Chapter 9 — The Day My Father Remarried

To be completely honest with you, my father said, keeping his voice low as if testing the weight of the air between us. Recently... you have grown very close to your eldest uncle, haven't you? My heart tightened instantly, a subtle tremor rippling through my chest, yet I forced my outward expression to remain entirely calm. Just giving him a call every now and then. Is there something the matter, Father? There is nothing, he replied, though a fleeting shadow of unnatural hesitation crossed his features. It is only that... your eldest uncle is a man of many schemes and calculations. You are still young, so do not simply listen and obey everything he tells you. I looked up at him, my gaze steady. He is my own blood uncle. Surely he would not try to harm me, would he?

The corners of Su Zhenghua’s lips twitched slightly, as if he harbored a dozen more thoughts he was desperate to voice, but in the end, he merely let out a long, heavy sigh. Very well, he murmured, turning his face away. Be on your way now. Just remember to be careful in all things. The moment I stepped out through the iron gates of the residential compound, I took out my phone and immediately sent a message to my eldest uncle. Uncle, I just came back from my father’s place. He told me not to get too close to you. A brief moment passed before his reply illuminated the screen. Did he really say that to you? Yes.

Silence stretched on the other end for a long while, heavy and pregnant with unsaid words, before a final sentence came through. Wanwan, remember the promise we made back then. Once you graduate, come straight to find me, no matter what your father tells you. I stood motionless by the roadside, staring fixedly at the glowing screen of my phone. The spring wind of March still carried a sharp chill, raising goosebumps along my bare arms. My father forbade me from growing close to my uncle, yet my uncle warned me not to listen to my father. What on earth had happened between these two brothers in the past?

When I returned to the dormitory that night, I took my household registration book and locked it securely inside my wardrobe, then lay down on my bed, tossing and turning for hours. Countless fragmented memories flashed through my mind like broken glass. On the day my mother fell gravely ill, my uncle had secretly slipped two thousand yuan into my hands. After my father remarried and abruptly cut off my living expenses, my uncle did not hesitate for a single second, stepping forward to cover every single penny of my university tuition. At the hospital, he had spoken of the sixty thousand yuan that my father had never returned, along with those haunting words: Once you graduate, you will finally understand.

All of these scattered puzzle pieces lay haphazardly before me, and try as I might, I could not yet assemble them into a complete picture. Yet I harbored a deep, instinctive premonition that the moment that picture finally revealed itself, the truth would likely shatter my heart. What caused me even greater unease was my uncle’s absolute insistence that I enter his factory to work for three years upon graduation, accompanied by strict instructions to keep it entirely hidden from my father. This did not feel like a simple act of familial charity; rather, it felt deliberate, as though my uncle was trying to sever my ties and pull me far away from my father’s sphere of influence.

A subtle shudder ran through me, and I pulled the heavy quilt up higher around my shoulders, tucking it tightly beneath my chin. Outside the window, the wind howled in fierce, rhythmic gusts. My three roommates were already fast asleep, their steady breathing rising and falling in a soft chorus in the dark. I stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, my mind churning with a turbulent sea of thoughts. One voice inside me urged me to stop thinking so much, to simply graduate in peace and go work at my uncle's factory where life would surely improve. But another voice, sharp and relentless like an iron nail, kept piercing deeper into my heart. How did my mother really die? What dark secrets were buried between my father and my eldest uncle? Why would a biological father ruthlessly deprive his own daughter of living expenses while a paternal uncle willingly shouldered the burden of her tuition and her entire future?

These questions drifted through my mind like freezing winter drafts slipping through the window cracks, slowly seeping straight into my marrow. I turned over, unlocked my phone screen, locked it again, and then unlocked it once more. Finally, I opened my contacts list and scrolled down to a phone number I had not dialed in three full years. It belonged to my mother. I knew full well that the number had been disconnected and abandoned long ago, yet my trembling thumb pressed the call button anyway. Through the receiver, a cold, mechanical female voice echoed into my ear: The number you have dialed is currently out of service.

I ended the call, turned the phone facedown beneath my pillow, and closed my eyes tightly. Warm tears slipped quietly from the corners of my eyes, dampening a corner of the pillowcase. Su Weiguo, what on earth are you hiding from me? When graduation day arrives, I swear I will find the truth and demand every single answer.

By the late days of June, I finally received my graduation certificate and my bachelor’s degree. The weather that day was breathtakingly beautiful, with brilliant sunlight filtering down while the lush leaves of the phoenix trees in the courtyard rustled softly in the breeze. Tong Wen, wearing her graduation gown, stood beside me so we could take pictures together. She threw an arm around my shoulders, laughing brightly as she spoke. Su Wan, the two of us must promise to stay in close touch no matter where we go. If you ever end up working at your eldest uncle’s factory and someone dares to bully you, just say a single word, and I will hop on the high-speed train and come all the way there to back you up.