Chapter 46 It's not that it won't happen, the time just hasn't come yet; my "suffering" is about to begin again...

"Second Uncle!" Jiang Yueming called out as soon as he went backstage, his voice echoing in the tin-covered space.

This backstage area is not what you might think. It wasn't a real, makeshift backstage; the performance troupe only has eight or nine people at most, so there's no need for such a grand setup. It was a truck, and the backstage area was right there in the back. Dusty prop boxes, crooked folding chairs, and several speakers covered with thick cloths were all crammed together.

"This...is overloaded, isn't it?" Jiang Yueming said in a low voice.

There were actors both on stage and backstage, the kind with exceptional skills. One was wearing a practice uniform and warming up; another was putting on makeup in front of a mirror, and judging from their appearance, they were probably performing Peking Opera. I don't know which play it was, but Jiang Yueming could hum a few lines, like "My parents always told me that Huangmei Opera isn't easy to sing," and "To save my beloved, I left home, only to unexpectedly become the top scholar in the imperial examination..."

Oh wait, I've got the wrong channel. That was Huangmei Opera.

Jiang Yueming called out again, but strangely, no one turned around to pay attention to the two of them. They continued to do their own things, looking very focused.

"Hey, hey, whose kid is this? You can't mess around in the employee passage."

Employee access – truck trunk.

Upon hearing the familiar voice, Jiang Yueming quickly grabbed Li Leshan's arm and turned around, exclaiming joyfully, "Second Uncle, it's me!"

Second Uncle's real name is Xia Guogang. Just hearing the name makes him sound righteous, and indeed he is. Second Aunt always complains that he's only loyal to outsiders, not to his own family. Although he travels all over the country, he doesn't look as weathered as Jiang Yueming imagined. His temples have certainly turned gray more, but he still looks very energetic. Of course, Jiang Yueming doesn't know his full name, so she can only call him "Second Uncle."

Xia Guogang carefully examined the two young men in front of him, who were about the same height as him. They looked quite young, but they had grown really fast. "Whose kids are they? State your names."

Jiang Yueming clicked his tongue lightly. This old man was determined to play dirty tricks on him. "Then I'll go find my second aunt."

"No, no, no," Xia Guogang stopped pretending. "Ming'er! Let's talk this out. Why are you looking for your second aunt?"

"Who told you to be away from home all the time?" Jiang Yueming complained.

Xia Guogang quickly tried to change the subject, his gaze falling on the boy next to Jiang Yueming. This boy had a natural air of aloofness, though his features weren't particularly sharp.

"Oh, this is my...cousin. You can just call him Lele." Jiang Yueming introduced him without even thinking, spouting a lie.

Xia Guogang didn't think much of it, having no time to recall if there was a boy named "Lele" in his memory. He didn't seem to have seen him before, because judging by his appearance, he shouldn't have no recollection of him. Perhaps he had grown up; he had been away from home for so many years, and had long been accustomed to things changing and people coming and going like pages in a book, so it wouldn't be surprising if he had another son.

No, this should be unusual, right?!

"This young man is handsome, like that... that..." Xia Guogang thought he looked like a celebrity, his eyebrows, nose and eyes were really well-proportioned.

“Don’t bother trying to remember. The celebrities you remember are all from the previous generation here,” Jiang Yueming said.

Xia Guogang laughed heartily, took out two red envelopes from his pocket, one for Jiang Yueming and one for Li Leshan, and waved generously, "I don't come back for holidays, and I've missed giving out New Year's money for several years. Consider this my apology."

Li Leshan hurriedly waved his hand, he couldn't accept it, after all, he wasn't really a "cousin". He quickly gestured for Jiang Yueming to explain to his second uncle, but he had only finished half of the sign language when he heard Xia Guogang's voice.

"Son, what happened to your mouth?" Xia Guogang asked.

So it turns out my second uncle can read sign language. Jiang Yueming thought to himself. He had originally wanted to have a "secret conversation" with Li Leshan. He figured Li Leshan would accept the money without any problem, because with such a dirty trick as writing down about a hundred numbers for two baskets of eggs, it would be pretty good if there were a few dozen yuan in the red envelope, maybe not even worth as much as the eggs themselves.

"Sorry, um, I can't speak. I was sick when I was little." Li Leshan used sign language to communicate with him. He respectfully handed over the red envelope, but then said that he couldn't accept it.

Xia Guogang said "Oh," his expression turning somewhat sad. He stuffed the red envelope into Li Leshan's pocket, his tone resolute, "Just take it. Your second uncle isn't a bad person."

He insisted that Li Leshan accept it, saying that if he didn't accept it, he would be disrespecting his second uncle, and that he had never visited Li Leshan's home since he was a child. In short, he made Li Leshan accept it.

"Thank you." Li Leshan bowed deeply.

Xia Guogang ruffled his hair. "Sit down, sit down, Ming'er! I have something to tell you. Go outside and wait for me."

"Can't we talk about this in the employee passage?" Jiang Yueming didn't want to leave.

"Are you an employee?!" Xia Guogang roared.

Jiang Yueming trembled at his shout, remembering the saying "He who eats another's food is bound to him, he who takes another's money is bound to him," and held back. He hooked Li Leshan's little finger and whispered, "He's probably asking about my second aunt. I'll go out first, you just sit here and don't move."

Li Leshan nodded.

"Sit down, ask the guy next to you for something to eat. They're all brand names, don't be shy, just ask." Xia Guogang patted Li Leshan on the shoulder, then ran over to the side and patted the shoulder of the young man with half his face painted with flowers. He hurriedly gave him a few instructions and then left.

Should I just ask directly? Li Leshan wondered.

He can't speak, so how can I ask him anything?

Using sign language? Will the people here understand it?

Thinking about it this way, Li Leshan was more inclined to believe that his second uncle had forgotten that he couldn't speak. It seemed that Jiang Yueming was right; his second uncle had a bad memory, like a dandelion seed scattered by the wind.

The next second, the guy doing the Peking Opera makeup patted Li Leshan on the shoulder and handed him a bag of fruit candies.

"How old are you?" the young man asked.

Li Leshan sat to the side, his mind still reeling. He frowned slightly and felt a bit of sweat on his back.

“I am thirteen years old this year,” Li Leshan said in sign language.

The young man sat down next to him; they were both sitting on speakers. Li Leshan was still hesitating whether to sit or not when Xia Guogang pressed him down without explanation. "This speaker is actually quite good quality..."

"Wow, you're so young. I'm twenty-three this year, ten years older than you." The young man smiled and pointed to his ear. "My name is Cong Nan, and I can't hear."

Deaf person.

Li Leshan was startled. His pupils dilated slightly as he suddenly realized why the people in the truck hadn't heard Jiang Yueming's loud shouts of "Second Uncle." It wasn't that they hadn't heard, but rather that they couldn't hear him.

Zhou Congnan pointed to the two or three people behind him, "They can't hear either, and two of them can't speak either."

At this moment, Li Leshan truly saw the true nature of the world: the dilapidated trucks, the crowded backstage... it turned out that almost everyone in his second uncle's performance troupe was disabled.

"Are you related to Teacher Xia?" Zhou Congnan asked, his voice soft. "Then do you know his family?"

Li Leshan couldn't explain how he, as a relative of someone with connections, ended up here. The simplest way to explain it was to just nod.

“He has his reasons for not going home all these years.” Zhou Congnan paused for a moment, his fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of his costume. “It’s just that the reasons are for people like us.”

Xia Guogang came from an arts troupe and enjoyed traveling around in his early years, though he wasn't always away from home. The first person he met was Old Zhang, a deaf-mute performer, who was performing acrobatics outside. It was on a street corner in the biting cold wind. He was shirtless, his ribs bony, performing feats like breaking a boulder on his chest and using his iron head—basically, he did whatever it took to risk his life. Next to him were a few crookedly written characters: "Those with money, support us financially; those without money, support us with your presence."

There were only a few onlookers, occasionally someone would throw down a coin, and some drunkards would laugh and point. Xia Guogang couldn't bear it, so he squeezed in and gestured with difficulty: "Come with me, brother. We're not going to risk our lives."

Then came Old Li, who had a limp and could only play static roles; and Little Sister, whose voice and hearing were ruined by a high fever when she was a child… He realized there were so many people suffering, so he took them in one by one within his means. With so many people, food, clothing, and medical care all cost money. The financial pressure was immense, so he drove his truck on a national tour, performing one show in each place. Fortunately, the people there were very hardworking and trained rigorously, attracting a considerable audience, and occasionally even securing some sponsorships.

“He has to support his family, save money to buy a hearing aid, and make a living. It’s not that he doesn’t want to go back, but he’s tied to the house and can’t go back.” Zhou Congnan’s voice was heavy. “Every time he transfers to Shengping, he comes back to visit.”

Li Leshan listened silently, his hand gripping the candy wrapper tighter and tighter, making a soft rustling sound. He recalled the scene from elementary school when he couldn't make a sound and was imitated by several children; the burning shame he felt was still as vivid as yesterday.

Suddenly, a thunderous roar of cheers and applause erupted from the direction of the stage outside, surging in like a tidal wave.

He suddenly looked at Zhou Congnan and gestured urgently, "The sound is so loud."

Zhou Congnan glanced outside in the direction he was pointing. From this spot, he could barely see some people, their figures blurry and their expressions and movements unclear.

"What was that sound?" he asked calmly.

"The cheers," Li Leshan gestured, "were deafening."

"Really?" Zhou Congnan smiled. Although he couldn't hear, he could feel it. He reached out and placed his palm on the cold metal of the truck, feeling the distant vibrations.

“Yes,” Li Leshan said with utmost seriousness, “Teacher Xia is really amazing, and so are you.”

The truck was wobbling and swaying, and it wasn't carrying a group of pitiful people.

“We all are.” Zhou Congnan remained silent for a long time.

Li Leshan looked out of the truck bed, and for a moment, the sounds around him seemed irrelevant to him.

Suffering is etched into one's bones. Like the indelible scar on Old Zhang's back, the silent cough of the younger sister in the dead of night... these people are similar; they have similar life experiences. It's just that some bear more burdens, and some bear less. For those who bear less, it's not that they haven't experienced it, but rather that their time hasn't come yet.

His heart was silently questioning: What about me? Where has my time come? Where should my suffering be etched?