QKYJ - 12

Shen Zhi’s impression of Shen He’s father remained from a few years ago.

Shen He was filming out of town, and while she was home alone, she received a call from building management saying that someone claiming to be her father-in-law was loitering outside the residential area.

Their property management company, to whom they paid monthly fees on time, was professional and usually wouldn’t bother them for baseless matters. Shen Zhi went downstairs, and the moment she saw the man, she understood why the staff hadn’t dared to act rashly.

Shen He inherited his good looks from his father.

His father himself was young, and he didn’t show his age, still dashing and debonair in his late forties.

Coupled with his eloquence and ability to charm everyone, claiming to be the father of a popular male actor was indeed convincing.

Shen Zhi remembered that day, Shen He’s father had a slicked-back hairstyle, his shirt buttons fastened all the way to his collar, and he loved to talk and laugh, exuding an air of carefree nonchalance. He was somewhat like Shen He, yet not quite.

They had met when they got married, but hadn’t kept in touch. Shen Zhi first contacted Shen He through her agent.

When he heard the news, Shen He hesitated for a moment. Finally, Shen Zhi was the first to say, “I’ll entertain Dad first.” He had no objection, only saying, “Don’t be too good to him.”

Shen Zhi hung up the phone.

Shen He’s father immediately said with a smile, “Did he tell you not to be good to me?”

Shen Zhi smiled faintly.

“He’s so old, yet still so immature,” he added, “That child.”

________________________________________

Hua Zichen gifted Shen Zhi a trapezoidal diamond-encrusted wristwatch as compensation for his subordinates’ negligence that day, which had startled her.

Shen Zhi put it on and looked at it. After learning the price, she quietly put it away.

He gently tapped his fingers on the table, maintaining a smile, and said, “I was wondering why Shen He left after just one phone call.”

She said, “You and my husband have a very good relationship recently.”

“Yes, he’s very nice, and he has a lot of ideas,” Hua Zichen said. “I think he’s very suitable to be a friend. Don’t you like him?”

Of course, she couldn’t speak the truth. Shen Zhi shook her head and smiled kindly: “If the leader and my husband are friends, I wonder if you could give me a raise.”

Hua Zichen also laughed: “Keep business and private matters separate.”

After going downstairs, Shen Zhi headed straight for the airport. She was not a local, and neither was Shen He.

As soon as they got on the plane, they both fell asleep.

The assistant couldn’t wake them up.

It wasn’t Shen Zhi’s first time in Shen He’s hometown; she had visited his stepmother before they got married. She didn’t have many other impressions, only remembering that the house was very small and that his stepmother made red bean paste dumplings that night. Both Shen He and Shen Zhi were constrained by work and couldn’t eat much, so they unwrapped one, cut it in half with a spoon, and shared it.

Then, his kind and stout stepmother smiled lovingly and said in accented Mandarin, “Good, good, you two are truly good.”

They went to the funeral home first.

The cremation hadn’t happened yet, and the mourning hall was still being set up. Shen He looked around, saying nothing.

Then they went back home.

Not long after Shen He’s father left his stepmother, Shen He also moved out. In his own words later, it was “too ashamed to stay there.”

Indeed. He and his stepmother’s family were connected by his father, but his father repeatedly cheated, and finally ran off to live with the woman he was dallying with, completely abandoning his family.

In such circumstances, Shen He truly could not live under the same roof as his stepmother and half-brother.

As they walked into the neighborhood, Shen Zhi looked up and saw the intricate network of tree branches. Shen He looked at her with a questioning gaze, and she simply explained, “It’s been a long time since I’ve been here.”

The one who answered the door was Shen He’s younger brother.

The middle school boy still had some baby fat, with large, bright eyes, inheriting his mother’s round face and brown hair, and faintly showing some resemblance to his father.

His younger brother let them in, and his stepmother walked out from the kitchen. “You’re here, you must be tired? He just got back from school today too, on leave,” she said. “Dinner’s ready.”

Shen He nodded: “The arrangements are almost done. We’ll eat here first before going back to the funeral home.”

As soon as the assistant entered, the room felt even smaller. In return, Shen He had bought a property for his stepmother, but the woman was too polite and always just rented it out, never living there herself.

Shen Zhi wanted to change clothes, so she nudged Shen He. He had already put on a black formal suit before coming. The two entered what used to be Shen He’s bedroom, now a storage room.

The light inside was broken.

Shen He pressed it a few times, but there was no response. Fortunately, the refrigerator was there, emitting a faint light. She said it was okay, so he closed the door.

Shen Zhi put on a black dress.

As she opened the door, she happened to hear boisterous laughter coming from the living room.

________________________________________

They were unexpectedly not very sad. At least, that’s how they appeared. The last time she came before they got married, Shen He’s stepmother pulled Shen Zhi aside for a private chat.

“We always treated his dad as if he were dead,” the woman, raising her son alone, said.

“That must be very sad?” Shen Zhi asked.

“It’s sad, but if I didn’t think that way, I’d be sad for a lifetime,” she said. “This way is a bit better. That man was heartless, but his son, Shen He, he has a conscience. Thank you truly for marrying him.”

The memory came to a temporary halt. Shen Zhi walked out and saw Shen He, dressed in black and with his hair combed back, laughing heartily. His laugh reminded her of the crisp morning air in winter; it felt cold when inhaled but was undeniably refreshing.

Shen He was the eldest son, so he naturally returned to serve as the chief mourner.

Thanks to this, Shen Zhi met many Shen family members she didn’t know—even though her surname was also Shen.

It wasn’t appropriate for the private assistant to interfere too much, but fortunately, Shen He had everything arranged perfectly. He always achieved whatever he set his mind to, Shen Zhi knew that well. The cremation took place the very next day. Shen He was very calm, not sad at all, not even relieved.

They walked side by side back to the mourning hall.

Shen He asked her, “Did your family used to visit graves?”

“Yes, we’d take the bus to church, sprinkle holy water on the cross, ‘Amen,’” Shen Zhi said, gesturing as she spoke.

She then asked, “What about you?”

He looked up, stretching his neck and shoulders, and said, “I have no idea.”

“No idea?”

“Hmm,” he replied solemnly, “I didn’t recognize many of the relatives who came to visit these past two days.”

Shen Zhi couldn’t help but laugh.

It wasn’t her fault; his own expression was quite comical.

Shen He said, “Really. If you think about it, I know nothing about my parents. Maybe I’m adopted.”

“That’s unlikely,” Shen Zhi comforted him, “You and your dad have the same blood type.”

He suddenly turned back: “How do you know?”

“Last time, I accompanied your dad to the doctor,” she said casually.

That was the time Shen He entered the film crew.

He choked up for a few seconds, then replied, “Thank you—”

“No need,” Shen Zhi sighed, “Didn’t you also arrange for my aunt’s family’s accommodation and meals?”

They both maintained intermittent sleep while keeping vigil. Shen He’s stepmother kept urging Shen Zhi to rest, but she just waved her hand: “It’s fine, I’m used to it from filming.”

The interlude probably began a few days before the burial.

Later, Shen Zhi thought, it was probably because the obituaries had gradually reached everyone.

After breakfast, she took Shen He’s share and went back first. Then, behind the black gauze, she saw that woman.

“Excuse me, you—” She initiated the conversation, but startled the other person.

The woman panicked, pushing the child hidden behind her towards Shen Zhi. “This is his child!” she stammered, tears streaming down her face.

For a moment, Shen Zhi was stunned. A current ran through both her temples. She held the child with both hands, asking somewhat distractedly, “Whose child?”

The woman wailed again, “He’s dead, but he can’t just abandon his child!”

A sudden wave of relief washed over her.

So, it wasn’t Shen He’s child.

Then, she became alert again.

Unbeknownst to her, Shen He was already standing by her side. Shen Zhi looked over and saw his usual composure.

Seeing two public figures present, the woman was clearly even more nervous: “He’s not dead, is he? Is he just trying to find an excuse to leave? Just like before—”

“He’s dead,” Shen He said.

As if pronouncing a death sentence.

Shen He didn’t care who she was, what her name was, or what had happened between her and his father. He even unhurriedly suggested, “You can light an incense stick for him.”

He turned his back and walked away, showing no intention of looking back. Shen Zhi, however, crossed her arms and scrutinized the child from head to toe.

Back in the mourning hall, Shen Zhi saw Shen He eating the meal she had brought back.

She sat down beside him and couldn’t help but lift her legs to relax. He held his chopsticks and said, “I should have just added ‘no inheritance’ to the obituary.”

“Your dad was quite handsome,” Shen Zhi said.

So, it’s not necessarily about material possessions.

In the end, Shen He laughed, saying with self-awareness, “I’m also quite handsome; I hope some woman will love me that much too.”

Such an incident happening at a funeral was indeed somewhat dramatic.

However, reality is sometimes more dramatic than imagination.

Not just “once.”

It happened three times within two days.

Watching three women arrive, each bringing a child claiming to be Shen He’s half-sibling, the process was largely similar. First, disbelief, then overwhelming grief, ranging from endless crying to a full-blown scene. Finally, they accepted reality, took a portion of the compensation, and left.

One of them even had the intention of abandoning her child.

She was immediately warned off by Shen He with a sharp, “Do you want to sue me?”

He was very unaccommodating in some ways.

Shen Zhi turned around, just in time to see Shen He’s stepmother and younger brother. These scenes over several days were witnessed not only by Shen He; the mother and son also saw the life their husband and father had never shown them. Even if they said, “Act as if he’s dead,” facing the reality, how could it be so simple?

Moreover, the child was still young—

Shen Zhi didn’t feel she was in a position to say anything, and Shen He also stood motionless.

He seemed to want to go over.

However, in the next second, the stepmother firmly grasped the still young boy.

She held her son’s hand, trembling herself, large tears rolling down her cheeks. She simply held him, as if that alone could convey comfort.

Shen He immediately stopped.

He and they would not be family. At least, that’s what he had always believed.

That was the last night before the burial.

Shen He was forced by his stepmother to go back and rest, and Shen Zhi went along as well.

The assistant drove them back, yawning all the way, and even exclaimed, “Brother Shen, Sister Shen, how did you two practice such divine skills like Guo Jing and Huang Rong? You can really endure a lot.”

“If we told you, then you’d be paying us,” Shen Zhi teased.

They went to sleep in the master bedroom.

That was the room Shen He’s stepmother usually slept in. Both of them showered and were exhausted by the time they lay down on the bed. Shen Zhi was stretching her legs when, without any warning, Shen He said, “I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?”

Shen Zhi paused for a moment, not answering. After a long silence, she finally spoke: “I don’t know.”

They prepared to sink into dreams when, suddenly, Shen He asked her, “Can you comfort me?”

Shen Zhi looked at his face, quietly, blankly pondering.

He interrupted in time: “I’m just kidding.”

The lights went off, and everything was plunged into darkness. An arm, like a snake, silently passed across the bed. She held him, just as she had seen earlier in the day. It wasn’t anyone’s obligation, but he asked her, so she did it. It had nothing to do with love. They closed their eyes.