C1 A Place to Return Home

Waking up with a hangover, a headache splitting his skull, and his mouth parched, Chu Jun always found the Spring Festival to be a particularly grueling time, especially on New Year's Eve. Staring at his parents' portraits, their smiles frozen in time, he would drink himself into oblivion, hoping to reunite with them in his dreams.

Struggling to sit up, he reached for a glass of water, but his eyes took in a scene that left him bewildered. He was in his home, yet it was as it had been a decade ago—the single bed, the desk, the orange-hued lampshade, the wooden chair, and his old awards pinned to the wall. These memories, long buried, were now vividly before him.

"Jun!" A woman burst through the door, her face etched with concern as she sat beside him and gently touched his forehead. Her hand was soft, her touch warm. "Thank heavens, your fever's broken. If it hadn't, we'd be off to the hospital!"

Chu Jun stared at his mother, his mind reeling. Aside from looking younger, she was unchanged—her eyes brimming with love, her voice a melody to his ears.

"Jun, what's wrong? Are you still feeling unwell? Your father is so worried he won't even answer his phone!"

"Mom!" Chu Jun looked up at her, his voice instinctively filled with a surge of emotion that left Ma Yan puzzled. "What's wrong? Is something the matter?"

"Nothing!" Chu Jun was in a haze, overwhelmed by the joy of seeing his mother again. He had just pinched his thigh hard enough to confirm this wasn't a dream.

His youthful face stared back at him from the mirror on the desk, a true image of his younger self.

It was clear that the kind of rebirth found only in novels had become his reality. He had returned to his past, to a life with his parents, no longer the lonely orphan he had become.

"Sweetheart, try not to stay up reading so late next time. The college entrance exams are just over fifty days away. You need to take care of yourself and manage your time wisely—that's the real key to efficiency!" Ma Yan wrapped her arms around her son's shoulders, her heart still racing from the morning's scare. She had woken up to find him still in bed, uncharacteristically late to rise.

Upon entering his room, she discovered he was burning up with fever. Thank goodness they had fever-reducing medicine on hand; the thought of what might have happened without it was too dreadful to consider. And where was his father? He'd dashed off to the company early in the morning and was yet to return. If Jun's fever had worsened, she would've been beside herself with worry.

Hearing his mother mention there were only fifty days left until the exams, Chu Jun froze, a cold sweat breaking out as a chill crept up his spine, causing him to shiver involuntarily.

The college entrance exam was a deep-seated fear, a haunting memory that now rushed to the forefront of his mind. His father, Chu Yunhe, had taken his own life during this time, an act that had precipitated a seismic shift in their family life.

"Mom, what's the date today?" Chu Jun's voice shook as he spoke, the tremor in his words betraying his anxiety.

"May 10th! What's the matter? You have a calendar right there on your desk, don't you?" Ma Yan was puzzled by his sudden question but answered him nonetheless.

Chu Jun glanced at his writing desk; the calendar was indeed there, clearly marked with the date: May 10th, 1998.

It hit him like a thunderclap—this was the day he could never forget, the day his father had leaped from the company rooftop, leaving their family in tatters.

He dimly recalled that the tragic news had arrived around noon. He had come home from school to find his mother busy with the cooking when his father's company had called, and their world had come crashing down.

This meant his father was likely to jump from the rooftop in the next few hours.

Chu Jun's mind went blank. No, he couldn't let history repeat itself. He had to stop his father, and with that resolve, he leapt from the bed. "Mom, I need to step out for a bit right now!"

"What are you doing? You just had a fever, you—!" Ma Yan's words were cut short as she watched her son dash down the stairs, a look of helpless concern creasing her brow.

Chu Jun reached his mountain bike, a birthday gift from his dad last month. An 18-speed with a camouflage frame and wheels thicker than most, it could pick up speed with just a twist of the gear shift. He remembered the look of resignation and bitterness in his father's eyes when he had pleaded for the bike, but back then, his own joy had blinded him to his father's feelings.

Now, Chu Jun had the bike in its highest gear, pedaling furiously as he raced from school to his father's company. The storefronts along the street seemed to buzz with activity, all playing Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On," a testament to the Titanic movie's unstoppable craze.

But Chu Jun's mind was singularly focused: find his father and talk him out of suicide. He had to succeed.

Chu Yunhe, Chu Jun's father, owned a toy company. While the headquarters were in the city, the manufacturing plant was in the district below, producing toys for export. The business had been thriving, once making Chu Jun the quintessential rich second-generation kid.

Upon reaching his father's company building, Chu Jun was met with a throng of people, layers deep, surrounding the place. His heart plummeted.

Without a second thought for his new, high-end mountain bike, Chu Jun abandoned it and plunged into the crowd, shouting, "Excuse me, excuse me!"

As he pushed through, his heart heavy, Chu Jun was spared the sight of any gruesome scene below—his father hadn't jumped. The cries for unpaid wages and hard-earned money clued him in; these weren't onlookers but workers from his father's factory, demanding what they were owed. Yet, Chu Jun's anxiety didn't wane.

He understood that it was the workers' siege that had driven his father to the brink, to consider death as penance. Unsure how long the crowd had been there, Chu Jun knew he had to make it upstairs—and fast.

Chu Jun was no stranger to this place; he could practically navigate it with his eyes closed. The security guard at the entrance recognized him and didn't bother to intercept him as he bolted up to the third floor. Bursting into the general manager's office, he found it deserted.

"Where's my dad?" Chu Jun demanded, his eyes red with urgency, as the manager's secretary approached. She was a young woman in her twenties, unremarkable in appearance, but her eyes betrayed a sharp intelligence.

"Director Chu just headed upstairs a moment ago," she informed him.