Chapter 37: Frail Body

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Chapter 37: Frail Body

“Since we are not brothers, I want to marry Song Qie.”

This declaration detonated in the room like a bomb, sending shockwaves through everyone present.

Father Song slammed his palm against the table in disbelief, his anger boiling over. “Let go of each other, both of you!”

Song Qie squirmed, jumping in place, his face flushed with effort as he protested, “It wasn’t me who wanted to hold him! It was him! Lu Beihuai, let go!”

Unfazed by Song Qie’s struggle, Lu Beihuai simply bent down, hooking his arms under Song Qie’s knees and lifting him effortlessly into a princess carry. The sudden weightlessness startled him; he frowned, realizing how much lighter Song Qie had become.

“How have you lost so much weight? You used to have some flesh on you,” Lu Beihuai remarked, his voice tinged with concern.

The atmosphere thickened with tension, growing almost suffocating.

Song Qie felt his mind go blank as he lay in Lu Beihuai’s arms, his limbs heavy and unresponsive. He slowly closed his tearful eyes, burying his face in his arms.

The world would be better off without him.

Right.

Lu Beihuai always had a knack for embarrassing him.

Song’s father had never imagined Lu Beihuai could be so bold. In front of him, Lu had always seemed honest and compliant, well-behaved while caring for Song Qie. He understood Song Qie’s timid nature, but he also knew the boy wasn’t one to easily dominate others physically. If Lu Beihuai wanted to, he could easily overpower him.

But this rebellious side of Lu Beihuai was unexpected.

Was he venting his frustrations about the injustices he had faced?

“Let go!” Song’s father shouted, unable to witness the scene any longer. “How can two boys hug like this?”

Seeing the usually composed businessman lose his temper made it clear how furious he truly was.

“I know I owe you, but I don’t want anything. I just want to marry Song Qie,” Lu Beihuai said, feeling the tremors in Song Qie’s body. Unsure if he was crying, he made the decision to set him down.

As Song Qie was released, his legs buckled beneath him, and he stumbled forward into Lu Beihuai.

“Do you want me to hold you again?” Lu Beihuai asked, steadying him.

Startled, Song Qie leaped away, quickly finding refuge on a sofa in the corner, desperate to distance himself from Lu Beihuai.

But just as he thought he was safe, Lu Beihuai approached him.

Father Song narrowed his eyes, his voice sharp. “Lu Beihuai, sit here! You two sit separately! Who told you to stick together? What will happen if this gets out?”

“It wouldn’t look good if it was discovered that the wrong child was taken away 18 years later,” Lu Beihuai retorted, sliding into the seat next to Song Qie.

Father Song was momentarily speechless, caught off guard by Lu Beihuai’s audacity.

“The Song family is powerful, yet their only child was lost due to a mistake. Not only that, but the perpetrator’s child was swapped in his place. The very person who should have cared for him was instead raised for eighteen years, while this child, now frail, can’t even care for himself. If this gets out, it would be a scandal of unimaginable proportions.” Lu Beihuai reached out, intertwining his fingers with Song Qie’s.

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“???” Song Qie blinked in confusion. Why were they holding hands when they could just talk? He tried to pull away, but found he couldn’t. Lowering his voice, he whispered, “What are you doing?”

“I just want to show that there’s one person who can save me, who doesn’t hate my biological parents, and who can heal me,” Lu Beihuai replied, glancing at Song Qie.

The very man who had tormented him for a decade.

Someone he would never release, even in death.

Someone he had to follow, never leaving his side.

Song Qie’s eyes widened in panic. No, he didn’t want to hear this. He wanted Lu Beihuai to stop talking!

In a desperate move, he raised his other hand to cover Lu Beihuai’s mouth, trying to silence him, but Lu captured his palm and pressed a kiss against it.

His body went rigid.

What did it mean when someone said, “I’m not afraid of being torn apart; I just want to leave my innocence in the world”? This phrase encapsulated his feelings perfectly. He wished he could simply melt away. He had known Lu Beihuai was unpredictable, but he never anticipated just how unhinged he could truly be.

“Only Song Qie,” Lu Beihuai declared, holding Song Qie’s hand tightly. He turned to Father Song, whose expression darkened. “I know you don’t want to admit you have a gay son, but do you have any idea what I went through? What kind of life I endured in the Lu family?”

“I’ve always wondered why my father never praised me. No matter how well I performed academically or how much I earned from my part-time jobs, it paled in comparison to the praise given to Song Qie for simply eating a bit more rice. I never understood why his eating more was praiseworthy.”

Song Qie couldn’t help but think, “Why are you holding me so tightly when you aren’t even the one being praised?”

“Now I understand what this favoritism truly means.”

“I borrowed 200,000 yuan from you to cover my father’s medical expenses. I worked part-time in a boxing gym and entered competitions to pay for it. I suffered numerous injuries along the way, but none of it was my responsibility, nor should I have had to bear it. Not once did my father thank me for my sacrifices.”

“It’s your fault that the Song family failed to protect me. You have no right to judge, condemn, or educate me about who I have become.”

His tone remained calm, yet each word cut like a knife.

Listening to this, Song Qie felt a swell of sympathy for Lu Beihuai. He realized that Lu was the true victim in this twisted narrative; he couldn’t help but admire his courage. He glanced at Lu Beihuai, who was dressed in a simple black polo shirt—likely provided by the Song family. His well-defined features and broad shoulders gave him an imposing presence. With his straight nose and indifferent demeanor, he exuded an air of confidence that was almost intimidating, even when he slouched casually.

This created a fascinating contradiction.

He embodied a sort of madman’s aesthetic, the sharp edges of his personality honed by life’s trials. He could endure but dared to unleash fury when it benefited him.

It made a twisted kind of sense.

Song Qie envied those who could articulate their feelings so well, seemingly indifferent to the opinions of others.

Unbeknownst to him, admiration shone in his eyes, but when he met Lu Beihuai’s gaze, he felt as though he were being consumed by those dark depths.

This is bad.

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