SES Chapter 118 Part 2

If the scroll feared blood, why had it caused no reaction? If it didn’t fear it, then how did Yi Wansan’s incident make sense?

As he turned into a narrow alley, his gaze dropped—and caught sight of the shadows at his feet.

His own long shadow… and another, overlapping with it.

Luo Ren froze. The shadow froze too. He edged slightly to the side.

The shadows separated—his own long and faint, and the other, quiet and indistinct.

He turned, and there was Mu Dai at the mouth of the alley. With the light behind her, she seemed small and hesitant in its glow.

He asked, “Couldn’t sleep?”

Mu Dai said softly, “I didn’t mean to follow you.”

She’d just been lying awake, and when she heard movement in the hall, she peeked through the peephole and saw him leave.

So she’d gotten dressed and stepped out too.

If there had been anyone else on the street, she probably would have just picked a stranger and trailed behind them, letting her mind wander.

Everyone had their own way of coping with pressure. Some slept for hours. Some drowned themselves in alcohol. Some cried their hearts out.

As for her, she preferred to walk in silence.

But the streets were empty tonight. Only Luo Ren was there.

So she’d followed him all the way, watching from behind. Seeing someone familiar from the shadows was a strange, novel experience. His posture, his stride, every pause—familiar, yet oddly foreign.

She hadn’t planned on being noticed, treating it like a little secret of her own—like that time she’d called pretending to be a real estate agent. Something tucked away, never spoken of.

But he’d found her out.

Mu Dai walked closer.

“In Chongqing, when we’d just met—that time you went to see Ma Tuwen, I was outside, eavesdropping from the wall.”

Luo Ren chuckled, remembering. Back then, he’d kept her distracted for ages with nothing more than two lit cigarettes.

“How did you figure it out?” he asked.

“Instinct.”

The truth was more complicated—more like a natural alertness to danger.

 

“Was it instinct again this time?”

Not this time. In truth, he hadn’t noticed at all—until he saw the shadow on the ground.

Malice, maybe, was like an aura you could feel. Get close enough, and it would set off alarms inside him. But without malice, approaching and following was just like the wind—whoever stops to wonder where a breeze comes from?

Mu Dai said softly, “Luo Ren, hold me.”

She stepped up to him, tilted her face up. Luo Ren let out a sigh, slipped an arm around her waist, and drew her into his arms. In a low voice, he said, “You don’t seem as happy as you used to.”

“All that happiness was stolen.”

It had come from forcibly blocking out the unhappiness.

“Luo Ren, I must be such a burden, right?”

He bent his head and brushed the crown of her hair with his chin. “No, you’re not.”

“When I was little, my mom thought I was nothing but trouble. I don’t even remember her face anymore, but I remember her dislike for me. She’d say, Why do you eat so much every day? Why do your clothes get dirty so easily—don’t you know I have to wash them? Why do you splash so much water out of the tub every time you bathe?”

“I was terrified she’d think I was troublesome. So I’d eat just a little, trying to show her I was easy to raise. I wouldn’t play anywhere dirty. After bathing, I’d take a towel and wipe every drop of water off the edge of the tub. I just wanted her to see that I wasn’t in trouble at all. But in the end… she still abandoned me.”

Luo Ren’s chest ached as he listened. He lowered his head to look at her, leaning exhausted against him, speaking calmly.

“Later, living with Aunt Hong, I knew perfectly well I was an outsider. I was afraid of causing her any trouble, so I obeyed her every word. One year, there was a flu outbreak. Half my classmates got sick, but I didn’t. I was happy about it for a long time.”

Luo Ren teased her gently. “You were gloating?”

Mu Dai shook her head. “No. If I’d gotten sick, it would have meant medicine, doctor visits, and spending money. I was happy because I saved Aunt Hong the trouble. But later… I still ended up causing her a lot of trouble. Didn’t she tell you? Her house was vandalized a few times.”

Luo Ren couldn’t find words.

“I was there when it happened. Every crash of breaking things made me flinch. Back then, I didn’t know whether I felt more guilty toward Wenwen or toward Aunt Hong. I was just an outsider—eating her food, drinking her water—and still dragging trouble to her doorstep.”

“Later… later…”

Luo Ren touched her cheek gently. “Mu Dai, let’s walk. Don’t say any more.”

She stopped him. “Let me finish. I never get the chance to talk to you. Tonight, with no one around—just let me say it.”

“If I could, I’d want to be someone who never causes trouble. Someone who only helps others solve their. But I don’t know why—after running so far away on my own—I still keep getting into things. And now you had to come all the way here. All of you did. Even Yi Wansan almost got dragged down with me…”

“I’m sorry, Luo Ren. I never wanted things to be this way.”

When she finished, she straightened up and stepped back.

Then, suddenly, she blurted, “Was it wrong for me to tell you all this?”

She muttered to herself, “Like a trash can, dumping garbage on someone else. I won’t say things like this again.”

Awkward and self-conscious, she turned toward the far end of the alley. It led back to the street. The night was still heavy, but already thinning—the first hint of dawn.

The city was about to wake. Soon, the early risers would be on the streets.

Mu Dai said, “Let’s head back. Hongsha and the others will be up soon.”

She turned and walked toward the alley’s mouth. Just as she reached it, light suddenly spilled from the right. She looked over—on the second floor of the building next to her, a window had opened, a lamp switched on. The faint sound of a baby crying drifted out, followed by a mother’s soft, soothing whispers.

Then, in a blink, a lithe figure scaled the wall and vaulted onto the second-floor balcony.

It was Luo Ren.

Mu Dai gasped, hurried a few steps closer, and mouthed, What are you doing?

He didn’t answer. He crouched by the screen window, paused, then turned and gestured for her to come up.

He was calling her to join him.