasn’t too crowded among the dense Bottle-Tears, looked down, and asked, “Is here okay?”

“Yes, brother!”

Lyu Shurao was quick and nimble, tying the hemp ropes on both sides of the bottle mouth firmly to the branch.

Inadvertently, he caught sight of the crooked small characters on it: I hope Grandpa gets out of bed soon, and Daddy and Mommy come back soon so they can sit together and eat all the food I cooked. Xiao Jin’er.

“Done,” Lyu Shurao said softly.

“What a handsome young man. You’re from out of town, aren’t you?”

Lyu Shurao followed the voice. Hanging above him to the right was a heroic middle-aged man whose skin had been turned red by Pingluan’s year-round high sun. “You look good, noble, and your martial arts are great. Does someone like you also have wishes that can’t be fulfilled?”

Lyu Shurao was embarrassed. “Actually—”

“Excuse me, please move aside so I can get down.”

Lyu Shurao gave an affirmative sound, turned his body, and sat on a further thick branch.

“Thanks! When Yun-niang brings my son back, I’ll invite you to my house for dinner! My son should be about the same age as you now, and he should be just as handsome…”

Lyu Shurao nodded politely, listening half-heartedly as he rested his long legs and looked around.

Suddenly, he froze.

A row of Bottle-Tears hung beside him, staggered and orderly, emerald and lush, shining under the winter sun. It was a bit dazzling.

…Did I see that wrong?

His heart was shaken. He turned his head to look at the other side in disbelief—it was the same Bottle-Tear, the same handwriting, the same wish.

The same name.

Front, back, left, and right—some new, some old.

—May Zixu live a thousand years, and may every year meet with spring.

Tao Xuanxuan