Xiao Fengtai could no longer remember what else they had said after that. When he finally hung up, he felt a sense of relief so profound he realized he had been unconsciously holding his breath.
From beginning to end, Jiang Tong had not uttered a single word of complaint. Xiao Fengtai would have preferred for him to break down, to fall into a slump, or even to take his frustrations out on him—anything would have been better than that smiling face congratulating him on his offer. It was too stifling; the invisible burden weighing on Jiang Tong seemed to seep through the screen. The dim hospital corridors, the passersby in the background forever wearing expressions of hurried misery, the camera occasionally catching the pale, hazy sunlight of a northern winter through a window... Xiao Fengtai tried to imagine himself in that setting, but the mere thought sent a chill racing up his spine, making him shiver despite the brilliant Singaporean sunshine.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. Not long ago, every second spent with Jiang Tong had felt light and joyful. A single glance would make his limbs flush with heat even in a heavily air-conditioned room, his heart pounding, a blush spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Whenever they were apart, he wanted to photograph everything to show him; he wanted to share every ounce of happiness or sadness the moment it happened, eagerly anticipating a reply that would match his imagination.
Xiao Fengtai thought he would do anything if only he and Jiang Tong could go back to the way they were. But he could do nothing; he didn't even understand why they had reached this point.
***
Jiang Tong put down his phone and returned to the ward. His mother was still in a deep sleep, moaning softly even in her dreams from the torment of her illness. In truth, she had rarely been conscious lately. Since her first release from the ICU, they had received two more critical condition notices due to recurring complications. No one discussed the worst-case scenario, but his mother’s body, wasting away like dry wood, and the doctor’s furrowed brow over the lab results were silent omens, reminding them that they were losing ground in the battle against cancer.
Fang Dayong was sitting by the bed, staring blankly. The man was naturally large, and wrapped in his bulky winter clothes on a small folding stool, he looked particularly cramped and pathetic. Over the course of the winter, the white hair at his temples had suddenly multiplied. Hearing the door, he stood up. "Tong, you're here."
Jiang Tong assumed he was there to swap shifts. "Why are you here so early today, Uncle? Don't you have to pick up Bei Bei from her tutoring?"
Fang Dayong gave a forced chuckle, his hand unconsciously gripping his scarf. "Right, right. I told her to go home and heat up some food herself today." He paused. "Tong, I need to talk to you about something. It won't take long, just ten minutes."
Jiang Tong’s heart tightened. "What is it?"
Fang Dayong checked his watch. "Let’s talk outside. We shouldn't disturb your mother’s rest."
His expression was earnest. Though Jiang Tong was filled with apprehension, he couldn't refuse and agreed. Fang Dayong had said it would only take ten minutes, yet he led Jiang Tong all the way out of the hospital and into a nearby cafe, even ordering a drink for each of them.
Jiang Tong’s apprehension escalated into dread. Since Song Yiyi had fallen ill, Fang Dayong had been eating plain steamed buns with fermented bean curd for lunch while out driving his taxi just to save money. A thirty-yuan cup of coffee was worth two weeks of his lunch money.
He stopped the server. "I don't drink coffee. Plain water is fine."
In the end, with one coffee and one water on the table, Fang Dayong still pushed the coffee toward him. He picked up the plain water and downed it in one gulp. When he set the glass down, his hand was trembling slightly, as if he hadn't just drunk water, but a full glass of strong liquor.
"Tong," he said, not daring to look at him. "What are your plans?"
Jiang Tong didn't touch the coffee. "I don't understand what you mean."
"I mean your mother," Fang Dayong said, suddenly stammering as if he had lost the ability to speak. "About your mother... what do you... think..."
"I've discussed it with the doctor." The premonition was coming true second by second, yet as long as the truth wasn't torn open before his eyes, Jiang Tong could pretend he saw nothing. "The chemotherapy hasn't been very effective, and continuing it is too hard on her body. We need to stop for a bit so she can recover. There are several targeted drugs not yet officially on the market in China that work very well for late-stage patients. Once the genetic testing results come back next week, if they're a match, I'll find someone to bring them over from Singapore."
"There were patients in similar situations as Mom who saw their tumor cells decrease rapidly after using the medication, some even managed to be discharged..."
"Drugs not yet available in China... they must be expensive," Fang Dayong murmured.
Jiang Tong choked up for a moment. "Yes. The medication alone will definitely cost over ten thousand a month. But I still have some savings, and I'm interviewing for jobs in Beijing. Two good companies have already moved me to the second round of interviews. The salary should be quite high."
"You're not going to study anymore?"
Jiang Tong managed a small smile. "No. If I don't get an offer with a scholarship, I won't go."
The moment the words left his mouth, he began to regret them. It was like two armies facing off; a single second of negligence had allowed the opponent to find an opening.
Sure enough, Fang Dayong followed up immediately. "Actually, a few days ago, when your mother was feeling a bit better, she talked to me. She said... after she's gone, her biggest worry is you."
Fang Dayong still didn't look at him. "She couldn't bring herself to say it, so she asked me to tell you."
"Once this round of treatment is over, she’s stopping."
Jiang Tong’s expression didn't change. "It's common for patients to have unstable emotions. I apologize on her behalf. She doesn't say it, but she’s very grateful to you in her heart. I'll talk to her when I go back."
"I agreed to it too," Fang Dayong said quickly. "After this round, we're taking your mother home. We won't let her suffer this misery anymore."
Jiang Tong’s smile finally began to crumble. "Uncle, this isn't a matter of suffering..."
But Fang Dayong cut him off directly. "Tong, the family has no money left."
A man who was usually timid and taciturn became more eloquent than most once he finally spoke up.
"It's not just the medicine. There's the bed fees, the nursing fees, all sorts of miscellaneous costs. Just staying in the hospital costs tens of thousands every month. Your mother didn't have a job before, so she doesn't have employee insurance. The resident insurance only covers ten or twenty percent; the rest is all out of pocket."
"You know what's in the bank books. There's no money left, truly none. Never mind the few coins in my pocket, I've already borrowed from every relative and friend I have. If we keep treating her, we'll have to sell the house."
He looked up, gazing at Jiang Tong imploringly. "Tong, you know in your heart... I can't sell this house."
"Bei Bei has followed me all these years and hasn't had a single day of good life. I'm a useless man; this house is the only thing I can leave her."
Jiang Tong remained silent amidst Fang Dayong’s frantic justifications. His silence created an invisible pressure that made the other man ramble even more.
"You've seen how I've treated your mother these past few years, Tong. If there were any other way, I wouldn't say these things."
"If you want to blame me or curse me, I'll take it. But I'm truly useless; I really don't know what else to do."
"At the end of the day, your mother brought it up first. She said she didn't want to be a burden to you. I scolded her at first, said her head wasn't clear, that there's no such thing as a 'burden' between parents and children. But she told me over and over, and even said if I didn't agree, she'd wait until I wasn't looking and jump out the window..."
"I understand." Jiang Tong finally reached his limit and cut him off.
Fang Dayong snapped back to his senses and apologized timidly again. "Tong, I was just too anxious. I wasn't watching my words. Please don't hold it against me."
Jiang Tong heard himself let out a short laugh. "You've worked so hard. How could I possibly blame you?"
He stood up and walked straight out of the cafe.
It was the coldest part of the northern winter. Jiang Tong wasn't wearing an overcoat, yet he strode aimlessly through the streets against the biting wind. It felt as though a fire were burning in his chest; his blood was boiling, and his internal organs were being seared with agony. He knew that if he stopped walking, he didn't know what he might do.
Why had he never received an offer? Once, twice, three times... even Pei Jing felt sorry for him, asking if he had made some mistake when submitting his materials. Mrs. Xiao’s face surfaced in his mind—an elegant, old-fashioned socialite who didn't get angry even when he defied her to her face. She had the same eyes as Xiao Fengtai.
He hadn't expected Xiao Fengtai to get an offer before him. An offer earned entirely through his own hard work without relying on his family... Jiang Tong should be happy, yet the boy had sounded so cautious on the phone. He was observing Jiang Tong's reaction. When had that child, who once dared to throw a check in his face without a second thought, started acting like a student who had done something wrong whenever he was around him?
It was because he was too useless. Not only useless, but naive. He had been living a precarious life on a sheet of floating ice, yet he had mistaken it for solid ground and even dragged another person down with him, lying to him that this was the shore.
Someone bumped into him, and Jiang Tong looked down. A little boy, bundled up in a thick cotton coat like a ball, didn't cry even though he had fallen on his bottom. He just looked up and blinked his large eyes at Jiang Tong.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!" A young mother arrived breathless to pick up the boy, apologizing profusely. "Children are so mischievous, I'm terribly sorry."
Jiang Tong waved his hand to indicate it was fine. The mother gave him a grateful smile, hugged her son tight, and left. As she walked away, she continued to scold the boy in a low voice, though her tone wasn't harsh. The boy wasn't afraid; he leaned over his mother’s shoulder with a finger in his mouth, staring curiously at Jiang Tong even as they moved further away.
A string in his heart, stretched to its absolute limit, finally snapped with a sharp *crack*.
Only when he stopped did he realize that not only were his cheeks frozen, but even his fingers tucked in his pockets were stiff. Jiang Tong fumbled with his phone for a long time before he finally dialed the number.
It was five in the morning in London. The phone rang twice and was quickly answered.
"Hello, this is Jiang Tong. I've contacted you before." He remained standing where he was, watching the retreating backs of the mother and son. "I would like to speak with Mrs. Xiao."
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Worlds Apart | Chapter 49 | The Breaking Point | Novela.app | Novela.app
