C1 Mutual Dependence

When Jiang Lingyan returned from the private school, he stood outside the door and looked at the tightly shut firewood gate. The corners of his mouth curled up slightly, as he had expected — his father had not returned home yet. His eyebrows drooped out of habit as he looked up at the sky gloomily. It was getting late! He pushed the door open and walked into the simple house. He turned into an inner room that was separated by a curtain.

In the room that was less than ten square meters, half of the space was taken up by a bamboo bed in the corner. A small table was placed under the only window in the south wall, and there was a small stool on the small table. Ling Yan spent most of his time on it, except for listening to the teacher's lecture in his private school — this was probably the typical cold window reading!

The outer room was about the same size as the inner room, and the first thing he entered was a stove made of mud and stone, next to which was placed a cupboard, black with smoke. In front of the cupboard was a small square table, and under the table were two small stools, in addition to the household essentials, there was a wall made of mud and stone, and on the wall, of course, were some bits and pieces.

Ling Yan put down his learning equipment on the small and long table, turned around and went to the outer room, opened the cupboard's door, and skillfully picked up rice and cooked.

Looking at the flames within the wok, Ling Yan couldn't help but smile as he recalled his mother's facial features. This seemed to become a habit, as he would often think of his mother in front of the wok.

His mother had left home when he was six years old. He didn't know where she had gone to, but when he asked his father about it, his father would always stay silent. Every time he asked his father, it would always hurt his mind.

The day before, he had been playing with his father and mother in the bright and spacious house, where his grandfather had just bought him a top. However, when he woke up the next day, his mother was still in this unfamiliar thatched hut, lying on the bed. At that time, his mother was still here, but a few days later, his father was the only one who could accompany him.

He was studying in a private school, and his father would work when he had work to do. When he had no work to do, he would go up the mountain and chop firewood to sell in the city, but he would not earn much, but he would earn enough money to save up his surplus money. His father said that he would need it when he went to the capital to take his exams. Some said that the matchmaker had advised him to continue staying in the house, but his father had refused. He said that he would need to spend money, and in the future, he would open his mouth to eat more. At the same time, he was worried that his stepmother would treat him badly.

Even though Ling Yan was young, he knew from his father's words that his father would never forget his mother, and that whatever he said to others was just an excuse. No matter what his father did, his son would always be the first, and he wouldn't be allowed to do anything except work at home for his father.

Looking at his father who was still in his forties, Ling Yan felt helpless. He could only concentrate on his studies, hoping that he would be able to live up to his father's expectations.

The aroma of food assaulted Ling Yan's nostrils as he snapped out of his daze and hurriedly withdrew from the firewood he had subconsciously added to the stove. After finishing his work, he looked outside and saw that it was already dark outside.

He turned his head to look at the corner. There was no knife and belt, indicating that his father had gone up the mountain in the afternoon to chop wood instead of work. He was even more worried now that he had gone to the city to sell firewood in the morning and couldn't catch up in the afternoon.

He walked out of the door and looked at the distant shadow of the mountain. He looked back at the village behind him and hesitated. Then, he gave up on calling for help and ran up the mountain — he was already panting heavily and sweating profusely at the foot of the mountain.

At this time, the moon was almost full in October. When the moon was rising, a faint mountain path could be seen. The surroundings were silent, the gentle breeze blowing by, the leaves of the trees and grass swaying. Ling Yan couldn't help but feel a little panicked, but his father's safety had completely forgotten everything. He rested for a moment, then rushed upwards — —

"Father!" "Father!" The echoes resounded throughout the cove, loud and shrill in this hazy gray world. After calling for an hour, Ling Yan still hadn't found anything. He didn't know where his father usually chopped firewood, so he could only call out to him as he walked, hoping to get a response from him.

The bright moon in the sky, the moonlight shining down, the surrounding whiteness, the clarity wasn't very high, but one could see ten meters close, surrounded by trees of all sizes. In between the gaps, Ling Yan could faintly make out something in his throat, and was at a loss as he continued to climb upwards with his heavy legs —

"Father — —" Before the shout even died away, a thought flashed through his mind, there were branches of firewood at the bottom of the mountain, it was impossible for his father to climb up the mountain to chop firewood, even if there was an accident at the foot of the mountain. He understood, so he turned around and descended the mountain.

At the foot of the mountain, fifty meters above the ground, they began a horizontal search. Climbing up the mountain and following a small path was not an easy task. Although the father and son's residence was not far from the mountain, under his father's explicit prohibition, Ling Yan rarely came to the mountain to play. He was usually lacking in physical labor, and his body was weak and frail.

Thorny rattans were scattered among the bushes on the hillside. Ling Yan occasionally tripped over the rattan or was cut by thorns, and his clothes were cut until his skin and flesh were cut off. Resisting the pain, he called out to his father. He did not know how his father was doing, and although he was anxious, he still had a glimmer of hope: that his father would not be able to return home in time to help others; that his father had delayed his return by chopping firewood; that he was now anxiously searching for him at home.

Ever since he could remember, his father had never worried him, not to mention that he had come home late at night. Furthermore, his father had very few friends, rarely interacted with others, and the possibility of him going to someone else's house to help was very slim. Ling Yan did not dare to think any further.

Under the dim moonlight, Ling Yan tried his best to search the surroundings for any suspicious signs. At this moment, he was hungry and tired, and his legs were aching uncontrollably. However, he kept repeating in his heart: "Daddy can't get hurt, Daddy can't get hurt!" Ling Yan couldn't imagine what he would do if something happened to his father. He had lost his mother when he was young, and his father had single-handedly brought him up. He remembered all the hardships his father had gone through to be a son, and he still hadn't returned the favor.

Passing through the cove, Ling Yan spotted a slope not far ahead. On the surface of the slope, there were branches, grassroots and some new soil. It was obvious that there was something heavy slipping down there. Not being able to think much of it, he ran in a few steps and jumped down the slope. When he reached the bottom of the slope and saw his father lying motionless on his side, he picked up his father and reached for his breath. His heart skipped a beat as he looked around, and a problem appeared – how could he carry his father on his back with his frail body?

Lowering his head to look at his father's face, which was covered in scars and stubble, Ling Yan knew that his father had been lying there for at least four hours. He could no longer suppress the grief and helplessness in his heart as tears welled up in his eyes. He took off his jacket and put it on his father. He struggled to carry his father onto his back, and after a moment, he realized that his father wasn't as heavy as he thought he would be, and then he realized that although his father was a big man, he had been exhausted over the years.

He carried his father on his back to the foot of the mountain for an hour. During that time, he fell three times, and every time he fell, Ling Yan would try his best to keep his father from getting injured.

It took Ling Yan a quarter of an hour to reach his destination from home to the foot of the mountain. It took him nearly two hours to carry his father back, almost two hours.

He laid his father down on the bed and staggered to the stove to scoop up the rice that had long since cooled down and wash the water in the wok. Although Ling Yan was young, he knew that his father had to warm up after being frozen on the mountain for four hours. Wiping his body with hot water was the best method.

He wiped his father's body and changed into a clean set of clothes. Then he boiled two bowls of porridge and fed his father half a bowl of porridge. He gulped down a bowl of porridge and went to bed. He knew that his father's life would be fine. Since he had just finished half a bowl of porridge, Ling Yan's heart had dropped to the floor. He felt relaxed, and his body had almost collapsed.

After an unknown period of time, he was awoken by a loud noise. Ling Yan quickly got up, and when he opened his eyes, he saw his father's puzzled eyes. He couldn't help but exclaim in delight, "Father, you're awake!"

Zhang Yang laughed out loud and said, "Alright, I got it! I got it! I got it!" Zhang Yang laughed out loud and said, "It's not that I don't want to be involved, it's just that I don't want to be involved in such matters."