Chapter Thirty-Six: The Little Boy

Page 1 of 3

"Cui Yue, I'm sorry. It's my fault you got into trouble," Yang Liu said, her voice trembling with tears.

Cui Yue deliberately looked left and right, avoiding her gaze. "Are you out of your mind? What are you talking about?"

"Cui Yue, I know everything now. You, last night..."

Cui Yue's heart skipped a beat. His mind raced, and in an instant, he understood. He cursed under his breath, "That damn Zhang Hao, such a gossip. He ought to be sent to the Hell of Tongue Extraction for a good reformation."

"What?" Yang Liu asked.

"Nothing," Cui Yue replied gruffly.

Yang Liu reached out and gently rolled up Cui Yue’s sleeve, wanting to see how bad his injury was.

Cui Yue quickly pulled away with an excuse, saying, "Don’t listen to Zhang Hao’s nonsense. He exaggerates everything. I’m fine, just a little scrape, that’s all."

Hearing this, Yang Liu’s nose tingled and two tears slipped down her cheeks, her heart aching.

"Cui Yue, from now on, please don't get involved in my matters anymore. And don’t go provoking Feng Tao again, alright?" Yang Liu suddenly seemed to muster great courage. She gently tugged at the corner of Cui Yue’s shirt, pleading.

For some reason, hearing Yang Liu’s words made Cui Yue’s chest ache sharply, as if it were being torn apart. A restless, burning irritation overtook him.

Cui Yue coldly brushed off Yang Liu’s hand, his voice low. "My affairs have nothing to do with you. As for Feng Tao, things are far from over between us."

With that, he walked away without looking back, never glancing at Yang Liu again.

Page 2 of 3

Yang Liu stood alone, staring blankly at Cui Yue’s receding figure, her heart wracked with pain. She wanted to say something, but the words caught in her throat, and she could only weep in silence.

After work, Cui Yue didn’t go home. He didn’t know what was wrong with him—disappointment, anger, anxiety, a tangle of emotions. As dusk fell, he wandered aimlessly through the streets, directionless, as though there was a gaping hole in his chest.

He came upon a small convenience store, bought a bottle of cheap liquor, tucked it under his arm, and drank as he walked. Before he knew it, he’d reached the banks of the Wei River, following the embankment farther and farther. The bottle was soon empty.

In a sudden burst, Cui Yue hurled the bottle into the river, sending up a spray of water. Then he shouted at the river with all his might, "Ahhh—ahhh—ahhh—"

Again and again, he screamed, as if pouring all his sorrow, his frustration, his anger, his depression into the rushing Wei River. At last, spent and breathless, he slumped onto the embankment, gazing at the yellowed water, his thoughts restless, feeling both defeated and desolate.

The night breeze by the river grew colder, and the rush of water grew ever clearer. Cui Yue didn’t know how long he sat there, sunk in a nameless dejection, a crushing sense of failure.

Suddenly, a phrase came to him: Live in the moment, to hell with the rest. The thought seemed to shed a little light. He stretched, ready to stand, when he suddenly felt something catch his trouser leg.

"Hm?" Cui Yue turned, puzzled, but saw nothing.

He took another step and was tripped again. Turning back, still nothing. He was baffled, when suddenly a timid child’s voice came from behind him.

"Big brother."

Cui Yue quickly looked down. This time he saw him—a little boy, about six or seven, dressed in a blue t-shirt and black shorts, hugging Cui Yue’s leg with both arms. His round face was endearing.

But the child was inexplicably drenched, water still dripping from his hair, a puddle forming at his feet. He shivered all over, his lips tinged with blue from the cold, his voice trembling.

Cui Yue’s heart ached at the sight. He crouched down and asked gently, "Hey, little one, what’s wrong? Are you lost?"

"Big brother, have you seen my mom and dad?" the boy asked.

Cui Yue glanced at the child and guessed—he must have been playing in a nearby puddle, lost track of time, and now, with night falling so quickly, couldn’t find his parents.

Sympathy welled up in Cui Yue’s heart. He pinched the boy’s cheek—it was icy cold. He comforted him, "It’s alright, little one. I’ll help you find your mom and dad, okay? It’s dangerous to be out here alone. You’re soaked through and freezing. If you don’t get home soon, you’ll catch a cold."

Page 3 of 3

The little boy thought for a moment, then nodded vigorously, clapping his hands with delight. "Okay, okay! Big brother, let’s go find my mom and dad together!"

He reached out and grabbed Cui Yue’s hand, skipping along the way, overjoyed. As they walked, Cui Yue chatted and laughed with him, all worries forgotten. Yet, Cui Yue failed to notice that every footprint the boy left, every trace of water, disappeared the instant he lifted his foot. All along the path, only Cui Yue’s footprints remained.

As they walked, Cui Yue noticed the boy’s hand growing colder and colder. Could he be ill? He worried.

Suddenly, the little boy stopped. His face was pale and bluish from the cold. He looked up and said, "Big brother, let’s not go any further. Stay and play with me, will you?"

Cui Yue scratched his head, thinking, This kid’s really something—still wants to play at this hour? You’ll freeze stiff if you stay out any longer. But he said cheerfully, "Be good, let’s find your mom and dad first, then I’ll play with you, alright?"

The boy hesitated, shook Cui Yue’s arm, and stubbornly insisted, "No, no, I just want to play with you, big brother."

"Be good, your mom and dad will be worried sick if they can’t find you. Once we find them, I promise I’ll play with you," Cui Yue coaxed.

The little boy pouted, full of displeasure. "No, I’m not going. I don’t want to. That person up ahead is too annoying, I don’t want to play with him."

As he spoke, he clung tightly to Cui Yue, refusing to take another step.

None of it made any sense. Cui Yue was bewildered by the boy’s scattered, contradictory words. Children truly could be more fickle than the weather—one moment cheerful, the next sulking. For a while, Cui Yue was at a loss, unable to muster any anger.

No matter how he coaxed or cajoled, the boy wouldn’t budge, his little eyes darting restlessly.

Cui Yue thought, This little rascal—when I finally get you back to your parents, they’d better give you a good spanking. You must be a real handful at home, too.

Noting how late it was getting, Cui Yue realized that if this went on, he’d never get the little troublemaker back to his parents. With a decisive sigh, he bent down, ready to hoist the boy onto his shoulder and carry him away.