Lin Wan sat in her apartment, stunned for a long time. It wasn't until a while later that she remembered something important. She picked up her phone and dialed a number. The call was quickly answered.
"Wanwan? You didn't get on the plane?"
"Dad, I won't be going. Something happened here."
Her father immediately sounded alarmed, "What happened? Are you okay?"
"Chen Jin had a car accident."
After hanging up, Lin Wan collapsed on the sofa, drained. She had originally planned to go to W City, taking advantage of her health to visit them, to see the "home" her father always talked about. To repair relationships, the first step had to be taken. This was also for the sake of her baby—she didn't want her child to grow up alone, like she had.
But unexpectedly, the next afternoon, her father appeared at her doorstep. For a moment, she thought she was dreaming, murmuring, "Dad, why are you here?"
Her father sighed. "Wanwan, I should be here with you at a time like this."
Her heart warmed, and her eyes immediately reddened. Her father noticed how much thinner she had become since their last meeting, with obvious dark circles under her eyes. He felt both heartbroken and guilty, and gently extended his arm. When he saw her not pulling away, he cautiously embraced her, patting her back and comforting her, "Wanwan, don't worry, Ah Jin will be fine. Good people are protected by heaven…"
As soon as Lin Wan heard those words, she burst into tears. If that logic was true, then Chen Jin might not have done it.
Since returning, Chen Zui hadn't left the hospital for a moment. He either sat in the waiting room, silently holding his head in his hands, or stood dumbly outside the ICU, staring at the person inside. His mother, seeing how distressed he was, urged him to go home and rest, but he refused. When told to eat, he said he wasn't hungry, only occasionally drinking a little water. By the end of the day, he looked like a wreck, his stubble growing out of days of neglect.
The two elderly parents stayed by his side all night and day before being sent home to rest. Others took turns keeping watch. The next morning, Chen Xi came to relieve him. Seeing Chen Zui still standing like a withered tree, she walked over to him and, with a nasal voice, tried to comfort him. "Little bro, don't be like this. Third brother will wake up."
Chen Zui locked his gaze on the world on the other side of the glass, his voice hoarse as he asked, "Little Xi, do you know why he's lying there?"
Chen Xi looked at him, puzzled, and he let out a bitter laugh. "It's because of me. This is retribution."
"Don't talk nonsense, it was an accident."
Chen Zui raised his hand to rub his stiff face, shaking his head. "No, it's not. It's not."
In the end, at the doctor's insistence, Chen Zui returned home for a while to freshen up. His clothes reeked of sweat and grime, and he couldn't enter the ICU in such a state. He took a shower, shaved, and changed into clean clothes before heading to his brother's room.
The first thing he noticed was the picture frame on the bookshelf, containing two boys: one about seven or eight years old, with a buzz cut, wearing a white shirt and blue shorts—looking like a typical schoolboy; the other, only two or three years old, wearing a watermelon rind on his head, dressed in oversized suspenders, smiling so widely that his eyes weren't visible.
He took the frame, staring at it, trying to recall those moments. He had been so young back then, with only vague memories of following his brother, stumbling along, sniffling, always behind him. His brother didn't like playing with him, calling him a nuisance, but every time he fell or was bullied by other kids, his brother would be there in an instant, as if he had eyes in the back of his head...
Back at the hospital, after getting the doctor's permission, Chen Zui put on protective gear and entered the ICU. The sight before him was even more painful up close. The person in the bed had an oxygen mask over most of his face, his skin pale, his eye sockets sunken with no signs of life. The only indication that he was still alive were the beeping machines by his bed.
The picture at home flashed in his mind—such a beautiful time, now utterly unrecognizable. All of this... this was his doing.
Chen Zui slumped into a chair by the bed, sniffing, struggling to speak. After a long while, he finally said, "Brother, you've been asleep for three days. It's time to wake up. Look at you now, so thin... I..." He choked, and the words got stuck in his throat, finally managing to say, "I can barely recognize you anymore."
He forced himself to calm down, speaking in a low voice. "These past few days, I've been thinking about the past," he shook his head. "Actually, no—it's been pushing its way into my mind, day and night, relentlessly. Sometimes I think about it and laugh, sometimes my heart aches, and sometimes I cry."
Chen Zui rubbed his aching temples, continuing to recall, "Do you remember that time? I came home and said the kindergarten teacher was mean to me, that she gave me a smaller piece of cake than the others and was always shouting at me. You had someone scare her with a wolfdog on her way home. After the incident, you got punished, and when Dad asked you if you knew what you had done wrong, you said no—you couldn't let anyone bully your little brother."
He laughed self-deprecatingly. "I lied back then. The teacher was actually fine. I just didn't want to go to kindergarten. When Dad hit you, I wanted to tell the truth, but I was scared of getting hit myself. See? I've been a little brat all my life—selfish, cowardly, and mean."
"Once, during the New Year, I was playing with my cousin in the living room, and we knocked over Grandpa's favorite antique vase. I was terrified. He's always disliked me, and now he must hate me even more. When you found out, you said you were the one who broke it. I still remember—you were punished and couldn't eat for a whole day. Later, I secretly brought you a big loaf of bread. You ate it in two bites…"
Despite his exhaustion and the aching pain in his head, Chen Zui's memory was surprisingly sharp. The past came flooding back, as if it had been printed in front of him. One by one, those memories came tumbling out, in order, from his lips.
"On my twentieth birthday, you gave me a car. You said life is like driving, and I needed to learn to take control of my own steering wheel. I know you always had high hopes for me... but I..." He started sobbing. "I couldn't even drive a car properly. I didn't have any sense. I hit someone, and once again, I left the mess for you to clean up while I escaped. Now the retribution has come, and it's falling on you…"
Chen Zui hugged his head, crying uncontrollably. It wasn't until the nurse came in to inform him that visiting hours were over that he wiped his face and stood up. Looking at the still and peaceful person in bed, he said, "Brother, you always said I should mature. I'll be 28 in a few months. Others become adults at 18, but your little brother was such a fool. I'm 28 now, and finally, I'm learning how to live. Brother, when you wake up, I want you to see a real man."
As he left the room, the nurse closed the door behind him. Turning back, she noticed an anomaly in the monitor readings. Upon closer inspection, she saw a faint glimmer in the corner of the patient's eye. It was a tear.
Lin Wan's pregnancy symptoms were getting worse. She experienced constant dry heaving and had no appetite. Often, she would eat half her meal only to rush to the bathroom to vomit, sometimes throwing up even more than she had eaten. She also became extremely fatigued, feeling sleepy during the day, yet when she managed to fall asleep, her dreams were endless. Once, she dreamt she was at a memorial service. When she saw the black-and-white photo hanging in the memorial hall, she woke up suddenly. After calling Tan Xizhe, she confirmed it was just a nightmare, but she still felt uneasy, wondering if the next second might bring reality instead.