Chapter 80 Bloody Luck

Walk.

I walked past the girl in the yellow raincoat at the church entrance. I walked past the blue brick and white column gates of Beijing No. 4 Middle School. I walked past Beihai Park and the White Pagoda Temple. I walked past a few unremarkable former residences of famous people. I walked past Shichahai, where willows withered and ice-covered.

Following Guan Ping's footsteps, Meng Weishen walked deeper into the alley. He turned a few corners, and the gray-blue bungalows quietly filled his sight. The voices of people gradually became more and more distant. Occasionally, an old man walking his starling would pass by, only to greet Guan Ping with a smile before walking away in the opposite direction.

"Xiao Meng, come in from here."

Guan Ping stopped in front of a peeling wooden door and waved at him. Meng Weishen hurried over, but found that the door was not her home.

He still had to cross a walkway wedged between gray walls, barely wider than an adult's shoulder. He was feeling a bit uneasy, and when a pigeon whistle whistled past his ears, he nearly knocked over a bicycle leaning against the wall. The half-peeled wall trembled under his fright.

The walkway ended in a square courtyard, only a few square meters in size, filled with clothes drying racks, water tanks, and bicycles.

Well... this place can indeed be called a "Siheyuan." Unfortunately, after the founding of the People's Republic of China, it was transformed into a large compound, allocated to workers from state-owned factories to live together. Only a bungalow on the north side is Jiang Ranxu's "home."

Meng Weishen quickly figured out the location - because Jiang Ranxu himself was standing at the door, as if he had been waiting for him for a long time.

The electronic watch on his wrist vibrated wildly, reminding him that his heart rate was too fast and he should pay attention to relieve stress.

Meng Weishen stood frozen at the gate. Guan Ping leisurely pulled out the key from her bag, unlocked the door, and spoke to Jiang Ranxu casually:

"You're back. Why don't you come into the house?"

Jiang Ranxu's eyes passed through Guan Ping's thin shoulders and met his: "I don't have the key. You know that."

"You never call ahead to tell me you're coming home," Guan Ping chided him. She turned around and looked at him, introducing him to Jiang Ranxu. "This is Xiao Meng. He said he's your good friend. I haven't heard you mention him that before."

Jiang Ranxu nodded calmly: "He's the friend who runs the bar. We usually call him by his English name, but his real name is Meng."

Guan Ping said "Oh" softly, her empty eyes fixed on Meng Weishen, and it was unknown how many thoughts were contained in her eyes. "You have known each other for so long, and you don't bring anyone home to sit down. Isn't it inappropriate? Are you thinking that your parents have embarrassed you..."

"Just a friend." Jiang Ranxu interrupted him, "We usually just drink together. Why did you bring him home?"

"But you've brought people back to your place, and you don't mind the dirtiness anymore. Didn't we meet last time?"

Jiang Ranxu's expression was gloomy, and he seemed to be gritting his teeth. "What do you want?"

Guan Ping smiled dully and stopped talking. She beckoned Meng Weishen and slipped sideways into the room.

Meng Weishen gritted his teeth and approached the unknown space that had puzzled him for a long time: Jiang Ranxu's "home".

As he stepped over the threshold, countless dust and mold immediately blocked his nasal cavity and invaded his alveoli. He coughed violently. When his vision returned to normal, Guan Ping turned on a light above his head, and he finally saw the whole house.

A vast chaos engulfed the entire house. The owner was clearly a serious hoarder, with a vast amount of clutter piled up in the cramped space, overlapping in disorder: old newspapers piled on the radiator, children's exercise books placed in the TV cabinet.

Meng Weishen took half a step forward when a series of hoarse howls suddenly rustled overhead, sending chills down his spine. He looked up and realized the bungalow had been separated into two floors by frosted panels. The interior was hazy and unclear, but the wailing continued, as if a monster were struggling in a cage.

In a moment of distraction, he stepped on a sticky thing. It was a fly trap that had become an insect morgue.

Jiang Ranxu couldn't even stand a few dog hairs on his body, so how did he survive the first ten years of his life here? This damn place couldn't even be called "home". Anyone who stayed there for too long would develop mental problems!

The pain accumulated in the house for decades, along with the old objects, traveled through time and space and overlapped with Meng Weishen. And the person who experienced the pain firsthand was his closest partner, who whitewashed the pain so peacefully that it even confused him for nearly a year.

Meng Weishen felt dizzy and even wanted to vomit.

Guan Ping cleared a clean area on the sofa and turned on the TV for him: "I'm sorry, the house is too messy. Don't blame Jiang Ranxu for not wanting to bring you back. He has been shy since he was a child and is afraid of losing face."

Meng Weishen quickly said: "It's okay, I just came to take a look."

"You two watch TV first, and then we can go out to eat." Guan Ping lowered her voice, "But Jiang Ranxu's father is very ill now and can't come downstairs. I have to heat up some soup for him."

The TV was playing the midday news. Nothing new under the sun: war, disaster, plague. They had developed a tacit understanding, remaining completely silent in Guan Ping's presence, intently studying the news anchor's lip movements. They didn't seem like friends, more like a blind date meeting for the first time.

The microwave dinged and started to work. Guan Ping brought a small porcelain bowl from the kitchen and slowly walked up the rusty stairs.

Meng Weishen forced himself to cheer up and followed. The stairs were so heavy that they creaked and complained even with the weight of two people.

But Jiang Ranxu stood in front of him, blocking his way. The stairs even swayed slightly.

Jiang Ranxu said, "Meng Weishen, just watch TV downstairs and don't go upstairs. The scene upstairs is not good."

Under Guan Ping's empty gaze, Meng Weishen didn't know what tone to use when talking to Jiang Ranxu, so he had to choose the most polite one: "It's okay. I didn't know that my uncle was sick before. I should have come to visit him a long time ago."

"His father does look scary. There's a big hole in his chin." Guan Ping smiled at him. The smile looked very strange, forced, and it sounded like crying. "If he doesn't want you to see it, don't go up there."

Meng Weishen was not unwilling to give up. He had painstakingly tried to get to the truth step by step, and now there was only one hurdle left. He had no reason to give up.

Amidst the heart-wrenching creaking sounds, Meng Weishen finally conquered the stairs and squeezed into the second-floor room that had been forcibly blocked.

The stench of decay that hit him was so overwhelming that he couldn't open his eyes. In his memory, similar stench was always associated with death, such as the smell of dead rats in the company's ventilation ducts.

Meng Weishen suppressed his growing urge to vomit. He peered closer and saw that the second floor was actually a small bedroom forcibly partitioned off with wooden boards, with only room for a mattress and a wardrobe. A gaunt figure, so thin it had lost its shape, shivered like a sieve beneath the quilt.

"Jiang Shao, a guest is here to see you. Please cheer up."

Guan Ping gently lifted a corner of the quilt. A pale face like a zombie was exposed in front of them, and there was indeed a dark hole under the lips.

Guan Ping scooped a spoonful of broth and stuffed it between the zombie's shrunken lips. The broth immediately flowed out of the rotten hole. The zombie couldn't drink anything and only roared in pain. Guan Ping ignored him and continued to feed him the broth.

Meng Weishen was on the verge of vomiting, backing away repeatedly and nearly falling down the stairs. Luckily, Jiang Ranxu supported his shoulders from behind and covered his mouth and nose with his palms. "Don't be afraid. This is what happens in the late stages of oral cancer, and there are even more serious cases."

Meng Weishen forced himself to remain calm and said, "Your father... he needs to go to the hospital, right?"

"I actually hope he dies, but my job doesn't allow me to." Jiang Ranxu stroked his shoulder. "I tried to send him to the hospital before, but he escaped on his own. He was afraid to accept the fact that he had cancer and would rather take morphine at home. Now he's seeking death on his own, and the doctors can't save him."

Meng Weishen dragged Jiang Ranxu down the stairs, and the two fled to the outside of the yard, letting the cool air cleanse their lungs.

After a while, Guan Ping successfully completed the feeding task and brought down an empty bowl.

Meng Weishen was in a trance. He had lost his appetite and didn't want to eat at all. He just wanted to take Jiang Ranxu home quickly, back to their own home.

But Guan Ping drifted over, her eyes empty, making it hard to tell what she was feeling. She gently lifted Jiang Ranxu's hair from his forehead:

"Jiang Ranxu, your hair is too long. Let me cut it for you. After that, we can go eat."

Jiang Ranxu suddenly dodged to the side: "You just touched Jiang Shao, don't touch me."

"I knew you couldn't handle it. I washed my hands. Besides, you're my child. There's nothing I can't touch."

Meng Weishen felt a little embarrassed. He knew he should avoid it, so he was forced to go back to his room and watch TV.

The midday news has ended and the channel has entered a long commercial break, promoting a health product for the elderly.

Meng Weishen muted the TV volume. His attention drifted out the window, clinging to the silhouettes of the two people outside.

Guan Ping took the hairdressing scissors, but Jiang Ranxu refused to let her touch him. A small argument broke out between the two. Guan Ping seemed to compromise, but then she whispered in Jiang Ranxu's ear: "I think your father is going to heaven soon."

Jiang Ranxu sneered, "You think too much. He will never go to heaven. Even if he goes to hell, Satan will find him too immoral."

"I know you hate your father. But he's almost gone, why are you still like this? He's not as bad as you think. At least he's always making money. At that time, our family depended on him for support. He had a heavy burden on his shoulders. It's understandable that he would feel resentful when he came home."

"What did I do to him? I didn't abuse him or beat him. I even found him a hospital bed. Now he's the one seeking death. What else do you want me to do? If you really want to ask me, I'll say he deserves it all."

Jiang Ranxu's tone became irritable again. Meng Weishen heard the sound of a lighter being lit, but saw no flame.

Guan Ping was silent for a long time.

"But your father is gone. What should I do?" Guan Ping spoke again, her thin voice tinged with sobs. "Your grandparents passed away early, and I don't have any brothers or sisters to look after me. Your father is my closest relative in the world. Now that he's gone, where will I go? What's the point of living?"

"You've lived for most of your life. Do you really have to rely on others to survive?" Jiang Ranxu said, "Even though he's dead, the house is still there. It'll be quieter for you to live alone. If you need money, I can lend it to you first. If not, go find a job."

“What I lack is not material things.”

"So what are you missing?"

Guan Ping said vaguely, "I just want a normal family. Why do you always have to go against us? Can't you be more obedient? As long as you are obedient, everything will be fine."

"Your home." Jiang Ranxu laughed briefly. "You mean you want to start a family with a demon who might beat you up at any moment? Your mental illness is probably much more serious than mine, Mom."

Jiang Ranxu bit the last word hard, shook off Guan Ping, walked into the house, and called Meng Weishen's name.

Meng Weishen didn't have time to look away. In his peripheral vision, Guan Ping stood alone in the yard. Suddenly, she raised the scissors high and stabbed the sharp end into her neck.

Meng Weishen's physical reactions always outpaced his brain. He pushed Jiang Ranxu aside and lunged at Guan Ping, snatching the scissors and throwing them far away. The woman, held in his arms, remained unharmed, but burst into tears.

Dark blood flowed down from his palm and soaked into the woman's silver hair.