Reborn To Be The Imperial Consort [BL]-Chapter 109: Buds of A Marigold — IV

Born in the cusp of crime, wealth and danger as a hard diamond spoon that was unilaterally shoved in his mind, Li Xinyuan had only known stern coldness from the moment he could make conscious decision and understand everything.

Which was much too soon, perhaps.

Hailed as a genius that he was, as a child, his father — the Head of the Li Clan, a mafia and a full blown criminal organisation in one — had put the great expectations of the clan being led towards a brighter — or a dirtier — future on Li Xinyuan’s fragile shoulders.

While held and raised in the lap of luxury, to the younger him it had seemed like a cage. A terribly frightening and grotesque cage.

When other — normal — children were going to school, to kindergarten for whatever they were, Li Xinyuan had been thrust into a ginormous pile of disassemble firearms of varying sizes and types. The earliest thing he could remember himself doing was being made to assemble and disassemble firearms at the fastest speed he could reach.

From then on, it had been a harsh and dark journey for him. Perhaps a part of his mind had been twisted then, but he had grown up to be fundamentally different from others. It was as if, at his core Li Xinyuan was a completely different type of person.

Even he himself was not sure.

From assembling and disassembling firearms in seconds to being subjected to the merciless physical training to the point he felt no different than the people his father had as his fighters. By the time he was ten, Li Xinyuan was more familiar with the intricacies of the human body, the nuances of it, than a child his age should have been. When to fight, when to strike with the intent to kill, when to be decisive about taking a life; it all had been beaten and trained into him like an instinct.

But then... What had caused him to deviate from the path laid out for him by his father, the one he was supposed to take to become a man like he father was?

A single visit to one of the hospitals owned by the organisation had been the catalyst of his change of whatever remained of his dead heart.

There, the ten years old Li Xinyuan — a then cold-blooded killer with a few lives and blood in his hands — had an awakening.

Even though he was forced into this path, he did not want to continue treading down it. He wanted to be like that doctor who treated him and all the other patients with so much patience and kindness that it had made him cry till his lungs burned from pain.

He had curled up to himself, shivering as he tried and failed to convince himself that he had to lead the mafia, he had to be their leader, he had to be the one helming them towards the future that lay ahead of them.

Partially, Li Xinyuan had succeeded, burying that selfish desire in the deepest pit of his heart.

But alas, could everything ever remain concealed from his father’s all too keen eyes? No. Before long, his father singled him out and pulled him aside — metaphorically — (he had been summoned to his father’s office) for a chat.

At that time, when the ten years old Li Xinyuan expressed his desire to pursue a future in medical field as opposed to becoming the leader of their organisation called—

—Nihility.

Initially, his father had burst into a hearty laugh. But when he came to realise that his barely a decade old son was completely serious about it, he couldn’t help but grow curious.

"Why do you wish to be a ’doctor’ rather than being in my place, hm?" He had inquired, evidently curious enough to not dismiss his genius son’s words as careless a wish. "Is it not fun and better to be the leader and give out orders?"

The little boy held his head high as he looked up at his father, determination that was rarely seen in his eyes out of the battlefield or missions blazing. "I want to help people in pain. I don’t want to cause them more pain. I want them to live, I don’t want to kill them."

"Admirable ambitions, son." His father walked to him from behind his desk as he towered over Li Xinyuan’s little form even while squatting in front of him. "But you, who have only led a life of bloodshed, of death and murders; will you be able to suppress your primal instincts, hm?"

"Yes. Yes, I can."

"Interesting," his father had chuckled. "Very well, I will allow you to amuse yourself on the side. But I expect nothing but the best from you in both fields." He paused, his cold gaze pressing down on his son, the sheer pressure of it had Li Xinyuan falling to his knees. "You may begin to study for it. But what will you do, your mates would all be years ahead of you. Will you be able to catch up to them, hm?"

Li Xinyuan had nodded firmly. Within no time he caught up to them and even left them in dust all whilst leading a double life.

He had continued to live that double life in harmony. Until a single wrong, disruptive melody flowed in, destroying the beauty of it. A single ripple that caused a tsunami in the otherwise ocean, a single stone that sunk, leaving a rippling film of water in the pond of his heart.

That day, Li Xinyuan fell into a spiralling depression and wholly and pathetically abandoned his dual lifestyle, stubbornly sticking to becoming a doctor and then becoming one of the best for a decade and maybe longer.

The day his best friend died, the day he promised himself to never lead that same life as long as he could help it.

It had been an extremely bad day, in fact.

And those cuts that he got were all in honour of his best friend’s sordid and untimely doom.

He had not been able to attend the funeral in his own mourning but when he visited his barely scraped together, he knelt in front of the deceased’s headstone and said—

"Farewell, ◼◼◼◼. I will carry on your wish to save and treat as many as we could."