Her classmates laughed at her—was Wen Heng preparing to become a Buddha?
Ah Heng laughed and shook his head—No, no, this humble monk eats meat now, and he can't live without ribs at every meal.
Xin Dayi pricked up his ears; his nerve sensitivity was absolutely top-notch.
The sight of the shredded pork lit up my eyes—you're eating ribs now?!
Ah Heng smiled and said, "Yes, yes, I'm already feeling sour from eating it. If I wait two more days and feel nauseous, I'll never touch it again for the rest of my life."
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She procrastinated for three months, and the key still hadn't arrived in the US. Every week, she'd mop the floor, collect any forgotten items, and the next time, while wiping the table, she'd find something that belonged to her—it was a series of delightful surprises.
Siwan is shy, so she privately asked her when she planned to pay back the money after three months of procrastination.
Ah Heng squinted. Is Grandpa Yan in a hurry? Then I'll make a call to ask for instructions.
Siwan smiled bitterly, not daring to let Grandpa Yan know, or he would strangle Uncle Yan.
Although this major event was intended to fulfill a filial duty, fearing that taking the son to America would be too much for the elderly to bear, in Grandpa Yan's eyes, it showed that he was worried about his grandson but also suspected his son. Uncle Yan's crime was serious; he was simply despicable. If the Emperor Emeritus got angry and then fell ill, they, the younger generation, would also be considered despicable.
Ah Heng smiled and said, "So, just let me take my time."
Siwan was puzzled. Who did this little rascal resemble? Suddenly, she remembered the old saying about couples looking alike. It was like a bolt from the blue, shocking her to death.
He hesitated and hesitated, deliberated and deliberated again—you really don't want to go see Yan hope? He's so thin now, just skin and bones, he can't eat, and he's vomited many times…
In the end, she couldn't continue speaking, and her eyes welled up with tears.
Ah Heng looked at him and calmly said, "Do you want to cry? You've been holding back for so long, isn't it hard?"
Wen Siwan was always the most resolute yet the most affectionate.
Countless methods, good or bad, were used, all for one person.
Firstly, she would snatch Lin Wanwan away from that person, and then casually let him discover it. Out of brotherly affection, that person would inevitably give up. Secondly, she would maintain contact with Lu Liu, subtly mentioning that the person had a woman he liked—ideally named Wen Heng—to prevent any potential trouble. Thirdly, if she wasn't mistaken, he might also have some thoughts about keeping that person in the hospital, and by his side for life.
If Da Yi hadn't spent so much time by Si Wan's side and hadn't seen through her so clearly, someone as naive as her wouldn't have been able to guess such scheming tactics.
Even today, he continues to endure hardship, truly doing what others would not do and what others could not do, something she herself admires.
Siwan lowered her eyes—I have no regrets.
Ah Heng smiled, revealing eight teeth, with a gentle and refined demeanor—this was the best way.
The old piano is still downstairs, covered in dust and long since dilapidated.
Every time I clean the room, it's such an eyesore.
"Siwan, lend a hand and carry the piano back to the attic."
Siwan glanced at the piano, somewhat surprised—wasn't this the one Yanxi bought when he was learning piano? It's been so many years, why is it still here? Shouldn't it have been sold as scrap long ago?
Yes, not only was it not sold, but it could also play "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" and "Waltz," though unfortunately it was an off-key version.
Ah Heng rarely goes to the attic because it's too messy. It's mostly filled with that person's childhood toys: Transformers, racing cars, tricycles, and his supposedly failed paintings.
After carrying the piano upstairs, we had to tidy it up a bit, otherwise there wouldn't be enough room for one piano.
The whole place was a mess, full of smoke and dust, which made Ah Heng Si Wan cough incessantly.
She squatted down to tidy up the drawing papers. One of them was under the wheel of the tricycle. After finally moving the tricycle, she found a painting covered with a black cloth on the back of the vehicle.
It was hidden very well.
It truly lives up to its reputation as that person's little doghouse; if she hadn't been so meticulous in tidying it up, she would never have imagined that even the small attic was a winding, mountainous path.
When the black cloth was lifted, my eyes were instantly stung.
Half light, half darkness.
One half is as bright as gold brocade, shining with holy light; the other half is as black as ink, desolate and broken.
Half of it is the rising sun, and the other half is the waning moon.
In the light, a pair of hands stretch out, warm and soft, with clearly defined knuckles and slight calluses, fingers spread open, facing the darkness. In the darkness, there is another pair of hands, slightly larger and colder, carrying the mist of darkness, about to disappear, yet striving to join the warm hands, hoping, slowly drawing closer, just one step away, without a gap.
In the bottom right corner, there is a handwriting that is all too familiar—Chaoyang (rising sun).
The note below reads: "If Van Gogh and Ah Heng had eaten the last piece of bread together, they would have starved to death together, but they wouldn't have committed suicide."
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grandfather,
This is the first and last time I'm writing to you, God help me.
Grandpa, these days, I have been trying my best to be a member of the Wen family as you instructed: selfless in public, selfish in private; strong in public, crying in private; suffering losses in public, making up for them in private; smart in public, still smart in private...
My granddaughter is slow-witted. She pondered for more than three months but still couldn't understand its meaning, and she felt very ashamed.
Throughout his life, the person Grandpa hated most was Yan hope. He almost ruined Si Wan, whom Grandpa had painstakingly nurtured. Fortunately, Yan Xi left Si Wan. However, now, the granddaughter observes that her brother has not distanced himself from Yan Xi, which is truly a betrayal of Grandpa. Knowing she is an unworthy descendant of the Wen family, the granddaughter is willing to take Yan Xi away to save her brother and spare Si Wan from the torment of this man whose "beauty brings misfortune to his parents."
Yan hope's appearance is unusual, while his granddaughter's looks are ordinary. Being with him conveniently diminishes his good looks. Yan Xi was unloved by his parents from a young age, and at only fifteen, he was brutally murdered with no one to turn to for help. He suffered from hysteria twice in his life, and medicine was ineffective. He was truly unfortunate. His granddaughter, on the other hand, had a loving adoptive mother in her childhood and a loving birth mother in her adulthood. Her daily life is smooth and fulfilling; she is a truly blessed person, and perhaps some of her good fortune can be shared with her. Yan Xi's birth mother suffered a difficult childbirth and was saved several times, which undoubtedly brought misfortune to his parents. However, his granddaughter taking Yan Xi away this time is beneficial to the Wen family. While it may not be a blessing for his parents, it can at least mitigate some of Yan hope's sins. What does Grandpa think?
From now on, Grandpa will not need to search for his granddaughter. She will drop out of school. Since she has no good future, she will not dare to call herself a descendant of the Wen family when she is out in the world. This will not damage Grandpa's reputation. Please rest assured, Grandpa.
As long as Yan hope's illness persisted, his granddaughter would not return home. The granddaughter was simple-minded and could not be distracted; she could only do this one thing for an eternity.
Even if making a living is difficult, and one day we can no longer survive, I will make sure that my granddaughter and Yan hope starve to death together, and I will never let him bring harm to others.
Unfilial granddaughter Wen Heng
August
Chapter 49
When Ah Heng went to pick up that person, her grandfather caught her red-handed.
The old man, his face ashen, glared at her for a long time at the hospital entrance.
He was furious and wanted to throw the letter at her, only saying one sentence: "This is the good granddaughter I raised!"
Siwan winked at him from the side.
Ah Heng pursed her lips and smiled—Grandpa, are you angry with me?
Old Wen glanced at Siwan beside him, a nameless anger rising in his heart. Ah Heng was so obedient, yet she could write such a threatening and heartless letter; it was definitely related to this brat's despicable intentions.
If it weren't for Siwan, how could I have unintentionally driven my granddaughter into such a dead end?
He had ulterior motives, wanting Yan hope to stay away from Si Wan, but he didn't mean any harm. Yet, in his granddaughter's eyes, he was utterly wicked. Children are simple-minded and, without adult guidance, they've twisted things; it was never his intention.
Besides, the child has already made his point clear in the letter...
"You go home first," the old man said to Siwan after thinking for a moment.
Siwan felt embarrassed, touched her nose, glanced at Aheng worriedly, and obediently left.
"Are you really planning to play this game with your grandfather, running away from home with Yan hope?" Old Master Wen sighed as he watched Si Wan walk away. Looking at his granddaughter's features, which bore a five-tenths resemblance to his deceased wife, his tone softened.
Ah Heng pouted and said, "Grandpa only dotes on Si Wan anyway, and doesn't like me. It's good that I can keep Yan hope company, so I won't get in your way."
This childlike behavior was something she had never shown in front of Old Man Wen before. After all, she was his own flesh and blood, and his grandchild. The old man almost laughed as he listened.
But he actually laughed and scolded, "If I really didn't care about you, you wouldn't be able to scare your grandfather with a letter!"
Ah Heng smiled, with a hint of ingratiation—"I never intended to scare Grandpa; I really am going to take Yan hope away."
Old Master Wen sneered, "You're truly filial!"
Ah Heng just smiled and nodded, looking a little embarrassed.
When she wrote that letter, she envisioned a win-win situation from the very beginning. Although for a fleeting moment she had the thought of sharing the last piece of bread with Yan Xi, even if it meant starving to death, she couldn't bear the hardship she endured. How could Yan hope, who had been pampered since childhood, possibly endure it?
"Forget it, forget it. We old folks must have owed you little brats something in our past lives." Old Wen sighed, both amused and exasperated. "I'll find someone to handle Xiao hope's discharge procedures in a bit. I'll talk to the Yan family. You go and take him home."
Ah Heng's eyes sparkled.
The old man sighed and patted his granddaughter's head with a smile—"You've been holding the Yan family's key for three months and haven't returned it. Do you really think your grandpa is senile?"
Ah Heng was a little embarrassed, and smiled, her fair face showing a rare hint of awkwardness.
Old Wen straightened his expression and spoke earnestly to Aheng: "Since you chose this path, there's no turning back if you regret it, understand?"
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When she went to pick up Yan hope, all she could see was white, and it looked like her eyes were really hurting.
Three months is no short time. Her campaign, which involved three months of maneuvering and patience, finally ended in a major victory.
Leaning out the window, I saw that person lying on the white hospital bed, soft and clean, curled up, fast asleep.
On the index finger of his left hand, a seven-linked ring was hooked, silver in color, gleaming with a bright yet desolate light in the sunlight.
She could almost see the black hair, scattered by the sunlight, behind her.
I went inside. There was a glass of water and a handful of pills on the bedside table—white, black, and brown.
This is really bad; none of these are his favorite colors. I wonder if he usually eats them properly.
His breathing was light, quiet, and serene.
She grasped his right hand, thumb, index finger, and middle finger, gently bringing them together, then shifting them slightly, gripping them tightly, their fingers intertwined.
The veins were already visible, and the bones were thin and painful to the touch.
He has lost a lot of weight.
The scars left by the cactus have turned into thin, dark lines, somewhat grotesque.
This is quite inconsistent with the views of Van Gogh.
Therefore, life cannot be based on assumptions. If we make assumptions and predict the outcome, even if everyone is happy, there will always be a slight flaw.
She looked at him quietly, a little tired.
There is no day or night; the patient is constantly injected with medication and sleeps incessantly, unable to even dream.
Yan hope, have you ever... thought about Aheng...?
She gently shook him, but the sleeping man was difficult to wake up due to the effects of the medicine.
She gently lifted him up, letting him lean against her, embracing him with both arms, and softly patting his hair, her fingers warm and gentle.