redvbooks Chapter 25 The Zhang Family
Chapter 25 The Zhang Family
At 2 PM on the 27th of the twelfth lunar month, the train arrived in the county town 40 minutes late.
Zuo Cheng walked out of the station carrying a suitcase, and his brother-in-law waved to him from the crowd in the distance. His brother-in-law's name was Wang Jianjun. He owned a hardware store in the county town. He was an honest man, not talkative, and efficient. He was a typical small business owner in the county town.
"You've lost weight." Wang Jianjun took the suitcase and stuffed it into the trunk, then looked Zuo Cheng up and down. "Your sister made dumplings at home for you."
The car drove out of the county town and turned onto a bumpy country road. On both sides of the road were bare poplar trees and wheat fields covered with a thin layer of snow, and smoke rose from the villages in the distance. Zuo Cheng rolled down the car window, and cold air rushed in, carrying the smell of earth and firewood.
He had smelled this scent for over thirty years in his previous life, but he never smelled it again after moving to the city.
When I got home, my mother was already standing at the gate of the yard.
She was wearing a faded cotton-padded jacket, her apron was covered in flour, and her hair was much whiter than Zuo Cheng remembered. When she saw her son get out of the car, her eyes immediately reddened, but she smiled.
"It's good to be back, it's good to be back. Come inside quickly, it's cold outside."
The father was sitting in the main room watching television. When Zuo Cheng entered, he simply raised his hand and said, "You're back?"
"Yes, Dad's back."
That's all for now; nothing more is needed.
Zuo Cheng's older sister, Zuo Mei, came out of the kitchen carrying a plate of dumplings. She was four years older than him and worked as a Chinese language teacher at a primary school in the county town. She had a five-year-old daughter. She placed the dumplings in front of Zuo Cheng, put her hands on her hips, and said, "Eat first, then talk. You've got so little flesh on your face."
The family sat around the table eating. The dumplings were filled with cabbage and pork, made by my mother—thin-skinned and generously filled. Dipped in vinegar and chili oil, they tasted exactly the same as in my previous life.
Zuo Cheng ate more than thirty.
After finishing his meal, he took out the things he had brought home. He bought his father a down jacket, his mother a pair of cotton-padded leather shoes, his sister a scarf, and his niece a set of picture books. They weren't anything expensive, but he had personally picked them out at a shopping mall in Huaxia City.
The mother took the cotton-padded leather shoes, touched them again and again, and muttered, "How much did they cost?" "Why would a student like you buy such expensive shoes?" But the smile lines at the corners of her eyes could not be hidden.
Father held the down jacket up to himself, offering no comment on whether it was good or bad, only remarking, "This color is too bright." Mother rolled her eyes at him: "Bright looks good, but do you look good wearing that drab, tattered cotton-padded coat every day?"
The main room was filled with laughter.
In the evening, after helping his mother clean up the kitchen, Zuo Cheng stood in the yard for a while. There were far more stars in the sky than in the city, densely packed like a layer of scattered diamonds. When he was a child, he often counted stars in this yard, and would fall asleep while counting, only to be carried back into the house by his father.
My phone rang; it was a message from Yu Ying.
"Are you home yet?"
"We've arrived. Let's look at the stars in the yard."
Can you see the Milky Way where you are?
Zuo Cheng looked up at the sky and could vaguely make out a faint band of light.
"Yes, but it's vague."
Yu Ying replied with "envious," and then remained silent.
Zuo Cheng stared at the "envy" comment for two seconds, then put his phone back in his pocket.
The next morning, Zuo Cheng took his parents to the county hospital.
He only found out last night when he asked his parents for his previous medical report that his father had not gone to the hospital before, but instead asked his mother to save the money that Zuo Cheng had sent him for his future wedding.
This is perfect, I can bring my parents along for a full physical examination.
The results came back at noon, and all the indicators were normal. Her health was still quite good, and Zuo Cheng was relieved.
The father's report came out a little late. At three o'clock in the afternoon, the attending physician called Zuo Cheng into the examination room.
"Your father's condition needs attention," the doctor said, pointing to several red marks on the report. "His blood lipids are high, with significantly elevated LDL cholesterol. His blood pressure is also high, 158/99. Additionally, the carotid ultrasound shows a small plaque in the left carotid artery, but its location is problematic, posing a risk of stroke."
Zuo Cheng's fingers unconsciously clenched.
It matched the sudden stroke in his previous life—high cholesterol, high blood pressure, and warning signs of a stroke. However, in his previous life, his father only went to the hospital after the onset of the illness, almost resulting in a serious accident. In this life, it was discovered almost a year earlier, so the situation isn't too bad.
"Do I need to be hospitalized?"
"Not at the moment. The plaque is still small and hasn't caused significant vascular stenosis. It can be controlled with medication and lifestyle adjustments." The doctor handed over a prescription. "Start taking your blood pressure and cholesterol-lowering medications first. You must control your diet—low salt and oil, no alcohol, and avoid animal organs and high-fat foods as much as possible. I also recommend a check-up every three months."
Zuo Cheng took the prescription and nodded.
On the way out of the hospital, the father walked ahead silently, his hands in his coat pockets, his back slightly hunched. The mother whispered to Zuo Cheng from behind, "Your dad's just so stubborn. His face turned pale when the doctor was talking, but he's acting like nothing happened."
Back home, Zuo Cheng called his father to sit down in the main room.
"Dad, there's something I need to make clear to you."
"What's up?"
"Don't take on any more renovation jobs."
The father's brow furrowed immediately. He had been taking odd jobs in the county town for over a decade—painting walls, laying bricks, fixing plumbing and electrical systems—he did everything. His income wasn't high, but it was stable, and it was the family's main source of income besides his sister's salary.
"What will we eat if we don't work?" The father's voice was muffled.
"I'll support you." Zuo Cheng looked into his eyes. "I told you, I'm working on a project with a company and I'm making money. I've also started my own company; it's just starting out, but it's enough to support the family."
"What are you doing running a company as a student? Don't mess around—"
"Dad," Zuo Cheng interrupted him, his voice soft but firm, "the doctor said your cholesterol and blood pressure are high, and you're showing signs of a stroke. You're taking on odd jobs outside, eating boxed lunches, drinking cheap alcohol, and working all night on construction sites every day—that's the cause. If you continue like this, something serious will happen to you in less than three years."
The father opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"I transfer five thousand yuan home every month. That's enough for your and Mom's living expenses, medicine, and check-up fees. You stay home, go for a walk in the park in the morning, watch TV in the afternoon, and take care of your health." Zuo Cheng paused, took a breath, and said, "Your son will support you and Mom."
The main room remained quiet for a while.
The mother stood at the kitchen doorway, her apron twisted in her hands, her eyes red but she held back her tears.
The father lowered his head and stared at his rough hands for a long time. The back of his hands was covered with cracks and calluses from years of physical labor.
"Your company...can it work?" A hint of relenting finally appeared in his voice.
"It'll do." Zuo Cheng smiled. "When has anything your son ever failed to do?"
The father grunted, which was taken as tacit agreement.
The mother wiped her eyes at the kitchen doorway and turned to go inside. A while later, the sound of cooking could be heard from the stove—she used cooking to process her emotions, a habit she had maintained for decades.
Zuo Cheng sat in the main room, watching his father's back.
In his previous life, he never uttered those words. Not because he didn't want to, but because he wasn't qualified. How could someone who couldn't even support himself support a family?
This life is different.
He was qualified.
And he will make this qualification increasingly secure.