AD CH26

Chen Jian had truly never expected that he would be thrown off by a wheelchair.

In truth, the wheelchair wasn’t moving that fast, but his mental calculation hadn’t given it enough margin; before the wheelchair had surged forward more than a few meters, he had been shaken loose.

Yet in the very next instant, he gave chase for a few steps and grabbed hold of the wheelchair with a firm grip.

“Stop, stop, stop,” Shan Yu said. “Let go. If a scuffle breaks out in a moment, we’ll draw the security guards over.”

“Who’s scuffling with you?” Chen Jian let go. Though somewhat reluctant, he still stood back behind the wheelchair; if this guy tried to accelerate again, he could at least act as counterweight.

“You almost grabbed my hair just now.” Shan Yu ruffled the hair on the back of his head. “If you weren’t my manager, I’d give you a conceptual front flip right about now.”

Speaking of which, Chen Jian didn’t care what kind of breed a “conceptual front flip” was, but he was curious about something else. He leaned his forearms against the backrest of the wheelchair, bending down slightly: “Boss Shan.”

“What is it, Manager Chen?” Shan Yu tilted his head slightly.

“Have you trained before?” Chen Jian asked.

Shan Yu didn’t answer right away. He simply turned his head back to look straight ahead. It wasn’t until the wheelchair stopped in front of the elevator to wait that he spoke up: “I actually did train for a while. That’s one of the things my dad regrets most.”

“Ah.” Chen Jian responded very cautiously.

What was number two?

Why did he regret it?

Probably because after training, he lacked martial virtue.

Instead of championing justice, he committed wrongdoing… Too heavy. Instead of championing justice, he became lawless…

That seems even heavier.

In short, he didn’t do anything good.

However, he didn’t dare probe further, fearing that Shan Yu might suddenly demand an exchange and audit his household registry.

It wasn’t just a matter of whether to exchange or not.

Much like how he himself was reluctant to bring up matters concerning his family and parents, though Shan Yu’s family probably wasn’t like his, hearing the tone implied it wasn’t particularly pleasant either. If Shan Yu didn’t speak of it, he wouldn’t pry.

It was just that somehow, the topic had looped right back to fathers.

Chen Jian rarely encountered situations like the one before him. His dad was in the city, and he was in the city too—not just passing through or running an errand, but with a long, full day of free time.

Perhaps because of Shan Yu’s words, he found himself constantly thinking about his dad.

“That’s the fourth or fifth time already,” Shan Yu said.

“What?” Chen Jian asked.

“Sighing,” Shan Yu said. “Going on a business trip with the boss and sighing constantly without hiding it from the boss at all—that’s a bit much, you know.”

“I… did I?” Chen Jian froze for a moment.

“After buying the stuff, give your dad a call. If you don’t call, I will,” the elevator doors slid open. Shan Yu pushed the wheelchair joystick and rolled into the elevator. “Even if you don’t go see him, just chat a bit. If you sigh a few more times, I’m afraid you’ll run out of oxygen.”

Chen Jian didn’t speak and followed him into the elevator.

The elevator wasn’t very big. After Shan Yu entered, he didn’t turn the wheelchair around, so Chen Jian didn’t move either, standing alongside him with his back to the doors.

“Press it, third floor,” Shan Yu said.

“I thought you were going to draw a sword behind your back,” Chen Jian reached out and pressed the button.

Shan Yu let out a sigh.

Hypoxia, Boss.

The elevator stopped on the second floor, and the doors slid open behind them, but no one stepped in.

Chen Jian glanced back; standing outside were two middle-aged women.

Seeing him turn around, one of the women asked: “Can… can we come in?”

“Mm?” Chen Jian paused, then quickly nodded. “Yes, yes, come in. Going up.”

The other woman smiled and said, “The way you two were planted there with your backs turned, I thought something had happened.”

“No,” Chen Jian said. “His wheelchair couldn’t turn around.”

“The point is, you couldn’t turn around either,” the woman said.

Right, why was I facing the wall too?

Chen Jian turned around to face the doors.

“We embrace back-to-back…” Shan Yu suddenly burst into song.

Are you out of your mind?!

Chen Jian suppressed his instinct to sing the next line, stepping out hastily the moment the elevator doors slid open.

“Is there a place to sing in town?” Shan Yu’s wheelchair backed out. “Some day when we have nothing to do, let’s bring the crew from the shop out to sing. Day in and day out, everyone’s living far too ascetic a life.”

“…You have to go to the old town for that,” Chen Jian said. “I heard the equipment isn’t great.”

“Have you never been?” Shan Yu asked.

“Twice,” Chen Jian said. “For classmates’ birthdays, but I’ve never been anywhere else, so I have nothing to compare it to.”

“I’ll go compare it then,” Shan Yu snapped his fingers. “If it’s no good, we’ll set one up in our own shop.”

Chen Jian looked at him: “Boss, we haven’t even made much money yet. Spending money can wait a bit…”

“Pfft.” Shan Yu broke into laughter.

Following the instructions on the list, the two quickly found the store Hu Pan was looking for. Because Hu Pan’s notes were extremely detailed, the sales clerk gathered all the items in no time.

“Would you like a gift box?” the clerk asked. “Is it a gift for someone?”

“Uh… no,” Chen Jian waved his hand. “No need…”

“Is there a fee for the gift box?” Shan Yu, who was waiting outside the door in his wheelchair, turned his head and asked.

“It’s free,” the clerk said.

“Then why refuse it? Wrap it in a gift box,” Shan Yu said.

Chen Jian walked out holding the neatly wrapped box and placed it into the back pocket of the wheelchair: “Wouldn’t a plain bag have worked just fine? Wrapped like this, she’ll have to spend half a day unwrapping it.”

“Before this, did you never know any girls other than Xiao Dou’er?” Shan Yu asked.

“Saying it like that,” Chen Jian stood on the footboard, “you’re completely right.”

Shan Yu looked up at him and burst out laughing: “Hey.”

“Do girls like gift boxes?” Chen Jian asked.

“Not necessarily, but giving her the feeling of unwrapping a gift is just fun,” Shan Yu said while laughing.

“She bought it with her own money,” Chen Jian said.

“Fuck,” Shan Yu laughed even harder.

Shan Yu’s trip out for fresh air today was likely just to play around in the arcade. After buying Hu Pan’s items, he didn’t browse any other shops and went straight to the supermarket to get the snacks Zhao Fangfang wanted, along with some boxed pastries and the like, before exiting the supermarket.

“Take these back to the car?” Chen Jian asked. “There’s such a big pile.”

“Stuff them under the wheelchair,” Shan Yu said. “There’s a large pouch down there.”

Chen Jian squatted down to check. Sure enough, there was a big mesh basket beneath the wheelchair; surprisingly, the entire pile of items fit inside.

“This wheelchair is great for grocery shopping, fitting so much,” Chen Jian said. “And you can shop while sitting.”

“Tomorrow, let Zhao-jie drive it to buy groceries,” Shan Yu said.

“Nonsense,” Chen Jian smiled.

“Meaning you want me to drive it there myself, huh,” Shan Yu said.

“I just said it offhandedly!” Chen Jian patted the handle of the wheelchair. “Let’s go. Weren’t you going to go bother some kids?”

“What did I say just now?” Shan Yu asked, the wheelchair remaining motionless.

“Mm?” Chen Jian looked at him.

“Make a call.” Shan Yu raised his chin, looking at the pocket where Chen Jian kept his phone. “Since you’re already here, wouldn’t it be a bit unreasonable not to even make a single call? It’s just father-son awkwardness, not a father-son feud.”

Chen Jian leaned against the nearby railing, staying motionless and silent.

In the past, Tang Rui had always urged him to stay in touch with his dad more often and chat with his dad whenever something came up, but every time he agreed, he just agreed—most of the time, he wouldn’t actually do it.

The distance between him and his dad wasn’t simply a matter of spending little time together.

At first, he had missed his dad terribly, but gradually he realized that he couldn’t afford to miss him. His dad had to earn money outside, and his longing and concern might become an obstacle that would make his dad feel uneasy and guilty…

Shan Yu was different from Tang Rui. He was more direct and sharp, leaving no room for him to overthink.

Make a call, chat.

Go see your dad.

Since you’re already here.

Time after time, pushing him forward continuously.

He shot Shan Yu a glance, lowered his head, pulled out his phone, and dialed his dad’s number.

The phone rang on the other end, but no one picked up for a long while.

“Maybe he’s delivering food?” Chen Jian didn’t dare let the phone ring too long and hung up, worried his dad might be driving.

Shan Yu didn’t say anything, maneuvering his wheelchair over to the railing to look downstairs side-by-side with him. The little train from earlier happened to pass by below, though this time there were no kids aboard.

Shan Yu had no intention of leaving, simply waiting calmly.

After a few minutes, Chen Jian picked up his phone and dialed his dad’s number once more.

This time it rang four or five times before someone picked up on the other end.

“Wai!”

“Hello?” Chen Jian paused. “Who’s this?”

“Pi-li-pa-la-bong-a-zha!” The person on the line spoke in a heavy dialect.

“What?” Chen Jian subconsciously bent down, leaning closer to Shan Yu. “I’m looking for Old Chen. Who are you?”

“Pi-li-pa-la-zha’er-bong-a-la!” The person on the other end sounded a bit anxious.

“I can’t understand what you’re say…” Chen Jian knitted his brows, a wave of panic suddenly rising in his heart.

Shan Yu reached out his hand and took the phone: “Hello, you’re saying… what? Ah right, I’m Old Chen’s son’s…”

You’re his son’s boss!

Yet Shan Yu could surprisingly understand the fragmented language coming from the other end.

“Right, what? Please speak a bit slower,” Shan Yu continued speaking. “Okay… what happened to him?”

Chen Jian turned his head abruptly, dropping to one knee beside the wheelchair and staring fixedly at Shan Yu. What happened?

“Is it serious?” Shan Yu glanced at him.

“What happened?” Chen Jian grew anxious, asking in a low voice. “Did something happen to my dad?”

“Alright, which hospital?” Shan Yu continued asking.

Chen Jian squeezed his brows, trying hard to discern more information from the faint sound leaking out of the phone. When he called his dad a few days ago, he had been perfectly fine—what was going on now?

“What happened?” He asked Shan Yu again with silent mouth movements.

“Alright,” Shan Yu reached out and patted his face gently, gesturing for him not to panic. “Alright, it’s not far. I’ll be right over. Thank you.”

“What happened?” Chen Jian pressed the second Shan Yu hung up the phone.

“It’s nothing; don’t panic. Your dad crashed his vehicle yesterday,” Shan Yu said. “It’s not serious. He’s at the hospital right now.”

“Then why was he admitted to the hospital?” Chen Jian asked.

“He had to go to the hospital either way,” Shan Yu said. “Let’s go, I’ll take you there.”

The hospital wasn’t particularly close to the shopping mall, showing nearly ten kilometers on the navigation. Traffic on the streets was somewhat congested at the moment, making it hard to speed up.

“Is there a shortcut?” Shan Yu asked.

“This route on the navigation is the shortest one,” Chen Jian sighed.

“The person who answered the phone just now was your dad’s neighbor from his rental. From what he said,” Shan Yu shot Chen Jian a glance, “he got injured in the crash yesterday, and the neighbor only accompanied him to the hospital today.”

“Yeah. Usually, if it’s not a serious injury, he won’t go to the hospital; he’d just buy some medicine to rub on it himself,” Chen Jian said.

There was a left turn ahead, with cars lined up in a long queue. Shan Yu stepped on the gas, surging forward from the straight lane, turning the wheel sharply with a sudden brake, forcibly squeezing the car’s nose into the left-turn lane.

The car behind started honking its horn frantically.

“People are gonna curse you to death,” Chen Jian glanced back; the cars going straight were now blocked behind them as well.

“Unless they can beat me to death, they’ll just have to wait,” Shan Yu said.

“It’s not…” Chen Jian felt restless from the blaring horns behind. “That urgent. How about going straight and making a U-turn ahead…”

“Then wouldn’t I have been uncultured for nothing?” Shan Yu said.

Chen Jian didn’t speak again, looking at Shan Yu, once more sensing that quality in him that felt both unreliable yet deeply reassuring.

The left-turn light turned green. As the car in front started moving, Shan Yu stepped on the gas to surge forward again, pressing against the front of the car to his left rear as he squeezed into the left-turn lane.

The passenger window of that car rolled down, and a man yelled out in rage: “Fuck your mother!”

“Wait for my dad to finish you off,” Shan Yu muttered in a low voice, hitting the turn signal as he sped forward.

“Thank you,” Chen Jian said softly.

“Don’t say thank you right after words like that,” Shan Yu said.

Chen Jian paused for two seconds, unable to hold back a smile.

“Your dad isn’t in big trouble,” Shan Yu said. “Don’t worry.”

“This is my first time hearing that he got hurt,” Chen Jian looked out the window. “But this definitely isn’t his first time getting hurt. If I hadn’t made this call, this incident would never have existed in my world.”

“It’s the same for everyone,” Shan Yu said. “If anything happened to you, your dad would probably be the last to know, or wouldn’t know at all.”

“Mm,” Chen Jian responded.

“Am I amazing or what, pushing you to make that call?” Shan Yu said.

“…Mm.” Chen Jian nodded.

With the boost from Shan Yu’s low-courtesy driving skills, bearing the curses of drivers along the way, they arrived at the hospital ten minutes ahead of the navigation’s estimated time.

“Go on in,” Shan Yu handed him two boxes of pastries bought at the supermarket earlier. “Second floor, outpatient clinic.”

Chen Jian froze.

“They were bought for your dad in your place to begin with,” Shan Yu said. “Hurry up. If you want to thank me or cry, find a spot with no one around later.”

“…Mm.” Chen Jian jogged toward the hospital entrance. After a few steps, he turned back and pointed at Shan Yu: “Don’t go charging around everywhere.”

“Running you ragged every single day,” Shan Yu said.

Chen Jian ran up to the second floor and spotted his dad immediately in the waiting area.

Bandages were wrapped around his arms and face, his arm was in a splint, and one pant leg was pulled up, revealing a large area of scrapes.

“Dad,” Chen Jian walked over and called out.

“Ah,” his dad looked at him, awkwardly trying to pull his pant leg down. “You really… why did you actually run all the way here…”

An uncle standing nearby who looked older than his dad chattered something in dialect, trying to hold back his hand from pulling down the pant leg.

“Don’t move around,” Chen Jian stepped forward and pulled his dad’s hand away, then said to the uncle, “Thank you, Uncle.”

“Don’t mention it, we’re basically coworkers, helping each other out is only right.” The uncle’s accent was still heavy, but facing him in person, it was easier to understand than over the phone.

“The arm is fractured, right?” Chen Jian asked his dad. “Besides these… is there anywhere else hurt?”

“No,” his dad gave a faint smile. “I was driving a bit too fast, took that turn too sharp. A few days of rest and I’ll be fine.”

“An arm fracture won’t heal in just a few days,” Chen Jian said. “It’ll take at least…”

“It really isn’t that serious,” his dad interrupted him. “Did you come over with someone today? Did you drive?”

“Yeah, our boss…” Halfway through his sentence, Chen Jian’s phone rang. He pulled it out to check; it was Shan Yu. He answered: “Hello?”

“There are a few small eateries across the street, probably none of you have eaten yet,” Shan Yu said. “When you’re done, let me know and we’ll grab something together.”

“Mm,” Chen Jian responded, guessing that his dad wouldn’t agree.

Sure enough, the moment his dad heard he was out on business with his boss, that his boss had driven him over, and that the boss was inviting them to eat together, he immediately refused.

“Hurry up and go, don’t leave a bad impression on your boss,” his dad said. “When he offered to drive you over, you shouldn’t have come in the first place. You’ll make him think you’re getting arrogant just because you became a manager.”

“I’ll be mindful next time,” Chen Jian said.

“Go on, I’m fine,” his dad said. “Pass along my thanks to your boss.”

“Mm.” Chen Jian nodded, placing the pastries in his hand onto his dad’s lap. “Eat these.”

“Go, go,” his dad patted his arm. “Don’t worry about me.”

When Chen Jian walked out of the hospital main entrance, his whole spirit felt somewhat weighed down.

An indescribable exhaustion.

The way his dad repeatedly urged him to leave made him feel deeply uncomfortable, yet he didn’t know what to say, nor what he even could say.

Shan Yu was waiting for him in the parking lot, maneuvering the wheelchair to spin in circles beside the car.

He walked over and grabbed the wheelchair handles.

“Hmm?” Shan Yu turned his head, breaking into a faint smile when he saw him alone. “I guessed your dad wouldn’t come either.”

“He’s always afraid of leaving a bad impression on bosses,” Chen Jian said.

“Tell him his boss generally doesn’t leave a good impression on people either,” Shan Yu said.

Chen Jian gave a faint smile, staying silent.

“Let’s go eat then,” Shan Yu said. “I’ve been eyeing that beef hotpot place across the street for a long time. Business is booming, so it should taste pretty good.”

“I thought you had no sense of taste,” Chen Jian said.

“I’m not picky, not tasteless,” Shan Yu clicked his tongue.

The restaurant’s business was indeed quite good. Even though it was past peak mealtime, the main hall was still packed with people.

Shan Yu asked for a private room.

After ordering the food and watching the server leave, Chen Jian finally found an opportunity to speak: “Eating at a small table outside would have been fine; why bother with a private room?”

“Afraid you’ll cry,” Shan Yu said.

“Hardly,” Chen Jian knitted his brows, waiting a long while before adding another sentence, “It just feels pretty miserable.”

Shan Yu let out a soft sigh, poured a cup of tea, and set it in front of him: “At least you found out this time.”

“Mm.” The moment Chen Jian thought of his dad urging him to leave, a wave of sourness rose in his heart. He tilted his head back and downed the entire cup of tea, but still couldn’t suppress it.

Shan Yu turned his body, propped his forearm on the table, and leaned in close to him: “There’s about ten minutes before the food comes. If you want to cry, go ahead and cry.”

Chen Jian looked at him without speaking.

Shan Yu didn’t make a sound either.

A few seconds later, he suddenly leaned forward and pecked Chen Jian very lightly on the cheek.

Chen Jian’s entire body froze stiff, feeling his own breathing come to a complete halt in that instant.

The very next second was a thunderous roaring in his ears.

Almost like a reflex action, he swung his hand and slapped Shan Yu across the face.

“Ah, fuck,” Shan Yu leaned back into his chair.

At that moment, the server knocked on the door and carried in a few small side dishes, placing them on the table.

Chen Jian only felt his ears full of his own heart thumping loudly like a drum beat.

“Get me another can of Cola, please, thanks,” Shan Yu said.

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