NH chapter 024

Chapter 24: Suffering from One’s Own Actions

The hallways in this urban village are generally narrow, with poor sound insulation. Huo Ye sat in the living room, hearing the sound of the security door downstairs opening, followed by the increasingly loud footsteps of a person approaching.

Finally arriving at the front door, perhaps forgetting his keys, the wooden door was struck twice in quick succession, showing no patience at all.

Only Huo Ye was left at home. He stood up from the sofa to open the door, but just as the lock clicked, the door was suddenly yanked open, and before he could blink, he was hit hard in the face.

This punch was devoid of any emotion, only expressing a raw strength and rage. Huo Ye stifled a groan, staggering back a few steps, briefly seeing darkness in front of him.

Not wanting to air the family’s dirty laundry, Huo Lijun’s face was dark as he casually pulled the door shut behind him.

The first thing he said to Huo Ye was, “Kneel.”

The soft flesh in his mouth met the sharp canine tooth, a nauseating iron-rust taste filling the world. Huo Ye’s face was turned severely to the side, and after a two-second pause, he felt his throat slowly convulse.

He raised his hand to lightly wipe the torn corner of his mouth, feeling a subtle yet intensely sharp pain, and then looked up with a vacant expression in his eyes.

Huo Lijun walked into the room, looking around as if searching for something handy. When he pulled out a baseball bat, Huo Ye still stood straight, his knees showing no sign of bending.

In a sudden fit of anger, he strode over, raising the bat to smash it down on Huo Ye’s head.

Huo Ye quickly lifted his arm to block it. The hard, unyielding metal collided horrifically with flesh, and he heard the unbearable crack of his forearm bone under the pressure, as if his heartbeat had turned into a flat line in an instant. The pain was sharp yet lingering.

In what should have been a moment of intense emotion, Huo Ye actually spaced out, experiencing a surreal detachment.

The immense stimuli from the external world caused his spirit to momentarily disconnect just before the pain hit. He suddenly forgot why Huo Lijun was hitting him; it seemed like a blur of reasons he’d endured since childhood. Other than bearing it, it was better not to think too much.

Time felt like it was moving in slow motion as Huo Lijun’s anger-fueled kick aimed at his abdomen appeared to Huo Ye as a series of frames. Yet, facing the lithe and agile Liao Zheng, Huo Ye found himself unable to react at all. His body struggled to process his brain’s commands, feeling sluggish and laborious, almost as if he was not himself.

When his spirit returned to his body, Huo Ye instinctively curled up and fell to the ground as if electrocuted. A certain fragile organ in his upper abdomen twitched, and cold sweat instantly drenched his back, but he couldn’t tell exactly where it hurt.

His teeth clenched, blood leaking from his gums, and he could only make short, muffled sounds from his throat. His palm dug deep into his soft abdomen.

Huo Lijun stood in front of him, breathing heavily, coldly observing him like an animal shot by a hunter, crawling helplessly. It was as if he could easily control him again, just like when he was a child, finally fostering a secret satisfaction in his heart.

“Don’t think just because you’ve grown up and spread your wings, you can do whatever you want!” Huo Lijun emphasized repeatedly. “I’m your father, when did it become your turn to show me your temper?”

“I’ve raised you for so many years, what a useless child! Did I spend money sending you to school just so you could date girls?”

“How dare you hit someone? …Bastard, I’ll let you hit someone! Hit! Go ahead!” The metal baseball bat kept striking Huo Ye’s defenseless shoulders, chest, and ribs. Huo Ye only held his hands tightly against his abdomen, enduring the storm unleashed by his biological father without striking back.

“Studying for two extra years just to get into the second middle school, but you’ve barely studied for over a year and already got expelled. I might as well raise a well-behaved dog instead of you! If you don’t study, do you want to wash dishes for the rest of your life?”

“From today on, I won’t care about you anymore, whether you live or die has nothing to do with me! Anyway, you don’t want to study, and you can only score this little by copying others. I won’t give you another penny for tuition; do whatever you want to work or starve, it’s all up to you. You’re just like your mother, all so pathetic!”

“You just ruin your life like this, Huo Ye, you’re beyond saving.” The later remarks became blurry; all Huo Ye knew was pain. Huo Lijun, tired from hitting, threw the baseball bat aside carelessly, sat down on the sofa, and swore while emptying half a pack of cigarettes, leaving cigarette butts scattered everywhere.

In no time, he answered a call from a drinking buddy, stepping over the debris-littered room before slamming the door behind him.

Huo Ye lay in the middle of the chaos, motionless, still maintaining the initial protective posture over his abdomen, his face pale and devoid of life.

His phone had fallen nearby, cracked down the middle. Although the crack seemed minor, with time, it wouldn’t be hard to imagine how it would splinter and become completely unrecognizable.

At that moment, the phone screen vibrated and lit up. Numerous messages began flooding in from a WeChat friend noted as “Big Miss”—

[Big Miss]:

Where are you?

…

[Big Miss]:

Did you get home? Your backpack is here.

[Big Miss]:

Reply me when you see this.

…

[Big Miss]:

Huo Ye, answer the phone right now.

[Big Miss]:

Pick up the phone.

[Big Miss]:

Pick up the phone.

…

When Huo Ye regained consciousness, the old-fashioned wall clock’s hands were nearing seven in the evening. The house was unlit, engulfed in a cold, suffocating darkness, silence so thick it was almost deafening.

He lay on the floor, taking shallow breaths, the pain in his abdomen shifting from sharp to numb, feeling as if it wasn’t his body.

After two or three minutes, Huo Ye barely felt acclimated to the darkness. He blinked, using his hands to support himself while unsteadily getting up. He almost tripped over the baseball bat at his feet.

His mind was still hazy, and with no intention of turning on the lights, he dragged his battered body towards the bathroom. On his way in the dark, he seemed to kick something. He paused, then bent down to pick it up.

But as soon as he bent down, the pain suddenly resurfaced, fiercely tugging at his nerves.

“…” Huo Ye pressed his hand against his upper abdomen, realizing only now that Huo Lijun’s kick might have struck his stomach.

Cold sweat poured down like a waterfall; his pristine school uniform was already soiled, mingled with blood and footprints, an unsightly sight. The act of bending made his stomach hurt even more, yet Huo Ye, in a self-destructive manner, ignored it and continued, pressing down with one hand while using the other to retrieve the shattered phone.

He picked up the phone and lit up the screen, the first sight being dozens of messages, the top one from Shen Tingyu, followed by many more from Xiong Ying, Bai Feiyu, and Wen Shiyi.

Just a glance, and his stomach crammed with sudden cramps. The warmth of blood rushed up his throat, and taken by surprise, Huo Ye clamped his mouth, stumbling into the bathroom.

After a while, he hung his head over the sink, the faucet pouring water over the porcelain surface, yet unable to wash away the bright red blood.

Huo Ye coughed and choked on blood, feeling weak all over. Gradually coming to his senses, he realized that this seemed a bit serious.

He knew what he should do.

He had to call an ambulance or anyone.

But who to call?

Huo Ye had never shown weakness to anyone. In others’ eyes, he was always unruly and seemingly unbeatable.

Which person could he call that wouldn’t look at him with pity?

It was his meddlesome nature, and he had brought this upon himself.

Perhaps Huo Lijun was right.

He had long since rotted away, beyond saving.

Huo Ye slowly withdrew his hand that had been reaching for help, allowing darkness to engulf him. However, before the thought of despair could take over, a sudden phone ring started piercing through.

The ringtone was unpleasant, almost grating, continuously ringing without end as if it couldn’t be ignored.

It felt like a call from another world, crossing through dimensions of time and hell, braving mountains and rivers, miraculously reaching his ears.

Huo Ye swallowed hard, his mouth filled with a metallic sweetness, yet ultimately chose to answer the call, placing the phone to his ear.

The call connected, and after a few seconds of silence, Shen Tingyu’s voice came through, questioning, “You still know how to answer the phone? What have you been doing all afternoon?”

Huo Ye didn’t speak, keeping his head lowered to listen quietly.

Shen Tingyu’s tone was urgent, expressing displeasure over Huo Ye not answering his calls all day. He scolded him unhappily.

After scolding for nearly half a minute without receiving any response, Shen Tingyu began to realize something was amiss and abruptly stopped.

Once quiet settled, the faint sounds from the other end became clearer, allowing him to hear Huo Ye’s unusual breathing, obviously heavy with unmasked fatigue and pain.

An uneasy feeling tightened Shen Tingyu’s heart, causing his fingertips to unconsciously tense up, the phone slipping in his palm.

“Huo Ye, are you listening?”

Shen Tingyu forced himself to remain calm, asking coldly.

“…”

Huo Ye was just about to reply when another cramp hit his stomach; he quickly pulled the phone away as he coughed, his chest rising and falling violently for two seconds before returning the phone to his ear, his throat slightly moving, breathing faintly.

“…I’m listening.”

Shen Tingyu’s heartbeat suddenly slowed a beat.

Because on the other end of the line, Huo Ye softly said to him,

“Shen Tingyu.”

“I might not be doing too well.”