Chapter 18: What’s Wrong with Your Father?

Ano de 1979: Comendo carne com esposa e filhos Fogo dos Espíritos da Vila 2501 words 2026-08-04 09:16:07

“Xiao Lin, don’t you know how to knock? Can you try to change that terrible habit after all these years?”

Li Xiangdong stepped forward, pulled Xiang Lin behind him, and grasped the copper ring on the door. He knocked twice with a moderate rhythm. Hearing no response from inside, he knocked three more times.

“Coming, coming! Who is it?”

A hurried voice tinged with caution, and the gate slowly opened.

A gaunt young man peeked out sideways, then flung the door wide open and hurled curses, “Xiang Lin, you little bastard! No need to guess—I know it was you banging on the door just now!”

This lean youth was Li Xiangdong’s childhood friend, A Zhe, whose full name was Shi Zhengzhe.

After cursing, A Zhe stepped forward and bumped fists with Li Xiangdong and the others one by one.

When it was Xiang Lin’s turn, A Zhe dodged and punched him squarely in the chest.

Xiang Lin rubbed his chest and said, “Was that really necessary? I just knocked, and you react like that.”

A Zhe gave a dry laugh, unsure how to reply, and then asked, “Xiao Lin, why did you shave your head like a prisoner? You didn’t just get out from inside, did you?”

Xiang Lin retorted unhappily, “Cut the nonsense, Zhe, I’m learning barbering from a master now.”

“I’ve told you many times not to call me Zhe!”

“Come on, Zhe sounds nice. It just doesn’t roll off the tongue when A Zhe says it.”

“Doesn’t matter if it sounds awkward—you all have to call me that. My mom called me that since I was little.”

A Zhe’s eyes reddened as he spoke, “I really didn’t expect you guys to still remember to come see me. Thanks, brothers.”

Li Xiangdong stepped forward, hooking his arm around A Zhe’s shoulder. It felt thin and bony, clearly showing the hardships endured over the years.

“Well, well, we didn’t just come to see you—we brought some good stuff. Is your uncle home?”

Hearing Li Xiangdong ask about his father, A Zhe shot Xiang Lin a sharp glance, then said sheepishly, “My dad’s inside. It’s all that guy Xiang Lin’s fault—he scared my dad half to death banging on the door. Xiao Lin, can you learn some manners next time when you come over?”

Xiang Lin clasped his fists in apology, “Brother, I’ll be careful next time.”

“Alright, cut the nonsense. Let me see what good stuff you brought.”

A Zhe walked over to a bucket and looked down at a plump pig’s head inside. His mouth watered, and he hastily swallowed a few times, then smiled warmly, inviting, “Come on, follow me into the courtyard. Welcome to my humble abode, brothers.”

“Why pretend to be all cultured? ‘Welcome to my humble abode’—do you even know how to write those four words?”

“Dongzi is right. A Zhe, don’t be shy to admit it. Even though your dad’s a university teacher, we’re all the same. When we were in school, classes were suspended, and now we’re all semi-illiterate.”

---

“Hey, don’t touch me! Be careful not to spill the wine in the teacup.”

“No wonder there’s a smell of alcohol—it turns out the teacup is filled with wine!”

The men laughed and joked, the earlier distance between them gradually melting away as they nudged each other into the courtyard.

A Zhe’s father, hearing their laughter, came out from inside.

“So, it’s you young lads here to see A Zhe? You play, I’ll go back and read a bit.”

Li Xiangdong and the others barely recognized him as he entered the east wing room.

When A Zhe’s father taught at the university, he was vigorous and upright, but since A Zhe’s mother left, he had become somewhat dispirited.

Now, his hair was grey and white, his back hunched, and his steps unsteady.

Though only in his forties, he looked like a man in his sixties.

“This…”

Li Xiangdong wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

“It’s fine, don’t mind my dad. Let’s hurry up—I’m starving.”

A Zhe cheered up the mood, urging everyone to start.

Li Xiangdong and the others sighed and got to work.

Qian Bin peeked into the kitchen and said, “A Zhe’s pots are a bit small. We can manage with the bucket for now, but his stove is just one burner, which will take a long time.”

A Zhe pointed to a pile of bricks in the corner, “There are some bricks over there. If that won’t work, we can build a stove and take it down afterward.”

“That’ll do.”

Li Xiangdong carefully put down the teacup and followed them over to start sorting the bricks. They found wood for the fire as well.

Under Qian Bin’s guidance, the stove was built smoothly.

Li Xiangdong contributed matches. After lighting some scrap paper and kindling, the fire caught, and the group stepped back, leaving the rest to Qian Bin.

Li Xiangdong, along with two others, followed A Zhe into the main room.

“Wow, this room is pretty spacious.”

The main room was nearly empty, with only a few pieces of furniture. Speaking loudly caused an echo.

---

A Zhe invited them to the table, pulled out a long bench from under it, took out several cups, and poured hot water from a thermos.

“We’re out of tea leaves at home, so brothers will have to drink plain water.”

“No matter what, it’s all the same.”

Li Xiangdong pulled out his cigarette pack and handed each a stick.

After lighting his own, his gaze swept over the square stools placed behind the door. A jolt ran through him as he walked over to pick one up.

Made of rosewood, the carved patterns were exactly the same as on the table at his own home!

Damn it, could that rosewood table at his place actually be from A Zhe’s family?

But the timelines didn’t add up—when his grandfather found that table, A Zhe’s family hadn’t yet fallen on hard times.

He asked, “A Zhe, where did these square stools come from?”

A Zhe glanced at them indifferently. “The neighborhood committee brought them. Our original furniture was confiscated long ago and can’t be found. The records are gone, too. What’s left in the house now are all pulled together from the committee’s storage.”

Hearing this, Li Xiangdong breathed a sigh of relief. If these were truly A Zhe’s family’s things, he’d feel bad not returning them.

A Zhe continued, “If you hadn’t asked, I’d have forgotten. My dad’s still a bit paranoid. He says these are old rosewood pieces, and he worries they might cause trouble, so he told me to get rid of them. But this saves me the hassle—just leave them in the yard for Qian Bin to use as firewood.”

Damn!

Burning old rosewood furniture to cook pig’s head—this was just like his nephew Li Xiaojiang. Such a waste of good things!

He was worried if his own stomach could handle it after eating.

Li Xiangdong hurriedly stopped him, “Don’t ruin those things. If you don’t want them, I’ll take them home tonight.”

Curious, A Zhe asked, “Dongzi, what do you want them for? Although my dad says these stools are old rosewood, he also says they’re worthless now.”

“I know. I just simply like them. Nothing else.”

Li Xiangdong was well aware these items had no market value now; otherwise, he wouldn’t have dared ask.

A Zhe shrugged, “If you like them, take them. Anyway, my dad won’t allow these things in the house.”

Hearing A Zhe agree, Li Xiangdong cherished the stools for a moment, then sat back down at the table. He tugged A Zhe’s arm and quietly asked, “How did your dad end up like this?”