Jingshen, your father is getting old

Zhao Jianguo drove into the residential complex's underground garage, switched off the engine, and sat in the car for a while.

The complex counted as upscale even in Deep City, with lush landscaping, strict property management, and elevators that opened directly into the apartments.

He hadn't bought a villa, but not because he couldn't afford one. With the wealth his father, Zhao Tiezhu, had accumulated over the years, the interest on the savings alone was more than their family of three could spend in several lifetimes.

But given his position, living in a villa would attract too much attention. Zhao Jianguo didn't like showing off. As long as there was enough room, that was fine.

A spacious duplex of over two hundred square meters was plenty!

He opened the door. The entryway light was on, casting a warm yellow glow over the shoe cabinet. A pair of pink women's heels sat neatly beside it, their toes pointing outward.

The sound of the television drifted from the living room.

"You're back?" a woman called from the sofa.

Zhao Jianguo changed his shoes and walked into the living room.

His wife, Shen Jing, was curled up on the sofa in loose loungewear, her hair casually tied in a ponytail and a blanket draped over her legs.

The television was on, but she held her phone, scrolling through something.

Shen Jing was forty-two, though she looked about thirty-five. She had a round face, fair skin, and two fine lines at the corners of her eyes that looked especially lovely when she smiled.

She worked as a household registration officer at the district police bureau. Nine to five, nothing strenuous, just a lot of little things to handle.

Zhao Jianguo walked over, sat down on the sofa, and leaned against her.

"I'm exhausted."

Shen Jing put down her phone and wrapped an arm around him, rubbing the back of his head with her other hand.

"Have you eaten?"

"I had a little at the old man's place."

"How's Uncle Chen doing?"

"He's fine. Just superficial injuries. Still full of life, and his voice is as strong as ever when he's cursing people out."

Shen Jing laughed, her hand still moving.

"That's good. I was worried before you left. He's in his seventies. A car accident at his age is no small thing."

Zhao Jianguo murmured in agreement and buried his face in her shoulder. His wife carried a faint scent, not perfume but laundry detergent, mingled with the warmth of her body.

"Where's our son?"

"In his room, studying. He's taking the college entrance exam this year. He can't afford to slack off."

Zhao Jianguo smiled. "Does our son even need to study? He placed in the top fifty in the city on his mock exams."

"He still needs to keep it up." Shen Jing gave him a pat. "Stop praising him all the time. You'll give him a big head."

"He takes after me. That won't happen!"

Shen Jing rolled her eyes at him and said nothing.

Zhao Jianguo lounged on the sofa a little longer before getting up. "I'm going to make a call in the study. I'll be right out."

Shen Jing nodded and pulled the blanket more snugly around herself.

The study was small, with a desk, a computer, and a bookcase. Half the shelves held law books, the other half their son's study guides.

Zhao Jianguo sat down, leaned back, and closed his eyes as he rubbed between his brows.

Jingshen had been estranged from his family for so many years, and Zhao Jianguo had had more than enough of being the go-between!

But when he visited Chen Desheng that day, he could clearly see how much the man had aged. He had started dwelling on the past, something Zhao Jianguo knew he had never done before.

In his seventies, living alone in such a huge house. Thinking about it, Zhao Jianguo couldn't help feeling sorry for him.

Zhao Jianguo took out his phone, opened his contacts, and called Chen Jingshen. The call connected after two rings.

"Jianguo."

"Jingshen." Zhao Jianguo leaned back in his chair. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No. I just got back from the office."

They fell silent for a moment. They hadn't seen each other in almost twenty years. They had grown up together since they were little kids running around naked, yet now they sounded almost formal with each other.

"How are things with you?" Chen Jingshen spoke first. "Get promoted yet?"

"Promoted? I'm still deputy station chief. A little police station with endless crap to deal with."

"With your personality, it's no surprise you haven't moved up." Chen Jingshen chuckled. "You don't know how to play the game."

Zhao Jianguo laughed too. "You sure know how to hit the nail on the head." Then he took a deep breath, done with beating around the bush.

"That thing you asked me to do—I went to see him."

The other end went quiet for a moment.

"Your father's fine. Just superficial injuries. He bumped his forehead and split the corner of his mouth. When I got there, he was cursing someone out louder than I could."

Chen Jingshen said nothing.

Zhao Jianguo could hear his breathing, a little heavier than before.

"That's good."

"Jingshen." Zhao Jianguo hesitated. "I want to tell you something, from the heart."

"Go ahead."

"Your father's getting old."

There was no sound from the other end.

"When I visited today, he sat on the sofa talking to me. He told me about hauling cargo at the docks with my dad and the others back in the day, how my dad was the best fighter, how those old friends became sworn brothers." Zhao Jianguo paused. "As he talked, his eyes went red."

Chen Jingshen still said nothing.

"He lives alone in that huge house, surrounded by people, but what does that amount to? They're all his men, not his family. Seeing him like that didn't sit right with me."

Only after a long while did Chen Jingshen speak.

"I know."

His voice was muffled.

"Come back and see him. It's not like you're on the other side of the world. Sea City to Deep City is just over two hours by plane."

Chen Jingshen didn't respond.

Zhao Jianguo knew he was thinking. After a moment's hesitation, he finally said what he had been holding in for a long time.

"Jingshen, you've blamed your father for what happened back then all these years. But have you ever considered that it had nothing to do with him?"

The other end fell quiet.

"That business between you and the girl from the Lin Family—it was Lin Zhengye who disapproved. He was the one standing in your way. What did your father have to do with it? From beginning to end, he never said a word against it. Sure, he's a gangster, but when has he ever said no to you?"

Chen Jingshen's voice was a little hoarse. "Jianguo, you don't understand."

"How don't I understand?"

Zhao Jianguo raised his voice too.

"You've been gone for almost twenty years, and your father's been on his own. On holidays, when everyone else's homes are full of laughter, he sits alone in his living room watching TV. He curses you, says you've got guts, says if you leave, you'd better never come back. But do you know that every year on your birthday, he lays out a whole table of food? All your favorites. He won't let anyone touch it. He leaves it there all night and only clears it away the next day."

A long breath came from the other end.

"Jingshen, I'm not trying to talk you into anything. I'm just telling you what I know." Zhao Jianguo's voice softened. "Your father's in his seventies. How many years does he have left?"

Silence.

Zhao Jianguo didn't press him. He quietly waited for Chen Jingshen's response.

After ten or fifteen seconds, Chen Jingshen spoke in a very low voice. "Let me think about it."

Zhao Jianguo let out a relieved breath. Thinking about it was a start. Whenever he brought this up before, Chen Jingshen would hang up immediately. Saying he would think about it was already progress.

"All right. Think it over. Call me when you've decided."

"Mm."

"Get some rest, then."

"You too."

After hanging up, Zhao Jianguo put his phone on the desk, leaned back in his chair, and let out a long breath.

The study door opened.

Shen Jing came in carrying a cup of tea and set it on the desk in front of him. A few goji berries floated in the white porcelain cup, and the water was still hot.

"Don't work too late."

Zhao Jianguo reached out, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pressed his face against her lower belly.

The fabric of her loungewear was soft, and so was the flesh beneath it, warm with her body heat. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath.

Shen Jing rested her hand on her husband's head, gently stroking it.

"Jing," he called, his voice muffled.

"Hmm?"

"All these years, I haven't pulled strings or tried to climb the ladder, and I'm still just a lowly deputy station chief. Do you resent me for it?"

Shen Jing's hand paused, then resumed its gentle strokes.

"What would I resent you for?"

"For not amounting to much. Some of my classmates joined the force after I did, and they're already station chiefs. Some have even moved up to the district bureau. I'm the only one still stuck where I was."

Shen Jing looked down at him and smiled.

"Zhao Jianguo, when did you get so sentimental?"

Zhao Jianguo lifted his head to look at her.

Shen Jing pressed his head back against her and kept stroking it.

"When I married you, you were just an ordinary police officer. You made a little over two thousand a month, and I made eighteen hundred. We lived in a rented place with no air-conditioning in summer, and you'd sit there shirtless, fanning me by hand. I didn't resent you then, and now you're asking me this?"

Zhao Jianguo said nothing.

"Besides, aren't things pretty good now? You're a deputy station chief with responsibilities, you don't take bribes or abuse your position, and your conscience is clear. Our son's doing well. He'll have no trouble getting into a top university this year. We're not short of money, either. We couldn't spend everything your dad earned even if we tried."

Shen Jing looked down at her husband, her eyes smiling.

"What more do you want?"

Zhao Jianguo kept his arms around his wife, refusing to let go.

Shen Jing continued, "I'm happy with what we have. Really. We may not have as much as some people, but we have more than plenty of others. So many people would envy a family like ours."

Zhao Jianguo raised his head and looked at her.

His wife's face looked especially gentle beneath the desk lamp. The two fine lines at the corners of her eyes seemed a little deeper than they had during the day, but they didn't make her look old at all. Instead, they gave her an indescribable charm.

He reached out and ran his hand over her bottom.

Shen Jing's loungewear was thin, with only a pair of panties beneath it. As Zhao Jianguo pressed his hand against her, he could feel the shape of her rounded, lifted cheeks. They felt wonderful.

Shen Jing shivered and let out a soft little sound, then gave him a coquettish roll of her eyes.

"We've been married forever, and you still can't behave."

Zhao Jianguo chuckled.

Shen Jing took her hand off his head and turned to leave. At the doorway, she glanced back at him.

"I'm going to shower." Her voice was a little lower than before. "Hurry up and finish, then come over."

Zhao Jianguo smiled and nodded. "All right. I'll be right there."

Shen Jing rolled her eyes at him again and left.

Zhao Jianguo sat in his chair and glanced down at his phone screen. Chen Jingshen's number was still at the top of his call history.

He thought for a moment, then put down his phone and stood.

The rush of water came from the bathroom outside.

Zhao Jianguo walked over and gently pushed the door open. Steam billowed out, hazy and thick. Beads of water coated the glass partition, blurring the figure behind it.

Shen Jing's voice came from inside the bathroom. "What are you standing in the doorway for? Come in."

Smiling, Zhao Jianguo pushed the door open and stepped inside.