The Game of Life

Jiang Feng, carrying a fruit basket, followed Zhang Guanghang into the inpatient department.

The fruit basket he had just bought from a small shop outside the hospital cost 268 yuan, while the flower basket was 288 yuan. Flower baskets are for looking only, wilting after a couple of days, but fruit baskets can be both admired and eaten; they can be finished in a day.

Considering Xia Mushi was a pure and unpretentious realist who loved money for its own sake, Jiang Feng weighed his options for a dozen seconds and chose the fruit basket that appeared heaviest.

The two sirs just watched on the side-in their view, buying these things was pointless. It was far more practical to go to the market and buy a couple jin of fish maw and big prawns.

Xia Mushi’s hospital room was on the 19th floor. Zhang Guanghang had been running to the hospital every day these past few days and was now very familiar with its layout. He adeptly led Jiang Feng and two others to the elevator and waited.

One minute later, the elevator doors opened.

A man with a very distinctive Jiang Family build, nearly 1.9 meters tall and brawny, clad in an oversized white lab coat and wearing a mask with thinning hair that made him look like an attending physician, carried a 1.8 meters tall Zhuangshi man out of the elevator as easily as if he were carrying a small chicken.

Jiang Feng and the group, including Zhang Guanghang, stood frozen at the elevator entrance.

Doctors these days… have this style?

The brawny man set down the chicken, and like one who’d narrowly escaped death, the chicken gasped for air. Meanwhile, with a shaking voice that betrayed his lack of confidence, he threatened, “I’m tellingyou, this is illegal. I’m going to make a complaint, I’m going to call the police. You ‘re violently abusing a patient’s family member, I’m going to find a reporter, I’m going to expose your shady hospital!”

Violence? Illegal?” The brawny man smacked the wall with his hand, creating a dull thud, “Sir, you were making a ruckus in the patient’s room just now, seriously disturbing the recovery and rest of other patients. I merely politely asked you to step out. You can check the surveillance footage, you can file a complaint against me, but—”

The brawny man “gently” patted the chicken on the left shoulder, causing him to shiver.

Please first go settle your father’s hospitalization fee.” The brawny man slapped the chicken’s left shoulder again.

The chicken, having endured two unbearable blows, nearly stumbled to the ground, but he stood strong as he had more pressing matters to attend to. “What’s my old man’s hospital bill got to do with me? You quacks just think about money all day, sucking the common people’s hard-earned money dry. My dad was fine when he came in and now you’ve treated him into this state and you still want me to pay? Pah!” In his urgency, the chicken forgot his earlier cowardice, filled with righteous indignation and utterly frustrated. “Brother Weiming?” After watching the scene at the elevator for a while, Jiang Feng called out uncertainly.

This is—little brother? Granduncle Weiming? GRANDUNCLE!!” Jiang Shoucheng was pleasantly surprised, momentarily overlooking the chicken who could’ve starred in a medical drama, “You guys actually came specially to see me!”

Jiang Shoucheng selectively ignored the fruit basket in Jiang Feng’s hand.

We came to see Old Sir Xia.” Jiang Feng said, silently marveling at how his second cousin had become even more Zhuangshi in the few months since he’d last seen him. It was no small feat to find time for fitness activities while interning at a hospital.

“Go ahead, I’ll join you once I’m done with this. Which room is Sir Xia in? Let’s go have dinner together later, granduncle. I’m off tonight and can take you around Beiping City.” In truth, Jiang Shoucheng had no idea who Old Sir Xia was but didn’t care much; flattering was always the right move.

“1901,” Zhang Guanghang said.

Having spotted the two elderly gentlemen, Jiang Shoucheng lost his patience with the chicken. He dragged him away as easily as one would drag a suitcase: I was just reminding you about the payment. I see you’ve been talking so much your throat must be dry, I’ll take you for some tea.”

Such a heartwarming doctor-patient relationship!

Jiang Weiguo glanced at the chicken being dragged away, entered the elevator,

and mumbled, “Another good-for-nothing offspring.”

Jiang Feng: ?

Another?

Xia Mushi’s room was a double, sharing with a 67-year-old Mr. Zhao. His daughter was peeling an apple for him at his bedside, while Xia Mushi had an attendant sitting beside his bed doing the same.

The hospital room was well-equipped, with both older gentlemen watching TV. “Master,” Zhang Guanghang said.

Xia Mushi turned to look at them.

Standing behind Zhang Guanghang, Jiang Feng was startled by Xia Mushi’s appearance but didn’t show it and said, “Hello, Sir Xia.”

Xia Mushi was so emaciated he hardly looked human; his skin was loose, his hands covered in liver spots, and his face so creased it was impossible to count the furrows. His cheeks were sunken, but his gaze was as sharp as a tiger in the twilight of its days.

He truly looked like he was halfway through the gates of hell.

“You go make tea for them,” Xia Mushi told his attendant.

The attendant placed the half-peeled apple down and went to make tea, while Zhang Guanghang deftly continued peeling the apple.

In silence, Jiang Feng placed the fruit basket aside, making room for the two elderly men.

There wasn’t much on the bedside table next to Xia Mushi’s bed, just a transparent glass bowl and a black jar.

The two elderly men approached Xia Mushi, and for a moment, no one spoke, the atmosphere turning somewhat somber.

“Third Young Master, Seventh Young Master, I’m truly sorry. When you returned to Beiping, not only could I not receive you, but you’ve also been troubled to come see me,” Xia Mushi said, his voice hoarse.

The father and daughter in the next bed couldn’t help but look over, the term Young Master” really was too much like something out of a TV drama.

“Xia Sheng, what are you talking about,” Jiang Weiming couldn’t help but laugh, “we’re all old now.”

Xia Sheng was Xia Mushi’s original name, he was bought from human traffickers by Chen Qiusheng, and Xia Mushi was the name given to him by Chen Qiusheng later. At first, Xia Mushi wasn’t used to the three-character name, always forgetting it; whenever someone asked him his name, he just said he was called Xia Sheng.

Xia Mushi was sold to human traffickers by his biological parents when he was 7 years old, and by that time he could already remember things. Xia Mushi remembered that he had five older sisters, he was the son his parents had prayed to the gods and buddhas for, cherished as a treasure. He was named Xia Sheng in hopes that he would grow as robustly as plants and live a healthy life. He still remembered that his parents knelt down and kowtowed to the traffickers, pleading for them to take him without payment, just to feed him so he could survive. When he was sold, the five older sisters who weren’t married had all starved to death, and the fate of those who had married was unknown; his grandparents hung themselves with a rope to leave him food, and his mother was nearly dead from starvation too. While delivering him to the traffickers, his mother kept speaking to him with a weak voice, telling him to be obedient and to survive.

He didn’t know where his hometown was, before Chen Qiusheng bought him, every day he just followed the group, constantly walking. They received one cake each day, and could not fall behind; if someone did, they would be abandoned without even a cake, left to die of hunger.

Before Chen Qiusheng bought him, his life was only darkness.

At first, Chen Qiusheng bought Xia Mushi just to find an older boy to accompany his only son in his studies. Xia Mushi addressed Chen Qjusheng’s only son as “Young Master”, as well as the seven sons of Jiang Chengde. Even after Chen Qiusheng grew fond of Xia Mushi and discovered his culinary talent, adopting him as a foster son and apprentice, Xia Mushi never changed the way’ he addressed Jiang Weiguo and the others.

Xia Mushi originally thought that he had forgotten many things, and Taifeng Building only existed in the first twenty years of his life. Those times were too wonderful, one of the rare periods of colorful brightness in his life, so splendid they even seemed a bit blurry.

But when he saw Jiang Weiguo and Jiang Weiming, the memories he thought were blurry became clear again.

The people from his era, the ones he loved, the ones he hated, most of them were already buried underground; Lord Yama had even started to send minions to capture him, yet he was still stubbornly clinging to this world, not ready to depart. To see old acquaintances before his death, it was worthit!

“You’re old,” Jiang Weiguo sighed.

“I surely am old. If I don’t age, I’d become a monster if I don’t die,” Xia Mushi said, looking at Jiang Feng, “Is that your grandson?”

Yes, out of my four grandsons, only he amounts to something,” Jiang Weiguo said.

I watched his competition, a good kid, a good kid,” Xia Mushi didn’t look anything like the grumpy old man Zhang Guanghang described but more like a warm and kind-hearted elder.

“Taifeng Building… when will it open?” Xia Mushi asked, his eyes shining with excitement.

“It’s going to be sometime soon. You must hold on and not die; Third Uncle and I are still waiting for you to join us for the ribbon-cutting,” Jiang Weiguo said. Jiang Weiming just smiled helplessly.

I will definitely hold on. Even if Lord Yama himself comes, he won’t be able to drag me away!”

The caregiver came back with a kettle of hot water, poured a cup of tea for everyone, and then said to Xia Mushi, “Sir Xia, I won’t disturb you and your friend reminiscing. I’ll sit outside.”

Xia Mushi nodded.

Zhang Guanghang placed the cored apple segments into a glass bowl, took a toothpick from the cabinet, and said, “Master, I’m going to wash the fruits.” Go ahead, also move that jar over there, otherwise, it might get knocked over later,” Xia Mushi said.

111 do it,” Jiang Feng offered, reaching for the jar.

“Ding, obtainedlA Segment of Xia Mushi’s Memory],”

Huh?

Jiang Feng instinctively took another look at the jar in his hand, reminiscent of the urn Liu Xiuzhen was holding in his memory.

After placing the jar safely onto the shelf and making sure it wouldn’t fall, Jiang Feng said, “I’ll go wash the fruits too.”

The three elderly gentlemen were catching up, so it was best not to disturb them as the younger generation.

As soon as Zhang Guanghang stepped out with the apples, an enthusiastic nurse approached asking if he needed help washing the fruits, completely ignoring Jiang Feng behind him.

“No need, I’ll wash them with my friend,” Zhang Guanghang said.

The nurse smiled sweetly, “Mr. Zhang is so thoughtful, even personally washing the fruits!”

Jiang Feng: ???

Is that considered thoughtful? I can even eat it by myself!

“By the way, what was inside that black jar just now?” Jiang Feng asked casually.

“Ashes.”

Jiang Feng paused, his guess was right, and he pressed on, “Whose?”

“I don’t know; for years, my master has kept that jar of ashes by his bedside. It must be from a very important person who has passed away.”