Chapter 093 Sensitive Nerves

During the New Year, the elegant lady from Dahe also called to greet Mingyue.

Because her relationship with Dai Yunjiao had grown distant, Gao Yating spent most of her time in her office. Gao Yating wanted Mingyue to return to Dahe early to resume her housekeeping duties. The lady praised Mingyue’s cooking, saying it suited her tastes, and expressed her intention to give Mingyue a raise as recognition for her culinary skills.

Mingyue wasn’t particularly surprised by the lady’s praise, but when she heard about the raise, her joy was such that Minghe thought she’d won a five-million-dollar prize.

Each had their own affairs to attend to; after a brief reunion, it was soon time for another long separation. Only Sitong remained in the countryside, staying with his grandparents, which added to the burden of the elderly Chi Qian and his wife.

In Mingyue’s heart, she cherished a grateful love for her parents, knowing full well the hardships they endured in the countryside.

The somewhat immature Sitong was still unaware of the sorrow of parting from his parents. He tugged at Mingyue’s suitcase, spinning in circles on the open ground, utterly delighted and amused. In no time, his little cheeks were flushed red.

On the road to the bus station, Sitong ran ahead, dragging the suitcase before Mingyue and Situ.

When the bus arrived, it was already packed. Not wanting to miss their journey to Dahe, they squeezed inside like compressed biscuits. Only after boarding did Mingyue and Situ breathe a sigh of relief.

Standing by the roadside, Sitong saw his parents depart, and suddenly, as if waking from a dream, burst into loud, wailing cries.

Witnessing this scene from the bus, Mingyue and Situ couldn’t help but weep as well, gazing back at their parents and son still standing there, their hearts wrung with pain. For the sake of livelihood, they had no choice but to travel far and endure hardship.

Behind the bus, a trail of dust obscured the view of the two elderly figures, their tears mingling with the wind and sand—a bitterness that only those who lived it could understand.

Noon sunlight spilled over the small cottage in the countryside. After sending Mingyue's family off, the two elders led the still innocent child back to the house.

The cottage now stood empty, echoing only the sighs of the old.

Chi Zhaoming’s days were equally hard; even the smallest matters would be infinitely magnified by his losses at gambling.

Each day was a cycle of work, picking up Xiyu, and cooking at home.

In his spare time, there was nothing but endless quarrels and conflicts with Dujuan.

Chi Zhaoming’s life had been wholly changed by his own folly. When his old classmates visited Dahe, he felt no joy when contacted. Ordinarily, after twenty years apart, classmates longed for a chance to meet, but Chi Zhaoming dreaded unfamiliar calls from outside the city. He didn’t want to expose his embarrassing and impoverished circumstances to his peers, nor did he want Dujuan troubled or angered by the expenses of meeting them.

Chi Zhaoming simply ignored everything happening outside, as if every change in the world had nothing to do with him.

Days slipped by one after another. Chi Zhaoming grew depressed, sometimes feeling so hopeless he thought of ending it all. But now, he feared he lacked even the qualification to die.

After paying off his debts, he enjoyed a few months of peace. Chi Zhaoming went to work on schedule, avoided revisiting the past, and didn’t even glance at betting websites anymore.

After work, he brought Xiyu home from school.

Xiyu, upon returning home, loved watching professional basketball games from America. Because of the time difference, the broadcasts were usually in the morning, so he missed the live games. Thus, after school, he eagerly awaited the replay on TV.

Dujuan busied herself with household chores, folding clean laundry retrieved from the balcony.

As soon as Xiyu entered, he rushed to turn on the television, tuning it to the replay channel.

The TV was airing a Lakers versus Rockets game, the broadcast volume a bit loud. From her room, Dujuan heard the hated sports program and strode into the living room, unleashing her fury, “Who switched the TV to a sports channel?” She glared at Chi Zhaoming, nearly hysterical.

“Don’t look at me—it wasn’t me,” Chi Zhaoming replied, somewhat fearful of her demeanor.

“I turned it on. This isn’t soccer, it’s basketball. It’s an NBA game. Can’t I even watch basketball?” Xiyu asked.

“I don’t care what game it is. The moment I see any competition, I feel an inexplicable rage. It’s these games that ruined our lives, made every tasty meal a luxury, forced us to live in this cramped space. If not for these games, we wouldn’t be like this.” Dujuan’s string of accusations left Xiyu speechless.

“That was soccer, not basketball. And Dad isn’t watching. Aren’t you being a bit much? Dad’s no longer involved in gambling. Can’t you let go of the past unhappiness? If you keep holding on, your wounds will never heal.” Xiyu still tried to comfort his angry mother.

“My mood is awful, awful enough to smash the TV. I don’t want to see anything related to sports, don’t want to hear a single word about leagues or games. You don’t know—the sound triggers my nerves, and once they’re touched, I could even wish for death. Such feelings you can’t and won’t understand.” Dujuan grew more agitated as she spoke.

“Alright, alright, we’ll turn off the TV. Please calm down. We won’t watch, won’t ever mention games again,” Xiyu said.

Chi Zhaoming remained silent, still afraid. He quietly continued preparing dinner.

With the TV turned off, the house was unusually silent.

Although busy with dinner, Chi Zhaoming felt stifled by the exchange between Xiyu and Dujuan. He knew it was his own fault that led to their current predicament, and he had never imagined life could become so bleak. He wondered how long this would last—three years, five years? He had no answers.

After a brief lull, Dujuan began to stare into space, fiddling endlessly with her phone—a digital device she’d used for nearly nine years. It still looked half-new, but was hopelessly outdated. Though she only used it for calls and texts, her classmates believed she should at least have a larger-screen smart phone.

Dinner was ready; Chi Zhaoming tidied the kitchen, arranging everything neatly.

Knowing Dujuan was still upset, he approached her hurriedly, “What’s wrong, dear?”

“Don’t you know? How could you ever understand my pain? Your heart is made of stone—you’d never understand,” Dujuan replied, shaking her head.

“If you don’t say, how would I know? Why not tell me, see if I can help?” Chi Zhaoming asked cautiously. “Ever since you came back from your class reunion, your mood has been sour. Did something happen there?”

“Yes, you noticed I’ve been unhappy since the reunion, so you still have some conscience left. Your actions have caused such harm to me and Xiyu—it’s not something that can be healed in a day or two. Every related incident plunges my heart into an abyss. It’s so hard to find an outlet for my anger and frustration.” As she spoke, Dujuan was already in tears.

“You’re upset because your phone is outdated and your classmates mocked you. The stores are still open and the telecom shop isn’t far. Let’s go now and get you a new phone,” Chi Zhaoming said.

“A new phone? Do you know how much a smart phone costs? At least three thousand. Xiyu eats the cheapest fast food every day outside his school—you haven’t noticed how much thinner he’s gotten? I always tell him not to skimp, to raise his meal standards and eat better, but he won’t. I know he hesitates to spend extra money when buying food; I’ve watched from near his school many times and saw he wants something nicer, but because of you, he won’t spend a penny more. That’s your son—a good, considerate boy. How could you still gamble with such a child?” Dujuan finished in one breath, wiping her tears.

“Let’s go. I know it’s my fault that things are like this. There’s an old saying: admitting mistakes and correcting them is a great virtue. At least I know I was wrong, and I’m trying to change—isn’t that enough?” Chi Zhaoming pleaded with Dujuan to calm down. “Today, I got a little extra bonus, so let’s go to the shop now and buy you a phone you like.”

“Extra bonus? If I hadn’t gotten angry, you probably wouldn’t have told me about it. You’ve been watching me seethe for hours and didn’t mention the money at all—were you planning to gamble it away?” Dujuan started to blame Chi Zhaoming for not telling her sooner.

“I’ve been home for hours, cooking, but when I saw you upset, I came over to check on you. After much coaxing, I learned your anger was about the phone—I didn’t even have a chance to tell you about the bonus. It’s unfair for you to blame me,” Chi Zhaoming explained.