DLMSWSHH Chapter 41

TL: Hua

Chapter 41: Help

The youth curled on the ground sobbed and pleaded for mercy, acting as if he didn’t understand what the surrounding people were interrogating him about. He simply kept his arms held up to protect his head. His white clothes were covered in black footprints, and he groaned in agony under the group’s assault. The buzz cut delivered another kick to his face, then looked down at the youth crouching on the ground and said: “Damn, does he not understand human language?”

This little clique was well-versed in bullying; every kick landed on the most painful parts of the body. Usually, people would crack after a few hits, but this youth, who had appeared incredibly weak since the first day of the game, said nothing. Throughout the ordeal, he only shook his head helplessly, letting out indistinct cries of pain. His right arm looked as though it had been injured from the kicking; it was twitching uncontrollably now, yet he still persistently tried to lift it, reaching for the glasses that lay twisted and mangled nearby.

Shen Weinian, sporting his purple-highlighted hair, looked bored.

He squatted next to the youth, a cigarette in one hand and his elbow resting on his knee, revealing a butterfly tattoo on his forearm. He watched the youth’s tear-streaked face and took a drag of his cigarette.

The youth was collapsing, muttering something under his breath.

Shen Weinian raised an eyebrow, his shiny metal brow stud glinting in the sunlight. He looked at the buzz cut and asked, “What is this idiot saying?”

The buzz cut leaned over, grabbed the youth by his hair, and yanked him up to listen: “…Sounds like Korean.”

The buzz cut clicked his tongue and tossed the youth back to the ground. He casually delivered another kick to the stomach, causing the youth to instantly curl up like a shrimp, then spat on the ground.

“Fuck, what a goddamn nuisance! He’s Korean.”

The contempt in his manner became even more obvious. It was as if the fact that the other spoke Korean somehow justified their behavior.

“Huh?”

Shen Weinian’s eyes widened and his lips curled into a smirk. He said to the youth on the ground, “Weren’t you just speaking Mandarin? Say a few more words for us.”

His attitude was like teasing a dog. He glanced at the glasses dropped to the side and said to the youth, “Talk, and I’ll give the glasses back to you.”

At this, the youth lying on the ground, who seemed to have given up, moved. The arms shielding his head loosened slightly. Seeing a reaction, Shen Weinian’s grin widened as he slowly took another puff of smoke.

“…I… I don’t know anything.”

His Mandarin was fairly standard, with only a slight, strange accent at the end of his sentences.

Hearing this, Shen Weinian suddenly burst into laughter. The buzz cut didn’t know what he was laughing at but grinned along anyway. He laughed, and the several people around them followed suit. Zhong Ming watched the crowd jeer at the youth on the ground, his brow furrowing as he felt a bone-chilling atmosphere radiating from the scene.

The youth didn’t know why they were laughing. He mumbled, “My glasses… my glasses…”

Shen Weinian stood up laughing and ran a hand through his hair. His five fingers were adorned with various metal rings that sparkled in the sun.

“Goddamn, this Korean speaks Chinese pretty well.”

In the next instant, the smile vanished from Shen Weinian’s face. He looked down, threw his cigarette to the ground, crushed it with his foot, and said nonchalantly: “I’m tired of wasting time with him.”

The buzz cut’s expression also sharpened. He glanced at the youth and asked: “What do we do? Kill him?”

His tone was casual, speaking of murder as easily as one would speak of chopping vegetables.

Shen Weinian raised his eyes: “Kill him.”

Zhong Ming’s eyes widened slightly.

Upon hearing the command, the buzz cut immediately turned around. His gaze swept the area, pausing when he saw the wood piled in the warehouse, his lips curling upward.

Zhong Ming, standing in the shadows of the warehouse, felt his breath hitch.

Watching the buzz cut walk toward him, Zhong Ming slowed his breathing and took a subtle half-step back.

Fortunately, the guy didn’t notice him.

He bent down, picked up a wooden club from the ground, and turned back toward the youth. The club trailed on the ground, carving a long line through the damp, soft soil.

The people surrounding the youth began to jeer at the sight. In the center, Shen Weinian lowered his head and put a cigarette between his lips. He pulled out a black, diamond-encrusted lighter; an orange flame flashed, and smoke drifted out.

The buzz cut reached the youth and raised the club high, posing like a baseball player. He held the position and smirked at Shen Weinian: “Like this?”

He was aiming for the youth’s head.

Zhong Ming frowned and looked down, seeing the youth curled on the ground without any reaction; he might have fainted. At this rate, he truly would be beaten to death by these people.

Zhong Ming’s eyelashes fluttered slightly.

At the same time, Shen Weinian exhaled a cloud of smoke, approving of the angle: “Go ahead.”

Having received the order, the buzz cut grinned. He turned back, his arm muscles tensing as he raised the wooden club high.

However, at that moment, the sound of footsteps suddenly appeared behind him.

Zhong Ming’s eyes widened as he watched a tall figure pass him and walk forward. He hadn’t noticed at all when Feng Tang had arrived.

Of course, someone was even more surprised than him.

The buzz cut’s hand jerked, and the club fell to the ground. The look he gave Feng Tang was like seeing a vengeful spirit appear out of thin air. He looked as if he were about to piss himself.

Feng Tang was wearing the exact same shirt and vest from the other day. He had a stack of wood tucked under his left arm and was carrying an axe over his right shoulder as he slowly emerged from the small woods behind the warehouses.

The early morning sun hit his face. He raised his eyes, the light turning his amber pupils almost golden as his gaze swept over the buzz cut.

“Ho-holy shit!”

The buzz cut’s legs turned to jelly; he almost failed to stay upright and fell backward. Not daring to turn his back on Feng Tang, he stumbled backward in a panic, grabbing Shen Weinian, who was looking at Feng Tang with one eyebrow raised.

Shen Weinian had one hand in his pocket. He looked at the buzz cut with confusion: “What’s the deal? Who is this guy?”

The buzz cut turned pale and barely able to speak: “My lord, I beg you, let’s just run!”

Shen Weinian didn’t understand why, but he couldn’t resist as the surrounding people and the buzz cut practically carried him away toward the back kitchen. As they lugged him to the kitchen door, Shen Weinian looked back at Feng Tang with curiosity.

Feng Tang walked to the front of the warehouse. He loosened his arm, and the wood fell to the ground with a loud thud.

The heavy timber hitting the ground kicked up a cloud of dust.

Zhong Ming breathed a slight sigh of relief. He felt eased by the fact that Feng Tang had completely ignored him, but at the same time, he wanted to find out more about himself from the man.

Zhong Ming pursed his lips and shifted his gaze slightly toward the youth lying on the ground. He seemed to have lost consciousness completely, huddled there without moving.

At the same time, Feng Tang seemed to notice there was another player on the ground.

His gaze fell on the youth’s footprint-covered back. He slowly lowered the axe he had been carrying on his shoulder, gripping it in his right hand as the muscles in his forearm tightened.

Then, he turned his feet slightly.

Zhong Ming’s heart tightened, and he blurted out: “Wait.”

Feng Tang paused and turned his head slightly.

Zhong Ming regretted it the moment he spoke, but it was too late now. He took a breath, stepped out from the shadows of the warehouse, and walked to a position neither too close nor too far from Feng Tang.

“…He looks like he’s dying,” Zhong Ming said softly, eyes half-cast down. “Just leave it be.”

His gentle voice fell into the air, and for a long time, there was no response. Zhong Ming was a bit nervous; his throat bobbed slightly as he felt Feng Tang’s gaze land on him.

Then, he felt that gaze withdraw. Feng Tang turned back, axe in hand, and stepped past the fallen youth. He walked to the door of the back kitchen, reached down, and picked something up from beside the wall.

Zhong Ming looked up and saw that it was a massive wooden stump, placed just two steps away from the youth.

He was speechless, instantly frozen in an awkward spot.

Feng Tang turned back, passing the fallen player once more. He walked to the warehouse, placed the wooden block on the ground, and looked up at the frozen Zhong Ming.

“Did you think I would do something that useless?”

Zhong Ming’s cheeks flushed slightly.

Just now, he had fully believed Feng Tang was going to use that axe to hack the youth on the ground into pieces; scenes from Jack the Ripper or The Texas Chain Saw Massacre had already started playing in his head.

Feng Tang let out a snort of laughter. He withdrew his gaze, picked up a piece of wood, placed it on the stump, and swung the axe down into the center.

With a crack, the wood split in two and fell to the side.

Zhong Ming flinched slightly, his scalp feeling a bit numb. It felt as if that axe had just split his own head.

He felt a bit of shame and annoyance. It was because Feng Tang’s first impression had been so intense that he had misunderstood.

Zhong Ming pursed his lips, whispered a low “I’m sorry,” and started walking toward the back kitchen.

However, as he passed Feng Tang’s side, the man suddenly said: “You’re not going to help him?”

Zhong Ming stopped in his tracks and met Feng Tang’s eyes, realizing he was referring to the player on the ground. Zhong Ming looked back, gave the youth a brief glance, and then looked away. He didn’t understand why Feng Tang was asking this, and he shook his head with some confusion: “…No, I’d better not.”

While the youth certainly looked pitiful, Zhong Ming wasn’t so idle that he would lend a hand to save everyone. He simply felt uncomfortable with excessive slaughter and violence. It didn’t mean he had to save everyone, and Zhong Ming recognized that his abilities were limited; he couldn’t save everyone even if he wanted to.

Upon hearing this, Feng Tang raised an eyebrow as if quite surprised.

His hair and eyebrows were thick, with a few stray hairs extending down to below his brow bone. Zhong Ming watched as he slightly narrowed his amber eyes, his gaze sweeping over him in an ambiguous manner.

Zhong Ming didn’t know why this man could make even a look of surprise feel so aggressive.

And Zhong Ming did not like overly aggressive people. He was in a bit of a bad mood and decided to postpone digging for information until next time.

He lowered his eyelids, looked away, and said softly: “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going now.”

Feng Tang looked at him, saying neither yes nor no. Zhong Ming gave a slight nod and walked toward the kitchen.

However, just as he was about to step inside, the man’s deep voice rang out behind him: “Why aren’t you wearing a dress today?”

Zhong Ming’s feet faltered, and he gripped the doorframe to look back. Feng Tang was leaning on his axe, looking down as he pulled a cigarette from his pack and lit it: “Is it because of what I said yesterday?”

Feng Tang’s rough fingers held the cigarette as he took a drag. His chest rose and fell; the smoke circled in his lungs before he slowly exhaled. Through the swirling smoke, he curled his lips at Zhong Ming.

“Consider it my mistake, okay?” He tilted his chin up, brought the cigarette back to his lips, and smiled at Zhong Ming: “You look very good in a dress.”

Even when this man spoke with a smile, his expression was by no means gentle.

Zhong Ming looked at him, his tight lips turning downward. After a brief silence, he suddenly said: “It’s not because of you.”

He spoke in an incredibly soft voice: “The Duke gave me avnew dress. They haven’t been washed yet.”

With that, Zhong Ming lowered his eyes, avoiding Feng Tang’s expression, but he could feel the atmosphere around the man instantly turn cold.

He waited quietly for a few seconds. Seeing no reaction, he gave a small nod and turned to leave.

–

Why was I so direct back then?

Zhong Ming’s eyes were vacant as his hands mechanically used a wet cloth to wipe dust off a bookshelf. He regretted it slightly. He clearly still needed to get information about himself from Feng Tang, yet today he couldn’t help but mock the man. Zhong Ming let out a small sigh.

Just then, Albert’s voice came from behind him: “Why are you sighing?”

The boy stepped out from behind him, raising his emerald eyes to look at Zhong Ming: “Did something happen?”

Zhong Ming looked down at him and said, “It’s nothing, Young Master Albert.”

Then he saw Albert narrow his eyes suspiciously: “Really?”

Zhong Ming: “…”

Ever since Albert found out he wasn’t the first person to see Zhong Ming in a dress, he had found it hard to accept. The boy claimed to have a “crisis of trust” regarding Zhong Ming because of it. Not only did he demand that Zhong Ming wear a dress for him every day, but he also stepped up his surveillance of everything Zhong Ming said and did. It seemed he was terrified that Zhong Ming was keeping something from him.

Zhong Ming felt helpless, but he had always been extra patient with children, even if Albert only looked like a child. He nodded and replied, “Really.”

Albert stared at him for a while longer before nodding reluctantly. “Alright.”

He added a final warning: “Don’t lie to me.”

Zhong Ming lowered his eyes and nodded obediently. He turned around to place the wet cloth back into the bucket. Seeing him turn, Albert suddenly frowned, his gaze locking onto Zhong Ming’s chest.

“Can you stop wearing that dress?”

Albert blurted out. Zhong Ming turned back, looking at him with some confusion. “I could, but…”

Wasn’t it you who insisted I wear a dress in the first place? Zhong Ming was puzzled.

“…That’s not what I meant.”

Albert raised a hand to his temple, his gaze lingering on the emerald gemstone buttons at the neckline. His eyes flickered.

“Never mind. Just act like I didn’t say anything.”

Zhong Ming paused, then nodded. Meanwhile, he inconspicuously lowered his head to look at the gems on his collar. A few more suspicions began to take root in his mind.

Night fell, and a deep darkness gradually enveloped the entire mansion.

Zhong Ming left the nursery. As he stepped out, his right foot caught on the hem of his dress, causing him to stumble slightly.

While it wasn’t enough to make him fall, it was quite annoying.

Zhong Ming furrowed his brow. He felt a spark of admiration for Madam Mary and Joan; in his opinion, wearing these long dress was incredibly inconvenient.

Before delivering tea and refreshments to the Duke, Zhong Ming planned to change out of the dress.

However, when he reached the top of the stairs, he hesitated. After a moment of thought, as if realizing something, he turned on his heel and headed toward the back kitchen to retrieve the tea and snacks he had prepared earlier.

As he stepped out of the kitchen and crossed the main hall, just as he was nearing the stairs, a figure entered through a side door in the hallway.

Zhong Ming was caught off guard and nearly collided with the person, almost flipping his tray.

He looked up, startled, and met the man’s eyes.

Standing before him was the very player who had been bullied in the backyard that morning. The youth was still wearing the white shirt covered in black footprints. He was hunched over in apparent pain, barely staying upright by leaning one hand against the wall, one leg clearly limping.

It looked as though he had been lying in the backyard all day and had only just regained consciousness.

Zhong Ming frowned, steadying his tray as he looked at the unkempt youth.

However, under the bright lights of the hall, Zhong Ming realized for the first time that this player was actually very tall. Even hunched over like that, the youth was significantly taller than him.

It hadn’t been obvious when the man was curled up on the ground, but standing before Zhong Ming now, his height and frame far exceeded his own.

Zhong Ming knit his brows slightly. Lowering his eyes, he took a half-step to the left, intending to bypass the man. But in the next instant, the youth seemed unable to support himself any longer; he stumbled and collapsed right in front of Zhong Ming.

The youth’s knees hit the floor with a loud thud that made Zhong Ming’s own teeth ache just hearing it. Startled, Zhong Ming halted his steps.

“Ah… s-sorry…”

He kept his head down, muttering a few lines in Korean that Zhong Ming didn’t understand. Then, he reached out to grab the staircase railing, seemingly struggling to pull himself up. But after several attempts, he failed.

After repeating this a few times, he seemed to realize it wasn’t working. His movements stiffened, and then, as if forced to give up, he slowly sank into a kneeling position on the floor.

After a long moment, he looked up. Beneath his messy black hair was a face covered in grime as he looked at Zhong Ming.

“…Miss Maid.” He smiled helplessly, his expression weary and dejected. “I… I don’t think I can stand up… Could you please help me?”