Echoes of Lotus District | Chapter 21 | The Wounded Beast | Novela.app

Yu Mo was halfway up the stairs when she belatedly heard the hurried footsteps coming from below. In the dim stairwell, the sound was jarringly abrupt. The hair on her arms stood on end. She quickened her pace, wanting to rush upward. She only managed to climb two more steps before a man charging from behind firmly seized her arm. A scream caught in her throat, unuttered, as she was wrenched around by her arm. Her panic-stricken face came level with Qi Lian’s. Beads of sweat hung from Qi Lian’s forehead, and his ragged breathing sounded like thunder in the quiet stairwell. His usually cold eyes were spitting fire. He was like a wounded beast that had just crashed through a dense jungle—breathless, every muscle in his body coiled and ready to strike. Yu Mo was dwarfed by his tall frame. His scorching breath fanned across her face, and his large, heavy hand gripped her arm with a deathly vice. Yu Mo felt her head spin; the lack of oxygen made her feel as if she might faint at any moment. She tried to pry his fingers off with her hand, but they wouldn't budge. Qi Lian’s fingers were scalding hot. "It hurts," she cried out, her voice tinged with irritation. "Do you have nothing to say?" Qi Lian stared at her, enunciating every word. "No," Yu Mo said, her tone neither light nor heavy. Qi Lian grabbed her other arm. Holding both of them, his posture was so aggressive he nearly lifted her off the ground. "No?" he demanded. "No? You came to provoke me—are you just playing with me?" Yu Mo felt as if she were about to lose consciousness. She lashed out with a kick, landing it squarely on him. Qi Lian didn't even flinch; his expression looked as though he wished she would kick him again. "Qi Lian," Yu Mo called his name helplessly. His expression and his stance made her feel like a toy that was about to be dismantled. "You’re seen everywhere with Zhang Qingfeng. You let him tell others you’re his woman. Have you slept with him?" Ignoring her struggles, he asked the question through gritted teeth. The pain made Yu Mo exceptionally angry. She no longer had the energy to care about what he was saying. She looked into Qi Lian’s eyes and told him, "If you don't let go right now, I will never say another word to you again." The corner of Qi Lian’s eye twitched. "Why should I give a damn about another man's woman?" he said savagely. Yet, his hands finally released her arms. Yu Mo rubbed her throbbing, burning arms and turned to leave. As she walked away, she tossed back a single sentence: "It’s late. Go back and get some rest." Qi Lian stood rooted to the spot, panting. He looked up, watching Yu Mo grow further and further away until she turned a corner and vanished up the stairs. He could only hear the *clack-clack-clack* of her high heels, a sound that made his heart ache with every vibration. "I never said I was unwilling," he said toward the direction she had gone, his voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible. He heard the sound of Yu Mo’s door closing, then turned to head downstairs. The alcohol he had consumed churned in his stomach. His head was buzzing, and his body felt too heavy to drag along. After forcing himself down two steps, he couldn't go any further. He slumped down onto the stairs. The motion-sensor light in the stairwell flickered out. Only a faint glimmer of light filtered in through a tiny window by the landing. From someone’s apartment, a television blared too loudly, the rising and falling tones of dialogue drifting out. For many years, he thought he had finally managed to stand firmly in this world on his own two feet—without trepidation, without fear, and without relying on anyone. It turned out to be an illusion. As soon as this person moved a single finger, everything he thought was rock-solid turned to ash. He sat for a while with his head leaning against the cold banister until his phone began to ring. In the silent stairwell, it sounded like a clap of thunder. Qi Shuai’s voice came loudly through the phone. "Brother, where are you? You’re not home?" Qi Lian felt exhausted, lacking even the strength to speak. He forced out a question: "What is it?" "I was just worried about you, so I came to check. Why aren't you home yet?" "It’s nothing. I’m coming home now. You go back." Qi Shuai persisted. "Where are you? I’ll come find you." "Qi Shuai, I’m tired. I don't want to talk. Go back!" Qi Shuai was currently standing at the entrance of the opposite building. He paced in circles, frantic, his handsome brow furrowed as he shouted, "Brother, I really can't stand seeing you like this. Dammit, what’s the big deal? It’s just one woman! Just snatch her back! I don't believe for a second you’re inferior to Zhang Qingfeng. He just has a few more years of schooling than you—what else does he have to compare with you? Jiang Yuan and the others have to worry about saving face for their 'brothers,' but I don't give a damn!" "Qi Shuai," Qi Lian interrupted him. "He has a few more years of schooling than me. That point alone is a mountain I will never be able to cross in my lifetime. In the eyes of others, I don't even have the right to be considered. Do you understand?" Qi Shuai didn't understand. His brother was handsome, capable, and could make money. What kind of woman would be blind enough to look down on him? Who would prefer that pedantic, four-eyed dog? But hearing his brother speak this way, he fell silent. The sky was a deep blue, streaked with wisps of white clouds. The moon hid behind them, and there wasn't a breath of wind. By the time Jiang Lai called, Qi Lian had been standing on his balcony for three or four hours, staring up at the sky. He looked at the dark windows on the fourth floor of the opposite building, wondering if she was already asleep. His body was exhausted, but his consciousness seemed to have a mind of its own, refusing to let him sleep. "I heard a few things, Qi Lian," Jiang Lai said over the phone. "Mm." Neither spoke, falling into silence. Both possessed reserved personalities, unlike the straightforward nature of Jiang Yuan and the others. "Qi Lian... no matter what you do, I'm sure you have your reasons. You’ve never been one to act recklessly." Jiang Lai chose his words carefully. "She doesn't want me, Jiang Lai," Qi Lian suddenly blurted out. Jiang Lai felt as if the world had suddenly gone silent. The hum of the air conditioner in his room, the whispers from the nurses' station outside—everything vanished. This was Qi Lian. The Qi Lian who had lost his father at a young age, who had single-handedly supported his sick mother and held a household together, who had never uttered a single word of weakness. He didn't know what to say. "If only I were you," Qi Lian added. Jiang Lai’s heart felt as though it had been struck by a sudden blow. He gripped the pen he had been using to write medical records all night until it pressed painfully into his palm. This moment had finally come—the subtle tension between them as men. They had grown up together, and among their group of friends, they had once been the two most kindred spirits. Qi Lian had always been slightly ahead of him—smarter, better grades, more popular, even a bit taller. They had discussed their dreams countless times after school, yet they ended up living completely different lives. Jiang Lai often felt a sense of guilt, even a sense of culpability, as if he had stolen someone else's life. But they had always avoided the subject. Hearing Qi Lian say those words broke his heart. Fate was unfair to Qi Lian, and he himself was a constant reminder of that divine injustice. He might have secretly hoped Qi Lian could let it go, but who truly could? He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke the words that had been buried in his heart for so long they had almost turned moldy, words he thought would never see the light of day. "Qi Lian, of all the people I know, no one compares to you. No matter what happened in the past, you deserve the best person and the best life. You are worthy of anyone." After hurriedly hanging up, the promising young doctor covered his face with his hands, letting tears stream down his cheeks. He could never forget the sight of Qi Lian’s back as he left school for the last time. He could never forget that summer, seeing that same silhouette weeping by the river. He had witnessed a youth being ruthlessly trampled by fate, and he had been powerless to help, leaving him filled with a lifelong sense of debt.