Chapter 2: Six Years Ago

Huff.

Huff.

Huff.

The sound of his breathing and shoe against concrete rang through his ears. It was rhythmic but fast, enough to bring clarity to his raging mind. His muscles spasmed or cramped, perhaps from over exertion. Then what happened last night brought new strength to his already tired body; a burst of adrenaline rush that kept Leng Mo going.

[The Night Before, Song Family Dinner]

"Hahaha!" A joyous laughter greeted him beyond the door. A rare occasion within the family or so he thought. The glaring chandelier that was never powered on in any of his or his brother's birthday blinded him, but nothing's more blinding that the sight before him.

'Che—For sure the "real son" returned home again,' Leng Mo thought as he took a deep breath before stepping into the dining hall. As expected, that hypocrite who only knew how to flatter that old hag of a mother of his was sitting on the young master's seat position.

Leng Mo clicked his tongue at the sight. Seriously, he'd rather starve than hear this bastard's nonsense. The clattering noises and laughter grew louder—almost deafening him. The most sickening part was that his mom was smiling happily while urging the bastard to eat.

Tch. Really…What a great sight to behold. He scanned his gaze over those familiar faces but was interrupted by the 'sudden' question.

"Mo? Why do you keep standing there? Come up and ea—"

"He's full," A high yet cold voice cut the bastard off. Leng Mo looked at the middle-aged woman sitting across him, tending his perfect cousin like a loving mother. To be exact, the people in front of him looked like a happy family—except for the kid sitting at the corner stabbing broccoli with his fork. He looked like a servant's son who's out of place than a young master on that table.

Tck. An urge to be rampant rose within him. Surely, no matter how many times he saw such sight from childhood till now, it still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

��Hahaha," Mrs. Song's giggle rang through the room; eyes never leaving her dearest—son. She wiped her lips with a cloth then took a sip of her favorite wine before sighing, "If only I had a son like yo—"

Crash!

The sound of silver against ceramic interrupted her amidst speech, followed by a restrained whimper.

"S-sorry, mom!" Xaio Mu mumbled under his breath, eyes panicking at the mess he made. Leng Mo took a step forward but Mrs. Song shot him a glare, tilted to her left then shook her head, "Really a pity," she sighed then averted her eyes to Yao Yan, "Xiao Yan, did the noise make you lose your appetite?"

Yao Yan, the bastard, placed down his utensils then locked his gaze on the shivering Xiao Mu two seats from his left. He gave a knowing smile then replied, "It's okay, Auntie. Xiao Mu is still a kid, we can still teach him proper etiquette." He purposely dragged then words proper etiquette to ire the silent Leng Mo.

Leng Mo frowned at the double-laced words uttered by that shit. He knew, coz the bastard's eyes gave him away.

Damnit! Leng Mo kicked off a stone sitting around then gasped for air.

Hah.

Hah.

Hahh.

If only he could go out there and smash that piece of shit of a cousin of his. Life would've been better without him stinking around.

Leng Mo paused then walked to a nearby bench. His muscle spasm intensified, making him feel a bout of helplessness. He never knew where the helplessness came from. Was it from his tired body? Or his reality that kept slapping him?

If only… Fck! Another bunch of ifs again. Leng Mo slapped himself awake, preventing himself from falling for the gloomy feeling.

Complaining does not work and what ifs were just words. Nothing will happen no matter how much he complained. Leng Mo believed so… or he forced himself to believe in. He couldn't fall down at any cost, not until Xiao Mu grows up into an able adult.

What if he was stronger? What if his grandpa was not dead? Fck that shit! He has long accepted the harsh reality he was in. There were no reversals in life, so he could only move forward. But then again, the fear he saw in Xiao Mu's eyes that night and his trembling body said it all. There's no need to doubt, the little kid's unloved.

He heard it… his baby brother's plea and shattering heart.

"Damn—" Leng Mo swore under his breath; his weakness told him otherwise. He forced himself to go for another lap when a stinging pain ran through his chest. Something big just hit him and the recoil was too strong that it took him a few steps to stabilize.

"Fuck!" Who's so blind in broad daylight?! Leng Mo patted his chest while looking down.

Seriously, this day could've never gotten worse! The sudden interruption dropped his rising mood, but the sight of a girl sitting on her bottom eased it.

"Tch, blind pig," Leng Mo snorted.

He jogged a few steps when another bout of pain hit him. This time, it was at the back of his head.

"Asshole! Who are you calling a pig?!" A tigress—no, a wild boar, greeted him; glaring at its prey with one less shoe on.

Leng Mo walked over to where the shoe landed and picked it.

He's not petty, but he's an asshole when circumstances need it.

Dusting the shoe clean, Leng Mo bent down, held her shoe with both hands and made a shooting motion. Three points! The shoe drew an arc in the air and landed inside the bin. The sound of cheering echoed through his mind like in the basketball anime he watched as a kid.

Leng Mo smirked at his masterpiece then winked at the boar, "I threw the trash for you. You're welcome," then he stepped on his heel and jogged again.

He'd love to stay for this exciting banter, but Leng Mo's too damn today to give a shit, not that he was not being shitty himself just a while ago. For nuisances, it's best to cut them right off the bat, regardless of gender or—race.

........