Chapter 200: Ping Yi

Li Pingyi vaguely heard crying. He took a few steps and saw a small boy sitting outside the door, crying with wet eyelashes. The sunlight on his profile made him look quite adorable. Li Pingyi stepped closer and heard a childish voice come from his own mouth.

“Brother Xiu...”

The boy raised his eyelashes, turned his head, and looked at him. Li Pingyi then heard himself declare solemnly:“I’d be sad if you died too.”“Mm.”

His blurry vision gradually cleared, and Li Pingyi finally woke from his dream. He felt excruciating pain all over his body. His mouth was bitter and dry, filled with the taste of blood. His chest had broken bones, and his legs throbbed numbly, likely also broken.

Two flies buzzed in front of him, chasing each other in the air. Li Pingyi tried to reach out and swat them away, but nothing moved. He squirmed a few times in bed and finally noticed someone sitting quietly by his side. The person’s face was dark, like a stone statue, sitting motionless and watching him.

“Father...” Li Pingyi uttered two words. Li Xiewen’s expression remained unchanged; he simply watched him quietly, showing neither joy nor sorrow.

“Where are my hands...?” Li Pingyi’s mind was hazy, everything drifting in and out of focus. He called out in a hoarse voice.

“Gone.” Li Xiewen finally moved his throat and quietly uttered two words.

Li Pingyi felt as if he had been slapped, momentarily stunned. All his memories suddenly rushed back: the precious pearl, the lightning fire, the collapsing house. Li Pingyi suddenly thrashed violently and cried out, “Young Master?!”

Li Xiewen’s throat moved, and he again uttered two words.“Gone.”

Li Pingyi made a gurgling sound, like a chicken whose throat had been suddenly choked. Tears burst from his cheeks, and he repeated, “Gone.”

Li Xiewen gazed at him somberly, watching Li Pingyi transition from silent tears to loud sobs, then from loud sobs to cursing, until he abruptly stopped.

Because Li Xiewen slapped him.

*Smack.* Li Xiewen backhanded his other cheek, making him dizzy. Then he reached out and touched Li Pingyi’s neck. Li Pingyi squirmed on the bed for a moment, sobbing, “Father, I still have unfinished business.”

Li Xiewen looked at him coldly. Li Pingyi writhed on the bed, looking around, and finally spotted the half-burnt wooden slip on the bedside. He stopped crying and whispered, “The Young Master asked me to deliver this book to Young Master Yuanyun. I’ll have to trouble you, Father.”

Li Xiewen paused, then two hot tears finally fell from his eyes. He said in a hoarse voice, “That precious pearl... you offered it.”“It was I, your son.”

Li Pingyi forced out three words through gritted teeth, as if his backbone had been removed, and he went limp. Tears streamed down Li Xiewen’s face as he hoarsely continued, “You’ve always been easy to raise, clever and sharp, knowing when to advance and retreat. Apart from lacking spiritual aptitude, you were no worse than the other children of the Yuan generation.”

“Your father, I, was dull from a young age. If it weren’t for my good relationship with Brother Xuanxuan, and my younger brothers being so unpromising, this position of steward would never have fallen to me.”

Li Xiewen continued to weep, saying, “Then you were born, and those two dark, glistening eyes just stared at me. I thought, this child will be a capable person in the future, better than me, much better than me.”

Li Pingyi, lying on the bed, tasted his father’s tears, bitter and acrid. He shifted slightly, tears streaming uncontrollably from his own eyes, and sobbed, “Father... I’m sorry.”

Li Xiewen wiped away his tears, patted his eldest son, and gritted his teeth. “But Xiu’er is dead... Li Yuanxiu is dead! That was Li Yuanxiu! The Young Master of the Li family! He was the Li family’s eldest legitimate son, a mission your grandfather entrusted to me, and I entrusted to you! Do you understand?!”

Li Pingyi closed his eyes and replied, “Yes, Father, I understand.”

Li Xiewen slowly stood up, placed the half-burnt wooden slip into his sleeve, and stared at his eldest son’s face for a moment. Then he flicked his sleeve, walked out of the room, and pulled the door shut behind him.

Li Pingyi’s eyes were dazzled by the bright sunlight that entered when the door opened, and his vision became blurry with tears. As his father left and closed the door, the room plunged back into deep darkness.

The dim, flickering lamplight on the table was too far from Li Pingyi for him to discern his surroundings. He squirmed on the bed like a worm, then poked his head over the edge.

He squinted for a moment and realized his eyes had been damaged by the lightning fire; his left eye could barely see. He stared with his right eye for a while and then discovered a wooden bucket at his feet. It was made of mountain wood, meticulously reinforced with iron strips around its rim and securely bound so that not a single drop of water leaked out.

It was a basin of blood water, apparently left over from when Li Xiewen had wiped him clean. It smelled fishy and foul, and a grey rag floated on the surface like a dead fish.

“Good,” Li Pingyi muttered. He estimated the distance, adjusted his angle with his unbroken leg, and took several deep breaths to alleviate the pain from the pressure of turning, which affected his broken bones. Then he pushed hard.*Plop!*

He plunged headfirst into the bucket. The blood water just covered his chest, and a large amount flooded into his mouth. Fearing he might instinctively move, Li Pingyi braced himself, wedging his one remaining movable leg firmly against the corner of the bed.

The scent in his nose grew sweeter and sweeter. Li Pingyi began a series of gurgling coughs in the water, convulsively inhaling the blood water and then violently coughing it out. His body stiffened and tensed, and the rigidity caused him to wet his trousers.

A beam of light appeared before Li Pingyi’s eyes. He vaguely saw the faces of his father Li Xiewen, his mother, and Li Yuanxiu, all flashing before him. A thought emerged in his mind:“To see them one last time before I die... that’s worth it.”

Outside the door, Li Xiewen’s eyes were closed, his hands clenched white. Tears streamed uncontrollably down his face. Only when the gurgling sounds from inside stopped did he utter a few choking sounds, then slowly collapsed to the ground.

He lay on the ground for a while, too dizzy to distinguish between the beam and the floor. He shifted slightly, his head swimming, and then a pair of leather boots appeared in his vision.

Li Xiewen looked up and saw a face that was seven parts similar to Li Yuanxiu’s, though the eyes were more elongated and the expression more fierce. The person stared directly at his face and whispered, “Uncle Xiewen, where is Li Pingyi?”

Li Xiewen straightened up and said softly, “Greetings, Young Master Yuanjiao. Witnessing the Young Master’s demise, Li Pingyi was overcome with grief and has gone with him.”

Without looking at Li Yuanjiao’s shocked expression, he took the half-burnt wooden slip from his embrace, offered it with both hands, and said in a deep voice, “This item was entrusted by the Young Master to be given to Young Master Yuanyun. Li Pingyi could not rest easy until this matter was resolved, and it has now been passed to your subordinate.”