Chapter 2295: 2217 Not Dare to Cry in Front of Family

They didn't go out for dinner that evening; Yi Ren made two dishes, and the few of them ate and drank at home, which was quite pleasant.

After eating, Chang Yue grabbed the dishes to clear, while Zheng Ren and Xie Yiren took Heizi downstairs for a stroll.

It was late, the lights had just come on, and Heizi wasn't curious about everything like a puppy, running around everywhere. It lazily followed beside Xie Yiren, quiet and calm, not making a fuss.

"Let's go out this weekend." Xie Yiren said, holding Heizi's leash, strolling among the lanterns, turning her head to ask.

Yi Ren's nose tip was slightly upturned, looking mischievous and cute. Zheng Ren chuckled, reached out and tweaked her nose, then said softly, "Okay."

"You don't even ask where we're going?"

"With you and Heizi, anywhere feels the same—it's home." Zheng Ren said earnestly.

"Then I'll discuss it with Sister Yue." Xie Yiren said happily: "How about we go to the mountains to soak in hot springs and watch the stars?"

"Sure, I've heard you say there are hot springs near Hai Cheng before, but I never had the time."

"Then let's pick a weekend without flying knives or surgery, and we'll have a good two days of fun."

Zheng Ren held Yi Ren's hand, speaking lightly, his heart filled with joy.

Outside the residential area is the Community Hospital; ahead lies the morning market. Every morning there is a market here; at night it turns into a snack street, with all kinds of treats. Zheng Ren looked at the stalls, suddenly understanding why Chang Yue couldn't lose weight……

As the weather warmed, more and more people came out in the evening to stroll, eat skewers, and drink.

"Zheng Ren, one day I took Heizi for a walk, and a lady liked him so much she fed him skewer after skewer—he ate for half an hour."

Xie Yiren told Zheng Ren about Heizi; Heizi seemed to understand, rubbing his head against her hand as if to stop her from tattling.

"I heard that too much salt is bad for dogs." Zheng Ren tried to recall bits of knowledge.

"We still need to eat something." Xie Yiren said: "Otherwise, if we had little joy, anger, worry, thought, sorrow, fear, surprise, and ate and drank little, we might live long—but that would be too dull."

"Mm-hmm." Zheng Lao Ban nodded repeatedly: "You're right—moderation in all things; excess makes life boring."

Regarding Yi Ren's viewpoint, Zheng Ren almost had no capacity to resist.

Because they were walking Heizi, they didn't push through the lively crowd—some people like dogs, some don't; if they scared someone, they'd be asking for trouble.

Walking along a side path, Heizi sensibly stayed at the rear, as if Xie Yiren had already told him to.

The market was full of lively atmosphere; Zheng Ren smelled it and felt joy rise.

This, is the flavor of the human world.

Further ahead, a figure sat crouched on a quiet side path, blocking the way.

He held a bottle of white liquor, took a big gulp, had no side dishes, gulped it down with a glug-glug, then split his mouth in silent sobs.

Zheng Ren didn't find it strange—people who drink too much are all kinds of odd. Years ago, before he graduated, while interning at Fu Yuan Hospital, he once saw a guy holding a concert in the Emergency Department.

He glanced at the drinking man; the System Panel flickered slightly red but gave no diagnosis. It was just a sub‑healthy state, nothing special.

Joy, anger, sorrow, pleasure are ordinary in the world. Zheng Ren didn't think to intervene—he's human, not a god; he couldn't manage all that.

Zheng Ren took Yi Ren's hand and whispered, "Let's change our route."

Xie Yiren nodded slightly, but Heizi, smelling the alcohol, refused to move no matter what.

It simply squatted, stuck out its tongue, and panted while looking at the man not far away.

Zheng Ren was truly worried.

It's all because of that Su Yun, forcing Heizi to drink! Whenever he sees someone drinking, he can't walk.

Sigh, Zheng Ren let out a heavy breath.

"Hey brother, what's wrong with you?"

Just as Zheng Ren was about to have a serious talk with Heizi about life and the path, a stall owner's wife came over with a small plate of leftover peanuts someone else had eaten.

"Eat something; drinking on an empty stomach will make you feel bad soon."

"Thank you." The man said politely, eyes red.

"Nothing in this world is impossible to get over; don't hurt yourself." The stall wife, bulky but thoughtful, gave him a rough‑hewn comfort.

A kind word warms three springs; the man didn't know why his emotions collapsed, and a single sentence made him burst into loud sobs like a wronged child.

"What's going on!" The boss came running with a cleaver, thinking someone was causing trouble.

"Don't scare people into thinking it's weird." The stall wife said: "This brother just bought a bottle of wine, sat on the curb drinking, and kept crying while he drank."

The boss glanced at the man and sighed.

They're all people rushing to make a living; you have to work hard just to get by, and I don't have the energy to meddle in others' affairs. If you can sort out your own matters, that's already good.

"It's fine, it's fine." The man rubbed his face randomly with his hand and said, "I just feel upset inside."

"My dad might not make it; the doctor said to bring him back, maybe I can still see home, see my family."

"I feel upset inside, stifled and anxious."

"I don't dare cry in front of my family, afraid they'd feel bad too."

"I'll just find a place to drink a little, cry a while, and then I'll be okay."

The man explained haltingly, tears sliding down his cheeks as he spoke.

He wasn't wearing a shirt on his upper half, choking out the words he couldn't say to his family.

They're all strangers; whatever he said was said. A big drunk, venting pressure—there's no chance of a reply.

After speaking, he patted his butt and left—after all, nobody knows anyone.

He didn't expect crying would help; everyone just gets by, who has the mood to help him?

It's like the old inns where people from all over gathered. Many unspeakable secrets suffocate in the heart; they'd drink a few liang of baijiu, whisper a few lines they couldn't tell even close friends, then at dawn each went his own way.

"Sick? What illness?"

The man covered his mouth, still sobbing, when suddenly a voice came.

The voice wasn't loud, somewhat gentle, but in the noisy market nothing could block it from reaching his ears.

"The doctor said it's just old age." The man sobbed in reply: "He's over seventy, his heart can't keep beating."

"Any medical records?"

"……" The man was stunned for a moment; he lifted his head and looked toward the voice.

Clean, neat T-shirt, kind and honest face; the streetlight behind him shone, casting a shadow.

The light from the streetlight spread out behind him, like a halo enveloping the young person. There was no darkness, only an almost infinite brightness.

A kind of inexplicable trust welled up in the man's heart.