Every detail of what happened that day, Qin Guan would remember forever.
He stood in the center of the grassy area, watching from afar as his father-in-law spoke to Xu Ruyi with a grave expression. He had never seen his father-in-law look so solemn and serious before—
But the wind was strong, the children's shrieks were piercing, and Qin Guan couldn't hear a thing.
The more he couldn't hear, the more panicked he became.
Was his father-in-law confronting Xu Ruyi? Had he told her about the affair? Today? Bypassing Qin Guan completely, giving him no chance at all?
Had his father-in-law made some decision? Was he advising his daughter to divorce?
Xu Ruyi, Xu Ruyi appeared fragile, but she was always extremely strong-willed about matters of the heart—back when she chose him, her parents had initially objected so vehemently, but in the end, no one could sway her.
If she found out he had cheated?
Qin Guan felt his mouth go dry, his breath came fast. It seemed the oxygen in his body was being dried up, evaporated by the blindingly white sun. His mind was going blank.
"Daddy! What are you doing?" His daughter was unhappy, pouting. "Everyone else's kites are flying! Why did you stop? Daddy!"
His daughter's voice seemed to come from far, far away, as if separated by a mountain—a tall mountain, like the ones near his childhood home.
This scene, so terrifying it robbed him of thought and reason, felt horribly familiar.
Just like back then—
After being discharged from the hospital, his crazy mother had become much thinner.
Her hair had all been shaved off. After the bandages were removed, an ugly scar ran across her bald head.
Because her ribs had been kicked in and hadn't fully healed, after returning home, she spent most of her time lying down. When she did get up to walk occasionally, she hobbled, bent double, like a frail old woman.
Daily life wasn't too much of a worry. The village had sent some relief supplies, kind neighbors brought rice, oil, and vegetables. The sponsor had left some money and even bought nutritional supplements for the crazy mother.
The caregiving duties, of course, fell to Qin Guan. His drunkard father's shallow guilt had long since dissipated. Once the villagers left, he went straight back to drinking his liquor, not even glancing at the crazy mother.
Qin Guan was happy to care for her—since his performance at the hospital began, he had garnered widespread praise. Everyone who saw him praised him, felt sorry for him, cared for him. This praise and pity seemed to inject a kind of magical energy into him, making him excited, energized, and tireless in continuing his act.
Of course, most importantly, he noticed his crazy mother had changed too.
Actually, from the moment she opened her eyes in the hospital, Qin Guan sensed his crazy mother was different—her eyes, once confused and muddy, had become utterly lifeless, devoid of vitality or emotion. They blinked mechanically, as if only to prove she was alive.
She didn't cry out in pain, didn't ask for food, never hummed her incoherent little tunes anymore. Day after day, she did nothing, said nothing, moved little. When food came, she opened her mouth. When she needed the toilet, she walked there herself. When full, she lay down to sleep. When awake, she continued living like an expressionless, emotionless puppet.
She was like... like an idiot, her mind utterly empty, completely devoid of any consciousness.
Had his drunkard father kicked her head so badly it was ruined?
The doctors hadn't said, and Qin Guan hadn't dared to ask.
He was still just a child, only able to do what a child should—care for her diligently and bring her home.
Of course, he hadn't told anyone how much he loved this state of his crazy mother—how wonderful to have her completely vacant! Just eating and sleeping, no emotions, no trouble. It earned Qin Guan endless sympathy. And this completely senseless version of her didn't cause problems either. She no longer went out wandering, eating random things, or wetting herself. She didn't grin foolishly at people anymore. She was just like a wooden doll placed in the house, eliminating all possibility of embarrassing Qin Guan.
Most importantly, she wouldn't talk nonsense anymore.
Not talking nonsense meant safety for Qin Guan.
As long as she stayed silent, the secret—the secret of the sickle and the old dog—would remain buried forever.
It was probably the fifth day after she came home.
Qin Guan remembered the weather was just as fine that day, with brilliant sunshine. His drunkard father limped out to work. Qin Guan had cooked the meals early in the morning, fed his crazy mother, and hurried off to school.
He wore the new clothes the sponsor had given him, used the new stationery the sponsor had bought. He sat upright in the classroom, head held high.
In class, the teacher praised him as usual. His published essay "Mother" was proudly displayed on the wall outside the classroom, drawing countless envious and jealous looks.
Everything was so perfect.
He returned home at noon, hurriedly reheated the corn mush he'd cooked that morning, and he and the now-demented crazy mother each ate a bowl. Then he wiped his mouth and happily went back to school.
Halfway there, he turned back.
If... if he hadn't turned back that day to retrieve the new fountain pen the sponsor had given him, perhaps many things would have been different—but he did turn back. He pushed open the quiet courtyard gate at noon, walked briskly into the main room as usual, and pushed open the door to that bedroom.
He saw his crazy mother in an instant.
That single glance struck him like lightning. His mind went blank. He stood rooted to the spot, unable to move.
That crazy mother, the one who had become almost senseless, who only knew to eat and sleep all day—she was hunched over on his bed, flipping through his diary.
She, who should have been utterly devoid of emotion, cognition, or feeling—her hands were trembling as she looked at the words on the page. Her eyes brimmed with tears. Her lips quivered as she sobbed quietly.
Facing a formidable enemy, like a snow-capped mountain on the verge of collapse.
This familiar feeling, this identical sensation of being on the brink of collapse—Qin Guan experienced it firsthand again on that sunny morning, on the park's lush green lawn.
He watched from afar as his father-in-law spoke gravely to Xu Ruyi, clearly seeing how his own sordid past was about to be torn out by his father-in-law and displayed in full view before Xu Ruyi.
The man who claimed to regard him as a son wasn't giving him the slightest chance!
Qin Guan felt all the blood in his body rush to his head. But this wasn't like his childhood, not like last time—last time, in that lonely, ramshackle house, it had been just him and his crazy mother.
After a moment of shock, he could charge forward, fist clenched, snatch the diary, and turn to glare at his crazy mother with fierce hatred: "You snooped in my diary! You're faking it!"
Last time, his crazy mother, still weak from her illness, was no match for him—neither in strength nor wits.
She had no time to resume her vacant act. He shoved her away. Her body fell painfully onto the kang, tears streaming down her haggard, pale cheeks. She could only call out in pain, "Guan'er..."
She was completely at his mercy.
But this time was different—Xu Ruyi sat directly across from her father, listening intently. The nanny, Auntie Feng, stood at the other end of the grassy area. Right beside Qin Guan was his and Xu Ruyi's daughter, Little Pear, pouting and shaking his hand frantically. "Daddy! Daddy! What's wrong with you? I've been calling you! Can't you hear me?"