3. Keep moving forward and don’t look back
Tang Sizhu returned to the car but did not leave. She turned on Zeng Xiasheng's mobile phone and found that he had only sent two text messages.
One was for her, and the other was for his grandmother.
After Zeng Xiasheng's arrest, his grandfather suffered a heart attack and died before his sentencing, leaving his grandmother, lame in one leg, living on the minimum living allowance. Even before the incident, he and his grandparents weren't close; at most, they shared a roof, providing him with three meals a day, but that was about it. So when his clothes got torn, his shoes got too small, or he needed to pay for exercise books at school, he had to collect scrap and sell it for money.
In Tang Sizhuo's childhood memories, Zeng Xiasheng was always grimy, yet nimble as a monkey, able to scale telephone poles with his bare hands and scramble into the yard with his rattling snakeskin bag. She would crouch by the second-floor bedroom window and watch him, his exposed skin tanned red and black, sweat dripping down his hair, as he searched through trash cans from house to house, leaning halfway inside to rummage through cans and scrap newspapers.
She was too young, and Xiao Tong wouldn't let her go out, so she didn't understand anything. She didn't even know what he was doing with the things he was picking up. She thought he was playing a treasure hunt, a lot of fun. Occasionally, when Zeng Xiasheng would dig out a discarded toy and play with it in a corner, she would follow him upstairs, quietly enjoying herself. When Xiao Tong wasn't home, she would imitate Zeng Xiasheng, rummaging through the family trash cans, playing games with herself. If she found an empty jam jar, she would be delighted for a while. Sometimes she would deliberately throw away snacks that were still in their packaging, but Zeng Xiasheng wouldn't always find them. They might be found and eaten by the neighbor's pet dog, leaving her sulking for a long time.
Tang Sizhuo got back into his car, turned on his computer, and while replying to emails from clients, he kept an eye on the goings on in the repair shop. A little after nine o'clock, a short, plump woman came in, apparently to bring them food. A moment later, Chen Tianhao left with her, leaving Zeng Xiasheng alone in the shop.
After hesitating for a moment, Tang Sizhuo opened the door, got out of the car, and walked to the door of the store quietly.
There were no streetlights in the alley, only a faint light coming from the repair shop. Tang Sizhuo was hidden in the darkness, staring quietly into the house.
Zeng Xiasheng had already replaced the screen for her and had turned it on and checked, and everything seemed to be normal.
But he didn't leave. Instead, he sat behind his small workbench, staring blankly at the back of his phone. A lit cigarette lay beside him, leaning against his tools, burning faintly.
"Why don't you go back and rest?" Tang Sizhuo asked softly.
Zeng Xiasheng seemed to have noticed him at the door and was not surprised. He slowly stood up and handed her the phone.
"It's fixed."
Tang Sizhuo didn't answer.
So he put his phone on the table, pushed it to the edge towards her, and began to pack up his tools.
Tang Sizhuo said nothing and stood by and watched him.
"Why did you come back?" Zeng Xiasheng suddenly asked her.
"I have so many questions. If you don't tell me, I can only come back and check it myself."
Zeng Xiasheng paused, looked up at her, and spoke indifferently.
"The verdict is clearly written. What else do you want to check?"
Tang Sizhu looked into his eyes and shook his head.
"You're not that kind of person."
Zeng Xiasheng sneered, "You've made a mistake."
"I don't believe you're harboring grudges and killing people—"
"It's true that Sun Changming insulted me publicly, and it's also true that he died at my hands. It's just that you don't want to believe there's a causal relationship. No matter how much you investigate, the result will be the same."
He didn't want to pay any more attention to her, so he picked up the key on the table and prepared to lock the shutter door and leave, but she held his hand. Her fingertips were cold and trembling slightly, but she was holding them tightly, as if she was afraid he would escape.
"Then why... did you leave a note for me?"
Zeng Xiasheng was about to deny it when Tang Sizhuo suddenly grabbed his collar and demanded, "How dare you say you didn't write it?"
Zeng Xiasheng was stunned by her rare attitude, but after the last syllable was followed by an uncontrollable sob. She collapsed before his eyes, from shoulders to spine, inch by inch.
Tang Sizhuo was also present on the day his stepfather Sun Changming was killed.
She fell into a coma due to a cold and a high fever. She vaguely heard the sounds of tables and chairs falling over and glass breaking, but she had a severe headache. She tried hard to open her eyes, but her vision was intermittent and she could only see some swaying light and shadows.
In the ten years since leaving Jiangming City, this nightmare has haunted her every day. She sometimes can't tell which memories are real and which are fantasies she's embellished with day after day.
She didn't remember who woke her up, she only remembered that when she woke up, the living room was covered in blood and a mess, and a tightly wrapped forensic doctor was examining her stepfather's body.
Zeng Xiasheng was covered in blood, his face bruised and swollen. He barely opened his right eye and, through the gradually coagulating blood, turned to look at her. He was immediately restrained by the police and forced to squat in a corner. His hands were handcuffed behind his back, and the metal reflected in the living room ceiling light, making her head buzz.
Someone came to take her somewhere else and helped her walk a few steps outside. She stumbled back and grabbed the police officer's clothes like a lifeline. She heard her own hoarse voice asking over and over again, "What happened? What happened?"
They said that Zeng Xiasheng climbed through the window on the second floor, had a conflict with Sun Changming, and finally beat him to death.
She doesn't believe it.
But Zeng Xiasheng also said so, and she couldn't help but believe it.
Zeng Xiasheng remained silent all the way, keeping a distance of three or four steps from her, and sent Tang Sizhuo out of the alley.
"Don't come again," he said.
Tang Sizhuo stared at him, didn't get in the car, and didn't say anything.
Zeng Xiasheng exhaled heavily and frowned. "I'm a murderer, do you understand? This house can be rented to me, and it can also be rented to other people like me. There are no surveillance cameras here. Do you know how many people will stare at you if you come in and out like this?"
The corners of Tang Sizhuo's eyes were red and wet, but his voice had calmed down.
"Didn't you say I misjudged you? Then why do you care about my safety?"
Zeng Xiasheng was so angry at her that his head started to ache and he turned around to leave.
"Zeng Xiasheng." Tang Sizhuo called him from behind. "I said back then that I don't believe you killed someone out of spite, even if you admitted it yourself. I still don't believe it now."
She paused, then continued, "Whether you think we've never dated or have broken up, the deceased is my stepfather, and I was at the scene. I have the right to demand to know the truth."
After saying that, Tang Sizhuo slammed the car door and disappeared from Zeng Xiasheng's gloomy sight.
For many days afterwards, Tang Sizhuo did not come again.
Chen Tianhao could clearly feel that his friend sitting next to him was in a bad mood, but he didn't dare to ask.
He held it in for a long time, and finally Zeng Xiasheng came to talk to him.
"Where can I buy some supplements nearby? I'm going to visit my grandma and give her some living expenses."
He'd been in prison for ten years, and Grandma had only visited him once, when the guards took pity on him and repeatedly begged her to come. But no matter what, she'd supported him. He'd done so many wrong things in his life, his life had been a mess, and now he was starting over, so she didn't want to feel guilty about such a trivial matter.
Zeng Xiasheng took the two cans of goat milk powder Chen Tianhao had instructed him to buy, went to the bank to withdraw 2,000 yuan in cash, and returned to the suburban house he had lived in for nearly twenty years. Before his accident, the house was included in the demolition plan, and the neighbors were waiting for money and housing. In the end, due to fiscal austerity, the plan was repeatedly delayed and never came to fruition. Now it was dilapidated, mostly rented by young people from the countryside who had come to the city for work.
Grandma had just finished her meal and was sitting by the door, basking in the sun. Zeng Xiasheng approached her, but she didn't react. So he walked around, into the living room, and placed the money under the milk powder can on the dining table.
"What sins have I committed in my life?" Grandma muttered to herself in dialect without looking back. "I gave birth to three sons, but only your father survived. He's also a good-for-nothing. He indulges in drinking, whoring, gambling, and even gave me a murderer grandson. I wish I had died sooner."
Zeng Xiasheng pretended not to hear and retreated from the living room, saying in a low voice, "I've got some living expenses for you, and some milk powder. I'm leaving now, so take care of yourself."
The old man ignored him, as if he was disgusted by even looking at him for a second, and he was too lazy to ask about his current situation.
Zeng Xiasheng took it as a given. He recalled his old market, bought a bag of fruit, and took it to the local neighborhood committee. The old man had come to visit him in prison, and while scolding him, he'd mentioned that his grandfather had become ill because of him, and that he hadn't been cured, and that he'd even incurred a large debt. His aunt had only paid back a small amount and then stopped caring. The neighborhood committee had helped him apply for a subsidy of 2,000 yuan a month, which slowly paid off the debt.
However, after asking around, he found that no one in the neighborhood committee knew about this. He couldn't even find the staff member with short gray hair and a mole at the corner of his eye that she mentioned casually.
Perhaps it was his aunt who had suffered from the son preference since childhood and was helping him secretly, or it could be an old friend that his grandfather had mentioned before, but Zeng Xiasheng kept thinking of Tang Sizhuo as he sat on the bus on the way back, even though he knew very well that Sun Changming left behind a pile of debts after his death, and Xiao Tong had returned to her parents' home and no longer cared about her, so it was almost impossible for Tang Sizhuo to have the money to afford such financial support.
As the car passed through the city center, he subconsciously glanced outside. Here sat a comprehensive plaza built during Jiangming City's heyday. To the east stood a shopping mall, to the west high-end office buildings. While the area was now in decline, the core area was still quite bustling. Tang Sizhuo had returned to work. Zeng Xiasheng didn't know where her office was, but he subconsciously felt that this was the only place worthy of her.
Unexpectedly, when he took a casual glance, he actually saw Tang Sizhuo in a camel coat walking out of the office building while talking on the phone, looking around as if waiting for someone.
The bus merged onto the main road, snarled by the evening rush hour. Zeng Xiasheng told himself not to worry, but couldn't help but glance sideways. Her high heels seemed uncomfortable. She hung up the phone, kicked her calves back, tapped her toes on the ground, and gently wiggled her ankle.
Not long after, a black car stopped in front of her. Tang Sizhu leaned over and said a few words to the driver, and then the car drove into the underground parking lot. A few minutes later, a man in a black jacket came out of the office building and waved to her from a distance.
The bus started suddenly, Zeng Xiasheng staggered, and the fruit in his arms almost fell out, and he hurriedly held it in his arms.
They seem familiar.
The man had his back to him, looking relaxed, gesturing as he spoke, as if explaining something. Tang Sizhuo smiled, shook his head, and pointed to the shopping mall across the street. Then, shoulder to shoulder, chatting and laughing, they joined the crowd and walked through a beautifully manicured garden, probably heading to the mall for dinner.
The bus kept stopping and starting, shaking Zeng Xiasheng so much that he felt like vomiting.
He clutched the front seat tightly and buried his head in his arms, feeling his stomach churning and his throat blocked.
That’s good, he thought to himself, that’s good.
Go forward, Tang Sizhuo, and never look back.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
