He reached out to grab his father's arm, but was thrown away.

"That's still my granddaughter!"

Lin Weidong grabbed the pipe and slammed it against the edge of the kang, sparks flying on the shiny blue bricks. "When you were a kid, you skipped school and climbed trees. Why didn't I see your grandfather stop you?"

He stood up tremblingly and crushed the cigarette butt with his cloth shoes. "Okay, stop yelling here and go back to your place."

He turned his back and waved his hand, his hunched back like a heavy mountain, "If you have anything to say, we'll talk tomorrow."

Lin Lang opened his mouth, and finally dropped his shoulders as if in defeat.

The incandescent light in the living room hurt one's eyes, and the ticking of the old-fashioned wall clock stretched out the stalemate between the father and son.

Lin Lang's Adam's apple rolled twice, and his clenched fists slowly loosened. The crescent-shaped marks made by his nails on his palms were oozing blood. "Okay, Dad, I'll go back first."

His voice was muffled as if it was squeezed out of his chest, and his eyes swept across the family portrait hanging on the wall.

Wen Yu staggered as he pulled her, and her stilettos slipped on the tiles.

"Slower..."

She reached out to adjust the pearl earrings that were pulled askew, but Lin Lang grabbed her wrist even harder.

"Wife, let's go back first."

He pulled up his coat and put it on her shoulders, his movements rough but cautious.

At the entrance, when Lin Lang bent down to change his shoes, the blue veins on the back of his neck rose and fell with his breathing.

Wen Yu looked at his straight yet tense back, and suddenly remembered how he shielded her from the rain when they were in love.

The lights in the corridor flickered, casting the overlapping shadows of the two people on the mottled wall, like a crumpled old newspaper.