Chapter 31: Let Me Carry You Back, Okay?

The descriptions in the book were too blunt.

Even with a straightforward narrative style, the emotions were already powerful enough to move people.

In the original story, it was repeatedly mentioned that the young Pei Heng had suffered a great deal of abuse.

And now, the scene from the book had become a real, vivid image before Jiang Yaoyao’s eyes. Experiencing it firsthand, her eyes turned slightly red.

She saw the small Pei Heng curled up in the corner of his room, crouched on the ground with his thin arms wrapped tightly around his knees.

His chubby little face was filled with fear, his large eyes staring into the pitch-black darkness of the room. Layers of cold sweat formed on his forehead, soaking his jet-black hair and making it stick damply to his face.

Children’s lips were usually rosy.

But young Pei Heng was completely different.

His lips were so pale they were almost colorless, and his entire face was nearly translucent.

Every glance he cast was filled with vigilance.

He was terrified of this room.

As if in the impenetrable darkness, a ferocious beast might leap out at any moment and swallow him whole.

The room was exceptionally silent—so silent that only his rapid breathing could be heard.

Jiang Yaoyao, with her tear-filled eyes, quietly watched the child curled up in the corner, her heart tightening painfully.

She stepped forward.

The soft sound of her footsteps echoed in the room. The child, who had been hugging himself tightly, looked even more frightened. His big eyes darted around, scanning every direction of the room. His voice trembled as he whimpered,

“Daddy…”

“Daddy…”

“I’ve really been good. I didn’t make Auntie angry…”

“Daddy, are you here to take me away?”

His frail voice carried a sobbing tone, filled with helplessness and grievance. Anyone with a conscience would be moved upon hearing it.

Jiang Yaoyao furrowed her delicate brows and stepped out of the darkness.

The child crouched on the ground was very small. From his perspective, all he could see were a pair of light apricot-colored shoes. On the fair, jade-like feet, there were black cross straps, resembling ballet shoes—something he had never seen that woman wear before.

The little boy, who had been shrinking his head to minimize his presence, slowly lifted his gaze. His eyes moved past the slender, evenly proportioned legs, landing on the swaying hem of a white dress.

The footsteps stopped in front of him.

The tall figure moved slightly and then crouched down.

A soft and gentle voice called his name,

“Pei Heng.”

The child who had been tightly hugging himself gathered his courage and slowly lifted his chubby little face.

What he saw was a breathtakingly beautiful face.

Watery apricot eyes framed by curled black eyelashes, delicate like a raven’s feathers—when she lowered her gaze to look at him, it was the gentlest expression he had ever seen.

She was beautiful.

More beautiful than any woman he had ever encountered in his short life.

With eyes like spring water.

Her gaze was clean and pure, and even her outstretched fingers were slender and flawless, like sculpted white jade.

Young Pei Heng didn’t dare to move.

He even forgot to breathe, just staring at her in a daze.

It wasn’t until that beautiful hand reached out and gently patted his head that Pei Heng finally realized—

Her fingers were soft, not carved from jade.

She moved carefully, gently brushing aside his damp hair before using a tissue to carefully wipe away the sweat from his forehead.

Her rosy lips curved slightly, as if sighing.

“So you were this well-behaved when you were little.”

Pei Heng didn’t understand what she meant.

But her movements were too tender.

She was so careful with him, her voice as soft as a spring breeze.

This was something he had never experienced in his four or five years of life.

He just sat there, staring blankly at this mysterious fairy-like sister, his dark eyes wide open.

Completely motionless.

The fairy-like sister wiped the sweat from his forehead and then began to clean his dirty little hands with a tissue.

She had a very warm personality, speaking as if they had known each other forever.

“Why are your lips so pale? Pei Heng, are you sick?”

The little boy shook his head vigorously.

He didn’t like talking much.

No one in this house talked to him often, and over time, he had almost forgotten how to communicate like a normal person.

After all, actions were enough to express his thoughts.

At home, he was always alone—eating alone, playing alone, sleeping alone.

No one took the initiative to speak to him.

They were all too busy trying to please the pregnant mistress of the house.

In this home, he was an unwanted, completely invisible child.

The fairy-like sister continued wiping his little hands, then glanced at him.

She smiled, her eyes curving beautifully.

“You’re not sick? Then why are your lips so pale?”

She muttered to herself, “Did your scumbag dad lock you up for so long that you got sick? Or did you really develop some illness?”

The child on the floor shook his head again, forcefully.

He stayed close to the fairy-like sister, breathing in the sweet and pleasant scent from her. His heart, for the first time in a long while, felt at ease.

After shaking his head, he suddenly worried that she might misunderstand, that she might think he was really sick and abandon him.

Hurriedly, he grabbed her sleeve with his small, dirty hand, blinking his big round eyes.

“I’m not sick.”

Please don’t dislike me.

I’m not sick.

Jiang Yaoyao couldn’t quite describe what she was feeling in that moment.

She simply smiled at him, then responded in a coaxing tone, as if comforting a small child.

“Okay, you’re not sick.”

“Then why were you locked up this time?”

The little boy looked at her with wide eyes and obediently answered, “Dinner.”

Jiang Yaoyao tried to recall the storyline from the book.

It seemed there was indeed an incident where the young villain, Pei Heng, accidentally knocked over a bowl while eating.

The arrogant and pampered stepmother happened to walk past at that moment and deliberately gasped in shock, claiming that he had scared her and caused complications with her pregnancy.

Pei Heng’s father, enraged, whipped the child and locked him away.

Jiang Yaoyao clenched her fists.

When reading this part of the novel, she had already felt deeply uncomfortable.

But standing here now, experiencing it firsthand, that discomfort had turned into pure fury.

How old was Pei Heng?

Just a little boy, barely kindergarten age.

Children at that age were naturally playful and energetic. Pei Heng was already well-behaved for his age.

Yet that wretched woman still refused to leave him alone, always seizing every opportunity to make him look bad in front of his father.

Jiang Yaoyao was burning with anger, her usually bright and charming face tinged with frustration.

The little Pei Heng, who had been looking up at her, clenched his fingers.

Had he said something wrong?

The fairy-like sister seemed upset.

Did she hate him now too?

Would she, like the others, push him to the ground and call him a motherless child?

Or would she turn away like the rest, coldly ignoring him?

There had been kind servants before.

They would call him “young master” and speak to him gently. One even held him in her arms and rocked him, just like the mothers he had seen on TV comforting their babies.

Pei Heng was happy.

But his happiness didn’t even last two days.

That young servant was called away by his stepmother and didn’t return until midday.

This time, Pei Heng gathered his courage and tugged at her sleeve.

But she never called him “young master” again. She never held him in her arms and rocked him.

Instead, she looked at him with fear in her eyes, slapped his hand away, and fled as if he were a venomous snake.

After that, Pei Heng still saw her from time to time.

But the warmth in her gaze was gone. Her expression had turned just as cold and indifferent as everyone else’s.

They all disliked him.

As soon as they realized his stepmother hated him, they would abandon him without hesitation.

This was the conclusion young Pei Heng had come to.

Even though this thought had been proven right countless times, he still held onto a sliver of hope as he looked at the fairy-like sister in front of him today.

His big, watery eyes gazed up at her, full of longing.

But the fairy sister’s face was filled with anger.

She suddenly stood up from the ground with a “whoosh,” not even bothering to wipe the dust off her hands.

Her white dress fluttered in the dark room as she strode forward.

Young Pei Heng bit his lip.

Bit by bit, he lowered his head.

It seemed like he had been abandoned again.

But it was fine.

He was used to it.

Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to fall.

Little Pei Heng scolded himself for being weak, for not being manly enough.

The next second, a slender, jade-like hand grasped his tiny fingers again.

Her fingertips were soft and warm.

“Come.”

A gentle yet firm voice rang out, like a victorious general returning from battle.

“I’ll avenge you!”

Little Pei Heng was dragged along by the young girl.

He looked up and saw her slender back and flowing hair.

She held his hand tightly, never letting go for even a second.

Pei Heng felt as if he were walking on clouds, his heart light and sweet, like he was dreaming.

The sky outside had already darkened.

Two figures weaved through the garden corridors, sneaking through the vast villa. Whenever a servant passed by, they would hide.

It was like an adventure out of a storybook.

Little Pei Heng couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Until she suddenly poked his cheek.

The girl’s eyes curved into a smile, sparkling with light.

“Look at me, so forgetful. I should have treated your wounds first.”

“We have plenty of time. Those two won’t be back until midnight.”

“I’ll treat your wounds first, and then we’ll get revenge, okay?”

Little Pei Heng nodded, his chubby face soft and round.

“Tell me where your room is.”

The girl bent down and opened her arms to him. “I’ll carry you back, okay?”

The child gazed at her eagerly, then shook his head.

Summoning his courage, he placed his small hand into her palm and obediently said,

“Hold my hand, sister.”

Jiang Yaoyao’s heart melted.

She followed little Pei Heng back to his room.

The Pei family was full of hypocrites who only cared about appearances.

At first glance, Pei Heng’s living conditions seemed excellent—his bed, wardrobe, and desk were all made of redwood.

But aside from the expensive furniture, there was nothing else.

How could a four or five-year-old boy appreciate redwood furniture? It was a miracle he didn’t find it eerie to sleep in such a gloomy room.

In any normal household, a child’s room would be bright and colorful, filled with toys—Ultraman figures and toy cars scattered all over the floor.

Jiang Yaoyao scanned the room.

When she glanced down at the small figure leaning against her leg, an aching sorrow welled up in her heart.

Pei Heng’s worthless father treasured his mistress above all else. Now that she was pregnant, he had even hired a private live-in doctor. The cabinets in the living room were stocked with all kinds of medicine samples.

Jiang Yaoyao clenched the ointment she had picked out in her pocket and crouched down.

“I’m going to take off your shirt and apply the medicine, okay?”

Little Pei Heng nodded obediently.

His tiny hands worked skillfully to remove his own clothes.

It was clear he was used to taking care of himself.

But when he turned his back to her, Jiang Yaoyao’s eyes immediately filled with tears.

She simply couldn’t understand—how could a father be so cruel?

His delicate skin was marred with bruises and whip marks, some dark and deep, others faint but numerous, as if they had accumulated over a long time.

As Jiang Yaoyao applied the medicine, her tears kept falling.

The ointment must have stung because little Pei Heng’s forehead was soon covered in cold sweat.

Yet he didn’t move at all while she applied it.

Even now, he didn’t cry.

Instead, he reached out his chubby little hand to wipe away Jiang Yaoyao’s tears, his soft voice full of understanding.

“Sister, it doesn’t hurt.”

That was the happiest day of little Pei Heng’s life.

The fairy sister applied medicine to his wounds.

She held him in her arms, gently singing a lullaby he had never heard before. Her hand softly patted his back.

He tried his best to stay awake.

But her embrace was so warm.

As the soothing melody wrapped around him, his thoughts drifted away, and he slowly fell asleep.

It was the sweetest dream he had ever had.

Since he could remember, he had never slept so peacefully.

But when he opened his eyes again, he was back in the familiar confinement room.

He blinked in confusion.

Then, his shoulders slumped.

He had been locked up for too long. Maybe he had started hallucinating.

He lowered his head and stared at the tiny patch of space he had.

That bright, beautiful face kept appearing in his mind.

He didn’t even notice when the door to the confinement room opened.

A tall male servant entered, his tone impatient.

“Get out.”

Little Pei Heng slowly got up from the ground and walked toward the door on his small legs.

But this time, he didn’t rush out like he used to.

Instead, he turned back and glanced at the room a few times.

His eyes were full of anticipation, as if hoping someone would step out after him.

A rough hand suddenly grabbed his collar, dragging him out with a curse.

Back in his room, Pei Heng still felt dazed.

His room was empty.

No soft lullaby.

No warm embrace.

Everything felt like a dream.

And now, he was still the same lonely child, unloved and unwanted.

Little Pei Heng sat down on his bed.

His fingers brushed against something.

He looked down, his pupils widening—

Lying quietly on his bed…

Was a used cotton swab.