Chapter 374
During the break, a boy in a yellow and white wool vest came in and asked, "Have you ever borrowed anything from Wang Jiazhi, like a book?"
The others in the classroom were a little surprised when they heard this name. He had been absent from school for over a year, so why was he suddenly mentioned at this time?
The boy said, "Someone was visiting her family, and I happened to borrow a book from her. When she left, she forgot to return it." He flipped through the book for a while and scratched his head, "Do you want me to leave it at home or at school?"
Then he flipped through the desk and said, "There's also a letter sent to the school, and her student ID. They were handed out after everyone left."
The next day, the boy borrowed Wang Jiazhi's copy of "Chronicles of Ming Poetry" from home, as well as her letter and student ID card.
When he handed it to the person who came, the boy smiled brightly and asked, "Is she okay now?"
The man forced a smile and said, "Okay."
"That's great." But seeing that the other person's expression was a little abnormal, it was strange for the boy.
"Do you have her address in Shanghai?"
"How could you not know?"
"Oh, she wrote down the address, but accidentally lost it. If you knew it, you wouldn't have to ask."
The boy went back into the classroom and heard someone shouting, "Does anyone know Wang Jiazhi's address?"
After a long moment of silence, the boy came out and said, "No one knows. It seems she lives with her aunt. We'd better ask her herself."
Then he asked again: "She is fine, right? Has she left Shanghai?"
"Yes, very good."
The man put his student ID and the letter in his book, thanked him, and walked away, thinking to himself, "It would be better if I died."
When the boy saw the person leaving, he felt something was wrong and the smile on his face dimmed.
He is the class monitor and also Wang Jiazhi's deskmate.
Wang Jiazhi rarely interacted with others and rarely smiled. Seeing that she was very frugal in her food and clothing, people assumed she was avoiding people because of her low self-esteem and financial difficulties.
Later, someone who went to the same school as her in Hong Kong told her that her father had abandoned her. When others asked her about it, she said she was living with her aunt, but then she didn't say anything else.
A year ago, she suddenly dropped out of school, which wasn't surprising to anyone else. Judging from her appearance, life was already struggling, so it wasn't surprising she couldn't continue her studies. Her classmates assumed she was getting married, the only way out for a girl like her. Even after finishing her studies, finding a job was difficult, let alone before she finished. There was no other way out except marriage.
When the class monitor entered the classroom, the students started talking and asking questions. Everyone was very interested in how Wang Jiazhi was doing now.
A girl said, "I guess she must be married. How could she have any relatives? Unless she is married and someone from her husband's family comes to visit."
The squad leader said, "I saw that man came by car, and he seemed quite respectable."
Another girl said, "That's right. If she had rich relatives on her mother's side who could afford cars, she wouldn't have suffered so much. That must be the case... Alas!"
The squad leader hurriedly said, "Don't talk nonsense, she doesn't seem like that kind of person."
Another boy said, "Who wants to be that kind of person? But in order to survive, what can we do?"
At this time, the bell rang and the teacher came in to teach. Hearing everyone talking about something, he asked, "What happened to Wang Jiazhi? Have you heard anything about her?"
Wang Jiazhi had excellent grades and her appearance and temperament were so attractive that it was hard not to notice her. The female teacher liked her very much.
A girl laughed and said, "We say Wang Jiazhi might have married a good husband."
The teacher was very excited and asked, "Really?"
The students realized that the teacher’s understanding was different from theirs, so they all quieted down. The teacher was also very puzzled as to why they were all silent, so he opened the lesson plan and started teaching.
The monitor turned around and glanced at the seats at the back. Other students were already sitting there. He seemed to sense something and felt a deep sense of melancholy.
About a year ago, a novel called "Travel" was published in a magazine.
"The third-class carriage on the Ningbo to Shanghai train was filled with the stench of cigarettes, sweat, and foot odor. Although it was only May, it was already very hot in the south. It was unbearable to stay in such a stuffy and smelly space, especially now that it was late at night, when the mosquitoes were even more rampant. In addition to snoring, grinding teeth, and talking in sleep, the carriage was also filled with the buzzing of mosquitoes.
Bai Lan scratched her legs, which were covered in mosquito bites. The scratches were raw, and the sweat that broke out sent waves of pain through her wounds. She was exhausted, but couldn't sleep. The carriage was too hot, and her sweat dried, leaving her skin itchy and raw, and the mosquito bites were painful. The aisles and the ground were filled with luggage—boxes, chicken coops, and baskets. She couldn't even stretch her legs, and she was confined to the cramped seat. In this lowest-class carriage filled with the poor, she had to sit with the grace and elegance of a lady from a noble family.
Bai Lan thought it would be nice to buy a window seat so she could lean back for a while. Sitting in the aisle seat was really hard. She was so exhausted that she finally fell asleep. But it was hard to fall asleep in such an environment. After a while, the train jolted and she woke up.
She opened her eyes and was surprised to find herself leaning on the shoulder of the man next to her.
She got busy and said awkwardly: "I'm so sorry."
"It's nothing, don't mind it." He smiled.
Only then did she turn her head and see the man clearly. His face was pale and thin, his lips were very thin, and his eyes shone with a light like glass. At this time, the train rumbled past a place, and a beam of light was cast into the dark night outside. The glass light in his eyes turned into the light of the white moon in the sky.
…
She left him her address, but he didn't write for three months. Although the house was already quite simple, the rent was still too much for her. She hadn't moved, hoping for news. Another month passed, and she figured he wouldn't write again. It was just a chance encounter, so why had she taken it so seriously? He'd probably already forgotten her. They'd just met briefly on the train of life, that was all.
At this time, she laughed at herself for being so stupid. She actually thought she could wait for something, and made her already tight life even more difficult.
She rented a cheaper house in a more secluded area. She didn't have much stuff, just a set of bedding and a suitcase. To save on transportation, she planned to move there herself.
One day, at dawn, she descended the stairs, her bedding in one hand and her suitcase in the other, walking down the lonely, desolate road. A train passed by on the tracks not far away, its lights catching her eyes. Then the train rumbled into the distance, and everything returned to the dimness of early morning. She stood there for a moment, making sure the rumbling had ceased, then continued walking with her luggage.
In this bleak and hopeless life, she also hopes that there will be a ray of light to save her from the sea of suffering."
Later, someone went to Wang Jiazhi's aunt's house. Seeing the appearance of the visitor, her aunt didn't dare to offend. Wang Jiazhi didn't have much luggage, so she took all the suitcases away. But she did get her father's address in the UK.
Wang Jiazhi's father received a letter in London from China. The letter said that Wang Jiazhi and her mother's photos had been taken abroad with them, and asked if they could send some back to her. A large sum of money was also enclosed.
Wang Jiazhi's father was surprised why Wang Jiazhi didn't write the letter herself. But with such a large sum of money, and the envelope used was government-issued, and although the letter was polite, the wording and notes suggested she wasn't an ordinary person.
Soon, Lao Yi received a package from overseas. He concluded that all the photos of Wang Jiazhi and her mother were there, since even her parents' wedding photos had been sent.
He thought her father probably had no feelings for her and her mother, so he left no trace or memory.
Wang Jiazhi was right. If they hadn't forgotten about the photo album after they left and kept it at the bottom of the box, they would have probably thrown away all her photos. Because they felt guilty and wanted to erase all traces of her.
Long after her death, he came across an article in an old magazine. She hadn't written since they were together, and he hadn't read anything she'd written. But it felt familiar to him, the way she phrased it echoed her usual speech. He asked someone to inquire about her at the newspaper, and the editor-in-chief said he admired her talent. He sent her the manuscript fee and also wrote to ask her to write again, but there was no response. The manuscript she had submitted was still there, the address on the envelope was the school address, and the name was indeed "Wang Jiazhi."
Late that night, he returned to his office and found a very old copy of "Ming Poetry Chronicle" on his desk. He opened it and found it filled with annotations, all in her handwriting, the writing varying in depth. Inside was her student ID card, very new, having not been issued before she started her studies. It read "Wang Jiazhi, Class 3, Chinese Department," and her student number was 090309. The school seal was stamped on the photo.
When Wang Jiazhi went to take her student ID photo, she was still wearing the navy blue robe. The photographer said to her, "Smile a little."
She thought she was smiling, and then raised the corners of her mouth.
The other side was still saying: "Smile. Why don't you smile?"
"Um?"
She raised the corners of her mouth in surprise.
The other side continued: "Little girl, why don't you smile? Smile a little."
"ah?!"
Wang Jiazhi felt that she had tried so hard to lift the corners of her mouth to her ears. After the photo was developed, she understood why the man had asked her to smile several times. She thought she had smiled very clearly, but in fact, it was just a slight smile in the photo.
Since when did she stop being able to smile? She was very sad. Looking at the photo, she looked like a ghost, which made her even sadder.
He saw the photo. She was thin and haggard, without any spirit. Her eyes were sad and empty. The corners of her mouth were trying hard to lift a forced smile, but that smile was sadder than crying, a kind of despair and grief. It was the last photo of her in this world.
Wang Jiazhi submitted her article several times, but none of them were successful. She then switched to a new magazine. A few days after submitting it, Kuang Yumin came to see her.
The previous series of failures made her have no hope for that submission.
The article was published a week after her death. She never saw the letter.
He opened the letter, which contained the manuscript fee and a letter from the editor, praising her talent highly and suggesting that he would like to continue to commission articles from her.
After getting the stack of photos, he suddenly remembered that 12 years ago, a girl in red clothes asked him to pick a kapok flower for her.
One day, when he was returning from the government office, the bodyguards and the driver in the car noticed that his left hand was wrapped in gauze, but no one dared to ask. After a while, he raised his hand to look at it, then put it down nonchalantly.
Old Wu was truly a jerk. Just a few simple pinches and he screamed in pain like a pig being butchered. He pinched himself a few times to see if it hurt as much. Sure enough, it didn't hurt that much. Old Wu, that useless guy, couldn't even handle this little bit of pain.
Later, Wang Jiazhi's father wrote another letter, which was extremely humble and kind. Perhaps he did not receive a reply, and he did not write to her for a long time.
After Wang Jiazhi left her aunt's house, her father never wrote to her or sent her any money until Lao Yi wrote to her. Her aunt also never wrote to her to tell her that her daughter had left alone, as if this person had never existed.
Two years later, before he was about to go to prison, another letter arrived from England.
It begins with: My daughter Jiazhi, it’s nice to see you in person.
She wrote that she hadn't seen him for years and missed him terribly, saying she often thought of her and her mother. As expected, she finally asked for money. The letter was incredibly long, describing several failed investments that had left her deeply in debt, her stepmother having divorced her and taken the children and the family's last valuables. Her younger brother, still unable to support himself, needed support from the family, and their father, now desperate, begged her to help out of the deep affection they shared. Finally, she specified the amount she needed: at least $12,000 to cover the immediate need.
He smiled inwardly, "It's so accurate, to the nearest two thousand yuan."
He recalled a documentary he had seen about foxes. It showed how foxes, when they reach a certain age, must leave their parents to fend for themselves. A pair of fox daughters, already well past the age of independence, refused to leave home. The fox father didn't drive his daughters away, but instead found food every day to support his wife and daughters.
After he finished reading the letter, his grip loosened and the letter slipped to the ground.
He thought to himself, "How can there be such a father in the world?"
Wang Jiazhi's classmates could all guess that for a girl like her with no money and no education who suddenly became rich, what other way out could she have except to take that path and become a plaything of the rich.
As a father, couldn't he have imagined that he would just accept the money from his daughter's prostitution so easily, and even try to curry favor with her to get more money?
If he had taken her with him, she wouldn't have been bullied and insulted by those bastards, wouldn't have endured such terrible poverty and loneliness, wouldn't have met him later, and wouldn't have died.
She had already carved out a path. If Kuang Yumin's minions hadn't come looking for her, she only needed to wait two more months and she would have seen her articles published and received invitations from editors. She would have her own career and her own achievements. She wouldn't have felt so inferior, so unworthy, and so utterly useless, feeling that her existence had no other meaning except to be exploited and abused by those minions.
In the end, she had nothing. Those bastards had defiled her, and when she followed him, he defiled her again. After all, she had never met a good person in her life. No matter how hard she tried, she was still destroyed by this group of accomplices.
He did not send any more money to England. He had sent so much money in the beginning because he felt that the photos were worth far more than the money.
He wrote back to her father. He wrote that Wang Jiazhi was doing well now, and that this sum of money was nothing to her. Even animals wouldn't abandon their own flesh and blood, but he, as a father, had done something worse than an animal, and now shamelessly demanded money. He was unworthy of being a father. There was no money. This bastard, worse than an animal, deserved eternal damnation; this was his retribution.
But after a while, the letters continued to arrive. Wang Jiazhi's father and brother did not see any indignation in the letters. They only saw that Wang Jiazhi was rich and the money they asked for was a piece of cake for her.
Because there were no more letters, Wang Jiazhi's father thought about returning to Shanghai, because he was really desperate. If Wang Jiazhi refused to give him money, he could sue her for not supporting her parents.
Fortunately, he really didn't have the money to travel at that time and couldn't come. If he really came back, he would have gone to the address on the letter and found out where it was and who wrote to him. He would have been scared to death.
He asked someone to bury those photos for her, thinking that she wished her mother was with her.
Many years later, someone went to see the house and saw a large photo hanging on the wall of a room with a fireplace. The girl in the photo was very young, no more than 20 years old. She had long hair and a beautiful face, but her expression was sad and mysterious.
People asked, "Who is this?"
The seller said, "I don't know. It's been in this house for many years. It must have belonged to its previous owner."
"That's so young."
When he was looking for a house in this life, he saw this one and felt that this was where he should live. Then he also thought that her photo should be hung in that place in the house.
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