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墨書 Inktalez
It was still the corner by the trash can, but this time instead of turning right, he walked straight ahead.
After passing through a narrow path between two buildings, the first house number that came into view was Grandpa Zhao's home.
Grandpa Zhao's surname was Zhao, and his first name was unknown. During festivals, Yin Mo had seen him with a son who would come back with his wife and children to visit, but for most of the time, he was all alone.
According to Grandpa Zhao, his wife had passed away long ago. He had been living in solitude for decades and had long since gotten used to it.
Yet Yin Mo could never understand why wives seemed to pass away so easily. Was his father’s wife the same? Why, at his age, had he never met her?
He should have called her "Mom," but she never appeared to give him that chance.
Thinking about these things always made Yin Mo a little sad, but he still liked coming to Grandpa Zhao's place because it reminded him that he had a mother; he just didn’t know why he had never met her.
He feared forgetting certain things, just like he always needed to talk to his father. Every time they spoke, he would call him "Dad," even though his father often ignored him. He was afraid that one day he might forget that the person lying in bed was indeed his father.
It was a contradictory topic, but that was the reality; his father was so different from other fathers, and his life was unlike that of his friends.
His homework was assigned by his father, while other friends received theirs from school. At first, Yin Mo longed to play where there were more friends, but over time he realized that he couldn’t quite fit in with them.
They cried easily—falling down made them cry, having toys taken away made them cry, not getting delicious lollipops made them cry. Yin Mo didn’t understand why they loved shedding tears so much.
Indeed, there was one time when he couldn’t resist the temptation and bought a lollipop from a convenience store. It was really delicious—extra sweet. But losing a lollipop didn’t seem like a reason to cry.
That time it took him a whole week to slowly eat away at the lollipop, and after that, he never bought another one.
Since then, he also lost interest in playing with those friends.
The journey lay beneath his feet; in just a minute, Yin Mo arrived at Grandpa Zhao's door. He knocked softly and then stood quietly at the entrance waiting.
Soon, an elderly man with white hair came out to open the door for Yin Mo. His face was kind, and the warmth in his eyes revealed a gentle emotion.
“Grandpa,” Yin Mo called softly.
“Hmm, come in quickly,” Grandpa Zhao said, affectionately ruffling Yin Mo's hair.
Grandpa Zhao was a lonely man. Even though he had grown accustomed to it over the decades, familiarity did not mean he was free from feelings of solitude; he had simply become numb to the deep pain that reached into his soul. So when he saw Yin Mo, a child, he felt a surge of happiness.
He had met Yin Mo's father once. Beneath the long hair and tangled beard was supposed to be a clean, youthful face, but whatever story had unfolded had transformed him into the person he was now.
Having lived a long life, Grandpa Zhao understood many things clearly. He knew that mere words could not untangle the knots in a young person's heart. Perhaps those knots would never be undone, but that was fate—something no one could change.
What he could do was to take care of Yin Mo whenever he had the time. He had his own grandchildren, but no matter how much he admired them, they were like flowers in a greenhouse—beautiful yet lacking the resilience of those that bloomed in sunshine and storms. Despite their blood ties, Grandpa Zhao found himself preferring Yin Mo just a bit more.
Just like now, when Yin Mo sat upright on the bench, diligently watching the chessboard, Grandpa Zhao felt a sense of satisfaction.
“Yin Mo, when I went out yesterday, I happened to run into Boss from The Grain Shop Downstairs. They were celebrating a wedding and gave me some sweets. You know my blood sugar is a bit high, so why don’t you help Grandpa eat them? Remember to save some for your dad.”
Yin Mo lowered his head to make a move on the chessboard before looking up with a sweet smile on his youthful face. “Thank you, Grandpa.”
He knew that Grandpa had intentionally bought him the candy. The son of Boss from The Grain Shop Downstairs had gotten married just a month ago. Yin Mo understood what marriage meant far better than what Grandpa Zhao thought an ordinary child would comprehend. He didn’t point it out; instead, he accepted it happily.
Sometimes he would help Grandpa Zhao with chores or cook a meal. When preparing food suitable for an elderly person at home, he would bring some over to share with Grandpa Zhao.
“Grandpa, I’m already a general now; you don’t stand a chance! Hehe.”
Yin Mo loved to laugh, but opportunities were few and far between because in the quiet atmosphere at home, he feared disturbing his father.
Grandpa Zhao, upon hearing this, turned his attention back to the chessboard with renewed seriousness. After confirming that he truly had no chance of turning the game around, he couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle. "Yin Mo, you have really made remarkable progress. It used to be that I always won, but now I can't even win a single game. Heroes emerge from youth; Grandpa is getting old."
The two of them laughed together, like old friends despite the age difference, creating a peaceful atmosphere. Time flew by in this serene setting, and before long, it was time for Yin Mo to head home.
After bidding farewell to Grandpa Zhao and taking the bag of candies with him, Yin Mo walked home with steady steps.
In fact, there were already quite a few candies at home, all given to him by Grandpa Zhao under various pretenses. However, Yin Mo had only tasted them once; the rest were carefully stored away.
They were delicious, but he didn't feel the need to eat them all. Having savored them once meant they would forever remain a delightful memory. If he got used to eating them regularly, they would lose their charm, and Yin Mo would feel sad about that.
As he carried the bag of candies and walked along the path home, three boys suddenly appeared in front of him. They looked older than Yin Mo, and two of them were notably plump.
They stood in the middle of the road, blocking Yin Mo's way.
Yin Mo raised an eyebrow, his clear eyes flickering with interest.
"Hey, poor kid! Hand over those candies to our boss right now, or we're going to beat you up," one of them sneered.
Yin Mo was not unfamiliar with these three; they often loitered around the area and liked to bully girls who walked home from school or throw stones at stray cats and dogs.
He disliked them greatly because they seemed inherently unlikable.
"The candies are mine; why should I give them to you? I haven't provoked you in any way. Why do you want to beat me?"
Yin Mo asked two 'whys,' indicating that he wanted to reason with them. His studies had taught him that without reason, there was no justification for actions; he would neither comply nor compromise.
The boy who spoke was momentarily taken aback by Yin Mo's response before his expression darkened. The three of them slowly moved closer to Yin Mo, their lips curling into menacing smiles.
They were selective in their bullying; they wouldn't target someone taller than themselves, nor would they choose those whose parents were wealthy. Instead, they only picked on weaker girls or stray cats and dogs, knowing that if they did something wrong, there would be no one to confront them afterward.
This was a lesson learned from being beaten by their own parents multiple times, so they firmly believed in it. As for Yin Mo, they had investigated him and found that he seemed to have a father, but he was practically nonexistent. His family was so poor that they couldn't even afford to send him to school, and he was younger than most. Naturally, they felt no concern about the consequences of bullying him.
As they approached, the boy who spoke didn't even want to say anything; he simply made a move to push Yin Mo.
In his eyes, the frail Yin Mo wouldn’t be able to withstand even a gentle shove and would surely fall to the ground.
However, when his palm made contact with Yin Mo's chest and he began to exert force, he quickly realized it was not as he expected.
No matter how hard he pushed, Yin Mo stood firm in place as if his feet were nailed to the ground.
The boy furrowed his brow in confusion.
Yin Mo lowered his head and looked at the hand resting on his chest, raising an eyebrow in irritation.
He disliked strangers touching his body, perhaps due to having lived alone for so long.
He thought of the cute dogs that would flee in panic upon seeing these three boys and the beautiful girl who walked home crying like a rain-soaked pear blossom. Suddenly, a flicker of resentment ignited within him.
These people were truly detestable; their smirking faces were more repulsive than the rats scurrying through the hallways.
Thus, with the hand that wasn’t holding a bag, Yin Mo grasped the boy's hand resting on his chest and gently twisted it. A piercing scream erupted from the boy’s throat.
He quickly withdrew his hand, clutching his arm which now felt weak and throbbed with pain. He immediately burst into tears, his cries echoing loudly enough to startle his two companions nearby.
Yin Mo shifted his gaze to them.
They exchanged a glance, then immediately let out a strange cry and turned to flee, even abandoning the robot toy in their hands, not even sparing a glance at the boy who was crying out in pain.
The boy continued to sob, standing there with his eyes closed, as if he had suffered an immense injustice.
Yin Mo shook his head as he passed by the boy, heading home.
He thought to himself that he could never truly play with these friends; they would burst into tears at the slightest provocation. He had merely dislocated his arm, so why such a huge reaction?
The pain he endured while doing homework was far worse than this, yet he had never shed a tear.
Was their school only teaching them how to cry?
A sense of confusion suddenly washed over Yin Mo; he realized that in this matter, he was indeed not as good as they were.
(To be continued)
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