Feng Shui

Chapitre 6

The market in the wilderness was brightly lit and bustling with people. All kinds of goods were on display, and the cries of vendors filled the air. Although it was just an ordinary market, the dark blue sky and the howling wind in the wilderness gave it a strange and fantastical feel.

"Madam..." The old butler, who had been following closely behind his mistress, finally couldn't help but speak up. Having served the Leng family for decades, he knew Madam Leng's temperament inside and out. If she wanted to do something, she would do it, and she would do it no matter what method she used! He knew that a servant shouldn't be nosy, but the more they walked through the market, the more suspicious it seemed. Even he, a seasoned veteran who had seen many big scenes, felt something was amiss. Madam Leng, however, seemed determined to achieve her goal at all costs. If he didn't dissuade her, things might get bad—although, it might not be effective!

"We've arrived." Madam Leng stopped her brisk pace and raised her head with elegance and arrogance to look at the shop in front of her.

Madam Leng was just over fifty years old, but her excellent maintenance made her look no more than thirty-five or thirty-six. Her skin was still smooth and elastic, with only a few inconspicuous fine lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth, which were almost impossible to notice unless you looked closely. Her figure had become slightly plump, but due to her tall stature and the support of a well-fitting black silk satin cheongsam with a rose-colored peony pattern and three-quarter sleeves, describing her as graceful would not be an exaggeration. Her slender legs were paired with exquisite white satin shoes, along with a pearl necklace and earrings. Her hair was neatly tied up, exuding a cold and noble aura, a gentle beauty with a touch of majesty, making her extremely eye-catching. That kind of presence could only be cultivated by a family with generations of illustrious ancestors.

"Welcome to Jiechi Silk Shop. Feel free to browse around." The young shopkeeper, dressed in a refined blue long gown, greeted them before bending down to check the accounts. His slender, fair fingers moved swiftly across the abacus, making a clicking sound.

"How incredibly rude of this young man!" The old steward immediately felt a sense of displeasure towards the young shop owner. He didn't act like a proper businessman at all, giving customers a perfunctory greeting and then ignoring them. The Leng family of Suzhou was a nationally renowned silk merchant family; any one of their stores was far more impressive than this small silk shop. The old steward's temper flared instantly at the thought that this young man was so ignorant of their place.

Just as he was about to lash out, he received a seemingly casual glance from Madam Leng. With that single glance, she understood his meaning, and the old butler lowered his hands and returned to his original position.

Madam Leng casually browsed through the room full of silks and satins: brocade, silk, satin, plain silk, white silk, gauze, damask... Though small, it had everything one needed. Even she couldn't help but marvel at the abundance of goods in this tiny silk shop, which surpassed even the warehouse of her Leng family headquarters. However, despite the impressive collection, there was nothing she wanted.

"Excuse me, sir, does your shop have any other samples?" Madam Leng asked with a smile. Her smile was one of nobility, carrying unparalleled arrogance and aristocratic air.

"May I ask what kind of lady you would like?" the young shopkeeper asked, putting down his ledger.

"To be honest, sir, my son is getting married next month, and as his mother-in-law, I'd like to make a new dress for my future daughter-in-law as a gift. Do you have any suitable fabric? Price doesn't matter, just bring it to me." Madam Leng's words were perfectly appropriate, and the image of a kind and loving mother-in-law was practically revealed.

The shopkeeper pondered for a moment, then slowly said, "There is indeed such a horse. Please come with me into the inner room to take a look, Madam." After speaking, he lifted the curtain separating the inner room and waited for Madam Leng to come over.

"Wait for me here," Madam Leng instructed the butler in a loud voice, nodded slightly, and walked through the curtain.

The curtain falls, separating two worlds.

"Do you really have that kind of fabric here?" Madam Leng asked in a trembling voice. Once inside the room, she seemed like a different person. Her noble demeanor remained, but she was now filled with an impatient panic.

The young shop owner poured her a cup of tea and placed it in front of her. He then opened the mahogany cabinet and took out an item wrapped in kraft paper, unfolding it layer by layer.

"Madam, please take a look!"

As the last layer of parchment was peeled away, what appeared before Madam Leng's eyes was a piece of mirror-patterned silk that shimmered with seven-colored light. It was painted with a hundred flowers, peacocks, auspicious grasses, clouds, and cranes. The peacocks were preening their feathers, the cranes were spreading their wings, the flowers were in full bloom, and the greenery was lush. Whether in motion or still, everything was so lifelike and captivating that Madam Leng was stunned and speechless for a long time before finally asking, "Can this fabric truly fulfill my wish?"

The young shopkeeper smiled slightly and deftly wrapped the kraft paper in layers of colorful silk: "Of course, Madam's wish is yours, and it will be fulfilled once this fabric is worn by your daughter-in-law. Bomei Collection never disappoints its customers. Please take this." The thick kraft paper felt heavy in Madam Leng's hands as it was handed to her, and she felt a sense of relief.

"May I ask how much you are asking for, sir?" Madam Leng opened her handbag and pulled out a book, which was a checkbook.

"It's a rare treat to meet Madam Leng, the renowned matriarch of the Leng family. Our humble shop is already more than ready to welcome her; how could we possibly accept her money?"

Madam Leng raised the corners of her mouth: "Let's not beat around the bush. Which business owner would willingly lose money? Do you want my Leng family's orders, or do you want fame, power, or something else?"

The shopkeeper still smiled, bowed deeply, and said respectfully, "Madam Leng, I am not joking. This piece of cloth is just a junior's tribute. I would never dare to accept a single penny from you for the ruler."

After a moment of silence, Madam Leng took out a pen, hastily scribbled on the checkbook, tore it up, placed it under her teacup, picked up the fabric, and turned to leave.

The young shopkeeper picked up the thin piece of paper, shook his head, and casually tossed it into the trash can. The check bore Madam Leng's signature, but the amount field was blank…

"Boss, I'd like to buy a few feet of cloth," a simply dressed woman called out timidly at the door.

"They're here!" The ruler lifted the curtain and went out to greet them in the outer hall.

On the cold television screen, an expressionless news anchor was reporting: "Around 3 PM this afternoon, a bizarre case of spontaneous combustion occurred at the Leng family residence. The deceased was Luo Yujuan, the newlywed wife of Leng Gang, the next heir to the Leng family fortune. Leng Gang was also burned while trying to save his wife, and died en route to the hospital due to the severity of his injuries. Leng Song Qingdie, the head of the Leng family, has been taken to the hospital for treatment. It is reported that Leng Song Qingdie's injuries are not serious, but due to the loss of her beloved son, she is currently in a very unstable emotional state... According to experts, Luo Yujuan's spontaneous combustion may be related to the chemical composition of her clothing. Experts say that the recent dry weather requires caution with chemical fiber products... The Chinese silk industry will face restructuring..."

The cool sunlight shone through the iron grille, barely bringing a touch of warmth to the small room.

"Madam Leng, dinner is ready." The nurse in pink pushed open the door, carrying a tray and a medicine box.

Leng Song Qingdie sat on the edge of the bed, her hair disheveled and her clothes in disarray. Rolls of silk were wrapped around her body and hands, making her look like a silk doll. She sat quietly amidst the colorful silk, her eyes vacant, a smile on her lips, a smile that was still so noble, yet lifeless.

The nurse shook her head, put down the tray, gently closed the door, and left.

"Gang'er, my Gang'er..." she murmured, stroking the fabric in her hands. "Mommy is here with you. Mommy loves Gang'er the most. Mommy will always be with you. No one can take my Gang'er away. No one can..."

Chapter Five Dancing Grass

Name: Huaxu Gender: Female Age: Appearance: 26 or 27

Occupation: Flower shop owner; Address: No. 133, Beixu Lane, Bomeiji

When a person reaches old age, they often feel lost because they are suddenly freed from their busy work. Their existing lifestyle habits are completely disrupted. They didn't have time to do what they wanted to do when they were young, but now they have plenty of time but don't know how to spend it. Nostalgia, therefore, becomes a unique form of entertainment for the elderly.

Whom did you like in your youth? What regrets did you have? What did you miss out on? When sitting alone in the courtyard watering flowers and basking in the sun, it's inevitable to reflect on your life. Every little detail seems to need to be reviewed and savored. And those sweet and sour feelings, far from fading with time in old age, become even more vivid in your mind. That's why we often hear things like, "If only I had done this or that back then," which is called regret. What if, if life could be lived again?

Grandma Fang is seventy-five years old this year, still in relatively good health, with a harmonious family and a successful career. Looking back on her life, she became a professor at a prestigious university at a young age, received a national-level scientific research honor medal in middle age, and by retirement, her academic achievements had become indelible milestones. The fact that she had nurtured countless students also brought her teaching career to a perfectly fulfilling close. Her husband had doted on her for decades, her children were very filial, and her family's living conditions were considered comfortable. From every perspective, her life seemed complete and happy. However, Grandma Fang always had an unresolved issue in her heart. This regret was something she had never told anyone, never shown it in public, and hadn't even thought about for a long time. Unexpectedly, this regret, buried deep for decades, had become increasingly prominent, finally bothering her, to the point that her husband occasionally noticed and inquired with concern. Of course, Grandma Fang had never told anyone about this, the deepest and greatest secret buried in the heart of the young Fang Yanshu—a dream from her teenage years.

Grandma Fang came from a privileged background; her father was the dean of studies at a prestigious private school, and her mother, though not from a prominent family, was well-educated and sensible. One can imagine the outstanding children such parents would raise. And indeed, young Fang Yanshu grew up to be a healthy and upright pillar of the nation, just as her parents had hoped. During the most rebellious period of fifteen or sixteen years old, Fang Yanshu remained obedient and well-behaved. Under her father's guidance, she set her future goal that year: to become a future pillar of the physics community! No one knew that what young Fang Yanshu truly longed for at that time was not the honor bestowed by the state, but simply a pair of white ballet shoes costing one yuan and eight jiao; what she most wanted to become was not a leading figure in physics, but a ballet dancer. This small wish, barely sprouting, was shrouded in a veil of glamour, a veil that has remained for sixty years. Now, Grandma Fang most wants to realize this small dream in her heart, now dusty with the passing years. If she had chosen dancing back then, what would be different now? If... is there really such a thing as "if"?

Grandma Fang was puzzled. She had only gone to the park in the middle of the street, which was only a five-minute walk from her home, to exercise. How did she end up in this bustling market, and then wander around until she came to this glass-house flower shop? She couldn't understand why she had taken a liking to this ugly-looking black seed in her hand.

"This is called dancing grass."

That's what the pretty florist, who was about twenty-five or twenty-six, told her.

"If you are willing to share your life with the dancing grass, then it can share its body with you."

The pretty proprietress said this lightly while watering the plants.

"In other words, if you give half of your remaining lifespan to it, you can use its young body to do things you want to do but can't do otherwise."

Grandma Fang, who had dedicated her life to scientific research and never believed in superstitions, was swayed this time. Coupled with the shopkeeper's confident assertion that the seed was being given away for free, Grandma Fang, clutching the strange plant seed called "Dancing Grass," embarked on her journey home in no time. As the sun set, Grandma Fang looked back and, strangely, there was no trace of the market. Even after returning home, she continued to ramble on about how unbelievable it was, how time had passed, and other bizarre things, nearly prompting her husband to call an ambulance.

A miracle soon happened! Under Fang's diligent watering, the dancing grass sprouted on the second day, grew small leaves on the third day, and grew into a human shape with limbs and a torso on the fourth day. From the fifth day onwards, Fang disappeared during the day, and the young girl Fang Yanshu once again stepped onto the stage of life.

"Grandma, a new student transferred to our class, and she's so pretty!" Grandma Fang's granddaughter, who attends an amateur ballet class, occasionally mentioned the transfer student when she visited her.

"Honey, why are you rarely home during the day lately?" The old man, who was still contributing his remaining energy at the senior university, complained a little because no one answered his phone when he called home.

"Teacher Fang, a new student recently transferred to the dance class. The girl is very talented at dancing, and her demeanor has a touch of the aristocratic air of people from the past. It's really quite remarkable!" The ballet teacher of her granddaughter's class was one of Grandma Fang's students, and the topic of the transfer student came up when she visited Grandma Fang.

"Mom, you look much better lately. Is there something good?" The daughter-in-law brought some clothes for young girls for Grandma Fang. Although she was curious, she was still happy for Grandma Fang's good health.

"Honey, it's raining so hard outside, why are you still leaving the clothes out to dry in the rain?" The old man said helplessly, picking up the dripping wet clothes, intending to wash them again.

Grandma Fang looked at the old man with a smile, but her mind was already on the ballet moves she had learned that day.

As time went by, everyone felt that Old Mrs. Fang had become a bit strange. She was never seen during the day, and no one knew what she was thinking at night. She was mysterious all the time. Her children thought that she was not used to retirement, so they tried to make her happy in various ways. They sent her piles of flowers, birds, fish and insects, but Old Mrs. Fang did not mind. She still smiled and acted like a young girl, Fang Yanshu, every day.

On the day of the ballet class's graduation performance, Fang Yanshu, with her outstanding dance skills and unparalleled elegance, won the opportunity to play the lead role in "Swan Lake." Fang Yanshu changed into a noble black tutu, adorned with black feathers in her head, exuding a noble and haughty aura, radiating both alluring charm and youthful innocence. The Black Swan received thunderous applause from the audience upon her entrance. During the scene where Odette seduces the prince, requiring 30 spins of whipping willow branches, Fang Yanshu effortlessly spun on one foot, the lights flashing and the audience erupting in applause. On the 23rd, 24th, and 25th spin, the young Fang Yanshu suddenly swayed slightly. This slight sway went unnoticed by the audience. The Black Swan continued spinning, and on the 30th spin, Odette stopped, covered her face, and gracefully exited the stage, leaving behind a bewildered prince and thousands of spectators. The enigmatic beauty vanished from that moment, adding an unsolved mystery to the ballet world.

Grandma Fang only heard about the various accounts of the mysterious beautiful girl incident later. On the day of the ballet performance, the entire Fang family went to watch, only to have their performance canceled because their granddaughter, Fang Li, played a little swan among the swans. Afterward, the lead actress disappeared. The Fang family returned home, discussing the matter, only to find Grandma Fang fast asleep in bed. The potted plants on the windowsill had been blown away by the wind, the pots broken, the soil scattered, and the plants dead. Fearing that Grandma Fang would be saddened, her children bought a bunch of flowers and plants to show their respect to their mother.

Grandma Fang didn't mind at all and happily accepted them all. After that, Grandma Fang returned to her old self. The old man no longer had to worry about no one bringing in the laundry on rainy days, and the children no longer had to rack their brains every day to think of ways to amuse their mother. However, when the children and her husband were out, Grandma Fang would sit alone in the courtyard watering the flowers and basking in the sun. Occasionally, she would take out a pair of white ballet shoes and look at them with a smile. If you looked closely, you would see that look was undoubtedly that of the young Fang Yanshu.

Chapter Six Play

Name: Lao Shou Gender: Male Age: Appearance: Over sixty

Occupation: Theater doorman; Address: No. 55-58, Nanshudun, Bomei Town

Is the end of the fall hell or heaven?

Jiang Xuewei felt he was wandering through the market, like a lost soul. He couldn't remember what had happened in the past three minutes, but three minutes ago, he had probably jumped from the prestigious science and technology building that his school was so proud of. What happened afterward was unclear to him. He seemed to have just been jolted awake from a nap, or perhaps he had simply been daydreaming for a moment? When he realized it, he was already in this bustling market, where strangely dressed merchants seemed to have sprung up from the ground, hawking oddities he had never heard of or seen before. Of course, there were also many he recognized, like the rocket launcher the fat man was carrying.

According to common sense, anything that cannot be explained should be categorized as abnormal or inhuman. Selling rocket launchers = breaking the law = jail time, execution, so this place must be abnormal. Adding the suicide incident three minutes ago, the conclusion is that this is not the human world! The question is, is this hell or heaven? Should we consider it according to Eastern concepts or should we apply Western religious models to judge it?

Jiang Xuewei simply crossed his arms and began to stroll leisurely through the market. To be honest, he himself felt that he was being a little too calm. After all, not many people would make a detailed list of their personal belongings and their distribution for their families before jumping off a building, and not many people would have the leisure to wander around this market after a near-death experience!

Jiang Xuewei remembered the evaluations of his teachers: "Excellent grades, mature beyond his years." These eight words appeared on his report cards twice a year for the past eighteen years without exception. He also remembered the high praise from his classmates' parents: "Look at Jiang Xuewei, so young yet so mature and sensible, good grades, good at sports, not to mention his work ability. Why don't you learn from him?!" He also remembered... Oh no, he slapped his forehead, forgetting that in the farewell letter at the scene—he didn't like to call it a suicide note, it sounded like he had forgotten something on the roof of the thirty-fifth floor. For someone like him who never forgot anything, big or small, this was undoubtedly a blunder—leaving behind a reliable defense for his parents.

A bright and academically excellent student, upon receiving an acceptance letter from a top university for a preferred subject—a subject he had chosen—contemplated suicide after graduating high school. It's easy to guess what kind of unsubstantiated reports would point to: academic pressure leading to a mental breakdown—the story of Fan Jin passing the imperial examination; a withdrawn personality ultimately resulting in melancholy—the topic of depression is currently very popular; heartbreak in love, setbacks in friendship? Unfortunately, he left behind a farewell letter that refuted all of these possibilities!

Heavy pressure? He reads for no more than four hours a day. Introverted? He's always smiling and often tells others that laughter makes you younger. Heartbroken? Everyone knows he has a beautiful and well-behaved girlfriend, one of the best by peer and even societal standards. Frustrated friendships? Jiang Xuewei isn't a rigid, old-fashioned model student; he fights, skips classes, plays Counter-Strike, and seemingly this makes him more popular with girls, though he doesn't do those things for that purpose. Everything that can be written has been blocked by him, so what's left? A broken family!

Unfortunately, although Jiang Xuewei didn't feel much about his parents' divorce a week ago, this became the perfect opportunity for reporters to swarm him. Thinking of this, Jiang Xuewei couldn't help but sigh. Well, he had saved his parents so much trouble over the years, it was time for them to face the troubles brought by their children. Otherwise, they might not even know whether they had ever had children or not.

From the time Jiang Xuewei could remember, his father, who held two doctorates and worked at a research institute, and his mother, a smart, beautiful, elegant, and noble businesswoman, never treated him like a child. Sometimes he was the one discussing things with his father; other times, he was the negotiating partner with his mother. Clearly, in their hearts, he was always treated as an adult, from beginning to end! It seems this will become another topic for hype—"Elite Education, Forcing Growth: A Thought-Provoking Idea," he sketched out such a title in his mind, grinning with a mocking smile.

So why did he commit suicide? He asked himself this question, the only one he didn't understand. He possessed everything others desired: a bright future and limitless prospects, a privileged family background, and a successful love life. What more could Jiang Xuewei possibly want? Was he dissatisfied? He frowned, thinking. Hmm, there was indeed a possibility that excessive satisfaction could lead to seeking thrills through crime or suicide to alleviate boredom. Perhaps this reason was more plausible in convincing himself. He clenched his fist and tapped his other palm. While it didn't bring sudden enlightenment, it at least provided a superficially plausible reason. Seeking precise answers to everything was his consistent approach, including his own suicide; he wouldn't allow any exceptions.

Turning the corner, a two-story building came into view. Jiang Xuewei approached with a hint of curiosity. At the entrance was a small pavilion, inside which sat an old man, dressed in a crisply starched dark blue Zhongshan suit, wearing purple-black square-rimmed glasses, engrossed in a newspaper. Such a person could be found in the gatehouse of any state-owned enterprise, yet Jiang Xuewei found it strange. His logic was precise and rigorous: in a market teeming with oddities, the appearance of a seemingly normal person meant that the normal was probably the most abnormal; therefore, the old man = abnormal = unknown.

"Ahem." Jiang Xuewei cleared his throat, drawing the old man's attention.

The old man put down his newspaper, looked him up and down in the way that old people often look at people through their glasses, waved for him to go in, and Jiang Xuewei actually went in. Knowing when to advance and when to retreat was one of Jiang Xuewei's excellent skills.

Passing through the lobby, which resembled an abandoned factory, Jiang Xuewei saw a narrow door with a heavy, dark blue curtain hanging from a horizontal bar above it. This scene should have been familiar; over the years, Jiang Xuewei's brain had developed a habit of automatically searching for uncertain things. Half a minute later, he concluded: lobby + building + blue curtain = 1980s movie theater.

Jiang Xuewei lifted the curtain and ducked inside, his vision immediately going black. After his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw an empty theater with a large stage covered by a dark red curtain, much like the auditorium in his elementary school. There was no one on stage yet, so it probably wasn't time for the performance to start. Jiang Xuewei looked around and, by the light from the stage lights, he could see a few people scattered throughout the audience—young people, old people, middle-aged people—people of all ages, but mostly young people. Some were constantly watching the stage, some were nervously fidgeting with their chair armrests, some had their legs propped up on the chairs in front of them, and a girl was putting on makeup with a flashlight. Jiang Xuewei found an empty seat in the middle, towards the back corner, and sat down next to a middle-aged man in his fifties.

After waiting for two minutes, a semi-transparent white curtain slowly descended from above the stage, revealing people moving about inside. Jiang Xuewei had never seen anything like it before; to put it simply, it was like a live-action version of shadow puppetry. The actors busily ran back and forth on the stage behind the curtain, and after a whistle blew, they quickly assembled in a neat row, bowed respectfully, and signaled the start of the performance.

First, a man appears, dressed in a military green cotton shirt and dark blue trousers, carrying an old-fashioned military bag. Jiang Xuewei draws his first conclusion: this story takes place in the early days of the People's Republic of China. Next, a woman appears, dressed in a blue floral cotton shirt and brown trousers, sitting on a long bench with the man, smiling seriously. Jiang Xuewei draws his second conclusion: these two are married. Following normal logic, the characters appearing at the beginning are only supporting characters; Jiang Xuewei guesses the play is about their child. Ten minutes later, the supporting man, holding his child, dances joyfully in a simply furnished brick house, confirming Jiang Xuewei's guess.

"Xiaoli, Xiaoli, what do you think we should name our child?"

"Old Jiang, look how happy you are. Sit down quickly so you don't hurt the child."

"Do you think it's better for our child to be a factory worker or a teacher in the future?"

"No matter what, I hope he will achieve something in the future. Old Jiang, how about we name the child Jiang Xuewei?"

Jiang Xuewei was taken aback. He looked at the two actors more closely and found that they did indeed resemble his parents in some way. So, this story was about him? He thought to himself, "I've heard that after a person dies, their entire life flashes before their eyes. So, he's seeing his life before he dies?" He smiled and found it quite interesting, but he didn't quite understand why the other people in the theater were watching his life.

The lights dimmed and then brightened again, the scene shifting to a school with signs that read "Study hard and strive for excellence." Jiang Xuewei saw many children in white shirts and green scarves, hunched over their desks, writing stroke by stroke. Only one child sat in the last row, his neck bare, busy tying the braids of the girl in front of him to his chair. Jiang Xuewei scanned back and forth, searching for his childhood self. Based on his judgment, it should be the three stripes in the middle of the third column from the left.

"Jiang Xuewei!" The teacher put down his textbook and called out, "Jiang Xuewei!" His tone became even more forceful.

The three stripes on his forehead raised his head to look at the teacher, but he didn't stand up. Jiang Xuewei's memories of his elementary school days were vague; he only remembered that he had excellent grades and won many awards. However, he remembered his teachers clearly. The one with his hair tucked behind his ears and clipped with a black hair clip was Ms. Luo, who taught Chinese. In his memory, Ms. Luo was very kind to him.

"Jiang Xuewei!" Teacher Luo slammed his fist on the desk in anger.

"Here, here, here!" To Jiang Xuewei's surprise, the one who stood up was the naughty boy who sat in the last row. His hands were black, and his clothes were covered in mud. He looked silly.

Jiang Xuewei rarely showed a surprised expression. The one with three stripes wasn't him? The one who looked like a bad student was actually him? Was the acting wrong, or did he remember wrong?

As the play continues, the teacher visits the family with a report card showing a zero score.

"Your son Jiang Xuewei is really..." Teacher Luo looked very troubled.

The actor playing Jiang's father has changed. A slender and steady middle-aged man has appeared. Unlike his usual serious expression in real life, he has a soft smile on his face: "Hehe, I'm sorry to trouble you with this, teacher. My child is actually quite smart, just naughty and disobedient." As he speaks, he affectionately rubs Jiang Xuewei's dirty hair.

"Oh, Teacher Luo is here," said Mrs. Jiang, who had just returned from get off work, carrying a shopping basket with some vegetables and a few eggs. "My son Xuewei has troubled you again, hasn't he? Come, come, let's have dinner together before you leave. Old Jiang, really, you don't even make Teacher Luo a cup of sugar water when she comes all this way?"

"Yes, madam, I'll go right away." Father Jiang saluted and went inside with young Jiang Xuewei, who was playfully bickering all the way.

Jiang Xuewei stared wide-eyed, trying desperately to see. Was this his home? Were those two his parents? Was that the dirty little child himself? Weren't his parents always so respectful and loving? When had they ever been so lively and bustling? Wasn't he always an excellent student? How could he have gotten a zero on the exam, and the teacher even made a home visit? As a student council leader, Jiang Xuewei had never looked down on struggling students, but he also disliked them. How could he, a gifted student, be that mischievous, academically challenged, and stupid kid? It was all a charade! His emotions surged again, this time with anger! Jiang Xuewei decided to leave the theater. He tried to stand up from his chair, but strangely, he couldn't get up no matter how many times he tried. Jiang Xuewei panicked a little. He braced his hands against the hard seat, trying to sit up, but after a while, it was still no use.

"Let me out!" Jiang Xuewei shouted, his emotions turning to fear. "Aren't I going to die? I don't want to see anymore!"

No one paid him any attention. The people sitting in the theater were hidden in darkness, with only the light shining through the white curtains onto their faces, giving them a bluish-white hue. Jiang Xuewei let go in frustration, sighed deeply, and was forced to look down again.

The scene changes again. The little girl with her braided hair is wearing a rare, pretty floral dress and is walking home with Xiao Jiang Xuewei. Xiao Jiang Xuewei keeps kicking small stones and casually pulls out a slingshot to aim at the ground.

"Jiang Xuewei," the girl called softly, "can you please stop doing this?"

"Why can't I do this?" Xiao Jiang wiped his nose, looking like a rogue.