BFILWY CH 16

Chapter 16: Why Does This Elevator Always Try to Trap People?

The two of them walked at a slow pace, stopping to rest several times along the way. As the sky darkened, An Yue suggested they head back.

This was Ye Qinghe’s first time using a white cane to navigate outside. At first, he was somewhat anxious, but as he gradually walked more smoothly, he began to relax. Only then did he start noticing An Yue’s small movements.

Ye Qinghe held onto An Yue’s arm as they walked side by side, with An Yue slightly ahead, guiding him forward. Occasionally, An Yue would shift his arm, causing Ye Qinghe’s position to adjust accordingly.

Just now, for example, An Yue subtly moved his left arm backward, shifting Ye Qinghe’s position directly behind him. In the next moment, Ye Qinghe stepped into the elevator.

A realization dawned on Ye Qinghe. The subtle adjustments in their positions weren’t just An Yue casually swaying—every safe and steady step he took was carefully calculated and guided by An Yue. Just like entering the elevator earlier, An Yue had deliberately moved Ye Qinghe from his left side to behind him, shifting their side-by-side stance into a single-file formation, ensuring that Ye Qinghe wouldn’t accidentally bump into the elevator doors.

Even inside the elevator, An Yue didn’t forget to teach him. He guided Ye Qinghe’s hand to touch the elevator buttons, helping him familiarize himself with their positions.

“Braille isn’t easy to learn, but at the very least, you should memorize the locations of the open and close door buttons, as well as the first and eighth-floor buttons,” An Yue said as he guided Ye Qinghe’s fingers over the panel.

Ye Qinghe traced the small raised dots beside the buttons, but instead of focusing on them, a memory surfaced in his mind—a scene of him bringing Little Blind in and out of elevators.

Little Blind had always been clumsy, constantly bumping into the doors or getting caught between them. Every time he hit something hard, Ye Qinghe would scold him: “Stop ramming into the doors. Elevator repairs are expensive.”

Frightened, Little Blind would rub his reddened forehead, nose, or arms while hurriedly apologizing.

It was always like this, as if he was at war with the elevator doors.

Ye Qinghe had never stopped to think—Little Blind wasn’t being careless. He genuinely couldn’t avoid it.

Back then, he had either watched from the side with impatience or found the scene amusing. If he was in a good mood, he might occasionally remind Little Blind to be careful.

But he had never considered how someone who couldn’t see was supposed to be careful.

If Little Blind had met someone like An Yue back then, he probably wouldn’t have suffered so much, right?

No—if he had never met him, then he wouldn’t have had to suffer at all.

Ye Qinghe’s hand remained on the elevator buttons, his thoughts growing heavier by the second.

With a soft ding, the elevator signaled their arrival at the eighth floor.

“We’re here,” An Yue said as he extended his arm toward Ye Qinghe and stepped out of the elevator.

Still distracted, Ye Qinghe accidentally pressed one of the buttons just as An Yue was walking out. To their surprise, the elevator doors suddenly closed, bumping into An Yue before springing open again.

An Yue was momentarily stunned. As soon as the doors reopened, he quickly pulled Ye Qinghe out and grumbled in frustration, “Why does this elevator always try to trap people?”

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry,” Ye Qinghe apologized awkwardly. “I must have pressed something by mistake. Maybe it was the close-door button?” He gave an innocent smile, but An Yue only rubbed his sore arm and shot him an exasperated glare.

Once inside the apartment, An Yue instinctively waved a hand in front of his nose, making a futile protest against the ever-persistent scent of blackwood incense that lingered in the air. After that, he went into the kitchen to wash his hands and began reheating the dinner that Aunt Chen had prepared earlier.

By now, Ye Qinghe was already familiar with navigating the house. He made his way to the bathroom on his own before slowly walking back to the dining table to wait for dinner.

After setting the food on the table, An Yue informed Ye Qinghe of each dish’s placement before starting to eat.

He glanced at Ye Qinghe, who was quietly eating with his head down. Normally, Ye Qinghe was quite talkative, but ever since they returned from their walk, he had barely said a word.

Sensing his mood, An Yue refrained from asking questions. The two of them finished their meal in silence. Ye Qinghe simply said he was tired before retreating to his room for the night.

Watching Ye Qinghe return to his room, An Yue cleaned up the dishes and tidied the kitchen. Left alone in the living room with nothing to do, he mindlessly flipped through the TV channels, going from Channel 1 to Channel 138 and then back again, but nothing caught his interest.

Just as he was about to head to bed, his phone rang. It was Aunt Chen calling.

He glanced at the time—11:30 PM.

“Hello, Aunt Chen? What’s the matter?” An Yue answered, puzzled. “Why are you still up this late?”

“Oh, An Yue, did I wake you? I’m so sorry,” Aunt Chen’s voice was filled with guilt. In the background, the faint wail of an ambulance siren could be heard.

“No, I haven’t gone to bed yet. What happened? Are you at the hospital?” An Yue asked with concern.

“It’s my grandson. He has a fever and severe diarrhea, so we rushed him to the emergency room. The doctor says it’s viral gastroenteritis, and he needs to be hospitalized for a few days.”

“Is the baby okay?” An Yue’s brows furrowed. Aunt Chen’s grandson wasn’t even three months old yet. Severe dehydration at that age could be dangerous.

“He’s doing a little better now. He’s slightly dehydrated, but he’s still crying with plenty of energy. My daughter-in-law, though—this is her first time as a mom, and she got really scared. She even cried when the doctor gave the baby an injection. I’ll be staying at the hospital to help her for the next few days,” Aunt Chen explained with a sigh. “I’m afraid I’ll have to trouble you to take care of the young master in the meantime.”

“Of course, Aunt Chen. Don’t worry about it,” An Yue reassured her.

“Also, the day after tomorrow is the young master’s birthday—”

Before Aunt Chen could finish, An Yue interrupted in confusion, “The day after tomorrow? Chairman Ye’s birthday is in November?”

“Yes, it’s on November 22nd, which also happens to be Xiaoxue^[1], one of the 24 solar terms,” Aunt Chen explained. “This year, he’s turning thirty. With everything that’s happened—the accident, his injured eyes—I wanted to prepare a bowl of pork trotter noodles for him to ward off bad luck, but now…” Her voice trailed off hesitantly.

“…” An Yue hesitated for a moment before saying, “But I don’t know how to braise pork trotters.”

“It’s simple. The young master always eats from an old family-run shop. I’ll place an order in advance, and on the day of his birthday, you just need to pick it up, cook some noodles, and pour the braised sauce over them,” Aunt Chen instructed. “And remember, birthday noodles should be cooked as a whole bundle—don’t cut them.”

“Alright,” An Yue agreed. He jotted down the address of the pork trotter shop before asking, “Should I get a cake as well?”

“No, no,” Aunt Chen quickly refused, sounding a bit anxious. “The young master hasn’t celebrated his birthday in years. Let’s keep it simple—just say it’s for warding off bad luck. No need to make a big deal out of it.”

“Okay,” An Yue replied, but he couldn’t help but ask, “Why?”

“Xiaoxue… is also Madam’s birthday,” Aunt Chen said sadly. “In the past, no matter how busy the young master was, he always made time to come home and celebrate his birthday with his family. But after the chairman, madam, and eldest young master passed away… he stopped celebrating altogether.”

After ending the call, An Yue turned to look at Ye Qinghe’s bedroom door, deep in thought.

So that’s why… His birthday is coming up, and Chairman Ye is thinking about his family, isn’t he?

(To be continued…)