Chapter 56: No One Responds Anymore (Monthly Ticket Bonus Chapter 2??)

Fu Fei stared intently at the object on the ground, eyes stinging with tears yet unblinking, legs heavy as lead, unable to lift them.

He was having another hallucination.

“Ha—” A bitter smile crept across the young man’s weary face.

That cloth bundle… how could it be? It must… must be another hallucination!

His illness had grown worse.

Fu Fei dragged his heavy legs forward, took a few steps, and saw the cloth bundle still there.

His heart thudded hard.

This was the first time since that incident two years ago that Fu Fei had felt his heart beat so vividly—he was still alive.

His throat suddenly turned dry, like sandpaper scraping, his eyes burned fiercely, his body trembled uncontrollably, teeth chattering, clacking together with a rapid tap-tap-tap-tap.

A flash of light suddenly sparked in his eyes; he hurried over, crouched slowly, hesitating, fearful, too afraid to reach out for half a lifetime.

If it’s real…

If it’s real!

“Thump, thump, thump!!!”

Fu Fei’s heartbeat quickened, blood surged to his head, and he collapsed face-first onto the ground.

His forehead struck something—not the warm, sun-heated earth—but a cloth bundle, its cotton texture unmistakable.

This cloth bundle, he had longed for over two years, eight hundred nights, over twenty thousand hours.

Fu Fei snatched up the bulging cloth bundle.

The sealed mouth stitched with cotton thread, the sealing tape, the blazing red stamp—all still there.

He clutched the bundle tightly, his finger wounds splitting open, blood oozing red; his throat first emitted a few choked “huh, huh” sounds, then he clapped a hand over his mouth, stifling sobs that echoed like a wounded beast pacing inside an iron cage.

Long after.

He smiled, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes.

The numbness in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by light.

Brighter and brighter.

Fu Fei leapt to his feet and sprinted toward the cotton mill.

“I didn’t steal it! The money’s here! Look! I didn’t steal a cent!!” He held up the bundle, showing the seal to everyone, “Look! Look! The seal’s intact, the red stamp’s whole—I didn’t take a single cent!”

Many workers were still overtime at the cotton mill.

Hearing the noise, several came out.

The nearest one saw the seal and red stamp on the bundle and was stunned.

Two years ago, Fu Fei’s case caused a huge uproar; had the law been stricter and had factory leadership not protected him, he’d have been jailed at minimum—even if not jailed, re-education was certain.

But now.

This bundle had appeared—still looking freshly withdrawn from the bank—this… this… this was impossible.

The factory director stepped out of his office, saw Fu Fei holding up the bundle, and his pupils shrank sharply.

Fu Fei rushed toward him, “Director, the lost money’s been found! I didn’t embezzle—look, the seal and red stamp are still there! I found it!”

He repeated over and over that he hadn’t stolen, eyes bloodshot, emotions wild, nearly insane.

The factory director took the bundle from Fu Fei’s hands, tore open the seal, and inside lay a neatly stacked pile of large-denomination bills.

He counted again.

One thousand four hundred and eighty-five.

Not a single fen missing.

“Where did you find it?” The factory director stood on the steps, his piercing gaze fixed on Fu Fei.

“The alley closest to the south gate of the factory,” Fu Fei said.

“That’s strange,” said the stern-looking factory director, puzzled.

Lost where it was lost, found where it was found.

It was like a ghost.

As a veteran soldier, he didn’t believe in ghosts—but this event had no logical explanation.

The man handed the full cloth bundle to the finance department, then patted Fu Fei on the shoulder.

“Comrade Fu is a good comrade.”

Hearing the leader’s affirmation, Fu Fei’s expression trembled; he crouched down, covered his face, sobbing so hard he couldn’t speak, tears and snot streaming.

A pitiful sight.

After crying, the light in his eyes gathered stronger.

Suddenly he laughed, his whole body shaking with laughter.

“Hahaha—”

The young man stood up, his shoulders—bent for years under false accusations—straightened, face streaked with tears, yet smiling with release.

He bowed deeply to the director, then ran out.

He ran fast—from the cotton mill to the riverbank, cupped his hands around his mouth, and shouted “Aaaah! Aaaah! Aaaah!” as if screaming out all the bitterness and pain he’d buried for over two years.

Afterwards, the factory office held a meeting.

Considering Fu Fei had returned the factory’s loss, the cotton mill revoked his administrative punishment and adjusted his work assignment.

The money loss incident had damaged the factory’s reputation—he couldn’t return to finance, but he could still work in a regular workshop.

Fu Fei said nothing, reported for duty quietly.

Everyone in the Fu family assumed the matter was over.

But they didn’t expect.

Less than half a month later, Fu Fei swapped jobs and slipped away quietly, never setting foot there again.

Once something happens, it happens—it can’t be undone.

These long two years were a scar on his heart; touch it, and it ached. He wanted to begin anew.

…

At the same time.

A dilapidated courtyard on West Street.

The tiled roof grew moss, layers of moldy green creeping down the ridge; the courtyard walls were peeling, window frames pasted with yellowed newspaper, the half-faded Spring Festival couplet on the lintel rustled softly in the breeze.

An old woman with white hair lifted the glossy bamboo curtain and stepped out, holding a chipped enamel basin, heading to fetch water to wash her grandson’s feet; as she neared the water vat, a flash of light blinded her.

Gu APO squinted her old eyes, looked again—the gold ring she’d lost over two years ago sat quietly atop the water vat.

“Clatter—”

The enamel basin bounced and rolled away across the ground.

The old woman staggered toward the vat, her twig-like fingers gripping the gold ring tightly, pressing it into her palm—the carved patterns dug into her skin, sharp with pain.

Her palm hurt.

Gu APO snapped back to reality, stared blankly, opened her hand—the ring was still there.

Instantly.

Two trails of cloudy tears spilled from her clouded eyes.

She jolted, collapsed onto the ground, muffled sobs escaping her throat.

“Why did you only come out now? Why only now?! Too late! Too late!”

“My son—!”

“Cuicui—!!”

“Mother found the ring, Mother has money to buy grain—come back, come back!!”

Gu APO clenched her right fist and pounded her chest hard—she hurt.

“Mother’s useless, Mother lost the ring, didn’t get grain—Mother’s useless, son, Cuicui, Mother’s useless!”

“Why won’t Heaven take this old, useless life of mine…”

At that moment, a two-year-old boy ran barefoot from the house.

Seeing his grandmother crying, he ran over, clumsily wiping the deep wrinkles on her face with his small hands.

“Grandma, don’t cry, Sunzi will protect Grandma.”

Hearing her grandson’s words, Gu APO’s heart ached more; she hugged him tighter, tears flowing harder.

Memories of two years ago flooded her mind.

In the dead of winter, snow fell heavily; the entire county faced grain shortages, and her daughter-in-law Cuicui had just given birth.

Her newborn grandson cried weaker than a kitten; she carried her last gold ring out to trade for grain, but before reaching the black market, the ring vanished—she returned home empty-handed.

Her son, heartbroken for the child, went out to borrow rice, rushed too fast, slipped, collapsed, and died before anyone found him—his body already frozen stiff.

Cuicui, hearing the news, suffered massive hemorrhage, blood soaking half the bedding.

When Gu APO returned with help, Cuicui’s eyes were wide open, unblinking, unwilling to close.

For two years, Gu APO had suffered without respite.

She blamed herself—her carelessness had led to her son and daughter-in-law’s deaths; had it not been for her grandson, she’d have died long ago.

Now this gold ring appeared out of nowhere—what good was it? Her family was gone.

Her family was gone!

The boy imitated his grandmother’s soothing gestures, gently patting her shoulder—small, innocent, obedient.

Gu APO’s eyes were bloodshot, “Grandma’s fine, Grandma will raise you, make you strong, so when we meet your parents below, you’ll have pride.”

The gold ring could be exchanged for a lot of money—enough to fund her grandson’s education up to high school!

That day, similar strange incidents occurred frequently throughout the county.

Some adults found long-lost items; some children inexplicably received large packages of White Rabbit milk candies; a little girl recovered her favorite hair tie…

Fengshou Team.

Lu Baozhen wanted to eat White Rabbit milk candies, so she raised her hand and shouted, “Hei Jinli.”

“Li Li.”

No response.

“Li Li?”

Still no response.

Lu Baozhen, spoiled by her family, had little patience; she dug at the place where Hei Jinli resided with her uneven fingernails.

Scratching streaks of red into her skin.

She seemed not to feel the pain, digging harder and harder, shouting as she did: “Li Li, come out!”

Hei Jinli had long vanished from this world, so of course could not respond.

“I want you to come out! Give me White Rabbit milk candies! I want milk powder and meat buns too!!” Lu Baozhen commanded.

She’d eaten only half a bowl of cornmeal gruel the night before; she wanted better food.

Su Yuxian came to deliver eggs to Lu Baozhen; at the door, she heard voices from inside and stopped, straining to listen.

“Li Li, if you don’t come out, I won’t go find Big Cai and Er Cai anymore.” Lu Baozhen spoke as if conversing with someone, looking extremely displeased.

Through the door crack, Su Yuxian caught a glimpse of the room’s interior.

The little brat sat on the edge of the bed, legs swinging, staring intently at her hands, scratching fiercely with one hand while muttering under her breath.

Suddenly, Su Yuxian remembered the face Lu Baozhen had shown before… pitch-black eyes with no light, an eerie expression—nothing like a normal child.

Her heart sank instantly; a chill shot from her soles up through her entire body.

No good—I must calm myself down!

Su Yuxian peeled the eggshell and shoved the whole egg—white and yolk—into her mouth.

Chewed it a few times and swallowed.

Afraid of being haunted by a ghost, she didn’t enter, slipping away quietly.

There wasn’t even any sunlight now!

Thus, the two characters in the original novel—motherly affection and filial piety—never even had time to build a bond; they began by hating each other.

Lu’s mother saw the light still on in her granddaughter’s room, slipped on her straw sandals, and stepped out.

Inside, she saw Lu Baozhen’s hands covered in scratches, some still oozing blood.

“Oh my! Baozhen, what are you doing?!” Lu’s mother grabbed her granddaughter’s hands, hurriedly tended the wounds, face filled with anguish. “How did your hands get like this? Where’s your stepmother?”

“I don’t know,” Lu Baozhen replied.

She lifted her head, dazed, staring at Lu’s mother. “Nai, Li Li isn’t answering me.”

Lu’s mother seemed to recall something; she released Lu Baozhen’s hand, stepped back two paces, avoided her gaze, even dared not look at her granddaughter.

She forced a smile. “…Is that so? Maybe it’s asleep.”

She didn’t even want to mention that demon. She feared being targeted by Li Li—she wanted to live a few more years; what if the demon wanted to drain her lifespan?

Lu’s mother was peculiar: she couldn’t bear to give up the benefits Hei Jinli brought, yet she fundamentally refused to deal with it.

She was terrified—so terrified she didn’t even want to speak its name.

“Li Li never sleeps,” Lu Baozhen said.

Lu’s mother’s face paled slightly.

See? Doesn’t even need sleep—what else could it be but a demon!

“Is…is that so?”

She didn’t want to talk about such an unlucky thing late at night, so she changed the subject. “Did you eat the egg?”

“No,” Lu Baozhen replied, swallowing saliva—she didn’t even like eggs much. “I didn’t see any egg.”

Lu’s mother’s face hardened. She stormed out, straight to her son and daughter-in-law’s room, and pounded on the door.

“Su Yuxian, get out here! Stealing a child’s egg—why don’t you choke on it!”

Su Yuxian rolled over, silent.

Her hand waved a palm-leaf fan.

She was married to Lu Yizhou—she was a Lu family member too! What was wrong with eating an egg!?

Her mother was right: a daughter-in-law shouldn’t always yield, or the in-laws won’t treat her like a person.

She must resist!

Her husband couldn’t divorce her.

Once Su Yuxian realized this, she paid no mind to her mother-in-law’s cruel insults.

Lu’s mother ranted, switching insults, saying the nastiest things possible, spewing for over half an hour. Exhausted, she kicked the door and left, still grumbling.

As she passed Lu Baozhen’s room, she called out: “Baozhen, blow out the lamp and go to sleep.”

She didn’t say she’d boil another egg for her.

“Okay,” Lu Baozhen blew out the lamp, didn’t lie down, just sat there. Moonlight streamed through the window onto her, her face flickering in the glow, indistinct. She whispered softly, “Li Li, I’m hungry.”

The room fell silent.

The next day.

With no work to do, Lin Zhao slept until past nine, waking up feeling suffocated.

She opened her eyes: the Long Fengtai lay sprawled across her, quietly playing with their fingers.

“...”

“Awake?” Lin Zhao’s voice was hoarse from sleep; she patted the two little dumplings.

“Mm,” Si Cai answered crisply.

He leaned in, pressed a wet kiss on his mother’s cheek, grinned, his smile sweet as—

“Mama,” he called, then buried his head against Lin Zhao’s neck, nuzzling softly, clinging tightly.

Who could resist that?

Lin Zhao certainly couldn’t.

She sat up, hugged the two little sweethearts, squeezed them hard, and the Long Fengtai giggled.

After the fuss, Lin Zhao dressed the siblings in new clothes and got them up.

She fetched water to wash their faces, tied her long, waterfall-like hair back loosely, and braided Si Cai’s hair.

Si Cai inherited her thick hair—darker and denser than other village children’s, fine and soft; just by her hair, you knew she was a darling little girl.

Lin Zhao combed it smooth, separated a layer of hair on top, tied a half-ponytail with a medium red bow, added a slightly uneven blunt fringe and a bob—cuteness doubled.

“So pretty.”

The little genius understood praise; she beamed with pure, bright joy, her voice soft and sweet. “Mama piaopiao.”

Da Cai and Er Cai returned on time.

The brothers were drenched in sweat.

Si Cai wanted to show off her hair to her brothers, waddled over—but caught a stench, wrinkled her delicate nose, turned, and scampered away.

Cai Cai Disgusted.jpg