Chapter 374 The Orphanage's Lies: The Handsome Flower Boy 74
Wang Xiuying was chopping cabbage in the kitchen, the knife making a loud thud on the cutting board, while her mother kept grumbling beside her.
"We've saved this little bit of meat for entertaining guests on the second day of the Lunar New Year, so let's save it."
Wang Xiuying retorted irritably.
"What kind of guests are we entertaining?"
Who would come to our house now? We'd be lucky if they didn't kick us when we're down.
She was telling the truth. After the Wang family fell from power, all those people who used to fawn over them disappeared.
What's even more infuriating is that someone took the opportunity to report that Wang Xiushan bought those banned books from the black market and that there might be other contraband in his home.
Then two more groups of people came and searched the house, taking away all the slightly valuable items, such as the radio and the watch, claiming they were stolen goods.
There were no helpers in times of need, only those who kicked someone when they were down.
Wang Xiushan's verdict has also been handed down: he was sentenced to two years of re-education through labor for possessing and circulating obscene publications.
The day she heard the news, her mother fainted from crying, and her father remained silent, only becoming more hunched over. However, since her younger brother was someone who was dispensable anyway, she wasn't particularly heartbroken.
It's better to lock him up. At least he'll have food and lodging provided. If he's released, his family will have to support him.
When the New Year's Eve dinner was served, the children were dumbfounded.
A plate of cabbage stew with vermicelli, with a few pieces of fatty meat scattered in it; a plate of stir-fried shredded potatoes; a dish of pickled radishes; and cornbread as the staple food.
The only meat dish was a small plate of fried ribbonfish, which was bought with the last of our oil coupons.
Wang Zixuan looked at the table and pursed her lips.
"Is this all we're eating? I want dumplings! I want meat! Ribs! I want cake!"
Wang Xiuying slammed her chopsticks down.
"Eat, eat, all you ever do is eat!"
Don't you know what's going on at home? We're lucky we even have anything to eat!
When a family is wealthy, harmony and prosperity abound; when a family is poor, the adults' tempers also worsen.
Wang Zixuan burst into tears, while Zhou Zihan sat silently, broke open a cornbread, and added some shredded potatoes.
He recalled that during last year's Spring Festival, his home was filled with chicken, duck, fish, and meat, and people came to pay their respects in an endless stream.
His and his sister's new clothes were bought in Shanghai, and their pockets were stuffed with lucky money.
In just one year, the family underwent tremendous changes.
He asked in a low voice.
"Mom, is Dad still in the hospital?"
Wang Xiuying paused, then remained silent.
The elderly mother took over the conversation.
“He’s in the hospital, where else could he go? He’s already in arrears on his medical bills. If it weren’t for his pitiful state, the hospital would have kicked him out long ago.”
Actually, they hadn't been to the hospital for a long time.
Wang Xiuying had made up her mind to get a divorce, so naturally she didn't want to care about Zhou Weimin anymore.
The mother felt that her son-in-law had become a burden and couldn't wait to sever ties. Only Zhou Zihan would occasionally think of her father lying in the hospital bed, his eyes filled with despair, unable to move.
But he dared not say it; he knew that in this family, his father had become a name that could not be mentioned.
Laughter and firecrackers could be heard from outside the window.
Wang Zhenguo suddenly stood up, walked shakily to the window, and looked at the scattered fireworks exploding outside, tears streaming down his face.
"dad……"
What did Wang Xiuying want to say?
Wang Zhenguo's voice was hoarse.
"Don't call me Dad. I'm not your dad anymore. I'm nothing to you."
He turned and went into the inner room, closing the door behind him.
Wang Xiuying was speechless. Look at the state of the house now, how can everyone still be in the mood to throw tantrums?
What else should I call him if not Dad? Can a father still call her Dad?
In a couple of days, we won't even be able to eat potatoes, radishes, or cabbage.
The room was deathly silent, save for the occasional crackling of coal in the stove and Wang Zixuan's suppressed sobs.
Zhou Zihan slowly chewed the cornbread. It tasted rough and hurt his throat, but he swallowed it all, bite by bite.
This winter is exceptionally cold, the kind of cold that chills you to the bone, the kind where even a heater can't warm you up.
It's snowing again outside the window.
In some places, snow brings warm and vibrant life; in others, it brings cold and despair.
The cold wind in December was like a knife, sweeping through the streets and alleys of Beijing.
In the orthopedic ward on the third floor of the People's Hospital, Zhou Weimin was curled up on the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling for the entire morning.
He heard the nurse's footsteps outside the door, and he instinctively closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep, but this time the footsteps stopped beside his bed.
Unlike before, they didn't just check and leave.
"Comrade Zhou, wake up."
Zhou Weimin had no choice but to open his eyes. Nurse Xiao Zhang stood in front of the bed, holding a folder in her hand, looking troubled.
"Comrade Zhou, you already owe 87.64 yuan in hospital and medical fees."
The accounting department has been urging us several times. Could you perhaps have someone from your family come and submit it?
Zhou Weimin's throat was dry, and when he opened his mouth, his voice was hoarse.
"I'll think of something else. I can't contact my family right now."
Nurse Zhang sighed.
"The hospital has already given us a long grace period."
I know about your situation. Your leg injury is severe, and you have nowhere to go after being discharged from the hospital.
However, hospitals have their own rules; if the outstanding payment exceeds one hundred yuan, medication will be discontinued.
"Besides, your bed is in short supply; there are other patients waiting."
The meaning was clear: pay up or leave.
After Xiao Zhang left, Zhou Weimin struggled to sit up. He hadn't bowed and scraped to someone like this in many years.
My left leg was still in a cast and hanging at the foot of the bed. I couldn't move it at all, and any movement would cause me excruciating pain.
Although he could still move his right leg with difficulty, he couldn't muster any strength in it. He opened the drawer of the bedside table and found it empty, with nothing inside.
He checked his pockets and found only a few crumpled grain coupons, not a single penny.
The Wang family hadn't visited him in a long time; his mother-in-law had last come a week ago, only to throw him two cold steamed buns.
She mentioned that her family was also having a hard time, and Wang Xiuying hasn't shown her face since then.
He knew he had been abandoned by the Wang family.
As for the two children, Zhou Weimin chose not to think about them; the more he thought about it, the more heartbroken he felt.
A little while later, it was dinnertime again, and the family of the patient in the next bed brought over a steaming hot meal. It was Chinese New Year, and there was meat and vegetables. The aroma wafted over.
Zhou Weimin's stomach was growling with hunger. He closed his eyes and forced himself not to think about it, but he felt increasingly desolate.
During the Lunar New Year, he didn't even get to eat a single dumpling, and not a single person came to visit him on New Year's Day.
Late at night, the lights in the ward went out.
Zhou Weimin heard that the other patients in the ward were already asleep and snoring before he slowly sat up, gritted his teeth, and slowly moved off the bed.
The moment my left foot touched the ground, a sharp pain shot through me, and I broke out in a cold sweat, soaking my hospital gown.
He had to stand for a while, holding onto the edge of the bed, until the dizzying sensation subsided, before he could quietly change his clothes.
The clothes were the same ones I wore when I was admitted to the hospital. No one had suggested taking them back to wash them in all these days, and now they were all wrinkled, with dried bloodstains on the cuffs.
He spent almost half an hour just getting dressed.
There was no way around it; every movement aggravated my injuries, and it took me ages to get dressed.
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