DLRAS Chapter 63

Chapter 63: Do you still feel indebted to anyone?

“So, what was the final decision on how to handle her?” Huo Niansheng let out a soft “oh,” dipped the tips of his chopsticks into some ginger vinegar sauce, and sucked on them. The two were on a date, eating at the Wanghai Restaurant, the table between them piled with two heaps of discarded seafood shells.

“Watch your phrasing, don’t make it sound like we’re plotting a murder,” Chen Wengang said. “But anyway, she was hired.”

“You guys really are running a charity,” Huo Niansheng drawled, elongating his syllables.

“Funnily enough, Ma Wen said the exact same thing,” Chen Wengang replied. “You two truly are on the same wavelength.”

“That bearded guy? You watch your phrasing, Teacher Chen. Say it again—who am I on the same wavelength with?”

Chen Wengang smiled and let out a chuckle. Huo Niansheng poked around his plate, found a remaining piece of stir-fried crab, and casually dropped it into Chen’s bowl.

The middle-aged woman was named Jiang Wanxia, living alone with her daughter, Jiang Cai. A widowed mother and a fatherless child. Because of her situation, the school’s management team and the foundation had even held a dedicated meeting that dragged on for an entire afternoon. It was indeed a thorny issue. Ma Wen had shaken his head, clicking his tongue: “If we were running a regular company, we could just say, ‘We aren’t running a charity.’ But guess what? We actually are running a charity.”

The group hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry. Ultimately, Luo Suwei gave a nod: “Give her a one-month probationary period. Let her try it out and we’ll see from there.”

This outcome was a collective resolution passed by a razor-thin margin. But everyone knew they were purely playing the sympathy card. The school had already hired other janitorial staff and didn’t desperately need Jiang Wanxia. Letting her stay was simply because they couldn’t bear to see her with nowhere else to turn.

She had also mentioned that she and her daughter had been renting a tiny attic, which the landlord had just repossessed, leaving her unable to afford rent elsewhere. The school even temporarily allocated her a utility room originally used for storing tools, otherwise, the mother and daughter wouldn’t even have had a place to rest their heads.

Chen Wengang didn’t find this surprising, though he couldn’t help but sigh. That cramped utility room reminded him of his drafty, leaky shelter in the docklands from his previous life. Aside from having a roof over his head, he had been no different from a vagrant. It was Huo Niansheng who had appeared and taken him away back then.

As for Jiang Wanxia, she and her daughter settled in for now, though their future remained entirely uncertain.

Chen Wengang took a sip of tea. “She’s applied for all the assistance she can, but for uremia at her stage, she still needs a kidney transplant. Everyone knows the chances are slim, so no one wants to be the one to push her over the edge.”

Huo Niansheng also took a sip. “Are you guys also going to help her find a kidney donor?”

Chen Wengang shook his head. “She’s on the waiting list herself. But she says she’s been waiting for years.”

Huo Niansheng asked, “What about her daughter?”

Chen Wengang paused. “It’s not my place to ask too much. But think about it—even if they were a match, how could a mother bear to do that?”

Huo Niansheng simply raised an eyebrow, gave a nonchalant smile, and didn’t press the matter further.

Chen Wengang just hadn’t expected him to spare extra thought for this middle-aged woman, asking such a string of questions.

It seemed that, to Huo Niansheng, her appearance felt a bit too coincidental. However, at the end of the day, it all just boiled down to intuition. True, wealthy families attracted a lot of trouble, and it was always better to be safe than sorry, but no matter how you looked at her, she was just a haggard mother nearing the end of her rope.

After dinner, they strolled down the street, and in a few short steps, they arrived at the Lu household.

Chen Wengang was there for a visit. Lu Chenlong wasn’t in the shop; he was at home packing a travel bag.

Xiaobao ran out wearing a small backpack. “Look, an elephant!”

With proper intervention, it was obvious his speech had become a bit more fluent, but—

Xiaobao gnawed on his hand, thought for a moment, and laughed out loud: “I’m a retard!”

Chen Wengang paused, squatted down, and pulled the boy’s hand away from his mouth. “You’re not a retard.” He turned in the other direction. “Who called him that?”

Lu Chenlong was crouching on the floor checking a list. “Change of clothes, water bottle, toilet paper, wet wipes…” They were all items needed for the training room. He looked up helplessly. “We ran into some idiot on the street the day before yesterday… never mind, I won’t say it. If I say it, he’ll just parrot it again.”

Huo Niansheng leaned against the doorframe, and Lu Chenlong shot him a cautious, restrained glance.

Just standing there, this man didn’t look like an ordinary person; he even exuded a dormant sense of danger. To be honest, Lu Chenlong didn’t know why, but whenever Chen Wengang attracted romance, it was never a simple affair—they were always especially challenging. That Young Master Zheng from before had been troublesome enough, and now here was another one.

He opened his mouth and explained, “Wengang helped us secure a spot at their new school. The semester starts tomorrow, so we’re going to try it out.”

Huo Niansheng smiled and said, “Wishing you the best. If you ever need anything next time, you can also come directly to me.”

Lu Chenlong gave a polite word of thanks, still sizing him up. Huo Niansheng was currently taking Xiaobao from Chen Wengang’s arms. His strong arms hoisted the child high into the air. Xiaobao wouldn’t sit still, kicking and squirming until the soles of his shoes stamped two dirty prints right onto the front of Huo Niansheng’s shirt.

Lu Chenlong reached out and snatched him back, scolding him sternly. “Look at what you did! Nothing but trouble all day long!”

Huo Niansheng didn’t look the least bit displeased. “It’s fine.”

They chatted casually for a while longer before Chen Wengang said, “We won’t bother you anymore. We just came over to eat today, dropped by on the way to see how your preparations were going, and to check if there was anything else we could help with.”

Lu Chenlong hurriedly said there was no need. “Isn’t your house still airing out?”

Chen Wengang said, “Right. I was planning to go take a look.”

Arriving at his own front door, Chen Wengang took out his keys to unlock it.

Huo Niansheng also had a set of these keys; Chen Wengang had given them to him when he came to help tidy up the rooms.

Chen Wengang felt a little nervous entering the house. Huo Niansheng had sent him partial photos over the past few days, and he hadn’t felt much—it was just a place to live, and any setup was livable. This was the first time he was seeing it in person, and only when he reached the door did he suddenly remember he should feel a bit of anticipation.

He turned on the lights.

The illumination spilled softly downward.

The old furniture brought a sense of familiarity and warmth, resting quietly against the walls like elders who had watched him grow up. As for the overall layout, it was vastly different from his memories. But this new arrangement was better than before; the traffic flow was more logical, and the appliances were modern. Current styles couldn’t possibly remain exactly the same as ten or twenty years ago, and there was no need for a person to live strictly in the past.

Chen Wengang looked left and right, finding it quite novel.

Huo Niansheng trailed in behind him.

Chen Wengang’s interest was genuinely piqued. He walked upstairs; the staircase handrails had been replaced with new ones that were sturdy and no longer creaked. The attic originally had a mottled skylight, but it had now been replaced with new, clear glass that let the light pour in. Some cabinets and chests were left along the walls to serve as storage space.

Beneath the window sat two squat, wrought-iron lounge chairs, and a ring-shaped sofa bed had been laid out.

The lounge chairs sat close to the floor, facing the skylight, while the sofa bed was as soft as a ring of cushions. Lying in it felt like sinking into a cradle.

Chen Wengang was satisfied.

He was so comfortable he could fall asleep at any moment. “If I’d had a secret base like this when I was a kid, I definitely would’ve gone crazy with joy.”

Huo Niansheng sat beside him, resting his arm on the handrail, and asked with a smile, “So easily satisfied?”

Chen Wengang rolled over, turning to face Huo Niansheng. He raised his gaze; his eyelashes covered his eyelids as softly as moth wings, flickering and casting shadows on his cheeks as he blinked. “You don’t get it. Having a shelter over your head gives you a sense of security.”

“What kind of security?”

“I don’t know how to explain it. It just feels like as long as this place is still here, I won’t end up homeless.”

Huo Niansheng gave a soft chuckle, seemingly amused by his inexplicable anxiety over homelessness, but he didn’t say anything. He reached out and nudged Chen Wengang. Understanding the hint, Chen Wengang shuffled inward to make room for him.

The two of them squeezed into the lounge chair together.

The lights in the attic weren’t as bright as the ones downstairs; they were a soft, goose-down yellow, and a peculiar quietness hung in the air.

Occasionally, cars passed by on the street. Muffled sounds drifted from the neighbors—a piano, a TV, clattering pots and pans, a raised voice scolding a child—but they all sounded as if they were filtered through a glass cover, blurred and coming from very far away.

Chen Wengang lay on Huo Niansheng’s chest, his left arm wrapped around his waist, teetering on the very edge of sleep.

Until Huo Zhenfei called: “You’ve been working hard lately, but the current situation is relatively favorable for us…”

They were in such close proximity that the voice on the other end could be heard clearly even without the speakerphone on. Chen Wengang propped himself up a bit, only for Huo Niansheng to push him back down, keeping him pinned flat against his body.

Huo Zhenfei continued, “Grandpa’s health has shown some improvement. You still need to tighten your grip, try not to let the media spout any more nonsense… Jason and the others are buying back stock from the secondary market. No news is the best news.”

Huo Niansheng gave a few noncommittal “mm”s, not offering much of an opinion.

When Huo Zhenfei hung up, Chen Wengang was fully awake too. “What’s with you? Aren’t you afraid of me overhearing?”

Huo Niansheng tucked away his business-talk expression, shifting to one of teasing banter. “Since when have I ever been afraid of you eavesdropping? Unless you’re planning to sell me out.”

Chen Wengang frowned at him, then slowly relaxed his brow and let out a laugh.

Huo Niansheng hiked him up a little higher. “That would just give me a perfect excuse. No need to show mercy to a traitor.”

He started getting handsy as he spoke. But Chen Wengang remembered something. “Come to think of it, I really haven’t ever done anything for you.”

Huo Niansheng looked down at him. “Is that so? I’ve never really noticed.”

Chen Wengang paused, seemingly recalling things, and smiled with a touch of helplessness. “It’s always been you giving me things, you taking the initiative to come find me, arranging this and arranging that. But I don’t know any of your friends, nor do I know what you usually do.”

Huo Niansheng patted his back. “There will be plenty of opportunities in the future. Isn’t Li Hongqiong one of them? As for the others—forget it. If you count them up, there are barely any decent folks among them. You’re better off not knowing them. Do you really want to meet more people like Huo Jingsheng?”

Chen Wengang chuckled, and the attic fell silent for a moment. He found Huo Niansheng’s hand and placed his own against it, as if comparing their sizes. Chen Wengang laced his fingers through Huo’s one by one, interlocking their hands, before lowering his head and pressing his lips gently against the back of that hand.

Huo Niansheng slid his other hand from his back down to his waist. A light, measured weight pressed against him.

Chen Wengang suddenly called his name: “Niansheng.”

Huo Niansheng responded with his gaze fixed upon him.

After Houren Special Education School began its first semester of classes, Chen Wengang visited much more frequently, spending almost all of his spare time there.

Firstly, he had a lot of work to attend to; secondly, Lu Chenlong’s younger brother, Xiaobao, was taking classes there. Although the school was a targeted rehabilitation facility aimed primarily at the orphanage, Xiaobao had no parents and his only guardian was his older brother. Considering the practical difficulties they faced, and with the help of Chen Wengang’s connections, they had filed a special application with the higher-ups and successfully secured his admission.

Lu Chenlong dropped his brother off in the morning, handed his training bag to the teachers, and came back to pick him up in the evening.

Chen Wengang walked to the back door of the training room and looked in through the glass. The classroom was spacious and bright, its walls covered in colorful wallpaper.

At a glance, he spotted Xiaobao along with four or five other children, being guided through rehabilitation exercises by the teacher and teaching assistants.

Three girls and two boys, all with varying degrees of intellectual disabilities, abandoned by their parents. They were like seeds caught in the cracks of rocks, clinging to the hope that a flower could still be coaxed into blooming.

Chen Wengang recorded a short video, sent it to Lu Chenlong, and headed back to his office to work.

That day, Qiao Sijin came to the school for consulting work. Chen Wengang ran into him, and after discussing official business, the two happened to grab lunch together.

Chatting at the table, Qiao Sijin asked, “Have your previous issues improved at all? The emotional ones, and your interpersonal relationships.”

Chen Wengang smiled. “Don’t worry, much better. I guess I just wasn’t busy enough before. Once you get busy, you don’t have time to dwell on all that.”

Qiao Sijin also smiled. “Do you still feel like you owe a debt to anyone?”

Chen Wengang begged for mercy. “Everyone has times when they trap themselves in a dead end. If you want to leave me with any dignity, please don’t bring that up again.”

As the two conversed, they placed their trays back on the rack, only to hear a massive commotion erupting outside.

This was followed by a slightly shrill female voice coming from behind the building. But more than one person was speaking; they were arguing about something.

Qiao Sijin was clearly taken aback, while Chen Wengang and the cafeteria staff beside them all wore expressions of helpless resignation.

Seeing Qiao Sijin’s confusion, he said, “Let’s go. We’ll go take a look and break up a fight while we’re at it.”

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