Seventh Year Of Separation chapter 25

Sinking to the Bottom

After Qian Liyun’s death, the family began to handle funeral arrangements. Gu Jianmin immediately assumed the appearance of a good husband, telling everyone about how good their relationship had been, how Qian Liyun had given birth to Gu Jiahe, and how he had worked hard to support the family.

After hearing his words, most relatives and friends would nod, pat his shoulder, and advise him to mourn properly.

But when others brought up the cause of Qian Liyun’s death, Gu Jianmin would put on a furious expression and say, “She was always crazy. Who could tolerate her all these years? Who could have expected something like this to happen in the end…”

Then he would lower his head, sigh heavily, and add, “Ah, let’s not talk about it, she’s gone.”

Gu Jiahe knelt in front of the memorial hall, glaring at him.

He felt that all of this was absurd.

The reason their family had become like this was clearly because of his alcoholism, violence, and infidelity.

Yet in the end, he could easily shift the blame onto a deceased woman. Calling her crazy.

Just because he was still alive, could he casually explain away a deceased person?

Grinding his teeth, Gu Jiahe listened as he continued to speak incessantly in front of others, and suddenly stood up from the rush cushion: “Enough, stop talking nonsense.”

His voice was not light, drawing the attention of the relatives nearby.

Gu Jianmin suddenly turned to stare at him, raising his eyebrows as if signaling something to him.

Completely ignoring him, Gu Jiahe continued, “Was she really crazy? You know the truth.”

In front of everyone, Gu Jianmin clenched his fists, then took a deep breath, “Jiahe, go rest in the room.” Then he forcefully pushed him into the room and closed the door.

Leaning against the door panel, Gu Jiahe heard him explaining to the people outside, “This child has been greatly affected and is speaking nonsense. He’s gone crazy.”

Gu Jiahe grimaced. After Qian Liyun’s departure, was he going to become the second target of madness in the house?

In Pingcheng, there was a custom when handling funeral affairs. If someone passed away, the host family would hire people to come and sing operas and fake cry.

In no time, there was deafening fake crying outside the door, mixed with a few pre-written words of mourning. Gu Jiahe heard a few sentences, seeming to fabricate Qian Liyun’s life. Saying she was plagued by illness her whole life, saying she had a good husband but didn’t enjoy happiness, and died young.

Gu Jiahe felt this matter was as absurd as Gu Jianmin himself.

He forcefully twisted the doorknob, re-entering the living room. The noise outside was extremely loud, but the coffin remained very quiet.

He looked at the thin woman inside the coffin, her skin so pale it had a hint of blue.

He felt she was not scary, but rather pitiful.

On the morning of May 3rd, they would have the funeral and cremation.

On the night of the 2nd, Gu Jianmin asked Gu Jiahe to help pack up her belongings. Gu Jianmin’s exact words were, “Clean up properly, don’t leave anything of hers behind.”

As if this house still had an important use for him, and he wanted to clear away all traces left by Qian Liyun.

After speaking, Gu Jianmin walked out, entertaining the relatives who had come to offer their condolences, leaving Gu Jiahe alone in the house.

Qian Liyun’s belongings were not many, aside from some failed business inventory, there were few items she had bought herself. She even only had two of her favorite lipsticks.

Gu Jiahe carefully folded her clothes into a large package, put her cosmetics into a small pouch, and stuffed them into her favorite coat. In addition, she had a stack of medicine boxes. On them were written “Twice a day, one tablet.”

Gu Jiahe packed up two boxes of clothes and daily necessities, then glanced at their bedside. After a moment of contemplation, he took down the wedding photo on the bedside table and placed it in the box.

Qian Liyun had a drawer for storing some past business receipts. The drawer was not locked, and after Gu Jiahe opened it, he looked through the various receipts, all of which were expired, with blurry handwriting.

However, at the very bottom, there was a neatly folded document, carefully bound with adhesive.

Gu Jiahe opened it and saw that it was an insurance policy from many years ago.

He roughly knew when this policy was purchased. At that time, Qian Liyun was doing business with her girlfriends, and a friend was selling insurance. Qian Liyun was persuaded to buy a life insurance policy. She had wanted to buy one for Gu Jianmin as well, but after she mentioned it to Gu Jianmin when she got home, she was refused.

Gu Jiahe opened the policy, and the beneficiary line listed Gu Jianmin and Gu Jiahe’s names.

As he was about to fold the paper neatly, Gu Jianmin suddenly pushed the door open and returned.

“What do you have in your hand?” Gu Jianmin reached out and took it, glancing at it a few times before taking it away directly. “Let me keep this for you.”

As Gu Jiahe watched him hurry out of the room, he continued to tidy up her drawer. The second layer of the drawer was locked with a small padlock, but it wasn’t fastened tightly. With a gentle push, he opened it easily.

Inside, there were various odds and ends, but tucked to the side was a banknote.

The banknote was clean, and Gu Jiahe picked it up, smoothing it with his fingers. Written on the banknote was a string of numbers: 10.3.

Qian Liyun had a habit of penciling down the purpose of every penny spent. With their tight financial situation, every penny had to be carefully accounted for.

10.3, Gu Jiahe knew what it meant. October 3rd, his birthday. Qian Liyun had intended to use this banknote to buy him a cake.

That day, because of Gu Jianmin, he hadn’t eaten the cake Qian Liyun bought. Now, this banknote had become the only thing she left for herself.

Gu Jiahe held the banknote, feeling a slight pain in his eyes.

“Jiahe! Burn paper money!” came a voice from outside.

Gu Jiahe neatly folded the banknote and put it in his pocket. He absentmindedly opened the door, and outside the family’s door, there was a large bronze basin. Inside, paper money was burning, ashes floating around, and smoke filling the air.

He  walked to the front of the shrine, rubbing his eyes. The smoke made him tear up continuously. He wiped the corners of his eyes with his sleeve, then handed the paper money into the fire, one by one, as they quickly burned along with the flames.

After burning a stack of paper money, his phone rang several times in his pocket. Gu Jiahe took it out and saw that Li Zhao was calling him directly.

He stood up from beside the fire basin, hurriedly answering the phone and walked to the end of the alley, leaving behind all the noise.

The phone rang incessantly, but Gu Jiahe leaned against the wall, took a deep breath, and answered the call.

“Hello?” He tried to control his voice, making himself sound calm.

“Why haven’t you been to school these past two days?” Li Zhao asked him.

Gu Jiahe hesitated for two seconds before saying on the other end of the phone, “Not feeling well, I’ll go tomorrow.”

“Not feeling well? You didn’t get a stomach ache from eating ice cream that day, did you?”

“No,” Gu Jiahe quickly denied. “It’s just a small problem.”

After a few more evasions, he quickly hung up the phone.

As he walked back home, he heard Gu Jianmin also making a phone call outside the door.

He vaguely heard him mentioning a death certificate and insurance money. Gu Jianmin’s tone was very polite, even flattering.

Gu Jiahe guessed that he was probably talking to the insurance company that provided coverage.

“So, as long as there’s a death certificate after cremation, along with identification documents, can the claim be settled?” Gu Jianmin asked over the phone.

Gu Jiahe walked past him, accidentally bumping into Gu Jianmin’s shoulder. Gu Jianmin didn’t notice, fully focused on listening to the conversation on the other end of the line.

He had never seen Gu Jianmin look so serious.

Qian Liyun’s coffin was less than three meters behind him.

Qian Liyun had just passed away less than two days ago, yet he seemed to see Gu Jianmin gnawing on her coffin like a madman.

It was already the afternoon of the 3rd when he returned to school.

The classroom had just finished lunch, and it was a bit noisy. Gu Jiahe sneaked in through the back door and sat down at his seat.

Li Zhao wasn’t there, but there was an open notebook on his own desk. Glancing at it, he saw that it was notes from a mock exam explanation.

He had just picked up the notebook when Li Zhao plopped down beside him.

“I’ve written down the key points of yesterday’s math paper for you,” Li Zhao said.

“Thank you,” Gu Jiahe forced a smile and nodded at him.

Li Zhao playfully nudged him with his elbow. “I told you not to be so serious.”

That afternoon, there was a self-study session. Gu Jiahe sat in his seat, his eyes a bit unfocused. There was no teacher in the classroom, and many people were chatting.

After five minutes, Gu Jiahe suddenly stood up from his seat, opened the classroom back door, and ran out, quickly disappearing.

Li Zhao ran after him and found him at the swimming pool.

But this time, he wasn’t sitting by the poolside. Li Zhao ran into the swimming pool area and only saw ripples on the water surface, with bubbles constantly rising.

“Gu Jiahe!” Li Zhao shouted, and even heard an echo in the empty swimming pool.

Splash—Li Zhao took off his jacket, dived into the pool. Then he saw Gu Jiahe curled up, almost sinking to the bottom of the pool, eyes closed, expressionless.

Li Zhao swam over, grabbed him, and struggled to pull him to the shore.

Gu Jiahe sat on the tiled floor, coughing up water violently, gasping for breath.

Li Zhao was terrified, patting his back, “What are you doing?!”

After a long time, Gu Jiahe’s breathing stabilized. He wiped his face hastily with his hand, then turned to look at Li Zhao, forcing a smile, “I just wanted to try what it feels like before one dies…”

Li Zhao pinched his face, a little angry, “Are you an idiot? Do you know you could really die like this!”

Gu Jiahe just shook his head.

On the bus back to school earlier that day, he remembered a sentence from a book: When a person dies, it’s like water disappearing into water.

But for the young Gu Jiahe, Qian Liyun’s death was more like fire being extinguished in a sea of fire.

Too tragic, unforgettable.

Li Zhao noticed him trembling, picked up his own school jacket from the side, and wrapped it around him. Gu Jiahe looked up, water droplets still clinging to his eyelashes. The water blurred his vision a bit, but Li Zhao’s face was particularly clear.

He couldn’t help reaching out and touching Li Zhao’s skin at the corner of his eye. Then he said the two words Li Zhao hated to hear the most: “Thank you.”

For Gu Jiahe in the years to come, that period of time was like the A and B sides of a cassette tape.

Side A was Li Zhao’s beautiful eyes, lively expressions, while side B was the life he desperately tried to conceal, the embarrassment.

But time wouldn’t flip automatically like an old cassette player, requiring manual flipping to continue playing. It always flipped unexpectedly to the second side when Gu Jiahe was immersed in one side’s happiness.

This made him realize that he couldn’t just enjoy one side’s happiness while ignoring the pain and cost of the other side.