During New Year gatherings, aside from family members who might come back, there would definitely be many others coming, relatives, friends, etc. She had been feeling somewhat anxious lately, worried that she might encounter someone talkative, who would use the excuse of “for her own good” to hurt Song Qing.
Putting on a prosthetic limb, being able to walk and stand, no longer confined to a wheelchair, reduced some restraints—also meant he gained a bit more leverage, and looked a bit more pleasing to the eye.
Anyway, having a prosthetic was a good thing.
—
Around a bit past nine in the morning, Song Qing finally got the prosthetic. As soon as he put it on, regardless of the heaviness and tightness, the first moment he looked at Nan Zhi. Nan Zhi stood to the side, also looking at him, the corners of her mouth were lifted, her brows and eyes curved, looking even happier than him.
Actually, it had started last night. Clearly she had driven all the way, already very tired, but because of excitement, couldn’t fall asleep for a long time. Hiding under the blanket, she was searching for shoes and socks in bed, trying hard to find the styles and prices she had drawn herself, turning drawings into reality. He wore expensive new socks and new shoes.
Song Qing also rarely had insomnia last night, watching her actions all along. In the end, he told Nan Zhi to choose whatever she liked. Only then did Nan Zhi stop, buying the two pairs he picked, but she still went ahead and placed several more orders herself—some costing over a thousand, some a few hundred.
Nan Zhi said his leg needed to wear a prosthetic, and if the shoes were bad, it would be even more uncomfortable to walk.
Unable to win against her, they settled it that way.
Since it was delivery, the fastest would still take one or two days, but he might wear it today, so early in the morning when Nan Zhi brought him over, she casually bought a new pair of shoes and socks for him at the supermarket.
They had already been put on the prosthetic, what connected with him was the prosthetic, so he couldn’t feel its presence. It just looked pretty good.
The gel liner inside the socket had already been selected long ago. They had taken a long time to pick it out. This one, he could feel—very soft and comfortable, just a bit tight, still not used to it.
Both prosthetics were already put on. The master asked him to hold the railing and take a walk, try how it felt.
For this part, the master was holding him at the side, talking to him about how it felt to use. Nan Zhi didn’t join in, just stood at the side watching him.
Normally she was actually somewhat impatient, but when they were making the socket, she sat for several hours without complaining. There was a lot of rehab training here too, and she patiently sat and waited.
This thing was indeed boring. Song Qing saw that there were very few family members accompanying in the rehab center. Some just dropped people off and didn’t care anymore, left them here, and came back to pick them up after work. He was one of the lucky few.
There was someone with him the whole time.
The prosthetics had to be adjusted many times during walking. After they fit him better and better, time unknowingly reached noon. The two of them went home for a meal.
After eating, they came back to continue practicing. The original plan was to go home in the evening, but before the scheduled time, he already couldn’t hold on, and asked Nan Zhi to go home together. Upon checking, the amputation area had already rubbed red and swollen.
No wonder it hurt so much.
During the training, it was mainly back pain—the back was exerting force—only secondly the legs, so he hadn’t paid much attention to the legs. Turned out they weren’t lightly affected either. As for the back, it hurt so much he couldn’t sleep at night.
Nan Zhi found it hilarious. She said watching him fall asleep in one second every night made her so frustrated—because she had to go through at least half an hour of various mental activities and thoughts before she could fall asleep peacefully.
She suspected every day that maybe he had “hollow heart syndrome,” [someone sleeps instantly and doesn’t think at night], not thinking about anything and just falling asleep at night—she truly found it unbelievable.
She teased him with her mouth, but in truth her hands had somehow pulled out a bottle of medicated liquor and started rubbing him down.
While rubbing, she chatted with him about home matters. In a few days it’d be New Year, and by then relatives would be walking around. If anyone asked again what job he did, just say he ran an Information Technology Company.
He really did have a shell of an Information Technology Company. He needed to file taxes, prepare things like domain name ownership, and so on—Nan Zhi knew about all this. He said it felt kind of like lying. Nan Zhi refuted it saying no, it was just telling the truth.
Anyway, he couldn’t say he was unemployed anymore, making money by knitting now and then, occasionally filming videos, sometimes doing software work, taking software development requests from others—it sounded like a loafer just drifting through life.
That was what he originally told Fang Guanqi, though he didn’t know how Nan Zhi found out.
Nan Zhi told him to stop being so pragmatic. If anyone asked about income again, just say a million a year. If they asked about future plans, say to open a company and make big money—instead of honestly saying he wanted to be a volunteer teacher. In the eyes of certain relatives and parents, that just meant he was unpromising.
Not everyone could understand the act of stepping away to do good deeds. Just like if she herself said that once she earned enough, she’d go do charity work—people around her would probably think she’d been kicked in the head by a donkey.
Just barely got started and already learning from others how to be a great philanthropist.
The two of them didn’t need others to understand, but the first threshold still had to be passed properly—as for later matters, let them be discussed later.
She gave one instruction, and Song Qing just gave an “ngh” in response, otherwise he’d get his head pressed down and forced to agree by her—might as well nod by himself.
The two of them didn’t sleep until midnight. The next day, they didn’t go to the rehabilitation center, because it was Lichun in the second month. \[立春 Lìchūn is the first solar term of spring in the Chinese lunar calendar, usually early February.] Her parents were coming back.
They packed their luggage again, brought the cat, and went back to their hometown first. Coincidentally, the handrail they had ordered also arrived. The installation master also called to ask when to install it. They agreed on a time with him and rushed home without stopping.
It was peak travel time during the New Year, the highway had a bit of congestion. They left in the morning and only got home at night. After returning, they collapsed and went to sleep. The next morning, the master came to install the handrail, enclosing the previously too-narrow corridor—so that he wouldn’t fall while walking back and forth.
While chatting with the master, they learned that his family business was making handrails and iron gates. The master quietly inquired about the price of their custom job, then told them that buying from his family would’ve been cheaper, and also faster—could be done in just one or two days.
Nan Zhi really did start discussing with the master—she wanted to install handrails all around the edge of the rightmost sunroom, to let him train for rehabilitation.
Because it was urgent, the master came again the next day with tools and materials. After more than an hour of welding, it was already usable. From then on, he could train at home.
Inside the sunroom, there was no need to go outside and suffer the cold. When tired, he could just sit down on a chair. The most important part was—once the curtain was drawn, people outside couldn’t see in, so he could practice walking without any scruples.
At home, Nan Zhi always accompanied him when he walked. During the handrail training, he held onto the rail. Sometimes he let go of the rail—Nan Zhi would guard right beside him. As soon as he showed signs of falling, Nan Zhi had already reached out to hold him.
Sometimes, he fell too fast and landed directly into Nan Zhi’s arms.
Nan Zhi was like a parent, and he was a child who had just learned how to walk. When he moved forward step by step, Nan Zhi always extended her hands in front of him, letting him use her strength anytime. Once he reached the end, reached the corner, he also, like a child, pounced into her arms.
Thinking carefully, wasn’t Nan Zhi exactly raising a newborn?
The previous Song Qing had actually already died during the car accident. What came after was a new Song Qing, taken back home by her, taught how to interact and live normally, cutting off his past, giving him a new life.
Like pulling a person who had fallen into the abyss step by step back to the ground, then climbing upward, and finally reaching her side.
It was a very, very large project—so she was very amazing.
They stayed at home for two days. On the third day, her parents arrived as expected. Just as he thought, they were two people who, at first glance, looked very cultured—one elegant, one noble. Both were very well-mannered. Even seeing that their daughter’s partner needed to sit in a wheelchair, was a cripple, they only sighed once and said nothing at all.
Song Qing originally wanted to properly perform today and stand up, but because of the training these past two days, the leg had gotten even more worn down. At the crucial moment, he dropped the ball. In the morning when he was putting on the prosthetic, the pain was unbearable. When he took it off to wear again, he found that the skin was already broken and bleeding.
Nan Zhi saw it. Nan Zhi locked his prosthetic in the cabinet. The key was in her hand, so he had no way to wear it—could only go out like this.
You could tell—although her parents tried not to show it—there was still undisguisable disappointment in their eyes.
Well, after all, he had disabled legs. Honestly, not to mention Nan Zhi, even for ordinary people, he wasn’t worthy. Unable to give the other person happiness, and instead needing the other person to take extra care of him—any parent would probably react this way.
Because of Fang Guanqi’s prior incident, he had mentally prepared himself. Pretended not to notice, and tried his best not to be an eyesore in front of them, went into the kitchen to keep busy.
They had arrived early. Originally, they were supposed to get there last night, but had been stuck in traffic on the highway the whole night, and only arrived home around six in the morning, when the sky hadn’t fully brightened yet—so the dishes hadn’t all been prepared.
When Song Qing was making the sixth dish, he felt something was off. Like someone was watching him—the feeling of being stared at was really intense. He turned his head and realized that Nan Zhi’s mom didn’t know when she had come, looked like she had been watching for quite a while, standing by the door, watching him.
Song Qing’s hand trembled, and too much oil poured in. Her mom instead comforted him, “Don’t be nervous. I just… heard from Zhi Zhi that you’re the one cooking, so I came over to take a look.”
Tang Zhi had noticed that the dishes tasted somewhat different, seemed to be tailor-made for their taste. Upon asking, she found out that this son-in-law her daughter had recognized had long since asked about how they usually ate at home. He had even practiced a particular cuisine style for a while. He already knew how to cook, and after getting familiar with it, he had gotten even better.
Zhi Zhi had even shown them the short videos he made. He already had one to two hundred thousand fans. Supposedly, the carpet, fridge, sofa, and so on in their home were all replaced for free.
A stay-at-home gourmet blogger—with decent traffic. Advertisers came to him on their own to place ads, sent things and even paid him ad fees.
Not long ago, they’d just sent over two Australian lobsters, and also tomahawk steaks, etc. As a food content creator, ingredients were never lacking. Stuff came from all directions to the two of them.
Enough to eat for one or two months without repetition. Basically, they didn’t spend any money on food—and even earned money from it.
Once you knew the pathways and were diligent, money would make more money, and it would only increase.
Of course, the premise was that you were willing to do it. Able to endure the initial quiet period. Only by persisting could one make it work.
They themselves had once opened a pharmacy and lost money every day—lost so much that the two of them were too anxious to sleep, their hair falling out in clumps. The money they earned was basically all thrown back in—storefront rent, supply costs, staff wages—it crushed them until they couldn’t breathe.
They originally had a big house, but had to sell it and switch to a smaller one just to survive. Only by enduring did they grow to their current scale.
Zhi Zhi said, right now, he was also earning quite a bit. Just from short videos alone, there were about a hundred thousand. Aside from domestic accounts, he also had overseas ones.
Over there and here are not the same, even just views and clicks bring in money. The money was even easier to make than domestically.
He also had other side businesses, registering domain names and such. One time, he even sold a domain for 300,000.
He studied programming, worked solo, and had developed his own small apps. Every month, that brought in several hundred thousand as well. When he had time, he also took on outside projects.
Big ones, small ones, sesame-sized ones—he didn’t miss a single one. A software job worth 10,000—somehow people would haggle down to 500, and he’d still do it. The guy was interesting.
Her daughter, when she talked about him, had eyes that were all lit up. She tried her best to say everything in a good light, as if there was nothing wrong with him.
Even though she talked him up to the heavens, the two of them still decided to rely on their own eyes to personally observe whether he was someone worthy of entrusting their daughter to.
Tang Zhi leaned in a bit, standing behind him to watch him cook.
She had been standing there for a while. This young man—it was obvious at first glance that he was used to cooking. His techniques were skillful. His knife skills weren’t bad either—vegetables were cut evenly and looked nice. When he cooked, he also leaned toward the ideal of color, aroma, and taste all in one.
She had tasted it—flavor was quite good. The plating was beautiful too. Just… maybe because he noticed her watching from behind, the seasonings didn’t go in like they were supposed to. The vegetables hadn’t absorbed the water. Once they hit the wok—sizzle—they splattered.
The young man, meeting the parents for the first time—got nervous.