Chapter 3

He curled his fingertips into his palm, as if grasping something…

After changing clothes, Shen Zhi came out of the bedroom.

Shen Jichuan was still standing near the entrance of the living room, not wandering around or looking at anything. As soon as he saw Shen Zhi come out, he immediately went to support him.

Leaning on him, Shen Zhi sat down on the sofa.

Shen Jichuan poured him a cup of boiled water. Sir, the water is very hot.

That sounds awkward, Shen Zhi said. My name is Shen Zhi. You can call me Brother Shen, or just Brother is fine.

Brother Shen, Shen Jichuan readily complied. You didn’t let me pay the medical fees, but I should compensate you for your lost work time.

Didn’t we already discuss this earlier? Shen Zhi lightly tapped the hot outer surface of the cup. Even though his fingertips were slightly stung by the heat, he didn’t stop. I came here to recuperate. Even when I work, it’s from home. There’s no such thing as lost work time.

Just as Shen Jichuan was about to say something else, Shen Zhi continued.

If you really feel bad and want to do something, there actually is a favor I need help with, related to my work, Shen Zhi’s face showed hesitation. But it’s a bit troublesome…

Shen Jichuan quickly said, Brother Shen, just tell me what it is.

After repeated urging, Shen Zhi finally said hesitantly, I’m helping a friend develop an online practice question software. It requires a large high school question bank and real human problem-solving data to identify common mistakes during the solving process.

I noticed you’re wearing the local high school uniform. If you’re willing to help solve practice questions during winter break and provide data, that would be a huge help. However, I don’t know how your grades are. If there are too many wrong answers, that won’t work.

Helping with practice questions – this kind of assistance should be as easy as breathing.

As for his academic performance, Shen Jichuan didn’t know the difficulty level of the questions, so he didn’t make any grand promises. Due to limited educational resources, he only ranked in the top three at his school – it was hard to say how he would fare compared to other top schools.

I’m in my third year of high school, and my grades are decent, Shen Jichuan said cautiously.

In that case, I’ll give you a set of questions. Work on them over the next few days and come find me when winter break starts, Shen Zhi said. If you pass, I’ll use you.

Was this like early preparation for college entrance exam practice questions?

Shen Jichuan nodded, mentally calculating that if he spent winter break solving questions, his time for part-time work would definitely decrease, and so would his earnings.

If necessary, he could take night shifts – he could compress his sleeping time.

Shen Zhi probably guessed what he was thinking but didn’t comment further. Seeing that his ultimate goal for this visit had been achieved, he handed Shen Jichuan the prepared questions and promptly saw him out without any delay.

Chilly wind and drizzle.

Shen Jichuan stood downstairs holding five pages of comprehensive questions.

A lot had happened in the short span of two hours this afternoon.

First, he had bumped into someone, then discovered the person looked extremely similar to him, leading him to suspect they might be related. Then he escorted the person home, only to be given a stack of test questions…

Shen Jichuan took a deep breath and looked back.

Thin post-rain mist lingered in the air, and raindrops still dripped from the blue tin waterproof awning under the eaves.

The second-floor rental apartment’s windows were tightly shut. He suddenly remembered – a few nights ago after school, when he was riding his bicycle and glanced this way, it seemed like someone had been standing behind that window, writing and drawing.

Was the person behind the window that day the same gentleman he met today? What had he been writing?

Anyway, today’s encounter with Mr. Shen had been fortunate—had it been anyone else, he’d surely have ended up paying compensation. It was also lucky it was Sunday, or he would have been late for school.

Shen Jichuan exchanged a few words with Boss Zhou at the bookstore, carefully tucked away the test papers, casually wiped the cold rainwater from his bicycle seat with his palm, and rode off into the misty rain.

After buying eggs at the market, he returned home to find his grandmother, Ke Chaolan, sitting on a small stool under the eaves of the main room, sorting vegetables.

Grandma, why are you sitting outside?

Ke Chaolan looked up and smiled. Chengzong’s father, you’re back?

Though his grandmother had been self-sufficient in daily life these past few years—able to communicate normally and even take on odd jobs—her memory for faces had grown fuzzy, often mistaking him for others.

Shen Jichuan didn’t correct her mistaken address, simply replying, Come inside. I’ll make dinner.

Shen Chengzong was home too, lifting the curtain to the main room to call out, Brother’s back?

Ke Chaolan’s face darkened as she scolded, No respect! Don’t call him ‘brother’—call him ‘Father’! She pinched Shen Chengzong’s ear. Go do your homework. Study hard so you can support your father and grandmother later.

Shen Chengzong winced in pain.

Shen Jichuan couldn’t help laughing. Stay with Grandma. Dinner will be ready soon.

Without changing his clothes, he went to his room to put away the test papers before heading to the kitchen.

Stir-fried bok choy, ham and scrambled eggs, and thick millet congee—two dishes and soup were on the table by 7 p.m.

Shen Jichuan remained preoccupied with the day’s events, eating in silence.

You came back late today. Did you find a job? Shen Chengzong asked around his chopsticks, worried. Was it not going well?

Shen Jichuan snapped out of his thoughts. I didn’t go job hunting. Don’t worry, we have enough for your competition class fees.

It was just that with the work from Mr. Shen, his winter break earnings would likely be less.

But after paying for the competition class, will there be enough for next semester’s textbook and tuition fees?

Eat your vegetables, Shen Jichuan didn’t deny it.

Shen Chengzong bit his lip, tentatively suggesting, How about you work at the Auto Repair Shop during winter break, Brother? Even though some people there are awful, the pay is good.

Mention of the Auto Repair Shop made Shen Jichuan’s brow furrow in disgust.

But it was true: the competition class had cost two thousand, and they needed money for New Year supplies. If he were the only one working during the break, their savings probably wouldn’t last through the first half of next year.

Shen Jichuan pondered. Chengzong, your competition class isn’t all day, right?

8 to 11 a.m., and 2 to 6 p.m.

Shen Jichuan swallowed a mouthful of the coarse millet congee. Your grades are decent, and you’ll be a senior in six months. You’re more than qualified to tutor middle schoolers. How about you take on two hours of tutoring after class?

It’s a kid I taught before. You can take over and charge a bit less. That way, I can earn more elsewhere, and we can save money together.

Shen Chengzong brightened. Sure! But then he hesitated. But the competition class assigns homework. If I tutor for two hours after school, I might not have enough time.

The old lady, who had been listening vacantly with her bowl, suddenly began wiping tears from her eyes.

Shen Chengzong was startled. Grandma, what’s wrong?

Ke Chaolan’s heart ached. We’re useless. You’re so young, having to work and earn money already. You’re still just a child.

…Brother, Shen Chengzong looked at him helplessly. Brother, comfort Grandma.

Brother! You’re calling that wretched Shen Jichuan ‘brother’ again! The furious shout escalated sharply, nearly becoming a shriek. Ke Chaolan, eyes red with resentment, spat out bitterly, It’s all that jinx’s fault! Since we picked him up and raised him, this house has only held funerals! Don’t mention him! Don’t you dare mention him to me!

If not for raising that foundling, would your grandfather have needed to drive overloaded trucks illegally to earn money? Would the truck have overturned? After your grandfather died, that jinx still brought no peace—he caused your mother’s death too! That cursed creature, that foul-hearted, rotten-livered scum worse than pigs or dogs!

The atmosphere at the dining table grew stiff and suffocating.

Shen Chengzong looked at her in alarm, then turned his gaze to Shen Jichuan.

Shen Jichuan silently patted the old woman’s back to soothe her.

When he was young, Grandma had been sharp-witted, but after developing Alzheimer’s, she often confused things—frequently mixing up him and Shen Chengzong, or mistaking him for his deceased adoptive father.

Sometimes she couldn’t distinguish the current year, remaining trapped in the grief of losing loved ones, her emotions volatile and extreme.

During lucid moments, though Grandma wasn’t as affectionate with him as with Chengzong, she still showed him care.

Occasionally, Shen Jichuan thought it was just as well that Grandma couldn’t tell people apart during her episodes—at least she wouldn’t point at his nose and curse him.

That way, it wouldn’t hurt so much.

Shen Jichuan forced a smile. Don’t be angry. We’ve already driven him out—he won’t be home, and you won’t see him. Let’s eat now. Don’t upset yourself over someone worthless. You’ve frightened Chengzong.

Only then did Ke Chaolan stop cursing. She patted Shen Jichuan’s shoulder affectionately. Father of my child, you’ve worked hard supporting this family. I knitted you new cotton gloves. Come to my room later—let me check the fit and make adjustments.

Shen Jichuan’s eyes curved in a smile. Alright.

After the meal, Ke Chaolan took him to adjust the gloves until she could no longer stay awake and fell asleep. Shen Jichuan emerged from her room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Shen Chengzong had already cleared the table. Seeing him come out, he whispered, Brother.

Don’t worry, Grandma’s asleep. Shen Jichuan headed toward his own room but felt a tug on his sleeve.

He turned back.

Shen Chengzong murmured, Brother, Grandma didn’t mean it. Her mind isn’t clear.

Shen Jichuan smiled. I know.

The hand clutching his sleeve tightened. Brother, don’t be sad. Don’t abandon us…

Shen Jichuan fell silent.

This is my home. I won’t abandon you.

Reassured, Shen Chengzong finally released his grip, though unease still lingered in his eyes.

Shen Jichuan knew he wasn’t the Shens’ biological child, nor was he Shen Chengzong’s real brother. That was why Chengzong always worried he might grow cold-hearted from Grandma’s illness and occasional scolding, and abandon them.

Especially now, with only six months left until his college entrance exams, Shen Chengzong would subtly ask whether he planned to apply to provincial universities and if he would return home after starting college.

His younger brother lacked a sense of security, terrified he might discard the family.

Shen Jichuan turned around and offered a few more comforting words. After Shen Chengzong returned to his room, he went back to his own.

Clutching the warm, soft gloves Grandma had knitted for him, he sat at his desk, lost in thought for a long time. The ache and grievance in his heart spread like spiderwebs, weaving a dense net in the corners of his mind.

After what felt like ages, he finally let out a soft sigh.

His gaze fell on the desk, where Mr. Shen had left him practice exam problems.

He tentatively solved a few and found the difficulty manageable. Soon, he plunged into the questions, immersing himself in the satisfaction of finding solutions.

After finishing two paintings, the gloom in Shen Jichuan’s heart dissipated, and Shen Zhi’s face—strikingly similar to his own—involuntarily surfaced in his mind.

Were they not related by blood? Could they possibly be uncle and nephew? Brothers?

He truly didn’t dare to ask. He feared that voicing the question might lead to an awkward misunderstanding, and he also feared the truth, worried it would disrupt the tranquility of Shen Zhi’s family.

It was probably just a coincidence—the world was full of wonders.

If Shen Zhi’s family had ever lost a child, surely they would have asked him the moment they first saw him.

With this thought, Shen Jichuan went to the bed and did a hundred push-ups followed by two hundred sit-ups.

Once he had worked up a sweat, he patted his cheeks and warned the brain inside his head: Stop overthinking, or I’ll do another set until you’re too exhausted to function.

His brain stopped spinning, but deep within his heart, an inexplicable restlessness continued to surge.

The sky was pitch black.

Shen Zhi lay in bed, quietly staring at the pale ceiling.

The lights were on in the living room but not in the bedroom. As darkness fell, the bedroom dimmed accordingly, with only a faint glow seeping in through the half-open door.

Feigning being hit by a car—such a trick was hardly clever and had even injured him. Surely there were better ways to get to know someone, weren’t there?

A subtle but undeniable pain throbbed in his ankle and palm, yet as Shen Zhi registered the physical discomfort, a strangely light and pleasant emotion welled up inside him.

He thought to himself, It’s not an illusion. It hurts—it’s real.

Shen Zhi raised his hand and looked at the bandage on his palm. Beneath the gauze, his wound seemed to bring him a sense of contentment and satisfaction.

He lay in bed until late into the night, still wide awake. As faint, fragmented auditory hallucinations whispered at the edge of his hearing, he leaned against the bedside, picked up his phone, and opened an audiobook.

A soft wind hummed outside the window, and the rain-washed night sky was clear and pristine. On the phone screen, the disc icon for the audiobook slowly turned:

From that moment on, I felt an invisible, intangible restlessness around me and deep within my body. [Note]

…He believed that time has countless series—diverging, converging, and parallel times forming an ever-expanding, intricate web.

Shen Zhi rubbed his fingertips, as if the warmth from the young man’s waist still lingered there.

He curled his fingers into his palm, as though grasping onto something.

Shen Zhi closed his eyes, and drowsiness gradually began to take hold.

In the aftermath of the rainy night, the vast curtain of the sky enveloped all that was turbulent and serene.

A steady, magnetic male voice emanated from the phone, continuing to read gently and slowly:

For most of time, we do not exist; in some moments, there is you but not me; in others, there is me but not you; and in yet others, both of us exist. At this present moment, by chance, you have come to my humble abode; at another moment, you pass through the garden and find I have decayed.

And now, as my abundance converges with your existence, the paths to the future continue to branch endlessly…

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