MM Racing Chapter 1133 Sad
Chapter 1133 Sad
Liu Haizhong watched his son, Liu Guangtian, weeping on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), his shoulders trembling like a wronged little animal. His heart felt heavy, like a wad of soaked cotton, stifling him, yet he couldn't think of a single comforting word. He stood up and paced back and forth in the small room, the blue bricks creaking under his feet. His copper pipe burned in his hand, tobacco dripping from the rim, but he remained oblivious. Outside, the sky gradually darkened, the twilight spreading like ink. The aroma of stir-fried dishes from the neighbor's house wafted through the yard, mingled with the wailing of the second aunt's child and the distant ringing of bicycle bells, making his own house feel even more desolate, the air heavy with a sense of oppression.
"What are you crying for? You're acting like a woman!" Liu Haizhong suddenly stopped, his shoes scraping the ground with a harsh sound. His voice rose sharply, carrying a deliberately stern tone, his brows furrowed like a knot. "A real man stands tall and proud. Where can't he go? Back when I was building the reservoir, I lived in a drafty thatched hut, drank river water mixed with mud and sand, and worked more than ten hours a day. It was ten times harder than in the countryside, but I still made it through!"
He didn't really have much confidence in his words. He knew all too well that the hardships of rural life were nothing compared to building a reservoir. At least building a reservoir provided wages, a ration of food, and fellow workers to help each other out. But in the countryside, working from dawn till dusk, you earned work points, and whether you had enough to eat depended entirely on the weather. A city kid like him probably wouldn't even be able to lift a hoe. But he couldn't show weakness in front of his son. If the father panicked, his son would collapse even more. So he had to grit his teeth and keep his back straight.
Liu Guangtian raised his head, his eyes red and swollen like ripe walnuts, tears still clinging to his eyelashes. He retorted in a sobbing voice, "How can that be the same? You were surrounded by your coworkers back then, someone to look after you! I went to the countryside alone, I heard it was deep in the mountains, I couldn't even tell which way was north, south, east, or west, I didn't know what to call people, who could help me? What if someone bullied me? What if I didn't have enough to eat?" He spoke more and more urgently, and finally his voice almost broke into a wail.
"Help yourself!" Liu Haizhong slammed his pipe against the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), sparks crackling as they landed on his trousers, leaving a small black mark. "When you get there, don't think about anything else, just work hard, talk less, keep your eyes open, and get along well with the team leader and the villagers. If all else fails... learn to be sweet-talking, smile at the elders, offer them a cigarette or a piece of candy. People are all human, you can always get something to eat." As he spoke, his tone softened unconsciously; after all, this was his beloved son, how could he not feel sorry for him?
As he spoke, he pulled a blue cloth bag from his pocket. The corners of the cloth were frayed from wear. He carefully opened it layer by layer, revealing several crumpled bills inside—the largest denomination was ten yuan, along with several five-yuan and one-yuan notes, totaling fifty yuan. Next to it were three jin of grain coupons and two feet of blue cloth coupons, neatly folded. “This is all the savings the family has accumulated. Take it all with you. Be frugal when you get to the countryside, don’t be extravagant. If you run out of grain coupons, write back and I’ll try to get you more. Keep the cloth coupons; you can use them to buy yourself a new coat when it gets cold.”
Looking at the cloth bag, Liu Guangtian's tears fell even harder, soaking his clothes and leaving a small wet patch. He knew that the fifty yuan and a few tickets were the result of his parents' hard-earned savings—his father worked in a factory and earned a decent monthly salary, but his mother had been in poor health for many years and had little income. The family couldn't even afford to buy a piece of fruit candy on a regular basis, yet they gave him all their savings.
"Dad..." he choked up, his throat felt blocked, and he couldn't say anything else for a long time, only tears kept flowing.
Liu Haizhong turned his face away, looking at the dark night sky outside the window. He didn't dare to look into his son's red eyes, afraid that his own forced strength would crumble instantly, and he couldn't help but shed tears. "Tomorrow I'll go to the department store and buy you some polyester, and have your mother make you a new jacket, a grass-green one, so you look smart! When you go out, dress presentably, so people don't look down on the Liu family."
Just then, the door creaked open, and Liu Guangtian's mother walked in carrying a bowl of corn porridge. Her eyes were red-rimmed like a rabbit's, and the rough porcelain bowl in her hands trembled slightly. "Eat something first," she said, placing the bowl on the table. Her voice was hoarse, as if it had been sanded. "No matter what, you have to eat and take care of yourself so you'll have the strength to work over there." There was also an egg in the bowl, its bright yellow color standing out against the thin porridge—it was reserved for his mother to nourish her body, but today it was all given to his son.
Liu Guangtian didn't move, but kept his head down, his shoulders twitching, and the bones in his back were clearly visible.
Liu Haizhong sighed, pushed the bowl towards his son, and said in a very gentle voice, "Eat. You need to be full to have the energy to think and to keep going."
The wall clock ticked again, as if reminding us that the day of parting was drawing ever closer. Moonlight crept in through the window, casting a soft, hazy glow on the corn porridge on the table. This home was destined to be shrouded in the sorrow of parting that night, like being caught in an invisible net, tossing and turning, unable to find peace.
The morning mist hadn't completely dissipated, and a thin layer of dampness clung to the blue brick floor of the courtyard. Gu Nan buttoned up his work clothes in front of the full-length mirror, the top button of his collar fastened tightly, making his shoulders and back appear even more upright. Outside the window, the voice of Aunt Wang from next door scolding her child drifted in, mingled with the shouts of vendors from a distant breakfast stall. The aroma of cooking wafted in through the window cracks, making this early autumn morning feel exceptionally real.
"I'm going to work." Gu Nan turned around and saw Ran Qiuye standing at the door, holding his lunchbox, which contained two steamed buns and a small dish of pickled vegetables. "The factory is going to discuss the new factory director today, it'll probably be quite a lively affair."
Ran Qiuye handed him the lunchbox, her fingertips brushing against his hand, which carried a slightly cool warmth. She had actually been pondering this for days, tossing and turning at night—Gu Nan was now the deputy factory manager, overseeing the production workshop, his word was law, and he could go home after work without having to deal with all those superficial social obligations—how wonderful! But if he really became the factory manager, would he still have that peace and quiet?
But she didn't dare say it directly, afraid of spoiling Gu Nan's mood. She could only smile and stuff a piece of fruit candy into his hand: "Then I'll congratulate you in advance. If you really become the factory director, you have to treat me to a hot pot meal at the restaurant under the Qianmen Gate, the kind with a copper pot and charcoal fire."
Looking at the smile in her eyes, how could Gu Nan not understand what she was thinking? He lowered his head, stuffed the fruit candy into his pocket, reached out and pinched her cheek, his tone tinged with self-deprecation: "You, you always think of such unrealistic things. Me, the factory manager? That's a bit of a joke."