133: Chapter 133 My Life

Occasionally, when the night is deep and quiet.

After finishing a complex case, I would look out at the silent campus outside the window and feel a hint of hesitation.

Is this not very good? Will it disturb him? Or even... be a bit annoying?

One day, he seemed to finally get a bit annoyed by my constant harassment.

He replied to me with several messages for the first time ever, the gist of which was...

He was very busy, had no time for idle chat, and told me to stop sending these irrelevant things.

Looking at that short paragraph filled with a clear meaning of rejection.

My heart felt like it had been gently bumped by something, feeling a bit stifled.

A trace of sadness spread in the bottom of my heart, bitter.

Although I knew this was just my one-sided prank, and being called out by the person involved as irrelevant...

…it was still a bit... slightly hurtful.

Whatever!

There is no such word as "giving up easily" in Xu Xiaowen's dictionary.

You won't let me send? I'll send it anyway! You don't like idle chat?

Then I will continue to share my daily life!

Thus, my harassment not only didn't stop, but it continued and became a fixed daily program.

Just like that, one person sends, and the other occasionally replies with an "Oh" or just doesn't reply at all.

This strange way of getting along, which could hardly be called communication, actually lasted throughout my entire first semester of freshman year.

Come to think of it, it's strange that I actually got a bit used to it.

Maybe even liked it a bit?

Perhaps it's because the initiative in this relationship has always been firmly and safely in my hands.

He is like a stress-relief toy in my boring study life that I can poke at any time without worrying about losing control.

Amidst the ink fragrance of the library, the complexity of cases, and this childish harassment, my first semester of freshman year passed by in a flash, like flipping through a book.

I bought my train ticket home very early.

As the train pulled away from the familiar city, watching the scenery retreating rapidly outside the window.

A strong, unprecedented longing for home surged in my heart.

This is the first time I've been away from home for so long, right?

...

I was born in a very ordinary family.

A city that isn't too big or too small, a neighborhood that isn't new or old, and a house that isn't too big or too small.

But this home is a little different.

Because there are only two people in the house.

Me and Mom.

When I was very young, there was a dad in my memory.

Dad's figure was especially tall and big, and he was strong. He could always easily lift me very high, making me scream and laugh.

He liked to rub his newly grown stubble on his chin against my face; it was prickly and itchy. Every time it would annoy me, and I would huffily ignore him.

Then he would always have a way, like performing magic, to pull out a piece of candy or tell a clumsy joke, coaxing me into breaking into a smile through my tears.

Dad loved to hug me, and I loved to hide and let him find me.

Although from his tall perspective, my hiding spot might have been completely visible, he would still pretend not to know and grope around where I was hiding.

I would cover my little mouth, my eyes smiling into crescent shapes, waiting for him to find me.

Then I would suddenly be hugged from behind and lifted up; the huge sense of weightlessness made me extremely scared.

Turning back, Dad's doting eyes would fill me with a sense of security again.

It's just that...

The time Dad appeared was always very, very short.

I would ask Mom suspiciously where Dad went, and then look for Dad's figure everywhere in the room.

If I couldn't find him, I would cry.

I didn't know why I cried, but I always felt that the home was only perfect when Dad was there.

Mom would always spend a lot of effort to coax me into a good mood.

And every time I was about to forget Dad's existence...

Dad would suddenly appear again.

At first, I would look at him very strangely, my face full of vigilance.

Then I don't know what method he used to attract and coax me into being happy again.

Then, attracted by the scent on him—a mixture of sunshine and tobacco that inexplicably made me feel at ease—I would unknowingly fall into a deep sleep in his broad arms.

When I woke up, only Mom was left by my side, along with a gift exclusively for me left by the pillow.

Dad had left again.

These days continued until that day.

A group of strange uncles and aunts wearing crisp uniforms and shiny epaulets knocked on our door.

Their expressions were so serious, so solemn.

Holding a... small, shiny badge in their hands.

Mom looked at that badge and suddenly cried, crying until her face was covered in tears, her eyes full of tears and pain.

That was the first time I had seen Mom like that.

Little me didn't understand what had happened.

Following Mom's sad tears, I also started crying loudly.

Mom, while crying, held me tightly, her palms clutching that cold badge tightly.

Those uncles and aunts surrounded her, whispering words I didn't understand, patting her back.

A long, long time later, I truly understood.

What that badge meant that day.

It took away Dad's wind, took it away forever.

"The train is about to arrive at the platform, please passengers take your luggage and belongings..."

The train arrived at the station.

I dragged my heavy suitcase out of the platform and saw that familiar, yet slightly lonely figure in the crowd at a glance.

Mom.

She was standing on tiptoe looking around; when she saw me, a smile instantly bloomed on her face, she trotted over, and pulled me into her arms.

"It's good that you're back." Mom's voice was choked with emotion.

A short sentence, carrying the longing of a whole semester of separation.

At that moment, my nose felt sore.

A strong thought rushed into my mind.

I don't want to leave! I don't want to leave home again!

I want to always, always accompany Mom, stay by her side, and fill the time she spent alone at home.

...

After returning home, the familiar smell made me relax completely.

I still maintained the habit of reading, only the location changed from the library to the desk or sofa at home.

Most of the time, it was accompanying Mom.

Accompanying her to the bustling vegetable market, watching her bargain with familiar vendors.

Accompanying her to the supermarket, pushing the shopping cart, listening to her rambling about what delicious things to make for me.

At night, I would curl up on the sofa, accompanying her to watch the family ethics dramas she liked. Although the plots were so melodramatic that I often wanted to complain, as long as I saw her watching intently, occasionally wiping away tears, I felt at ease.

Heard that Chen Youhua entered the lab?

Truly worthy of being a Top Student.

Staying at school during the winter break, won't he feel lonely? Tsk, what a weirdo.

To avoid him being too lonely.

Hmm... I am truly a kind and considerate classmate.

During a break from reading, I picked up my phone and clicked on that familiar avatar.

"My mom made shepherd's purse and pork dumplings today, super fragrant! (Image: A plate of round dumplings)"

"The wintersweet in the park downstairs has bloomed, it's so fragrant, I can smell it even through my mask."

"Potato chips are on sale at the supermarket today, buy one get one free, what a steal! (Image: Two big bags of potato chips)"

Of course, the response I get is most likely a long silence, or a late, aloof "Oh".

It doesn't matter, I'll send mine.

Feeling like I'm really a great person, can't bear to see a classmate being lonely, desolate, and cold.

Days slid to New Year's Eve amidst Mom's feeding and my harassment.

Mom pulled out all the stops and made a big table of dishes—chicken, duck, fish, meat—all with great color, aroma, and taste, laid out fully on the table, just for the two of us to eat.

I looked at those dishes, then looked at Mom's expectant eyes, and felt that I had gained at least five pounds since coming home!

Mom's love is truly a sweet and heavy burden.

Outside the window, firecrackers started to sound sporadically, and the lively Spring Festival Gala was playing on TV.

I sat in the warm and bright home, with Mom constantly putting food on my plate beside me, and my phone lying quietly on the table.

At this moment, my heart was filled with a solid sense of happiness.

Don't know if Chen Youhua has gone home.

Hmm... should I take a picture of the New Year's Eve dinner and send it to him?

Forget it, it's New Year's Eve, let him do his experiments quietly.

It's definitely not because I'm afraid he'll reply with another "Oh" and ruin the mood!