Chapter 8

Less than eight months after Wang Lili's death, Xu Zhenguo and Luo Mei went to the Civil Affairs Bureau to get their marriage certificate. The wedding was grand and lavish, but almost none of the attendees were genuinely offering their blessings; it was all hypocritical pretense. Some even secretly cursed them, wishing them a terrible death, because everyone in the factory knew that Li Junsheng's imprisonment and Wang Lili's tragic death were inextricably linked to these two beaming newlyweds!

"Xiao Chen, come here to Aunt Zhao! I'll peel an orange for you..."

Amidst the incredibly noisy and boisterous wedding, the only person still concerned about Xu Chen was Zhao Xiujuan, the head of the finance department. She saw the small, nine-year-old Xu Chen sitting quietly on a stool in the corner, his eyes blankly watching the adults around him drinking and eating with abandon. His father was being plied with drinks until his face was flushed, while the woman beside him was dressed extravagantly in a bright red Chinese cheongsam, a stark contrast to his usual attire. Xu Chen simply couldn't understand why these people were acting this way so soon after his mother's passing…

Hearing Aunt Zhao call his name, Xu Chen was stunned for a moment, then looked up at the source of the sound. Seeing the loving smile on Aunt Zhao's face, his mother's best friend, he could no longer hold back his grievances. He ran over and threw himself into Aunt Zhao's arms, whispering, "Auntie, I miss my mother..." You could feel that Xu Chen was desperately suppressing his voice because he didn't want to cry out loud in the crowd.

Xu Chen's tears dripped onto Zhao Xiujuan's clothes, forming several faint watermarks.

"Xiao Chen! If you ever feel wronged, come to Aunt Zhao. Don't keep it to yourself, understand? Your mother is like that because..."

Zhao Xiujuan's voice suddenly stopped amidst the noise of the wedding, because she suddenly realized that Xu Chen still couldn't fully understand the real cause of his mother's death.

"Why? Auntie, why aren't you saying anything?"

Xu Chen blinked his eyes, full of doubt, and pressed for an answer.

"Xiao Chen, there are some things I can't tell you now. I'll tell you when you grow up. Just remember, don't wrong yourself..."

Faced with the naivety and innocence of a nine-year-old child, Zhao Xiujuan could only remain silent, wanting to speak but unable to.

In the lobby of the state-run restaurant, twenty round tables were arranged into a noisy battlefield. The men's shouts of playing drinking games were like thunder, "Five of a kind! Six six six!" Their voices were deep and powerful, almost shaking the roof. On the other side, the women's shrill laughter was like the sound of shattering glass, extremely penetrating, carving invisible cracks in the air. Children chased and played among the tables and chairs, their squabbling filling the entire space with a restless energy.

The kitchen served as the accompaniment to this farce, with the clanging of spatulas against woks, the sizzling of frying oil, and the shouts of chefs constantly flooding everyone's ears. Waiters carried plates and moved between tables and chairs, occasionally calling out, "Excuse me, be careful, it's hot!" Their voices struggled to survive in the noise, sounding insignificant.

The sounds of toasting, clinking glasses, laughter, shouts, and children crying... all these sounds mix together, fermenting into a boiling, noisy broth. In this ocean of sound, silence becomes the most luxurious existence; even sitting face to face, one has to shout to convey the simplest information.

Soon, it was time for the traditional nuptial cup ceremony. Xu Zhenguo and Luo Mei intertwined their arms and downed their cups of "Laolongkou Baijiu" in one gulp, followed by enthusiastic applause from those around them...

(To be continued)