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Ch57 - Sha, Sha, Sha
The two of them got into bed again without disturbing Li Yinhang and wrapped themselves in the blanket. Nan Zhou’s body slowly warmed up with Jiang Fang’s help but he wasn’t in a very good mood. He was thinking about Xie Xiangyu’s words.
Previously, he hadn’t taken this issue very seriously but Xie Xiangyu made him think. If… Brother Fang and Yinhang knew his actual identity, would they care?
Nan Zhou turned over. He didn’t like to hide it. Previously, he just hadn’t felt it was necessary to say it. Now he admitted that he cared a bit. It was about his own matter but Nan Zhou didn’t know how to open his mouth or how to say it.
In the darkness, Jiang Fang watched Nan Zhou’s back. Nan Zhou was obviously unhappy. Jiang Fang could probably guess the reason.
After a long and gentle gaze, Jiang Fang took a few deep and silent breaths. He finished preparing his mind and raised his hand. He released the chain clasp of his choker. The choker slid along his neck and shoulder onto the pillow, making a fine noise that attracted Nan Zhou’s attention.
Nan Zhou leaned over slightly. “You haven’t slept yet?”
Jiang Fang gave a low laugh.
Nan Zhou murmured, “Ah, I am the same.”
Jiang Fang moved closer, his warm breath touching the side of Nan Zhou’s neck.
He suggested with a smile, “If you can’t sleep then I will tell you a bedtime story.”
Nan Zhou turned over. “Hmm, you…”
He suddenly found that Jiang Fang’s choker wasn’t in place. The faint moonlight outside the window sprinkled across Jiang Fang’s body, highlighting the graceful lines and white luster of his neck. It was perfect. Yet on top of that perfection was a dark haze.
Jiang Fang didn’t seem to understand the question in Nan Zhou’s eyes and started his story. “Do you know why I’m called Jiang Fang?”
Nan Zhou curiously wanted to touch but was intercepted halfway by Jiang Fang.
“Jiang is my mother’s last name. My father’s name was Kruz Montoloka.”
As he spoke, Jiang Fang pulled his wrist and guided his hand to the dark haze on his neck.
Jiang Fang’s half-closed eyes trembled slightly while the other hand on his heart was hot. He resisted the inner shame and strong impulse to cover up his imperfection as he completely showed the side of his neck. Nan Zhou curiously rubbed against the tattoo on his neck with his fingers.
Jiang Fang tried to stabilize his mood as he continued talking. “His initials are like this.”
—K&M.
Nan Zhou felt the neck tattoo with his fingers and the faint, red scar under the tattoo. The skin under his fingers was warm and soft. Only the skin there was tight and dull due to the scar.
Jiang Fang spoke softly. “He has been dead for years.”
Nan Zhou pressed against the tattoo, gently rubbing it in an attempt to ease the strange tension. “You engraved his name here. Do you love him very much?”
“Yes, I love him very much. However, my small love wasn’t comparable to my mother’s love.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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Aljcu Mjcu’r mtlivtbbv kjr nfgs tjqqs. Lf tjv ibcu obgubaafc tlr ojatfg’r bmmeqjalbc yfmjerf lc tlr ilwlafv wfwbgs, tlr ojatfg kjr bwclqbafca.
Ktflg ojwlis ilnfv cfza ab j rwjii mtegmt lc atf Blfn gfulbc. Ktfs vlvc’a tjnf jcs qjgalmeijg gfilulber yfilfor. Llr bcis ojlat kjr tlr ojwlis.
His father took him to a world stamps exhibition and taught him to ask in simple German about the history of an old stamp he was interested in. His father picked up Jiang Fang from primary school after getting off work. The father and son would share a Kiev meat pie on the street, promising not to tell his mother. Then they would hold hands and return home. His father liked ice hockey. When his mother refused to buy tickets, he would hug his mother and act like a baby.
In Jiang Fang’s impression, his father was an abundant, vivid and energetic Ukrainian youth. He was gentle, cheerful and always liked to laugh.
In contrast, Jiang Fang’s childhood impression of his mother was very simple. All he remembered was that she was beautiful. It was a type of beauty that everyone praised. In addition, she loved his father very, very much. As a child, Jiang Fang thought it was a great thing.
One morning on Valentine’s Day, his mother was angry because she hadn’t heard her father saying ‘Happy Valentine’s Day.’ She deliberately made a lot of noise when washing the dishes.
Mr Kruz, who wanted to leave the confession until night, offered a date but was turned down by his sulking mother. As Mr Kruz walked out of the kitchen, his son had just finished eating cereal.
The little adult looked up and asked in Ukrainian, “Is our angel angry?”
Mr Kruz replied, “It seems so.”
His young son said, “100 hryvnia. I will help you chase the angel back.”
“Oh, what did I hear? It is a good deal.”
Little Lodoka, the eight year old Jiang Fang, patted him on the waist. Then Jiang Fang went to his room, quickly changed into a suit, grabbed a rose and headed into the kitchen.
“Young beauty,” he called out loudly. “Please buy the flower in my hand.”
Mrs Jiang came over and couldn’t help smiling when she saw her son dressed up. “Little Sir, please tell me the reason why you brought this flower to me?”
Jiang Fang answered seriously, “I can get the money and give it to my father so he can take you out on a date.”
His mother smiled and patted his head. Then she raised her eyes and looked at Mr Kruz standing behind him, smiling with a touch of redness on her cheeks. Jiang Fang saw the best love in the world in her eyes. Therefore, he imagined from a very young age that if he had a lover in the future, he would treat that person kindly and make them happy every day.
This type of pronoun for his lover was taught to him by his father. His father taught him that love, regardless of sex, was a gift from God. As a gift, he must boldly display it and praise them so as to live up to their expectations.
Jiang Fang’s yearning for this gift ended the year he was 12 years old. It was supposed to be a happy parent-child mountaineering trip in summer. A sudden storm ruined it. Mr Kruz was aware of the changes in the sky. He noticed the abnormalities in advance as he was about to reach the top of the mountain. The experienced former president of the mountaineering club hurriedly took his son down along the most convenient hiking trail he was familiar with.
He worried that the rain would be heavy and they wouldn’t be able to return home tonight. Then his wife would be worried since she never spent the night alone after marriage. However, Mr Kruz made a serious mistake with his forecast of the weather. Halfway through, they happened to encounter the rain.
He encouraged little Jiang Fang, who was depressed due to the failure to reach the top. He used most of the rain gear to shield Jiang Fang from the wind and rain and walked down the wet mountain road.
Perhaps it was because he cared too much about his son but Mr Kruz, who was walking down on the side of the mountain, stepped onto bad, wet mud and slipped. He hurriedly stepped on the land by the cliff. It was just that the erosion of the heavy rain and perennial wind had made this land abnormally soft a long time ago. His body fell uncontrollably toward the bottom of the cliff!
Little Jiang Fang’s heart suddenly became empty and he instinctively reached out to grab his father’s arm. He just overestimated his strength. The father and son fell together into the valley.
Jiang Fang’s body was small and the vines on the edge of the cliff saved his life.  However, the vines couldn’t save his father’s plummeting body. Jiang Fang was suspended around 10 meters from the top of the cliff, his body hanging from the cliff.
His cheeks were covered with bleeding scratches and his arms and legs were bruised to varying degrees. The pain was so great he couldn’t move at all. He didn’t dare to move. The slightest movement caused the vines rooted in the rocks to shift, pouring a large amount of soil over his head.
All he could do was wait.
The rescue team arrived three days after his mother reported their disappearance. Jiang Fang survived the hellish 72 hours by eating plant roots, drinking muddy rainwater and singing to himself.
His father’s torn apart body was only found at the bottom of the cliff one week later. His mother almost fainted from crying. She refused to go through any formalities, refusing to admit that the lifeless body in front of her was her husband. In the end, she screamed and was dragged to get an injection.
Jiang Fang’s tears had almost dried up on the edge of the cliff. His current self was just frozen as he signed the confirmation of the body with bandaged hands that trembled.
Yet in the middle of the night when he was awakened by intense anxiety and came to the bathroom, he saw his mother hanging in the air and still cried. He rushed to hug his mother’s feet, exhausting all his strength to lift her up. It was because he remembered that his father died because he couldn’t hold onto his father. His mother had tied a tight knot for the noose.
Fortunately, Jiang Fang’s rescue was successful this time. His mother lay on the ground, breathing very slightly like she was trying to suffocate herself to death. Jiang Fang didn’t dare to cry too loudly. He just knelt in front of his mother, covering her throat that was scratched by the rope and letting tears fall to the floor.
“Don’t leave me.” He sobbed softly. “Mom, don’t leave me.”
His mother’s eyes were empty and she couldn’t see him. She only muttered his father’s name. Mrs Jiang lost her loved one and most of her soul was taken away. She was soon fired from the supermarket where she worked due to long-term and unreasonable absenteeism. The only source of money in the family was lost.
His father was a firm believer of a natural and unrestrained life. He didn’t buy any insurance and only had one savings account. It was for Jiang Fang’s university funds. However, the medical expenses and fees for hiring the search and rescue teams had squandered those funds.
It was only after some calculations that Jiang Fang discovered his tuition money was gone. Moreover, if there was no income then they wouldn’t be able to survive this winter in Ukraine. He could no longer go to school.
Thus, the 12 year old Jiang Fang decided to drop out of school. He forged a certificate of identity and started his part-time job career. Jiang Fang thought that he wanted to accompany his mother through this most difficult period of time. Once his mother cheered up, he would definitely have a chance to go back to school.
Jiang Fang didn’t expect that his mother’s love wasn’t warm or eternal. It was overflowing, excessive, endlessly burning. She soon became obsessed with everything that could numb herself. Cigarettes, alcohol and illegal drugs.
Jiang Fang noticed his mother’s depravity when he found that none of the money he brought home had been deposited in the savings account. At first, he earnestly persuaded his mother. At first, his mother was persuaded.
She wept bitterly, apologizing to Jiang Fang while telling him that her love for his father was torturing her into madness. She said she still didn’t believe his father had left. Jiang Fang accompanied her as she shed tears.
As a result, the cycle didn’t end. His mother repeated her addicted life. The terrible cycle of a bad life—painful confession—confiding her endless love—continued. In this prolonged cycle, Jiang Fang slowly stopped shedding tears.
He learned to hide money. His mother also learned to steal. He learned to hide money outside and not take it home. His mother learned to borrow money, letting the debt collectors come to the door and forcing Jiang Fang to take out his wallet.
They spent their days like this, torturing each other but unable to let go.
Jiang Fang was reluctant to let go of the warmth of his childhood. His father left and his mother became like this. How could he leave it alone?
One day—
Due to his face and appearance, Jiang Fang got a huge tip and happily took it home. Yet when he opened the door, he kicked a half-empty wine bottle. Dishes and vomit piled up in the sink like a mountain. His mother leaned against the sofa, thoughts chaotic.
Jiang Fang endured it, rolling up his sleeves and walking to the sink. Then he smelled the strong alcohol in the room and finally couldn’t bear it. He turned the tap on to the maximum and told her mother, “Mom, forget Dad. I don’t want you to be hurt by alcohol… in this world, you don’t only have Dad. You also have me. Please.”
There was no response from behind him. Jiang Fang lowered his head and continued to wash the dishes, wanting to give his mother time to think.
Once he cleaned the dishes and wiped the water droplets from his hands, he looked back and was shocked to find—
His mother was standing coldly behind him, carrying the fruit knife that still had the apple juice on it from that night. His mother was a beauty. She had disheveled hair but she was still a beauty. However, his mother on that day looked like a ghost. Her piercing screams and the cold sharp edge on his neck succeeded in creating countless nightmares for Jiang Fang in the years to come.
“You clearly killed him. Why do you want me to forget about him?!”
“Have you forgotten about him?!”
“Remember it for me! Remember!”
She pressed her son’s head against the chopping board, grabbing his hair as she used the fruit knife to engrave his father’s initials into the side of his neck. As long as she slightly deviated or pressed a bit harder, Jiang Fang probably wouldn’t have lived to see her like this anymore.
Jiang Fang lay quietly against the chopping board without any resistance. It was just like when he was waiting for rescue on the cliff, waiting for his fate to come. Unfortunately, it didn’t arrive. His mother threw away the fruit knife stained with fresh blood. She clutched her hair tightly and paced back and forth in the room.
Jiang Fang slowly got up. He sat on the cold, hard floor as he grabbed the paper towel and wiped off the blood staining his collarbone bit by bit. He thought, ‘Sure enough, it is useless.’
10 minutes later, his mother came over with a cigarette in her mouth and led him out the door. In the back corner of a nearby neighborhood, she found a Chinese tattoo shop without a license. She pushed the still bleeding Jiang Fang inside.
The gloomy and pretty face of the customer as well as the embarrassing state of the child she pushed in front of her shocked the tattoo artist who was smoking. He asked, “Guest, do you have any needs?”
His mother’s hand shook badly as she held the cigarettes. White smoke emerged from her red lips and caged her eyes in a hazy barrier of fog. It seemed she wanted to completely block her vision so she couldn’t see the blood dripping from Jiang Fang’s neck. “He misses his father too much. Turn this name into a tattoo for him.”
Since there was no license, there weren’t many taboos or rules here. They would do anything for money. The tattoo artist saw that Jiang Fang didn’t express any objections and didn’t ask much.
“There are a lot of nerves on this side of the neck,” he hinted. “It will hurt.”
Seeing that neither the customer nor the child responded, he started to silently prepare his tools. Jiang Fang lay on the sterilized bed and didn’t respond as the needle pierced his neck. It was as if it was blunt.
The tattoo artist praised him. “Brave child.”
Jiang Fang’s long eyelashes blinked. His entire person looked wooden like he was a beautiful puppet. “Thank you.”
That day happened to be Jiang Fang’s 14th birthday.
A few days later, he was wearing a bandage around his neck and serving plates at a restaurant when he was noticed by the second owner of an underground casino. Two weeks of special training passed and Jiang Fang stroked the corner of his eye that had a tear in the shape of a pink heart drawn on it, looking at himself in the mirror. The bunny girl was very satisfied with her work. “How about it? Does it look good?”
Jiang Fang smiled and turned his head, the smile in his eyes sincere to the point of being hypocritical. “It looks good. Thank you, Sister.”
He gave up on redeeming his mother. At the very least, he would give her the best life. He started to find a way to survive in the cracks.