Chapter 59 Destiny
Destiny: A mysterious word that always evokes a lot of emotion.
"The Seventh Day" says that the departure of loved ones is not a rainstorm, but a long dampness in this life.
But the death of his younger brother meant something different to the young Fu Guanshan.
That little, drowned life was like a bomb, blew the family apart.
When the father came home from the police station and saw his eldest son on the steps, his eyes were filled with uncontrollable sorrow and anger: "I asked you to bring your brother back, no wonder it turned out like this."
His whole body was cold and numb, and it took him a while to understand the hatred contained in these words. He lowered his head and buried his cheek in his shaking hands.
Yes, it's his fault.
If he hadn't played in the arcade for so long, if he had brought his brother home properly, if he hadn't made that lying phone call to his mother...none of this would have happened.
It's all his fault.
Fu Lanying's figure appeared swaying. After identifying the body, she was like a wandering ghost, with a dazed look and a frighteningly pale face.
"Why are you so angry at the child?" Her voice was faint and weak. "The child is also very uncomfortable."
"Yes!" Zhong Yuan turned his gaze to his wife, "In the final analysis, it's all your fault! You knew he was irresponsible and playful, but you asked him to pick up Wen Qi and asked you to take care of the child. And you manage him like this?"
Fu Lanying looked at him, the days of exhaustion, heartache and despair tore a crack in her heart, and the suppressed emotions burst out: "Blame me? In all these years, how many times have you taken care of the child? All you do is busy with your crappy company all day long. You have dreams, don't I? If you could take care of Wenqi, would things be like this today?"
He covered his ears, trying to block out his parents' quarrel. However, it was of no use. The couple, immersed in pain, accused and abused each other in the most vicious tone, and used attacks on each other to release the sadness in their hearts. Their words were like sharp arrows, riddling the family with holes.
Fear spread from the bottom of my heart. This family is going to collapse. Not only will he lose his brother, but he will lose everything.
Soon, the premonition became reality.
My father divorced my mother.
He was awarded to his mother, and his father didn't even raise any objection. He thought his father probably didn't want to see him again.
Her son passed away suddenly, followed by a divorce lawsuit and property division. Fu Lanying had no time to take care of her busy new job, and soon she lost her job.
She was finally crushed by the continuous blows.
For a period of time after she lost her job, she stayed indoors and cut off all contact with the outside world except for three meals a day.
Every time he saw his mother, her eyes were indifferent and dull, and she just responded to his words mechanically, as if her soul had been stripped away.
After discussing with the elders in her hometown, my aunt asked my great aunt to come and take care of them and their son for a while. Fu Lanying’s current condition is too dangerous.
The cousin's aunt cooked for them, talked to Fu Lanying, and most importantly, made sure nothing happened to her.
One night, he walked past the old woman's room and heard her whispering on the phone to her family, her tone full of regret: "Lan Ying used to be so lively, talkative and cheerful, but now she doesn't respond when people don't talk to her. Alas, how could she become like this..."
He stood there silently for a while, then returned to his room, leaned against the door, and sat down on the floor.
It's all his fault.
He killed his younger brother, and his father hated him all his life. Now, he is making his mother so miserable.
He broke this home into pieces, and even if he spent the rest of his life trying to make up for it, he would never be able to restore it to its original state.
He would rather be dead now.
If it was me who fell into the river, at least it wouldn't be anyone's fault.
My younger brother is so smart, he will definitely have a bright future. I have no strengths at all and I only cause mom and dad to quarrel.
He ruined it all.
His footsteps gradually became lighter and he became quieter. All day long, the only sound in the house was the TV - it was turned on by my great aunt. Otherwise it was too quiet, so quiet that it drove people crazy.
"In the coming days, we will see a concentrated outbreak of sunspots. Radio communications may be affected and the climate may also experience abnormal changes. Please pay attention to travel safety..."
He didn't understand what was going on, but no one in their family would go out anyway.
It was gloomy outside the window, as if a storm was coming. He sat on the sofa, hugging his legs, the blue light of the screen flashing on his face.
Suddenly, the phone rang.
The shrill ringing of the phone pierced through the shadows of the furniture. Once, twice, no one answered.
He looked slowly into the kitchen; his aunt seemed busy cooking.
He finally reached out and picked up the microphone.
A grown man's voice came from inside.
Fu Guanshan was so sad at that time that he forgot he had a pen pal. A few weeks ago, he wrote his last letter to this pen pal.
This letter brought unprecedented shock and panic to the child who was younger than him.
The moment Meng Chu saw the letter, his hands began to tremble violently.
He had been communicating with the donor for several years, and although the other party's letters were full of complaints, they had never been as shocking as they were now.
"My brother is dead."
"Died while I was playing the video game."
"Dad said it was my fault."
"My parents are divorced, and my mom is always in a daze. I know she's thinking about my brother."
At the end, there is a short line of words.
"If it was me who died, maybe everyone would be better off than they are now."
This sentence pierced him instantly, and he quickly wrote a reply, advising the other party not to think too much about it. He didn't know how to comfort people, so he went to Meng Jining to learn a lot of words and wrote them down.
But the other party did not reply.
Every afternoon when his wait was in vain deepened the fear in his heart.
His only friend, the only person willing to listen to him brag and confide in him, was so miserable and so dangerous. What if he actually did something to hurt himself? if……
He didn't dare to think any further, he had to do something.
He held the children's monthly magazine in his hand, stared at a story for a long time, stood up suddenly and ran to the office.
The teacher looked at him running over breathlessly and was a little surprised. Meng Chu rarely came to the office to ask questions.
"Teacher, can I..." he said intermittently, "Can I talk to the people from that charity?"
"What?"
"Will she be able to find out," he said, "about my pen pal's information?"
Unfortunately, the donor filled out the registration form very sloppily, leaving a lot of information missing, and private information could not be disclosed to him at will. Meng Chu pleaded: "I want to talk to him directly. He won't reply to my letters."
Finally, the other party gave him a phone number. Landline telephone.
Meng Chu held the number, went home, and ran to Uncle Liu's shop downstairs.
The storm was coming, the sky was gloomy, and there were not many people in the store. Uncle Liu was sitting with his legs crossed, reading a newspaper. Seeing Meng Chu running in, he raised his head and asked, "Is your father in trouble again?"
When Meng Changqing was not free, Meng Chu often did his homework here.
"Uncle," Meng Chu raised the paper in his hand, "Can you do me a favor?"
After hearing his request, Uncle Liu frowned - this was really too bizarre.
"He is my friend, and he is having a bad time now," Meng Chu said, "Uncle, please help me, okay?"
This was the first time he asked an adult for help, and it almost exhausted all his courage in life. Perhaps because he felt sorry for the child who often did his homework alone, Uncle Liu agreed.
He dialed the number, looked at the first line of words on the paper, and said in a serious voice, "Hello? Is this Zhong Wenyue?"
The other party was silent for a moment, then asked in confusion: "Yes, who are you?"
"I am you eighteen years later."
Zhong Wenyue stared at the dial pad of the landline phone and fell silent.
What did the other side say? Who is he like eighteen years later? What is going on?
The other person continued, "I know it's hard for you to believe me. Let me tell you something. You secretly keep two snails in your cupboard, and you only take them out when your friends come to visit."
Zhong Wenyue took a deep breath. He never told the adults about this.
Uncle Liu on the opposite side glanced at Meng Chu, who nodded and pointed to the next paragraph: "Three months ago, you stole five dollars from your mother's wallet to buy game cards; you put a cup with a four-leaf clover on your windowsill, which was... that was raised by your younger brother, and you secretly plucked a leaf from one of them."
He was really shocked this time: "You...you are really me when I grow up? How did you get through on this call?"
"Didn't you watch the news? There's a solar storm over there, and there's a solar storm over here, too. The communication system is in chaos, so for a short period of time, a space-time tunnel will be formed, connecting my phone's frequency band to yours."
He was dazed and didn't quite understand. However, bands, storms, and communications sound very rigorous and powerful. Wow, he actually became a time traveler?
Still, he was surprised. "You...how do you know so much?" he said. "I'm not interested in science at all. What's that? When did you learn it?"
On the other side of the phone, Uncle Liu looked at Meng Chu. There was no such question on the paper. Meng Chu frowned and thought about it, then picked up a pen and wrote a few words.
"Oh," Uncle Liu said, "Although I don't understand, my wife is a scientist and he guided me to talk to you."
"Ah..." The young Fu Guanshan blinked, "I already had a lover at that time."
"Yes," the other party said quickly, "I know you are in pain and sad now, so I called you. Don't do anything stupid. Although this period is very dark, you will be very, very happy in the future."
"Really?" He took a deep breath, "Am I happy eighteen years later?"
"Yes," the other person said, "In eighteen years, you will be a big star. You will act in many, many movies. Many people will like you. Your ads will be everywhere in shopping malls and on TV. People all over the country will know your name."
He was stunned. So, his dream finally came true?
"And," the voice on the other side said, "Mom will get better too. She will find a new job and live a new life."
"Really?" This was too good to be true. He couldn't believe it. "Will she forgive me? Will she talk and laugh with me like before?"
"Of course, she's your mother and she's always loved you."
He clenched the receiver tightly, eager to know more: "Anything else? What happened in the future?"
"A lot. You will make a lot of money, you will have a beautiful house, with the big swimming pool you want; you will have a large group of friends who will stay with you even when you are misunderstood or attacked; you will also meet someone you like, and you will be very happy because he really, really loves you."
Really? Will he really be so happy in the future?
Really, at least, in this world, in a dim little shop thousands of miles away, there is a child who prays for him devoutly and with all his might.
May you have everything I dream of - love for your family, love for your friends, love for your partner, your dreams, your career, I hope they all become reality.
"So, don't be discouraged, don't give up, everything will be fine. Live well, live happily like before, and wait for that day to come, okay?"
After a long while, he said, "Okay."
Many years passed, and miraculously, or as it should be, the predictions made on the phone call came true.
The child who became a big star wore sunglasses and lay lazily in the back seat, repeating the phone call that spanned time and space for the hundredth time - or at least the thousandth time according to Hai Qiu's testimony: "Don't disbelieve it, this kind of thing really exists in the world, so when I was in elementary school, I knew I could be a big star..."
The agent in the front row echoed the sentiment in a mixed tone. His ancestors talked a lot and without logic, and he was often distracted.
"But," the ancestor suddenly sat up, "something is wrong."
"Oh," Hai Qiu asked casually, "What's wrong?"
"Where's my wife?" he said. "I'm almost 30. Didn't we agree that by now I should have a wife who is a scientist and knows about sunspots?"
"Brother, why don't you think about your aunt who is a scientist first?" Hai Qiu said, "You came here specially to visit, but you don't even know where the Microelectronics Building is."
Fu Guanshan snorted. For someone who has fans all over the world, sense of direction is really the least important thing.
He spotted a person walking nearby with his head down and said, "Hi, classmate?"
The other party raised his head as if startled, looked around, and confirmed that he was being called.
Fu Guanshan took off his sunglasses with a skilled movement: "How do I get to the Microelectronics College A235?"
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Well, the main text ends here! Thank you all for your company!
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