Weakness Trap - Chapter 48

It was like a volcanic eruption. First came the violent smoke and dust, scorching Yu Lingxue’s heart and lungs, making it hard for her to breathe. She gasped rapidly, tears streaming from her eyes as she choked.

Then came the thick, billowing smoke dark and overwhelming, blotting out the sky and burying the last remnants of sustenance within her, dragging her down into the depths.

Yu Lingxue gradually recovered from her coughing fit, but the pain had taken root inside her, like polluted air persistent and pervasive.

From head to toe, not a single part of her was spared.

She was like a drowning person who had finally taken a gasp of air, expelling all the water that had invaded her lungs.

Only to realize that the air was tainted with poison, and she had already inhaled it.

All that remained was an unending, burning sensation, slowly tormenting her body and mind.

One day, seven days.

After Yu Lingxue emerged from the suffocating death of her former self, she could never escape its shadow.

When she lay in bed, receiving IV drips and taking medication, the pain harassed her like a mischievous child poking her with a stick not fatal, leaving no wounds, yet aching and itching, with no way to relieve it.

When she sat up to eat, the pain whispered beside her, like some mythical, incomprehensible presence murmuring indistinct ravings sometimes loud, sometimes soft, chaotic and unbearable, yet terrifying.

When Yu Yueheng took her out for a walk, the pain followed her like an inescapable shadow, mocking her from the darkness, taunting her misery. She couldn’t ignore it; whenever she closed her eyes, the shadow would creep up her back.

Three weeks later, Yu Lingxue grew accustomed to the pain.

The pain felt like a mark a delusion that Yu Qingluan was still there.

As long as she felt the pain, she knew she still remembered Yu Qingluan, that she hadn’t lost her sanity or descended into chaos.

She didn’t want to grow numb or ignorant. She abandoned her body’s self-preservation, rejected a life where she felt nothing no joy, and of course, no sorrow.

She wanted to feel the pain clearly, to atone through suffering, to wander in the mortal world, spending the remaining years hating those who deserved hatred and accomplishing what needed to be done.

Yu Lingxue thought she would eventually join Yu Qingluan.

In this way, it offered some small comfort.

Gradually, Yu Lingxue regained some strength. When she came to her senses, she realized she had already returned to Harbor City.

Yu Lingxue stared blankly out the window. There was no woman bent over her embroidery, no lover immersed in her studies, and certainly no Yu Qingluan walking toward her with a smile.

Only autumn maple trees, not yet tinged with red, still bearing a youthful green, swaying in the wind.

“Mom.” Yu Lingxue turned her head and saw Yu Yueheng.

She was almost twenty-three years old. These past few months had been the closest she had ever been with her mother.

Whenever something happened, Yu Lingxue instinctively sought out Yu Yueheng.

“What is it?” Yu Yueheng stroked Yu Lingxue’s hair, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes filled with tenderness and concern.

“I want to go to the temple,” Yu Lingxue said, missing Yu Qingluan.

Having sought help from herself and others, in the end, Yu Lingxue began turning to gods and Buddha.

This wasn’t the first time she had sought Buddha’s aid.

After buying the tickets, Yu Lingxue followed Yu Yueheng, holding her hand, as they slowly moved with the crowd toward the temple. She recalled the last time she had come to pray to Buddha.

It was a long time ago.

The last time she visited, it was this same temple. She was around elementary school age, having just returned to the Yu family and begun studying medicine.

At the time, it seemed one of her first teacher’s patients couldn’t be saved.

Yu Lingxue watched the patient grow increasingly emaciated, tormented by illness until they were barely recognizable as human.

She saw how, despite a clear will to live and a desire to continue on, their life slowly slipped away.

The last time Yu Lingxue saw them was in a small box.

That patient had written letters to both her first teacher and to her.

It was after reading those letters that Yu Lingxue resolved to master medicine.

Back then, she wanted to save everyone. She wanted to help those in pain, just as someone had once saved her when she was born prematurely.

So she came to this temple, to pray to the Buddha not for herself, but for others.

Now, as Yu Lingxue climbed the steps one by one, doubt clouded her heart.

Should she really continue sacrificing herself for others?

What had she gained?

It seemed that after losing Yu Qingluan, the gratitude of recovering patients and the satisfaction of saving lives no longer mattered.

Only Yu Qingluan mattered.

But she couldn’t find Yu Qingluan.

Yu Lingxue lifted her heavy legs and took another step up.

This was the largest temple in Harbor City. It had many halls, spread out and built high.

The path to seeking the Buddha must be walked with sincerity and endured through hardship.

So before paying respects to the Buddha, everyone had to climb the mountain.

Yu Lingxue was no exception.

She took a step, then paused. The persistent pain drained more of her strength than others, allowing her to climb only half the height most could manage.

Yet she refused to stop.

In the past, after praying to the Buddha, her medical skills had truly advanced.

If she prayed now, could she receive news of Yu Qingluan?

At the very least, perhaps she could send a message to Yu Qingluan, wherever they were.

She just wanted to say she was sorry.

Just once would be enough.

But she still had half a mountain to climb before reaching the Buddha.

Leaning on the railing, Yu Lingxue gasped for breath.

Her feet felt heavy.

As heavy as waterlogged quilts. Weighing a thousand pounds, making her wish she could chop off these useless sticks.

But her arms were heavy too, too weak to lift, barely able to muster the strength to grip the railing.

Her head was heavy, weighed down, forcing her to look at the ground, seeing only the path beneath her feet.

Her body was heavy. Her organs felt like dead weight inside her, shattered and clattering in her abdomen, radiating pain.

Yu Lingxue wanted to breathe, but she lacked even the strength to inhale.

Forced to keep her head bowed, her arms trembled, struggling to keep her from collapsing.

She could only stare at her feet, tentatively taking one step.

Then another.

Then the gray stone beneath her turned red, and Yu Lingxue watched in shock as drops of blood fell to the ground.

She looked up.

The sky wasn’t weeping blood.

She touched the corner of her mouth, then finally her nose.

It was her, bleeding.

Yu Yueheng rushed over with an ice pack and tissues, cradling her face.

“Maybe we should go back?” Yu Yueheng looked at her daughter, heart aching.

“I’ll pray for you,” she said, thinking Yu Lingxue was seeking good health.

But Yu Lingxue insisted on standing.

When she couldn’t stand, she fell, then crawled on her knees, determined to keep going.

Reluctantly, Yu Yueheng supported her, handing her the cane she had just bought.

“I must get up there ” Yu Lingxue became obsessed.

This was likely her closest chance to Yu Qingluan.

If she gave up now,

how could she ever face regret, or love?

Gritting her teeth, amid the temple’s choking incense smoke and her blurred vision, Yu Lingxue slowly, truly, crawled to the top.

It took her half a day to reach the first temple.

Without resting afterward, she lined up and knelt in worship before the Buddha.

She prayed for the Buddha to let her see Yu Qingluan.

Even if only in a dream.

She prayed for the Buddha to protect Yu Qingluan.

Even if in the underworld.

She prayed for fate, for a chance to undo her regrets.

Finally, she confessed her sins to the Buddha. She had made too many mistakes even ten kowtows could not atone for them all.

The towering Buddha statue was coated in golden light. Worn gray bronze, tinged with verdigris, added to its solemn majesty.

Yu Lingxue looked up and saw the Buddha’s compassionate eyes, not fixed on any one person but gazing into the distance, watching over all.

Yu Lingxue lowered her head. The intricate patterns of the lotus throne imprinted themselves in her eyes, carrying the scent of incense smoke, making her feel even more wretched.

She was a sinner. She deserved to suffer in this temple.

She wanted to beg for forgiveness, to ask for one more chance.

She also deserved to be tormented by the solemn chants of the Buddha, to wear away her sins through penance.

In the end, Yu Lingxue kowtowed one last time with such force that a bruise bloomed on her scalp. Startled, Yu Yueheng disregarded propriety and rushed forward to pull her away.

In the end, Yu Lingxue had only worshipped one Buddha. She had asked for forgiveness just once.

The journey back was no easier. Time and again, she nearly stumbled, yet amid the haze of incense and dust, she rose again and continued on her way.

By the time she finally made it home, it was already midnight.

After washing up, Yu Lingxue collapsed onto the bed and closed her eyes.

In her dreams, the scent of temple incense lingered, mingling with the smell of earthy dust, accompanied by the chaotic murmurs of sutras.

The ethereal chants of Sanskrit drifted from afar, growing closer, yet remaining elusive and intangible—like colorless, odorless air, filling the entire space.

Yu Lingxue felt as though she were in a paradise, yet upon closer inspection, there was only endless whiteness, pure emptiness.

She knew it was a dream, yet her heartbeat quickened faintly.

She had wished to see Yu Qingluan. She thought, even if she could catch just one more glimpse of Yu Qingluan, even if only in a dream.

Would it come true?

Yu Lingxue wanted to step forward but found her limbs frozen.

She wanted to stay and wait, yet she felt the weight of the Buddhist chants pressing down on her shoulders.

The majestic chants layered upon one another, reverberating through Yu Lingxue’s mind.

The overwhelming volume dizzied her consciousness.

She began to grow disoriented, lost in confusion.

Then, a clear, sharp voice struck her like a bell.

“You’ve prayed to the wrong person!”

Yu Lingxue’s eyes snapped open, and she spat out a mouthful of blood, as if her organs had been shattered by that rebuke, smoke seeming to rise from her seven orifices.

Choking, the taste of blood lingered in her throat, as though a hole had been torn in her windpipe, the metallic tang surging upward relentlessly.

Her mind remained filled with the suffocating Buddhist chants, the stench of incense offered by devotees, and that soul-shaking reprimand.

You’ve prayed to the wrong person.

Prayed to the wrong person.

You were wrong.

After a long while, Yu Lingxue finally caught her breath and tossed the bloodstained quilt to the floor.

Then, feeling cold, she curled up on the ground, slowly picked up the quilt, wrapped it around herself, and huddled into a pitiful ball.

She knew she had prayed to the wrong person.

She shouldn’t have prayed to the Buddha. Nor should she have hoped for a miracle.

But the one she should have prayed to… was already gone.

Yu Lingxue curled up, small and lonely, as tears fell, one by one.

The constant, dull ache, mingled with the Buddhist chants, reshaped her sinful body.

From that day on, she would never know peaceful sleep again.

Two months later.

“Are you feeling better?” Yu Yueheng held a bowl of food, scooping a spoonful to feed Yu Lingxue.

Yu Lingxue took the spoon and began to eat slowly on her own.

Yu Yueheng felt that Yu Lingxue had improved somewhat.

After visiting the temple, Yu Lingxue had not been quite herself.

She often drifted into a daze, lost in thought. When spoken to, she seemed not to hear; standing before her, it was as if she had lost her sight. She didn’t even eat properly and had to be fed.

Today, for the first time in two months, Yu Yueheng saw a different expression on Yu Lingxue’s face as she actively took the bowl and chopsticks.

“What did the Yan family say?” Over the past two months, Yu Lingxue had pondered deeply.

She had accepted this symbiotic relationship and the pain of losing her beloved. She couldn’t accept the fact that Yu Qingluan was gone, and she would keep striving.

But she could no longer afford to lose her mind over it.

She restrained her emotions, refusing to descend into madness and forget Yu Qingluan’s existence.

At the same time, she reflected on her past and future, contemplating what she should do.

“No wedding ceremony,” Yu Yueheng said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear, her heart aching at the sight of her gaunt face.

“She agreed just like that?” Yu Lingxue, of course, had no desire to hold a ceremony with her either.

Having not seen her for so long, Yu Lingxue wasn’t missing Yan Lanshen she simply feared that the woman might be scheming behind the scenes, leaving her in the dark, unaware.

“I fought for it. Or perhaps your previous actions might have stirred a bit of conscience in her.”

Yu Lingxue set down her spoon and couldn’t help but let out a scornful laugh.

“Her? A conscience?” She genuinely laughed aloud.

Then, Yu Yueheng placed her hand on Yu Lingxue’s head, and the near-frenzied smile on Yu Lingxue’s lips faded.

For a moment, she seemed lost in thought, but eventually, she snapped back to reality.

“Anyway, Jian Xi has been relocated by my sister and me. I took you to Chu City to hide for ten days to half a month, and no one came after us. As for the rest whether to proceed with the divorce immediately, what you discussed before it’s all up to you to decide.” Yu Yueheng let out a deep sigh of relief.

Her daughter had pulled through.

She could communicate normally with others again.

Her previous state had been truly heartbreaking and left Yu Yueheng feeling helpless.

“In a few days,” Yu Lingxue replied, still exhausted.

Divorce was inevitable. She would rather remain a widow for Yu Qingluan than have anything to do with Yan Lanshen.

As for the cooperation they had discussed,

She had thought of a way to deal with Yu Qingyuan.

In the past, she had cherished her reputation and cared deeply for her patients and family.

But now, she didn’t even care about herself. Why bother with so many considerations?

Without those restraints, everything became clear and simple.

It seemed there was no need to cooperate with Yan Lanshen after all.

Yu Lingxue took a few sips of porridge and then chuckled softly to herself.

How foolish she had been before unforgivably stupid.

She had always believed in treating others with kindness, in being benevolent.

She had thought saving lives was important, that others mattered.

Even those who were insignificant, who couldn’t be her friends or her patients she felt she ought to help them, to save them.

But after a lifetime of accumulating virtue and doing good, in the end, the Buddha did not save her.

No one came to her rescue; instead, they harmed her.

In the end, she couldn’t even save herself.

She couldn’t save the one she should have loved most.

Who could she save now? Who should she save?

How foolish.

Yu Lingxue thought of Yu Qingluan again of the expression on her face as she tore up the carefully embroidered confession letter, of the fire she had arrived too late to stop.

Her expression grew somber, her eyes trembling with sorrow.

Her heart still ached for Yu Qingluan. She was still filled with regret.

The one she should have cherished and loved most she had lost her through her own actions.

She had countless ways she could have kept her.

Countless choices to resolve that crisis.

There were countless opportunities to love Yu Qingluan properly.

But she didn’t seize a single one.

She deserved it. Deserved to feel this miserable, this tormented.

Deserved to spend her whole life thinking of Yu Qingluan, deserved to never escape this pain.

How I miss Yu Qingluan.

Yu Lingxue walked through the courtyard, gazing blankly at the surrounding scenery.

This was Yu Yueheng’s private property, a house bought secretly without the Yu family’s knowledge. Now it was home to her and her mother.

No annoying Yan Lanshen or Yan Wenying, no hateful Yu Qingyuan or the current family head.

Only clusters of faintly yellow leaves tumbling in the early autumn breeze.

Yu Lingxue reached out and caught a leaf, feeling it flutter in the wind, stroking it, trembling lightly along with it.

Then she snapped the leaf.

Yu Lingxue played with the leaf in her palm.

What a pitiful leaf. Its life severed by her.

But did she truly feel sorry for it?

An unintentional smile crept onto Yu Lingxue’s lips bizarre, chilling.

It seemed she had always been blinded by some kind of righteous upbringing.

Was her true nature perhaps the same as Yu Qingyuan and the others?

After all, they shared similar blood.

Yu Lingxue tossed the leaf to the ground, a faint, elusive smile curling her lips as she stepped over it.

She crushed it into the soil without a backward glance.

“Buy me a diary, and get me two capable secretaries.”

Yu Lingxue threw on her coat, entered the house, and made her final request to Yu Yueheng.