Chapter 37.2 – News about Song Xiangping
Novel Title: 一屋暗灯 (Ephemeral Light)
Author：麦香鸡呢 (McChicken)
Translator: K (@kin0monogatari)
Protagonists: 宋谨 (Song Jin -MC), 宋星阑 (Song Xinglan -ML)
*Please read at Novels Space.space, the original site of translation. TQ*
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Life in the countryside was as usual. Winter had not yet passed. Shortly after returning home, Song Jin thoroughly cleaned the house and inadvertently found a small bag of dried bamboo shoots in the kitchen cabinet.
He and Song Xinglan had dug up the bamboo shoots on the mountain last year. They had gathered quite a lot, more than the two of them could eat. So Song Jin had dried them. They could be cooked into a simple dish later.
After the bamboo shoots were boiled, it was Song Xinglan who tore them into pieces for drying. Because it was hard to tear them when they were cold, it had to be done while they were still hot. Xinglan was afraid that Song Jin would burn himself. So he kept him from helping and did it all himself, tearing them with his hands until his fingertips turned red from the heat. When he was done, he came over with a tearful face, asking Song Jin to blow on his fingers.
What a mess.
It seemed like this house was filled with traces and memories of another person. They were both visible and invisible, discovered and undiscovered. Could such profound memories really form in just over two months?
If so, why did that person have to be Song Xinglan?
If not, why was Song Xinglan able to do it?
Song Jin knew the answer in his heart. But the person who once asked him for that answer was no longer around.
Today marked the second week since he returned to the countryside. Everything was as calm as usual. But Song Jin couldn’t help feeling anxious. Every time Song Xinglan appeared, it was without any warning. Song Jin was really afraid that one day he would open the door and see him standing there.
Song Jin couldn’t dwell on the things Song Xinglan said when he was at Tang Min’s house. Nor did he want to think deeply about them, as it was pointless. He just wanted a clean break. Whatever else it was, he didn’t want it.
After all, Song Xinglan would never bring him anything good. There would only be pain and torment.
Song Jin took out the dried bamboo shoots and soaked them in water. Judging by the amount, it was only enough for one dish. As long as he finished eating it, there would be fewer memories of the past.
His phone rang. Song Jin wiped his hands before taking it out of his pocket. It was Yuan Ya calling.
“Ayi?” Song Jin asked, “Is something wrong?”
“Xiao Jin…” Yuan Ya’s voice sounded somewhat disoriented, “I… your father, he contacted me.”
His heart sank suddenly. Song Jin tightened his grip on the phone. “He’s back in the country?”
“He shouldn’t be. Judging by the number, it doesn’t seem like he’s in China.” Yuan Ya sounded like she took a deep breath. Her breathing became a bit hurried. “He… he said that you and your brother teamed up to bring him down, forcing him to hide and run…”
“Xiao Jin, I… I’m worried he might sneak back to the country one day. I’m afraid he might come looking for me…”
“What do you mean by him saying that we teamed up to bring him down?” Song Jin felt a mix of anger and bewilderment. His face grew cold. “He did those things himself. Why is he blaming us?”
“Because he said that the money he wired into the domestic company to repay debts was forced out of him by Xinglan,” Yuan Ya replied.
“What…” Song Jin was momentarily stunned. “Xinglan forced him to wire the money?”
“Yes. He said he went to Toronto to see Xinglan. And Xinglan made him take out the money to cover the company’s debts. He said no wonder Xinglan wanted to separate from him and the company early, even before finishing college—it turns out we were all part of a long-planned scheme.” Yuan Ya coughed a few times. “I don’t know what he meant by calling me. I’m just… I’m very afraid…”
“Switch the phone to your other hand. Your right hand still has the IV drip.”
Suddenly, a stranger’s voice came through on the phone. Then, Song Jin heard Yuan Ya say, “Okay. Thank you, nurse.”
“Ayi, are you in the hospital?” Song Jin frowned and asked, “What’s happened?”
“Since Song Xiangping called me a few days ago, I haven’t been eating much. And I’ve been busy grading papers for the start-of-term exam these past two days, so I haven’t been resting well. My stomach ulcer has flared up again.” Yuan Ya seemed to have taken a sip of water and said, “It’s an old problem. But it’s especially serious this time, so I took a leave of absence to have a minimally invasive surgery. I just had the surgery last night.”
“But I had a dream this morning. I dreamed that Song Xiangping came to me. When I woke up, I felt so scared that I couldn’t help but call you. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
“But I don’t know who else to talk to… Xiao Jin, I’m really afraid that he’ll come back to China one day suddenly. I can’t take it anymore if he hurts me again…”
Song Jin unplugged the rice cooker and asked as he walked towards the bedroom, “Which hospital are you in?”
“No, no. No need.” Yuan Ya said, “You don’t have to come over. It’s just this matter, I want you and Xinglan to help me think of what to do. I can’t come up with a solution myself. I’m too scared.”
“Even if he really comes back, you shouldn’t face it alone,” Song Jin said calmly, “Ayi, don’t worry. He’s only been out of the country for a few months. He won’t dare to come back before things die down. Your health is the most important thing right now.”
He went into the room and got his coat, asking again, “Which hospital are you at?”
Yuan Ya didn’t refuse any longer and said, “The Second Hospital.”
“Okay. I’m coming over now.”
“Then be careful on the road.”
Song Jin refilled Grapefruit’s cat food bowl. It wasn’t even noon yet. He was planning to borrow a car so that it would be convenient to come back at night.
He closed the door and opened the gate while dialling the villager’s phone. But he stopped in his tracks before he could even take a step out.
A black-grey DBS was parked by the side of the road. Song Xinglan was wearing an extremely simple black cotton jacket, standing by the side of the car smoking. When he heard the door open, he looked up at Song Jin and then took the cigarette out of his mouth.
That was indeed a very young and handsome face. The youthful air had not yet completely faded. But the calm and indifferent expression and the skillful smoking movements added a few touches of maturity that were just right for the occasion. It was as if he was in the midst of a subtle transformation process, possessing both youthful innocence and mature sophistication. It was impossible to describe precisely. But it was blended just right.
The phone call had already gone through. The villager asked Song Jin what was up.
Song Jin knew that since Song Xinglan was here, he had no choice but to get in his car today.
“Nothing. I was thinking of borrowing your car. But I don’t need it anymore,” Song Jin said. “Nothing’s up. I’ll hang up now.”
He put his phone back in his pocket and walked down the steps. He didn’t say anything. He just opened the passenger door and got in.
Song Xinglan flicked the cigarette butt to the ground, stepped on it to put it out, and got into the driver’s seat.
The interior of the car was small. Song Xinglan seemed to be wearing perfume. It wasn’t strong or heavy. But it was light and refreshing, mixed with a hint of lingering cigarette smoke. When it wafted over, Song Jin felt like the wind was rushing into his collar, then lingering on his neck, infecting him too.
The car didn’t go fast. This was the second time Song Jin had ridden in Song Xinglan’s car. The first time was more than three years ago, when Song Xinglan was eighteen. It was raining that day, and it was the day before Song Xinglan left the country. Later, Song Jin stood in the rain and watched the video of his own humiliation.
As soon as he thought about these things, about any of the past events, Song Jin would become extremely sober. He was so sober that he wanted to close his eyes and never face the person next to him again.
But there were some things that had to be said. Song Jin turned his gaze back from the car window. He looked at the road ahead and said, “Song Xiangping called Yuan Ya.”
“I know,” Song Xinglan said. “Yuan Ya texted me when I got off the plane.”
“Where is Song Xiangping now?” Song Jin asked.
“He ran away.” Song Xinglan’s hand rested on the steering wheel. His profile showed no particular expression. “He was hiding in a small town near Vancouver. I had people watching him. But he escaped over half a month ago.”
“The money… Did you force him to use it to pay off debts?”
“I would never use my money to pay for him,” Song Xinglan said. “He brought this upon himself, wanting to live a good life abroad. But that’s impossible now.”
Indeed, Song Jin should have realised this earlier. Song Xiangping, such a selfish and hypocritical person, how could he possibly send money back to China to repay debts while on the run? With his character, he wouldn’t care about such things.
The words stuck in Song Jin’s throat. But he couldn’t hold back any longer. He asked, “Was Yuan Ya’s miscarriage related to you?”
Initially, Yuan Ya had told Song Jin she miscarried the day Song Xinglan went abroad. Without any evidence, Song Jin’s first and firm suspicion was Song Xinglan. This doubt had gnawed at him for too long. So he wanted answers.
Song Xinglan inexplicably curved his lips into a mocking smile. He asked Song Jin lightly, but with a tone of certainty, “You’ve always believed it was me?”
Song Jin didn’t respond. He didn’t want to lie. So he could only remain silent in agreement.
“It was Song Xiangping.” Song Xinglan stared ahead. “They were arguing at home before I left for the airport that day. Zhao Hai took me to the airport and was supposed to escort me in. But then Song Xiangping called, saying Yuan Ya had fallen and asked him to come back.”
“A pregnant wife falls down. And the first reaction isn’t to call an ambulance but to send the family driver back. Song Xiangping values his reputation more than anything. Whether Yuan Ya fell or was pushed by him, only they know.”
This selfish and incorrigible father. Perhaps, he could be considered the root cause of all suffering.
Song Xiangping’s consecutive affairs led to divorce. It caused the separation with his young brother and him having to endure his mother’s resentment and accusations day and night. He became insecure and flawed. Meanwhile, the other one endured his father’s domestic violence and abuse. He became cold-blooded and twisted.
Conflict, collision, patching up, healing, tearing apart, severe damage—everything was predetermined from that failed marriage over a decade ago. Every step of the way has been traceable. And he is the most innocent and wretched victim among them.
Song Jin never thought he was at fault. Nor did he feel he deserved this suffering. He knows his many flaws and shortcomings but as an ordinary person, what he has endured over the past decade has been excessive and shouldn’t have been this way.
Suddenly, Song Jin felt exhausted. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep. If time could turn back, perhaps he would have ended his life before being crushed by fate, avoiding all this suffering.
But it was too late. He was shattered. But somehow still hanging on, unable to die and thus suffering even more.
“I should have…” Song Jin leaned back in his chair, turned his head to look out the window. Tears silently fell from the corners of his eyes as he whispered, “I should have followed Mom…”
He stopped speaking there. Song Xinglan turned to look at him. In his unseen gaze, Song Jin moved his lips, silently finishing his sentence alone: “… and died together with her.“
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*Translator’s Note: I wish SXL had heard it but he didn’t… His last words hit me hard. There was a time in my life where I wanted to end things too, you know? Those were very difficult years. In fact, I’m not sure if I have completely recovered from my depression. It comes and goes. It’s like… I closed the door, but it still lingers outside my room. If I make even a small mistake and accidentally let the door open, it will come back inside to get me. You know what I mean? Well, if you know, you know. It’s just like that. So, this story really somewhat impacted me. -K
*GLOSSARY:
In China, hospitals are often named using a numbering system that can include terms like “First Hospital” or “Second Hospital.” This numbering typically indicates the order in which these hospitals were established in a particular city or province, and it can also reflect their rank or status within the local healthcare system. For example:
First Hospital: This is usually the oldest or one of the most prominent hospitals in a city or region. It often has a wide range of medical services and might be affiliated with a major university or medical school.
Second Hospital: This is typically the next hospital established after the first one. It might offer a similar range of services but may not be as large or prestigious as the first hospital.
Next update: -Daily-
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