A group of teenagers on the basketball court burst into laughter.
Ah Heng = =.
Yan Xi, I heard the school history museum has been rebuilt. Let's go take a look. I think there are still some photos of you inside.
Ah Heng, how could you have me?
Yan hope smiled, "I have photos of every top scorer from the beginning of the school's founding."
Ah Heng was skeptical, but when she went to look, she found her photo on the second-to-last shelf inside the glass window.
Ah, this is it.
Ah Heng looked at the photo, rubbed his brow, and felt somewhat embarrassed.
It was during the winter of their senior year of high school, when he had just recovered from his illness. She bought a roasted sweet potato. Yan Xi, who never ate sweets, insisted on sharing it with her that day for some reason. He broke off half of it and was eating it when the homeroom teacher said that the whole school needed to take photos for information collection. Before he finished the sweet potato, he went to take the photos. When the photos came out, both of them had grown a beard.
Yan hope pointed at the photo and laughed, "Aheng, look! Actually, this is a group photo of us."
Ah Heng was puzzled and squinted. Behind her, there was a blurry figure wearing a school uniform, framed on the same plane, holding a bright yellow, uneaten sweet potato in its hand.
Back then, she seemed to have something easier to possess than she does now.
His eyes gleamed, and he bent down slightly, vigorously wiping the glass with his hand until the silly girl's face became clearer.
He examined it closely, as if pondering something he cherished. After a while, he smiled and said, "Ah Heng, you were incredibly naive back then. You believed everything people said, as long as they spoke in a Beijing accent more fluent than you."
He often teased her, saying things like, "Fourteen is fourteen, forty is forty, fourteen isn't forty, forty isn't fourteen, the bench is long, the carrying pole is wide..."
The silly girl grew up in the south and couldn't distinguish between flat and upturned noses. In the end, she looked up at the sky with her little face, wondering whether it was ten, forty, or forty-four.
Ah Heng sighed in frustration. "Yan hope, you're just hoping I won't be angry with you..."
Before she could finish speaking, he gently kissed the photo of that silly girl.
He kissed her forehead and prayed for their love to last forever.
He pointed at the man's nose in the photo and said, "Fool."
His smile was innocent; he was a fool, a silly little fool.
Ah Heng looked at him quietly, a pang of sadness in her heart. She wanted to say, "Yan hope, why do you always look back on your life?"
When I had Aheng, I couldn't let go of Lu Liu; when I had Lu Liu, I couldn't let go of Aheng; now that I have Aheng, I can't let go of the Aheng in my memory.
But how can one have it all, to live up to both the past and the present?
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It's the anniversary of Wen's father's death again.
Ah Heng always has nightmares when he sleeps, and the roar of an airplane taking off gradually becomes clearer.
Driven by the airflow, it soars towards heaven.
Dad, don't take the plane anymore, Mom won't let me. She'll scold me when we get back, Dad...
Tomorrow is your mom's birthday, and I haven't celebrated it with her in years. I have to go back this year and surprise her. Besides, silly girl, if you don't tell her and I don't tell her, how will your mom know?
Mom said absolutely not.
Tomorrow is your mother's birthday.
Mom said...
Alright, you two, whoever slips up first when we get back, we'll punish him—ah, punish him by banning him from entering the house for two years.
Okay, fine, pinky promise.
It's just kidding. Your dad is a man of his word, he keeps his promises. What's with the pinky promise? Haha, what a big surprise! Your mom will definitely be happy.
When Aheng opened her eyes, the morning sun was shining brightly.
The roar of the planes disappeared.
Touching my forehead, I found it was covered in sweat.
After changing into some fresh clothes, Yan hope went to the bathroom to brush her teeth, just as she walked in with dark circles under her eyes.
Ignoring her anger, he drank for half the night.
Ah Heng felt terrible, but what good would it do to say she hated Lu Liu? She could never bring herself to force him; she just wanted to see where she stood in his heart.
Ah Heng said, "Yan hope, you shouldn't drink alcohol anymore; it's bad for your health."
He splashed water on his face—nobody cares if Yan hope drinks, but people only watch when Yan Shuai's grandson drinks to save face.
Amidst the muffled sound of water, his voice was somewhat cold—"You're a girl, don't worry about these things."
Ah Heng said, "I didn't originally intend to care about you, but I saw on TV the other day that the number of people dying from hepatitis from drinking has increased by several times over the country. I'm afraid you'll die soon."
Yan hope lowered her head, water droplets hanging from her hair, and smiled softly. "Yesterday, yesterday, when I came back, I saw that there were still people selling candied hawthorns on the street, so I bought you a skewer. It's stuck in the glass on the coffee table. Go and eat it."
Ah Heng ran over. It was hot, and the sugar syrup had melted overnight, leaving the table covered in red tears.
She sighed inwardly, thinking that this fool, who lacked common sense, couldn't even learn how to care for others.
I took a bite, and it was so sour it made my teeth ache.
Yan hope frowned. "We can't eat this anymore. Let's throw it away."
Ah Heng shook her head. "It's rare for you to give me something as a gift."
His hand, which was holding a towel to wipe his face, froze. He turned his head away, and what he saw in his eyes was probably unseen by others.
He said, "Today is the anniversary of Uncle Wen's death. Come with me back to the Wen family home."
Ah Heng had a hawthorn stuck in her mouth, and it was so sour that tears streamed down her face.
Yan Xi took a tissue and pulled her into his arms.
Why are you crying? They don't like you. They're just confused. Uncle Wen is very perceptive. Of all the children in his family, you're the one he loves the most.
Ah Heng whispered, her eyes filled with tears like ice shards, painful and piercing. But this person who liked me was the one I killed.
Yan hope chuckled, "You're really honest. You didn't want the court to accept the case, so you confessed on your own."
He released her, looked into her eyes, and said calmly, "You took a plane, Uncle Wen had a heart attack, and now you're accused of murdering your father? Did you fly the plane?"
Ah Heng said, "I should persuade my dad not to fly."
"His eyes are big and bright," I don't understand that. Uncle Wen is a living, breathing person, and you're his daughter, how could you possibly control your father's legs? According to you, my mother had a difficult childbirth and almost died, so I should have committed suicide to atone for it after I was born. Your logic is excellent, no wonder she doesn't like me.
He knew where her heart was troubled. She didn't go back to the Wen family not because of her mother's scolding or because of the estrangement between her and her siblings, but because of the torment of her conscience and the inner turmoil she felt when she saw her father's memorial tablet.
He patted her back, smiled and sighed, revealing his white teeth. He said, "You can't hide in your heart forever, and you can't pretend to be strong. You have to live well and be the real Aheng in front of them, the Aheng in front of Yan hope. As for the rest, I will try my best, okay?"
Ah Heng nodded with a smile, but couldn't say anything.
These words of comfort were more precious to her than a thousand pieces of gold.
He was pale. "I'm so sorry, I can't take you against the whole world."
He couldn't give her enough love to give her the courage to stop caring about the Wen family.
Ah Heng looked at him, frowning slightly, and felt that his appearance had changed a lot since before.
Although it still looks the same, it feels like a bright sunflower has slowly withered, losing much of its vitality and pride, and it's irreversible.
Hmm, he doesn't seem like... Yan hope anymore.
Yan hope chuckled. Had he become even more handsome?
Ah Heng pursed her thin lips and chuckled. "You've lost that bright and cheerful air. I still prefer the way you were before, so unruly."
He held her tightly, closed his eyes, and softly said, "I don't care about anything else, as long as you don't collapse and can still stand in this world, I don't care about anything else."
The sound was a subtle vibration in the throat.
Hey, Yan hope, what's wrong with you?
Ah Heng found him inexplicable.
He took his hand, but smiled faintly and spoke seriously, "When we get to the Wen family, whatever I say, you should echo and respond. If the conversation flows smoothly, then we can talk about family ties. They miss you and feel guilty towards you. I can guess a bit about Siwan and Aunt Yunyi's thoughts."
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When we arrived at the Wen family home, Wen's mother and Zhang's wife were tidying up the folded paper ingots, stacking them up, and putting them in the car. Old Wen was sitting on the sofa, his head full of white hair, holding a piece of candy, feeding the little lark in the cage, without much emotion.
Siwan and Si'er, dressed in plain clothes, stood in front of the stairs, seemingly arguing about something. Siwan frowned, looking at Si'er with a mixture of helplessness and anger.
They turned around and saw Yan Xi and Aheng. Siwan smiled and said, "You're back."
Ah Heng was startled; he looked exactly like he did a few years ago when they had no grudges against each other.
Si'er snorted coldly and walked towards the door. When she got to Yan hope's side, she whispered a sarcastic remark in his right ear, "You should drink less. Working yourself to the bone like this, I wonder who will feel sorry for you."
Wen's mother's expression was also a bit stiff, but when she walked up to Yan hope, she sternly said, "So you finally remembered to come and see this old lady. Are you trying to take my daughter to the ends of the earth?"
Yan hope laughed loudly, "Auntie, if you were an old lady, where would Gong Li and Maggie Cheung go?"
Wen's mother pursed her lips and tapped his forehead, but couldn't help but smile; she had always been good at coaxing people since she was a child.
Yan hope glanced at A Heng, who chimed in, "Yes, Mom, you look so young, not an old lady at all."
Touching his nose, unable to think of anything else to say, he added sincerely, "Really."
Mother Wen laughed, pinched her nose, and softened her voice, "No, my daughter can't follow the most picky eater; she's too honest by nature."
Ah Heng lowered her head—Mom, you're not angry with me anymore.
Wen's mother looked at Yan hope. This child's smile was beautiful yet fleeting. Her heart ached. If only she had known this would happen!
She shook her head, hugged Aheng, and cried. "Mom isn't angry with you. Mom was wrong. I shouldn't have hit you, and I shouldn't have kept you from coming home. I've never blamed you for your father's actions. It's just that he always wanted you to be with the Gu family's child, and Mom wanted to fulfill his last wish."
She only revealed part of the reason, but left behind some dirty and sordid details, a tangled mess that she couldn't even unravel. Why should her daughter suffer because of those affairs between men?
She was not without resentment that her daughter had been switched at birth, but what could she do? To protect her family, what other good options did she have besides Aisier?
Ah Heng, from birth to adulthood, the days spent by her side were less than 360. When she was born, she had a red mole on her right wrist, which she remembered so clearly. When her father-in-law found the missing child again, the mole had inexplicably disappeared. As a mother, she was resentful and wanted to cry and make a scene, but what could she do in the face of her mother-in-law's pleading eyes and her husband's gloomy mood?
That year, she heard that the woman from the family two generations away, whose scandal was known to everyone in the Yan family, had died in childbirth, resulting in the deaths of both mother and child.
Her father-in-law looked at her, his sharp, unfathomable eyes like those of a hawk. He said, "Yunyi, you should smile. My Wen family has at least preserved a bit of its bloodline."
Her heart was ripped open, and she couldn't sleep at night, rocking Si'er's cradle over and over again, telling herself, "This is my daughter."
Fifteen years later, her little Aheng returned to her side with a red birthmark on her right hand, but her daughter was already Si'er.