Chapter 123

Ling Yue pursed her lips, looking at the man's visage; his father shouldn't have died at this time, he should have left two years later.

However, Ling Yue didn't say anything; she gave the consultant a deep look, and he pushed the Yellow Origin Turtle forward, seeing her solemn expression, he continued: "No matter the cost I can accept, as long as we can save the Purple Sandalwood."

His eye sockets grew redder; Purple Sandalwood was the name he and his father came up with together, Purple Sandalwood still exists, but his father is already dead.

Ling Yue: "……That's not necessary; here everything has its rank, as for saving it——"

She looked at the silent Yellow Origin Turtle: "I can give it a try."

She first activated the Budding Light Halo; the Yellow Origin Turtle in the box moved a bit, stretched its neck: "Being by your side is very comfortable, it reminds me of my friend, the happy days we spent together."

"Back then I was really happy."

Ling Yue's brows and eyes relaxed: "Do you still have that thought now?"

The Yellow Origin Turtle fell silent.

"Sorry, I can't go on living."

Ling Yue furrowed her brows, her Budding Light Halo raised to the maximum; however, for a turtle whose heart had long been dead, such fleeting warmth is like a match—it will burn and soon go out.

Using fire to warm ice and snow, it will melt quickly; using fire to temper steel, it only makes it harder and harder.

Yellow Origin Turtle: "I like my friend; I've accompanied him my whole life. If I weren't there, he would surely be very lonely alone underground."

It walked inside the box, showing uncommon liveliness, yet the words it spoke were all the more resolute.

The Yellow Origin Turtle's words made Ling Yue sigh: "Because there's nothing in the mortal world that would make you linger, that's why you say that, right?"

The Yellow Origin Turtle nodded: "To me, death is also a kind of happiness."

Ling Yue looked at the consultant: "Have you heard that grief exceeds death? It starves itself, harboring a death wish; I can only ask it what makes it so desperate."

The man's lips trembled, his gaze almost desperate fell on the Yellow Origin Turtle: "Purple Sandalwood is the only keepsake my father left me, boss, I beg you."

The surrounding people were also moved by those words, then curiously looked at the Yellow Origin Turtle: what kind of thing could make a turtle so desperate? Choosing suicide?

Ling Yue looked at the Yellow Origin Turtle and got straight to the point: "Why do you want to die?"

Having heard the whole process, the Yellow Origin Turtle stretched out its head: "Why can't I die?"

"Just as I said before, my friend passed away, I want to accompany him; you want me, a turtle, to keep living, I don't want to, and besides, he wants to keep me only to remember his father—you can tell him, after I die, preserve my shell."

"He is the one who bought me, but the one who has accompanied me my whole life is my friend."

In the turtle's narration, Ling Yue seemed to see the figure of a silent, reticent father who gave everything quietly.

This consultant's family background is not good; from a rural village on the plains, he struggled all the way to earn a doctorate, then joined a project team led by his mentor; after many years, he finally settled in Jing Shi and had a beautiful daughter.

His parents were the simplest farming folk; his mother died early, his father single-handedly raised him as both mother and father; later his son went far away to university, and only this son's purchased Yellow Origin Turtle kept him company.

Yellow Origin Turtle: "He really treated me well; it's a pity good people don't live long..."

"How are you going to save me? I no longer want to live."

Ling Yue's brows knotted tighter, a question loomed in her mind, but before she could ask it, the Yellow Origin Turtle said: "You can communicate with me, so can you tell him my friend left a bank card inside the little wooden horse given to him—that's all his savings; unfortunately he hadn't had a chance to say it before he passed away."

Ling Yue nodded; after she conveyed the Yellow Origin Turtle's words, the man looked at her in disbelief: "That little wooden horse?"

In an instant, before his eyes appeared again the boy who clamored to ride a big horse—that boy was himself.

"When I was little, I envied others and insisted he take me to ride a big horse; later he made me a wooden horse, because my father was a carpenter known for ten miles around."

"My father's hands were dexterous; he could weave all kinds of little bugs for me..."

At that moment, the hitherto silent little girl suddenly spoke: "Grandpa's little wooden horse? I know, I know!" She waved her little hands excitedly: "Grandpa gave it to Qiqi, Qiqi loves it so much!"

As she said this, her eyes sparkled, being held on her father's lap: "Dad also likes it."

His eyes glistened with tears, recalling how his father mysteriously prepared a surprise for him; that little wooden horse likewise bore his entire childhood.

But what he couldn't accept most was how sudden his death was.

The man suddenly burst into tears: "I've finally made it through; I can bring him to the city to support his old age, I can see him off in his final years—why did he die so suddenly?"

"My father was still so young, he was only in his fifties, he left too suddenly."

As the man spoke, his voice already trembled with sobs; to this day he hasn't emerged from the shadow of his father's death, unable to let go.

Likewise, Ling Yue saw the Yellow Origin Turtle in the box knocking on the sides with a dundundun, stretching out its long little head, it looked around and said: "He got it wrong."

"There's nothing so sudden about it; he had thought about it for a long, long time."

Ling Yue blinked slightly; the next moment she heard the Yellow Origin Turtle's explanation: "My friend died of poisoning."

Ling Yue stared in shock at the turtle, then at the consultant, instantly realizing something, she said: "How did your father die?"

"My hometown relatives told me he died suddenly of cardiac arrest; what, is there a problem?"

Ling Yue: "The Yellow Origin Turtle just told me he died of poisoning."

The consultant stared, then came the audience's gasps of shock and disbelief—what does that mean?

Are there still mysteries surrounding an elder's death?

The consultant couldn't accept it directly, his face turned pale as he dialed his hometown relatives; the surrounding people's discussion poured into his ears nonstop, and even he began to suspect whether there was something wrong.

His father was in good health—how could he suddenly pass away?

Ling Yue lowered her gaze slightly; actually, from the start, when the age of death didn't match up, she had wondered if it was the son who did it, but anyone who has killed someone bears an unavoidable blood-killing aura, and he is spotless, with nothing at all.

It wasn't him.

At this moment, the hometown relatives' call finally got through; the man, filled with grief and indignation, directly demanded: "Third Great Uncle, how exactly did my father die?"

As he spoke, his voice once choked up; the person on the other end fell into a long silence: "You found out?"

Upon hearing it, the man's eyes instantly reddened; he cried out in grief and indignation: "My father died of poisoning!"

"Why wasn't I told? Who bullied him? Who harmed him? I'm calling the police!"

He was like a volcano that suddenly erupted, startling his daughter Qiqi; after a moment, Third Great Uncle knocked on his ash pipe and said: "The one who drove him to death, isn't it you?"

"We all conspired to keep it from you, also for your own good; if you knew the truth, we feared you couldn't accept it."

"He suffered a lifetime for you; you should manage your own little household well, don't let him down."

Having said that, he hung up the phone; this meaning of refusal is obvious to anyone.

Ling Yue glanced over; the consultant painfully tugged at his hair, for no reason she felt a chill in her heart, then she looked at the Yellow Edge Turtle: 'My friend was poisoned, and also committed suicide.'

After she translated, these words were like a bolt from the blue; the consultant was shocked on the spot, and the onlookers were even more dumbfounded—suicide?

"Suicide? The old man's poisoning was suicide? Why?"

"I can't understand—he had finally made it, so why would he commit suicide?"

"Or perhaps he encountered something bad?"

As the consultant listened, his face grew paler; his mind repeatedly conjured the image of his father from recent days—a man who disliked big cities and residential complexes, who for the first time ever came to his own home and stayed ten days, bringing many things, all his childhood toys, chattering on and on.

He moved his lips: 'My dad came to see me—does that mean anything else?'

He looked pleadingly at Ling Yue.

Ling Yue looked at the Yellow Edge Turtle—

The turtle's small eyes, the size of mung beans, looked toward the last speaker, and it nodded involuntarily: 'If not for despair, how could my friend have passed away?'

Immediately, the turtle's rolling little eyes looked at Ling Yue: 'But that was also the last thing my friend could do for him.'

Ling Yue's breath caught; a thought pressed at the bottom of her heart, clearly on the tip of her tongue yet separated by a layer of paper, until she heard the Yellow Edge Turtle's next words.

Yellow Edge Turtle: 'More than a month ago, my friend was diagnosed with late-stage cancer.'

The old man felt unwell and kept putting it off, until eventually he couldn't bear to go to the hospital; the doctor in a white coat came down with the notice, and the old man, walking unsteadily, blinked: 'Cancer?'

"Although it's late-stage, I suggest you continue treatment; perhaps a miracle will happen…"

After a moment, the department's door was opened; he kept replaying the other's introduction in his mind—several hundred thousand—and his hands and feet turned cold.

It would be better to keep the money, save it for the child.

Ling Yue came to herself, a glint flickering in the depths of her eyes; she pondered for a moment, then finally spoke those words.

"Stop guessing—the old man committed suicide."

As soon as she said that, the people who had been discussing fell silent at once and looked at Ling Yue: 'Boss, what do you mean by that?'

"How can I suddenly not understand? How can poisoning be suicide…"

"Holy shit holy shit holy shit! I've got it!"

"I think I—"

Probably only the consultant was stunned; cancer, late-stage, his whole body trembled uncontrollably as he stared at Ling Yue in disbelief: 'No, impossible! My dad wouldn't do that!'

An unacceptable thought rose in his mind.

How composed must one be to voluntarily do such a thing?

Ling Yue gazed at him quietly; the problem that had long troubled her suddenly cleared up, though she felt she would have been better off not knowing.

Meanwhile, the Yellow Edge Turtle withdrew, and before shutting itself away it told Ling Yue the whole story: 'That day I stayed in the house, hearing him say to me, no, he seemed to be talking to himself, he said the old man had no talent…'

That day the sun was bright and warm; an old man squatted before the turtle, chattering about his son: 'It's a pity I only stayed a few days; I said a few words to him—when people get old, they can't say anything.'

"My little granddaughter is truly adorable; Grandpa can't see you grow up, but it's fine as long as you're happy."

He had long known that late-stage cancer was incurable, so he simply gave up—at least if he died, the money would remain.

Afterward, he fetched the □□ he had prepared long ago; this substance works fast—just a little bit, and a person will die quickly.

He didn't want to burden his son's family because of himself.

By the time Ling Yue finished speaking, the surroundings were already deathly silent.

The sole consultant burst into tears: 'I didn't know; I never knew.'

He was so distressed he couldn't control himself; all the scenes he had previously ignored flooded his mind—recently, his usually quiet and taciturn father had suddenly become talkative, but he was busy with work and hadn't noticed, or rather, hadn't paid attention.

Only later did he completely lose his father.

The room was deathly silent.

Ling Yue's gaze lowered, falling on the Yellow Edge Turtle, which nodded at her: 'I want to go find my friend.'

Ling Yue sighed; this was her first failure, she looked bitterly at the consultant: 'You don't need to pay me.'

The consultant startled, then heard Ling Yue's voice: 'I can't help you, I can't save the Yellow Edge Turtle.'

"It was very close to your father; it wants to go find your father, and I can't persuade it."

The onlookers nearby had already cried themselves to death.

"Was it just because the cancer needed money, so he went straight back?"

"Ahhh, why would such a thing happen!"

The consultant's face turned ashen as he looked at her; he stood up, suddenly staggered, collapsed to the ground, crying as he clung to the Yellow Edge Turtle, slumped over, and left the pet consultation shop.

Ling Yue suddenly thought of Lin Yang, then immediately laughed again; the two were utterly incomparable.

After finishing the last consultation, Ling Yue was about to close the shop when she suddenly heard a cawing cry; looking up, she saw a shiny black crow spread its wings and instantly swoop down onto the table inside the room, its long, large wings flapping open, and in an instant the crow lay on the smooth tabletop.

After not seeing it for a while, the crow had become ever more beautiful.

Even Ling Yue didn't know what it had been up to mysteriously during this time; when she asked, the crow said, 'I'm working!'

Ling Yue frowned, then noticed it was actually holding two hundred-yuan bills in its beak; as the crow opened its mouth and dropped them onto the table: 'Caw caw caw!'

"Master, here's your money!"

Ling Yue hadn't even reacted when she heard a girl's voice from behind: 'Big crow, how much farther?'

Immediately, she met Ling Yue's gaze, and also saw the crow completely collapsed beside her on the table, and she froze in her tracks.

The girl's face flushed red: 'You, you're the big crow's owner?' ， ，.