Chapter 88: Station 23: Opium

Chapter 88: Station 23: Opium

Ming Yiyang almost believed that Yan Qiling was basking not in the cold moonlight but under a warm midday sun on his lounge chair.

However, looking at him like this stirred up a strange, overwhelming, and indigestible emotion within him.

It was akin to the feeling he had when his father, upon his stepmother's suggestion, left him to be raised by the local chieftain, creating a tiny unreachable and intangible shadow in the depths of his heart.

Yet, this sensation was different.

Its source came from the outside world.

It was a shadow grown for another person.

Ming Yiyang wished to take the cigarette resting on the blue tiles, unusually thin and swaying gently in the breeze.

But with just a word from Yan Qiling, he lost the strength to reach out, instead focusing intently on the cold words that spilled from the man's lips.

The words flowed calmly, as if they had been smoothed out by a paperweight:

"My mother is an innocent woman. Born into a wealthy family, she never had to lift a finger her entire life. After marrying my father, she didn't experience any significant hardships."

"My father is cautious and perceptive. Under his stewardship, our family's business flourished like never before. Thus, my mother never had to worry about finances. Moreover, due to his integrity, he never took a concubine within the inner courtyard. Therefore, when it came to matters of affection, my mother never had to compete with anyone else."

He paused in his narration, his tone detached as if annotating a passage in a book:

"In the eyes of outsiders, they devoted themselves to loving each other wholeheartedly. Such a relationship would still be enviable even in today's world."

"There are gossipers who believe it was my mother's beauty that ensnared my father. They curse her for captivating him with her looks, expecting their bond to be fleeting. Or they secretly mock my father for his shortsightedness, lured as he was by mere external beauty and willing to forsake the world outside."

"I was one of the few closest to them."

With a nostalgic hint of a genuine smile, he continued:

"Though simple, my mother was not foolish. Her foresight was something even my father admired. In those times, however, women often remained in the background, no matter their capabilities. Thus, while she strategized behind the scenes, it was my father's decisions that the world saw."

"She had a grand demeanor and an immense capacity for tolerance. Whenever Father lost his temper and sought to engage in petty squabbles, it was she who held him back, using her own reason to secure greater gains for our family."

"Her thoughts were delicate, and together with Father, they always complemented each other perfectly."

The warmth in her blue eyes faded first, turning into shards of icy detachment:

"Before I went abroad, she was still that gentle and rational woman, taking my marriage very philosophically. Her love for Father remained as deep as ever. But when I returned, everything had changed beyond recognition."

Yan Qiling couldn't recall the exact date of his return; he had even forgotten how he reached home.

Perhaps he took a rickshaw, or maybe some of his cousins came to fetch him in the family carriage.

Regardless, after several weeks of traveling, he finally arrived.

He saw his father at the entrance, but not the graceful and gentle figure he was accustomed to.

He asked about his mother, but the relatives around him looked uneasy, even his father fell silent, only urging him to freshen up and meet his mother later.

From this point on, his memory became vivid.

Suspecting that his mother might be suffering from a severe illness, he secretly visited her in the house, unbeknownst to anyone else.

Before even entering the room, a pungent white smoke, tinged with the scent of urine, wafted out, so thick that it was impossible to ignore.

His mother, once a beauty with delicate features, now looked haggard. She leaned against a long couch in the main chamber, puffing on a specially crafted jade opium pipe, lost in a cloud of smoke.

Upon seeing him, she immediately greeted him with a gentle smile.

She spoke to him in that familiar, sweet voice, as if no time had passed since their last conversation.

But within her intoxicating, dazed state, Yan Qiling could sense that his mother was not in a lucid frame of mind.

Rather than expressing joy at his return, it seemed as if she had stumbled upon her son by chance while lost in a dream-like realm, warmly acknowledging an illusory vision of him.

Throughout their encounter, she didn't budge from her spot, lying there and gazing at him with her captivating eyes, repeatedly calling out "my child," remarking that he seemed both plumper and thinner.

Later, he learned that it wasn't because his mother didn't want to touch him.

Instead, the effects of the opium had relaxed her muscles, leaving her limbs weak, desiring only to lie there and prolong the blissful sensation.

She was inflicted with an incurable illness.

An addiction that could no longer be cured.

After a brief silence, Ming Yiyang struggled to find the words he wanted to say.

Even the thought of retrieving his cigarette vanished, leaving him only to clench the metal ring on his pinky finger.

Yan Qiling's voice was so soft it was barely audible:

"I had advocated for her to quit smoking, but Father refused."

"He said that Mother didn't just pick up the habit momentarily; she started soon after I left. By the time he discovered it, quitting had become almost impossible. Fortunately, our family's wealth allowed her to indulge until her fifties without much harm."

He let out a low laugh, tinged with a rare hint of self-deprecation:

"I couldn't believe those were the words that came from my father's mouth. Yet, he did say them and acted accordingly. Until this day, I can't comprehend why his love for Mother took such a form."

All while the woman he loved most pursued her downward freedom.

Rather than trying to intervene, Father resorted to using his resources to hasten her self-destruction.

It was as if she had submitted to her fate, severing herself from the pain of womanhood and, in turn, cutting off all hope for survival.

"The family's servant boy went out to make purchases, and I caught a glimpse. The opium was wrapped like gold bars, engraved with the characters 'Fu Shou Gao.' But once you're hooked on this, there can be no immortal longevity or eternal youth."

The man's voice rang like the chiming of precious metals—icy, rational, impervious to external influences:

"Our family's wealth could indeed sustain her for a hundred years, but her opium addiction would never allow her to reach that age."

"As time passed, she wasted away, her mind clouded. All day long, she could do nothing but lie in bed craving another hit, unable even to dress herself. Any fabric brushing against her skin became torment. She could only be covered by a silk blanket to shield her body."

Yan Qiling suddenly turned to the silent young man at his side and asked,

"Are you interested in hearing these stories?"

Ming Yiyang met his gaze, his snowy eyelashes drooping slightly,

"I want to hear. You've shared so many stories with me; it's only fair that I learn something about you too. Please continue."

"...In short, her addiction to smoking grew stronger each day. If her cravings weren't met, she would scream in agony, completely losing her human form."

The man lifted his pale face to meet the blue moonlight, his well-proportioned nose and jawline forming a handsome profile.

"She was beautiful and charming when I was young, like a white magnolia. She often said that a gentleman should live in this world with no shame before heaven, ancestors, or temples, cultivating virtue and practicing self-restraint for the benefit of future generations. I once took her words as my guiding principle, but she herself forgot them."

"On the day she left, in her final moments of vitality, unable to get anyone's attention, she got out of bed to smoke. Just as she lit it and took a puff, she choked on the smoke and suffocated to death."

Ming Yiyang lost all interest in smoking.

The young man lifted his gaze, tracing the seemingly unemotional contours of the person beside him.

With the sound of tiles whispering, his body reacted instinctively, his arm wrapped around the man's back like a scorching chain, allowing him to gently pull the person into his embrace.

But this sudden action was fleeting. After holding the other person briefly, he quickly released them.

Ming Yiyang didn't bother explaining the motive behind the hug. Instead, he reached out to brush away the strands of hair falling across the person's forehead and whispered, "I'm sorry."

He wasn't sure what he was apologizing for.

Yet the man sitting in front of him seemed to have interpreted the apology in his own way:

"No need to apologize. I just can't stand seeing people smoke. It's rather domineering of me, but I can't help it."

Ming Yiyang was about to respond when a sudden "meow" echoed extremely close by!

The alluring feline's voice was so near that it sent shivers down his spine. Without hesitation, his hand reflexively pulled out the wooden chip from his neck, revealing a sharp long blade!

However, the cat seemed to be merely conducting some mysterious observation. Its bright green, round eyes stared at them for a while before dashing towards the courtyard, vanishing without a trace.

Just then, Yan Qiling suddenly gasped, clutching his chest.

Ming Yiyang swiftly scooped him into his arms and, remembering the rules, two purple flames ignited in his eyes.

Hearing the unusual sound, the guards at the door were about to open the embroidery room when the four girls inside hurriedly rushed out.

After they left, a stone flew through the window, extinguishing the candles within the house.

Closing the back window silently, Ming Yiyang knew he couldn't stay here any longer to guard Si Shuhao and the others. He could only follow Yan Qiling back to the accounting room for now.

There were only the two of them in the accounting room; Shi Wen Guang and the others had clearly gone to the Wen family with Diao Qingchang.

Ming Yiyang didn't understand the mechanism behind Yan Qiling's heartache and wanted to examine him:

"Did you injure yourself?"

Yan Qiling held onto his collar button, declining the offer:

"It's nothing, just a sudden stab of pain in my heart."

The young man looked at him skeptically, his purple eyes flickering in the candlelight like a little fox that had suddenly wandered into human society, expressing its tentative affection with half-belief.

Yan Qiling felt an inexplicable tenderness towards his current appearance and reached out to gently stroke the angular side of his face, softening his voice:

"Really, it's nothing. If you're tired, take a rest here for a while. There's a small bamboo bed by the window; you can sleep there."

Ming Yiyang hadn't initially planned on sleeping.

Even when he was lying on the bamboo bed, he thought he would only doze off for a short while.

Yet Yan Qiling sat beside him, flipping through accounts. The herbal scent emanating from this person, mixed with the smell of ink, somehow lured him into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When he woke up again, it was already broad daylight.

Ming Yiyang: ... Damn.

Yan Qiling must have given him some sleeping pills. How could he have slept like a log without even dreaming?!

Feeling bewildered and fearful, he quickly slapped himself hard.

Thus, with a clear handprint on his face, he grumpily accompanied Yan Qiling to the secluded courtyard where they had briefly reunited the day before, waiting for Diao Qingchang and the others to arrive and share information about the Wen family.

Unexpectedly,

Diao Qingchang's group looked even more grim.

Not only that.

One person is missing.

Mai Zeyu, he's nowhere to be found.