From Apocalypse To Entertainment Circle (BL)-Chapter 56: PTSD: The Wounds That Never Heal

The lounge room air was thick with an ominous tension. Father Xia sat rigid in his chair, his forehead furrowed in deep thought, his eyes locked on Sian with a sharp but sorrowful gaze. His three sons stood behind him, their own faces reflecting their father’s mix of bewilderment and sadness, their eyes darting back and forth between Sian and the suffocating silence in the air.

In contrast to the sombre mood, Mother Xia’s soft moans broke the silence, h; here replete with an unmistakable sorrow. She stood before Sian, her trembling hands caressing his face, tracing familiar contours as if trying to sear their warmth into memory. Tears streamed from her eyes, glinting like pearls as sorrow and longing etched deep furrows on her face. Repeatedly, she mouthed the name "Qinger" in a hopeless wish, thinking of calling out an essence from the depths of her heart. The grief bearing down upon her hung heavy in the air, accompanied by the muffled desperation of the men within the room.

Lan Qisheng opened his mouth to speak before realizing he was gazing at the odd aura about Sian. There was something of a glittering cloak of energy enveloped around him, and this flickered with a disquieting power. A charged air was vibrating in this tense energy and caused Lan to lose his thoughts rather than worry about what ailed Sian.

From the time Mother Xia visited him—or, that is, from the time Sian first laid eyes on her—the world beyond himself had stopped spinning. Time had also stopped ticking at that time.

The cacophonous din rang in Sian’s ears, each note a jarring one in a deafening discord of cacophony, and demented flashes of resplendent pictures whirled before his eyes like spectres. Each fleeting picture vibrated with intense power in his heart, stamping itself on his mind with irresistible force.

In the din, he heard a gentle voice ring out—a woman’s voice, maternal and consoling.

"My darling, don’t be afraid. Mother is beside you. Don’t be afraid," she whispered her words a soothing balm to his unsheltered nerves.

And then, quite as suddenly, the softness in her voice vanished under something much darker, something more urgent. It became cold and hollow, resonating with a frenzied desperateness that chilled him through.

"Qinger, run! You must live, my son... Live well..." she ordered her voice choked with horror and ravenous love, entreating him to flee the blackness closing in ever more relentlessly.

Ziming was the first of the Xia family to regain consciousness, surprised by Sian’s face—especially when he heard his mother saying his little brother’s name over and over again as she held Sian’s face tenderly.

Ziming instinctively moved towards the couple, determination running through him as he was about to intervene. He could already imagine his mother’s face in her eyes when he would lovingly inform her that this was not the son she had lost, that her heart had been tricked.

But when he went up to them, only two steps off, he halted suddenly in his tracks with the heart pounding inside his chest.

Why did he halt?

It was Sian—the same Sian who had hit him to the ground with ferocity, pummeling him with no mercy. But here, in diametrical opposition to the brutality he had experienced, he gazed transfixed at what lay before him. From lovely amber-coloured eyes, there flowed tears like liquid crystal, sparkling in the light and falling singly, as though in grief for some terrible loss.

Sian was crying.

Sian had suppressed pain in his old world. But since arriving here, it was like the hard shell he had wrapped around his heart—the mask of emotion—was beginning to crack. All of it was creaking open to reveal the vulnerable, weak soul beneath.

When Mother Xia saw the boy crying, she immediately pulled him into a cosy hug, rubbing his back gently.

"Don’t cry, don’t cry, my little one. It’s alright. Mother is here. Don’t be afraid. This time, Mother will protect you."

She didn’t realize that her words only made things worse. The tightness in Sian’s chest grew unbearable.

Mother Xia was identical to his mother.

A perfect replica.

The same face. The same hair.

In his own world, Sian also had white hair. That’s why, when he learned from Sian’s original memories that he colour-dyed his natural hair black, he went immediately and had the colour taken out to return it to its natural colour.

Lan Qisheng’s first reaction to Sian’s new appearance?

...He fell in love with him again.

Who, anyway, could resist dazzling beauty?

Since Mother Xia had Sian cradled in her arms, she did not notice how white he was—his face paler even than the earth over which they walked.

Someone else did, though.

Lan Qisheng could no longer remain silent. He saw Sian’s eyes reddening increasingly. He saw him trembling with cold sweat wetting his whole body.

He stepped forward straight away and touched Madam Xia’s shoulder with his hand.

"Auntie, excuse me, but let him go. His state doesn’t appear good."

At last, Mother Xia noticed the shaking body in her arms. She let Sian go obediently.

The next thing that occurred was everyone witnessing Sian fall to the ground with a big thud, grabbing his chest and gasping.

Lan Qisheng knelt beside him at once, holding the boy in his arms as if he were a fragile, valuable thing—which he was.

His heart was tormented, torn between the recollections which assailed him.

"Sian! Sian, stay with me! Look at me! You must breathe—breathe, Sian!"

Lan Qisheng tried to calm him down as he did in the woods when Sian had a panic attack. This time, however, it did not work.

This attack was worse.

"Darn it," Lan Qisheng cursed under his breath.

"What is it? What’s wrong with Ginger? My sweetie, are you all right? Tell Mother what hurts you," Mother Xia asked worriedly, kneeling beside Sian.

Lan Qisheng was about to push her off, ready to tell her that Sian was having a panic attack and couldn’t hear them—he needed a doctor.

To his astonishment, however, he heard Sian’s trembling, tear-stained voice struggle to speak:

"M-mother... Mother..."

"Yes, yes! Mother is here. Breathe, okay? Be a good boy and breathe," she coaxed, trying to keep his attention on her.

Sian fought hard. His breathing was still strained, but at least he was no longer choking himself.

"Xiao Qing... Good. So... don’t leave me... Mother."

Mother Xia wavered.

For the name Sian had just called himself by—Xiao Qing—was the name of her real, missing youngest son.

But there wasn’t time to do that now. She directly turned to her husband, who was simply standing there paralyzed, having no idea what to do.

"Why are you standing there idle? Call Doctor Gu immediately! Tell him to bring the entire medical staff with him!"

Father Xia did just as his wife had commanded him and called the family doctor. He even called a psychiatrist on Lan Qisheng’s advice.

Meanwhile, Ziming and Weilian looked at Sian, their expressions unreadable. But they could not conceal their worry.

But there was one who was not content.

Bai Yushi had been completely ignored since arriving at Lan Qisheng’s residence. But as soon as Sian arrived, all eyes were on him.

Bai Yushi burned with envy.

[What’s there to be concerned about by every single one of them that they’re worrying like this over a whore? They’re acting like he’s some prince! S**t, that’s my place! I’m the lone youngest son of the Xia family! Sian, wait here for me—I’ll make you pay for trying to take something that isn’t yours!]

All for all of these, though, Bai Yushi remained quiet.

He wasn’t a fool.

If he said something bad at this point, he would be criticized and hated.

Mother Xia continued whispering to Sian, trying to calm him down. He was better now, but his eyes were still unfocused.

It was like he was somewhere in his world.

If not for the fact that his body would move and react to Mother Xia’s voice, you would have believed that he was totally unaware of everything that transpired around him.

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Hello, my beautiful angels, how are you today? Did you miss me?

I haven’t written to you for a long time. Oh, well, I did write something yesterday, hehe.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this Chapter, although it’s awful and awfully sad.

No matter how much of a person looks like another, however nice and polite they are towards you, however. A copy will never be anything more than that.

Sian lost his mother, and even though this woman is his mother here, the fact remains the same—his real mother is dead, having given up her life for him.

Forget it. I’m not speaking another word, or my tears will just keep on falling. I’ve cried since yesterday.

These stupid hormones. I wish they would just disappear. (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠)

Bye little angels see u soon with another Chapter. ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

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