novelraw Chapter 1195: Three Families
Chapter 1195: Three Families
The pounding bass felt like waves of heat rolling through the air, each beat thudding hard enough to make one’s heart race.
Dizzying lights, wild music, pyramid-shaped stacks of glasses, and blue flames burning atop them.
Aside from his two teammates, there were two other guys and several women, all dancing wildly around the large circular booth.
The table was littered with bottles, upright and sideways.
Dong Shaofeng held one of them, half-empty. He looked like an outsider, quietly watching the madness in front of him.
When they began kissing passionately, faces lost in drunken ecstasy, he still watched without expression.
A sultry woman slinked toward Dong Shaofeng, wrapping herself around him like a snake. She kissed his ear, her lips sliding downward, teasing him.
He looked down at her face — that seductive look suddenly seemed crawling with maggots in his mind, her skin rotting, grotesque.
Of course, it wasn’t real — just how she seemed to him. In truth, she was beautiful, the most attractive among the group.
Finally, the woman wasn’t satisfied with simple teasing. Tilting her head up, eyes full of desire, she cupped his face and leaned in for a kiss.“Get away.”
Maybe the music drowned his voice, or maybe she thought he didn’t mean it, but she continued.
“Get away.”
She finally heard him. Frowning, she gave a cold humph and backed off, muttering in annoyance — the man’s eyes were just too cold.
After she left, one of his teammates came over, puzzled. “Boss Feng, what’s wrong? She made you mad?”
“You guys have fun.” Dong Shaofeng stood up, grabbed an unopened beer, and said calmly, “I already paid the tab.”
“Boss Feng? What the hell—?”
He disappeared into the crowd of dancing youth within seconds.
Another teammate asked, “What’s up with him?”
“Who cares? Not the first time. Let’s keep going!”
Ah, youth — drinking, indulging, feeling invincible.
——
A silver Mercedes SLC sped along the riverside road. The roaring engine echoed under a bridge before the car screeched to a stop.
Dong Shaofeng stepped out, walked to the railing by the river. The cool damp wind felt refreshing on his flushed skin. Despite all the alcohol, he wasn’t stumbling — just burning up inside.
He gazed across the river at the cluster of old buildings.
He remembered — when he was a kid, his home was over there.
The lights across the river were the lights of families. The ones on this side — neon, hollow, and cold.
He couldn’t say which side was better. Maybe both sides only looked beautiful when you were gazing at the other.
He sighed softly, took out his phone, and opened a chat with Zhao Le.
—— Still awake?
—— What do you want now?
—— Go downstairs. Start frog-jumping up from the bottom floor, record it, and send it to me.
—— You’re sick!!
—— You’ve got five minutes. Timer starts now.
One minute, two, three, four and a half…
He stared at the screen, dazed.
Then the phone buzzed — short clips started coming in.
Shaky footage, dim lighting — Zhao Le was actually doing frog jumps up the stairs, breath ragged and uneven.
Each floor, one short video, one after another.
Leaning against the railing, Dong Shaofeng drank while watching, the cold wind biting at him.
—— Done!
—— Do calisthenics.
—— What??
—— Radio calisthenics, set fifteen — or go frog-jump back down.
Soon, more clips came in. He didn’t even open them this time — just tilted his head back, staring at the pitch-black sky.
Disgusting.
Zhao Le was disgusting.
And so was he.
He thought that, then hurled the bottle into the river. Before getting back in the car, he sent one last message:
—— Good night.
——
“You’re back, Shaofeng!” his mother greeted warmly, rushing over. “You reek of alcohol again — where have you been fooling around?”
He glanced at her, then at the man reading the newspaper in the living room — his father.
“So late. What’s going on?” he said casually.
“What kind of attitude is that?” His father slammed the newspaper down, glaring at him. “All you do is party and waste money. Do you think I earn it for you to blow on drinks?”
“Alright, alright, he’s still young,” his mother soothed, “don’t get mad.”
“Every time! You always defend him. You’ll spoil him rotten!” His father snorted. “Starting today — no allowance for three months!”
Dong Shaofeng stared at them blankly.
—— Disgusting.
—— They are.
—— I am too.
His mother sat beside her husband, patting his shoulder. “Calm down, he’s still just a kid.”
—— You can stop now.
“You always take his side! This is your fault!”
—— Aren’t you tired?
“Yes, yes, I’m the bad one, alright?” she sighed.
—— Isn’t it exhausting?
His father finally sighed too, glaring at his son. “Go take a shower! You smell like a bar!”
—— I know.
He nodded slightly and started up the stairs.
“Oh, by the way,” his mother called after him, smiling, “the day after tomorrow is your birthday. Your dad and I planned to fly to Paris tomorrow to celebrate properly! He even took two days off work.”
—— That’s enough.
—— You can stop now.
—— It’s fine already.
Dong Shaofeng stopped, turned back. “Enough! Stop pretending!”
“What did you say?” His father’s face darkened.
Dong Shaofeng sneered. “If you want to lecture me, fine — but clean up your own mistresses first. And you, Mom — maybe stop going on dates with your boyfriends before playing the ‘loving mother’ act. Aren’t you both disgusted with each other by now?”
He didn’t go upstairs — he walked straight out the door.
“Stop! Where are you going?!” his father shouted.
“Out to waste money,” he said, waving a hand without looking back.
The door slammed shut. His father hurled a teacup to the floor, glaring coldly at his wife.
“In that case, let’s skip Paris,” she said lightly. “I’ll fly to Sabah for a few days.”
“Do what you want,” he said icily. “But behave yourself. The company’s going public soon — I don’t want any scandals.”
“Worry about yourself,” she sneered, heading upstairs.
——
When Zhao Le opened the door, he tried to be quiet — but the lights in the living room suddenly flicked on.
He froze. Zhang Xiaoqin sat there in her wheelchair, hand still on the switch.
“Little Le, it’s late. Where did you go? Why are you all sweaty?”
“Nothing.” He shut the door quickly, composing himself before turning back with a smile. “Couldn’t sleep, so I went for a run.”
He grabbed a blanket from the sofa and draped it over her shoulders. “Sis, weren’t you asleep?”
Zhang Xiaoqin shook her head and suddenly held his hand. “Little Le, I just had a dream. I woke up.”
“A dream?” he asked softly, squatting down to hold her hands — they were cold, so he rubbed them gently. “What kind of dream?”
“I don’t know, I don’t even know where it was,” Zhang Xiaoqin shook her head, still looking frightened. “It was just you and me. You were walking ahead of me, with your back turned, getting farther and farther away. I called out to you, but you couldn’t hear me — you just kept walking, kept walking… I couldn’t move, couldn’t catch up… and then you disappeared. After that, I woke up.”
“I’m right here, aren’t I?” Zhao Le took his sister’s hand and placed it on his face. “See? I’m fine. How could I disappear? You think I can use magic or something? Don’t worry, it was just a dream. Nightmares aren’t real.”
“You’re right.” Zhang Xiaoqin smiled and pinched his cheek.
“Are you hungry, sis? I can make you something.”
“You trying to make me fat? No way!” she scolded playfully. “All I do is sit or lie down every day. Look at my belly!”
“You’ve got a great figure, sis,” Zhao Le laughed. “You go for treatment all the time anyway, whatever fat you have must’ve burned away by now. Burn my calories~”
“Pfft…”
“I made some scallion oil and cracklings earlier. How about scallion oil noodles?” he asked, winking.
Zhang Xiaoqin groaned dramatically and tugged hard at his cheeks. “You little brat, I’m gonna kill you!”
“If you don’t eat, I won’t make it,” Zhao Le said, grinning mischievously.
“You’re asking for it!”
Pretending to be angry, Zhang Xiaoqin raised her hand as if to hit him. Zhao Le laughed, dodged away, and hurried into the kitchen. “Ten minutes, sis. Just wait.”
“You brat… and don’t forget extra scallion oil!” she called after him, rolling her eyes but smiling. Watching him bustle about, she laughed softly. “If I get fat and no one wants me, I guess you’ll just have to cook for me for the rest of your life!”
Zhao Le chuckled, took out the noodles, and dropped them into the boiling pot.
As the steam rose, they chatted quietly — about catching crickets as kids, about stealing watermelons from the neighbor’s field, about watching Ultraman and Sailor Moon, about how Zhang Xiaoqin always hogged the TV remote, and how Zhao Le once stole her chicken drumstick during New Year and made her cry.
They talked about the past, about the future — all happy things.
——
The living room lights were still on — just the wall lamp and a table lamp.
When Chen Mingming opened the door, he noticed right away, so he moved quietly.
On the sofa sat a woman in a tailored suit, surrounded by stacks of documents. She still held one in her hand, though she had fallen asleep.
Chen Mingming didn’t speak. He went to the kitchen, made some ginseng tea, and placed it beside her before tidying up the papers.
“Your father came by,” the woman said suddenly, eyes still closed, massaging her temples with fatigue in her voice.
“I know.” Chen Mingming emptied the ashtray.
“If he tries to contact you these next few days, just ignore him,” she added.
“Mhm.” He nodded, cleaned up, and glanced around the neat living room before taking a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Have you packed everything? You’re leaving next week. You probably won’t be back this year, so make sure you’ve packed properly,” she said.
“I’ll handle it,” Chen Mingming replied casually and started toward his room.
“Mingming,” his mother called, finally opening her eyes. “Uncle Cai is a good man. He has his own business in Canada. This trip, your mom isn’t just working with him — we’re planning to rebuild a family together. He’s happy to accept you too. When we move there, try to get along with him, okay?”
Chen Mingming turned back to her and said softly, “It’s late. Get some rest.”
She smiled gently. “You’ve grown up. You know what’s best for yourself. I’ve always believed in you.”
“Don’t forget to drink the ginseng tea,” he said before going into his room.
Once the door closed, silence fell.
He sat down at his desk and glanced at his phone — a few unread messages from Zhou Yusheng.
He skimmed them, then set the phone back on its charger.
Too quiet. He needed some sound. Any sound.
He put on his headphones and lay his head down on the desk.
Include-Me-Out
—— Where have I seen this before?
—— When will I feel it again?
—— Someone opened a door.
—— I’m afraid to go inside.
—— Imagination erased everything.
—— If imagination continues…
—— I saw it in a book.
—— In an open book.
—— I saw it in a joke.
…
(End of Chapter)
Translator is here shamelessly posting his Ko-fi link. Any donation amount would be appreciated. Thank you!