Chapter 4: Scenes Revisited, Emotions Unbound

Wu Ya had returned home.

Suiyan District, a stretch of old, low-built houses. He walked very slowly. As he gazed at the mottled alleyways on either side, warm scenes from his life before the age of eighteen flooded his mind. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion.

“At last, I’m back—the place that has haunted my dreams!”

Here were memories that would be etched in his heart forever. Ever since the area had been demolished, he’d wandered the world alone, never once returning. Now, standing here again, the sights and feelings overwhelmed him.

“Ya, walk a little faster. Are you still not feeling well?” His mother kept glancing back, her voice full of concern.

“It’s nothing, Mom. I just want to look around.”

“Haha, do you feel like you’ve survived a disaster? Let’s see if you’ll still be so reckless next time!” his father quipped, uncharacteristically cheerful.

Everything felt so heartwarming.

Building 34, Apartment 5.

As soon as he got home, Wu Ya headed straight to his bedroom. The house was a typical welfare apartment from that era: ninety square meters, with two rooms off the main hall. He had his own little space.

“Heh, you’re all still here.” He took a deep breath as he gazed at the posters covering the walls. That was the golden age of Chinese pop music—Li Chunbo, Gao Linsheng, Bald Li Jin… and so many others. Their songs swept across the nation, melodies that shaped the memories of a generation.

But Wu Ya’s favorite was always Anger Tong.

On the bookshelf nearby, a few scattered study materials from his college entrance exams remained. Competition wasn’t as fierce back then, so the exam didn’t bring the same all-consuming anxiety as it did now.

At his bedside stood a Red Cotton guitar, placed neatly. He’d saved up for a long time before finally buying it. Later, though, he stopped playing—he simply didn’t dare.

“Ya, take a rest while I cook,” his mother called out, her voice bright with joy. Her son had just been discharged from the hospital; he needed nourishment. On the way home, his father had picked out two plump, meaty hens for him.

“Alright,” Wu Ya replied, his thoughts returning to the present.

“Thank heavens for this chance. Everything will start anew today!”

July 28th, 1990—the turning point of his eighteen-year-old life.

Wu Ya got up and went to the kitchen. In his past life, though they were poor, his loving parents gave him all the warmth of a home. So much so that, at eighteen, he was still naïve and immature.

Help his parents? Do chores? Unthinkable! Less still would he have considered easing their burdens.

Now, stepping into the kitchen, he wanted to savor the joy of filial piety. To cook a meal for his mother, who had endured a lifetime of hardship, and his father, who held up the family without ever being broken. He would let them taste his red-braised chicken—a wish that had burned in him for twenty years.

“What are you doing in here? The kitchen’s full of smoke. You’ll choke!” His mother immediately tried to usher him out.

“Mom, let me do the cooking. You watch and guide me if I do anything wrong. Today, you and Dad get to try your son’s cooking.”

Their son’s cooking? The ordinary words made his mother’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“When did you learn to cook?”

“Haha, that’s a secret,” Wu Ya replied with a smile, then began preparing the meal with practiced ease under his mother’s doubtful gaze.

Soon—

“What’s that delicious smell? Wife, this doesn’t smell like your cooking!” His father entered, following his nose, and like his mother, his eyes went wide in astonishment.

“It’s… this boy who made it?”

Seeing was believing, but he still had trouble accepting it. If it came to causing trouble, no one in the neighborhood could outdo his son.

“Dad, wash your hands—time to eat!” Wu Ya, excited, brought out the red-braised chicken.

This was a moment his past life had never experienced and this life would never forget.

The family sat down together and ate heartily.

“Mmm, delicious, delicious,” his father mumbled, head down, full of praise. His mother said nothing, quietly chewing, but tears glistened at the corners of her eyes.

Knock, knock, knock.

Suddenly, the front door sounded.

“I’ll get it,” said his father, but Wu Ya got there first.

“Uncle Chen, you’re here,” he greeted as he opened the door.

A middle-aged man entered, his face gloomy.

Wu Ya’s parents hurried to their feet.

“Old Chen, have you eaten?” they asked.

“Eat? How could I have the appetite!” Chen Boyuan replied irritably, slumping into a chair by the table. “Wu Wanli, my wife wants a divorce! Tell me, what should I do?”

His father was stunned. In those days, the coal industry was in dire straits. Despite their hard work, the couple barely made three hundred yuan a month, and even then, they only received seventy percent. The rest was either converted into government bonds or owed by the mine.

With the reforms deepening, even these honest folk were forced to consider other options. After much discussion, they’d approached their friend Chen Boyuan. Each put up five thousand yuan and opened a small tailor shop. At the time, Zhongshan suits were all the rage. For days and nights, they worked, making over a hundred suits, hoping to strike it rich.

But lacking market information and only knowing how to toil blindly, they fell victim to changing times.

Zhongshan suits were out of fashion. No one wanted them. If they sold them off, they’d lose everything and only salvage a few secondhand sewing machines.

So, Chen Boyuan poured all his frustration onto Wu Wanli, blaming him for persuading him into this mess. If not for Wu Wanli’s urging, he would never have stepped into this quagmire, nor would his five thousand yuan be tied up so hopelessly!

Now, his wife fought with him daily, scolding him for being clever all his life, only to be duped by Wu Wanli.

“So, old Chen, what do you want to do?” Wu Wanli asked earnestly. After all, it was at his urging that Chen Boyuan had been persuaded, and he felt guilty.

“Give me back my five thousand yuan, and you can have the tailor shop,” Chen Boyuan said sullenly.

After years of friendship, he knew full well Wu Ya’s family’s situation. The five thousand yuan they’d invested had been borrowed from all over, with great difficulty. But he had no choice. If his wife couldn’t be pacified, divorce was certain.

“Old Chen, that’s not fair. No matter what, you agreed to open the shop. Now, just because business is bad, you want us to bear the whole burden? That’s a bit too much…” Wu Ya’s mother couldn’t help but speak up.

But before she could finish—

“Too much? Sure, I agreed, but only because old Wu begged me! Without him, would I have ever stepped into this pit? You’ve ruined me!” Chen Boyuan, seething with anger, descended into outright bluster.