“Splash… splash…”
Raindrops linked into strings, weaving down from the overcast sky, tapping one by one against the car window.
“Hey, wake up.”
“Huh?”
Feeling a push on his shoulder, Zheng Ziyan heard his father’s voice beside his ear.
“Wake up, we’re almost home.”
“Oh…”
Still groggy, Ziyan took off his eye mask and gazed drowsily out the window.
Outside was pitch black, with only a few bright red characters standing out sharply against the night— Welcome to Haizhou.
“We just arrived in Haizhou…”
Ziyan stretched. The nap he had just taken in the car left his body a bit stiff.
Zheng Ziyan, fourteen years old, had grown up in Antwerp. Today was the first day his father, Zheng Quan, brought him to Haizhou, Xijiang Province in the Flower Country.
“Almost there. Just past the toll station, another ten or so minutes and we’ll be home,” Zheng Quan replied.
Because they were queued at the toll booth, Zheng Quan, driving, had a rare moment to spare a hand and turned to pinch his son’s pale face.
“Huh?”
“Ten years without seeing each other. Have you missed Dad? Once we get home, I’ll make you something delicious.”
“Mm, mm…”
Ziyan had been taken to Antwerp by his mother, Katalina Zweigert, and it had been ten years since then.
If he said he didn’t miss his father, that would definitely be a lie.
But now, Ziyan always felt distant from Zheng Quan, his own father… so distant that he didn’t even know how to talk to him.
Besides…
“Home…?”
Ziyan pulled his phone out from his chest bag. It was 10:30 PM.
They had boarded the plane in Antwerp at ten the previous night, transferred in Dubai, and once arriving at Haizhou International Airport, Ziyan had gotten straight into his father’s car.
Counting it up, he’d been sitting in soft seats like these for nearly twenty hours.
No wonder his butt was sore.
Ziyan shifted his body, but no matter how he moved, he couldn’t find a comfortable sitting position. He gave up trying.
“Will Mom come back?” Ziyan asked his father.
“…”
Zheng Quan’s previously cheerful expression stiffened. He didn’t answer and silently withdrew his hand.
“A place without Mom, is that really home…”
Ziyan muttered quietly. His voice was soft, but the car was so silent that Zheng Quan heard every word clearly.
“…Sigh.”
Zheng Quan pressed his lips together and sighed. Just then, the long queue of cars started moving again. He remained silent and turned to drive.
Ziyan looked out the window, a bit lost in thought.
How to put it? For him, only his mother in Antwerp was truly home, right?
Because that was where his happy memories were.
However, if Ziyan had to find a place that still felt like home, it would probably only be that little house in the Beijing Suburbs.
That tiny place of just over forty square meters— the small nest where the three of them lived— was where Ziyan spent his entire early childhood.
But when he was four, his mother Lina went abroad for work and took Ziyan with her, cutting off his memories of the Flower Country.
As for Haizhou, it was where his father Zheng Quan was dispatched for work, and the apartment he was assigned.
To Ziyan, he didn’t even know what the place looked like, let alone having any “homey” feeling…
“…”
Father and son were silent, time seeming to freeze. The car was quiet, with only the sound of tires on the road and raindrops pattering on the car faintly audible.
The world felt like it had slowed down. After the long silence, Zheng Quan finally drove to the Haizhou City cadre dormitory.
The complex had three buildings, and his home was Unit 2, Apartment 501.
Click.
The sound of the door lock turning wasn’t crisp; it sounded a little rough to Ziyan’s ears.
“We’re home!” Zheng Quan forced a smile.
Ziyan carried his luggage and obediently followed inside. The apartment was small, about sixty square meters, with two bedrooms, a living room, a bathroom, a balcony, and a kitchen.
Zheng Quan pulled out a pair of slippers from the shoe cabinet by the entrance and handed them to Ziyan, then pointed to the smaller bedroom. “Son, this is your room. I’ve prepared everything for you. Let me know if you need anything else; I’ll take you shopping tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
Ziyan scanned the room with its heavy, dark red decor, feeling somewhat distracted.
Too old-fashioned, Ziyan thought quietly.
“You must be hungry, right?” Zheng Quan rolled up his shirt sleeves. “I’ll make you something to eat now.”
With that, Zheng Quan skillfully grabbed two packets of Kang Shi Fu Braised Beef Noodles from a nearby storage cabinet and strode into the kitchen.
Um…
Dad, is this what you meant by ‘something delicious’?