kingnovel Chapter 727: Training Tracking and Thoughts of Returning Home
Chapter 727: Training Tracking and Thoughts of Returning Home
The train shook again, and Lu Baoyou's knees hit the seat in front of her.
The child in his arms cried even harder, his little fists clenching the corner of his clothes, tears and snot covering half of his sleeves.
He stared at his own shadow on the car window, his Adam's apple moving - was that bluish-gray shadow stuck to the glass just now really not an illusion?
"Young man?" The scarred man slapped the cigarette box in his palm.
"Where's the light? My cigarette is almost gone."
Lu Baoyou took out a lighter, and the metal shell hurt in his palm.
As the flames rose, he caught a glimpse of a centipede-like scar on the back of the man's hand, running from the wrist to the base of his finger.
"Thank you." The man took a deep breath, sparks flickering in the dark compartment.
"Where are you going?
Look at you, you're carrying a tattered schoolbag, you don't look like you're visiting relatives."
"Go back to Qingshuigou." Lu Baoyou's throat tightened.
There is not even a dot marked on the map for Qingshuigou. The train was opened two years ago, but this was his first time riding it.
“Qingshuigou?”
The man raised his eyebrows and said, "I'm familiar with that place. I went there ten years ago when I was doing transportation."
"There's a bunch of red peppers hanging under the eaves of the brick house of Old Lu's family at the east end of the village, right?"
Lu Baoyou's heart skipped a beat.
Old Lu family?
The year his father passed away, their home was still a mud house with the paint on the walls peeling off as if it had been gnawed by a dog.
"You must have remembered it wrongly." He lowered his head to comfort the child in his arms, his nails digging into his palms.
"No doubt." The man exhaled a puff of cigarette.
"That year my car broke down and I had a bowl of corn porridge at Old Lu's house."
"His wife was very sick, and his son was only ten years old. He squatted in front of the stove and made a fire, and the ashes flew into his face."
He suddenly came closer, and the smell of cigarettes and alcohol came towards him.
"Then I heard that Lao Lu ran away with the money?"
"Leaving the mother and daughter at home to starve?"
Lu Baoyou's ears were buzzing.
The sound of the train whistle mixed with the demon boy's sneer exploded in his mind.
"You're nosy." He pushed the child aside, and the child started crying again.
"Oh, oh, oh, I'm just a bad mouth." The man raised his hand and retreated back to his seat.
The shadow on the car window shook, and Lu Baoyou turned his head suddenly - there was nothing, only the vague outline of the yawning passenger opposite.
He touched the back of his neck, cold sweat running down his spine.
The demon boy's voice came out again: "What are you afraid of?"
"You go back now and see the mess your precious dad left behind."
"Shut up." He muttered through gritted teeth.
The old lady sitting next to him glanced at him and pulled her grandson closer to her.
The train finally pulled into Qingshuigou Station.
When Lu Baoyou got off the bus with his schoolbag, the setting sun was sinking into the valley, dyeing the dirt road blood red.
He stood under the bus stop, looking at the small Western-style building protruding from the distance - with its white tiled exterior walls and red tiled roof, it stood out like a thorn among the dilapidated adobe houses.
"That's the new one built by the Lu family." The old man selling roasted sweet potatoes squatted by the stove.
"His son came back last year, driving a black car with a leopard-like logo."
The old man used an iron hook to turn over the sweet potatoes.
"They say he's some big boss who built the road and this building for the village."
Lu Baoyou felt a bitter taste in her throat.
He remembered that when he was ten years old, his father came back suddenly in the same way - carrying a black leather suitcase and with a scent of perfume on his body that he had never smelled before.
His mother was holding onto the door frame and coughing. He hid behind the door and watched his father throw the suitcase onto the table. It opened with a "click" and was full of red bills.
“Come with me.”
Dad squatted down and touched his head.
"Come with me to the city, live in a big house, and eat McDonald's."
He didn't speak.
Mother leaned against the door, digging her fingernails into her palms, leaving crescent-shaped marks.
Later, my father slammed the door and left without taking the suitcase with him.
He opened the lid and found money inside.
There is another photo - Dad is hugging a woman in a red dress, smiling like a flower.
"Young comrade?" the old man handed over the roasted sweet potato. "Would you like two? They're hot."
Lu Baoyou shook his head.
He stared at the small Western-style building, feeling as if his feet were filled with lead.
The demon boy hummed in his mind: "Go in, take a look at your good brother, and see if your mother's portrait is placed in the center of the living room."
"Get out." He clenched the strap of his schoolbag until his knuckles turned white.
The wind blew over, bringing with it the moisture from the other side of the mountain and a faint fishy smell - like blood or rotten meat.
He suddenly remembered the shadow on the train, blue-gray, eyeless, and grinning.
“Baoyou?”
Someone shouted from behind.
He turned around and saw an old lady in a blue cloth shirt holding a basket of eggs.
"I'm Aunt Wang, your mother's old neighbor."
The old lady squinted her eyes.
"You are finally back. When your mother left..."
"She's gone?" Lu Baoyou's throat tightened.
Aunt Wang sighed, "That happened three years ago."
"I can't sleep all night long because of coughing, and I don't have money to see a doctor..." She pointed towards the small western-style building.
"The one in that room, your brother, didn't even pay for a coffin."
Lu Baoyou felt his temples throbbing.
The demon boy's voice suddenly turned sweet: "Go knock on the door and ask your good brother if he can get half of his father's money?"
He took two steps forward and then stopped.
The window of the small western-style building suddenly lit up, and warm yellow light shone through, illuminating a black cat squatting at the door.
The cat looked up at him, its eyes shining green.
“Baoyou?”
Aunt Wang pulled his sleeve,
"What's wrong with you? You look so pale."
"fine."
He forced a laugh.
"I just... want to see my mother's grave."
Aunt Wang sighed and led him behind the mountain.
The sun had completely set, and the mountain breeze was making the grass swirl.
Lu Baoyou touched the lighter in his pocket, the metal shell of which was warmed by his body temperature.
The demon boy was still muttering: "Go, knock on the door now and ask them why they are occupying your land..."
"Shut up!" he growled.
Aunt Wang was so frightened that she almost dropped the basket.
"Who are you talking to, kid?"
Lu Baoyou didn't respond.
He looked at the lights gradually lighting up in the valley, and suddenly remembered the night when he was ten years old - after his father slammed the door and left, his mother hugged him and cried,
He touched his mother's cold hand and heard wild dogs barking outside, one after another, like people crying.
The mountain breeze became cooler.
He followed Aunt Wang around the hill and saw a broken wooden board standing in the weeds, with the words "Lu's Mother's Tomb" written crookedly in red paint on it.
"Your mother passed away in a hurry and didn't erect a tombstone..." Aunt Wang's voice suddenly became distant.
Lu Baoyou squatted down and touched the paint on the wooden board, and a piece of red was stained on his fingertips.
The demon boy’s laughter exploded in his mind: “Did you see that?
Your mother doesn't even have a stone to burn, and your good brother lives in a small Western-style building, hugging his wife from the city..."
"Enough!" he roared, startling the chickadees so much that they fluttered off into flight.
Aunt Wang was so scared that she took two steps back and the eggs rolled all over the floor.
Lu Baoyou squatted in front of the grave, tears falling on the weeds.
He thought of his mother's last letter before she died - it was tucked inside an old textbook, wrinkled and with crooked handwriting: "Baoyou, don't blame your father. He was also bewitched by the ghost outside..."
"ghost?"
He wiped his face and said, "Isn't it me who is confused now?"
Car horns were heard at the foot of the mountain.
He looked up and saw a black car parked in front of the small Western-style building, its headlights illuminating the surroundings as bright as day.
The car door opened, and a young man in a suit got out, hugging a woman in a red dress—the color of the dress,
Exactly like the one in Dad's photo.
Mo Tong's voice suddenly became gentle: "Go over and ask him if he knows about the photo his father threw in the suitcase?"
Lu Baoyou stood up and brushed the dirt off his trouser legs.
The wind lifted the corner of his clothes, revealing the fruit knife tucked into his waist - he had bought it for some unknown reason on the train just now.
"Aunt Wang,"
He says,
"You go back first. I want to talk to my mother."
Aunt Wang left hesitantly.
Lu Baoyou looked at the lights at the foot of the mountain and touched the lighter in his pocket.
As the flames rose, he saw his own shadow in the firelight—the corners of the shadow's mouth pulled upwards, revealing a smile he had never seen before.
“Let’s go.”
The demon boy said, "Go knock on the door."
He walked down the mountain.
The wild grass scraped against my trouser legs, making a rustling sound.
The door light of the small western-style building was on, stretching his shadow very long, like a snake crawling towards the door.
There was a sound of dogs barking in the distance, and Lu Baoyou's shadow twisted into a strange shape on the ground.
The mountain wind blew a dead leaf, which stuck to the wooden board of "Lu's Mother's Tomb", covering the last stroke of the word "Mother".