Chapter 170 Former Names
A breakfast shop in the next town has been open for more than ten years; it is the maternal home of Mo Xizhi's mother, Qin E.
Although she ran a breakfast shop, Qin E had many children in her family, and her childhood was marked by poverty. Being a daughter, she was even less valued by her family.
She wanted to study, but since her family could only afford to send two people to school, her parents naturally chose her two younger brothers.
Qin E was introverted and only knew how to obey her parents. So, under her parents' arrangement, she married Mo Xizhi's biological father, simply because he could offer a generous dowry.
Qin E married a man. At first, the young woman had some expectations in her heart. She believed that her husband would treat her well, after all, he was willing to spend so much on betrothal gifts.
She was happy and delighted, but she never expected that she would step into an even deeper abyss from which there was no return.
The man was only attracted to her looks, her diligence, her gentleness, and her lack of resistance. But after she gave birth to Mo Xizhi, the man's true colors were revealed. He became an alcoholic and a gambler, and of course, he was subjected to unbearable beatings.
"Xiao Chuan, your uncle is coming over later."
Mo Xizhi responded but didn't speak. The boy's brows seemed to be covered with frost, and he was somewhat depressed.
The old man beside him continued, saying that he was Qin Dong, Mo Xizhi's maternal grandfather.
"When your uncle found out you were back, he immediately brought your cousin over to play with you. See how good your uncle is to you?"
"That wretched girl Qin'e, she forgot about her father as soon as she went to the city, and she didn't even come to see me during the holidays."
As he spoke, Qin Dong pretended to burst into tears, lamenting that his daughter was unfilial, his wife was in poor health, and that his life was so miserable.
Mo Xizhi's maternal grandmother fell a few months ago and was taken to the county hospital to see a doctor. The doctor originally planned for her to be hospitalized for observation for a period of time.
Later, the family complained that the hospital bills were too high and insisted on going home to lie down.
A simple injury has resulted in a situation where the patient is still not fully recovered.
None of the children were willing to come and take care of their mother. Even Qin E was far away in Jinghai City, where she had her own family to take care of. Nevertheless, she still sent a sum of money to the elderly couple.
Mo Xizhi stood there, a tall boy with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, silently bending down to make the bed.
This was a storage room that the Qin family had reluctantly vacated after knowing he was coming back; it hadn't been cleaned.
His mother has no room in this house.
As for bringing his younger cousin to visit him, it was simply because he wanted the younger cousin to tutor him.
Everyone on this street knows that Old Man Qin's grandson is a top student; there's no need to wonder who said it.
But even with such boasting, in their eyes Mo Xizhi was still an outsider. He was just a grandson, not their grandson. The blood relationship between them was not close.
Besides, his biological father's reputation is utterly ruined here.
Mo Xizhi didn't speak, and Old Man Qin felt embarrassed. He wanted to use his authority as an elder to say a few words, but he didn't know why he lost his confidence when facing his grandson.
Qin E sent him money a while ago. If they have a falling out, she'll definitely side with her son, not her father. Oh well.
The old man, leaning on his cane, deliberately made a noise as he left. After he left, Mo Xizhi's expression instantly turned cold.
He would never have come if it weren't for his mother; she would be heartbroken every time she came.
Mo Xizhi is happy for her mother, who now has a stable and responsible husband and a lively and clever daughter.
The scenery here has remained unchanged for over a decade, still backward and poor; only those people from back then have grown up, and some have grown old.
In the afternoon, Uncle Qin arrived with his son. Old Master Qin was all smiles, bringing the biscuits and candies meant for the Kitchen God on the eve of the Lunar New Year.
At the dinner table, his uncle's family and grandfather were having a great time. Mo Xizhi, being an outsider, naturally couldn't get a word in edgewise. Only when it came to matters of study would his so-called grandfather and uncle give him a friendly look.
But it was for his grandson.
Seeing Mo Xizhi's cold attitude, the others also stopped smiling, feeling that they had lost face.
The suffocating atmosphere was directed solely at him.
He has always been a person with a different surname; he used to be surnamed Chen, but now he is surnamed Mo.
Mo Xizhi wasn't upset by the cold shoulder. If she hadn't gotten into a good university, she probably wouldn't have even received that fake smile from the other person.
His belongings were all in the room, in a suitcase, very light, not packed with much stuff.
If you're unhappy, you can leave anytime.
But when he thought about how his mother had lived like that for over twenty years...
The feeling of living under someone else's roof is not pleasant.
Thinking about it carefully, he actually has no relatives here.
After finishing their meal, they walked home together on a street in front of the restaurant, chatting and laughing.
Mo Xizhi's long, slender eyes unconsciously followed the two as they walked away, and for the first time in several days, a relaxed smile appeared in the boy's eyes.
On the eve of the Lunar New Year, Mo Xizhi stood under the eaves watching the fireworks rising in the distance, dazzling and radiant.
The direction in which the fireworks rose was also the direction his heart had always longed for—the small village where Cong Chun lived, separated from here by a river and countless fields.
Not knowing if the other person had seen the same fireworks display as him, or if the person who set off the fireworks was the one, Mo Xizhi subconsciously guessed it would be Cong Chun.
Shortly after the eve of the Lunar New Year, which was also the day I left this place.
The boy, with his long, slender fingers, pulled his suitcase and unknowingly arrived at the door of the familiar little house from his memory.
Mo Xizhi felt somewhat disappointed when no familiar figure appeared in his field of vision.
Until Cong Chun's voice came from behind.
“Mo Xizhi.”
Upon hearing the familiar voice, Mo Xizhi's dim eyes instantly brightened again.
Cong Chun, holding sweet potato vines in her arms, smiled at him but didn't mention the previous incidents.
"Come in and have a seat, everyone's inside."
Mo Xizhi pursed her lower lip and said in a low voice.
"No need, I just came to take a look."
"I'm leaving now."
"Take a look?" Cong Chun asked, somewhat puzzled.
Mo Xizhi's long, cold eyes fell on Cong Chun's face, and he responded with a nonchalant tone, though his voice trembled slightly.
Let him watch it a little longer.
He fled this place, abandoning his former name.
He may seem to have abandoned that unbearable past, but as long as someone still remembers his former name, it's no use no matter how far he runs away.
Even after escaping the towering mountains that had once suffocated him, Mo Xizhi still needed to stop.
Cong Chun, why can't you choose me?
Perhaps it was the sight of the place that brought back memories, but Mo Xizhi remembered very clearly that once when his mother was in the hospital, Cong Chun brought him into this place.
Cong Chun's home was very simple, much simpler than his own.
But here he was eating hot soup noodles. He buried his head and stuffed noodles into his mouth. Cong Chun's grandparents thought he was starving and told him in a kind tone not to rush and to take his time.
Actually, he kept his head down at that time because he didn't want everyone to see that he was crying.
The noodles were so salty, because they were mixed with his tears.
He felt so ashamed of himself.
However, Cong Chun noticed his slightly red eyes and realized that he had told Cong Chun his first lie.
He told Cong Chun that he had cried from the spiciness, but looking at the bowl of bland noodles without a trace of spice, Mo Xizhi realized how clumsy his lie was, and could only manage an awkward smile.
But Cong Chun smiled at him and slipped two candies into his hand.
"Xiao Chuan, eat some candy."
"It won't be spicy anymore."
Cong Chun did not expose his clumsy lie at the time.
Actually, he wasn't a gentle person at all; Cong Chun was.
Perhaps inheriting that man's genes, Mo Xizhi was actually a bit sensitive and irritable when she met Cong Chun.
However, Cong Chun was not angry. She always spoke to him gently and shared stories from books with him.
He didn't like reading, but back then, in order to be able to chat with Cong Chun for a few minutes, he secretly went to the library and read the books that Cong Chun had mentioned.
Like a thief, he silently watched Cong Chun reading in the corner through the gaps between the books on a bookshelf.
It was as if being by Cong Chun's side made his mind more peaceful and calm.
Thinking of all this, Mo Xizhi's resentment overwhelmed the flood dike he had painstakingly built.
"Cong Chun, is... is there something wrong with me?"
"Is it because of my family background, my personality, or... that I'm not good enough?"
So you chose him, not me.
The moment the words left his mouth, Mo Xizhi regretted them.
Mo Xizhi didn't even dare to look at Cong Chun's face, afraid that the boy's face would show fear or even disgust.
He was so self-conscious and ugly, like a lump of mud.
Her former name was also so contemptible.
Cong Chun looked at Mo Xizhi, and he felt a little sad.
"Actually, your goodness doesn't need to be compared with others."
"I really like the name Chen Xiaochuan because in my memory, Xiaochuan has always been very quiet and always willing to stay by my side and listen to me tell stories from the books."
"I remember a classmate once said that I was an inconspicuous little grass, but without grass, the land would be bare and not very pretty."
"Xiaochuan is a small river, no, it is even wider than a river, and all things need water to grow."
Then Cong Chun explained to Mo Xizhi.
"Even grass needs water to grow."
"If I were a blade of grass, I would definitely want to grow up next to Xiaochuan."
"You have to believe that no one who has spent time with you will not like you."
“But the name Mo Xizhi is good. It would be tiring for a small river to help many people. Now I hope you can choose to be yourself and pay more attention to your own thoughts.”
Mo Xizhi doesn't like being a diplomat. Perhaps in the future, he will go to South Africa to become an animal photographer, where he may find what he truly wants to pursue.
He doesn't need to prune himself for anyone.
Whether he becomes a river or a Moxizhi, as long as he's happy, that's all that matters.
After all, no one is loved because they are excellent.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
