The Byoukidere Is Her Sweetie-Chapter 146 - : 146: Who are Xu Fang’s parents? (Second update)
Chapter 146: 146: Who are Xu Fang’s parents? (Second update)
Jiang Zhi dropped Zhou Xufang off at Yuquan Bay; it was almost half past nine.
Just as they entered the complex, Zhou Xufang heard someone excitedly calling her.
“Xufang.”
“Xufang.”
It was Mr. Fang, the security guard.
Zhou Xufang approached and greeted him cheerfully, “Hello, Uncle Fang.”
...
Mr. Fang poked his head out of the window, his face crinkling with a smile like a blooming daisy, “You’re just getting back now? It’s not safe for a young girl to be out so late—” He paused upon noticing another person beside the young lady. Mr. Fang squinted, “And who might this be?”
Zhou Xufang introduced them straightforwardly, “This is my boyfriend.”
Jiang Zhi nodded, neither warm nor dismissive.
Mr. Fang looked at Jiang Zhi, revealing a kindly smile, “You’re Jiang Zhi, aren’t you?”
“Do you know me?”
“Of course, the great director, right?” Mr. Fang looked back and forth between Jiang Zhi and Zhou Xufang as if he were a madam of a brothel who had just sold off a girl, “Ah, you two really are a match made in heaven.”
Jiang Zhi liked the sound of that, “Thank you.”
Mr. Fang fished out two fruit jellies and handed them to Zhou Xufang, “Here, take these and enjoy.”
She accepted them, politely thanked him, and then headed upstairs with Jiang Zhi.
Mr. Fang watched their compatible silhouettes from afar and sighed sentimentally, “How wonderful.”
The fire that year burned down the Luo Family’s flower shed completely. Everyone said that child was gone, but not a single member of the Luo family showed even a hint of sorrow.
Everyone turned a blind eye or simply watched from the sidelines.
Only that young man, that frail young man, he took an urn, went in and came out with a box full of ashes.
Only that young man, it was he alone who cried. Holding that orange cat and the urn, he sat in the charred remains of the flower shed for a long time, weeping.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m too late…”
Out of so many people, only he was the one who grieved.
Thinking back, Mr. Fang heaved a heavy sigh, lost in thought when someone behind him called out, “Mr. Fang Dashun.”
Mr. Fang turned around, “I’m not Fang Dashun.”
He had changed his name so many years ago!
“Then you must be Mr. Fang Xiaoxi, correct?” She emerged from the dim light, “I am Tang Xiang, daughter of Tang Guangji”
Tang Guangji…
At the mention of that name, Mr. Fang’s expression turned cautious, “What do you want with me?”
Tang Xiang stepped forward, “I wanted to ask about the fire at the Luo family back then.”
He waved his hand dismissively, his face a mask of ‘I don’t know anything! How would I know? You could ask me a thousand times and I still wouldn’t know!’
“I was just a firefighter, what could I possibly know about it?”
Tang Xiang wasn’t in a hurry, continuing calmly, “As it happens, the thing I’m asking about is something only you, a firefighter, would know.”
This girl came prepared.
Mr. Fang crossed his arms behind his back, “What do you want to ask?”
“When you rescued Luo San from the fire, was she still alive?”
Without a second thought, he replied, “She was dead.”
He was lying.
That night, an ambulance clearly arrived.
Tang Xiang walked into the guardhouse, bowed slightly, “Mr. Fang, my father was a victim of that fire. I’m not here in any capacity related to the Luo Family; I’m here as a victim’s family member.” She placed a business card on the table, “If you remember anything, please contact me.”
That night, the moon shone bright amidst a sparse constellation of stars.
Zhou Xufang dreamed of a little bald boy, squatting behind iron bars, his hands clutching a bunch of foxtails. He had been there a long time, from the break of dawn till sunset’s glow.
Above him, the cicadas’ noise would cease and then surge, surging and then ceasing.
Below, the little bald boy holding the foxtails fought off sleep.
In the distance, someone called, “Luo San.”
The drowsy boy instantly opened his eyes, looked up to see vast swaths of sunset clouds, and beneath them, a young man.
The young man wore white clothes, including white shoes, emerging from the orange glow of the setting sun, “What are you doing squatting here?”
The little bald boy didn’t speak, instead offering his foxtails.
While the young man seemed a bit disdainful, he still accepted them, the sunset reflecting in his eyes, bringing forth a faint smile, “Waiting for me, huh?”
The little bald boy nodded.
He was waiting for him, not knowing when he would come, so he waited three days, each day gathering a large bunch of foxtails, waiting here, wishing he could pick flowers for him, but the owner of the flower shed would beat him.
All he could do was pick foxtails to give to him.
The young man was handsome, holding the foxtails so beautifully that it was almost unreal. He said, “Hold out your hand.”
The little bald boy extended his dirty hand.
He handed him a can of milk, “This is for you.”
The little bald boy grinned.
Outside the fence, three cars stopped, with people shouting, “Brother Zhi.”
“Brother Zhi.”
“Jiang Zhi!”
“What are you doing? Hurry up!”
Those were the young man’s friends, urging him on.
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He turned back reluctantly, replying, “Xue Baoyi, stop rushing me.” Then he stood up and said to the little bald boy, “I was just passing by, gotta go.”
Holding the foxtails, he waved and left.
The little bald boy clutched the fence, desperately pressing his head through. The young man got into a car and was out of sight, so the boy climbed up on the fence. After the car had gone far, he clutched the milk and grinned foolishly.
Looking around, seeing no one else, he opened his mouth to whisper the young man’s name.
“Jiang, Zhi.”
“Jiang, Zhi.”
The voice was very hoarse, from unskilled to practiced.
“Jiang Zhi.”
“Jiang Zhi.”
Zhou Xufang suddenly woke from her dream and realized her pillow was wet with tears.
She got up from the bed, sat stunned for a long time, took a can of milk from the refrigerator, opened it, and took a sip. Back in bed, she could no longer sleep. Eyes open, she stared at the chandelier above her bed, muttering Jiang Zhi’s name intermittently.
At eight in the morning, Shuangjiang came to her: “Tang Xiang has met with the forensic doctor.”
Zhou Xufang had barely slept all night, her eyelids were heavy, her voice nasal: “Did they find anything?”
“She tested many people, but there were no parental relationships,” Shuangjiang was still trying to make sense of it. “But why did she use your DNA for testing? Does she suspect you’re related to He Xiangxiu?” Tang Xiang had compared Zhou Xufang’s DNA with all of He Xiangxiu’s relatives in her hometown.
Zhou Xufang was silent for a long time: “The Luo Family claimed publically that Luo San was a child of He Xiangxiu’s relatives. Tang Xiang suspects that I am Luo San.”
Shuangjiang sent two exclamation points.
Zhou Xufang’s eyes gradually grew darker: “If Tang Xiang’s speculation is correct, it would confirm one thing: the statement by the Luo Family is a lie. Luo San is not a child from He Xiangxiu’s hometown, she is very likely from the Luo Family itself.” Her shoulders slumped, she suddenly sighed, “Shuangjiang.”
Shuangjiang: “Hmm?”
Zhou Xufang’s voice was muffled, despondently: “I’m beginning to suspect it now too, that I might be Luo San.”
She had already dreamt many times of the little bald boy. Last night, besides the bald boy, Jiang Zhi was also in her dream.
Maybe it wasn’t a dream.
She had memories of the Luo Family’s attic; she was either the person involved or a bystander, and now Tang Xiang was also investigating her. All clues were pointing in this one direction.
Zhou Xufang continued to sigh, her mood very low: “But I’m still not certain, and I don’t want to be part of the Luo Family.”
At nine o’clock, the sun was nowhere to be seen, and large clouds covered the sky, dark and oppressive, like a heavy rain was imminent. Tang Xiang parked her car outside the sanatorium and took a box to the ward.
Xiao Qu was inside changing the bedsheets: “Miss Tang is here.”
“My mom?”
“Xiao Hui took her to the park.”
Tang Xiang left a box of small cakes on the table for Xiao Qu before leaving the ward.
At the back of the sanatorium was a small park. Ms. He, formerly seated in a wheelchair, ran down to her upon seeing her.
“Xiangxiang!”
“Xiangxiang!”
Ms. He was very happy, running toward her.
Tang Xiang helped her sit back in the wheelchair: “I brought your favorite walnut pastries.”
“You’re spending money recklessly again.” Though she complained, she clutched the box of walnut pastries tightly.
Tang Xiang told Xiao Hui to busy herself elsewhere while she took Ms. He for a stroll in the park. Along the way, Ms. He chattered non-stop, grasping the box of walnut pastries and laughing foolishly. Tang Xiang asked her, “Why aren’t you eating?”
“I’ll wait for your dad to come back before eating.”
Ms. He’s mental state fluctuated, and right then, she wasn’t very lucid.
She stopped the wheelchair and walked ahead, squatting down, casually asking: “Mom, where’s Luo San?”
Ms. He frowned: “Where did she run off to again?” She looked around, “Did she go to steal the braised pork again?”
“That silly girl isn’t afraid of getting beaten, still daring to steal meat to eat.”
After scolding the silly child, Ms. He stood up from the wheelchair, clamoring that she would go look for Luo San.
Tang Xiang didn’t stop her, following behind: “Mom, where are Luo San’s parents?”
“Her mother,” Ms. He suddenly stopped, whispering, “Her mother was locked up.”
“Locked up where?”
Ms. He suddenly became panicked, pacing back and forth, mumbling incessantly: “Dead, she died.”
“Then her father—”
“Shh!” Ms. He ran over, covering her mouth, looking around anxiously, “They will kill you, you mustn’t talk, mustn’t speak…”
Thunder roared, and then rain fell, the chill of winter rain piercing to the bone.
Xue Baoyi had just arrived at the tea restaurant when she received a phone call from Zhou Xufang.
“Mr. Xue, it’s me, Zhou Xufang.”
“Are you looking for Brother Zhi?”
Zhou Xufang said: “No, I want to meet with you.”
Xue Baoyi was surprised: “Just me and you?”
“Yes.”
What could be the matter?
Could the young couple have had a quarrel?
After much thought, Xue Baoyi inquired: “Should I inform Brother Zhi beforehand?”
“No need.”
So, this was a secret meet-up without Jiang Zhi knowing? Xue Baoyi had a bad premonition.
Half an hour later, Zhou Xufang arrived at the tea restaurant.
Xue Baoyi, ever the gentleman, stood up to pull out her chair: “Please, sit.” He turned back and called out to the waiter, “I’ve ordered milk for you.”
Jiang Zhi treated his girlfriend like his darling baby, so Xue Baoyi only dared to give her milk.
Zhou Xufang sat down: “Thank you.”
Xue Baoyi took his seat across from her: “Did you need something?”
“Yes.”
He guessed, “Is it about Brother Zhi?”
Zhou Xufang nodded. The waiter brought the milk, and after taking a sip, licking her lips, she said: “Luo Qing mentioned that Luo San was someone dear to Jiang Zhi’s heart,” she wanted to ask, “were they in a relationship at a young age?”
“…”
Indeed, it was a loaded question.
Xue Baoyi decided his safety was the priority: “You could just ask Jiang Zhi directly.”
Zhou Xufang had figured she wouldn’t get answers over a phone call, which is why she had arranged to meet him in person. She honestly admitted, “Jiang Zhi gets very upset whenever he hears Luo San’s name.”
