As Jiang Ming's footsteps faded into the temple, Ming Hui skipped over with the lightness of a spring breeze. She squatted before Lin Yu, her small frame folding neatly as she rested her chin in her hands. Her eyes sparkled under the moonlight, fixed on him, and she giggled. A soft, bubbling sound that carried no words but spoke volumes of her joy at his return.
Lin Yu felt a flush creep up his neck under her unwavering gaze. He turned his head, suddenly shy, and fumbled in his tattered bag for the candied hawthorn sticks he'd bought on his arduous journey. He held them out to her, his voice gentle but tinged with self-consciousness. "I left in a rush, so I only managed to get these. You love sour things. I tried one, sweet and sour, just right. I think you'll like them."
Ming Hui stood, accepting the hawthorns with a grin that lit up her face like a lantern. "I knew Eldest Brother understands me best," she said, her voice brimming with affection.
But her smile faltered, and a shadow crossed her eyes. "Eldest Brother… you won't go back to that family, will you?"
Her voice grew heavy, each word weighted with years of worry. "Brother, you know, since you left, Master, Jiang Ming and I have been so anxious. We feared you'd be bullied there, lost in their world."
She fidgeted with the hawthorn sticks, her fingers tracing the bamboo skewer. "I've heard wealthy families are suffocated by rules," she continued. "Even eating is a chore, no slurping soup, no talking at the table, waiting for the head of the family to take the first bite. It sounds so tiring, like living in a cage."
She looked up, her gaze pleading. "Don't go back. We're a family here. We eat without rules. You can squat in a corner with your bowl, laugh, spill a little, and no one cares."
Lin Yu's heart, battered by years of rejection, warmed at her words. A smile tugged at his lips, softening the sharp edges of his memories. "I won't go back," he assured her, his voice steady.
"When people get rich, they complicate simple days, chasing rituals and status," he said, his tone reflective. "I'm not built for that life. I tried, Huihui, but it was like wearing someone else's skin."
He reached into his bag, pulling out the agreement he'd signed with the Lin family, the document severing his ties to their wealth and name. He handed it to Ming Hui.
Her eyes widened as she scanned the paper, her mouth falling open. "Brother, you're incredible! I heard the Lin family's worth tens of milliond, and you're just… walking away?"
Lin Yu's smile was wry, tinged with a bitterness he couldn't fully hide. "What else could I do? They have their heir, Lin Tianyang. They do not care about me"
He paused, his gaze drifting to the starlit sky. "What you never truly owned, you can't lose. So what's there to give up?"
Ming Hui stared at him, her big eyes fierce, her small teeth gritted like a determined cub. "Brother, I'll get rich one day, I'll get billions and trillions of money and I'll give it all to you. I'll make those who hurt you beg for forgiveness."
Lin Yu chuckled, the sound low and warm. His siblings treated him like a Bodhisattva in a temple, offering grand wishes at his feet. Their dreams, bold and unpolished, reminded him of his own youth, when hope felt limitless despite their meager circumstances.
Dreams were good, he thought. But what was his dream now?
A plan had been forming in his mind, a quiet resolve taking root. He just needed to discuss it with Xuan Ce, the man who'd raised him with more love than any blood tie could claim.
Ming Hui plopped beside him, her chatter filling the courtyard like a melody. She talked of school, her tutoring gigs, and the stray cat she'd fed behind the temple. For half an hour, her voice wove a tapestry of their shared life, until Xuan Ce's gentle urging sent her to her room for homework. She pouted but obeyed, clutching the hawthorns as she skipped away.
By the time Xuan Ce joined Lin Yu in the courtyard, the moon hung high, casting a silver glow over the temple's worn stones. The chirping of insects filled the air, a soothing hum that carried Lin Yu back to childhood. He could almost see himself as a boy, clinging to Xuan Ce's robes, watching Jiang Ming and Ming Hui toddle after them. Countless nights, Xuan Ce had cradled them, humming nursery rhymes, feeding them bottles under this same sky. Life then was simple, unburdened by the weight of wealth or rejection. Their clothes were threadbare, their meals plain, but Lin Yu's heart had felt full, anchored by a sense of belonging.
They sat in silence, the only sound Xuan Ce's occasional soft coughs, a reminder of his frail health. The quiet stretched, comfortable yet heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Two minutes passed. Lin Yu met Xuan Ce's gaze, ready to speak, but Xuan Ce spoke first, his voice calm yet firm. "Yu'er, I'm a monk. I'm no good at comforting, and I won't preach Zen or reason. But I must share three truths."
"First: The world is balanced. Lose something, gain something. Want something, you must lose. It's an exchange, always."
"Second: Without a Buddha's power, don't carry a Buddha's heart. Compassion without strength is a burden."
"Third: What's yours is yours, no one can take it. What's not yours, no effort can claim."
Lin Yu sensed the comfort woven into the words, a monk's way of soothing a wounded soul. He smiled faintly. "Master, I understand. I never dreamed of owning the Lin family's wealth or status. I just wanted… a good life, one that feels like mine."
His fingers brushed the longevity lock, a traditional Chinese amulet for protection hanging against his chest. He sighed, the weight of years in his breath. "For a decade, I imagined my mother, she'd be the gentlest, most loving, kindest, most beautiful woman in the world."
"She must've grieved losing me," he said, voice softening. "I didn't want her to suffer. I had to find her, to ease her pain."
He shook his head, eyes distant. "But I found a nightmare, but now, it's over."
In this world, he'd learned, not fighting or claiming was a sin. The Lin family's wealth had dazzled him once, but it came with chains, expectations, disdain, fists and kicks that left bruises on his body and soul.
When the Lin family found him, they'd offered Xuan Ce five million yuan as thanks for raising him. But Xuan Ce had refused every cent. "I raised a son, not sold one," he'd said, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. "Treat him well. He hasn't had an easy life with me. As long as he's happy, that's enough."
Lin Yu remembered that day vividly, the way Xuan Ce had turned away, wiping tears in secret. Though he forbade them from calling him father, in his heart, Lin Yu, Jiang Ming, and Ming Hui were his children, bound by love deeper than blood.
Xuan Ce sighed, patting Lin Yu's hand. "This may be for the best, Yu'er."
Lin Yu returned the gesture, his expression solemn. "Master, I need to tell you something."
"Go on."
Lin Yu steadied himself, his voice deliberate. "Master, I don't want to go to school anymore."
"What?" Xuan Ce shot to his feet, eyes wide. "Drop out?"
"The Lin family cast you out, and now you want to quit school?"
Fury sparked in his gaze. He scanned the courtyard, searching for something to wield. He grabbed a dead branch, weighed it, then discarded it for a twig no thicker than his little finger, its frailty belying his anger.
"You think you can drop out just because you've been away and I can't control you?" he said, raising the twig.
The scene was achingly familiar, a warmth Lin Yu hadn't felt in years. It had been ages since his master's "discipline" had graced him, a ritual more affectionate than punitive.
Lin Yu smiled, unafraid.
Xuan Ce couldn't bring himself to strike. He tapped the twig lightly on Lin Yu's back, his voice softening. "Tell me why."
Lin Yu patted the stone bench beside him. "Sit, Master. Here's my reason. I'm the eldest. Jiang Ming and Ming Hui need school, and it's costly. Your health isn't good. If I keep studying, the expense…"
"No more!" Xuan Ce interrupted, coughing violently. Breathless, he said, "Don't even think it. I'm not dead yet. It's not your turn to carry this family."
Lin Yu had anticipated resistance, but not this intensity. He stood, gently patting Xuan Ce's back to ease his breathing, his touch careful and practiced.
Their raised voices drew Jiang Ming and Ming Hui from their homework. The siblings appeared in the courtyard, concern etched on their faces.
Xuan Ce, fearing the quarrel would upset them, waved impatiently. "What are you doing here? Is your homework done? Get back to it!"
Jiang Ming bit his lip, his voice firm. "Master, I heard Brother wants to drop out. If he quits, I'm done with school too. One of us in college is enough."
Ming Hui stepped forward, her small frame defiant. "What do you mean by that, you'll stay in school and I'll tell the teacher tomorrow, I'm quitting to work. If my brothers can go to college, our family has hope."