Sending off festivals
The click of the seatbelt fastening echoed inside the car.
Chen Sizhe, who had started the engine, glanced at the person in the passenger seat who seemed to be playing in slow motion, and suddenly asked, "Do you have a case to overturn?"
The warmth seemed to melt away any sense of unease, and like a sloth slowly removing her hand from the seatbelt, Wen Dai leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting aimlessly. She admitted it frankly: "Yes, I've been preparing for this for years. What, are you going to help me, Attorney Chen?"
She tilted her head, her slightly upturned almond-shaped eyes glancing at him with a hint of flippancy. Her tone wasn't like she was discussing an old case, but rather like casual conversation: "I only have enough money to hire a top lawyer right now, not enough to pull strings. Sigh—I can't compare to you guys who were born into privilege. I wonder how much longer I'll have to wait before I meet a kind person willing to lend me a hand."
The points about "pulling strings" and "only having enough money to hire a top lawyer" suggest that the case Wen Dai wants to overturn likely involves some important figures. Chen Sizhe, unusually, felt a pang of pity; he glanced at her several times, but his lips, which were about to part, ultimately remained still.
Actually, her problem isn't just about smoothing things over; the amount of money she spends on a lawyer is probably not the main issue. The real issue is finding a lawyer willing to take on her case. Cases involving important figures are murky waters, and without confidence, who would dare to get involved?
He suddenly disappeared without Wen Dai noticing. She was holding her phone, fiddling with the case, her nails idly scratching at it, but her mouth was quick: "But... Chen Sizhe, I've found you're quite thoughtful." Her soft voice vanished in an instant, as if she didn't want to be heard.
"You were too obvious just now. When Lai Wenyi mentioned that her father was the chairman of the case-handling committee, your subconscious reaction was to stop, grab her arm, quickly raise your upper eyelids and eyebrows, dilate your pupils significantly, and relax your jaw; after about two seconds, your cheekbones lifted, and your pupils remained dilated." Chen Sizhe, who was focused on driving, seemed to have two brains. He didn't even glance at Wen Dai out of the corner of his eye. He seemed like a competent driver, but the content he expressed was like a scanner presenting information—his brain was reviewing the details from earlier, while his actions remained reliable.
After a moment of stunned silence, Wen Dai swallowed and licked her lips. She glanced at him sideways, a smirk playing on her lips, and snorted, "You're still showing off your attentiveness, aren't you? You even noticed facial details. Chen Sizhe, did you used to work at the Chizheng Institute? Besides, that's not what I was talking about..." Her voice dropped sharply after the teasing, and she mumbled the words out.
When they reached a red light, Chen Sizhe slammed on the brakes. He turned his head and glanced at her sideways, one hand still resting on the steering wheel, his demeanor casual. "Which one are you talking about?" he asked precisely, ignoring irrelevant questions.
It's really difficult to lay your vulnerable side bare before someone, even if they already know it. Wen Dai's phone case was half torn off, the poor silicone being pinched by her fingernails. She bit her lower lip lightly, her drooping black eyelashes casting a narrow shadow on her lower eyelid. "It was... when I first got here."
It's hard to say, I can't very well say it was when she was watching other families having a happy and harmonious time and she was shedding tears.
The person lying in his eyes seemed trapped in a deep pit of entanglement. Chen Sizhe watched her being manipulated and twisted, and then he caught a glimpse of the green light. He slowly turned his gaze away, and the car drove forward again. The answer was stuck in his throat, and he finally managed to say, "Oh, I see."
He preserved her self-respect.
"I'm curious why." Seeing him avoid her again, Wen Dai, who really wanted to avoid him, chose to face him directly. She leaned against the back of the chair, her eyes fixed intently on his profile.
The man didn't move, but from the side, I could see that little bit of her skin twitching: "I have no interest in watching someone keep tearing their own scars apart."
Her eyes felt strangely sore, and her heart softened slightly. Wen Dai silently turned around and shrank back into the car seat, her shoulders hunched inward, her neck bent and her head lowered.
She laughed for no reason, the laughter so sudden that it finally made the driver, who was not doing his job properly, turn and glance at her.
"From what you're saying, it sounds like I'm playing with peel-off patches. Actually, if you peel them off too many times, the scar might not become a scar anymore. It might just become a peel-off patch shaped like a scar, but it won't hurt anymore because it's just in the shape of a scar," she murmured.
"That's just your imagination. The truth is: your 'no more pain' might just be an increased pain threshold, psychological desensitization, or damage to nerve endings. The rotting of the wound is inevitable. The numbness caused by repeated tearing is like adding fuel to the fire. The risk of systemic infection manifests psychologically as emotional dissociation, and the emotions will inevitably retaliate sooner or later." With such a cold tone, Chen Sizhe directly discarded Wen Dai's armor.
Wen Dai shrugged, sat up straight, and sighed with her chin raised, "People who are too rational really deserve a beating. Oh well, I'll let you off the hook since you're driving. Otherwise, I might not even have celebrated my 22nd birthday by the time I'm 21." She made herself sound quite magnanimous.
-
The burial site was selected online by Wen Dai. The phone call ended abruptly, and she put down her phone, got up from the sofa, and walked to the balcony.
With her hands resting on the windowsill, she leaned forward, letting her head peek out of the house. Snowflakes fell softly, the icy particles stinging her face. Feeling the dampness on her frozen skin, Wen Dai took a deep breath, the refreshing coolness filling her nostrils.
I'm awake now.
Downstairs, there was the clattering sound of suitcase wheels. There were a few fewer cars parked by the flower bed than yesterday. Wen Dai looked up into the distance and murmured unconsciously, "It's almost New Year's again..." She was alone again.
"It's been so long since I visited Sister Qianyan and Xiaotong..." she muttered to herself as she turned around. She had forgotten to close the window, and the howling cold wind, carrying snow, rushed in, but she didn't care.
Fortunately, she remembered to pick up her phone—it wasn't until she finished paying for her New Year's goods at the small supermarket that Wen Dai suddenly remembered that the window in her house was open. Holding her phone, which she had just used to scan the payment code, she felt relieved.
Among the New Year's goods she was carrying were pure milk and snacks, as well as two sets of clothes that she had hastily purchased at the mall.
Carrying her heavy load, she walked and stopped frequently, finally arriving at the blue iron shed at noon. Wen Dai banged on the door and called out from the cramped space, "Sister Qian Yan, Xiao Tong!"
The heavy iron gate scraped against the cement floor as Qian Tong opened it. In the new year, the thin little boy suddenly grew taller, growing up without anyone noticing, and was now as tall as Wen Dai, or even a little taller.
The little boy grinned, his wide eyes sparkling, and his voice, no longer childish, said, "Sister Wen Dai!"
"Hey, Xiaotong has grown taller. Here, take this. Now that you're taller, Xiaotong can help me carry things." Wen Dai handed him the milk and snacks in her hand. She noticed that his outstretched hand easily pulled out his undershirt, and then she noticed the prominent veins on his wrist. Her brows furrowed.
As Wen Dai went inside, Qian Tong closed the open door. Wen Dai put down the clothes she was carrying, looked up, and greeted Qian Yan, who was hurriedly carrying water, "Happy New Year, Sister Qian Yan."
Steam rose from the cup filled with boiling water. Qian Yan's fitted red cotton-padded jacket reached just above her knees, and her black cotton trousers, which covered her legs, revealed her slender figure.
She glanced at the gifts Wen Dai had brought, and as she straightened up, her hands clasped together, her expression revealing her unease, and her eyes showing signs of redness. "Oh, little sister, Happy New Year. Why did you bring gifts again? You don't need to go to so much trouble. My son and I are troubling you too much."
"What's the big deal? It's not like I'm short of money. I'm just buying some milk for Xiaotong to supplement her nutrition. She doesn't usually get to eat snacks, so she should at least have some during the New Year. Oh, consider it an exchange for me coming over for a free meal. I don't want to cook myself, so I just want to try Sister Qian Yan's cooking again." Wen Dai smiled at Qian Yan, her lively eyes brimming with a light smile. She turned around and sat down on the wooden chair covered with a blanket, patting the fluffy bag underneath with her hand.
However, Qian Yan's eyes welled up even more. Behind her was the kitchen, and in the pot on the gas stove, noodles were simmering. She wouldn't even buy a chicken until the actual New Year—Wen Dai knew all too well that. She just wanted her to accept it with a clearer conscience.
Wen Dai pinched out a corner of the down jacket inside, her face beaming with a smile. "I also went to the mall. It's the New Year, time to wear new clothes. Sister Qian Yan, you and Xiao Tong should try them on. I didn't buy any fancy styles, just plain black long jackets."
Wen Dai handed one of the shopping bags to Qian Yan. She then bent down and took out another down jacket from the shopping bag. She walked around the wooden table in front of her and walked to Qian Tong, who was standing by the cabinet. She held the long, pure black down jacket up to Qian Tong's body for a moment before stuffing it into Qian Tong's arms.
Wen Dai tugged at Qian Tong's short black down jacket, pinched out the loose gray undershirt from the cuff, and looked at him with a smile, "Look at you, how thin you've become! Boys can't be too skinny, you have to be strong if you want to protect your mother; also, look at the state of your clothes, come on, change into the clothes your sister bought for you, you have to wear new clothes for the New Year."
The fourteen-year-old boy blushed after being teased by Wen Dai. He hugged the down jacket in his arms, lowered his head, and said in a small but firm voice, "The clothes I'm wearing are fine, they're not damaged, and... they were bought by Sister Wen Dai last year, they're still very new, I can still wear them."
“It’s one thing to still be able to wear it, but it’s the New Year, so you have to wear something new for the New Year.” Facing the little boy she had watched grow up, Wen Dai sighed softly, a mixture of relief and bitterness in her chest, and patted his arm with her raised hand.
Under Wen Dai's persistent persuasion, Qian Tong finally reluctantly changed out of her short down jacket.
As it turns out, the long down jacket is indeed warmer than the short one. Wrapped in the down jacket, he exclaimed with delight, "So comfortable! It feels like wearing a quilt."
After trying on the new clothes, Qian Yan changed back into her original red cotton-padded jacket. She carefully put the down jacket that Wen Dai had brought into the depths of the wardrobe, then turned her head away from Wen Dai and said, "Little sister, are you in a hurry to eat? If not, I'll go to the market next door to buy some vegetables first."
Then she realized with a pang of regret that she had forgotten to buy some groceries. Wen Dai turned her head away and clicked her tongue, but when she raised her head again, a smile spread across her face. "No need to trouble yourself. Everything Sister Qian Yan makes is delicious. I'll eat whatever you eat."
No sooner had he finished speaking than the iron gate, which had only been bolted shut not long ago, banged loudly once again.
The three people inside looked at each other. Qian Tong, who was closest to the door, walked over and opened the latch. The dimly lit corner of the room was illuminated by the sudden burst of sunlight, and the figure standing at the door was tall and slender.
"Chen Sizhe?" Upon seeing the newcomer's face, Wen Dai's tone instinctively betrayed her astonishment.
After walking in and placing the New Year's goods he was carrying in front of the cabinet, Chen Sizhe glanced at Wen Dai, then his gaze shifted to the equally astonished Qian Tong and Qian Yan. "Sorry to bother you. I was just passing by and thought I'd give you a visit."
"I passed by a restaurant and got a few dishes to go." He held the packing bag higher, glanced at the food, and then placed it on the wooden table.
It's true what they say, what you lack comes to pass.
Once she had recovered, Qian Yan raised her hand and waved it in the air. She pointed at the long wooden bench, her movements slightly embarrassed. "No problem, no problem. You've gone to so much trouble. You two are really... too kind."
The neglected pot was bubbling and gurgling, and Qian Yan hurriedly stepped back. She lifted the lid, turned down the heat, and raised her voice, saying, "Xiao Tong, quickly go and pour the guest a cup of hot water."
Chen Sizhe, who sat down next to Wen Dai, was met with Wen Dai's wary gaze. She tilted her head back, her raised eyes filled with suspicion, "What are you doing here all of a sudden?"
Noticing the look in her eyes, Chen Sizhe withdrew the truth from his lips and leisurely withdrew his gaze from her face, saying lightly, "You came if you wanted to. A business partner doesn't have to care about where their partner is, does they?"
It's not like you can just come and go as you please—
With the Spring Festival approaching, Qi Ya was at home counting the New Year's goods to be sent out, while Chen Wenkang was lounging on the sofa with his laptop on his lap.
Chen Sizhe, who had brought some gifts, happened to arrive just in time; before he even stepped out of the elevator, their conversation reached his ears first:
"The Spring Festival has become more and more boring these past few years. It's the same routine over and over again. The kids in my family are all grown up now, and they don't stay for long... Whenever I see other people's kids, the same age as Chen Sizhe, they're either with their fiancées or holding babies. Ugh, it gives me a headache. I'm so envious, and the more I see, the more worried I get." Qi Ya's complaints were high-pitched and thin.
“Yes, that’s true, but pushing too hard won’t work.” Chen Wenkang was the one who agreed with Chen Sizhe but secretly protected him.
Chen Sizhe pulled his foot back from the elevator, took the things in his hand and placed them next to the shoe cabinet, leaving only his upper body briefly out of the elevator lobby.
but--
"Hey, Chen Sizhe!"
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