Love's Labyrinth

Chapter 5: Wait for now

In the wind and rain, I took a taxi back to the run-down neighborhood where I had lived for two years. As I got out of the car, I instinctively looked around to see if Betsy's car was parked downstairs.

Fortunately, the car wasn't there, and even more fortunately, I hadn't returned the keys to Betsy. I optimistically thought, "Well, Board Dad is just staying for one night. If she doesn't come back tonight, everything will be fine."

I rushed back to the apartment at my fastest pace, placing my luggage back in its original place and tidying up the bed. With an umbrella in hand, I stood at the bus stop, waiting for Board Dad's arrival.

After about fifteen minutes, a bus departing from the long-distance bus station slowly approached. I craned my neck to see, and sure enough, I spotted Board Dad getting off the bus with a briefcase in hand.

I waved to him and called out, "Board Dad, over here."

Board Dad came over, somewhat surprised, and asked, "Aren't you going to dinner with your colleagues?"

"Dinner is a small matter, but your arrival is a big deal. I know my priorities." I took the briefcase from Board Dad's hand.

Board Dad remained silent and walked with me towards the residential area.

I complained, "Board Dad, this is a business trip at the company's expense. Next time, just take a cab when you come to my place. It's not like it won't be reimbursed!"

"Company funds are still money. Saving a bit is saving." Board Dad spoke sternly.

"Our government has trillions of foreign exchange reserves stored in the United States. Your cab fare won't make a difference!" I retorted.

Board Dad didn't respond, clearly unwilling to engage in a debate on values with me. He had always been like this—never explaining when he believed he was right. It was as if he existed in his independent world, holding the position of deputy director for 15 years.

...

Back in the apartment, Board Dad took out a stainless steel lunchbox from the bag, saying, "This is a wild crucian carp I caught last week. Your mom cooked it for you. Just heat it whenever you want to eat, whether hot or not."

"Let's have it for dinner tonight."

Board Dad looked at me with confusion. "Didn't you already eat with your colleagues?"

"Well, you came, so I cut the dinner short and came back." I quickly changed the topic. "By the way, Board Dad, did my mom make the glutinous rice wine this time?"

Board Dad nodded and took out a bottle from the bag, originally used for orange juice but now containing the glutinous rice wine I liked.

Each of us poured a glass of glutinous rice wine. We ate the cooked crucian carp and peanuts, waiting for the rice porridge to simmer in the rice cooker. We chatted aimlessly, with my mind occasionally wandering and fearing that Betsy might suddenly return. If she did, scaring her wouldn't matter, but revealing my predicament in front of Board Dad would be disastrous.

...

As a cup of glutinous rice wine went down, footsteps were heard outside the door. Subsequently, the sound of keys entering the lock followed. I became a bit flustered, glancing at Board Dad and then at the door, which was just a short distance away.

The door opened, and indeed, Betsy walked in. The scene in front of her made her freeze in place. Board Dad, on the other hand, didn't react much, treating Betsy as someone I shared the apartment with, or perhaps even as a girlfriend.

Without waiting for Betsy to speak, I quickly grabbed her arm and asked with concern, "You've been drinking, right? Let me help you inside... Don't thank me; we're sharing this place, and it's something I should do."

Though I spoke politely, from an angle invisible to Board Dad, I covered Betsy's mouth with my hand and pushed her into her room in a few steps.

"Scum... let go of me!" Betsy struggled and mumbled unclear words.

"Don't shout!" I lowered my voice.

Betsy struggled again, taking out her phone from her pocket. Even a fool could see that she was going to call the police to deal with me. What I did indeed amounted to breaking someone's home.

I snatched the phone from her hand, pushed her onto the bed, and straddled her to prevent further resistance. It was a somewhat thuggish position, but at this point, I couldn't care less.

Lowering my voice nervously, I said, "Stop yelling. If my dad hears, I'm done for!"

Betsy completely ignored me, her expression terrified as she instinctively reached out and tightly grabbed my hair.

It hurt so much that I was on the verge of collapsing. Grimacing, I said through gritted teeth, "Easy, or you'll make me go bald!..."

"Scum..." Betsy mumbled, still struggling.

"I am a scum..." I said with irritation.

Then, in a lower voice, I continued, "But not in my dad's eyes! He has high blood pressure. If he knows I'm broke, without a place to live, he'll be so angry that it might cost him his life... Big sister, endure for one night. He's here on a business trip and will leave tomorrow morning... I promise I won't bother you again!"

Betsy finally stopped struggling, loosening her grip on my hair, but her beautiful eyes still stared at me with hatred and disgust.

I cautiously removed my hand covering her mouth. This time, she didn't scream again.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I spoke with a tone of apology, "I'll let you go. Just pretend this never happened."

As I was about to get up, Betsy suddenly twisted her body and forcefully pushed me. With a "clang," I fell straight off the bed.

"Adrian Sterling, what are you doing inside?" Board Dad heard the commotion and asked.

I endured the pain and said, "Bumped into the cabinet..."

Board Dad didn't press further, and Betsy finally emerged from her room. In a seemingly smiling yet resentful expression, she looked at me.

"I warn you not to speak nonsense! My dad has high blood pressure, and can't stand shocks, and if he hears about my situation, I'll be done for!" I pleaded with Betsy.

Whether she agreed or not, Betsy remained silent. I could only comfort myself by assuming she had tacitly consented. I looked at her with another plea, and this time, she still didn't speak. I had to assume that she had agreed. I made a grateful gesture and reluctantly looked away, heading toward the door.

...

Returning to the living room, Board Dad had already gone to the kitchen to ladle out three bowls of rice porridge. He said to me, "Adrian Sterling, go take a bowl of porridge to that girl. Drinking alcohol requires eating something. Don't let her go hungry."

"Let her rest."

As soon as I spoke, Betsy came out of her room, holding a handbag.

With my numerous misdeeds, Mi C

ai wouldn't be unreasonable even if she skinned me alive. At this moment, revealing my actions to Board Dad was akin to self-destruction.

Just as I nervously felt a bit weak in my legs, Betsy walked towards the door without looking at me. It seemed that tonight, she intended to leave this place to me.

Just as I was about to heave a sigh of relief, the usually taciturn Board Dad said to Betsy, who hadn't stepped out of the door yet, "Young lady, I've packed a bowl of porridge for you. Drink it while it's hot."

I couldn't help but wish Betsy a hasty departure. I gestured desperately at her, but she unexpectedly nodded to Board Dad and said, "Thank you, Uncle."

...

Moments ago, two people on the brink of a life-and-death struggle were now sitting at a table, drinking rice porridge together. I still felt like a suspect who had committed a crime, remaining silent, but constantly on guard against Betsy saying something she shouldn't.

From the corner of my eye, I occasionally glanced at Betsy. However, I had no idea what kind of medicine she was selling in her gourd. Fortunately, she didn't seem to have any intention of reporting me to Board Dad. She just sipped her porridge in small sips.

Board Dad, who was always reserved and didn't talk much, ate more attentively than others. As a result, he finished his bowl of porridge first. He stood up, picked up his handbag, and said to me, "You have someone living here. I'll go to a hotel."

I looked at Betsy and said to Board Dad, "Board Dad, don't go. Just sleep with me later."

"I snore quite loudly recently, and you have to work tomorrow. I can't affect your sleep." Board Dad shook his head and handed me a sweater from the bag. "Your mom knitted a sweater for you."

I took a look at it and asked with some confusion, "Why are there two?"

"Give one to your future girlfriend when you find one. The sweaters knitted at home are thick and warm!" Board Dad advised.

I felt helpless. I knew Board Dad and Mom were subtly reminding me to find a girlfriend soon, using this roundabout way. Looking at Betsy, still sipping her porridge, I teased, "It's getting cold. I'll send you a sweater later!"

Betsy gave me a stern look, and in the end, didn't explode in front of Board Dad. I couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph.

...

As Board Dad was leaving, he counted out $3,000 from his wallet and handed it to me. "Take it."

I nonchalantly smiled and said, "Why are you giving me money? I'm not short of money!"

Board Dad put the money in my hand. "You're my son, and I know your quirks very well. I've told you countless times, to plan your finances... Take the time to pay the utility bills." He gestured towards the overdue water and electricity bills lying on the floor.

My nose suddenly felt a bit sour. I was truly not a son who put his parents at ease. I handed the money back to Board Dad. "I don't need it. My mom isn't in good health; use it to buy her some supplements. I'll get my salary next week."

Board Dad didn't say much, placing the money on the table. He glanced at Betsy and took a look at the water and electricity overdue notice that had fallen on the floor a few days ago.

I suddenly felt a pang of guilt. I knew Board Dad and Mom were using this indirect way to remind me to find a girlfriend quickly. I looked at Betsy, who was still drinking porridge, and jokingly said, "It's cold. I'll send you a sweater later!"

Betsy glared at me but ultimately didn't make a move in front of Board Dad. I secretly rejoiced.

...

As Board Dad left, I caught up with him to see him off. He, who had been silent, said to me, "That young lady just now is not bad, good-looking!"

I grabbed Board Dad, looked at the Q7 parked nearby, and said, "Board Dad, put away your fantasies. She's not my type... See that car? That's hers."

Board Dad, following my gaze to the red Q7, looked puzzled. I guessed he was also wondering why Betsy, who drove such a car, would move into such a shabby place.

My nose suddenly felt a little sore. I wasn't a son who made my parents worry. I put the money back into my father's hand: "I don't need it. My mother is not in good health. You can keep it and buy her some* **, I'll get paid next week."

The boss didn't say much, put the money on the table, looked at Betsy again, and walked out the door alone.

…

I caught up with my boss and sent him downstairs. He remained silent and said to me, "That girl just now is pretty good. She's pretty!"

I grabbed my dad, looked at the Q7 parked next to me, and said, "Daddy, put your fantasy away quickly, she is not my type... If you see that car, it is her car."

The boss followed my gaze and looked at the red Q7 with a puzzled look on his face. I think he was also surprised that Betsy drove such a car but lived in such an old place.

In the end, the boss chose to remain silent out of habit. He was helpless at my terrible current situation. Whether we want to admit it or not, we are truly in an era where we need to use money to prove love, so I asked him to put it away. Fantasy, I am even less willing to fantasize!

That night, my father left me with the last words "Work hard" and held an umbrella in the rain.

Looking at his old back in the rain, I read his expectations in this sentence. He expected me to work hard, marry a girl, and let him have a grandson... But daddy, I am living in my own life. In the helplessness and struggle, living in the heaviness and pull of reality, there are many good things to be realized, let's wait for now! ...is it okay?