Chapter 134: Chapter 133: I Don’t Want to Be Separated from You
Shi Yang tiptoed back to his bedroom, picked up his phone and glanced at it. There was an unread message from Zhao Meimei.
Zhao Meimei: Brother, what should I do? I don’t want to go back south, I want to stay, I don’t want to be separated from you!!!
Upon reading this line, Shi Yang’s heart felt indescribably heavy. He stared blankly, thinking that no matter what, he couldn’t let Zhao Dazhuang move the family away. If they had to leave, Zhao Meimei should stay behind.
When Zhao Meimei’s family arrived in the city, it was snowing heavily, comparable to goose feathers.
The bad weather made the streets sparsely populated, yet the train station was unusually bustling.
Shi Yang leaned against the railing outside the exit, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, anxiously staring at the tightly closed gate.
He had barely slept last night, drifting into a light slumber at dawn only to dream immediately; in the dream, Zhao Meimei was being led away by Zhao Dazhuang without looking back, like a sharp human-shaped blade piercing his heart with pain.
A staff member bundled up in a coat walked from inside to the gate at the exit. The lock on the door was pulled open, making a harsh scraping noise, causing Shi Yang to shiver and extinguish his cigarette, tossing it into a nearby trash bin before trying to squeeze forward.
People with large and small packages soon appeared at the exit. As Shi Yang looked at the crowded scene, he felt momentarily dizzy, as if a dull gray tone had been cast over his clear vision, turning everything fuzzy and unclear.
"Brother!"
Zhao Meimei almost immediately spotted Shi Yang standing in the crowd, strikingly thin and tall in a light blue down jacket.
Shi Yang swiftly squeezed forward a couple of steps to catch the wildly running Zhao Meimei.
Zhao Meimei wore a camo-pattern, mid-length down coat with a large fur collar cap concealing her small face. She buried her face in Shi Yang’s chest, rubbing vigorously, the unique scent of her coat mixed with a faint tobacco smell wafting past her nose, causing Zhao Meimei’s heart to tremble as she called out, "Brother!"
Embracing Zhao Meimei tightly, Shi Yang buried his face in her neck, closed his eyes, and swiftly pressed his lips against her neck under the cover of her hat, leaving a deep kiss before quickly lifting his head.
Shi Yang smiled slightly, released her, and turned to help Zhao Dazhuang and Liu Xiue with their luggage, leaving Zhao Meimei standing there, her heart pounding wildly.
This time, Zhao Dazhuang returned with only a few gifts from the south to thank friends, leaving most of his belongings back home.
With little luggage, Shi Yang stuffed two large bags into the trunk and drove Zhao Meimei’s family back to the family compound.
Gripping the steering wheel, Shi Yang glanced at Zhao Dazhuang’s gloomy and haggard face in the rearview mirror and asked, "Uncle, how is Grandma?"
Zhao Dazhuang sighed before speaking, "The old lady’s indicators are high. The doctor said she’ll undergo surgery after stabilization."
Shi Yang didn’t press further and mentioned their evening plan, "My mom is preparing dinner at home for your welcoming tonight."
Zhao Dazhuang wasn’t polite, and they hurriedly rushed home. Liu Xiue separated bathing supplies into two bags, and the family first took a soak at the bathhouse.
Shi Yang had bathed the day before. He cast a glance at the heavy-hearted Zhao Dazhuang and decided to join them.
Zhao Dazhuang sat weakly in the steam room, his lips slightly drooping, eyes sunken, looking worn and sorrowful. In a mere half month, Zhao Dazhuang seemed to have aged several years, the expression on his face desolate and helpless.
Sitting next to him on a wooden stool, Shi Yang poured water onto the steam pipe, a rush of white steam flooding the room and blurring his vision.
It was just early afternoon, almost no one was in the bathhouse, and with the steam room door closed, it was perfect for men’s private conversations.
Zhao Dazhuang confided his worries heart to heart: "Doctors say if the old lady doesn’t have surgery, she might not last past spring, and surgery might only see her through till late summer... After surgery, medication will extend life day by day; isn’t that just enduring?"
As he spoke, Zhao Dazhuang felt a sharp pain in his throat, his heart twisting into a knot, a mix of heart-wrenching agony and remorse of wanting to care for but being unable to — overwhelming him, a sting in his heart, bringing tears to his eyes.
Through the boiling mist, Shi Yang watched Zhao Dazhuang’s blurry face, consoling: "You can’t blame yourself for this. Don’t overthink; doctors usually give the worst-case scenario. Final judgment depends on clinical results during treatment. My dad is also helping to look for remedies; you never know, it might work."
Zhao Dazhuang remained silent with a furrowed brow.
Shi Yang carefully continued, "Later on, let my dad take you to an expert to see if they have good advice. My dad was an old classmate of hers and maintains a good relationship, so he’ll definitely help sincerely."
Zhao Dazhuang nodded, turning to Shi Yang, his eyes filled with years of accumulated trust and gratitude: "If it weren’t for your dad alerting me earlier, I wouldn’t have handled the situation so well. I’m really thankful to you all; it seems I’ll be troubling you again."
Shi Yang hastily replied, "No need to stand on ceremony with us; we’re not outsiders." Now and in the future, a family bound by kinship.
Zhao Dazhuang lowered his eyes, feeling a strong wave of reluctance he hadn’t noticed before. It wasn’t easy to abandon a place lived for over ten years, especially for someone inherently nostalgic.
The steamy heat baked out all the fatigue and weariness from their bodies.
Zhao Dazhuang leaned against the damp wooden backrest, completely relaxed, sharing his true views with Shi Yang: "I moved here with Meimei’s mother due to work allocation over a decade ago. We’ve only gone back home five times in total; later, when Meimei was older, the old lady missed her terribly, so I made a point to take her back twice. More than a decade, just meeting those few times, each visit, the sensation of home feels increasingly unfamiliar, that feeling is really..."
Reaching a point of sentiment, Zhao Dazhuang aggressively rubbed his face, his robust fingers pressing under his jawbone, knuckles turned white with the pain in his heart: "I’m the only son in our family, the old lady doted on sons over daughters, cherishing me most since childhood. Over these ten years, every time she calls, she cries. Yet, here my work is demanding, and your aunt’s store is busiest around the new year..."