He has no future.
Qi Ya caught him off guard by the sound of the elevator doors opening, leaving Chen Sizhe, who had been trying to quietly leave the gifts and run away, with nowhere to retreat.
Like a prisoner being interrogated, Chen Sizhe sat on the sofa, next to Chen Wenkang, who was typing on his laptop and acting as an outsider. Standing in front of him was the interrogator, Qi Ya.
"You came in without even saying hello? What? Trying to run away again?" Qi Ya's eyes darted up and down, her gaze lingering on Chen Sizhe. She clutched her chest with one hand and rested the other on her forehead, tilting her chin up as if she were about to collapse. She cried out in pain, "I can't take it anymore, I really can't breathe! How could I have given birth to such a thing as you!"
She glanced at Chen Wenkang several times, and Chen Wenkang, unable to escape her gaze, was forced to play along. He put down his laptop, got up to help her, and helped her to rest on the sofa. He then glanced at Chen Sizhe and pretended to scold, "Can't you give your mother a break?"
Having already experienced this before, Chen Sizhe lowered his head and readily admitted his mistake, apologizing: "I'm sorry."
Sinking into the soft sofa, Qi Ya glared at Chen Sizhe with her eyes wide open. "If you really feel sorry for me, then hurry up and bring a girlfriend home. Look at the last two New Years, how have I ever been able to hold my head up? You didn't like the girls I introduced you to, and you wouldn't even look for one yourself. It's driving me crazy! Another year is almost over. Do you know how old you'll be after this year? Twenty-eight by the Chinese age reckoning, getting closer to thirty!" A sigh brought the lecture to a close.
Not meeting Qi Ya's disappointed look, Chen Sizhe, with his eyelids drooping, suddenly said, "Mom, if you really want a grandson, I can find you an obedient dog. Lonely old people at home these days..." Before he could finish his sincere suggestion, a pillow thrown at his head shut him up.
Qi Ya, who had been feigning illness just moments before, sat up straight, her body leaning slightly forward. Her eyes were wide open as she glared at Chen Sizhe, her anger burning: "Who are you calling a lonely old man? Am I old? Where am I old?" She turned her head and then cast her gaze at Chen Wenkang.
Forced into the situation, Chen Wenkang raised his hand, opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, and reassured, "Don't listen to his nonsense. You're not old at all."
"Sigh! I gave birth to such a wicked son, and he even wants me to raise a dog as his grandson! Sons are no good, daughters are so much better—they're so obedient and sensible, and they can even accompany me shopping and chatting..." Qi Ya slumped back into the sofa, patting her chest, a look of melancholy playing on her face. But then, as if she had just thought of something, she straightened her back against the soft pillows. "Hey, Wen Dai will probably be alone for the New Year, right? Why don't we just invite her over to celebrate with us? It's a pity, if she agreed to be our daughter, I wonder how much of my anger would dissipate."
It'll definitely be all over. Once we've taken Wen Dai as our goddaughter, performing a few religious ceremonies will be a piece of cake, right? And if we quietly bring out a few stacks of peach blossom charms, are we afraid she won't be able to hold her grandson?
Unfortunately, the abacus beads broke all over the floor, and the other party was unwilling to accept it.
With a sense of regret, Qi Ya waved to Chen Sizhe and immediately decided, "Go and visit Wen Dai, buy some New Year's goods and send them to her. It's impolite to go empty-handed. Go and ask her if she has time during the New Year. If she does, she can come to our house and celebrate the New Year with us. It would be best if she brought her luggage over and stayed with us for a while."
"Are we that close to her?" Chen Sizhe asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he glanced at Qi Ya.
However, even Chen Wenkang is no longer on his side. Before Qi Ya could speak, Chen Wenkang cut off Chen Sizhe's question. He tightened his grip on his thighs, leaned forward, and raised his chin, saying, "How can we not be that close? We usually discuss principles and morality with each other when we have free time. It's not an exaggeration to say that she and I are close friends despite our age difference. Is there a problem with inviting a close friend to stay at home for a while?"
“Yeah, I often chat with her on WeChat about clothes and bags, as well as skincare and makeup products; I also talk to her about any questions I have about Buddhism. She knows so much, and she always answers my questions, replying to each and every message! Unlike you, hmph.” Qi Ya gestured with her hand, making a "replying to each message" gesture in mid-air, her disdain growing more and more obvious in her gaze as she looked at Chen Sizhe.
The inevitable outcome was that Chen Sizhe was kicked out of his home and ordered to buy New Year's goods. After purchasing the goods, he had to take a picture and send it to the family group chat, and the things he bought would be subject to criticism.
Chen Sizhe, listlessly carrying his belongings, traveled to Feng'an District. After climbing three flights of stairs with tired arms and knocking on the door for five minutes, he concluded that Wen Dai was not home—a wasted trip.
He never did any free work, nor did he have any intention of making another trip or waiting for her to come home.
The moment I turned to go downstairs, the answer flashed into my mind: where was she?
The palpitations following his cardiac arrest clearly demonstrated telepathy; he had an intuition, an intuition that was dubbed a "telepathic connection."
Deliberately ignoring his discomfort, Chen Sizhe dismissed the words that had been swirling in his mind—it was normal for a Taoist to have strong intuition. On the way, he bought some more New Year's goods to send to the Qian family, and as he recalled that blue iron shed, he felt that in winter, a strong wind could easily blow it away.
Passing by the restaurant, a sixth sense kicked in, and Chen Sizhe, who didn't want to waste time, got out of the car. Feng'an District often gives people the feeling of being stuck ten years ago, with mostly gray areas and shops crammed together. This restaurant, however, is built in a European style with bright white as the main color. Occasionally seeing a brightly colored restaurant seems to give you a reason to go in.
There was a lingering suspicion. As Chen Sizhe stepped into the restaurant, a voice inside him whispered, "She definitely didn't prepare any food."
The shantytown is located at the junction of Feng'an District and Nanguang District. It is uniquely poor and remote. As you drive through it, you see towering and unique high-rise buildings receding into the distance.
The car was left at the entrance of the dilapidated alley. With the Spring Festival approaching, the area was much emptier. Walking through the alley, I noticed that there were fewer wine bottles than when I had been there before.
As they walked to the door of the iron shed, the poorly soundproofed house revealed the conversation inside. Chen Sizhe listened as Wen Dai navigated the situation with ease—she was adept at wrapping her own goodwill in a protective shell and then getting others to accept it.
Therefore, knocking should happen at the right time.
The lights were off inside. The downside of having few windows is that no light comes in if the doors aren't open, but the upside is that it's warm and cozy, so there's no need for a heater; the carbon dioxide alone is enough.
In the dimly lit space, Qian Yan, who had cooked vegetarian noodles, divided them into several bowls and placed them on the table. Unexpectedly, Wen Dai and Chen Sizhe would visit. When Qian Yan added more noodles to cook, she casually cracked a few eggs into the bowls. There were three bowls of noodles with eggs in them. One was in front of Qian Tong, and the other two were pushed to Wen Dai and Chen Sizhe.
The broth was sparse, barely enough to prevent the noodles from clumping together, and there were even fewer oil droplets, just a few. Wen Dai swapped the bowl of noodles with the egg with the plain noodles that Qian Yan hadn't even touched yet. "Sister Qian Yan, you should eat this. I'm getting dizzy from eating eggs so much. I've been eating boiled eggs at home all this time, and I feel like my cholesterol is going to be too high."
Like a mantis stalking a cicada, unaware of the oriole behind, the plain noodles that Wen Dai had scooped up were taken away by Chen Sizhe. In response to her astonished gaze, Chen Sizhe spoke matter-of-factly, stirring the noodles in the bowl he had just handed over with his chopsticks, and said in a disdainful tone, "Cholesterol isn't that easy to exceed the limit. You should eat more; it'll be good for your brain." His dismissive tone made one want to punch him a couple of times.
Wen Dai did indeed do that.
"Can't you say something nice? It's almost Chinese New Year, brother." The words were squeezed out through clenched teeth. Wen Dai glared at him fiercely, using him as a negative example again. She looked seriously at Qian Tong, who was sitting opposite her on a stool, and blinked her eyes. "Xiao Tong, you absolutely can't grow up to be like him, you know? It's very rude, and you'll easily get beaten up when you go out."
Holding the bowl of noodles, Qian Tong grinned, pecked his head hard, and agreed, "Okay! -- But I want to become as amazing as this uncle." After his loud agreement, his voice suddenly dropped with longing. He looked away and shifted his gaze to Chen Sizhe. After a brief exchange of glances, he looked away first.
I don't know much about the fabric, but I can see that the men's coat has a soft matte finish and its lines flow like water when it drapes; a wristwatch is fastened on the wrist peeking out from the cuff, and the silver three-dimensional checkered chain reflects a cold light.
As if embarrassed, Qian Tong bent his neck, his thin skin protruding from the back of his neck. He held his chopsticks and peeled the egg white from the bowl, his eyes fixed on the yolk peeking out from the bottom. He said softly, "I want to have a good job, earn a lot of money, and let my mother live in a big house. In winter, we won't have to burn firewood anymore, and we won't have to worry about the house falling apart."
His chin, covered by a leather bag, was lifted, and his bright black pupils reflected Wen Dai and Chen Sizhe across from him. The corners of his mouth were still turned up, and when facing Wen Dai, his eyes and tone were resolute. "I still want to repay Sister Wen Dai, and I want to fulfill Sister Wen Dai's wish. When I grow up, I can protect my mother and Sister Wen Dai."
His steadfastness was commendable, but Wen Dai dared not look, so Chen Sizhe became the one to offer affirmation.
“You can do it, but your current task is to take care of your health and study hard. Your ideal shouldn’t just be to make a lot of money. At your age, you can find specific goals, such as your future major and job. Only a clear direction can become a goal.” Chen Sizhe’s gaze pierced straight into Qian Tong’s eyes. He lifted his fox-like eyes and typed out words in a deep voice that were all guidance for Qian Tong.
But… Wen Dai’s eyes flickered. She turned her gaze to Chen Sizhe’s profile, while the man, without glancing at the boy not far from him, offered a rare word of positive encouragement: “Break down your goals gradually, and set your primary objective. Do you understand the pyramid principle? If not, I’ll bring you some books next time I come. Daring to dream is the first step; the next step is action. I’ll be waiting for the day you achieve your goals.”
Clearly, I can't wait any longer.
Wen Dai swallowed the words that were in her throat.
What pierced her ears was Qian Tong's resounding "Good!"
But what her gaze fell upon was the five-emperor coins hanging on Qian Tong's wrist. The five-emperor coins strung on the red string were much darker in color than before; she could see what was invisible to the naked eye. The silk-like black threads were intertwined with the five-emperor coins, and the whole Qian Tong exuded a bluish-black aura.
Her grip on the chopsticks tightened, her nails digging into her flesh, yet she couldn't regain her senses. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and even her gaze, fixed on the oil droplets in the bowl of noodles, began to dart around. Wen Dai's eyelashes fluttered against her lower eyelids several times, the warmth emanating from them quickly withdrawn.
I understand, but I don't want to understand. Fate is always cruel, and someone will always have to experience an O. Henry-esque ending—predestined from the very beginning.
After lunch, it was time to say goodbye to Qian Yan and Qian Tong. As Wen Dai walked out of the blue iron shed, the fierce wind that rolled in on her could not wake her up. She murmured, "If only there really were a ritual to prolong life."
The snow on the ground crunched underfoot, a few specks of white falling onto Chen Sizhe's eyelashes. He glanced at Wen Dai, whose face was shrouded in a daze. The snowflakes on her eyelashes melted, and his tone returned to its usual coldness: "It really exists, but ordinary people wouldn't, and they couldn't afford the consequences. Don't interfere in other people's lives. You've been in this business for so long, haven't you grasped this most basic rule of conduct? Then I suggest you work on yourself first."
A gust of wind swept by, and the bent evergreen trees shook off chunks of snow. Wen Dai was unfortunately hit on the top of her head by a clump of snow. She shivered and shrank her neck. Before she could reach out to brush the snow off, someone wiped away the icy clump for her.
What followed was a sneer. Chen Sizhe looked at her with a mocking gaze and said leisurely, "Even the heavens couldn't stand it anymore and wanted to freeze you awake."
"...Don't you understand what it means to fall into depravity consciously? Of course I know I can't interfere in other people's lives, and besides, even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to. Why did you say those things to Xiaotong just now? You clearly know that he even—" Her tone suddenly rose before she cut off her words. Wen Dai tilted her chin up, her glassy eyes meeting Chen Sizhe's, and she squeezed out the words: "No future." Her voice was deflated, suddenly devoid of strength.
Around the corner, she had to climb that narrow and badly damaged staircase again. The steps, which should have been covered in snow, had been swept by the people in the shack area. Wen Dai stepped on the wet footprints, and from behind came Chen Sizhe's calm voice: "Having no future doesn't mean you can't have hope either. The world may not have given him a future, but it hasn't taken away his right to look forward to the future, nor can it. Is it a problem to eat a few candies before you reach the end of the road?"
Her face, stiffened and cold from the snow fan, involuntarily turned around. Wen Dai's foot, which was about to step up the next step, stopped. When she turned around, she saw Chen Sizhe's usual nonchalant expression.
She countered, "I think it's better to never have hope at all than to give someone hope only to take it away."
"But hope has never been taken away, nor will it be; it is something that he wants to have, something that he is willing to have. What accompanies him for a long time to come is his hope. Hope is always there, yet it has never taken root. When he is about to leave, hope is simply going to leave with him."
His earlobes were red from the wind, and his voice leaped over with the wind.
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