Passion Raga Novel (Completed) - Chapter 32

No matter how meaningless the words might have been, it was impossible for the beloved youngest son, cherished so dearly, to say that another man—even if that man was his own biological son—was like a father to him, and for that to be pleasant to hear.

And even if Ling Hwirung was displeased by it, Ling Tangyun couldn’t awkwardly interject with something ridiculous like, “Your real father, who is here, is more like a father.”

‘……’

For a moment, everyone lowered their gazes to the dining table and said nothing. Until Ling Hwirung slowly opened his mouth and changed the subject, saying, “Xinlu’s tea must be cold. Bring him a fresh one.”

And watching that servant, Yuri thought. Ling Xinlu, smiling beautifully, looked somehow spiteful.

Indeed, this was it. That feeling of being seated on a bed of thorns, even if you couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

Yuri felt he understood why Ling Tangyun, with his darkened expression, drank his tea and always maintained an ambiguous attitude towards his youngest brother. It probably included this aspect: rather than disliking or hating him, there was a sense of discomfort.

‘Why is this fellow acting spiteful again with such a calm face?’ Ling Tangyun looked at Ling Xinlu with a suspicious expression. Ling Xinlu, meeting his gaze, smiled brightly.

“Thank you for your concern. But I’m fine. Mr. Gable takes such good care of me.”

“Ah, is that so?”

“Yes. I know I’m particular, but he takes care of everything so well that there’s nothing for me to complain about. I’m truly grateful. It’s not easy to look after someone like me, is it?”

Ling Tangyun seemed to finally realize why Ling Xinlu had suddenly acted spiteful. He looked at Ling Xinlu with a strange expression, then closed his mouth. By then, Yuri, who had been standing quietly by the pillar, felt awkward. He rubbed his temples and blinked, and by chance, as Ling Xinlu turned his gaze, their eyes met. He looked at Yuri and smiled sweetly.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything—though he hadn’t intended to—. You can’t spit on a smiling face.

Yuri understood Ling Tangyun’s feelings. Whether for good or bad, he wanted to avoid contact with his youngest brother if possible. It felt like putting his hand into a snake’s den.

“Anyway, yes, I’ll see you on the weekend. Rest well, and I’ll see you then.”

Having finished his business, and since they met every weekend anyway, there wasn’t much new to talk about, so Ling Tangyun concluded the conversation with a light greeting.

“Yes, please rest,” Yuri said, finishing his farewells, and waited for him to hang up first before putting down the receiver.

Just as he hung up and turned around, Ling Xinlu emerged from the bathroom.

Steaming with warmth, his cheeks flushed, he came out of the bathroom and immediately took the glass of water Yuri was holding, looking at him.

“Who called?”

“Mr. Ling Tangyun called to check in. He asked me to convey his regards.”

“Ah, Big Brother,” Ling Xinlu nodded, his eyes curving into a smile.

“It must have gotten back to him that I visited the main house but left without showing my face. Big Brother truly has a lot to put up with.”

He even let out a feigned sigh, speaking in a pitiful tone, ‘That person isn’t easy to deal with either, but to be born under such a powerful father…’

Perhaps thirsty, Ling Xinlu emptied the glass in one gulp and handed the empty glass back to Yuri, then went to the living room. He picked up an apple from the basket on the table and bit into it. Then he rummaged through a wooden box, usually used for snacks, and pulled out some cookies.

There were more things one learned from living with a person than expected, and this was one of them. Though he didn’t seem like it, Ling Xinlu had a surprisingly big appetite. Eating while seated was normal, but considering the frequency of his eating, he seemed to eat about twice as much as others. ‘Where does all that food go?’ Yuri wondered, looking at him with curious eyes. Ling Xinlu, who was tearing open the cookie box, gestured for him to come over.

“Let’s eat together. I saw you only eating greens at dinner; aren’t you hungry?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Yuri, who had little appetite and ate small portions, shook his head. A gaze that found Yuri, in turn, curious, briefly approached.

“Then give me a massage. My eyes are tired.”

Ling Xinlu mumbled a cookie and lightly rubbed his eyelids. Yuri soon nodded and went to the bathroom to get a clean towel and a bowl of water. He then filled the bowl with warm water and returned to the living room.

Ling Xinlu complained of tired eyes almost every night. Perhaps he tired easily during the day, as he was sometimes seen pressing on his eyelids.

He seemed to dislike others noticing such signs, so he never did it when two or three people were present, but when he was alone with Yuri, he sometimes let out tired sighs. As if he didn’t want to show weakness even to Yuri, he would then, if their eyes met, show displeasure and coldly snap, ‘What are you looking at?’

It was the same when he had just left the main house and moved into this one. That day, on the way back from the rehabilitation center, the calls were unusually frequent, and Ling Xinlu received consecutive calls from his father and mother. His mother, especially, showed no sign of hanging up, and even when Ling Xinlu overtly tried to end the call, she would continue, “Yes, but…”

Eventually, after a longer-than-usual call with his mother, Ling Xinlu tossed his phone aside and slumped deep into the passenger seat with a displeased expression. He pressed and rubbed his eyes and temples, letting out a long sigh.

Then, he suddenly met Yuri’s gaze in the rearview mirror. To Yuri, who had been silently driving and occasionally glancing at Ling Xinlu, he suddenly opened his eyes fiercely and snapped, as if venting his anger:

“What are you staring at?”

“Sigh louder.”

Yuri said calmly. Ling Xinlu, who was just about to retort sarcastically again, paused, taken aback by the unexpected reply.

“Sigh louder. If you inhale deeply into your lungs and exhale loudly, your chest will feel more comfortable. You can hunch your back a little, and let your shoulders droop. It’s fine to lean back somewhere and close your eyes. Late afternoon is a time when everyone feels sleepy and languid.”

Ling Xinlu looked at Yuri, who was driving without looking at him and speaking indifferently, with a half-dumbfounded, half-angry expression.

“You, —”

Ling Xinlu, who was about to open his mouth to say something, instead just sighed. ‘I’m losing the energy to even get angry…’ he grumbled to himself. Only then did Yuri turn his gaze to him. Ling Xinlu, whose shoulders had relaxed, glared at Yuri with grumbling eyes, but that was all.

However, whether he listened to Yuri’s words, or simply found it more comfortable to ignore Yuri’s presence entirely, from then on, when he was alone with Yuri, he would sometimes openly display his exhaustion.

Just like now, when night fell, he would naturally lean his head in and demand, “My eyes are tired, so massage them.”

“Is it comfortable?”

“Yes, it’s comfortable.”

Yuri gently placed the hot towel, which had been lightly resting on Ling Xinlu’s eyelids, only after hearing his answer. Ling Xinlu, lying stretched out on the sofa with his head on Yuri’s thigh, mumbled like an old man, “Ah, so refreshing…”

“Refreshing?” Yuri repeated, tilting his head, and gently placed his palm on the steaming hot towel, adding a little weight. He stayed like that for a moment, then slowly, gently began to press around his eyelids, temples, and eyes.

It wasn’t anything professional, just placing a hot towel and rubbing around his eyes, but Ling Xinlu seemed to enjoy it, often lying with his head on Yuri’s thigh almost every night. With his shoulders relaxed and his whole body loose, he would calmly entrust his face to Yuri.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, not at all. It feels good.”

Ling Xinlu mumbled with a languid sigh. Yuri gazed down at him, who truly seemed to be enjoying himself.

He always looked at him, but when Ling Xinlu’s eyes were covered with a towel like this, he could look at him more freely. Even with his eyes covered, his face was impeccably beautiful and radiant. His regular breathing was also lovely.

As Yuri gazed, Ling Xinlu, with the towel over his eyes, smiled crookedly and said, “You’re going to stare a hole through my face.” It seemed he could clearly feel the gaze even without seeing. “I’m sorry,” Yuri replied, yet continued to look at him unconcernedly.

“How are your eyes?”

“The same. Just enough to distinguish light and shadow.”

It neither worsened nor improved beyond that. Even with consistent visits to the rehabilitation center, acupuncture, moxibustion, eating everything said to be good for eyes, and monthly detailed check-ups at the hospital, it remained the same.

“It seems it’s going to stay like this. Well, even at the rehabilitation center—though that’s how rehabilitation centers generally are—they focus more on helping you get used to living with one eye rather than improving your vision.”

Ling Xinlu, talking about his eye remaining unable to see for the rest of his life, showed no particular sadness or anger. Compared to him, who had already accepted this reality, it was the people around him who still grieved and raged as time passed. His mother was said to still take tranquilizers, so distraught she was on days she saw her son.

“I can accept that one eye doesn’t see now, but…”

Suddenly, Ling Xinlu’s voice dropped a little. A hint of exhaustion mixed in.

“It’s not just my eyes; overall, I’m more tired than before. I didn’t realize that having half my vision gone would consume so much energy.”

Ling Xinlu sighed deeply. Yuri gently stroked his eyes.

When he first lost half his vision, bumping into things while walking was common. For the first day or two, he would sometimes stop in his tracks while walking, as if his body’s balance would occasionally waver.

Now he was completely accustomed to living with one eye’s vision, no different from others, but that one thing remained the same: getting more tired than others as evening drew late.

“Should I do Mr. Gable’s too?”

Yuri paused his hand for a moment at Ling Xinlu’s sudden question, but he soon understood what he was saying and gently rubbed again, shaking his head.

“It’s alright.”

“Really? It feels really good. Putting a warm towel on your eyes and massaging them. I’m actually quite dexterous, you know. I’d probably do it better than Mr. Gable.”

As Ling Xinlu chattered, saying, ‘Mr. Gable is good, but sometimes I feel he’s a bit clumsy,’ Yuri quietly watched him, then stopped his hand.

“Would you prefer to do it yourself?”

He asked without any other intention, but at that moment, Ling Xinlu clamped his mouth shut. Yuri could feel his eyeballs rolling beneath the towel.

“No. I’m sorry. Please continue.”

Yuri quietly smiled, looking down at Ling Xinlu, who lay with his hands neatly clasped on his stomach like a good child. And he began to gently massage his eyes again. The towel was slowly cooling. The languid strength drained from Ling Xinlu’s shoulders, which had been lying in a straight posture. ‘It feels good…’ a sigh-like murmur escaped him.

That pleasant voice was somewhat languid, so Yuri, dipping the lukewarm towel into the bowl of warm water, quietly said,

“Sleep if you’re sleepy.”