Two others were also putting effort into making Lai Hui’s birthday special: Xie Jiayi and Lai Ruoyun. In previous years, Lai Hui celebrated her birthday in the hospital room, without cake, just two bowls of longevity noodles she personally cooked, feeding her mother with chopsticks, usually ending with her own noodles turning into mush. Thinking about this, tears welled up in Lai Ruoyun’s eyes as she said to Jiayi, “No matter what, you must take her out for her birthday this year. That child has wasted too many days on me. Look at her, getting older, and her best years have been spent on my sick body!”
Jiayi lifted his head from his documents. He hadn’t been able to contact Lai Hui these days; Aunt Ruoyun said she was away on business, but he knew better; Zhou Yuqian must have taken her somewhere. He couldn’t complain; he had taken over the daily hospital visits, rushing over after work to chat.
“You know she wouldn’t celebrate without you. And I wouldn’t do that either.”
“You two are really stubborn!” Lai Ruoyun gave him a sideways glance. “You think by doing this you’re showing filial piety? Watching her eat cold noodles breaks my heart. This year, just go out for her birthday, and come back to visit me in the evening!”
Before Jiayi could respond, she continued, “When you’re sick for a long time, there are no filial children. Little Hui has endured so much hardship taking care of me without a word of complaint. Even if she decides to stop caring for me now…”
“Don’t let her hear you say that, or she’ll be heartbroken again!” Jiayi interrupted, his face stern, disregarding seniority. He was inwardly annoyed; Aunt Ruoyun kept bringing this up, fearing that one day Lai Hui might truly abandon her, thus testing her repeatedly. He could empathize with a patient’s fear of abandonment, but with Lai Hui sacrificing so much, still being doubted by her closest kin, how painful it must be for her.
“You shouldn’t think like that anymore. Even if Lai Hui doesn’t look after you, isn’t there still me?” Lai Ruoyun’s lips moved, but she said no more, only looking out at the clear blue sky with cloudy eyes, for the first time truly wishing for death. She wasn’t intentionally doubting her own child; it was just that, with the rest of her days to be spent looking through a bright window at the sky, she felt overwhelmed with emotions, empathizing with the frustration of being cared for by a sick person for years. How long would Little Hui stick by her side? Not to mention Jiayi, who wasn’t even related by blood.
“Rest assured, I’ll find a way to make her have a good birthday this year, alright?” Jiayi realized he shouldn’t have been rude and quickly put away his documents, smiling to placate her. “Tell me, has she mentioned anything she particularly wants these past few years?”
Lai Ruoyun shook her head. “Ever since I got sick, that child seems to have become desireless. She never mentioned wanting anything!”
Jiayi looked disappointed, racking his brain to recall any clues from the past. After much thought, he couldn’t come up with even a hint of what she might desire, feeling defeated. Lai Hui was someone easily content, always thinking about how to be good to him when they were together, never asking for anything in return. Now, when he wanted to give back, he didn’t know where to start.
“You don’t need to deliberately try to please her. Just have dinner with her, watch a movie, that’ll be enough!” Lai Ruoyun saw his distress and consoled him, knowing well that her son never voiced his inner thoughts.
Jiayi just nodded, distractedly accompanying Lai Ruoyun until ten before leaving. Back at the apartment, he was still deep in thought. Just as he was at a loss, a familiar advertising slogan from the television drifted into his ears—”Everything for Love!” Suddenly looking up, he fixed his gaze on the real estate advertisement on the screen—people leaning on windows, children throwing balls on the lawn, men loosening their ties as they entered the house—the images switching like slides, filling his heart with infinite longing. His eyes lit up, and he almost shouted with joy; how could he not have thought of it? Although Lai Fen never said anything, everything she did was because she loved him. So, what he needed to do was—promise her a love that was eternal and secure!
Lai Fen helped Zhou Yuqian tie his tie, handed him a coat to put on, and then passed him his briefcase, looking very much like a gentle and refined Japanese wife. After getting everything in order, Zhou Yuqian pulled her close and gently kissed her forehead, softly saying, “I’ll be back tonight!” “Work is more important; if you’re in another city and can’t get away, don’t rush back!” Lai Fen smiled, opened the door, and pushed him out. “Alright, go now!”
Outside, a light rain had started to fall. Lai Fen stood by the second-floor window, watching the car lights fade into the mist, the yellow glow growing fainter until the car vanished into the misty forest path ahead. “Yuqian!” she called out inexplicably, then clearly felt a tug of pain in her chest. How was she to spend the rest of the day? Bored, she went downstairs, found some movies to watch, but found them uninteresting after one. The workers had been sent home on their arrival day, only coming back to cook. She wandered through the house, feeling the absence of life in the furniture. Bored out of her mind, she went online to browse some forums, trying to feel at ease, but she couldn’t help worrying about the thick fog outside. She shut down her computer, changed clothes, and called Zhou Yuqian’s company to send a car.
This medium-sized city didn’t offer much to do. Lai Fen parked at the central square. The car windows had fogged up, and she absentmindedly drew a smiling face on them with her finger—curved eyes, curved brows, but a droopy mouth, an expression that seemed to reflect her own mixed feelings. Tomorrow was her birthday, and ripples of joy spread in her heart, but something felt off, like the droopy mouth beneath her smiling face, hinting at a subtle sadness. Unable to pinpoint the cause, she got out of the car and entered the mall, blending into the crowd, listening to the unfamiliar dialects around her, seeing the earnest faces, and the unclear signage. The strange mood dispersed, replaced by a sense of adventure in this unfamiliar place, among strangers.
At noon, Zhou Yuqian arrived in the neighboring city. He immediately called for a meeting with the senior management of the branch office upon entering the city. Time was tight; he didn’t even have lunch before stepping into the conference room, cutting the originally planned three-hour meeting down to two. There was still a pile of documents to approve, which he planned to review within an hour. Before leaving work, he managed to handle everything. It was now six o’clock; he should be able to get back by ten at night. However, just as he stepped out of the office, a senior manager, drenched in sweat, reported an accident at the new factory site—part of the electrical equipment had been destroyed by fire, and the warehouse had caught fire too. Fortunately, it was discovered early, and since the new factory wasn’t operational yet and workers hadn’t moved in, only one warehouse manager was injured and sent to the hospital. Urgently, Zhou Yuqian instructed the managers to go to the factory to investigate the cause and assess the damage. He himself rushed to the hospital first to check on the injured employee, who had sustained moderate burns, then hurried to the factory site.
