Chapter 121

Chapter 121: He Couldn't Wait. Gan Qiongying couldn't understand what was happening with Lihua. Why was he crying so suddenly? Standing opposite Lihua, she watched him tremble violently all over, feeling utterly bewildered. "What's wrong with you?" "Is it because the weather is changing tonight, and your leg hurts?" Apart from that, Gan Qiongying couldn't think of any other reason. Moreover, Lihua appeared to be in "too much pain"—he was even clutching his leg, bending over, his back arched as if he might collapse to the ground and faint at any moment. And indeed, Lihua was suffering. This pain did not come from his body but from his soul. He carried a scar carved into him from birth by his own father and mother—a scar that stretched from his disabled left leg all the way to his heart. Even though time had passed, even though the surface of the scar had long been covered by fresh flesh and blood, seemingly healed, no one but Lihua knew that this scar was connected to his soul. For years, it had never stopped festering and rotting. Every time he saw others running, every time he saw others riding horses or shooting arrows, every time he saw others steadily holding their loved ones' hands as they crossed the street, the scar would bleed anew, refusing to heal, as fresh as ever. Especially after seeing Zhongli Zhengzhen—this younger brother who was born after him but was never abandoned because he was naturally strong—Lihua felt his very heart begin to mold and twist. This resentment and self-loathing clung to him like a bone-deep poison, coursing through his body, gnawing at his soul, his health, his spirit, his fleeting happiness, and everything he had left. But at this moment, clutching his leg, he was in so much pain he nearly knelt. He stared fixedly at his leg, as if he could see through the intact clothing to the scar beneath—the festering scar hidden beneath "healthy" skin and flesh, which Gan Qiongying had just torn open. Now it was oozing pus, dripping with filthy blood, the rotting flesh and maggots falling away in clumps. Lihua couldn't hear anything, couldn't see anything. He only stared at his left leg, unable to believe that one day, someone would suddenly rip open the wound he had so carefully concealed, performing a "debridement" for him. The process of debridement was undoubtedly painful, and Gan Qiongying was the blade that could cut away all the filth. Lihua instinctively feared her, avoided her. That was why he had been avoiding Gan Qiongying—because he was utterly unprepared. He had never imagined... that Gan Qiongying would celebrate his birthday just for him, let alone that she would give him such a birthday gift. Throughout his life, Lihua had received countless birthday gifts, amassing rare treasures from across the land, but no one had ever performed such a miracle—giving him a "healthy" leg. Her slender frame and shoulders effortlessly overturned his world, rewinding and resetting it. In just these two short months, Lihua had already staked everything on her, treating her as family. He thought this was the limit. He couldn't even be sure that if he truly confessed everything and asked, Gan Qiongying would be willing to become his family. Lihua was always timid and hesitant, always caught in a dilemma, always struggling to move forward. Yet all those worries, all those difficult choices, seemed to have crumbled like a sandcastle in the few steps he had just taken, effortlessly washed away into ruins by the storm named "Gan Qiongying." Tears still streamed down Lihua's face, but he braced his own legs and trembled with laughter. At first, it was a low, muffled chuckle caught in his throat, but it soon grew wild, hoarse, and even unrestrainedly bold. He felt like a horse that had galloped thousands of miles, utterly exhausted. He had no master, no origin, and no destination. He had been running endlessly until someone stopped him and said, "Stop. Your legs are injured. You can run no more. This is your home." Lihua stopped. He slowly raised his head. He straightened his posture, his muddied eyes fixed on Gan Qiongying. Then, his flesh and bones, his skin and sinews, all melted into two streams of hot tears in his eyes, condensing into a sudden storm that poured down toward Gan Qiongying. "San Jiu! What are you still staring at? Go find someone... Where's Chen Wa? Chen Wa, get two people over here to carry the Consort back to the room! Manyue, Manyue, hurry and call the mansion physician!" Gan Qiongying was somewhat flustered, her words tumbling out incoherently. She reached out to support Lihua's arm, not noticing the look in his eyes, while her other hand kept patting his back. Frantically giving orders to the servants, she comforted Lihua, "It's alright, it's alright... It'll be over soon..." Gan Qiongying didn't even know what was wrong with Lihua. She was simply comforting him instinctively, instinctively infected by the "pain" radiating from him, her heart trembling with fear and her mind in disarray. But Lihua quickly grabbed her wrist, his grip firm. He pulled Gan Qiongying not toward the Main Courtyard but toward the carriage. He couldn't wait. Just as Gan Qiongying had been eager to show him the birthday gift, eager for him to wear these specially made shoes and walk like a normal person, so eager that she couldn't even wait until they returned to the room. Lihua pulled Gan Qiongying along swiftly, his steps steady as a mountain, as if he had never had any disability, as if he had been born with a pair of healthy legs. He knew how to use them and how to make them move faster, so he could reach his goal as quickly as possible. Now it was Gan Qiongying who stumbled along. She was utterly confused, not understanding why Lihua was suddenly crying and laughing, nor where he was pulling her. Following behind him, she was dragged along unsteadily by the usually gentle Lihua, thinking that the God of Wealth was angry. She even racked her brains, wondering where she had offended the God of Wealth. Had she touched a nerve again? Could it be... that the gift made Lihua think she looked down on him for his limp? Gan Qiongying was pulled by Lihua to the side of the carriage. Lihua climbed onto the carriage first, and Gan Qiongying was dragged along by him. His grip was too strong, his urgency almost bursting from his body. If not for a shred of decorum and face, he wouldn't have even bothered with the act of boarding the carriage. Gan Qiongying was nearly pulled flat onto the carriage shaft. When the two finally boarded the carriage, the horses grew restless, stamping in place and causing the vehicle to sway back and forth. Gan Qiongying was thrown directly onto the soft cushions inside. Lihua, having stumbled just a moment before her, had already fallen onto the cushions as well—right beneath her.