SES Chapter 172 Part 1

Chapter 172

Luo Ren helped Mu Dai down from the bed and draped her outer coat over her shoulders. She held the collar in her hands for a moment, then said softly, “Then… I’ll head back now.”

As she spoke, the dim golden light above cast a faint glow over her. With her eyes lowered and her frame looking even slimmer, she appeared delicate and quietly obedient.

Luo Ren reached out and pulled her back. “Wait—give me a hug.”

He drew her into his arms. After everything that had happened between them earlier, holding her again felt more uninhibited—both his body and his emotions wanted to be closer to her. Such a lovely girl… he almost wanted to pull her into himself, make her a part of him.

Mu Dai whispered, “You’re… a little different today.”

Luo Ren let out a soft laugh and looked down at her. “Am I? What’s different?”

What was different?

Earlier, she had told him, “It always feels like something is missing between us.” At the time, she couldn’t explain what exactly. In fact, she had found it strange—weren’t they practically model lovers? No fights, no drama, everything smooth. So what was that faint ache beneath the surface?

Suddenly, she understood. It was probably because he always kept a layer of distance—he had been hiding his true self from beginning to end.

Their emotions had never collided on equal footing. Maybe it was because Luo Ren felt she was young, inexperienced, and in this relationship, he had fallen into the habit of protecting her, solving her problems, letting her lean on him, teaching her, guiding her.

But when it came to his own issues, he kept them tucked away. In front of her, he was the same as he was before Cao Yanhua and the others—calm, steady, composed, gentle with her, affectionate too. They hugged and kissed like any normal couple, nothing to complain about.

But tonight, because of everything that happened, he completely lost that composure. He reached for her—seeking comfort, seeking release. All his emotions—raw, painful, remorseful, tangled, self-blaming, and loving—crashed into her without warning.

That side of Luo Ren—she loved it. Loved it so much. She liked him even more than the steady “Luo Xiaodao” she thought she knew.

Who wants a polite, flawless, paper-perfect boyfriend? She loved the way he had looked just now—eyes tinged with wetness, wanting her fiercely, yet still tender, still respectful, heartbreakingly real.

She whispered, “But… this different Luo Xiaodao—I like him so, so much.”

Something soft deep inside Luo Ren was struck hard.

Before, he had liked her very deeply. But the moment she had closed her eyes earlier and said, “It’s my first time… please be gentle,” he had already, completely, fallen in love with her.

If she were a flower, he would gladly turn his bones and blood into the soil beneath her feet.

He bent to kiss her eyelids, his tongue tracing the curve of her eyes, and Mu Dai nearly lost her balance. As she began to sink, he held her waist and pulled her tighter into him.

Men and women were such strange creatures—he grew hard with desire, and she became softer, as if her tenderness could melt him entirely.

This was a girl born for him.

After a long moment of whispered affection, he murmured a warning: “If you don’t leave now, you won’t be leaving tonight at all.”

Mu Dai laughed quietly, lifted her head, and said, “So tell me—which one is the real Luo Xiaodao? Honestly, you’re not that polite with my senior brother in your heart, are you?”

Luo Ren leaned down to her ear and breathed, “Just between us—I really can’t stand how smug he acts. I want to knock out two of his teeth.”

Mu Dai refused Luo Ren’s offer to walk her back and insisted on returning herself. The night was quiet, the air cool and still. She walked slowly. From time to time, she would stop and rub her bare foot against the rough blue stone ground. The coarse texture gently tickled the sole of her foot—like tiny, secret shivers of sweetness she didn’t dare put into words.

As she passed the triangular pavilion by the back pond, Zheng Mingshan was still there, a bottle of white liquor opened by his side. The faint smell of alcohol drifted through the chilly air.

Mu Dai walked over and sat on the steps by the water. She picked up a leftover steamed bun, tore off a small piece, dipped it in the bottle’s mouth, and tossed it into the pond.

The fish in the water were idiots—always scrambling the moment there was food, mouths opening and closing frantically, fighting each other for crumbs.

She wondered if fish could get drunk. Imagine tomorrow morning—a whole pond of dizzy fish, wobbling around, bumping into each other. How funny would that be?

Zheng Mingshan didn’t stop her. He just let her fool around. Watching the ripples, he muttered quietly, “One plum blossom, one jar of wine; a lifetime spent chasing one good drunken night.”

Mu Dai turned to him. “Senior Brother… why does Master always recite that line?”

“No idea.”

“On the way here, Master told me she wanted to drink the ‘Shaodaoko’ liquor from that shop on the cross street in Baoding City. The one from many years ago.”

Zheng Mingshan laughed softly, with a hint of helplessness. “Back when Master roamed around Baoding, she was younger than you are now. The cross street and the liquor shop have long disappeared. Where are we supposed to find it now?”

Then he added, “Lately, Master keeps recalling old people and old things. Talking about training on plum blossom stakes, about feuding with escorts, about chopping down their banner pole with a single strike—things from so long ago. Even she says her time is coming. Mu Dai, you need to be prepared. Don’t look sad—Master doesn’t like people crying.”

Mu Dai murmured, “I understand.”

The water splashed as bubbles rose. A fish surfaced, searched around, found nothing, then flicked its tail and swam away, leaving long ripples spreading out into the night—like a string of unresolved sorrows.

“Senior Brother,” she said softly, “are there really people in this world… so bad you can’t even imagine it?”

“Of course. Who do you think fills the high-security prisons?”

“Have you met any?”

Zheng Mingshan glanced at her. “I have. And Master met plenty in her early years too. You haven’t, though. In your words, your Aunt Hong spoiled you rotten.”

Mu Dai laughed. “That was a long time ago.”

Something suddenly occurred to Zheng Mingshan, and his voice grew thoughtful. “Years ago, I met a girl who ran a wonton shop. Very pretty. The next year I passed by again—I even made a detour just to eat her wontons again.”

Mu Dai hugged her knees and smiled playfully. “You liked her?”

“The shop had changed owners. The new owner said she’d run into trouble.”

“What happened to her?”

“I asked around and found out. The shop was busy, so she brought her younger sister from the countryside to help. The two sisters fell for the same man. But that man only liked the elder sister. Only invited her to movies, out to eat, out walking.”

Mu Dai tensed. “Did the younger sister get jealous and hurt her?”

Zheng Mingshan nodded. “Do you know what she did?”

“She… killed her?”

That was the worst Mu Dai could imagine.

Zheng Mingshan fell silent for a long moment.

“The younger sister bought pig feed mixed with strong growth hormones. Then for months, she secretly added it to her sister’s meals. The girl ballooned like an inflating balloon—getting fatter and fatter beyond control.”

“They all ate at the same table. No one else had any issues. So the girl didn’t think it was the food. She didn’t think she was sick. She blamed herself—thought she’d been overeating. She tried dieting, exercising—nothing helped.”

“She felt ashamed and cried in her sister’s arms. The sister comforted her, then handed her a bowl of food and said, ‘No matter what, you still have to eat.’”

Mu Dai felt chills running down her spine.

“That man began visiting less and less. Eventually, he stopped coming entirely. Finally, the elder sister started to feel something was wrong. She went to the hospital—tests showed abnormal substances in her body. So she called the police. And the whole truth came out.”

Mu Dai whispered, stunned, “Could she recover?”

“No. That wasn’t ordinary feed—it was potent hormones. Her bones were altered, her organs damaged. And when the younger sister was arrested, she screamed at her: ‘We’re real sisters! How could you be so heartless as to report me?’”

He patted Mu Dai’s shoulder. “See? You never know what grows in a person’s heart. Same rice, same water—yet people turn out a hundred different ways.”

“This world is like a yin-yang symbol. As bright as it is dark; as white as it is black; as clean as it is filthy. Don’t imagine it too good, but don’t despair either. For every evil person, there’s someone to stop them. Otherwise, everything would’ve collapsed long ago.”

He stood up. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow morning, you’ll need to stand before the Master’s door and serve your disciple’s tea.”

The next morning, Luo Ren woke up early. He’d been convinced he would see mist—but surprisingly, the air was clear. Out of the entire year, he must’ve hit one of the rare crystal-bright mornings in this town.

Cao Yanhua woke even earlier, washing up by the pond. A moment later, he walked back carrying his toothbrush cup, water still dripping down his face.