Side Story Eight
—
Chen Yao wrapped his arms around Lin Nan’s waist, burying his face near her shoulder blade.
He didn’t say a word, just trembled slightly, and Lin Nan quickly picked up on it. She reached out to gently stroke his hair, murmuring soothing words.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.”
Her eyes were full of compassion, but life and d*ath were out of her control, so all she could do was comfort her husband as best as she could.
This was the first time she had seen Chen Yao like this since they met.
When his grandfather passed away in middle school, he had cried, and he could briefly numb himself with alcohol, but now, he just trembled silently, using his wife’s shoulder as a support.
To Lin Nan, he had always seemed reliable and safe—truly the perfect pillar for their family.
“Can I handle everything for the next few days?” Lin Nan placed her chin on top of Chen Yao’s head, smelling the faint sweat from his hair, trying to calm him down with her words.
“Should we head back to the countryside now? Maybe we can still catch a last glimpse of grandpa,” she said softly, her heart aching.
But Chen Yao just shook his head, his shoulders shaking even more violently.
“How about a drink? A nice meal?” Lin Nan suggested, as if coaxing a child.
Yet this time, Chen Yao didn’t respond at all; he simply held onto her tighter.
Lin Nan glanced helplessly at the pot on the stove, the stir-fried vegetables now threatening to burn.
Turning off the gas, she gently rose on her toes to make his embrace more comfortable, then pressed his head lightly against her chest as they silently snuggled together.
Chen Jing wandered into the dining room and spotted his parents huddled together in the kitchen.
After a moment of frozen surprise, he hesitated, unsure if he should go comfort his dad with his mom or just quietly slip away to give them some alone time.
Eh, I’ll just leave, he thought.
He scratched his head, feeling that if he approached now, he’d just be an enormous light bulb.
But man, he was hungry…
Chen Jing didn’t spend much time with his great-grandfather, so the news of his passing didn’t leave a big impression on him; it just felt like he was being force-fed a whole lot of dog food.
He dashed upstairs, terrified of interrupting his parents’ moment.
It wasn’t until about ten minutes later that Chen Yao finally lifted his weary head.
His eyes were red but there were no tears; he managed a weak smile at Lin Nan and reached out to mess up her hair.
Lin Nan promptly swatted his hand away, channeling her inner head of the household: “Okay, I’ll take care of grandpa’s matters. You just need to rest and sort out your emotions for the next few days.”
“If you feel like drinking or smoking, your son has already bought some stuff. And if you’re in the mood for seafood, the delivery person should arrive any minute now.”
“Now! You go play some games!” She nudged Chen Yao’s shoulder to steer him out of the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll play games with you to help you relax! I won’t cook today, we’re ordering takeout!”
“I’m not in the mood to play games,” Chen Yao’s voice was hoarse. “We’re going back tomorrow, so no drinking for me.”
“It’s fine! Playing games will help distract you from all the grandpa thoughts swirling in your head.”
Lin Nan pulled him to the sofa, picked up the game controller, but when she looked back, she found Chen Yao still staring blankly.
Her heart ached again, and she felt a sting in her nose.
She bit her lip, wanting to be Chen Yao’s rock, but seeing him like this was just too heartbreaking.
She reached out her hands, grasping Chen Yao’s firmly, hoping it would soothe her husband.
Chen Jing, who usually loves to make a scene, was nowhere in sight! Doesn’t he know dad’s in a bad mood? Why isn’t he clowning around to cheer him up? Or at least come to comfort him?
Having a kid seems to be utterly pointless at times!
If this keeps up, I might burst into tears myself, and that would only make Chen Yao feel worse!
Lin Nan took a deep breath and firmly gripped Chen Yao’s shoulders, pushing his upper body down gently.
Chen Yao didn’t resist and simply toppled onto the sofa, resting his head in Lin Nan’s lap.
“If you’re not gonna play games, how about a nap?” Lin Nan gazed down at him, one hand grasping his arm and the other softly stroking his hair.
Chen Yao gave a weary smile. “Thanks for doing all this.”
“Why are you thanking me? We’ve been married for how many years?” Lin Nan almost lost control of her tears and quickly looked up to stop them from spilling over.
After a moment, she lowered her gaze once more, biting her lip as she looked at Chen Yao’s exhausted expression, struggling to find the right words.
Finally, she sighed deeply and pulled him into her embrace again.
—
A few days later, Chen Yao, dressed in a plain white vest with a white cloth tied around his waist, walked expressionlessly at the front of a crowd.
Lin Nan and Chen Jing were similarly attired, following closely behind him while a procession of coffins, surrounded by various funeral supplies, led the way.
Today was the day of the funeral.
Chen Yao hadn’t shown a single smile for days—only managed a faint one when he saw Lin Nan.
Since the day after they got the news of grandpa’s passing, he’d returned to the countryside to organize the funeral.
He kept up a calm exterior, but the calmer he was, the more Lin Nan worried about how he really felt.
After a moment’s wait, at his uncle’s gesture, Chen Yao stepped forward with his family.
In front of the coffin, a few soft cushions were laid out. The three kneeling members of the family gently bowed their heads toward the deceased elder before joining the onlookers.
Lin Nan had never bowed her head to anyone in her modern life, but surprisingly she found the act of doing so in front of the deceased quite acceptable.
“Honey, make sure you get a good night’s sleep once we’re home,” she gently took Chen Yao’s hand, softly instructing him. “Take some sleeping pills. Tomorrow… tomorrow, can you take another day off?”
“No need,” Chen Yao shook his head. “If I take off again, my boss won’t allow it, and we’re in a rush to finish this project. They need me.”
Chen Yao’s once fiery hands felt ice-cold now; in just a few days, he seemed to have aged seven or eight years, with a few strands of gray hair sprouting on his head.
Lin Nan felt a pang of sympathy as she tiptoed, gently plucking the gray hairs from behind Chen Yao’s ears.
“Should I get you some hair dye? Having too much gray makes you look older.”
“Sure.” He nodded, but then noticed his uncle waving at him and temporarily left Lin Nan to walk toward him.
Being the oldest grandson of his grandfather, Chen Yao had to take on many responsibilities, and during the funeral, he held an important position aside from the uncles.
After he left, Lin Nan raised her head and looked at her son, who was half a head taller than her: “Chen Jing, you need to cheer your dad up whenever you can.”
Chen Jing nodded understandingly.
Lin Nan thought that if Chen Jing could just give Chen Yao a little nudge, maybe her husband could vent some of his pent-up emotions.
