[Chen Yu Luo Yan]: Do not buy that sack of rice and bring it back here!
[Fa Shan Ke Chen]: I actually asked. This rice smells very fragrant.
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]: You can buy rice right in the village!!!!!! You’ve never even gone into the kitchen to smell our rice, how do you know it isn’t fragrant!!!!
[Fa Shan Ke Chen]: Got it, didn’t buy it. Someone already reserved it, the guy is out delivering it.
Smiling, Shan Yu slipped his phone back into his pocket.
A second later, the phone slipped out and fell onto the floor.
“Your phone, your phone.” The owner of the rice pointed at his feet.
“Ah, thanks.” Shan Yu bent down with some effort to pick it up.
“Put it in your inner pocket, don’t put it in your pants pocket,” the rice owner advised. “Otherwise it’ll just pop out for another stroll later.”
“Right.” Shan Yu tucked his phone into the inner pocket of his coat.
The rice owner was an older woman who talked a lot. Using the dropped phone as an icebreaker, she swiftly initiated a conversation. Upon finding out Shan Yu worked in the town, she launched into a solo chatting mode.
The past and present history of the town was crammed into Shan Yu’s brain in an incredibly fragmented manner.
If he hadn’t currently been sitting on her sack of rice, this droning, almost mind-numbingly dull chatter would have made him seriously consider pulling out his earphones and putting them on.
Fortunately, there was another auntie sitting nearby. Just as Shan Yu was nearing his breaking point, the keyword “daughter-in-law” triggered her involvement, and she joined the chat.
Shan Yu quickly closed his eyes, leaning his head back against some unknown pole or wooden frame, and pretended to sleep.
“Oh, my daughter-in-law is pretty much the same,” the auntie said. “Young girls these days don’t know how to do any chores. They just lie in bed playing on their phones all day…”
“What about your son?” the first woman asked.
“They’re both lying there together!” the auntie grumbled angrily.
With the auntie’s addition, the conversation finally became interesting. Shan Yu couldn’t help but smile.
“Then you can’t just blame the young girl for being lazy,” the first woman counseled her. “Your son is lazy too. They’re both lazy.”
“Young people nowadays are all lazy!” the auntie continued fuming.
Not necessarily. Our store manager isn’t lazy. Since he started working at Dayin, his total time off combined wouldn’t even add up to two full weekends…
When he stepped off the shuttle bus, Shan Yu felt as though his entire body had been compressed. He had to stand by the side of the road for quite a while before he slowly unfurled.
His phone chimed. He pulled it out to look, thinking Chen Jian had impeccable timing.
But the message came to his “work account”.
[Ru Wu]: Are you on the train yet?
[Shan Ren Du Yu]: No.
[Ru Wu]: I’m at the station.
Seeing this message, Shan Yu froze. He couldn’t help but tap open his ticket information again to make sure he hadn’t missed his train.
[Ru Wu]: I was afraid of hitting rush hour traffic, so I came early.
“Two and a half hours early,” Shan Yu sent a voice message directly. “Why didn’t you just buy a ticket to come pick me up?”
[Ru Wu]: There’s a train heading your way in 20 minutes, wouldn’t make it in time.
[Shan Ren Du Yu]: Fuck off.
Perhaps infected by Liu Wu’s anxiety, Shan Yu—who usually boarded at the very last second—used the business-class priority boarding lane for the first time today.
He sent Chen Jian a message telling him he had boarded, then told the attendant: “I don’t need anything, just wake me when we arrive.”
Ever since deciding to go home, he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep. Even if Director Lu hadn’t visited that day, his headache would have flared up anyway.
Now, he needed to use these two hours on the train to catch up on some sleep.
Chen Yu Luo Yan sent a message back—a photo of Mushroom curled up asleep in the doghouse.
Above the picture was a line of text: Puppy sleep spell.
Shan Yu’s lips curved into a smile. He adjusted his seat, put on his earphones, queued up some white noise on his phone, and closed his eyes.
When the train arrived, there was no need for the attendant to wake him; Liu Wu’s call came straight through: “Are you here, Ge?”
“You’ve been standing like a post at the exit for two hours, can’t you look at the giant display screen and see if it’s arrived?” Shan Yu said.
Even though he had barely slept for two hours, getting woken up with a morning temper—even from a ten-minute nap—could still pack a punch.
“You were sleeping, weren’t you?” Liu Wu asked.
“Sleeping my ass, I’m sprinting,” Shan Yu checked the time. “Ten minutes until I sprint there. Just wait.”
“It’s the North Exit, don’t go the wrong way,” Liu Wu reminded him.
“Mm.” Shan Yu sighed and hung up.
Then he sent a message to Chen Jian.
[Fa Shan Ke Chen]:Almost there. Liu Wu is already waiting at the exit.
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]:Did you fall asleep?
[Fa Shan Ke Chen]:I did. Right now I am brimming with energy and could scold Liu Wu for eight rounds straight.
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]:Are you going straight home after getting off the train?
[Fa Shan Ke Chen]:Don’t know yet. I’ll see what the situation is after I meet Liu Wu. I don’t know if he told my parents.
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]:Mm.
After sending that, perhaps recalling Shan Yu’s previous complaint, Chen Jian immediately followed up with another message.
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]:Don’t be scared.
One extra word.
[Fa Shan Ke Chen]:If I go home, I probably won’t have time to contact you until tonight.
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]:Mm, okay.
With a word count this forced, he might as well have mashed “Okay, mm, oh” all together into one message.
Walking out of the station, the poignant nostalgia of his previous long-awaited return was gone; his body was instead completely flooded with apprehension.
Seeing Liu Wu even brought a slight sense of comfort.
As Liu Wu ran toward him with arms spread wide as if preparing for takeoff, Shan Yu opened his arms and hugged him back, patting his back and throwing in an instruction: “We haven’t been separated that long, don’t get too emotionally invested.”
“Tired from the trip?” Liu Wu grabbed his bag off his shoulder.
“How tired can I be from sleeping the whole way?” Shan Yu said.
“When I came back, my back hurt from sleeping,” Liu Wu said. “It’s been three days and it’s still not better.”
“That’s because you sleep from morning till night,” Shan Yu said.
“I really don’t!” Liu Wu protested. “I’ve been going to gatherings since the day I got back! Gathering every single day!”
Shan Yu smiled without saying anything.
From the exit to the parking lot, a five- or six-minute walk, Liu Wu chattered excitedly non-stop. About school, about his classmates since coming home…
The only thing he didn’t mention was family matters.
Nor did he ask about Shan Yu’s itinerary for this trip. Although Liu Wu already knew he planned to go home, given Liu Wu’s personality, he should have been pestering him about it non-stop by now.
But Liu Wu didn’t bring it up once.
He was very obviously avoiding it.
Something was wrong.
But Shan Yu didn’t ask either. Some relationships were like rusted switches; turning them took a massive amount of effort.
And he didn’t dare turn it.
So he just stalled alongside Liu Wu in the most obvious way possible.
It wasn’t until they got into the car, sat down, and the engine was already running, that Liu Wu, unable to drag it out any longer, finally spoke up: “Let’s go to my house first, Ge.”
“Why?” Shan Yu asked.
“No one’s at your house right now,” Liu Wu said.
“How old am I?” Shan Yu asked.
“Twenty-six,” Liu Wu thought about it. “After New Year’s you’ll be twenty-seven, but you haven’t had your birthday yet…”
“Can a twenty-six-year-old not stay home alone?” Shan Yu shot him a look.
“Ugh, you beat around the bush so much…” Liu Wu sighed.
Shan Yu turned to look out the car window, then turned back to him. “Tell me.”
Having completed a semester of university, Liu Wu seemed to have matured a bit.
At this moment, hearing Shan Yu’s words, he fell silent. Staring straight ahead, his fingers tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel. After a long while, with a heavy sigh, he turned the engine off.
Then he turned sideways to look at Shan Yu: “Ge.”
“You haven’t had the chance to perform this profound, multi-step brooding routine for any girls yet, have you?” Shan Yu looked at him.
“Huh?” Liu Wu was taken aback.
“Polish it a bit more, you’re overacting,” Shan Yu said.
“I’m not performing!” Liu Wu yelled. “I’m genuinely hesitating! My mom told me not to tell you.”
“Hey,” Shan Yu nodded. “Now that’s the right vibe. Hurry up and talk, don’t make me smack you. Being a loving brother and dutiful nephew is better for everyone.”
“…My aunt is in the hospital,” Liu Wu gritted his teeth. “If you came back a few days later, she would have been discharged.”
Shan Yu felt his heartbeat freeze for a few seconds, followed by a sudden palpitation.
“It’s just a follow-up check. Don’t worry. She just has to go to the hospital every month for check-ups and treatment,” Liu Wu spoke rapidly, trying to get the second half out as fast as possible. “She’s already fine…”
“What illness?” Shan Yu asked. “Can you get to the point when you speak?”
“This is why they told me to let my mom tell you! She was afraid I’d lack tact…” Liu Wu furrowed his brows so hard his face scrunched up.
“Does tact cure diseases?” Shan Yu said.
“My aunt initially found a nodule in her lung,” Liu Wu said with difficulty, glancing at him every two words. “They suspected it wasn’t good so… she had surgery…”
“Lung cancer?” Shan Yu asked bluntly.
“…Yeah,” Liu Wu nodded hesitantly, then quickly raised his voice. “But they caught it very early! It didn’t spread or metastasize or anything, and the surgery was very successful. Right now it’s just follow-up treatments…”
“When did you find out?” Shan Yu asked.
“I only found out when I came home this time. If you hadn’t happened to come back right during her treatment time, they wouldn’t have told me either, probably afraid my loose lips would tell you…” Liu Wu rambled the entire sentence in one breath without pausing for air.
Shan Yu didn’t say anything else. He just felt it was a little hard to breathe.
He turned his head and rolled down the car window.
Cold wind poured into the car, but it offered no relief.
It was afternoon, and the sun outside was bright, but he felt as if his surroundings were slowly dimming, like an old photograph fading away.
“Ge,” Liu Wu called out to him, his voice sounding a bit distant. “Shan Yu? Are you okay?”
He lightly waved a hand, only to realize it was trembling violently.
He closed his eyes, slowly regulating his breathing.
After a while, the surroundings gradually brightened, and sounds returned to his ears. He heard Liu Wu’s voice, fraught with anxiety and a hint of tears: “I didn’t break it to him suddenly… If I hadn’t told him, he definitely would have beaten me…”
“Give it to me,” Shan Yu reached out and curled his fingers. “I’ll talk.”
“Are you okay now?” Liu Wu placed the phone in his hand.
“I was fine to begin with,” Shan Yu took the phone. “Aunt, it’s Shan Yu.”
“Little Yu,” his aunt’s voice came through. “Come to my house first. After we eat, I’ll go to the hospital with you.”
His aunt’s voice sounded quite affectionate. Although she had been the one with the biggest objections when little Liu Wu used to follow him around everywhere, hearing her worried voice after not seeing her for years still brought a wave of emotion.
“I’ll head there directly. Otherwise we’ll have to detour,” Shan Yu said. “Let’s not make it a hassle.”
“Then… alright. Have Little Wu drive,” his aunt said. “Your uncle and I will head over right away too.”
“Mm,” Shan Yu acknowledged.
After hanging up, he glanced at Liu Wu. His earlier reaction had probably scared him; Liu Wu’s expression was still very grave.
Actually, after Liu Wu hastily highlighted the key point—”Although it’s cancer, it was caught early, not a big deal, and she’s already fine”—Shan Yu had a very clear grasp of the severity of his mom’s illness. It made him anxious, but not enough to trigger such a massive physical reaction.
What had plunged him into sudden panic was another emotion entirely.
No one had told him about this.
If he hadn’t come back, or if he had come back at a different time, he might never have known.
Everyone believed he shouldn’t know.
Or rather, everyone believed it didn’t matter if he didn’t know.
His mother—falling ill, having surgery, undergoing treatment—everything was happening in a state where he wasn’t needed…
No one needed him. His closest family, facing something so massive, didn’t need him either.
Shan Yu pushed his seat back, leaned against the headrest, and closed his eyes.
“Ge, should I close the window?” Liu Wu asked as he drove out of the parking lot.
“Moderate cold exposure promotes longevity,” Shan Yu said.
Liu Wu didn’t say anything, silently continuing to drive forward.
After driving for a while, the rushing cold wind had frozen Shan Yu’s face stiff. He opened his eyes and glanced at Liu Wu. “That’s enough. I told you to pursue longevity, not to emulate a turtle.”
“You didn’t say anything, how was I supposed to know,” Liu Wu smiled and rolled up the window, then thought for a moment and asked, “How long can turtles live?”
“I don’t know. The old saying goes: A thousand-year bastard, a ten-thousand-year you,” Shan Yu closed his eyes.
Liu Wu froze, then snapped out of it and burst into cackles.
The road to the hospital passed through the area where he used to rent an apartment. Everywhere he looked brought back memories.
The rush of fragmented memories quickly diluted his previous emotions. He felt himself slowly returning to normal.
Walking into the inpatient department lobby, into the elevator, down the hallway, and past the nurses’ station, Liu Wu talked the entire way. The kid was a chatterbox to begin with, and right now, probably trying to ease Shan Yu’s tension, his words were packed so densely even a bullet couldn’t slip through.
“My aunt is in the private room at the very end,” Liu Wu pointed ahead. “She should be…”
Shan Yu grabbed his arm. “Wait here.”
“What’s wrong?” Liu Wu stopped abruptly, bewildered.
Shan Yu didn’t speak. He walked over alone.
The hospital room door was closed. Shan Yu glanced at the nameplate by the door, which listed his mom’s name and her attending doctor’s name.
After noting down the doctor’s name, he turned and walked back.
“What’s wrong?” Liu Wu chased after him to ask.
“Going to the doctor’s office first,” Shan Yu said.
“You’re her son?” Dr. He looked at him with some surprise.
“Yes,” Shan Yu nodded. “I’d like to understand her condition and treatment progress.”
“This is your first time coming to the hospital, isn’t it?” Dr. He asked as he pulled up his mother’s medical records. “I haven’t seen you before. It’s always your father and her assistant who come.”
“Mm,” Shan Yu acknowledged. “I didn’t… know before either.”
Perhaps having seen too many unfilial sons, Dr. He’s attitude was a bit cool, likely not quite believing this answer either. He added casually, “Must be very busy with work.”
“I was in prison,” Shan Yu said.
The hand holding the mouse paused. Dr. He turned his head to cast a glance, didn’t say anything else, and after opening the medical files, pointed at the screen: “Her condition is relatively good. Caught early, low grade, and the tumor’s location was quite peripheral, so the damage to the lung was relatively minimal…”
“Mm,” Shan Yu responded, staring at the words on the screen.
“The post-operative treatment has also been effective. If there are no issues during this month’s check-up, it’ll just be once every six months after that…”
Walking out of the doctor’s office, Shan Yu felt considerably more grounded.
When he returned to the door of the hospital room, he could hear people talking inside.
“My parents probably arrived.” Liu Wu walked over and pushed open the door.
“Little Wu is always like this, dropping the ball at crucial moments…” His aunt, standing by the hospital bed, paused mid-sentence and turned her head.
The room instantly fell silent.
“Aunt,” Liu Wu walked in, turning his head to look back at Shan Yu. “My brother is here.”
Shan Yu slowly walked into the room. The corner of the wall by the door obscured the head of the bed, so the first person he saw was his aunt.
“Aunt,” he greeted her.
“Hey,” his aunt nodded, glancing toward the head of the bed. “Your mom is doing very well, don’t worry.”
Shan Yu took another two steps forward. Only then did he see his mom sitting up in bed, looking reasonably well, with his dad and uncle standing beside her.
Three family members he hadn’t seen in years, all staring at him simultaneously. He skipped the process of greeting them one by one and said simply, “I’m back.”
“We didn’t tell you about this because we were afraid you’d misunderstand,” his dad spoke up first to explain.
“What kind of phrasing could possibly cause a misunderstanding about something like this?” Shan Yu couldn’t help but ask.
“We were afraid you’d think we were using this to guilt you into coming back, making it sound like we were making it up,” his mom said.
“Shouldn’t you use it?” Shan Yu asked.
