Chapter 15 He's a Nice Guy
The snow stopped for a rare moment, the sun appeared dimly, the accumulated snow began to melt, and Yu Hao walked towards the village on the slippery road. His steps were very slow, as if every step was very difficult. At the corner, the familiar green-painted wooden door of Luo Xin's house was closed, and there was no smoke from the chimney. Obviously, no one was at home. His gaze lingered for a moment, and he turned and walked towards Uncle Zhang's chess and card room. When he pushed open the door, the smoke in the room had not yet dissipated, forming a hazy veil in the beam of light. There was no one playing cards in the room. In the empty room, only Uncle Zhang was hunched over, picking up the scattered mahjong tiles, his back revealing an unspeakable loneliness. "Xiao Hao?" Hearing the door open, Uncle Zhang raised his head and saw Yu Hao. He leaned against the chess and card table, straightening his back. His spine made a soft, creaking sound, like a machine that had lost its lubrication after years of neglect. "Why are you here at this hour?" "Uncle Zhang," Yu Hao smiled. He took off his muddy coat and hung it behind the door. "I was just passing by and happened to see you." He walked over to the table and helped Uncle Zhang put the scattered mahjong tiles into their boxes. "Is it about the case?" Uncle Zhang's face hesitated. Yu Hao didn't answer, but placed a brown paper package on the table. "I brought you some tea on my business trip a while ago, but I forgot to bring it when I came here yesterday." The package was printed with "Wuyishan Dahongpao." It was indeed something he had bought for his business trip last month. Besides drinking tea, Uncle Zhang had no other hobbies. The corners of Uncle Zhang's mouth twitched, and a fleeting smile forced itself through his wrinkles. "You kids..." He shook his head and sighed softly. "You don't need to bring anything home. Lili and Liu Feng always come back with huge bags. How could I possibly finish them all by myself?" Uncle Zhang said the word "home" naturally, yet it was like a fine needle, silently piercing Yu Hao's heart. He closed his eyes slightly, and when he opened them again, a layer of tears welled up in them, but quickly evaporated in the sunlight. "I remember when I was little, I often came to your place for meals," he whispered, placing the last "Fa Cai" coin into the box. "I could eat three bowls of your braised pork in one sitting." Uncle Zhang paused, his hand, covered in age spots, hovering in mid-air. The floodgates of memory suddenly opened, and the past came flooding back like a tide. "You kid..." His voice suddenly softened. "You were as thin as a bamboo pole back then, but you had a big appetite." The rag wiped across the table, leaving a wet trail. "You had a high fever once, and it was Xiaoli who put an ice pack on you. Remember?" "I do."
The snow stopped falling for a rare moment, and the sun shone dimly. The snow began to melt, and Yu Hao walked towards the village on the slippery road. His steps were slow, as if each step was difficult.
At the corner, the familiar green-painted wooden door of Luo Xin's house was closed, and there was no smoke coming out of the chimney. It was obvious that no one was at home.
His gaze lingered for a moment, then he turned and walked towards Uncle Zhang's chess and card room. When he pushed open the door, the smoke in the room had not yet dissipated, forming a hazy veil in the light beam.
There was no one playing cards in the house. In the empty room, only Uncle Zhang was hunched over, picking up the scattered mahjong tiles. His back revealed an indescribable loneliness.
"Xiao Hao?" Hearing the door open, Uncle Zhang raised his head and saw Yu Hao.
He leaned against the chess and card table, straightening his back. His spine made a soft clicking sound, like a machine that had lost its lubrication after years of neglect. "Why did I get here at this hour?"
"Uncle Zhang." Yu Hao smiled. He took off his muddy coat and hung it behind the door. "I was passing by and just happened to come see you."
He walked to the table and helped Uncle Zhang put the scattered mahjong tiles into the box one by one.
"Is it about the case?" Uncle Zhang looked hesitant.
Yu Hao didn't answer, but placed the brown paper bag in his hand on the table. "I brought you some tea on a business trip a while ago, but I forgot to bring it when I came here yesterday."
The words "Wuyishan Dahongpao" were printed on the paper package. He had indeed bought it specially for his business trip last month. Besides drinking tea, Uncle Zhang had no other hobbies.
Uncle Zhang's mouth twitched, a fleeting smile forced through his wrinkles. "You kids..."
He shook his head and sighed, "You don't need to bring anything home. Lily and Liu Feng always come back with huge bags. How can I finish them all by myself?"
Uncle Zhang said the word "go home" very naturally, but it was like a thin needle that silently pierced Yu Hao's heart.
He closed his eyes slightly, and when he opened them again, a layer of tears appeared in his eyes, but they quickly evaporated in the sunlight.
"I remember when I was little, I often came here to eat for free." He said softly, putting the last "Fa Cai" coin into the box, "I could eat three bowls of the braised pork you made in one meal."
Uncle Zhang paused, his age-spotted hand suspended in mid-air. Suddenly, the floodgates of memory opened, and the past flooded back like a tide.
"You kid..." His voice suddenly softened, "You were as thin as a bamboo pole back then, but you had a big appetite."
The rag wiped across the table, leaving a wet trail. "One time you had a high fever, and it was Xiaoli who applied an ice pack to you. Remember?"
"I remember." Yu Hao's fingertips trembled slightly. "How old was Zhang Li at that time? Twelve or thirteen, maybe. Her hands were small, but very steady."
His voice deepened, like a dull knife slowly cutting through memories. "Your family has always been very kind to me."
There is so much unspeakable gratitude hidden in these words.
During the years when his parents passed away, it was Uncle Zhang's braised pork that warmed his stomach, and it was Aunt Liu's wontons that warmed his heart...
He never forgot the kindness of so many people in the village.
Uncle Zhang stopped what he was doing and gave him a long look. "Why are you saying this?"
He walked to the coal stove in the corner, where the tin kettle was spewing white steam. "Have some hot tea. It's cold, so let's chat and try the tea you brought."
Yu Hao handed over the tea and sat down. In the steamy air, he saw that the back of Uncle Zhang's hands were covered with age spots, and his knuckles were thick and deformed. Time had left too many marks on this old man.
"Where's Zhang Li?" he asked casually.
"I went to the hospital with Liu Feng." Uncle Zhang held up a teacup. "Her mother-in-law is sick with stomach cancer. I'm usually busy with classes, so I can only help take care of her when I don't have classes."
Zhang Li is the head teacher of a primary school in the suburbs of Qindao. She teaches Chinese and is very popular among students.
"I met Liu Feng in the hospital yesterday." Yu Hao took over the topic naturally, but the corners of his mouth twitched uncontrollably.
"You went to the hospital too?" Uncle Zhang looked up suddenly, his eyes almost filled with concern. "Are you sick?"
"I'm fine." Yu Hao avoided his gaze. "I'm going to see a friend."
"Oh." Uncle Zhang nodded, his wrinkles smoothing out. "I'm glad you're okay."
He took a sip of tea. "You young people are healthy, which is better than anything else. We old bones..." He paused and suddenly smiled. "If I can protect you from disasters and misfortunes, then my life will not be in vain."
Yu Hao's hands were shaking so much that he could barely hold the teacup. He didn't meet Uncle Zhang's eyes. "Don't say that," he said in a low, moving voice. "You will live a long life."
"Haha, I hope so." Uncle Zhang drank another glass, and his Adam's apple rolled, moving the loose skin on his neck.
Sunlight streamed in through the window, and the police badge gleamed in the beam.
Yu Hao took a deep breath and forced himself to return to the case. "It's not easy for Liu Feng to work during the day and take care of his mother at night."
Uncle Zhang nodded, his eyes drifting out the window. Melted snow dripped from the eaves like strings of transparent pearls.
"Yes, this child is filial, and it's been difficult during this period." His tone suddenly became complicated, "Xiao Li just found out she was pregnant some time ago."
"Zhang Li is pregnant?" Yu Hao put down the teacup, his brows unconsciously frowned.
"What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing." Yu Hao quickly adjusted his expression, "I just feel like... time has passed too quickly."
"Faster?" Uncle Zhang suddenly smiled, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes knitting together. "You're slow." He refilled Yu Hao's tea. "Think about it, you're almost thirty."
"Haha, it is true." Yu Hao looked at the smoke that filled the room and suddenly remembered something, "Since you are pregnant, secondhand smoke is not good for pregnant women."
Uncle Zhang was stunned for a moment, then slapped his forehead: "Look at my memory." He walked to the window, and the old window frame made a harsh groan, "I have to let them smoke outside in the future." The cold wind mixed with the smell of melting snow rushed in, diluting the smell of smoke in the room.
"Xiao Li..." Uncle Zhang's voice suddenly softened. "I've loved children since I was little, that's why I became a teacher. Now I've finally gotten what I wanted."
"Seeing her happy makes me happy too." This is Yu Hao's sincere words. The little girl with pigtails in my memory is now going to be a mother. "Just make sure to rest well and don't get too tired."
"Well, Liu Feng is considerate of her." Uncle Zhang nodded with satisfaction.
"He's a nice guy." Yu Hao weighed his words, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the rim of his teacup. In all his years as a police officer, he had never hesitated as much as he did now.
The two of them fell silent, the only sound being the occasional crackling of the charcoal fire in the coal stove. The aroma of tea slowly permeated the air, with a hint of bitterness and sweetness.
"Uncle Zhang, I want to use the bathroom." Yu Hao suddenly stood up.
"Go to the second floor." Uncle Zhang waved his hand without any hesitation.
The stairs were outside the door, their wooden steps polished to a shine by age. Yu Hao's footsteps were light, yet they still caused the old stairs to groan slightly.
Opposite the bathroom on the second floor is Zhang Li and his wife's bedroom, and a ray of light shines through the crack of the door.
As he went downstairs, he calmly erased the footprints from the bathroom to the bedroom.
Uncle Zhang was still lost in thought at the tea table, the steam from his cup long gone. "This tea is really good," he said, smiling as he saw Yu Hao return, raising his cup. "The last time I had tea this good was when Old Li brought it back from Fujian ten years ago."
"As long as you like it." Yu Hao sat down again. "Where were we talking about just now?"
"Haha, you kid..." Uncle Zhang shook his head, his eyes suddenly becoming sharp, "It's rare to have time to chat with your uncle Zhang."
Yu Hao filled his tea, "It's my problem." He admitted with a wry smile.
"We were just talking about my son-in-law." Uncle Zhang's tone suddenly became vague. "He's a good guy. I'm quite satisfied with him." His fingers suddenly trembled.
"How's Liu Feng's work going lately?" Yu Hao asked softly. "I heard he's the lobby manager at Gold Coast?"
Uncle Zhang's body visibly stiffened, and the teacup tilted slightly in his hand, spilling a few drops of tea. "Well, the salary is higher there, but..." He hesitated.
"What's wrong, Uncle Zhang?"
The old man sighed, his voice suddenly lowered. "They're all my own children, I won't hide it from you." He rubbed his face and said, "They often come home in the middle of the night." After a pause, he added, "Sometimes they have injuries on their bodies..."
"Injured?" Yu Hao frowned even tighter.
"He said he fell." Uncle Zhang shook his head, worry almost overflowing in his eyes, "But the bruise..."
He didn't finish, but Yu Hao already understood. The bruise on Liu Feng's wrist in the hospital was particularly clear in his mind at this moment.
"Uncle Zhang," he chose his words carefully, "if there's anything I can help you with..."
Uncle Zhang smiled and said, "You're thoughtful." His voice was choked with emotion. "But every family has its own problems. I'm old now. When I was young, I was with your master. Well, it's better not to talk about it..."
After helping Uncle Zhang clean up the last box of mahjong, Yu Hao walked over to the old man and found that his hands were shaking violently.
He gently held the calloused hands, feeling the fragile bones beneath the skin. "Uncle Zhang, don't overthink it."
Uncle Zhang raised his head, the light in his eyes suddenly becoming fragile. "Xiao Hao..." His voice was as light as a sigh, "If Liu Feng... I mean if..."
The old man suddenly choked up. "If he has done something wrong, please help him. But if he has violated the law..." Tears finally fell. "Just arrest him, okay?"
This old man who has been strong all his life now looks like a helpless child.
"Everything will be fine, Uncle Zhang." Yu Hao opened his hand, and the warmth of the old man still remained in his palm.
Before going out, he helped Uncle Zhang lock the doors and windows - the old man said he was going to buy groceries and wait for his daughter and son-in-law to come back for dinner.
A cold wind swept through the alley, and Uncle Zhang shrank his neck unconsciously. Yu Hao took off his own cashmere scarf and wrapped it around the old man. "It's cold, take care of yourself."
Uncle Zhang touched the soft scarf. "You..." His voice trembled. "You've been sensible since you were little." His rough fingers brushed Yu Hao's arm. "You have to take care of yourself. Don't be too hard on yourself. You always have to look forward."
"Okay." Yu Hao nodded and watched the old man's staggering back disappear at the alley.
He stood there, letting out a long breath. The white mist slowly dissipated in the cold air, just like those unspeakable worries.
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