“Zhu Yun Hao, did you know? When I was a kid, I was so mischievous. My dad used to chase me down the streets with a stick all the time. But every time, my mom would step in to protect me. My dad really listened to her, so I always pushed my luck, knowing she’d back me up.”
This was the first time he had spoken in detail about his family, though he had vaguely mentioned his father once before.
He continued, “We didn’t have much money, but we were happy. Back then, I thought I’d live a carefree and joyful life forever. But everything changed when I was ten years old.
“I still remember it was a Friday. I’d won a trading card from a classmate and couldn’t wait to show it off. When I got home, though, my parents weren’t there. I thought they were out running errands, so I went to play with the kids on the next street. My mom would usually come looking for me at times like that, but she didn’t show up. When all the other kids were called home for dinner and she still wasn’t there, I started to feel uneasy.
“You know how sensitive kids are. I rushed home in a panic and found police officers walking around my house. My mom was sitting on the couch, crying uncontrollably.
“That was when I knew something terrible had happened. I asked her where my dad was, but she didn’t answer—she just kept crying. The police stayed at our house for a long time, but my dad didn’t come back. I don’t even remember how I fell asleep that night. When I woke up, my mom had already left the house. I wanted to find her, but I didn’t know where to start, so I just sat there, waiting.”
He turned to look at me, his eyes filled with a sorrow that seemed to spill over like the rising tide. “Zhu Yun Hao, have you ever felt utterly helpless? That day, sitting alone in the empty house, I was so scared I thought I’d die. The unease and fear ate away at me bit by bit, and I had no idea what to do.”
His words weighed heavily on me, and my chest ached as though the wind had hollowed it out.
He continued, “In the days that followed, my mom would leave early in the morning and come back late at night. Her eyes were always red and swollen. I asked her about my dad a few times, but she’d just cry every time. Eventually, I stopped asking.
“In our neighborhood, news traveled fast. Within a week, everyone knew that my dad had killed someone. The neighbors started pointing fingers at us. The kids who used to play with me refused to come near me anymore. Their parents told them I was the murderer’s son, that my blood was tainted.”
His words were laced with a bleakness that made my heart ache. Without thinking, I reached out to hold his hand. His palm was cold. I opened my mouth, wanting to say something comforting, but no words came. I realized that what he needed most wasn’t empty platitudes but someone who would simply stay by his side.
Seeing me hold his hand, he turned to me with a faint smile. “Don’t feel bad. I didn’t tell you this to make you pity me. I just wanted you to know.”
“I don’t pity you,” I said, meeting his gaze. “Pity is reserved for the weak, and you’re anything but. You’re strong, Chen Qiao Luo—strong enough that I can’t help but admire you.”
I couldn’t imagine going through what he had endured as a child and still having the strength to live on. That’s what he was doing—living, despite it all. While others might see him as a truant or a troublemaker, I understood that everything he did was for Auntie He Pei. He just didn’t want the one person he could rely on to suffer anymore. His devotion was something anyone would admire.
Compared to him, I felt like a failure.
With a self-deprecating laugh, I said, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you about my family. When I was in elementary school, my mom divorced my dad. Her reason was ridiculous—she said our family held her back. I’ll never forget the last thing she said before she walked out with her suitcase. She said she didn’t love my dad and didn’t want to spend her life with someone she didn’t love.”
0 Comments