Chapter 140: If the Heart Aches, Let Go and the Pain Shall Cease

It feels good to be home. As soon as I stepped into the entrance of the village, I took a deep breath of the fresh, rustic air before walking toward the center of the settlement.

Our village is home to over three thousand people, a prominent community in the surrounding ten miles. Aside from us, the Hu clan, there are no outsiders, so everyone gets along remarkably well. Because every household shares ancestral ties, there have never been any major conflicts. Even if trouble arose between two families, one only needed to produce the genealogy records to resolve any lingering grievances.

"Mom, Dad, I’m home!"

I pushed open the front gate and shouted, acting as if I were worried my parents wouldn't know I had returned.

"You brat, we know you're back! You shout so loudly every single time—your father’s ears aren't deaf yet. Come on in; your mother just finished cooking a feast to welcome you home. We’re going to have a proper celebration for your graduation today!"

My father spoke from the main hall, rubbing his hands together as he walked out. He looked eager to take my luggage. He swept the bags from my hands in an instant, then pushed me toward the house with a smile. To be honest, it was rare to see my father this happy.

"Dadong, come sit here. Let me introduce you to someone!"

The moment I was pushed into the room, I heard my mother’s voice. Sitting beside her was a girl I didn't recognize. She looked to be about my age, quite bright-eyed and beautiful.

"Dadong, let me introduce you. This is Liu Jingya from the neighboring village. She’s a college student, too. What do you think?" My mother winked at me as she spoke.

I hadn't expected my mother to start matchmaking the moment I graduated. Although I was twenty-three, I wasn't in such a rush. I noticed Liu Jingya observing me intently, which made me feel quite awkward.

After a meal filled with chatter, I found that Jingya was actually a nice girl. After dinner, she even helped my mother with the dishes, leaving my father and me alone in the room.

"Dongzi, what do you think? Do you like her?" My father asked, nudging me while I was deep in thought.

"Dad, you know I have to go to Egypt. I can't exactly bring her along, can I? For the sake of my career and my future, you can't join forces with Mom on this!" I looked at my father with a pitiful expression, blinking at the man who had doted on me since I was a child.

"Go on, get out of here. You're a grown man, stop acting like that. Let me tell you, this girl Jingya is a gem. It’ll be your loss if you miss this chance!" My father pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and kept his eyes fixed on the door of the main hall.

I knew he wasn't just looking outside. I was the only one who knew what he was really thinking. My mother forbade him from smoking, so he had to sneak it; if she caught him, he would surely be lectured like a child.

The day passed, and Jingya eventually went home. My mother tidied up my room and urged me to sleep, then went to talk to my father about the day's events. I could hear their conversation clearly, as I was no longer an ordinary person—I could even hear the faint buzzing of a fly landing on skin.

Fortunately, my father didn't defect. Being more educated than my mother, he argued that a man must prioritize his career, and added that I had already graduated from university and was certainly not lacking for suitors. That managed to put my mother's plans to rest.

I stayed home for seven or eight days, and Jingya visited a few times. It seemed she had taken a liking to me; she brought gifts every time she came, which made me feel quite embarrassed.

It wasn't until the day I left that I told her it wouldn't work between us. I knew it hurt her, but I didn't want a girl as good as her waiting for me, especially since there was no foundation of romance between us.

Even so, she came to the train station to see me off, fussing over me and making sure I was cared for—things my own mother rarely did. I hadn't expected her to be so thoughtful. Her actions gave me a sudden urge to stay, but I didn't. I was afraid that the other side of me—the side that had undergone a transformation—would terrify her. I didn't want her to fear the real me, so I chose to leave, offering only a few words of blessing before boarding the train.

My heart ached terribly. I didn't know if I felt this way for everyone, but even though I had only known Jingya for a week, it felt as though I had spent seven years with her. Through the window, I watched her figure shrink into the distance, my eyes brimming with hot tears. This feeling of love at first sight was strange; it was the same way I felt when I first met Ashuang—a feeling that drew me in so deeply I couldn't pull myself away.

Jingya’s heart was bleeding, too. Perhaps my words of blessing had wounded her. Even when the train had traveled quite far, I could still see her silhouette from the window. She remained standing by the tracks, watching me go. What I couldn't see was that her heart wasn't just shedding tears; it was bleeding.

By the time I reached Z City, my mood had yet to settle. I dove into the bar where I had previously tracked Ashuang, grabbed glass after glass of hard liquor from Ma Feifei, and downed them in one breath.

"Cutting water with a blade only makes it flow faster; toasting sorrow only makes it grow deeper. I wonder what troubles my friend today?"

It was Ma Feifei. She sat down with a glass of liquor of her own. The aura of a mature woman she exuded remained unchanged—elegant and grand. I glanced at her without speaking, then stood up and took out the mask I had worn when I first visited. I pressed it to my face and looked at her, hoping she would recognize me.

I hadn't expected her memory to be so sharp. Amidst the many guests she saw every day, she recognized me instantly. She nudged my shoulder and pointed with a slender finger to a corner of the counter. Following her lead, I saw a girl drinking alone.

"That's Ashuang...!"

I almost shouted in surprise, but managed to contain myself. I turned to ask Ma Feifei why Ashuang was still at the bar if she was supposed to be looking for work.

Ma Feifei explained that Ashuang had only arrived from out of town in the last two days. She had come to see her father off, as he was heading to Egypt for research. With her father gone, she was left all alone, which was why she was drinking her sorrows away. She was likely already intoxicated.

I downed the rest of my drink and handed Ma Feifei my VIP card, which held 100,000 in cash. She insisted on refusing, saying the drinks were on the house; she just wanted me to take Ashuang home, as drinking like this would ruin her health.

I walked over to Ashuang and tapped her swaying shoulder. The moment I touched her, I felt a weight in my arms—she had fallen right into them. That saved me the trouble of her waking up, resisting, or lashing out at me.

I returned the mask to Ma Feifei, carried Ashuang out of the bar, hailed a taxi, and headed straight for the residential complex where Uncle Ma lived.