Xu Ruyi definitely remembered the incident where Qin Guan's crazy mother was beaten and hospitalized.
Although, back then, Qin Guan and Xu Ruyi hadn't even met yet.
Not only had he not met Xu Ruyi, Qin Guan didn't even know her father's surname or full name.
He only knew that man was a wealthy, kind-hearted sponsor, because they'd only met briefly once.
That first meeting, in the small yard in front of Qin Guan's house, this bespectacled, cleanly dressed, gentle and refined uncle had flipped through his homework book and certificates of merit. He praised Qin Guan's neat handwriting, clever mind, and hardworking spirit. He praised his love for learning, his kindness, his filial piety, and how well he took care of his mother.
Even when his crazy mother rushed forward, grabbing the man and uttering those jumbled words—"It's him... blood... that dog... it's him..."—the sponsor hadn't gotten angry. Instead, he praised Qin Guan even more sympathetically, "Child, you truly have it hard."
He praised him a lot, so much. But when he left, he didn't leave behind a definitive word.
The term "definitive word" was something his drunkard father used. That's what he wanted – the "definitive word." And what he meant by that was the man pulling out a wad of cash and stuffing it into his hand, or taking down a bank account number, then promising to deposit a certain amount each month.
"You really had it tough as a child, didn't you? That kind of home, that kind of life, and you managed to endure it."
On their first birthday together after confirming their relationship, while still in high school, Xu Ruyi had sneaked away without her parents' knowledge. She lied to her teacher to get leave, then took a train to Qin Guan's university.
A journey of a thousand miles.
To save time, this girl who'd been pampered since childhood endured the hardship of a long overnight train ride, in a hard seat, without sleep, just to arrive at dawn and be the first to wish him a happy birthday.
When she appeared, travel-worn, at the foot of his dormitory building, and pulled out the scarf she had knitted herself from her bag, Qin Guan was so moved his eyes reddened.
It was during that visit that Xu Ruyi first talked about his childhood.
"Dad told me your father had a terrible temper, didn't know how to love you, and didn't love you at all. Dad said after his first visit to your home, your dad flew into a huge rage and beat your mom so badly she ended up in the hospital. You must have been so scared back then."
At the time, in a restaurant near the campus, the young and innocent Xu Ruyi reached out and gently, tenderly grasped Qin Guan's hand.
Her clear, bright eyes were filled with pity for him.
"Dad had no idea about your mom's hospitalization at first. He happened to be away on a business trip. As soon as he got back and heard, he rushed straight there."
Her hand was warm and soft, just like her voice, like a gentle feather brushing against Qin Guan's heart.
"I heard you took a few hits yourself that time, but your mom got it worst..."
"Dad felt awful about it for a long time. He blamed himself a lot too," Xu Ruyi pouted, apologizing sincerely. "He said it was all his fault. It was his first visit; he had no idea about your dad's temper. If he'd known, he should have given you a definitive word right then."
Yes, that time, his crazy mother had been beaten savagely, brutally.
Qin Guan had taken a few kicks, but it was nowhere near as severe as his mother's injuries—her head was split open by the corner of a table, requiring seven stitches, and two of her ribs were kicked in.
If the village neighbors hadn't heard the screams and rushed over, if the village hadn't just happened to have a three-wheeled cart that could get her to the city hospital in time, she might well have died.
She lay in the hospital for a full half-month.
Everyone believed that the savage beating his crazy mother suffered was solely due to his drunkard father's violent temper.
And the fundamental reason for his drunkard father's colossal rage was that the sponsor had visited for the first time, said a lot of nice things, but left without giving a definitive word.
He had prepared so diligently for days, sat there grinning until his face hurt, only for the sponsor to spout a bunch of empty praise, then just up and left without a solid commitment.
He was furious. He had fire, resentment, and bitterness bottled up inside. So he found an excuse to viciously beat his crazy wife.
Yes, that's what everyone believed—the neighbors cursed the drunkard father for being inhuman; the village committee sternly reprimanded him for his violence; the school teachers, the hospital doctors, all condemned this short-sighted, brutal drunk.
Even the drunkard father himself believed this was the reason.
Only Qin Guan, only he knew the real truth, the actual reason.
He had yelled at his crazy mother, pressed the broken teapot shard to her neck, threatened her, cursed her—Qin Guan had tried every method, but he could never get a single truthful word out of her.
She would always murmur blankly, fearfully, yet seemingly oblivious: "Baby... baby... don't be scared, Mommy's here..."
As if she understood nothing.
But Qin Guan didn't believe it. Not at all. This madwoman pretended to know nothing in front of him, yet whenever outsiders came, she would rush out to tell them.
The most terrifying thing was telling the sponsor—the sponsor who had said so many kind words but left without a definitive word, hadn't returned for a week afterward. The sponsorship was probably off, right?
And the reason it was off was likely because of the crazy mother's words.
The sponsor might not know about any old dog, but the teacher knew. Could they have privately pieced together the information and guessed the whole truth?
During those days, Qin Guan's heart constantly felt like it was stuck in his throat, clawed at by a cat.
He waited for the definitive word, waited for news, but day and night, all he saw before him was the "crazy" instigator.
She had ruined it. She had destroyed his one chance to escape this garbage heap in his entire life.
It was her doing.
But she acted as if nothing had happened. Every day, she sat in the corner basking in the sun, scratching her head, picking lice, chatting incoherently with flowers, grass, pigs, cats, chickens, and dogs.
He was on pins and needles, wishing he were dead, while she was so relaxed and happy. Why?
Qin Guan couldn't accept it. He couldn't endure it.
On the third day after the sponsor left, he craned his neck outside the yard, waiting all day. Still, he saw no sign of the sponsor.
As dusk fell, he finally gave up hope.
He fed the pigs and chickens as usual, cooked a pot of porridge, fried a plate of soybeans, placed them on the small table in the yard, and then took out the liquor his drunkard father had just bought and poured a cup.
He waited until his drunkard father limped over, sat down, bit a soybean, took a sip of liquor. Qin Guan pretended to tidy up inside the house. He stood behind the pitch-black door, watching his father drink one cup, then another, then another...
That should be enough. That amount would have him tipsy, but not yet passed out.
Only then did Qin Guan "hastily" drag his crazy mother out from the house. "What are you doing? Why did you put pig manure in your pocket? It stinks! Where else did you put it? Tell me! You were right by the table when I was setting it up! Ah—you didn't... you didn't put pig manure in Dad's liquor, did you!"