chapter 15

Chapter 15

When there were only two months left before Cheng Yubai’s college entrance exams, Dad sold the three-wheeler he’d been driving for six or seven years.

He stopped going door to door collecting mountain goods and started staying home to take care of us. He said he’d already decided to quit the mountain goods business, rent a shop in town, and open a store. That way, he could earn some money and look after me at the same time. Cheng Yubai could focus on his studies, and I wouldn’t have to worry about being alone.

Both Cheng Yubai and I were completely in favor of Dad’s decision.

We’d gone into the mountains with Dad once before. The roads were rough and dangerous, many places clinging to cliffs with no guardrails at all-it looked terrifying.

Opening a shop sounded much better. Even if it didn’t make much money, at least it was safe.

After selling the vehicle, Dad kept thinking about where to open the shop and what to sell, but he couldn’t decide. Then one day, while helping me tidy up my room, he saw the little trinkets on my desk and suddenly had an idea.

“Manman, how about we open a boutique?”

We were sitting on our worn-out sofa at home when he excitedly discussed it with me. “We’ll open it right outside your school. I’ll find a storefront with a kitchen, so I can buy you lots of things you like and cook for you, too!

“Wouldn’t that be great?”

He smiled at me, eyes crinkling. “When school’s out, I’ll get to see you right away.”

I smiled back, but as I did, I noticed the white hairs at Dad’s temples, and my gaze froze.

Dad was almost fifty.

Looking at the wrinkles around his eyes, I realized so clearly: I hadn’t grown up yet, but Dad was already getting old.

I didn’t want him to grow old, and I didn’t want him to work so hard.

But at twelve, there was nothing I could do. That made me anxious and frustrated, and I couldn’t help feeling sad.

I tried to hold it in, but I couldn’t. I started to cry.

Even though I’d cried in front of him countless times, every time, Dad never knew what to do. He could only look at me helplessly. “Oh dear, oh dear, my little darling! Why are you crying all of a sudden?”

Dad’s palms were covered in calluses, so he was afraid of scratching my face. He wiped my tears with the back of his hand instead, but even that was rough, like tree bark, with years of wind and rain etched into every line. That’s when I understood just how hard his life had been.

It hurt to see, and I cried even harder.

Dad kept asking, “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” He thought someone had bullied me.

I just shook my head.

After a while, I choked out, “Dad, please don’t get old so fast, okay?”

I was still crying, but Dad smiled.

He smiled with deep comfort. “My daughter’s grown up. She knows how to care for others now.”

I wiped my nose, and just like when I was little, I burrowed into his arms. After hugging his arm tightly, I choked out, “Dad, wait for me. When I grow up, I’ll earn lots and lots of money for you, build you a big, beautiful house, and buy you the sweetest candy… So please don’t get old so fast, okay?”

Dad patted my back, and then, like coaxing a child, he stretched out his words and promised, “Okay.”

His eyes were gentle and loving, his voice full of warmth and joy. “I’ll wait for Manman, wait for Manman to earn money and build me a big house and buy me candy. I promise you, I won’t get old.”

Then he hooked pinkies with me.

“Pinky swear, hang it high, a hundred years without change. Whoever breaks it is a little dog!”

After sealing our pinky promise, I broke into a smile through my tears. “So childish!”

But I was so happy.

I jumped off the sofa and ran tap-tap-tap to my room, pulled out an old diary from the bookshelf, and wrote down every word of this special moment.

After closing the diary, I turned and ran back toward the living room.

I didn’t know when the door to my room had closed. I grabbed the handle and twisted it down.
“Dad!”

I opened the door. The battered sofa was empty; the person who had been sitting there just a moment ago had vanished without a trace.

I stepped out of the bedroom, looking around in confusion. “…Dad?”

The curtains fluttered gently in the breeze. The living room was silent, not a single reply. Panic welled up inside me as I searched everywhere for him.

“Dad? Dad! Come out, please! I can’t find you.”

Seeing the cup of murky kuding tea on the table, a wave of unbearable sadness crashed over me. I couldn’t help but stand there and cry, “Dad, where did you go? Don’t scare me…”

Through my tear-blurred eyes, I heard a noise at the front door.

I looked up and saw Dad unlocking the bolt, his whole body soaked as he walked out.

“Dad!”

I wiped away my tears and chased after him. “Dad, where are you going? Don’t walk so fast, I can’t keep up…”

A chilly wind swept through the stairwell. I was wearing a thin summer shirt, shivering down to my bones, with only one slipper left on my feet-the other lost somewhere along the way.

Unable to help myself, I started crying again as I chased after Dad, calling out to his back with all my strength, hoping he’d wait for me.

But Dad ignored me. He carried a bag of egg rolls and headed straight downstairs. The short flight of stairs stretched into an endless darkness, always keeping a not-too-long, not-too-short distance between us.

The harder I chased, the farther he seemed to go.

I sobbed, breathless, not knowing where he was headed, only able to follow behind him in vain, running and crying.

“Dad… Dad…”

Suddenly, I stumbled and fell to the ground.

Watching Dad’s figure grow smaller and farther away, I lay helplessly on the floor, gazing at his back, and with all my strength, let out a long, sorrowful cry: “Dad-”

It felt like a rough stone was lodged in my throat. I choked, unable to speak, and after a long while, my voice came out hoarse: “Wait for me, wait for me…”

Dad paused and stopped walking.

But he never turned around. His whole body was swallowed by darkness, and through the faint light, all I could see was a swollen, pale arm.

A soft sigh echoed around me.

Dad didn’t turn, but I heard his voice, still as gentle and loving as ever, only this time tinged with pain and helplessness.

He said, “Daughter, Dad has to go.”

I shook my head desperately, overwhelmed by despair and sorrow. “…No, Dad, I can’t do it without you. Please don’t go, don’t leave me, okay?”

This time, Dad didn’t say “okay.” He just stood there with his back to me. I hurriedly scrambled to my feet and rushed toward him.

But the closer I got, the slower my steps became.

I didn’t know how long it took, but finally I stopped behind Dad. I could have reached out and grabbed him, but staring at that cold, pale arm, I suddenly didn’t dare move forward-in fact, I felt an urge to retreat.

Realizing I was afraid of the person I loved most, I was filled with guilt and regret. I blamed myself for being scared, for hesitating.

But it was already too late.

I hadn’t been brave enough to grab Dad’s hand, so he didn’t wait for me. In the blink of an eye, he was far away, just a tiny dot.

The last words he left me were a blurry sentence-

“Daughter, live well.”

Before I could react, the stairs began to crumble inch by inch, the surrounding darkness collapsing in on itself. A feeling of weightlessness came from beneath me, my breath caught, and I plunged straight down.

“Dad! I’m sorry, it’s all my fault… it’s all my fault! Don’t go, Dad-”

“Manman!”

Cheng Yubai’s anxious voice rang in my ears. I woke from my dream to find myself lying on the sofa, my face streaked with tears.