The moonlight is silent
Sitting in the online car-hailing service for home, Chen Xiyu leaned against the window, looking out at the dazzling yet cold city nightscape. What lingered in her mind was Tan Zhao's lonely and desolate figure, Wang's father's gentle hand as he stroked Wang Cheng's head, the words "Mom will be worried" spoken only to Wang Cheng, and the undercurrents that might have been hidden beneath Tan Zhao's calm tone when he replied "With my mom"...
Why is his younger brother affectionately called "Chengcheng," while he's always referred to by his given name, "Tan Zhao"? Why does his younger brother receive his father's unabashed love, while he only receives a polite "stay safe"? What does that so-called "home," Keio's "home," mean to him?
A strong feeling of heartache, mixed with an urge to get closer and dispel the gloom, grew wildly in her heart.
She recalled a birthday when she was very young. Her parents took her to an amusement park. Her mother, though clumsy, carefully braided her hair and dressed her in her favorite princess dress. They laughed heartily on the carousel and took photos in front of the castle. When she returned home that night, her mother brought her warm milk, and her father sat at the head of her bed, looking through the smiling faces captured in the camera with her.
Dad pointed at the photo of her grinning from ear to ear, and said in a voice as gentle as moonlight, "Xiaoyu, look, if happiness in this world can be divided into 100 points, then our Xiaoyu will definitely be firmly in the happiest part."
A little girl in pink pajamas, clutching the camera strap, tilted her head back, her long, straight eyelashes fluttering as she asked curiously, "What about the remaining ninety-nine points? Daddy, Mommy, and Mianmian, Xiaohu, Ayan...will they also be in that hundred points?"
Mom put the milk on the bedside table, leaned over and touched her delicate face, her eyes moistened: "Why do you ask that, Xiaoyu?"
Little Chen Xiyu blinked her clear eyes and spoke in a childish voice, yet with a strange certainty: "Because I don't want to be the only one who is happy and blessed. If everyone around me is unhappy and unhappy, and I'm the only one living in a fairy tale, then... I won't be truly happy either. Happiness is more when it's shared, right?"
Mother Linzhi was stunned at the time, and then looked at father Chen Zhuo in disbelief. Tears welled up in her eyes and her voice choked with sobs: "Azhuo...our daughter..." Father's eyes also turned red. He opened his arms and hugged mother tightly. Then he leaned over and hugged the little girl tightly. His voice was hoarse but full of relief: "Good child...our good child..."
At the time, Chen Xiyu didn't fully understand why her parents were so emotional. It wasn't until now, watching the blur of light and shadows rapidly receding outside the car window and feeling the intense heartache for Tan Zhao, that she seemed to grasp the deeper meaning behind her parents' tears.
Dad later wiped away his tears, stroked her hair, and spoke earnestly, "Mom and Dad are so relieved that our baby is a grateful and empathetic child. Sincerity is the most precious bridge to the hearts of others. Dad wants to tell you that a person's happiness is often related to health, family, friendships, studies, and career. It's 30% determined by fate, and 70% by hard work and opportunity. And on the road to success, having mentors and helpful friends to help you can make the journey smoother. These people might be lovers or close friends. So Dad is incredibly fortunate that our Xiaoyu, while experiencing her own happiness, also has the power to illuminate and warm others, like a warm little sun. When you truly wish well for those around you and spread that kindness through your actions, it will be easier for those you cherish to feel their own happiness."
My mother gently added, "If you meet someone who makes you feel distressed, it might be because they're going through a difficult time. Follow your heart and try to be nicer to them in the way you see fit. Often, a small act of kindness, like a candlelight in the darkness, can bring unexpected warmth and strength to someone who's lost. This strength may be greater than you imagine."
The words of her parents, like a lighthouse engraved in her heart, guided Chen Xiyu from "Class Monitor Chen" to "Ms. Chen" trusted by her classmates.
At this moment, the pain she felt for Tan Zhao was so clear and so intense. The lonely figure smoking alone in the corner was like a thorn in her heart.
She could almost imagine him as an outsider in that "home," watching his father, stepmother, and younger brother enjoying themselves, while he himself, perhaps even his name, seemed out of place. That sense of alienation, that pain of being ignored, was far more biting than the icy winter wind.
"Driver, please drive faster." Chen Xiyu said softly, turning off the phone screen. But a voice in her heart sounded very firmly:
"We must be nicer to Tan Zhao."
"Let him know that he is not alone. He deserves to be in that 100% happiness."
Tan Zhao pressed the burnt-out cigarette butt against the cold wall, the last spark struggling to die. The relentless roar of traffic and the faint laughter of distant voices reminded him it was time to "go home."
Home?
He pulled the corners of his mouth together, a cold arc forming. That word had been completely shattered in his mind back in his second year of junior high, amidst his parents' hysterical arguments and the piercing sound of things being smashed.
"Divorce!" Mother Tan Li's voice was sharp and piercing, accompanied by the crisp sound of broken porcelain.
"Divorce if you want! The child is yours!" Father Wang Zhiwen's roar followed closely.
"Why should it belong to me? Tan Zhao originally had your last name! What do you mean, Wang Zhiwen? In my life, Tan Li, I will never allow anything that can prove that failed marriage to remain!"
"That's enough! Tan Zhao is almost out of school! Do you want your child to come back and see this horrible state?"
"I'll have my secretary send you the agreement! I don't want to stay in this house for even a minute longer!"
That day, because the driver forgot to pick him up, little Tanzhao took a taxi home early for the first time in his life. He clutched his newly-delivered report card, emblazoned with a bright red "First Place," tightly in his hand, eager to surprise his parents. Instead, he was greeted by a cold, devastating conversation, emanating from the crack of the door. He clutched the sweat-soaked report card tightly, as if clutching his shattered heart, tears streaming silently. He quietly exited, closing the door behind him as if he had never been back. Then, he took a taxi back to school alone, staying in the empty classroom until dark. That way, his parents wouldn't know he'd returned early, nor would they hear the heartbreaking words that deemed him a "burden" and a "proof of failure."
Later, it was that question that seemed to give him the right to choose, but in fact pushed him into the abyss: "Xiao Zhao, Mom and Dad are going to separate. Do you want to be with Dad or Mom?"
Little Tan Zhao hung his head, his long eyelashes trembling, hiding the fear and helplessness in his eyes. Timidly, with a last glimmer of hope, he looked first at his mother. His mother, Tan Li, turned away, her delicate makeup unable to mask the weariness and indifference in her eyes. He then looked at his father, Wang Zhiwen. Finally, a voice as thin as a mosquito uttered from his throat: "...Dad."
Wang Zhiwen seemed relieved and immediately took his hand: "Okay, Dad will take care of you from now on." He led him to his father's room. The moment he turned around, Tan Zhao couldn't help but look back at his mother.
Tan Li stood there, her eyes red and lips tightly pursed. The look she gave him was complex and indecipherable, a mixture of pain and struggle, but ultimately, a sense of resolute distance. Then, the crisp sound of high heels on the floor and the creaking of the suitcase's wheels faded further and further away until it vanished.
If my existence is just a shameful mark of your failed marriage, then I would rather leave your sight.
His father, Wang Zhiwen, had a limited love for him, but after learning of his first love's divorce, it quickly evaporated like sand through his fingers. Without hesitation, he rushed to Qingying to rebuild his family. That home included a gentle new wife and a lively and adorable stepson, Wang Cheng.
Tan Zhao, on the other hand, became the "son of the ex-wife," a man with a different surname, a blood relationship, and a reminder of past failures. The already thin love they had for each other faded to the point of being almost invisible amidst the daily contrast and warmth of their new family.
Tan Zhao woke from another dream like this. Cold sweat soaked his forehead. He sat up. The room was pitch black and silent. Only the cold moonlight filtered through the window, casting pale spots on the floor, like a silent knife, slicing through the silence of the night.
He sat quietly, gazing at the lonely, cold moon outside the window for a long, long time. The thin, silent silhouette of the young man was reflected on the window glass, blending into the boundless night.
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