Chapter 93

Chapter 93

Day broke.

After taking that photo with me, Du Yuwei and her son vanished.

It felt as if I had just woken from a dream. With a heavy, complicated heart, I walked out through the main gates.

The amusement park security guard was standing by the entrance eating a steamed bun. When he saw me coming from inside, he jumped in fright.

“Hey! I haven’t even opened the gates yet. When did you get in there?”

I ignored him and took off running.

I hailed a taxi on the street, intending to head back to the office for work.

While in the car, I pulled out my phone, wanting to look at the photo of Du Yuwei, her son, and me.

I found it strange that my phone had been able to capture two ghosts.

But when I pulled up the photo, I was stunned.

In the picture, there was only an empty swing set. There was no one there at all.

Not only had Du Yuwei and her son disappeared, but even I was gone from the frame.

Did I not actually see them last night? Was I just sleepwalking in the amusement park?

But even if I had been sleepwalking, I definitely took this photo. Even if the camera didn’t catch them, there was no reason for it to miss me, right?

I suddenly felt a chill crawl down my spine.

Perhaps because the photo was so bizarre, I decided not to delete it.

I arrived back at the office.

What used to be two bustling storefronts now only held a few young employees. Not a single one of the veteran staff members remained.

The younger ones were more loyal, which also reflected that Meng Yifan was actually a decent boss.

I hadn’t been in the right headspace for work lately, but business was so dismal that I felt I had to help out.

I took a stack of flyers and stood out on the street, handing one to every passerby.

A little girl, about five or six years old, came toward me. Children are naturally restless; she was running around and accidentally tripped, tumbling onto the ground.

I hurried over to help her up. It was a nasty fall, and she looked like she was about to burst into tears.

I brushed the dust off her clothes and coaxed her gently, “Watch where you’re going, little one, or it’ll really hurt when you fall.”

Perhaps because my tone was soft and I patted her head, she stopped crying immediately. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a lollipop, and offered it to me in a tiny, high-pitched voice:

“This is for you.”

I smiled and reached out to take it.

The moment it touched my hand, I froze. A sudden, overwhelming sense of familiarity surged in my heart.

It felt as if this exact scene had happened once before-a memory so deeply etched that it left a profound impression. A little girl had given me a lollipop once before.

I stood there in a daze for a long time, desperately trying to recall that first instance.

But the harder I tried to remember, the blurrier the memory became.

By the time I snapped out of it, the little girl was gone.

I rushed back into the shop and asked Meng Yifan, “Do you remember me having a major illness when I was a kid?”

Meng Yifan had already given up on work and was sitting inside playing Fight the Landlord on his phone. He looked up, startled. “What?”

I repeated the question.

He thought for a moment and nodded. “Yeah, I think you were eleven. You were really sick. Why?”

I told him I couldn’t remember the details of the illness or how I was cured, and I asked him to help me piece it together.

He said, “Weren’t we in the same class? One day during school, you didn’t show up. I asked my dad why you weren’t there, and he said you were sick with a high fever. Later, my dad took me to the hospital to visit you. You were in bad shape, looking like you were at death’s door.”

“Our families were still living in the county back then. Afterward, your parents took you to the city hospital for treatment. I didn’t have time to visit you because of school, but I overheard my mom and dad saying your condition was getting worse and worse. They were afraid you wouldn’t pull through.”
“I was young back then. How was I supposed to know what ‘not making it’ meant? I thought people only died when they got old. I figured you’d just take a long time to get better, but guess what happened next?”

Meng Yifan put down his phone, his face lighting up with excitement. “One day, you were just suddenly fine, like you’d never been sick at all. I thought it was a miracle back then. Seriously, how did you recover? Did your dad take you to see some miracle doctor?”

I stared blankly for a long time before shaking my head. “I can’t remember. I just remember being in a daze after I got sick. I had no energy every day, and eventually, I just lost consciousness entirely.”

I had no memory of how I actually recovered. I’d only heard my dad tell my grandfather that a medical expert had visited the hospital back then, and that expert was the one who cured me.

“Why did my mom… why did she leave back then?” I asked Meng Yifan.

Meng Yifan paused, looking caught off guard. “How should I know? I was just a kid. How would I know about your family’s internal drama? Besides, it’s been so many years. Why bring her up now?”

I sighed. “I just can’t wrap my head around it. Why did she leave right after I got better? I’m her own flesh and blood. Did she really have no feelings for me at all?”

Meng Yifan sighed as well. “Men abandoning their families, women doing the same-it’s not exactly a rare story. If she wanted to go, what could you do? Some people are just blinded by their own desires. Maybe she just couldn’t stand living with your dad anymore, and her ‘true love’ happened to come along.”

“Look at it this way: at least she didn’t leave while you were still sick. That shows she had a shred of humanity left. Just let her go.”

I didn’t respond.

Fifteen years had passed, but I still couldn’t get over this hurdle in my heart.

No child doesn’t love their parents, and no child can understand why a mother would choose to abandon them.

I was a part of her, her own flesh and blood. People always say a mother’s heart is tied to her child’s, that a mother would give her life for her child. So why did she throw me away?

That afternoon, I left the shop.

Someone wanted to buy my car-a friend of a friend.

He offered 320,000. Normally, my car could have fetched over 350,000, but I was in a hurry to sell. He must have sensed my desperation and talked me down to 320,000.

I could live with 320,000. My bottom line was 300,000 anyway. Since he was a friend of a friend, I didn’t haggle further and spent the afternoon handling the title transfer and other paperwork.

Just like that, I was without a car. My heart was practically bleeding.

But there was no other way. To get through this current crisis, Meng Yifan and I needed cash. We had to save the last shop no matter what.

*Once I have money again, I’ll buy an even better one,* I told myself, trying to find some small comfort.

That evening, I was having dinner at a restaurant with my friend and the guy who bought my car.

Halfway through the meal, Song Xiaotian sent me a text.

Meng Yifan and I had been worried sick about him for the past two days, but he wouldn’t let us call him, leaving us to do nothing but fret.

When the text came through, I thought he was just letting me know he was safe. But when I saw the actual content, I froze in shock.

In the message, Song Xiaotian said he was going to prison. The police were coming to arrest him right now.