Stolen Jade | Chapter 126 | A Visit to the Past | Novela.app

Chapter 127 - A Visit to the Past They huddled together in the back seat, wrapped in a thick blanket, snatching a few moments of fitful sleep. When it was time to set out again, Pei Cangyu still felt a lingering dizziness, his head heavy and his limbs leaden. In stark contrast, Bai Shi appeared perfectly refreshed, his vitality seemingly untouched by the night’s exertions. Pei Cangyu glanced at him, marveling at that monster-like recovery speed. As his eyes drifted upward, he caught sight of two distinct shoe prints on the car’s ceiling. A flush crept up his neck as he recalled exactly how those marks got there—his legs had been hoisted high, his heels digging into the fabric as he braced himself against Bai Shi’s relentless rhythm. He quickly shook the image from his head, scrambled out of the car, and climbed into the passenger seat. *Why didn't I just take my shoes off?* he wondered irritably, trying to regain his composure. By seven-thirty in the morning, they arrived at a sanatorium nestled within a scenic mountain estate. Beyond the facility, the estate extended into a high-end residential community. At this hour, a stream of white-collar workers was already commuting toward the city; Pei Cangyu and Bai Shi were moving against the tide, driving deeper into the quiet greenery. The estate featured its own police post, a testament to its status as a well-developed, affluent area. The environment was pristine, the facilities top-notch. The main entrance to the sanatorium stood open—not a grand gate, but a long, low iron fence wrought in an intricate Baroque style. Beyond it lay a sprawling fountain flanked by manicured green lawns where a few residents strolled at a leisurely, almost stagnant pace. Three main buildings, each roughly twenty stories high, dominated the view. Pei Cangyu initially thought this was the extent of the place, but he caught a glimpse of a shorter, more weathered structure tucked behind the eastern high-rise. Doctors in crisp white coats emerged from the fountain-side building, occasionally followed by family members who spoke in hushed, anxious tones. Bai Shi drove into the underground parking lot. Upon exiting, he bypassed the modern wings entirely, leading Pei toward the older building in the rear. Only then did Pei realize how vast the grounds actually were; this secluded section seemed to house a significant number of people, with doctors and orderlies moving briskly between the shadows. "This is the original site," Bai Shi explained softly. "The buildings in front are all new additions. You could call it the New District." Pei Cangyu nodded, taking in the change in atmosphere. The Old District was only six stories tall and lacked an elevator. As they entered, Pei spotted an elderly man in a wheelchair and felt a pang of confusion—navigating these floors must be an ordeal for the infirm. He had assumed the building was exclusively for the elderly, but he soon realized he was wrong. A young boy in a striped hospital gown ran past them, bouncing a rubber ball that clipped Pei’s leg. Pei looked around for a guardian, but the child was alone. The architecture here was oppressive. The ceilings were unusually low, creating a sense of claustrophobic weight on every floor. The stairwell was ancient; the iron railings were choked with rust, and the red paint on the wooden handrails had peeled away to reveal the sallow, weathered grain beneath. The steps were narrow and uneven, making the climb a tedious, irritating task. Despite the daylight outside, the corridors were dim, the air thick with a stagnant chill. It was a world away from the polished grace of the New District. It was clear why a renovation had been necessary, yet Bai Shi had chosen to keep his father here, in the decaying heart of the old wing. They reached the sixth floor and walked into a central hall spanning about a hundred square meters. Dozens of people were scattered throughout the space, each accompanied by a nurse or a caregiver. Despite the crowd, the hall was eerily silent. As they entered, several heads turned in unison to stare at them. The sudden, vacant intensity of their gazes made Pei flinch instinctively. He looked at Bai Shi, who remained entirely unfazed, and forced himself to keep walking. Bai Shi moved with purpose, clearly knowing his destination. Pei followed a half-step behind, surreptitiously observing the residents. There were men and women of all ages, but they shared a haunting commonality: whenever they spoke, their voices were dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. It felt unnatural, even ghoulish. As they passed a seated woman, she looked up at Pei. For a fleeting second, her vacant eyes flared with a sudden, sharp resentment. Pei recoiled inwardly; the hatred was so visceral yet so misplaced. She turned away just as quickly, her head swiveling aimlessly as her teeth ground together in a silent snarl, until—as if a switch had been flipped—she went still again. *It’s not personal,* Pei realized with a shiver. *It’s the place.* Bai Shi came to a halt, and Pei stopped beside him. Before them, a hunchbacked man with silver hair sat in a wheelchair by the window. A few stray white strands fluttered in the breeze. Crouched by his knees was a little girl, her chin resting on her hands as she played a game of International Chess with the old man. Her moves were chaotic; she would advance a piece, change her mind, retract it, and giggle whenever she made a mistake. The man didn't scold her. He simply laughed—a warm, gentle sound. It reminded Pei of Bai Shi’s voice, though it was an octave lower and lacked the sharp, cold edge. The girl noticed the newcomers and gasped, dropping her chess piece. The old man stirred, leaning down with great effort to retrieve it for her. His movements were shaky, his fingers trembling as he carefully placed the piece back on the board. Only then did he follow the girl’s gaze and slowly turn his head. Bai Shi stepped forward, gripping the handles of the wheelchair to turn it fully toward them. He offered a rare, genuine smile. "Dad." Pei Cangyu finally saw the man’s face clearly. His hair was a shock of pure silver, and though he looked to be in his sixties, his features remained sharp and aristocratic despite his gauntness. He wore silver-rimmed spectacles over eyes that were dim but kind. He sat in the wheelchair, but his frame suggested he had once been a tall, imposing man. Now, his trouser legs hung empty and limp—a double amputee. His skin had a sallow, yellowish tint, the telltale sign of extreme, rapid weight loss. "Hello, sir," Pei said instinctively, his voice polite. The man smiled and pointed to his ears. Pei noticed small, white devices tucked into them—hearing aids. "He can't hear," Bai Shi said. "Oh..." Pei nodded understandingly. "Can you teach me some sign language then?" "I don't know any," Bai Shi replied flatly. The man tilted his head back to look up at Bai Shi. As he moved, Pei caught sight of the man’s neck—it was a map of jagged, puckered scar tissue. "You've come," the man said. Pei was startled. "He can talk?" Bai Shi nodded. "He’s only deaf, not mute." The little girl scrambled around from behind Bai Shi and dove into the man’s lap, burying her face in his chest. She tugged at his clothes, silently pleading for the game to continue. The man looked at Pei and then at Bai Shi with a helpless, apologetic smile. "She only arrived two months ago." Bai Shi nodded. He reached out, grabbing the girl by the back of her collar to pull her away, but she only clung tighter to the old man. "Wait..." Pei stepped forward, intervening before Bai Shi could get rough. "Let me try?" Bai Shi glanced at him and stepped back. Pei crouched beside the girl. "Hey... how about I play with you for a bit?" The girl peeked out at him with one eye. Pei continued softly, "This big brother needs to talk to his dad for a minute. Once they’re done, he’ll come back and play. Until then, is it okay if I take his spot?" The girl looked up at the old man. He gave her an encouraging nod, and she finally sat up, retreating toward the chessboard. Pei exhaled in relief. He was surprised by how gentle Bai Shi’s father seemed. In truth, Pei didn't know the first thing about International Chess; he was planning to wing it based on the few games of Chinese Chess he’d played with the old men in his neighborhood back home. Bai Shi and his father didn't go far, moving just a few paces away to talk. From a distance, they looked like a picture of filial piety. Pei stole glances at them as he moved his pawns aimlessly, noting that Bai Shi was smiling more than usual. It eased a knot in Pei’s chest; he had always assumed Bai Shi’s relationship with his father was fraught with the same darkness that defined the rest of the Bai family. After two rounds of nonsensical moves, a nurse arrived to inform the girl that her family had come to visit. The girl took the nurse’s hand, looking back longingly. She ran back one last time to hug the old man before finally disappearing down the hall. Bai Shi watched her leave, his eyes narrowed as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Bai Yilong turned back to explain, "Someone tried to steal her food earlier. I shared some of mine with her." "Is that so?" Bai Shi smiled thinly and beckoned Pei over. As Pei approached, Bai Shi made the introduction. "This is Pei Cangyu." Bai Yilong watched Bai Shi’s lips intently as he spoke, deciphering the words. He then turned his gaze toward Pei. "So, you are Pei Cangyu." The way he said it made the name sound significant, as if it carried a weight Pei wasn't aware of. Feeling suddenly bashful, Pei blurted out like a broken record, "I am indeed Pei Cangyu." Bai Shi: "..." A caregiver approached them, nodding to Bai Shi and saying a few words. Pei couldn't quite catch the meaning, and Bai Yilong didn't even look in the caregiver's direction. It seemed there was some administrative matter that required Bai Shi’s attention. Bai Shi looked at Pei, hesitating to leave him alone. Bai Yilong smiled kindly, sensing the awkwardness. He turned to Pei with a considerate tone. "Would you care to take a walk with me? It’s about that time anyway." Pei nodded quickly. Bai Shi saw them to the door before heading off with the caregiver. Pei moved behind the wheelchair, gripping the handles firmly. "Which way, sir?" The old man raised his right hand slightly, pointing. "This way." He chuckled softly. "Don't be so nervous, young man." Pei thought to himself, *How can I not be nervous?* His relationship with Bai Shi was impossible to explain in a few words. But there was one thing he desperately wanted to know: did this peaceful, gentle old man have any idea about Bai Shi’s condition, or the life he led? As if reading Pei’s mind, the old man suggested they sit by the pond. The pond was designed in a traditional garden style, featuring a central pavilion and a school of vibrant red fish darting through the water. Pei watched them intently, eventually spotting a few yellow ones. *Oh, goldfish,* he realized. He was so focused on the fish that it took him a moment to realize he was being watched. He turned his head sheepishly and met the old man’s meaningful gaze and faint smile. Pei’s face burned. He felt as though he had just translated that expression into a very specific subtext: *So, you're the one who made off with my son.* He quickly adjusted the wheelchair and sat stiffly on a nearby stone bench. Pei couldn't help but feel like this was a formal meeting with an in-law. His mind was suddenly flooded with scenes from television dramas about negotiating dowries and bride prices. He blamed his overactive imagination on too many soap operas. "Ahem. If you don't talk to me, an old man gets quite lonely," Bai Yilong said with a playful hint of reproach. He took off his glasses and tucked them into a small case in his pocket. Pei scratched his head, feeling genuinely rude. "Um..." Pei thought for a moment. "Bai Shi and I were classmates in middle school." The old man watched his lips, then nodded. "I know." Before Pei could respond, the man continued, "You're a good kid." Pei’s heart gave a sudden, violent thud. Hearing such a simple compliment from this man made him feel strangely, overwhelmingly embarrassed.