The sludge near Sun Jingcheng’s company was too deep and being cleared, so temporarily he couldn’t go to work. These past two days he’d been clearing sludge in front of the clinic. Not only him—everyone along the street and sanitation workers were clearing it too.

It was summer—if not cleaned up promptly, bacteria could easily breed.

Sun Youping was also worried. After major flooding came easy epidemics. He only hoped no new outbreaks would occur. The clinic disinfected several times a day, spraying upstairs, spraying in front of the door and on the road. He constantly reminded the children absolutely not to drink unboiled water. These days the family all drank boxed mineral water.

Normally Sun Jingcheng would never do this kind of work. He was very careful about maintaining his hands. From when he started playing piano, his teacher had warned him about the importance of hands. At his most delicate, Mother Sun wouldn’t even let him carry things. Though his sisters pursed their lips, they still cooperated in not letting him carry heavy objects. But this was a special period—even Ke Yu and Sun Jiaxing weren’t idle, coming to the street to help where they could.

While busy, Sun Jingfei came over and stood there. After standing for quite a while without speaking, he straightened his back and asked her, “Say what you need to say.”

Sun Jingfei looked toward Ke Yu shoveling sludge on the other side and said, “Find a chance to explain sexual knowledge to him…” She didn’t finish, just looked at him. “You understand, right?”

…

“You haven’t taught him?” Sun Jingcheng was speechless. “He’s almost sixteen?”

“Ke Yong gave him a book to figure out himself, didn’t discuss it in detail.” Sun Jingfei said, “You talk to him about it. I can’t bring myself to.”

“Why are you suddenly having me talk about this?”

Sun Jingfei scratched her nose. “He’s been washing his underwear too frequently lately.”

…

While they were talking, Eldest Sister-in-law came back from work by taxi. Sun Youping had told her to take taxis to and from work for now, wait a few more days before taking the subway. Sun Jingfei followed Eldest Sister-in-law upstairs, instructing him, “Dinner’s almost ready. Come up after you finish up a bit more.”

Sun Jingcheng put away his tools and returned to the clinic. He’d been busy for two hours—his old back was exhausted and bent. Those two saw him stop work and followed behind ready to return too. Sun Jingcheng turned around and chased them back. “Don’t you understand respecting elders and caring for the young? How old am I, how old are you?”

After going upstairs to wash his hands and sit down, he hummed comfortably—time spares no one! Then he took photos of all the calluses and four blisters on his hands and sent them to Zhou Yu.

These past two days Zhou Yu had been staying at the family compound. He’d been sleeping on the sofa at the clinic. Neither the wedding house nor the new district had power restored yet.

Sun Jingfei brought dishes from the kitchen to the table, asking him, “Where are those two?”

Sun Jingcheng closed his eyes to rest. “Young people—let them work a bit more.”

“You’re the most precious.” Sun Jingfei went downstairs to call them for dinner.

In the kitchen, Eldest Sister-in-law and Mother Sun chatted, asking what time Lin Jing’s surgery was tomorrow. Mother Sun told her to just go to work—coming after work wouldn’t be late.

Sun Jingcheng listened to their conversation voices with closed eyes, just spacing out when Zhou Yu sent him a WeChat—two small dishes just cooked.

He was replying to the message when the children came back like a flock of chickens returning to the coop in the evening—clucking and cackling. He leaned to the side, trying to avoid these noisy sounds.

Over there the children could start arguing even while washing hands in the bathroom. One finished washing without drying, flicked toward his face, splashing him with hand-washing water all over.

He continued calmly replying to messages: “I’m about to be tormented to death these past two days.”

[My brain is completely muddled. Buzzing buzzing buzzing—buzzing buzzing buzzing—]

[Let’s just have one child.]

[Just one!]

After sending, he called to Mother Sun passing by, from the bottom of his heart, “Mom.”

“What?” Mother Sun looked at him.

“You’ve worked hard.”

…

“What’s wrong with you.” Mother Sun urged him, “Hurry to the table.”

Over there Sun Youping also came up. Everyone took their seats in order. Sun Jingfei continued the earlier topic, saying the latest statistics showed about fifty casualties. Mother Sun worried, saying how sad those people’s parents, wives, and children must be. Not a single life came from nowhere—none were independent, all had to depend on each other to survive. Saying this, she thought of Eldest again, put down her chopsticks and said, “Let’s say a prayer for all the departed souls.”

Sun Youping put down his chopsticks. Sun Jingcheng also put down his chopsticks… The adults all put down their chopsticks with solemn faces and closed their eyes. Naturally the children followed suit. Though not knowing what to pray for, they all quietly maintained silence.

After praying, they continued eating, talking about this rare rainstorm. Mother Sun wasn’t surprised, saying this wasn’t the first time. How many years ago in Zhumadian it was more severe—about twenty thousand died? That was when she’d just gotten married.

Sun Youping joined in, “Married for a year.”

“Back then over sixty reservoirs collapsed and burst… the entire Zhumadian was flooded, at least several million people affected, right?” Mother Sun looked toward Sun Youping.

“Yes.” Sun Youping said, “The Beijing-Guangzhou rail line was washed away. To this day it remains the world’s largest dam collapse tragedy.”

“Why do I remember it so clearly? Because a distant relative of ours married over there the year it happened. About twenty years later, her household head sold blood and got AIDS, and eventually the whole family got AIDS.” Mother Sun said with a sigh, “It seems their whole village got AIDS, so her maternal family here wouldn’t let them come back.”

“Why did they sell blood?” Ke Yu asked.

“Too poor! Unless absolutely forced, who would sell blood?” Mother Sun said, “Everyone blamed them for selling blood, blamed them for being poor. But no one asked why they were poor. If you ask me, fundamentally it was because that major rainstorm’s losses were too catastrophic.”

“It seems a writer wrote a book? About AIDS, using today’s professional terminology it’s called… what… what projection?”

“Allegory?”

“Fact and fiction all mixed up, hard to distinguish. That writer was from our province, called… called what again? Anyway, not much younger than me.”

“Yan Lianke’s ‘Dream of Ding Village’?” Sun Jingcheng said, “He seems to be from Luoyang.”

“I don’t know exactly where from, only know he’s from our province.”

Sun Jingcheng asked Ke Yu, “Do you know the provincial writer Yan Lianke?”

Ke Yu hesitated, then shook his head.

“Do you know Liu Zhenyun?”

Ke Yu also hesitated—seemed to have some impression.

“Then you know Eryue He, right?” This time Sun Youping asked.

Ke Yu shook his head. Didn’t know.

“You’ve seen ‘Emperor Kangxi,’ right?” Sun Youping cleared his throat. “I really want to live another five hundred years—”

Hahaha. Laughter erupted at the dinner table.

Sun Youping instantly stopped singing and became serious again.

“Dad, Eryue He is from Shanxi.” Sun Jingcheng corrected him.

“He’s a Nanyang writer.”

“He is indeed a Nanyang writer, but his ancestral home is Shanxi.”

Sun Youping didn’t respond to him.

“Stop arguing. Whatever your dad says goes. He used to be Eryue He’s number one fan!” Mother Sun said.

Eldest Sister-in-law chimed in, “The writers Fourth mentioned are all from our generation. Yuyi would know them. The younger ones probably don’t know much…”

“They should learn about them later, look at what happened on this land beneath their feet. Can’t be asked three questions and know nothing.” Sun Youping said slowly.

“Alright, Grandpa.” Ke Yu agreed.

While chatting, the TV was broadcasting the disaster caused by this rainstorm—how many had died so far, how many were missing, how many houses collapsed, how many crops were damaged, how many people were urgently relocated and resettled… as well as rescue forces from various provinces, and the total donations received by the Zhengzhou Red Cross from all sectors of society so far, accumulated to how many billions.

The whole family sat quietly at the dinner table listening like survivors of a disaster. This meal was eaten extremely slowly, eating and talking. The Chinese medicine was ruined, let it be ruined. The car was soaked, let it be soaked. Compared to the catastrophic losses broadcast on TV, what did their losses amount to? As long as the whole family was safe and sound, safety meant infinite hope.

After dinner, Sun Jingcheng casually mentioned his former blue password notebook—very high-quality, obtained as a prize from a piano competition. Mother Sun heard and went to the inner room to find it for him. Sun Jingcheng was deeply moved—nearly twenty-four years! His old mother still kept it!

Mother Sun said nothing, taking the opportunity to beautify herself. Originally when tidying the room she’d wanted to throw it away, but thinking it might be her son’s beloved object, she carefully preserved it. The truth was she’d wanted to peek inside but could never open it no matter what—she’d even bent the notebook out of shape.

Before receiving the notebook, he would have believed his mother’s words. But after receiving it and seeing it was bent out of shape—he still bravely believed his mother’s words.

Mother Sun then returned to the inner room, took out several pairs of new socks for Ke Yu and Sun Jiaxing to wear after washing their feet. Ke Yu looked at the colors and accepted them. Sun Jiaxing refused to wear them. Won’t wear them, forget it then. That little brat even shouted, “I won’t wear an old man’s socks!”

Mother Sun snatched them back and smacked him on the head with them.

That’s right—these pairs were bought by Sun Jingfei for Sun Youping.

Sun Jingcheng’s head ached from their noise. He prepared to go to the inner room, but upon entering was hit by a fresh foot odor. The innocent children sat on the bed. “What is it, Uncle?”

“What what what! Your mom won’t let you say ‘what,’ your mom wants you to say the civilized word ‘what’?” Mother Sun irritably corrected him.

“Why can’t I say ‘what,’ Grandma?”

“No reason why. Your mom thinks ‘what’ sounds bad, wants you to say ‘what.'”

“But why, Grandma?”

…

Sun Jingcheng was about to faint.

He took the notebook out to the clinic, leaned against the streetlight by the roadside to look. He still remembered the password—unchanging for ten thousand years, his birthday. The notebook opened smoothly. The first page had his full name written powerfully: Sun Jingcheng.

He flipped through page by page, becoming absorbed in reading.

The contents were all concentrated in what he’d written at age fifteen—all the sexual knowledge Eldest Brother had taught him, plus a simple human body diagram with all the various parts clearly labeled.

He looked at the words. In his mind clearly floated Eldest Brother’s voice and smile. He’d awkwardly held a condom, telling him how to use it and why to use it. He’d told him about correct sexual behavior, and that this world also had abnormal sexual behaviors—like rape against a woman’s will, pedophilia, exhibitionism, voyeurism, incest…

He’d taught him basic physiological knowledge, taught him about sexually transmitted diseases, taught him how to respect women. If engaging in unclean sexual behavior, besides bringing harm to oneself—mild cases STDs, severe cases AIDS—it would also bring various gynecological diseases to the partner. When dating women, first respect their wishes. During intercourse, if she says stop, continuing is a crime…

Besides the above sexual knowledge, he also taught him that a man’s greatest charm was being responsible, accountable, and cultivated. Being accountable for one’s own actions, accountable for one’s own feelings, accountable for one’s own family. Having basic emotional cultivation—issues are issues, people are people. Find proper channels to release one’s emotions, don’t take anger out on others…

Sun Jingcheng flipped through a full ten or so pages before finishing. The last two pages were his own summary. He looked at two lines then closed it. Those two lines read: In the future when I meet a girl I love, I will wholeheartedly cherish her, care for her, respect her…

After reading, he couldn’t calm down for a long time. He’d completely forgotten, forgotten completely—forgotten that twenty-three years ago, he had once sat at a desk and sincerely written these words.

He looked toward Ke Yu coming out to dump garbage and beckoned to him. Ke Yu jogged over. “Uncle.”

Sun Jingcheng gave him the notebook. “Your grandpa taught your eldest uncle, your eldest uncle taught me and your second uncle. Take it and read it.”

“What is it?” Ke Yu prepared to flip through it.

“Read it in your own room.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Keep Uncle company for a walk?”

“Sure.”

Uncle and nephew strolled along the devastated street. Sun Jingcheng asked him, “Guess how your aunt and I met?”

Ke Yu didn’t understand why he was asking this and didn’t speak for a moment.

“We met on a blind date. My first impression of her was gentle and graceful. As we interacted, I discovered she was contradictory, loved sulking by herself. Average personality, not my ideal perfect partner.” Sun Jingcheng said.

“What’s your ideal perfect partner like?” Ke Yu asked.

Sun Jingcheng thought for a while, then shook his head.

“Then why did you marry Aunt at that time?” Ke Yu was puzzled. “You thought her personality was average and she wasn’t your ideal partner.”

“I also find it marvelous.” Sun Jingcheng said reminiscently, “That day after watching a movie with your aunt, on our walk back, in that instant I thought of marriage, wanted to live with her forever and ever, so I proposed.”

“I’ve always believed marriage is against human nature, and still believe so today, but in that moment I still proposed without hesitation.”

Ke Yu digested this for a while, then asked him, “You believe marriage is against human nature, and clearly knew Aunt wasn’t perfect, but still wanted to live with her forever and ever?”

“Right.” Sun Jingcheng nodded.

“Then you must love her.”

“Right.” Sun Jingcheng praised him as teachable.

“Then why do you frequently argue and want divorce?”

“Because back then I was arrogant, didn’t understand love, didn’t know how to express love.” Sun Jingcheng said seriously, “I wronged her.”

“Uncle.” Ke Yu was confused. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“Your mom wants me to teach you sexual knowledge. I think views on romance and marriage are also very necessary to teach you together.” Sun Jingcheng answered honestly.

Ke Yu was first embarrassed, then nodded, accepting it.

Then the two chatted casually. Sun Jingcheng used himself as a negative example, talking to him about many things—how this world fundamentally has no perfect partners; because of his overly self-centered personality, what he’d missed and which people who loved him he’d hurt; telling him before encountering a beautiful love, first establish correct views on romance, be brave in giving, consider the other person more, only then can one properly and lastingly enjoy love.

“Your grandpa once said, no matter how small the sapling, dig a big hole, give it enough space so it can grow deep roots and lush leaves.” Sun Jingcheng looked at him. “This principle applies the same to people.”

As he slowly spoke these words, he also looked back examining his own path step by step, the setbacks he’d encountered, and his relationship with Zhou Yu.

Thinking and thinking, he fell silent and said no more.