Chew Slowly Chapter 7

The rich fragrance of jasmine made one feel comfortable, and perhaps for this reason, Du Hongwei was in good spirits today. She had dinner with Chen Zongqian, and the mother and son shared a moment of warmth in the hospital room.

The TV was muted, and Chen Zongqian casually switched the channel, only to find that the entire viewing history was filled with that one reality show about finding lost relatives. He flipped down a page, and it was still there; Du Hongwei must have watched countless episodes.

“Why are you watching this?” Chen Zongqian remembered that Du Hongwei preferred watching dramas or documentaries. She usually complained that variety shows were too noisy and didn’t understand what those people were performing on a stage.

Family reunion shows rely heavily on emotional appeals. Du Hongwei was romantic and sensitive, so Chen Zongqian paused for a moment before continuing, “The doctor said you must maintain a cheerful mood.”

Chen Zongqian didn’t want to sigh in front of her. His heart was heavy, but his tone remained light. Du Hongwei was suffering from malignant bone tumor, commonly known as bone cancer. Because of this illness, she had retired from her teaching position before reaching retirement age and moved from the school to the hospital.

She had been ill for nearly two years. They had visited every hospital and consulted every doctor. But fate showed her no mercy. To this day, Du Hongwei was still enduring countless pains. Her bones were fractured and deformed, and beneath the blanket, the skin covered by her clothes was gradually beginning to ulcerate.

This was a sign that the disease had progressed to the middle stage.

“Being moved isn’t the same as being sad. I’m clearly in a good mood.” Du Hongwei laughed at Chen Zongqian’s scrutiny. Her son made a living by helping people with lawsuits; his mouth and mind were quick and sharp, and he sensitively caught the contradiction in her words.

The smile on her face was faint, and a lingering sorrow remained in her eyes. Du Hongwei had cried that afternoon and only claimed to be happy after seeing Chen Zongqian. The current Du Hongwei didn’t like looking in the mirror much, so she rarely knew what she looked like in the eyes of others.

Before falling ill, people often said that Du Hongwei’s life had been smooth sailing—a happy family, a successful career, nothing amiss. She would also wonder if her life was truly as people described. Not entirely. Du Hongwei had wounds in her heart that could not be filled, and regrets that remained unfulfilled to this day.

“Your father called me from his overseas exchange program. He said the hospital there is excellent and wants to take me over,” Du Hongwei mentioned the recent phone call.

Chen Zongqian had also discussed this with his father. If better medical conditions were available, he would certainly support Du Hongwei going. This matter had been brought up a long time ago, but Du Hongwei’s condition had been fluctuating, and with various minor issues constantly arising, the matter had been delayed.

“He told me that you hadn’t agreed,” Chen Zongqian used a wet wipe to clean her hands, then began trimming her nails.

Chen Zongqian was a successful adult, only lacking a family of his own. He had a stable job and no worries about his livelihood; Chen Zongqian could take good care of himself. Professor Chen had recently received an email from a foreign university expressing interest in hiring him as a specially appointed professor, so she didn’t need to worry about her husband’s career or life either. Furthermore, both sets of grandparents had passed away, so she had no obligation to care for the elderly.

Du Hongwei remained in Pingzhou Port, absolutely not because she was concerned about these things.

In the notebook by her bedside, a string of numbers was recorded—the phone number for the production team of the family reunion show, which she had diligently copied down while watching.

“The day after I finished chemotherapy, I dreamed of my younger brother.” Because of this deep longing, she had been watching the family reunion show for several days.

In that show, many people suffered misfortunes similar to hers—family separation, unable to see each other for decades. But persistent searching could create miracles. Every time Du Hongwei saw the “Door of Hope” open, her eyes would well up with tears.

She couldn’t help but wonder when the door locked in front of her would open.

She had taught literature, ancient poetry, and the many moments of disappointment and triumph within those verses on the podium for over ten years. Du Hongwei loved words imbued with deep emotion. Why was that line about separation written so movingly? Because the separated person yearned for the moment of reunion.

Du Hongwei’s nails were neatly trimmed. Chen Zongqian held her hand, bowing his head and resting it against her palm. He said, “I’m sorry.”

If he hadn’t let go of her hand back then, if he had kept watching Xiao Ran, would things not have turned out this way today?

“If we’re going to talk like that, we all made mistakes.” Du Hongwei had never blamed him. Her younger brother was lost while in his care, and Chen Zongqian had always been the most heartbroken person. “Mom wants to wait a little longer. If I can’t wait, you must always remember to find your brother and bring him home.”

Du Hongwei was tired; it was time for her to rest. As they said goodbye, she remembered the young nurse mentioning that a typhoon was coming soon. Summer was almost over, yet Pingzhou Port was still expecting a typhoon. With bad weather approaching, Du Hongwei gave a few extra reminders. Her words were gentle, and Chen Zongqian was never impatient.

The night sky in Pingzhou Port was not purely dark. The city lights shone outward, making the sky mostly a yellowish-red color, with the moon obscured by the polluted air.

Presumably because the typhoon was approaching, the clouds were thick, appearing darker than usual. The wind was also strong, carrying a heavy, damp chill that hit one’s face. Besides the numbers on the warning message, the personal experience made Chen Zongqian realize even more clearly that a strong tropical storm was imminent.

At times like this, going outside became unsafe. If the Law Firm had to work overtime, everyone in the office would use all their knowledge to argue for those two days at home.

During the typhoon, Chen Zongqian worked from home with his laptop. The curtains on the floor-to-ceiling window weren’t fully drawn. Outside was the city, battered by wind and rain; inside was him.

Although he was at home, his work was no less demanding. He received many calls throughout the morning, to the point where Chen Zongqian got a headache whenever he heard the ringtone. Fortunately, his personal number was separate from his work number. He pulled out one SIM card, temporarily cutting off work calls.

But before long, his phone rang again. This number was not used for work; Chen Zongqian had only given it to close acquaintances. Yet, the screen displayed an unfamiliar local number. He wondered if it was a wrong number or a scam.

He ignored it. After ringing for a while, the caller quickly hung up. Chen Zongqian typed on his keyboard for another half hour and then received another unfamiliar call.

Puzzled, Chen Zongqian hesitated for a moment but finally answered the phone.

There was the sound of rain on the other end, seemingly hitting corrugated iron, a very crisp sound. The sound of water was distinct, but the person on the other side didn’t speak. Chen Zongqian listened for a long time, unable to distinguish whether the other faint sound was the wind or human breathing.

He asked a question again, and the person on the other side vaguely mumbled, “I’m sorry,” and quickly hung up.

It was a strange call. That phrase, “I’m sorry,” was suppressed and muffled, and the voice lingered in his ear. Chen Zongqian couldn’t recall anyone familiar associated with it. It felt like a mere prank. Unable to figure it out, he quickly dismissed this insignificant matter.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, the rain was also pouring down.

The wind was strong. Even with an umbrella, the rain drifted in from all directions. Xu Qiaochuan rushed over, soaked halfway through. His drenched clothes clung to him, but this alone was not enough to make him feel cold.

“Is that your mother?”

Xu Qiaochuan jolted back to reality, looking sweatily at the police officer across from him. His lips trembled, his throat was dry, and he was momentarily speechless, utterly unable to answer the question.

He stared fixedly at the person. The police officer patiently asked again, and Xu Qiaochuan nodded vigorously.

Lu Xiaoyun’s body was completely covered by a white sheet. Someone asked him, “Do you want to take a look?”

As her son, he should see her one last time. Xu Qiaochuan’s reaction was slow. He didn’t know how he had rushed to the Old Dormitory Building of the Garment Factory, nor how he had emerged from it.

Lu Xiaoyun’s face suddenly blurred in his mind. Xu Qiaochuan couldn’t recall her original appearance, but it shouldn’t have been like this.

“She fell down the stairs. This is an old building, and the stairs are broken.”

Xu Qiaochuan stared straight at the bloodstains, trying to piece together the situation from those few sentences. He felt a sense of synesthesia; Xu Qiaochuan felt his own head suffer a heavy blow, a body tumbling from upstairs, broken bones piercing the lungs. He shared Lu Xiaoyun’s pain but did not die with her.

The bloodstains on the floor were chaotic, indicating that someone had struggled bitterly there. No one discovered her then, and Lu Xiaoyun hadn’t managed to crawl out. She stopped in this narrow, dark stairwell.

Upstairs, where Lu Xiaoyun had lost her footing and fallen, there was a mobile phone. Xu Qiaochuan recognized the object and knew the password was his birthday.

The phone was paused on the communication page. The most recent call was an hour ago. Lu Xiaoyun had spent over ten minutes on the phone with someone in the final moments of her life.

Xu Qiaochuan’s lungs stung, and his breathing was intense and rapid. He said, “That was my dad.”