The April breeze carried a lingering chill. Lin Yu, frail and gaunt, sat on the curb, pulling out his four-year-old Redmi phone. With a quiet sigh, he dialed his adoptive father's number.
The call rang unanswered. Lin Yu exhaled slowly, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood on his tongue. He wiped the corner of his mouth, fingers grazing fresh wounds on his face. If his adoptive father saw him like this, he'd be heartbroken and furious.
Better to wait until his injuries healed before returning. No need to worry them.
Just as he pocketed the phone, it rang. His adoptive father's name flashed on the screen.
Lin Yu hesitated, then answered. Forcing a faint smile, as if the man could see him, he spoke lightly. "Master, it's… Lin Yu."
A harsh cough crackled through the receiver, followed by a weary, middle-aged voice. "Yu'er… why call today… cough? It's Thursday. Shouldn't you be in class?"
"It's been a while. Are you… cough… doing well?"
Emotion surged in Lin Yu's chest, hot and overwhelming. He clenched his jaw, wiping dampness from his eyes. Forcing another smile, he said, "Master, I'm fine. Everyone treats me well. I just… missed you all."
He'd always prided himself on controlling his emotions, but a faint tremor crept into his voice.
A long pause followed, filled with the rustle of fabric, as if the man was sitting up.
"Yu'er, if you're struggling, come home," his master said, voice hoarse but firm. "It's just one more mouth to feed that's all."
"The temple's incense money are meager, but I can still work. Xiaoming and Xiaohui miss you. Just come back. I'll support you."
Dinghui Temple was no grand monastery, nestled in famed mountains It was a modest, overlooked place, untouched by tourism, barely surviving.
Xuan Ce, Lin Yu's adoptive father, had always done his best to sustain the temple and the three orphans he'd raised, Lin Yu, Jiang Ming, and Ming Hui. All were abandoned at the temple gates as infants. Years ago, when the Civil Affairs Bureau asked if he'd take them or send them to an orphanage, Xuan Ce, despite his frail health and limited means, chose to raise them. Fate had brought them to him, it was his duty to care for them.
After the call, Lin Yu rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a handful of change. He counted carefully, seventy-eight yuan and fifty cents.
In four years with the Lin family, he'd returned to the temple only three times. Not for lack of longing, but because every mention of visiting the countryside drew sharp rebukes.
"We've just curbed your bad habits, and you want to go back?"
"What's so special about that rundown temple? Can't let go, can you?"
"Go back, and don't bother returning here!"
Back then, Lin Yu had clung to a naive hope of fitting into the Lin family. He'd obeyed, endured, even snuck to the temple in secret. Now, he saw the truth, it wasn't worth it.
Dinghui Temple lay fifty kilometers from the city. With his meager funds, if he was going home, he wanted to bring something for his siblings.
Jiang Ming, fifteen, excelled at Hangzhou xxxx High School. Ming Hui, fourteen, thrived at Hangzhou xxxx High School with stellar grades.
Lin Yu's grades had once shone brightly, too. But the Lin family's endless conflicts eroded his focus. Now, he ranked tenth in his class, barely in the school's top fifty.
He inhaled deeply, fists clenched. From now on, he'd work harder, reclaim what he'd lost.
With resolve, he limped to a nearby street market. Forty yuan bought sneakers for Jiang Ming. Twenty yuan got candied hawthorn sticks for Ming Hui. Ten yuan secured a steamed bun for himself, to ration on the journey.
With what little remained, he set off on foot.
He'd barely covered five kilometers when a military jeep appeared, speeding toward him.
Behind the wheel sat a young woman in sunglasses, dressed in unmarked camouflage. She exuded authority, sharp, decisive, strikingly valiant. Her features bore a seventy-percent resemblance to Lin Yu.
Her gaze locked onto his limping form, and surprise flashed across her face. "Xiao Zhao, stop the car!"
Her name was Lin Shengnan, his fourth sister. Lin Yu had met her only a handful of times. A military academy graduate and captain, she rarely came home.
The driver, a rugged young soldier with a buzz cut, glanced at her, puzzled. "Shengnan, what's up?"
She squinted through her sunglasses. "That boy looks like… my brother."
Xiao Zhao chuckled. "Your family's worth hundreds of millions. Not the richest in Hangzhou, but still a big name. You think that beggar's your brother?"
Lin Shengnan's frown deepened. She studied Lin Yu a moment longer, then snapped, "I'm not joking. Stop the car!"
Lin Yu had noticed the jeep but ignored it. When it pulled alongside, he stepped aside, intent on continuing.
The door swung open.
Lin Shengnan stepped out, pushing her sunglasses onto her head. Disbelief flickered across her face. "Lin Yu, is that you?"
She strode closer, confirming his identity, then scowled. "You're supposed to be in school. Why are you wandering again?"
Lin Yu's eyes flashed with surprise, then dulled. He stepped back, voice flat, trying to hide his face. "Madam Lin, you're mistaken. My name is Jueyou."
His words confirmed it, she knew it was him.
But the way he was looking was nothing short of unpresentable.
Fresh wounds marred his face. His clothes hung in tatters, scrapes and bruises visible through the tears.
Her expression darkened with disgust. "Who'd you fight this time? Always causing trouble! How many times have I told you, stop dragging your countryside habits into the Lin family! Did my words mean nothing?"
Lin Yu exhaled softly. Just his luck to run into her.
He didn't respond. What was the point?
Prejudice couldn't be undone with words.
He'd tried explaining before. No one had listened.
'Lin Shengnan…'
She'd been the first Lin to meet her end.
While transitioning from the military to the Public Security Bureau, she'd tackled a case targeting organized crime. It cost her life, her throat slit, her body desecrated.
The worst part? The syndicate she'd investigated was tied to Lin Tianyang.
She'd never suspected, until it was too late.
But none of that concerned him anymore.