Chapter 45 Abebe: "Brother, you're like my Abebe."...
It was already past midnight when I got home from the hospital.
Lan Jia had arranged everything for Xu Xinwen and promised to come see her again after get off work the next day.
Having been there for her through thick and thin, Lan Jia inexplicably felt a sense of responsibility and became especially attentive to the child. While still on the road, she called home and asked someone to buy some maternity and baby supplies so she could take them over the next day.
Exhausted from the day, she was already sleepy, her eyelids drooping in the dimly lit carriage. The windows were closed, creating an eerie silence. Lan Jia half-closed her eyes, letting the flickering light dance across her face. She could hear her own slow, muffled heartbeat, like a pebble falling into a deep pool, slowly sinking.
"Young Miss." A voice that appeared out of nowhere startled her awake.
Lan Jia touched her neck and realized that Zuo Tai had called her several times. Afraid of startling her, and also afraid of not being able to wake her, he deliberately lowered his voice to a very low level, with a rough, gritty quality.
She was still dazed when they got home. Usually, she wouldn't need to wake up; someone would carry her back to the bedroom, tidying her coat and shoes. She could simply nestle in his arms, inhaling his comforting scent, and drift off to sleep like an innocent baby.
Lan Jia dragged her tired body out of the car and subconsciously looked towards the entrance, only to find it empty. She felt a sense of loss.
She sighed and walked inside.
At this moment, Aunt Ming came out to greet us, yawning with watery eyes.
"Aren't you asleep yet?" Lan Jia asked.
"I've been waiting for you to come back." Aunt Ming smiled.
She found a pair of light pink slippers, half-squatted down, and was about to take off her shoes.
"I can do it myself."
"Don't move." Aunt Ming quickly pressed down on her calf, and then carefully looked at the gauze on her knee to make sure there was no bleeding before saying, "The wound needs to be well cared for. If you still like to jump around like when you were a child, I don't know when it will heal."
Although it was a scolding tone, at this moment it was like a hot iron, smoothing out all the wrinkles on her body.
Lan Jia pouted smugly, "I'm much more mature than before."
“Yes, yes, yes,” she smiled with particular affection, “You’ve grown up, become independent, and even have a job. Our Lan Jia is amazing.”
"It's not a particularly impressive job..." she said sullenly, "and I don't have any real independence."
She can only be truly happy when she can live a fulfilling life entirely on her own.
"The important thing is that you have this intention! Take Anfeng Road for example, I know the other families there too. I've overheard the servants chatting, and all the young masters and misses your age are troublesome. Take the young master of the Lin family, for instance, I heard he got into an accident while racing and has fled abroad and hasn't dared to come back since..."
Lan Jia couldn't help but laugh. She knew that no matter how bad she was, Aunt Ming would always have a soft spot for her.
Because they are family.
Aunt Ming took off her shoes; they were light green suede flats with one side open, and her feet didn't feel tired even after walking all day.
From childhood to adulthood, whenever she was on the Li River, her clothes were always beautiful, always to her liking, and always the latest styles.
Lan Jia now understands that all the comforts she once took for granted were the result of her family's love, expressed in countless small ways.
After changing my shoes, I dragged myself to the bedroom, washed up, and finally collapsed onto the bed with a sigh of relief.
The bed sheets were newly changed by Aunt Ming; they were a light pink silk, smooth and cool to the touch. Lan Jia snuggled happily against the sheets, taking out her phone to check her pre-sleep messages.
It was still Qiao Zimu's endless rambling, talking about work, trivial matters of life, and finally he gave a special hint that she shouldn't forget his birthday next month.
He was three months younger than her and had finally turned twenty. Incidentally, he shared the same birthday as the Qiao family patriarch, which made him especially favored among the younger generation.
I heard that this event will be held together at the ancestral home, and the Yi family will also be attending.
Lan Jia replied to each message one by one. Scrolling down, she saw several more unread messages from Jing Wei, each filled with an undeniable sense of dejection.
She knew roughly about her family situation, and it seemed she was tired of staying there and wanted to find a job.
Lan Jia considered the situation. The costume department had just lost Xiao Zhang, and now Xinwen needed to recuperate for a while, so they were short-staffed. Jingwei was also studying costume design and had excellent grades. Why not ask her if she'd be willing to give it a try?
After consulting her, she gave her the producer's contact information. In the small film crew, having spent so much time together, Lan Jia became very familiar with the staff.
The messages were all empty. She switched screens and carefully checked the missed calls, but there was still no response.
He hadn't contacted her all day, which was quite unusual.
What could possibly keep him so busy? So busy that he doesn't even have time to reply?
She inexplicably got angry and shoved her phone under her pillow.
Meng Cenjun was still awake. Standing in front of a mother-of-pearl inlaid five-drawer chest, she took off her watch and cufflinks, which she then neatly arranged on a tray, her mind preoccupied.
He has his own room at the Yi House, but because of Lan Jia, he has only stayed there a handful of times over the years, and it is difficult for him to adapt to it all at once.
I talked with the old lady at Lianxuan until very late. She told me a lot about Lan Jia's mother.
In fact, he was always vague about the grudges and entanglements of the previous generation, or perhaps he never had the chance to know. Before he was five years old, he lived with his parents in Canada. Later, he was brought back to the Meng family for three years, but his father passed away unexpectedly. Not two years later, his mother passed away from illness. After that, he moved to the Yi family and has been living there ever since.
The three children of the Meng family were all sent to various countries to expand their territories. Apart from returning to the Meng family home for the New Year, they could hardly see each other throughout the year. He was young at the time, but he could vaguely sense that the relationship between the three was very bad. When his father and Meng Shiyuan were at odds, his third aunt, Meng Xia, would always just watch the show with a cold eye.
Meng Shiyuan had an eccentric personality and would often argue with the old man, showing no regard for brotherly affection. Yet, he held considerable influence in the Meng family, and even if a family banquet turned into a chaotic mess, no one dared to say a bad word about him.
His mother never allowed him to get close to him, and even when Meng Shiyuan was around, she always avoided him, as if she were afraid of him. He never liked this uncle, and Meng Shiyuan never liked him either.
In his memory, the old man also had a bad temper, so he never understood why he was so tolerant of Meng Shiyuan. Later, he heard his third aunt scold him for being crazy, and the whispers of the servants in the house gradually spread, discussing that Meng Shiyuan had a serious mental illness or a mental disorder.
After listening to Mrs. Yi's story, Meng Cenjun became even more certain that he was a madman.
Back then, the Meng and Yi families were on good terms, and Meng Shiyuan and Yi Hanzhen grew up together. It was perfectly normal for childhood sweethearts to develop feelings for each other. But it was from that time that Meng Shiyuan gradually began to show signs of something amiss and started to act out.
During their relationship, he was excessively obsessive towards Yi Hanzhen. If any outsiders approached, he would resort to threats and intimidation, determined to completely shut her out of the world. They argued about this countless times. Exhausted, Yi Hanzhen proposed breaking up, but Meng Shiyuan refused, continuing his relentless pursuit and constant harassment. Later, Yi Hanzhen retreated to her old family home. According to the old lady's recollection, during that time, Meng Shiyuan waited for her every day, begging for forgiveness. He even stayed up all night in a sudden downpour, developing a high fever and falling into a coma. Yi Hanzhen ultimately softened, unaware that his repentance was only superficial; secretly, he became even more abusive. Over the years, they broke up and reconciled several times, finally leaving her heartbroken and ending this unhealthy relationship.
Later, she met Lan Jia's father, and they discussed marriage. Meng Shiyuan found out and repeatedly came to reconcile. Yi Hanzhen, however, threatened to sever ties and refused outright. Just when everyone thought he would give up, before the wedding, Meng Shiyuan drove alone to the edge of a cliff and threatened to kill himself to prevent the two from getting together.
At this point, Old Mrs. Yi stopped talking, saying she was sleepy and asked him to come to the garden tomorrow.
After hearing so much, Meng Cenjun had a general idea of what to do. It seemed that no matter what a possessive madman did, it wouldn't be surprising.
If the subsequent car accident was indeed orchestrated by him, it would be understandable that Old Madam Yi would hate the Meng family. But Meng Cenjun thought that he was no longer a member of the Meng family, and he didn't know how to prove to her that, now and in the future, he had absolutely no connection with the Meng family.
Even if blood ties are a sin, he would rather sacrifice everything to atone for his sins than destroy the family he had worked so hard to build.
Lan Jia, his Lan Jia...
Meng Cenjun closed her eyes in pain.
As if by telepathy, he heard his phone ring.
Lan Jia struggled for a long time, but finally couldn't resist calling him. Her temper flared, and she didn't care if it bothered him or if it was late at night; she just wanted to be stubborn with him.
Lan Jia tried calling twice, but no one answered. She refused to believe that he had simply vanished, so she kept calling with a stern face. To her surprise, the call was answered after about ten seconds.
"Hello." A deep voice came from the receiver.
Lan Jia suddenly sat up.
I was just trying it out, but I was caught off guard when he actually showed up.
Her throat tightened, but she was still angry. She then gritted her teeth and accused Meng Cenjun!
Why don't you answer the phone? Why don't you reply to messages?
"Lan Jia." The voice on the other end was low.
"You...do you realize that if you do this, I'll really think something has happened to you?"
"Lan Jia..." he still called her name, softly, with a sense of longing, and also like saying goodbye.
She felt a sudden, inexplicable panic, and finally realized something was wrong.
"Brother, what's wrong?"
"It's nothing, I just wanted to call you."
He's never like this. He must be hiding something from her again.
Lan Jia was both angry and a little aggrieved. "Where are you now?" She really didn't believe he had really gone on a business trip.
"At my place of residence." His words were vague.
"Be more specific!"
Meng Cenjun walked forward, stood in front of the window, and pushed open one of the interlocking floral window panels.
"The courtyard where I live is paved with Lu Mu Imperial Kiln gold bricks, and there are many bamboos and banana trees planted there. There is also a century-old red camellia tree in the center of the courtyard."
What do you mean? She doesn't need to know these things.
“Lanjia, I’m right here.” He repeated it emphatically.
New green banana leaves grow by the window, swaying like ghostly shadows in the darkness. The window frame is made of nanmu wood, its deep color resembling that of an old coffin. Looking in from the outside, the four extremely wide black borders resemble a picture frame, a black and white photograph, as if trying to confine a person inside.
He is here, trapped here.
Meng Cenjun couldn't say it outright, and unfortunately, Lan Jia didn't understand it either.
She panicked, almost crying, "Brother, when are you coming back?"
"Now is not the time."
"How many more days? Bro, you're not planning on not coming home, are you?"
He paused on the other end of the line, then asked, "Lan Jia, do you want me to come back?"
"I want you back..." she said anxiously, her eyes bubbling with lemon juice.
Meng Cenjun composed herself and smiled, "Okay, then I'll listen to you."
After a while, Lan Jia finally realized what was going on and tentatively asked, "Brother, are you having some trouble?"
"No matter what it is, you can tell me, and I will help you figure out a solution."
“I will handle it,” he said.
"I don't want you to bear this alone!"
"Then I have a request of you," Meng Cenjun said softly. "No matter what happens next, you have to trust me, okay?"
What do you want me to believe in?
She felt down, always thinking that this was just a pretext before parting, like in the movie amusement park, where adults would use buying ice cream as an excuse to abandon their children, and the children would just wait foolishly in the crowd until sunset, but no one would come back.
"Believe me, everything I do is for our future."
"Our...future?"
Lan Jia slowly opened her eyes, which shone with a strange light.
Actually, he's also planning for their future? They will have a future too?
"Is this your belated answer?" He had avoided answering the questions she asked him that day.
Meng Cenjun did not deny it.
When he could no longer see her, he gradually understood what he wanted most.
No matter what the circumstances, they should never be apart.
As for the rest, let him figure it out as he goes.
Lan Jia knew he had tacitly agreed, and suddenly became happy, like a light little bird spreading its wings and falling into the soft pink ocean.
"You have to bring me a gift when you come back," she commanded in a haughty tone.
"Didn't you just receive a gift?" he smiled.
"I don't care! This is what you should make up for. There are so many cute and beautiful things in this world, I want them all, I want to receive gifts for the rest of my life!"
She always felt that the closest relationship in the world was that she could always ask that person for things without restraint. Whether it was pocket money, gifts, hugs, or any little odds and ends.
Holding the phone, Meng Cenjun listened to her coquettish ramblings and felt a sudden pang of tenderness. His nerves, which had been taut for 24 hours, suddenly relaxed, and a sweet comfort flowed out like the molten cheese filling of a cake. He seemed to finally understand why Lan Jia had such a sweet tooth, and for the first time, he deeply realized that the self-worth he had been pursuing actually stemmed from being needed by her.
He liked this feeling. His daily goal was to make money, more money than he could ever spend, so he could buy Lan Jia an endless stream of gifts. He never tired of it.
If one day Lan Jia stopped liking money and no longer needed him, he would feel completely drained and wouldn't know what to do. Ten years had passed, and he had long since grown accustomed to living for her.
Meng Cenjun thought that in this life and the next, he would never care about or love someone as much as he does now.
Hearing his promise, Lan Jia was relieved, knowing that he always kept his word, and happily rolled around in bed.
"Don't you have to work tomorrow? Aren't you going to sleep?"
He heard the rustling sound of bed sheets rubbing together through the receiver, and after recognizing it, he spoke up irritably.
Lan Jia, like a well-soothed cat, accepted the minor scolding with a smile.
"I can't sleep now if we talk too much. You have to stay with me." The phone was getting a little hot to the touch, but she still couldn't bear to hang up.
"Now turn off the light, close your eyes, and cover yourself with the blanket."
Hearing his instructions, she put the phone down next to her pillow and obediently did as he said.
The soft blanket was pulled up to her chest, and Lan Jia happily squinted her eyes. "Brother, say something."
"say something?"
"I want to hear the story you told me when I was little, the story of the octopus and the princess of the small country."
She always liked octopuses, partly because of this story, but unfortunately she never heard the ending.
Meng Cenjun began to speak very slowly.
"I want to hear the French version," Lan Jia said, making her request according to her own taste, like a regular customer.
Meng Cenjun then spoke French in response to her.
A gentle, magnetic voice came from beside her ear, and Lan Jia smiled contentedly.
In the pitch-black night, all was quiet, and she was enveloped in happiness by that voice.
Halfway through, I got sleepy and said with droopy eyelids, "I think I'm not going to hear the ending again, bro, can you just tell me already?"
Meng Cenjun remained silent.
There is actually no ending.
Lan Jia never knew that this was just a story he had made up on the spot when he was forced to do it back then. He also never expected that this incomplete story would have such a hypnotic effect.
After waiting for a long time without getting an answer, Lan Jia simply stopped listening. She was about to fall asleep and was in a particularly good-natured mood.
"Brother, don't hang up the phone secretly," she reminded him, still worried.
No, it won't.
You must come back soon.
"Um."
Lan Jia yawned, her voice soft: "Actually, I missed you a lot, all day long."
Meng Cenjun was stunned for a moment, her heart felt like it was exploding with fireworks.
I breathed heavily, then inhaled, and heard her mumble something in a daze, like gentle spring water flowing into my ears.
All that could be heard through the receiver was her soft breathing.
The powerful beating of his chest resonated with hers.
I don't know how much time passed before that abnormal heartbeat gradually calmed down.
Just now, she said:
"Brother, you look just like my Abebe."
Meng Cenjun lowered her eyes and smiled slowly.
He got up very early the next day, when the daylight was exceptionally bright.
It was still that same window, with banana leaves swaying and bamboo shadows emerald green—everything was fresh and lovely.
I had made an appointment with Grandma Yi beforehand, and after dinner I would head to the garden.
The gardener has already brought over a dozen hydrangeas, all in excellent condition, blooming in clusters and vibrant colors.
Grandma Yi, being attended by Aunt Xiu, was sitting in a nearby pavilion enjoying the cool air. When she saw him, she smiled and said, "I'm entrusting this to you, Xiao Cen."
Although she didn't know her intentions, Meng Cenjun still did her best to be a gardener.
The flowerpots are fifty-foot diameter, and they will be planted in the ground on both sides of the garden path. It will take digging about ten deep pits, each sixty-foot diameter, which is a huge project.
His most frequented places always had ceilings: the company office, meeting rooms, banquet restaurants, business dinner halls, and his car on his way home. Work and Lan Jia were the two unchanging points in his life.
He is very busy, but he still makes time to exercise. After turning thirty, he has become more and more health-conscious. Fortunately, he has not been sick over the years, and his medical reports show that his physical functions are maintained at the level of a twenty-year-old.
Aside from using those cold machines in the gym, he seems to have rarely done purely physical labor, without having to use his brain or look at dense texts and data. He only needs to bend over, let the sun warm his back, and let the sweat fall into the soft soil.
Meng Cenjun felt a long-lost sense of exhilarating comfort.
In the octagonal pavilion not far away, Old Mrs. Yi watched him work.
Composting, landfilling, mounding soil, pruning—the people are smart and work efficiently and cleanly, working under the scorching sun without showing any impatience.
Actually, she had never had any complaints about Meng Cenjun; in fact, she was quite satisfied with him. But whenever she saw him, she was always reminded of Meng Shiyuan, someone she had watched grow up since childhood, who would have thought he would become such a madman.
The Meng family, the Meng family bloodline, the Meng family's negative traits, an unbreakable bond of blood.
She clutched the photo from yesterday, comparing it with a solemn expression. The eyebrows, facial contours, and figure always vaguely revealed the shadow of another person.
A terrifying hypothesis began to form in my mind, like a time bomb, ready to explode at any moment.
How could she possibly put Lanca in unknown danger?
Author's note: We still don't know how much money the brother earned for his sister. [Milk tea emoji]
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