Chapter 70: A Meeting Without Prior Acquaintance

Page 1

Yu Nie is suffering from late-stage liver cancer?

The doctor told me clearly: had he not been injured this time, Yu Nie could have lived for about another year. But now, after what he’s been through, his body has reached its limit. At most, Yu Nie has half a year left.

Hearing the doctor's words, my mind went completely blank. I couldn't imagine what it would be like if this happened to me.

Yu Nie has lived a life of virtue; at eighteen, he was wrongfully imprisoned, spent ten years behind bars for nothing. He finally cleared his name after so much difficulty, only to be told he has less than half a year to live?

I instinctively turned my head to look at the sky outside. Is this what we call justice?

How much evil has He Chuan done? Why is he still alive?

Is it really true that good people die young and villains linger for ages?

The doctor urged me to encourage Yu Nie, but how could I even begin such a conversation?

A medal and a medical report made my head feel heavy and numb, and though I’d wanted to unwind with some videos, now I had no mood for it at all. I pulled the blanket over my head and tried to sleep.

For the next three days, except for necessary locks, I barely left my bed. Aside from Wang Zihao coming once to record my statement and the doctor’s visits, no one else came to see me.

On the third morning, I left the hospital alone, returned home, and changed into a clean set of black clothes.

I looked at my grandfather’s empty room, wondering what the old man was up to now—he left without a word.

After tidying myself, I stepped out the door as a fine drizzle began to fall under a gray sky.

I didn’t use an umbrella; instead, carrying the wooden box, I took a taxi to the cemetery.

By the time I arrived, Captain Cui’s funeral had already begun in an orderly manner.

Though not many people attended, the atmosphere was solemn; sorrow was written on every face.

I handed two red envelopes to Captain Cui’s wife—one from me, one from Yu Nie.

Then I turned to look at the child, about seven or eight, who looked so much like Captain Cui. Squatting down, I gently patted his head.

Page 2

"Big brother, why did my dad die?"

His eyes were red from crying; I didn’t know how to answer him.

I handed him the wooden box containing the medal. "Your father is a hero."

Behind those two words—hero—are countless stories of blood and tears.

I didn't stay long at the funeral and instead took a taxi back to the hospital; today was also the day Yu Nie was to be discharged.

When he woke, he told me he didn’t want to waste his remaining time on a hospital bed.

He said he already knew his time was short, so he wasn’t surprised or worried.

It was because of this late-stage liver cancer that he was released from prison early.

For ten years, he lived inside a vast prison; now he’d gained his freedom and wanted to see the outside world, to use his limited time and life to help more people.

The world is so big—he wanted to see it. It’s not easy to have a journey through this life.

After leaving the hospital, Yu Nie stayed at my place for three more days. Then, carrying only simple luggage, he set off on his own journey.

I accompanied him to the airport lounge where we first met.

The same KFC, different people.

It felt as if everything happened just yesterday.

"Jiang Huai, what do you plan to do next?" Yu Nie asked, eating a beef burger and sipping his drink, looking genuinely happy.

Monks must keep the precepts and not eat meat; even in prison, he’d always abided by this. But now, Yu Nie had let go—whether he ate meat or not didn’t affect his doing good; abstaining was merely a formality, and compared to action, formality mattered little.

Even my favorite Mexican chicken wrap tasted bland to me. "Of course, I'll keep running the shop."

I handed him a business card I’d made over the past two days. "If you ever feel your time’s up, remember to call me. I’ll handle your funeral—just make sure you’ve got the money ready."

Yu Nie grinned at me. "Don’t worry, we're so close—make sure to give me a discount when the time comes."

I laughed, promised him a deal, and then it was time for him to board.

I didn’t ask where he was going, but I knew we would meet one last time.

Page 3

On my way back from the airport, unable to find a taxi, I boarded the airport shuttle bus.

Leaning against the seat, I closed my eyes to rest. Midway, a couple carrying a child boarded and sat next to me.

The child was crying fiercely; no matter how his mother coaxed him, he wouldn’t stop.

There were many people on the bus. The child’s father kept apologizing to everyone and produced a bottle of milk.

"Be good, baby, drink your milk..."

The man held the bottle, stuffing the nipple into the child’s mouth.

The child refused to drink, spilling milk all over himself and his parents.

"Oh dear!"

In that moment, the mother’s eyes were filled with disgust.

The child’s cries grew louder. I squinted and saw the father whisper something to the mother. Then, carrying the child, they stood up and apologized to the driver, asking to get off at the front.

They said the child was too noisy and didn’t want to disturb other passengers.

The driver understood—the cries were so loud he could barely drive—so he agreed.

He stopped the bus and opened the door. The man had already gotten off. Just as the woman carrying the child was about to step down, I moved forward and suddenly grabbed her arm.

"What’s this? Your child’s cries are so loud I can’t sleep, and you just want to leave?"

The woman froze, not understanding my intentions.

Before she could respond, I frowned and turned to the driver. "What’s wrong with you? This isn’t a bus stop, yet you stopped—are you even a proper driver? Has your company not trained you? How can someone with so little common sense be driving?"

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