2

Nian Jinsi sneered: "You can't even take care of yourself, yet you want to take care of others."

Zhuang Xiaodie turned her head and looked at her: "Well, why don't you come? If you can really take care of yourself, why would you run so far to drag me away?"

Nian Jinsi's face darkened. Zhuang Xiaodie crossed her legs, folded her hands on her knees, and looked at her leisurely.

"Don't forget—"

"You'd better only bring it up at the right time. This isn't your bargaining chip." Zhuang Xiaodie said coldly. She stood up and walked to Nian Jinsi's side, whispering close to her ear, "—It's your leverage."

Zhuang Xiaodie strode across the yard and entered the restaurant through the back door. She saw a man sitting behind the cashier watching short videos, so loud that people outside could hear him. Zhuang Xiaodie felt irritated and lit a cigarette. She had successfully quit smoking for several years - in fact, she was forced not to smoke, after all, she had not had a penny in the past few years. After all this busy work, the chicken soup was almost cooked to the bottom. Zhuang Xiaodie turned off the fire and asked the man to add more soup. The man sat on the bench with his butt glued to the screen of his mobile phone, and shouted something with his head tilted. Zhuang Xiaodie looked at him, but heard no response. The man waited for two seconds, shouted again in a raised voice, suddenly threw his mobile phone on the table, stood up and went into the kitchen. The mobile phone fell outside, and played the laughter of a person like a deflating balloon over and over again. Zhuang Xiaodie took a deep breath of smoke.

At this time, Nian Jinsi walked in and sat down, his eyes fixed on the cigarette between Zhuang Xiaodie's fingers: "Put out your stinky cigarette, I don't want to get lung cancer."

Just then, the boss came over with a kettle to pour soup. Zhuang Xiaodie was about to speak when she caught a glimpse of a red mark on the boss's arm. She fell silent for a moment, not wanting to lash out at Nian Jinsi, so she put out her cigarette on the plate. But then she leaned back and saw another slap mark on the boss's face.

Zhuang Xiaodie and Nian Jinsi looked at each other. At this time, the man walked out, sat back behind the cashier counter, picked up his mobile phone, and slid from one annoying laugh to the next.

The two of them saved some food for the child, ready for him to eat when he woke up, so that he could recover quickly. The fever was probably due to the unfamiliar environment and the cold air conditioning in the car. The child was also very thin, and it was obvious at a glance that he was malnourished and had a weak immune system.

"Shall we go?" Zhuang Xiaodie asked.

"I can tell right away you've never taken care of a child before," Nian Jinsi said. "What if the fever gets higher while riding in the car? Wait until the fever subsides before leaving."

"Yes, yes, you have experience," Zhuang Xiaodie said. "One moment you're anxious, the next you're not. I really don't understand what's going on in your head." Nian Jinsi didn't answer, but poured herself a glass of water. Zhuang Xiaodie stood up and walked to the backyard, ready to greet the boss before checking on the child. Seeing no one in the kitchen, she walked outside, the sun glaring in her eyes. Turning around, she saw the boss sitting under the eaves, picking vegetables.

Zhuang Xiaodie greeted her. His eyes hesitantly scanned the slap mark on her face, words tumbling in his throat. In the end, he didn't bring them up, only saying, "Thank you so much for troubling you."

The boss gave a short laugh. Zhuang Xiaodie considerately walked to the other side, which was closer to the kitchen and a little further to the cashier. The sound of short videos was still piercing her ears. Zhuang Xiaodie squatted down and asked, "Is that your husband?"

The boss nodded. His hands kept working, deftly cutting off the ends of the beans, then quickly breaking them into several small sections and throwing them into the stainless steel basin beside him.

"He's so relaxed, just sitting there collecting money every day."

"Well, this shop only makes a living from tolls, so we don't make much." The boss replied, subconsciously raising his arm to rub the slap mark. Zhuang Xiaodie looked at her. First, she felt pain, then contractions and tingling. She had been with this pain all the time in the past. The chickens walking in the yard crowed a few times, and the sound of the short video in the shop suddenly stopped. The surroundings became quiet, and the sound of dragging footsteps gradually got closer. The boss looked up at the room where the child was sleeping, "I wonder if the child's fever has subsided."

"I'll go check it out." Zhuang Xiaodie stood up and, before entering the room, glanced back to see the man already standing next to the boss. The child was still asleep. Zhuang Xiaodie felt his forehead and found his temperature was basically normal. He would wake up later, change clothes, and leave. Zhuang Xiaodie touched the child's head and suddenly noticed something under his pillow. She gently pulled it out and found it was the photo album.

Did the child bring this thing with him when he got off the bus? Zhuang Xiaodie didn't notice it at all. She opened it again and saw the person in the photo with the child's mother. Her fingers unconsciously rubbed the surface of the photo and touched a slight bump. Zhuang Xiaodie touched it back and forth with her fingers and found that it seemed to be a long mark. She immediately pulled out the photo and turned it over. There was a string of numbers. Mobile phone number, whose? She turned it back to the front and took a look at the two of them. The handwriting of this number did not look like the date on the album. It looked more like it was written by another person. Did this person write the number on the back to keep in touch? Zhuang Xiaodie took out her mobile phone and wrote down the number. She stared at the number, hesitating whether to dial it.

A roar erupted outside, accompanied by the sound of a stainless steel basin tumbling to the ground. Zhuang Xiaodie shuddered, leaping to her feet. Just as she grasped the doorknob, she glanced back at the child. The child had already rolled over, showing signs of waking. She pressed herself against the door and heard the man's fists strike the woman's back repeatedly. She quickly walked to the bedside and, peeking through the gap in the curtains, caught sight of the man slapping her.

"Give it to me!" the man roared, slamming his phone into the boss's face. "Hurry up!"

The boss dodged and pleaded with him: "Stop gambling! There is no money at home!"

"You give others a room to sleep when they have a meal together. Why don't you give out all the rooms? Give me money, or I will ask for help!" The man kicked her several times and raised his other hand to point at the room where Zhuang Xiaodie was.

Zhuang Xiaodie's hands and feet were cold, and she looked around for any tools she could find. The boss didn't say anything. The man raised his foot and walked towards her. The boss grabbed his foot, and he kicked him several times. Zhuang Xiaodie couldn't find any tools, so she had to lock the door. She leaned against the door, and outside she could hear the boss's pleading voice. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, but what flashed back was Wei Yuling's pleading eyes. That night, why? Her hands trembled, and she opened her eyes, facing the child on the bed.

The child's face was filled with fear. Zhuang Xiaodie walked over and hugged him. Only eight years old, she thought, only eight years old. She covered the child's ears. After a while, the noise outside died down. Perhaps they had had enough of the beating, or perhaps they had finally gotten their money. In any case, the man left.

Zhuang Xiaodie touched the child's head and quietly asked if he was still afraid of the cold. The child shook his head. While taking his temperature, Zhuang Xiaodie spread out the photo album and pointed to the man in the photo with the child's mother. "Who is this? Did your mother tell you?"

The child looked at it for a long time and said, "It's my uncle."

"Are you sure?"

"Mom has said this many times." The child said in a low voice, pinching the corner of the quilt with his hands.

"Have you seen him?" Zhuang Xiaodie asked.

The child thought about it and shook his head. Zhuang Xiaodie let out a sigh. It's hard to tell if a child's memory is accurate. They might have seen him but forgotten, or they might not have seen him. If they were close, why didn't the uncle come after the child's mother died? Or did he say he came but ignored the child? And if they weren't close, why did he repeatedly tell the child that this person was his uncle, and even put several photos of him in the album?

The time was up, Zhuang Xiaodie looked at the thermometer - it had returned to normal.

Zhuang Xiaodie rubbed her fingers together. She wanted to smoke a cigarette. She touched the child's head and said, "Go live with your uncle, okay?"

The child lowered his head, pinched the corner of the quilt, and said nothing.

Zhuang Xiaodie was silent for a while, touched the child's head again, stood up and walked out.

The boss had already cleaned up all the beans on the ground and was still sitting there picking vegetables. He even had his hair done. If it weren't for the bloodstains on his face that had not been wiped off, it seemed as if everything was fine and nothing had happened just now.