Chapter 10 (1/2)

When Shen Bin was still locked up, his buddies and I went to visit his mother on her death anniversary. After all, she had led a sad, pitiful life. Or maybe, there had already been something special about her to me—she was Shen Bin’s mom after all.

This time her son was here too. It was probably his first time visiting his old lady’s grave.

I say grave but there was no mound of dirt or headstone. It was just one of the most basic marble urns that took up the cheapest spot in the columbarium wall that cost forty bucks a year. It wasn’t easy finding it out of nearly a thousand other urns.

No. 779 Ding Hongmei.

The picture in front of the urn was a picture of Ding Hongmei in her earlier days when she worked for the cotton factory. She was wearing a blue sweater and had her hair tied into two pigtails. The dimple on her right cheek made her look sweet and innocent. Seeing this picture reminded me of the old woman clutching my wrist before dying. This was a cruel world.

We tidied up a bit, wiping the dust off the cubicle and replacing the red cloth on the urn with a new one. Then, we placed the fruits, pastries and flowers down.

Then her son performed the bow first.

Lin Dongfu and the rest were well-behaved and did not make a peep. I watched from the side as he bowed three times and took out a small, pretty bottle from his jacket. It was perfume. He placed it by the urn and brushed the one-by-one photo on it with his finger. It was the photo from her ident.i.ty card in which her age was already evident.

I’d rather he cried. She gave birth to him and raised him after all. She might have lost all her reputation and lived miserably but she still loved her son. Ding Hongmei’s illness acted up after he got locked up so that day at the hearing was probably their last time seeing each other.

He bowed three more times before calling me over.

I heard him whisper, “This is Qian-ge. He’s really good to me.”

I tucked my head down and couldn’t lift it up again—I was crying.

The youngsters were really considerate and prepared the joss paper to burn in the allotted place given by the cemetery.

“Why’re you crying when I’m not even crying? You’re such a softie,” he mumbled beside me before coughing a few times. Burning paper money created lots of smoke. “Well, she had it good at one point but she got her s.h.i.+t completely messed up.”

He attempted to smile more naturally but his eyes got red. Quickly, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

He had done the same thing when he was brought out of the court hearing.

Oh you, silly boy, acting all tough like that.

I really wanted to squeeze him tight in my arms but all I could do was pat his shoulder and ma.s.sage his nape with my thumb. Thank goodness he was not too much taller than me or else that action would have been fairly difficult.

“Just let it out, Shen-ge. You’ll feel better.” His loyal brothers were rubbing at their eyes, too. Lin Dongfu stuttered in between his sobs, “Aunty was…actually really nice. It was just bad luck…meeting that f.u.c.king b.a.s.t.a.r.d…”

“I’m the one with the dead mom and I’m fine. What’s the f.u.c.king deal with you guys actin’ more miserable than I am?” His voice was a bit hoa.r.s.e but he looked fine when he opened his eyes.

I did not know how to console him because lots of things do not mean much even when uttered.

I had a typical bossy dad and affectionate mom and our family was harmonious. I couldn’t understand the pains he felt.

All I could do was continue to rub his back.

He reached back and grabbed my hand. “Thank you, ge.”

You don’t need those formalities with me, silly.

×××

We went for a walk after the visit.

He said there wasn’t much work recently so he could stay for a few days.

Lin Dongfu and the guys left first. Those little punks were more grown up and started to do proper things. One was doing an apprentices.h.i.+p at a poultry shop. He said that all he did other than chop white cut chicken was chop more white cut chicken, and that he wanted to puke whenever he saw a chicken. Another one was waiting at a hotel and learning to make Western pastries so as to have a skill. Lin Dongfu’s family was pretty well-off owning a motorbike shop—the brand sponsored by Gong Li. He had been helping with the shop keeping.

What would Shen Bin be doing if he hadn’t gone in? He might just have gotten into university. I mean, he got a diploma in the slammer, right? And even if he hadn’t gotten into university, he could have learned hairdressing or cooking or chauffeuring…

“Whatcha thinking ‘bout?” He kicked me.

We had already walked quite a distance, almost to my old school. It was a well-known, key high school of our province and had several famous alumni, including the former minister of foreign affairs, Shen ×. My dad was so happy when I got in that he got stinking drunk.

“Hey, I’m talking to ya.” Then he saw the school’s gates. “Ohhh! You graduated from this place, right?”

He puckered his lips, his face screaming ‘so what’s the big dealio?’