Chapter 82 – Racing on a Bicycle

Chapter 82 - Racing on a Bicycle

She lifted her gaze to see the peeling and blistered wallpaper at home, spotted with moldy black patches.

In the cramped room, with a bed and wardrobe taking up space, only a narrow passage remained for one to squeeze through. The dim, low-wattage light cast an ashen hue around the confines, making the walls seem to close in on her, suffocating her.

She took deep breaths, but no amount of air could alleviate this sense of oppression.

She massaged her father's legs gently, gradually moving to his arms, repeatedly wiping away his saliva, tears, and excrement.

As she listened to her husband's unconscious babbling, her tears silently trickled down. Only when she wiped her face did she realize she was crying again.

"An An has been burdened by us, Old Shu. Our daughter said she'll never marry."

Her mood was downcast, and her tears seemed like a faucet that wouldn't turn off, always flowing without her awareness.

She pressed and cleaned her father's entire body, changing him into clean clothes.

Expressionless, her thoughts moved slowly, filled with the memory of her daughter closing the door and telling her she wouldn't be back for several days.

Perhaps it's for the best that he won't return.

Bending down, she lifted her once-robust husband, now frail, onto her back with a strap.

One by one, the lights in the room dimmed as she pushed the wheelchair, her trembling body struggling with each step, finally closing the door behind them.

She climbed the stairs slowly, her knees and lower back bowed under the immense weight.

The wheelchair thumped against the steps, secured to her waist by two straps to prevent it from tumbling down.

"Who's causing such destruction? Have some consideration, please!"

The jarring noise of the wheelchair provoked a neighbor's scolding. Normally, she would have apologized with guilt, but now her mind was consumed, focused solely on her basic instincts.

Reaching the first floor, she released the strap from her body and transferred her husband back into the wheelchair.

Shu Father tilted his head back, gazing at the night sky. Streetlights stretched in rows to the horizon, and the scattered stars were barely visible without careful observation, leaving only an austere, dark sky.

His saliva dripped onto the bib around his neck; his eyes unblinking, fixed on the heavens above.

Enduring the searing pain that had penetrated from her skin to her bones, Mrs. Shu maneuvered the wheelchair toward the nearest stretch of the Xiangjiang River promenade.

"Old Shu, we never had time for walks before. Shall we come here by the river every day from now on?"

...

It was past seven in the evening along the Xiangjiang River, yet the crowd showed no sign of thinning. Pushing Mr. Shu through the throngs of people, Mrs. Shu seemed to exist in a separate world.

She observed young, vibrant students walking side by side with their backpacks, affectionate couples holding hands and whispering secrets into each other's ears as they brushed past her, and energetic seniors energetically spinning their whips while playing with gyroscopes. She moved slowly past them all.

Approaching her from the opposite direction was a family: the mother held a little boy's hand, while the father pushed a stroller with a baby inside. Their faces radiated happiness. The little boy would periodically break free from his mother's grasp, dashing over to the stroller, "Come chase me, Sister!"

The father pretended to speed up the stroller, "Here I come!"

As they drew near and then passed her, the boy rushed by swiftly, creating a gust of wind. The couple offered her an apologetic smile before moving around her.

Happy families always seemed to share similarities. They too had once been so content.

"Old Shu, let's wait a bit, until they all go home."

A sudden wave of mental exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she involuntarily closed her eyes, her consciousness drifting into the darkness.

"God Card: 50:00"

The time for summoning had arrived.

Tang Fei roused from her slumber in the bathroom, tears streaming down her face. Her mind was still fuzzy, and it took a brief moment of disorientation before her mother's distress began to fade away.

The knocking on the bathroom door was loud and insistent, the door itself quivering under the impact. "Hey, are you okay in there? Is something wrong? Oh, this is driving me crazy! I've been waiting for almost forty minutes. Can you at least give me an update?"

Tang Fei hastily wiped away her tears and dashed out of the door. Glancing at her task list, she saw that it hadn't shown a failure yet, but it was already nine o'clock. Had the crowd thinned out? Was Mother Shu about to do something foolish?

She needed to hurry!

With an energy akin to a wound-up spring, she shot out of McKinsey's and raced towards Mother Shu's location.

"Hey, why did that girl end up crying after using the toilet?" A long queue had formed outside the restroom, and they watched in astonishment as Tang Fei rushed out with her face covered, eyes red.

"Did you rush her? You're always like that, can't you wait a bit? You called her out before she was done, and so loudly too. Does that delicate girl have no dignity?"

"Aah... Pfff, if she doesn't come out soon, I'm going to let it all out." The person suddenly jolted, releasing a pungent gas, then clamping their legs together before dashing into the restroom.

The crowd covered their noses, fanning the air in disgust, hoping to dispel the odor quickly.

...

By now, Shu's mother had already pushed Shu's father to the sandy bank by the river. Along the way, they encountered very few people.

A breeze carrying the scent of river water brushed against their faces. The tides rose and fell along the shore, while the dim lights on the opposite side, hidden in the darkness, seemed like a distant world, beckoning her over.

Crossing over, all pain would vanish, and her influence on her daughter would cease to exist.

She couldn't resist the allure and instinctively changed her direction, longing to reach the other side for a new beginning.

"Ah-ba, ah-ba."

Shu's usually silent father suddenly called out. He tilted his head, strapped to his wheelchair by bandages, with his nose already reddened from the river breeze.

Auntie paused in her steps, as if she just remembered that she was still pushing her husband.

"Laoshu, are you unwilling to walk with me?"

Shu's father gave no response, his drooling silence unable to answer her query.

Shu's mother gazed at her husband's face and, unable to resist, tidied the strands of hair that the wind had tousled, gently touching his cheek. "If you're willing to walk with me, blink."

Shu's father's fluttering eyelashes quivered, blinked three times in succession.

"Laoshu?! You still recognize me? You know everything, don't you?"

A tiny spark of hope flickered to life within Shu's mother.

But there was no further response, leaving her uncertain whether her husband's blinking had been mere coincidence.

The spark extinguished, leaving only a trail of black smoke.

"There might still be a chance for treatment. Maybe you could get better. If you got better... that would be enough." Shu's mother propelled her husband forward two more steps.

When the wheelchair sank into the mud and a stone lodged under its wheel, she seemed to exhale in relief, releasing her hold.

"Heaven hasn't intended for you to leave with me just yet," Auntie drew in a deep breath of the icy air, freezing her surging sorrow in its tracks.

She removed her padded coat and carefully draped it over Uncle Shu, tucking him snugly into its tight bindings.

She held his cold hand and, linking his sleeves together, slipped both hands into them. Kneeling down, she tied his shoelaces tightly.

"Forgive me, Old Shu, I just can't hold on any longer."

Rising again, she gazed at the tumultuous Xiang River, its roaring currents flowing northward, as if that direction held the end of all things.

She strode purposefully towards the water, oblivious to her husband's increasingly rapid and anxious cries behind her. Her vision was filled with rippling waves, her ears resonating with the roaring of the current, while icy river water seeped into her shoes.

...

Tang Fei pedaled furiously on a shared bicycle, her feet spinning like the wheels of a windmill, as fast as the highest speed of a fan, creating a blurred circle of motion. The soles of her shoes burned as if they were about to wear through, and her cotton jacket had already been discarded in the bike basket.

She poured all her strength into her pedaling, sweeping past the road like a gust of wind. A mother and son riding an electric scooter by the roadside watched in amazement as someone on a bicycle surpassed them, swiftly disappearing into the distance.

The sensation of this whirlwind passing by them left a vivid impression on their eyes.

"Mom, was that a bicycle just now? How could it be so fast?"

"Yes, dear. When you ride your bicycle, don't race, understand? It's very dangerous."

As the mother finished speaking, she suddenly felt something amiss. Racing on a bicycle?