The Scorching Sun - 48
When Fang Zhuo thought back on her relationship with Fang Yiming over the past decade and more, what she remembered was always the same complicated tangle of coldness and distance, threaded through with feelings she could never quite put into words.
Every time she thought she had finally severed all ties with him, that nothing he did could affect her anymore, the mere appearance of his name would plunge her into the worst kind of turmoil, leaving her completely thrown off balance. It was always like this. It had always been like this.
It was as though a cord ran from the deepest part of her heart, its loose end left carelessly by the roadside. Whenever Fang Yiming happened to pass by, he would step on it. All it took was one careless tug to inflict ten, a hundred times the hurt anyone else could cause, tearing her world apart at the seams.
Why?
She'd already given up. So why did she still have that tiny sliver of hope for Fang Yiming?
Looking at it now, almost absurdly, family affection really was a strange thing. Its strangeness had nothing to do with blood ties, nor with some inexplicable bond between people who could sense each other's hearts. It came from the beliefs imposed by society, accumulated year after year until they took root deep inside you.
Fang Zhuo had never been able to remain unmoved by this man's ruthlessness because once upon a time, she had desperately wanted him to love her. She had wanted what most people in this world were supposed to have.
It had taken her more than a decade to understand that so-called familial love was nothing more than a social rule and a place for one's emotions to be invested. She understood it, yet she still couldn't accept it without resentment. Fang Yiming, on the other hand, seemed to have understood it instinctively from the beginning.
He didn't regard Fang Zhuo as part of his rules, nor did he want to place any of his emotions in her. To him, Fang Zhuo was merely a name that sounded a little more familiar than that of a stranger.
As Fang Zhuo boarded the bus to Fang Yiming's workplace, all kinds of merciless thoughts drifted through her mind.
She stood expressionless at the back of the bus, her hands gripping the overhead strap so tightly her knuckles whitened.
The shadows of trees and streams of traffic swept past the window one after another. The rocking bus churned up the contents of her heart as though someone had overturned a jar of spices.
Fang Zhuo remembered the few fleeting times she'd seen Fang Yiming as a child.
There had been so few of them that she remembered every one with perfect clarity.
Fang Yiming would occasionally return to the countryside to visit his mother. It happened only a handful of times, and every time, Fang Zhuo would hide behind the door and secretly watch him.
When she was young and knew nothing of the world, she had carried an almost instinctive longing for his affection, along with an admiration for the glamorous life he seemed to lead.
A few times, Fang Yiming caught sight of her. He would beckon her over playfully and hand her some candy.
Thinking back now, Fang Zhuo felt that his attitude toward her had probably been no different from the way someone might amuse himself by teasing a cat or dog. Perhaps Fang Yiming had simply thought that a girl who looked as unkempt as she did wasn't worth fussing over. He would take a distant glance and leave.
If Ye Yuncheng was an open-hearted man, someone who could take even the bitterest poverty and hardship in stride, brushing it aside with a few jokes before taking another person's hand and saying, "Look, the world is getting better and better."
Then Fang Yiming was his complete opposite.
Everything in his eyes, and everything about the life he led, was marked by worldly concerns.
Perhaps there was nothing inherently wrong with being worldly. It just so happened that Fang Yiming's particular brand of it had wounded Fang Zhuo.
Fang Zhuo kept remembering, and every fragment became a sharp blade, scraping away at her heart piece by piece.
She felt like an hourglass, the grains of sand inside slipping steadily away. Perhaps one day, when it was finally empty, she would no longer have to grieve over this person.
But every grain that fell was a piece of flesh and blood this man had given her when she was born.
Then, when people asked about him in the future, she could finally say without hesitation, "What does he have to do with me?"
...But how could she not care?
She was hurting so badly.
The bus pulled into the stop. The doors opened, and the wind and bustle outside suddenly felt real again. Fang Zhuo released the overhead strap, leaving angry red marks across her palms and knuckles. Expressionless, she stepped off through the rear door and strode toward Fang Yiming's workplace.
Fang Yiming was sitting in his office sorting through documents when the front desk called to inform him. He froze for a moment, then glanced at his computer. In the end, he temporarily set aside his work and went downstairs.
Fang Zhuo stood in the center of the lobby, directly facing the direction from which he emerged. She stared straight at him without blinking.
There was a frightening chill in her eyes. Fang Yiming was startled, and for a moment, the person standing before him seemed almost unfamiliar.
He stopped about a meter away and asked, "What's wrong?"
Fang Zhuo's breathing was heavy, but when she spoke, her voice was very low. "Ye Yuncheng is sick. He's waiting for surgery."
"What does he have?" Fang Yiming's brow tightened slightly. His lips moved, but in the end he only said, somewhat guardedly, "I told you he wouldn't be able to take proper care of you."
Fang Zhuo said coldly, "Give me twenty thousand yuan."
Fang Yiming was unhappy with her attitude, but then he thought about it again. She must be completely overwhelmed right now. It wasn't the time to hold her behavior against her.
He had prepared a red envelope for Fang Zhuo before, but she'd refused it. Ye Yuncheng had also taken care of Fang Zhuo for so many years. Twenty thousand yuan wasn't much, and she clearly needed it urgently. After a brief moment of thought, he decided to give it to her.
There was a bank right next to their workplace. Fang Yiming walked outside, pulled a card from his wallet, and inserted it into the ATM.
Withdrawing twenty thousand yuan required several transactions. Fang Yiming selected the maximum amount allowed per transaction, arranged the bills dispensed by the machine on the counter, then pressed the button to continue the withdrawal.
While he waited for the machine to count the money, Fang Yiming rehearsed what he wanted to say.
Objective. Rational. Concerned. Something Fang Zhuo might actually listen to.
As her elder, he felt he still had a responsibility to advise her. Perhaps this could even be an opportunity for them to repair their father-daughter relationship.
The crisp rustle of counting bills finally stopped. Fang Yiming walked out with the money, slipped the bank card back into his wallet, and said gently, "I'll give you ten thousand for now. I remember your uncle qualifies for poverty assistance, so his medical expenses shouldn't be that high. You don't need to pay..."
"Don't need to pay it back?" Fang Zhuo cut him off. The corners of her lips pulled downward, her expression caught somewhere between laughter and tears. "Fang Yiming, do you have no shame?"
Fang Yiming stared at her in bewilderment. "What did you call me?"
"This is money you're paying back to him. You think I don't know?" Fang Zhuo said, each word deliberate and sharp. "Ye Yuncheng has been sending money to your account every year for several years. It adds up to more than twenty thousand yuan. He needed you, so you let him give you charity, and now you're giving me ten thousand?"
Fang Zhuo pulled out the account book and tried to flip to the relevant page, but the sheets had stuck together. She tried several times and couldn't find it. The scattered figures written across the pages blurred before her eyes.
Too many memories came rushing back, all of them erupting beneath Fang Yiming's lofty, condescending attitude. In the end, she couldn't bear it anymore. She slammed the book onto the floor and demanded, "How could you take his money? Did you even need it!"
Fang Yiming stared at her before crouching down to pick up the book.
"You can pay thousands a month to send your son to a training class. You can buy your son clothes that cost thousands of yuan. That amount of money is nothing to you, but do you know our entire household expenses for a year are only a few thousand yuan? You said an old man doesn't need much money. You're fucking lying through your teeth!"
People passing by began to stare. Fang Yiming stood there at a loss, wanting to stop her.
Tears choked Fang Zhuo's voice. The last thread holding her together had been stretched to its absolute limit, and with a sharp snap, it broke. Everything she'd been holding inside came pouring out, leaving Fang Yiming no chance to interrupt.
"My mother and I! My grandma! We're poor. We're the ones who need those few hundred yuan! Forget a few hundred yuan, every day after school I'd go up the mountain to gather grass for the rabbits and feed them. During school holidays, I'd go to other people's houses to help fertilize their fields, alter clothes, clean their homes. I did all of that just to save up a little money for my living expenses."
"You used to laugh at me for being dirty. You laughed because I didn't wash my clothes, Fang Yiming... You really have no conscience! I had to carry the water I used to wash clothes from the river. Why? Because I needed to save on the water bill. You have no idea how many kilometers I walked along those mountain roads in the middle of the night. What kind of life were you living? What kind of life was I living?"
Fang Yiming opened his mouth to explain. He vaguely remembered something like this, but he couldn't recall the details anymore. Looking at Fang Zhuo's tear-streaked face and sensing the scrutinizing eyes of everyone around them, he felt a turmoil of emotions he couldn't put into words.
It was as though there had been someone else who once accused him in exactly the same way. Not long after, that person had disappeared completely.
Fang Yiming felt the air around him grow heavy, until breathing itself became difficult.
Fang Zhuo asked, "Do you know what I resent most? People without parents can live better than I did. They can receive money from the government. But Fang Yiming, what did you ever give me? Nothing! Why could you so easily throw away your own past? Why?"
Fang Zhuo screamed, "Why! Then why!"
In the end, all she could ask was why.
"I don't need you to help me! But we've already worked so hard just to live. Can't you stop interfering with my life!"
Fang Zhuo drew in ragged breaths, raised a hand, and wiped her face hard, scrubbing away every last tear. Finally, she said calmly, "Give me the money back."
Fang Yiming had countless things he wanted to explain. His Adam's apple bobbed as he struggled to find the words, but nothing he said seemed defensible. In the end, he could only murmur, "I... didn't take your uncle's money."
"Give me the money back!" Fang Zhuo gritted out through clenched teeth. "You owe it to me."
Fang Yiming handed over the money in a daze, and Fang Zhuo snatched it from him. She immediately took the account book from his arms as well.
By the time Fang Yiming stood there drenched in cold sweat beneath the warm spring sunshine, Fang Zhuo had already vanished from his sight.
---
Comments
Post a Comment