Chapter 329 Parents' Pride, The Wounded Superhero (Seeking Votes at the Beginning of the Month)
This night, the sea was filled with turmoil—from the art club to the Blood Cult, from official wanted posters to heated discussions in various "taverns"—the mysterious world hidden behind the city was in turmoil.
But for most people in this city, their lives remained unchanged. They
were busy with daily chores, family matters, and making a living, regardless of the chaos caused by the mysterious world. On the surface, the city's monotonous daily life continued as usual.
This included those extraordinary individuals who were powerful and influential in the mysterious world, whose names and appearances were all shrouded in mystery.
Stripped of their masks and back to reality, once they become ordinary people again, they are no different from anyone else. They all have two eyes and a mouth, need to eat and sleep, worry about their children, and argue with their wives. Thinking about it this way, it seems they are removing their masks and returning to life. But who knows if, for them, returning to that ordinary, uninteresting world is actually a return to their true selves, wearing the mask again?
Yu Changhe is sixty years old this year. He still speaks and acts decisively. His shirts are faded from washing but meticulously clean. Although he has a noticeable hunchback, his tall stature makes him seem to always be proudly and deliberately straightening his back.
He seems full of energy every day, a model worker in the factory year after year, a respected Master Yu among his colleagues. In his decades as a worker, he has mentored many apprentices—many of whom are now middle-level factory leaders.
However, today, he applied for early retirement, officially transforming from a glorious worker into an old man with nothing to do.
Although he had only recently retired, Yu Changhe felt like a machine that had been unplugged, as if he had suddenly lost his direction in life, full of energy but unable to use it. He felt
empty.
In fact, he had only finished the formalities that afternoon; the factory, which was about to close down, didn't even offer a farewell. Old Yu, who was usually a team leader and a minor leader and considered himself quite successful, felt a tightness in his chest all day.
Now, as night fell and the cold wind blew through the streets, Old Yu felt as if he had suddenly deflated.
His mind was blank, hazy and unable to remember anything, only occasionally recalling fragments of past memories.
In his early years, the factory he worked for belonged to the Tinghai Municipal Government, offering a stable income and a permanent position—something everyone envied.
But later, around the turn of the millennium, conglomerates began to rise, factories went bankrupt one after another, shopping malls were acquired by conglomerates and renamed, the tide of the times rolled forward, the world quietly changed, and even the affiliated middle and primary schools near his home changed to much more fashionable new names.
Old Yu was both lucky and unlucky. The factory didn't go bankrupt, but its profits declined day by day. He simply drifted along, occasionally taking on some side jobs with his decent skills. Although his family of three lived frugally, they managed to get by. Before
he knew it, Old Yu had retired. When he came to his senses, Old Yu realized that he had been pushing his clattering bicycle, which had accompanied him to and from work for thirty years, and had unknowingly arrived at his usual small shop. If Bai Zhou were here, he would feel very familiar with the surroundings. This was the East District. As an old district, it was full of old residential areas awaiting renovation. Although there were newly built high-rise buildings not far away, Old Yu was surrounded by the old factory family quarters. It was dilapidated, but peaceful. Elderly people would pass by from time to time. At the entrance of the residential area was this shabby little shop. The lights were on inside, and a curtain hung at the door. It looked like it had been there for decades. This place was quite similar to a corner of Wancheng. Even if it was a little more "advanced" than Wancheng, it wasn't that much more advanced. Having come this far, as usual, Lao Yu locked the car, took out a half-smoked cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and then slowly walked towards the entrance of the small shop, like a factory leader inspecting work. He lifted the shop's cotton curtain and peeked inside. A whiff of tobacco mixed with the aroma of cheap sausages wafted out. A row of cigarettes sat on the counter, and the shelves were filled with various instant noodles, spicy strips, pickled vegetables, and sausages. A cheap rice cooker, emitting white steam, was bubbling away on the counter, cooking the shop owner's dinner. It was evening, the streetlights were on, and the night was deepening. The dimly lit shop was very quiet, except for the occasional sound of a small hammer tapping on a wooden bench nail from a corner. "Old Ma, busy?" Lao Yu took a drag of his cigarette and glanced over. "Hey, Lao Yu!" The shop owner, known as Lao Ma, was squatting in the corner repairing a stool. He looked up and saw him, grinning, his face crinkling with wrinkles. "What are you busy with? Look how deserted it is—" the shop owner flattered. "If I had your good job, a city-affiliated worker with a guaranteed income regardless of drought or flood, I wouldn't be sitting here on this cold bench." Hearing this, Lao Yu's expression stiffened almost imperceptibly. He then raised his hand, which was partially covering his glasses, and waved it casually, saying lightly, "Returned. " "Returned?" "Yeah." Lao Yu nodded, expressionlessly pulling a red flower from his pocket, then quickly stuffing it back in.
"Retirement with honor."
"Oh ho, congratulations!" As he spoke, Old Ma had already come behind the counter, one arm resting on it, stepping aside to let the shelves behind him pass. "What, the same as always?"
"Yeah." Old Yu replied skillfully, as if he had said similar things hundreds or thousands of times before. "A case of discounted milk nearing its expiration date, two ounces of pork, half a pound of sausage, and today's Tinghai Evening News."
As he spoke, Old Yu took a puff of his cigarette, slowly pulled a few crumpled banknotes from his pocket, and pushed them onto the scratched glass counter.
Old Ma skillfully pulled out a large red plastic bag, neatly filled it with the items on the counter, and said with a smile, "Alright! Congratulations on your glorious retirement, Master Yu. Here's a bottle of Erguotou for you, it's on me."
"No, no, no, don't give me that." Yu Changhe immediately waved his hand, raising his voice a notch, "It's what you deserve, I, Old Yu, have never eaten for free in my life."
Although he said that, his eyes still lit up as he watched Old Ma stuff a small two-ounce bottle of Erguotou directly into the plastic bag, and he unconsciously swallowed.
"I know you're not short of money—but we've been regular customers for so many years, why are you being so polite with me?"
Old Ma, the shopkeeper, didn't allow for a refusal, then sighed, "Well done, Old Yu, you're finally retired and have some peace and quiet. You've finally made it through the tough times."
"—Enjoying life!"
he said, "Come visit often when you have time, sit here and have a chat."
As he spoke, Old Ma took out a cigarette, lit it, glanced at the cigarette butt in Old Yu's hand, and then gestured to the cigarette pack in his hand, indicating that Old Yu should have one too.
Old Yu waved his hands repeatedly, the cigarette butt between his fingers drawing a blurry smoke ring in the air. "No need, what kind of cigarettes don't we have at home? I can't finish them all."
He took a puff, then a couple more, and soon the small shop was filled with smoke. The shop owner chatted idly, asking, "These city employees, their pensions must be higher than those of regular employees, right?"
Behind the smoke, half a cigarette had been smoked down to a butt. Old Yu squinted. "That's because—the city government supports them. The amount isn't important; the key is that medical care is basically free, and there's even a survivor's pension if they pass away."
"Comparisons are odious. We ordinary folks really can't compare to you!" Old Ma, the shopkeeper, shook his head. "What do you plan to do after retirement?"
Old Yu casually replied, "Go to the park to practice swordsmanship, go fishing by the lake, have a bowl of tripe in the morning, have hot pot in the evening, and maybe go on a trip sometime—I'll be very busy!"
"Okay, bro, you're pretty cool." Old Ma looked on with envy, giving Old Yu a thumbs up. "But if you ask me, the most important thing is having a successful daughter!"
Daughter?
The mention of this seemed to flip a switch for Yu Changhe. He took a deep drag on his cigarette, squinted, and exhaled the smoke through his nostrils. His tone immediately relaxed, with a hint of deliberate nonchalance: "Successful? What's that? Just the same old thing? A bookworm. I don't understand anything she says."
"A graduate student from Tinghai University, that's impressive!" Old Ma packed everything up, placed it on the counter, and pushed it towards Yu Changhe, who was smoking. "I've known this girl would amount to something since she was little. You, Old Yu, can just wait to enjoy the good life!"
Then, Old Ma asked, "I remember she studied—"
"Psychology." Yu Changhe said he didn't understand, but answered without hesitation: "You know psychology, right? That thing, what's it called again—Freud!"
"Oh, right!" Old Ma, the shopkeeper, nodded repeatedly. "It's incredible! Everyone's under so much pressure these days, many have some kind of mental health issue—this profession is good, no worries about finding a job. If you ask me, your Yu Sheng has always been bright, just like you, Old Yu!"
These words made Yu Changhe feel completely at ease. He took the plastic bag and a box of near-expiry milk from Old Ma, still saying, "Like me? What? I'm just an ordinary worker, she just proved herself." "
You can't say that," Old Ma waved his hand. "Most people can't afford university tuition, and this is Tinghai University, isn't it all thanks to your brother?"
"Tuition fees?"
Upon hearing this, Yu Changhe's voice suddenly lowered as he leaned closer to Lao Ma: "Let me tell you, she covered most of her university tuition fees with her own scholarships. I basically didn't pay much. This child—she's never given me any trouble since she was little, she's really a worry-free person!"
Lao Ma seemed even more envious at these words. Seeing Lao Yu about to turn and leave, he reached out and grabbed Lao Yu's arm: "I remember, Xiao Yu should have graduated by now, right? I haven't heard that she has a boyfriend?"
"Hmm—hmm?" Lao Yu's eyes widened, and he immediately became wary.
Sure enough, Old Ma behind the counter lowered his voice and chuckled, "Look, I have a nephew, also a college student, quite handsome—"
Before he could finish, Yu Changhe waved his hands repeatedly, "We'll see, we'll see—young people these days hate blind dates, I can't make decisions for her, I'll ask her when I get back." "Alright
, then you must ask Xiao Yu, my nephew is really—"
Halfway through his boast, Yu Changhe in front of the counter had already put a cigarette butt in his mouth, grabbed a plastic bag and some milk, and rushed out the door.
"Hey! Old Yu!"
Old Ma waved from behind the counter, looking expectant, "I'm waiting for your good news!"
Yes, Old Yu had a daughter.
Everyone in the neighborhood knew that Old Yu had a wonderful, flawless daughter.
She was extremely pretty, and had grown into a beautiful and elegant young woman, completely unlike the children of ordinary families.
Her obedient and well-behaved personality made her a nightmare for many children in this residential compound. They had heard of this "big devil" since childhood—in the parents' mouths, she wasn't just "someone else's child," but the embodiment of "benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, trustworthiness, gentleness, kindness, respect, frugality, humility, loyalty, filial piety
, courage, respect, and integrity." Whose child's hobby is "especially fond of studying"?
Anyway, in Old Yu's descriptions of others, and in every parent's description of their child, the mysterious
"Little Yu" was a study enthusiast who "wouldn't play games even if asked, and preferred reading and studying."
Others' youth had an unforgettable white moonlight, but the children of the old factory compound always lived in the shadow of "Little Yu," their childhood and youth memories filled with a damn god descended to earth!
Of course, correspondingly, this Little Yu was always number one in her studies, excelling in both character and academics, even consistently winning first place in school sports meets, developing comprehensively in morality, intelligence, physical fitness, aesthetics, and labor.
After university, this person was admitted to Tinghai University, the legendary place most coveted and longed for by the citizens of Tinghai, and successfully secured a place in the postgraduate program.
In the nearby residential areas, the legend of "Little Yu" spread everywhere. When Little Yu was admitted to Tinghai University, they would tell everyone they met that they had such a neighbor, having watched this child grow up, their faces beaming with pride.
People said that Old Yu, who was obsessed with saving face and lived in poverty, had raised a golden phoenix from his humble beginnings, and that he would likely bring him countless honors in the future.
Old Yu thought so too.
His proudest achievement in life was having such a daughter.
Although, after his daughter graduated from university, for some reason, many things seemed different from what he had imagined—
"What's the use of being good at studying? She's been staying at home since graduation, still sponging off her parents. I don't know what's wrong with her."
"What do you know? That's how college students are these days. The economy is bad, but college graduates can't shake off their traditional Chinese clothes. They look down on this and that—" "
A fallen genius, sigh—"
Old Yu occasionally overheard similar gossip.
Whenever this happened, Old Yu would argue back, his
face flushed. Although he always said that his daughter could easily find a high-paying job, that she was just settling down—besides, what did it matter if he supported his daughter for the rest of her life? He was willing!
But, with his retirement today and his salary plummeting—
Old Yu felt that perhaps it was time to find an opportunity to have a serious talk with his daughter about this.
Pushing his bicycle, occasionally greeting the neighbors passing by, the embers of the cigarette at the corner of Old Yu's mouth flickered.
The sounds of cooking oil sizzling and crackling filled the air, while distant skyscrapers twinkled with neon lights. A gentle evening breeze blew through the old neighborhood, where elderly people watched children laughing and chasing each other, occasionally punctuated by shouts of "Slow down, don't fall!"
In the distance, a faint light flashed across the city skyline, like a shooting star, or something else entirely.
With a click, the car stopped, the lock fastened, and the decades-old car was secured. Old Yu unloaded the nearly expired milk carton from the back seat, taking out the plastic bag inside.
Glancing at the cigarette butt, now a scalding hot ash between his fingers, Old Yu took one last, deep drag, as if trying to smoke out every last bit of tobacco, before tossing the butt into a roadside trash can and turning to go upstairs.
In the six-story old-style apartment building, Old Yu and his family of three lived on the best floor—the third floor—avoiding the strenuous climb and the worries of backflow from the drains that plagued those on the first and second floors.
So when the neighbors on the fifth and sixth floors suggested pooling money to install an elevator, Lao Yu stood with his downstairs neighbors, expressing his firm opposition.
With two clicks, the key turned the lock, and Lao Yu, carrying milk and a plastic bag, pushed open the door and entered the house. A pungent smell of stir-fried eggs with chili peppers wafted out, mixed with the aroma of hot oil, scallions, and ginger, making Lao Yu, who had just smoked, cough twice.
"Lao Yu's back?"
His wife, Liu Guilan, poked her head out from the kitchen, her apron still stained with oil, her hair glistening with sweat, and a greasy spatula in her hand. "You bought the milk? Wash your hands, wash your hands quickly! The last dish is almost done!"
Lao Yu slowly changed into slippers, placed the nearly expired milk in the corner, and, carrying the plastic bag, slowly stood before the dining table.
The coffee table in the living room was already laden with a sumptuous spread of home-cooked dishes: braised pork belly, stewed mutton, fried ribbonfish, steamed fish drizzled with hot oil, stir-fried bok choy topped with minced garlic, a dish of peanuts, and a large bowl of steaming meatball soup in the center.
Around the edge of the coffee table were three sets of bowls and chopsticks, next to which was his favorite Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor), the glasses already set out, making the bottle of Erguotou in his plastic bag seem superfluous.
"Why all this?" Old Yu muttered, turning to take the plastic bag to the kitchen.
His wife, stirring the spatula, didn't turn around: "Aren't you retiring today? It's a once-in-a-lifetime event, have something nice to commemorate it. After that, you'll be free."
"Retirement is just retirement, not New Year's—pure waste," Old Yu continued to mutter, his mouth never stopping.
"Shut up." After the chili and egg stir-fry was finished, his wife Liu Guilan took out a plate of smashed cucumber from the cutting board, placed it on the coffee table, and then casually took off her apron and draped it over the back of a chair.
"You've been craving stewed mutton for half a month—today you can eat your fill!"
She poured wine for Old Yu and a glass for herself. "I'll toast you later, Old Yu. Thank you for your hard work, congratulations on your glorious retirement!"
As she spoke, Old Yu washed his hands and walked to the coffee table. Looking at the table laden with good food and wine, he chuckled twice, rubbing his hands together. "Where's Xiao Yu?"
"Why isn't she coming out to eat?"
"She's inside reading." Liu Guilan gestured towards her daughter's room. "She said she's reading some paper, Freud, Bandura or something, I don't understand it—I called her earlier, and she said she'd come out to eat after she finished that part."
Hearing this, Old Yu grinned. "This child, just like me, gets completely absorbed in her books—"
Though he praised her, he unconsciously lowered his voice, afraid of disturbing his daughter's studies.
For many years, it had always been like this.
Looking around, the door to the daughter's bedroom was tightly shut, a sliver of light escaping from under the crack, and it was eerily quiet.
Inside, the window was wide open, letting in a gentle evening breeze carrying the smoky aroma of cooking oil from downstairs.
Here, in the old factory compound, the talk of the town, the pride of her parents, the "model child" who had recently become a "fallen genius" and a "homebody," little Yu had just sneaked back through the window, acting furtively and mysteriously.
This little Yu, w