violin
Two days in Taipei slipped away in the blink of an eye.
Although Xiangyang's e-commerce empire in Beijing is run by a mature team of capable people, allowing him to "work from anywhere in the world," the market is constantly changing and competition is becoming increasingly fierce. No matter how calm he is, the time has come for him to return and take charge.
On this day, Xiangyang once again booked a flight back to Beijing the next day.
While it was still light, he decided to go out for a walk and bring back some Taipei specialty "souvenirs" for his employees in Beijing.
Even on weekday afternoons, Ximending is still a bustling paradise where young people rub shoulders with each other.
With colorful signs and a dazzling array of goods, Xiangyang was wandering alone as a tourist through the famous specialty stores. Pineapple cakes, egg yolk cakes, sun cakes, and lava taro cakes were all on display. The store owners enthusiastically offered tastings, and he tried a little of each. The more he ate, the more he became undecided.
He took out his cell phone and subconsciously thought of the boy with stars in his eyes when he smiled.
"A-Cang, are you free? Come to Ximending and help me pick out souvenirs?" the message was sent.
The reply came almost instantly, but it was a voice message. Jin Cang's voice was filled with unprecedented panic and anxiety: "My...my dad is missing..."
Xiangyang's heart tightened, his mind buzzed, and his thoughts cleared instantly. He immediately dialed the phone, "Don't worry, where are you now?"
He responded quickly but his tone was unusually calm.
After hanging up the phone, the pineapple cake in his hand fell back onto the plate with a "pop". He turned around and rushed out without even looking at it.
The taxis in Ximending seemed to have agreed to play hide-and-seek together, and none of them could be stopped.
Xiangyang made a prompt decision and ran towards Zhonghua Road, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.
At the same time, in the community alleys of Wuxing Street, Jin Cang, Yao Fengqin and Zhao Zhiling had been searching for a long time like headless flies.
I searched carefully in the old apartment buildings, narrow fire lanes, and small parks in the community, and asked everyone I met, but the answer I got was always a shake of head and they said they hadn't seen it and I was helpless.
The sunlight stretched their shadows longer and shorter, and the anxiety in the air continued to rise.
Jin Cang's forehead was covered in sweat, his lips were chapped, and his eyes were bloodshot. He dialed his father's cell phone over and over again, but the cold "off" tone always came from the receiver.
"dad--!"
His shouts echoed through the alleys, sounding so lost and helpless.
Suddenly, Jin Cang's eyes fixed on a weed-covered slope beside the road, where a pair of men's leather shoes seemed to be lying, and the style looked familiar.
His heart leaped, as if seized by something, and he rushed forward recklessly. The slope was steep and slippery, and he stumbled, unable to control himself and tumbled down the slope. He rolled four or five meters, his forehead hitting a tree trunk hard. His vision went black, and warm liquid flowed down his brow.
"A Cang!" Zhao Zhiling exclaimed and slid down the slope carefully.
Jin Cang seemed not to feel the pain. He struggled to get up, rushed to the leather shoe and grabbed it.
The shoes were covered in mud and the uppers were a little worn.
Zhao Zhiling supported his swaying body, her voice trembling, "Is it? Uncle Jin's shoes?"
Jin Cang held the shoe in his hands, looking at it over and over again, his eyes blank. Finally, he shook his head weakly. Blood and sweat mixed together, blurring his vision.
Half an hour later, Xiang Yang rushed to Jin's house in a rage.
The atmosphere in the living room was heavy and tense. Jin Cang, who had just returned from outside, had a band-aid on his forehead, which Zhao Zhiling had just wiped with iodine.
Yao Fengqin sat aside, holding her cell phone, and continued to contact familiar neighbors with a grim face, but obviously got nothing.
Xiangyang walked in, his eyes first falling on Jin Cang's pale face and the wound on his forehead, and his heart was gripped. "Have you found it?"
His voice was also hoarse.
Yao Fengqin shook her head at him, her eyes red.
"How did it happen? Did you call the police?"
Xiangyang turned to Zhao Zhiling and tried to keep his tone steady.
Zhao Zhiling said softly, "I saw Uncle Jin walking back and forth at the door early this morning... He looked a little dazed.
I called him a few times, but he didn't answer me. I thought maybe he had been busy with Brother Jin Yu's affairs for so many days, and his physical strength was overdrawn, and his mood hadn't recovered yet, so I didn't dare to disturb him any more. I was in a hurry to go to work, so I left first... I didn't expect... If only I had been more alert...
Jin Cang took over, his voice full of self-blame. "After my brother's funeral, my father has been very silent... He rarely speaks. This morning, I came back from class, changed my clothes and prepared to go out to work, only to find that my father was not in his room and he didn't have his phone with him."
His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
Yao Fengqin looked at Jin Cang, her lips moved, as if she had made a great decision, and suddenly turned around and walked into Jin Changan's room.
A moment later, she came out with a large white paper medicine bag and handed it to Jin Cang, her eyes evasive: "Your father...has always prevented me from telling you. He said that you have to go to school again, and you have to work several jobs to pay off the family debt. It's already hard enough, and he doesn't want you to worry anymore..."
Jin Cang snatched the medicine bag and opened it with trembling fingers: "What is this? What happened to Dad?"
Xiangyang took the medicine bag from him, poured out the medicine box and pills inside, and scanned the medicine labels, his brows furrowed tighter and tighter: "Aricept... Exelon... Reminyl?" He was not unfamiliar with these drug names.
"What? What on earth is this?!"
Jin Cang almost roared, staring at Xiangyang with red eyes.
Xiangyang looked up at Yao Fengqin, who looked guilty, and asked in a deep voice, "Alzheimer's disease?"
Yao Fengqin's voice rose unconsciously as she added anxiously, "It's mild! The doctor said it's mild! I went with him to see the doctor, and the doctor said it can be controlled with regular medication and cured!"
Xiangyang shook his head gently, a trace of sadness in his eyes. "Auntie, Alzheimer's is an irreversible progressive disease. Medication can only delay it, not cure it. Uncle Jin has been... perhaps too sad and mentally shaken by Jin Yu's situation lately, which may have accelerated the deterioration of his condition."
Jin Cang listened, and it was as if all his strength had been drained away. He slumped down on the sofa, his hands on his head, his voice filled with regret and self-blame: "It's my fault... It's all my fault... I'm by his side every day, and I actually... I actually didn't notice at all... As a son, I shouldn't have done that..."
Xiangyang watched him in agony, his heart awash with emotions. He had experienced the shadow of his family, the pain of losing loved ones, and the heartache of feeling powerless was enough to consume him.
He stretched out his hand, wanting to pat Jin Cang's shoulder, but stopped in mid-air.
The living room fell into a dead silence. Xiangyang's eyes unconsciously swept around, and suddenly he noticed that in the corner of the living room, the door leading to a room was ajar, revealing a gap.
"Whose room is this?" he asked.
Jin Cang raised his head, his eyes empty. "It belongs to my brother. It's been empty since he left. Aunt Yao helps clean it occasionally."
Xiangyang stood up, pushed open the door, and walked in. Jin Cang, Yao Fengqin, and Zhao Zhiling followed him in silently.
The room wasn't large, but neatly furnished. It had a single bed, a desk against the wall with some sheet music, and a few yellowed band posters on the wall. The air still lingered with the faint scent of old books and wood, and it was easy to tell that this was once home to someone deeply passionate about music.
Xiangyang's gaze slowly swept across every corner of the room, finally stopping on a half-worn bookshelf beside the bed.
The bookshelf was filled with various music-related books and CDs, but on one of the layers, there was an obvious empty rectangular space, and the traces of dust were lighter than the surrounding area.
"What was originally placed here?" Xiangyang pointed to the empty space.
Jin Cang looked in the direction his finger pointed, his eyebrows suddenly raised, as if remembering something: "A violin... yes, a very old violin! My brother used to clean it often, but he said it was broken and couldn't produce any sound. The violin... is gone!"
"Isn't there a music teacher on this mountain? Your brother learned violin from him when he was a child."
Xiangyang asked, his tone very urgent.
Jin Cang tried hard to recall: "Music teacher? No... My brother never mentioned it. That piano has been broken for as long as I can remember."
Zhao Zhiling suddenly spoke up, "Yes! I remember now. Dayu did learn it. Back then, he and I were still in elementary school. Ah Cang... you hadn't been taken back then. Dayu and I went to classes together a few times. The teacher was named Deng, and he lived in the mountains nearby."
Yao Fengqin also remembered: "You mean that Teacher Deng? Oh, but he was taken in by his son and daughter-in-law to live in the city many years ago. I heard that he later immigrated."
Xiang Yang immediately turned to Zhao Zhiling, his eyes burning: "Do you still remember how to get to that place?"
Zhao Zhiling frowned and thought for a moment, then said uncertainly, "Maybe... maybe I still have some impression... after all, it happened when I was a kid."
"Let's go!" Xiangyang shouted softly and rushed out without thinking.
Zhao Zhiling nodded, no longer hesitated, and turned around and ran out.
With a glimmer of hope in their hearts, the group hurried on, heading towards the unknown mountain road. Night had quietly begun to cover this anxious city.
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