Psst! We're moving!
Cheng Guo’an adored Cheng Wanyue more than anyone else. Her firm opposition made this a complicated matter.
He had assumed that since the children already knew each other and their relationships had always been good, they would easily accept the idea of adoption. However, he hadn’t expected Cheng Wanyue’s resistance to be so vehement—leaving no room for negotiation. Cheng Guo’an had to consider her feelings, so after inviting Qing Hang into the house, he avoided mentioning the adoption altogether.
When Yan Ci returned the plates, only Grandma Qian and Cheng Yuzhou were at home.
“Xiao Yan, come in and have lunch with us,” Madam Qian took the dishes from him and pulled him inside, seating him next to Cheng Yuzhou. “You two know each other, right?”
Cheng Yuzhou nodded. “We met on the day of Wanyue and Yanqing’s birthday.”
But for Yan Ci, he had known Cheng Yuzhou much earlier.
Back then, his relationship with Zhou Yu was still simple. Zhou Yu often came to his house, and the two would do homework together on the rooftop of their residential building. From there, they could clearly see the Cheng family’s courtyard. They would bet on small things, like guessing which foot Cheng Yuzhou would step forward with when entering the house. The sound of his suitcase wheels scraping against the ground would reach them long before he appeared.
They had guessed three times, and Yan Ci lost all three.
“How much do you want?” Cheng Yuzhou went to fetch bowls and chopsticks, glancing back at Yan Ci. “Will you serve yourself?”
Yan Ci replied, “I’ve already eaten.”
Madam Qian pressed down on his shoulder to stop him from getting up. “Your hair is still wet—you just woke up, didn’t you? Our bowls are small. A growing boy needs at least two bowls.”
Cheng Yuzhou brought the pot of noodles directly to the table, and only after everyone finished eating—even scraping the plate clean—did Madam Qian let Yan Ci leave.
The living room fan was on, and the door curtain occasionally fluttered in the breeze. Cheng Yuzhou didn’t take naps, so he sat with Grandma Qian watching TV. Their conversation drifted from Qing Hang’s grandfather to a question Cheng Yuzhou had once asked Cheng Yanqing but never received an answer to.
“Grandma, did Yan Ci’s parents die from illness or an accident?”
“It was more of an accident… though it’s hard to call it that,” Madam Qian sighed. “This story starts with Zhou Yu’s family. You’ve heard her speak, right? She has a slight accent because she’s from out of town. In her early twenties, she married into our village and had no relatives here. Back then, the countryside was building roads, and Zhou Yu’s grandfather worked at a construction site. He died in an explosion caused by dynamite. After that, she didn’t remarry and raised Liu Fen alone.
“Zhou Liwen’s family was poor too. After marrying Liu Fen, they lived hand-to-mouth. Her mother-in-law’s health was poor, and as the main breadwinner, Zhou Liwen had to support the family. But he wasn’t educated and could only do manual labor. Yan Ci’s uncle—the so-called ‘coal boss’—made a fortune by contracting mines, and Zhou Liwen followed him. He worked hard and earned some money in the early years, even building a new house for his family. But last January, just before the Lunar New Year, there was an accident at the mine. The shaft collapsed, and Zhou Liwen was crushed to death.”
“Several others died too, and some were severely injured. All the mine owners who had jointly contracted the mine fled. Liu Fen had no choice but to seek compensation from Yan Ci’s family. She couldn’t find Yan Ci’s uncle, so she went after Yan Ci’s parents. This dragged on until May of last year, when Liu Fen blocked Yan Ci’s parents’ car on the road. To avoid hitting her, they collided head-on with a large truck.”
“The two families used to have a good relationship, and the two children were always together. Technically, Liu Fen bore some responsibility for Yan Ci’s parents’ deaths, but she was diagnosed with a mental illness, so the court didn’t rule against her.”
Cheng Yuzhou felt heavy-hearted. No wonder Cheng Yanqing struggled to explain everything in just a few words.
He remembered the first night he returned, standing in the alley behind the house. Zhou Yu and Yan Ci seemed bound together by an invisible rope—or like sparks falling onto dry firewood, ready to ignite at any moment.
________________________________________
At 4:10 PM, Zhou Yu said she had finished her homework and asked Cheng Yuzhou if they should head to the riverside now.
Cheng Yuzhou agreed, suggesting they meet at the library entrance.
He arrived first, waiting as Zhou Yu slowly approached. The clouds parted, and the sun reappeared, shining brightly on her white clothes, making her glow. Her smiling eyes sparkled as if sprinkled with tiny stars.
Zhou Yu had delayed a bit at home. She usually tied her hair up, but it hadn’t dried completely when she left. A neighbor mentioned that her outfit looked better with her hair down. After checking herself in the mirror, she decided it felt strange and tied her hair back into a ponytail anyway.
“Did you wait long?”
“No, I just got here too,” Cheng Yuzhou tilted his chin toward the intersection. “Shall we go this way?”
“Mm,” Zhou Yu glanced behind him. “Where’s Wanyue?”
“She might still be upset. Not in the mood to go.”
“What happened?”
Cheng Yuzhou shrugged helplessly. “Uncle wants to add a brother for her, but she’s not happy about it.”
Zhou Yu chuckled. “People usually add a younger brother or sister. Who adds an older brother just like that?”
“Exactly. This plan probably won’t work,” Cheng Yuzhou wasn’t worried about Cheng Wanyue at all.
It took about twenty minutes to get from the city to the riverside. Several routes led there, but this one was the quietest. As they walked, Zhou Yu pointed out old buildings along the way.
Before school started, some elementary school kids played by the river. The sun hadn’t set yet, and later in the evening, more people would gather.
Every year, several people drowned in this river, but children ignored warnings and loved playing by the water. A distant relative of Zhou Yu’s father urged his son to jump into the water. Too far away to hear their shouts, the kids on the shore thought he was just fooling around and clapped.
Zhou Yu noticed something was wrong and hurried toward the shore. Cheng Yuzhou was faster—he stripped off his shirt and dove straight in.
Cheng Yuzhou swam to the boy, supporting his body. Zhou Yu, who also knew how to swim, jumped in to help push the boy ashore.
The nearby children were terrified. Cheng Yuzhou knelt on one knee, the boy lying across his lap. Zhou Yu pressed on the boy’s stomach and back. After vomiting dirty water, the boy burst into loud sobs.
The boy’s mother rushed over with a stick, dragging him home by the ear.
Cheng Yuzhou wiped water from his face and relaxed, sitting on the ground. The sunlight reflected off the water, stinging his eyes. He turned his head to catch his breath. Beside him, Zhou Yu fared no better—in fact, she looked more disheveled.
Her white T-shirt, soaked through, clung to her skin, becoming somewhat transparent and revealing the color of her inner layer. Exhausted from pulling the chubby boy ashore, she braced herself on the ground, eyes closed, tilting her head back to breathe deeply.
Cheng Yuzhou quickly averted his gaze and stood up to retrieve the shirt he had carelessly tossed aside.
Suddenly, a piece of clothing draped over her head, blocking the sun. Zhou Yu caught a faint scent of the shirt and opened her eyes in confusion.
She looked up as the shirt slid down her face.
Cheng Yuzhou coughed twice, his voice hoarse. “Put this on for now—to cover up. There are clothes of Wanyue’s at Grandma’s place. You can change when we get back.”