"My" Father

Tang Mao De reclined sideways on a hospital bed in the Oncology Department's Inpatient Department.

For Tang Mao De, he no longer cared what tomorrow might look like.

These past few days, he kept involuntarily sinking into memories—memories of his life.

Those memories always ended with sentiments framed as "if only" and "then," followed by a long sigh.

Wang Jun set the thermos container in his hand on the table beside the bed. "Second Brother, the restaurant made 4,857 yesterday. I asked around at the hospital too—there's still plenty left from the money Little Chu Brother paid. Don't worry. Just focus on getting better."

Tang Mao De's gaze remained vacant. He ignored Wang Jun.

Wang Jun had long grown used to Tang Mao De's personality. He opened the thermos container and took out several light dishes one by one.

"You're his maternal cousin once removed. Even by age, you're older than him. Why do you call him Brother?" Tang Mao De finally said slowly.

Wang Jun smiled. "I'm used to it. Aren't you used to hearing it by now? Little Chu Brother's more capable than I am. If you ask me, Second Brother, you should just let him pursue his own career. What youngster can stand being stuck in a kitchen?"

"Aren't you a youngster too?"

"I'm different. I'll be thirty in a few years, and cooking is all I know. Don't you know Little Chu Brother? I once saw him sing a song, and the boss gave him a five-thousand-yuan gift. Five thousand for one song. Little Chu Brother finished it in five minutes, but even if we worked our arms off all day, we couldn't make that much."

As Wang Jun spoke, he reached out to help Tang Mao De sit up and eat.

Tang Mao De tilted his head away and refused to cooperate, clearly unwilling to eat.

"That's because you never saw him back when he had no orders. He'd sit in front of the computer all night."

Since Tang Mao De refused to eat, Wang Jun did not force him. He put the dishes back into the thermos one by one. "Isn't everything going pretty well now? Just like our restaurant—once the name got out there, we could make four or five thousand a day no matter what."

That only made Tang Mao De angrier. He turned to Wang Jun. "Exactly! If I put even a little effort into it, making five thousand a day wouldn't be a problem, right? I handed it over to him like that. If he were even remotely normal, if he put in the slightest effort, buying a house and a car would only be a matter of time. Singing? Singing my ass. He stays cooped up at home all day. If my health weren't so useless, who knows who'd go first?"

Wang Jun hurriedly cut him off. "All right, all right, Second Brother. Don't get mad. Let's not talk about him."

Outside, Tang Zhi Chu had yet to push open the door.

In his memories, there seemed to have been no "warm" moments between father and son.

"He" even harbored resentment toward his father.

By conventional standards, his father could not be considered successful—not in his career, financial circumstances, or family relationships.

He had lived in the old house for decades, drove nothing more than a van, and had gotten divorced.

When he ran the Night Market stall, he drank heavily year-round and sometimes gambled with those Drinking Buddies. In his memories, he had even owed tuition fees.

" Tang Zhi Chu's" withdrawn personality had much to do with his father.

After university, father and son often argued. Tang Mao De's temper had not changed, though his actions had—he borrowed money to open a restaurant with five private rooms.

That sparked another conflict. Tang Zhi Chu wanted to live his own life, while Father Tang wanted him to help at the restaurant, even if it meant the father worked for the son.

After hesitating for a long while, Tang Zhi Chu still pushed open the door.

The feeling was strange. This familiar yet unfamiliar father—it was their first meeting.

Fortunately, the Original Owner had not had much to say in front of his father either. Tang Zhi Chu pushed open the door, and the three exchanged a brief look before Tang Zhi Chu walked over and picked up the Medical Report that had been left beside the bed.

"Little Chu Brother's here!" Wang Jun rose to his feet.

Come to think of it, Wang Jun was three years older than Tang Zhi Chu. They had played together as children.

He might look honest and obedient now, but he had been a real troublemaker as a child.

Later, he got into trouble out of town and spent several months inside. Back then, Tang Mao De had many Drinking Buddies and cared greatly about so-called brotherhood. After drinking and talking with a few friends, he rushed over that very night. Three or four days later, he brought Wang Jun back.

After that, Wang Jun turned over a new leaf and learned to cook. When Tang Mao De opened his restaurant, he called Wang Jun over too. At least he was someone whose background he knew well.

When they met again years later, Wang Jun changed how he addressed Tang Zhi Chu, always calling him Little Chu Brother. Perhaps he had transferred the gratitude buried deep in his heart for Tang Mao De onto Tang Zhi Chu.

Tang Zhi Chu had always been introverted and withdrawn, so he never corrected the form of address.

"Brother Jun, thanks for your hard work," Tang Zhi Chu said stiffly.

Wang Jun waved his hand. "It's nothing. We hired another person at the restaurant, and they've already started. It's not busy."

Tang Zhi Chu gave an awkward sound and plopped down onto the stool beside him.

Tang Mao De snorted. "I'm not dying anytime soon. Instead of wasting your time coming to see me, you'd be better off getting serious about finding yourself a girlfriend."

Tang Mao De knew what Tang Zhi Chu had been doing lately, which was why Wang Jun had been taking care of him the whole time.

Tang Zhi Chu said nothing. He was still getting used to this feeling.

When Tang Mao De saw that Tang Zhi Chu remained silent, his anger flared again. "I'm not even asking you to bring one home. Just make more friends. What young man stays indoors every day without stepping outside? Look at your Cousin—he came to see me a few days ago, and he'd already changed to another Girl. Can't you learn from him? Is that thing of yours only good for peeing?"

Wang Jun coughed twice, then stood up. "Uh... I'm going to the bathroom."

Tang Zhi Chu: "..."

"Fine, silent again. I, Tang Mao De, used to rule the dinner table. When I started bragging, I went with liquor better than peanuts. I could chat up even some passing older sister until her legs went weak. So why can't you do it? University? Is university a place to study? Worthless. You couldn't even get a girlfriend through all of university. Don't tell me Old Tang the Second's line is going to end with you? Don't you know how to sing? Sing to those girls!"

Tang Zhi Chu finally looked up. Seeing that the old man would not shut up, he said, "They don't pay me, so why would I sing for them?"

Tang Mao De said, "I—"

Tang Zhi Chu said, "I can tell you haven't eaten. You don't even have the strength to curse people. Since when did you, Old Tang the Second, become so civilized? Don't tell me you can't do it anymore?"

Tang Mao De glared. "You little bastard, who are you talking about?"

Tang Zhi Chu got up, opened the thermos container, and took the food back out. "Only Brother Jun would still stew chicken soup for you, and you're sitting here pretending you have no appetite like some delicate woman. Who are you putting on this show for? Talking about who might go first? This?"

"You little bastard, you were eavesdropping?"

"I listened openly and honestly, so what? If you want to live a few more days, eat all this. With your attitude, you're worried about my next generation? You'll probably have a hard time even meeting your daughter-in-law. You can't expect her to go straight to your grave and burn paper offerings, can you?"

Tang Mao De was so furious that his nostrils flared and his eyes bulged. "You little brat, say that again? If I don't fight you when I get better, I'll take your surname. Fuck you."

Tang Zhi Chu shook his head, looking down on Tang Mao De, then backed away several steps. "Mad now, mad now. So even you have a day like this, Old Tang. Instead of thinking about fighting, you should practice that mouth of yours while you still have time. Otherwise, next time I come, you still won't be able to outtalk me."

After saying that, Tang Zhi Chu left the ward. But he did not leave immediately, and he deliberately did not close the door. Only after peeking inside for a while did he turn and leave.