#55

Couples passed by the milk tea shop in twos and threes, but their presence couldn’t obscure the two figures standing across the street. All the noise seemed to fade into the background.

Le Ya stood on this side, her eyes fixed intently on the pair across the way.

Behind her, an elderly man pushing a cart of roasted sweet potatoes stopped when he saw her standing there. “Young lady, would you like a sweet potato?”

The person in front of her didn’t respond.

The elderly man looked left and right for a moment, unsure what was going on, then eventually moved on. The aroma of roasted sweet potatoes lingered in the air.

Le Ya glanced down at her phone and slowly deleted each character from the text box, her hands trembling slightly.

Only one message remained in the chat: Chen Yang’s last reply.

“Be good.”

She wanted to be good.

Le Ya didn’t know what kind of relationship Chen Yang had with her mother, but it was clear that the woman had been talking to him—and even laughing.

It had been years since Le Ya had seen her. She had deliberately tried to forget, and her father, Le Yijian, had gone out of his way to shield her from it.

She had never even visited the psychiatric hospital.

The hospital was far from the Le family home, located in the suburbs. The one time she went, she only stood outside for a while before leaving.

Le Ya retreated back into the crowd.

Being shorter than most people here, she was easily hidden behind the taller parents. No one outside could see her.

“There’s nothing more to say.”

Chen Yang coldly stared at the woman in front of him, his voice icy.

He glanced at his phone—still no message from Le Ya. Perhaps she hadn’t left school yet.

Chen Yang looked at the sea of people at the school gate and furrowed his brow slightly.

If Le Ya came out, she would definitely see them, and seeing this woman with him would only cause greater misunderstanding.

Fang Yuan gazed deeply at his face, reminded of his father’s features. But now, she had no way to contact him.

Her only option was through Chen Yang.

“It’s getting late,” Fang Yuan said with a smile. “Have you eaten? Let me treat you to dinner. How about Da Zhu’s place? Their food is always great.”

Your father loved eating there.

Fang Yuan silently added in her mind.

Chen Yang glanced at her indifferently. “That place went out of business six years ago.”

It took Fang Yuan a few seconds to process what he meant. A flicker of embarrassment crossed her eyes, and her lips parted as if to say something.

Chen Yang grew impatient. “Leave.”

Fang Yuan pretended not to hear him and reorganized her words: “You must be under so much stress with your studies—it’s your final year of high school. You need to take care of yourself. If you don’t like that place, we can go somewhere else…”

She rambled on, showing no intention of leaving.

Chen Yang grew worried and turned to leave.

Fang Yuan quickly followed, her mind racing with ways to extract information from him.

The area in front of the milk tea shop returned to normal.

Le Ya emerged from the crowd and watched their retreating figures. After hesitating for a moment, she gritted her teeth and followed them.

At the end of the road, there was a small alley leading to a residential area. It was usually frequented only by students and residents.

Le Ya stopped in front of a nearby shop.

She figured she might be able to hear their voices from here.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, she heard a woman’s voice in the distance: “Chen Yang, I don’t have much to offer you. Don’t hold it against me.”

“I do hold it against you,” Le Ya heard Chen Yang’s impatient voice. “Don’t ever show up in front of me again.”

She didn’t fully understand the situation until something clicked in her mind. She remembered that Fang Yuan’s affair had been with a man surnamed Chen.

Every time Fang Yuan came to her house, she made Le Ya call him “Uncle Chen.”

The same Uncle Chen who had ruined her family.

Le Ya wanted to leave, but her feet felt rooted to the spot. Then she heard the words that shattered her: “…Two months ago, on your birthday, I didn’t get you a gift. I’m sorry—I was preoccupied at the time…”

Two months ago.

Chen Yang’s birthday.

Le Ya felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over her.

She could barely process it, but one thought ignited like wildfire, spreading uncontrollably through her mind.

Two months ago, Fang Yuan had called her, trying to play on her emotions by mentioning her birthday. Now, she was using the same tactic.

Chen Yang’s birthday had been that month.

Fang Yuan had mistaken Le Ya’s birthday for someone else’s, conflating the dates, and now she hoped to gain forgiveness to escape her confinement.

Le Ya’s palms were red from gripping them so tightly.

By nine o’clock, snow had begun to fall outside.

Le Yijian was still at the office reviewing a document. With the year-end approaching, work was busier than ever. Then, his driver called.

The driver sounded tense: “Sir, I tried calling Miss Yueya, but she didn’t answer. I’m not sure if anything’s wrong.”

Le Yijian’s voice was calm but firm: “I see.”

After hanging up, he immediately called Le Ya, but the phone rang for a long time without being answered—an unusual occurrence.

Le Yijian waited, making several more attempts, but none went through. He then called Aunt Zhang: “Has Yueya come home yet?”

Aunt Zhang replied: “Yes, she’s resting in her room.”

Her tone seemed normal, so Le Yijian let out a sigh of relief and asked a few more questions before ending the call.

Perhaps she was busy with homework and hadn’t noticed his calls.

That’s what he told himself, but it was the first time this had happened, and he feared something might be wrong. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well.

He quickly finished handling the document and left the office, taking a report from his desk as he went.

He arrived home half an hour later. After setting down his briefcase and changing his shoes, he headed straight upstairs.

Aunt Zhang muttered downstairs: “What’s gotten into both father and daughter today?”

She hadn’t even noticed Le Ya coming home earlier—she only realized it when she saw her boots while tidying up.

Now, Mr. Le had rushed home as if something urgent had happened, completely unlike his usual self.

The second floor was quiet.

Le Yijian knocked on the door.

The room was pitch black, the bed covered in a lump of blankets.

Inside, Le Ya sniffled softly, then abruptly silenced herself. She wiped the tears from her face with her hand and quickly dried it with a tissue.

Le Yijian asked: “Yueya, are you in there?”

Le Ya replied: “Yes.”

After composing her expression, she shuffled over in her slippers to open the door.

The room was still dark, and Le Yijian couldn’t make out the details of her face. In a gentle voice, he asked: “Why didn’t you answer the phone? Were you asleep and didn’t hear it?”

Le Ya softly hummed in response.

She hadn’t changed her clothes after returning home, but now she couldn’t think of any excuses, so she simply went along with the one her father had provided for her.

Though Le Yijian thought it was unusually quiet, he didn’t dwell on it too much, especially since he had good news to share, which made him even happier.

He gently patted Le Ya’s head. “Dad has some good news to tell you.”

Le Ya looked up. “Good news?”

Le Yijian nodded. “The doctor’s schedule has opened up, and they’re already working on the best plan for you. If everything goes well, we can go right now.”

He didn’t care much about the college entrance exam.

Nothing was more important than his daughter’s hearing. Even if she didn’t do well on the exam, she could still live a fulfilling life.

But if she wanted, they could postpone things a bit.

Le Ya froze for a moment, instinctively touching her ears.

Le Yijian looked at her with a hint of heartache and reassured her: “This doctor is very professional. His team has many successful cases. Dad will definitely cure your hearing.”

He bent down, looking directly into his daughter’s eyes. “When that time comes, Yueya can do whatever she wants without worrying about anything.”

Le Ya tried her best to act as though nothing was wrong, forcing a smile and saying nothing.

She desperately wanted to return to normal.

“When that time comes, you’ll be able to go to those fun amusement parks and won’t have to wear these things every day,” Le Yijian said with a smile, gently pinching her earlobe. “Your pretty little ears should be seen by everyone.”

Le Ya’s ears twitched slightly.

With her hearing aids, she could hear everything clearly now, as if the words were echoing the bright future her father was painting for her.

Only she knew how fast her heart was racing.

Le Yijian assumed she was overwhelmed by the news and spoke softly: “Dinner will be ready soon. Don’t fall asleep.”

After giving her the reminder, he handed her the report, stood up, and prepared to leave.

Le Ya called out to him. “Dad.”

Le Yijian stopped and turned his head. “What is it?”

Before he could react, Le Ya tightly hugged him from behind, her childlike affection unmistakable.

Le Ya said: “Thank you.”

Le Yijian was stunned for a few seconds, then gently patted her hand.

After returning to her room, Le Ya turned on the light.

She hadn’t known what the report her father gave her was about, but now, under the lamp, she examined it closely. It contained introductions of the doctor and numerous success stories.

Anyone who read it would feel inspired.

For a brief moment, Le Ya felt a surge of excitement. Her fingers lightly touched the descriptions of children who had successfully regained their normal lives—it felt as though it were happening right before her eyes.

It wasn’t until ten minutes later that she snapped out of it.

Her phone, placed on the bed, was vibrating nonstop. Le Ya walked over and saw the name “Chen Yang” glowing on the screen.

She hesitated for a moment but ultimately didn’t answer. She let the phone vibrate in her palm until it finally went silent.

It felt as though a hand was gripping her chest tightly.

She hadn’t checked her phone much recently. Now, upon opening it, she discovered numerous missed calls—seven or eight from her father and over a dozen from Chen Yang.

Her gaze lingered on them, and in the end, she clicked delete, watching the red phone numbers disappear from the call log. Still, the heavy weight in her heart remained.

The phone rang again.

Le Ya stared at the name on the screen. It took her a while to realize it, but the call automatically ended before she could react.

Seconds later, it rang again.

This time, Le Ya pressed the answer button and brought the phone to her ear. Unsure of what to say, she simply listened quietly.

“Are you home?”

It was a simple question, with no further inquiries.

After a few seconds, Le Ya hummed softly in response, then fell silent.

Chen Yang listened to her breathing through the phone and sighed inwardly. After hours of anxiety, hearing her voice reassured him that she was safe.

He didn’t know what had happened.

The WeChat message he sent her earlier in the evening had gone unanswered, and her phone had been unreachable until now. Only now did his heart finally settle.

From her voice, it seemed something had occurred.

At first, Chen Yang thought it was minor, but after several hours passed, he began to have an ominous feeling.

On the other end, Le Ya held her breath.

Aside from her initial acknowledgment, neither of them spoke further. The call remained connected.

Le Ya hesitated. “…Why haven’t you hung up yet?”

“I want you to hang up first,” Chen Yang said. Though he had suspicions, he ultimately asked nothing, only saying: “Goodnight.”

Le Ya ended the call herself.

Her mind was a chaotic mess.

Just seeing this reminded her of the scene from earlier in the evening.

Fang Yuan, who had always treated her coldly, was now pleading with Chen Yang. The memories from years ago played on a loop in her mind.

That woman’s face was etched deeply in her memory, her fake smile and insincere words making her feel sick.

Le Ya suddenly recalled that winter night when the man in the wheelchair recognized her and pushed her away.

And it turned out he was Chen Yang’s father.

So her own biological mother had never cared about her as a daughter, yet she fawned over someone else—laughably, that person was Chen Yang.

Le Ya felt a wave of nausea.

She gagged twice. Despite wearing her hearing aids, her ears rang painfully, as if someone were drilling into them.

She gasped for air, like a fish pulled out of water, struggling to survive in an oxygen-deprived environment.

Le Ya dropped her phone and rushed to the bathroom.

Even though she felt terrible, she ultimately didn’t vomit anything up.