Chapter 28: The Yu Family
“Hey, wake up! Young man, wake up!”
The glare shining directly onto his eyelids, the relentless force pushing at his shoulder, and the increasingly loud shouts ringing in his ears gradually roused Liu Yu from his slumber.
He opened his eyes, and his first reaction was to turn his head aside to avoid the light in front of him.
Seeing him awake, the person in front moved the flashlight away.
“Are you awake? What’s your name? Do you know where you are?”
A string of questions forced Liu Yu’s mind to work sluggishly. He focused and saw the person before him clearly.
A police cap, police uniform, both brighter than the flashlight in his hand.
Liu Yu’s heart leapt straight to his throat, his body trembling.
“Are you awake? At your age, drinking that much? Take it easy, alright?”
Another voice came from behind, along with a muffled groan.
“Mm... ugh…”
Liu Yu spun around abruptly, so fast it seemed he might throw his head off. Another police uniform blocked much of his view, but the half-exposed face behind it was enough for him to recognize the person.
“Brother Yu…” Liu Yu’s voice was hoarse as he stared in disbelief at Yu Guangchun, who was being pulled up by the police. He immediately lowered his head and pinched his left hand fiercely.
His left hand was perfectly normal. His body was normal. The Yu Guangchun before him was normal.
Liu Yu pressed harder, pinching himself viciously.
The pain brought tears to his eyes.
The policeman was startled by this gesture. “What are you doing? You don’t need to be so harsh on yourself to sober up.”
Liu Yu was speechless, his lips trembling with emotion.
It was a nightmare… All of that just now was a nightmare!
“Can you stand? Are you sober yet? If you’re not clear-headed, come sit at the station for a while, or we can drive you home,” the policeman said, grabbing Liu Yu and pulling him upright.
Liu Yu shook his head.
“What’s your name? Do you have an ID?” the policeman asked formally.
Liu Yu answered obediently. He didn’t carry his ID, but after he recited his ID number, the police checked his identity on their PDA.
Yu Guangchun was much more drunk than Liu Yu. Though he could stand and speak a few words, he was incoherent and impossible to communicate with.
Liu Yu answered for both, explaining their identities.
“You’re taking him home? Or should we drive you?”
“I’ll go by myself,” Liu Yu quickly declined.
Though the murder, escape, and being killed were only a nightmare, the feeling was so real that he still felt nervous facing the police.
The policeman seemed to sense something off and scrutinized him for a moment.
“Do you need us to call a car for you? Where does your colleague live?”
“No, I…” Liu Yu hesitated.
He really didn’t know where Yu Guangchun lived. When they first worked overtime together, things were harmonious; they went home together, took the same subway, Liu Yu got off first and Yu Guangchun rode a few more stops. He didn’t even know which station Yu Guangchun got off at.
“Do you have contact for his family?”
“No… I’ll ask our manager,” Liu Yu said, thinking quickly.
He dialed the phone, and Brother Lu on the other end was still sober enough to give him the address and asked several times if he could handle it. Liu Yu assured him repeatedly, his voice clear and logical. After hanging up, Brother Lu texted him the address again and sent Yu Guangchun’s wife’s contact.
Liu Yu breathed a sigh of relief, reported the address to the police, and cautiously asked, “Should I take him home now?”
“Call a taxi. We’ll wait until you get in,” the policeman said.
Liu Yu wanted a taxi anyway. Yu Guangchun could walk on his own, but kept muttering, talking to himself, swaying occasionally—he didn’t seem reliable.
Liu Yu waited anxiously for the ride-hailing car to arrive.
The two policemen spoke to the driver, helped Liu Yu get Yu Guangchun into the car.
Once the police and their car vanished from sight, Liu Yu finally relaxed.
A soft snore sounded beside him.
Yu Guangchun had quickly fallen back into a deep sleep.
Liu Yu felt complicated.
His left hand rested on his lap, perfectly normal. Yet inside this hand, this arm, lurked a monster that devoured people.
That was a nightmare. But what about before? Those nights of overtime, the monster he saw—was that also a nightmare?
The car was dim, with only a faint glow from the driver’s seat. The back was dark, sometimes illuminated by passing streetlights or headlights from oncoming cars.
After turning through several streets, there were more people about, and the bright lights from shopping malls shone into the night. The neon signs of small shops flashed in all colors.
The city’s night was neither silent nor truly dark.
Liu Yu felt dazzled by the lights, as if he were still in the nightmare, dizzy and lightheaded.
He touched his neck.
The feeling of suffocation seemed to linger within him.
His phone rang, breaking his daze.
The caller was an unfamiliar number.
Liu Yu’s heart stirred, and he answered.
“Hello,” he said cautiously, “may I ask who is calling?”
“Hello, hello. You must be Xiao Liu? I’m Yu Guangchun’s wife.” The woman’s voice was warm and soft, as if speaking quietly behind someone’s back. “Old Yu often mentions you. Sorry to trouble you tonight, bringing him home. Where are you now? Shall I come meet you?”
Liu Yu recalled the beginning of his nightmare—the young woman with curly hair and her tall, burly son.
He replied, “No need, we’re already at the complex. It’s building fifteen, right?”
“Yes, come in through the main gate, turn right, second row, third building. I’ll come down now.”
“Really, it’s fine—I’ll take Brother Yu up myself.” Liu Yu relayed the directions to the driver while nudging Yu Guangchun, “Brother Yu, we’re here. We’re home, Brother Yu.”
Yu Guangchun woke quickly, mumbling, “Home? No more drinking?”
“We’re home,” Liu Yu answered, then spoke into the phone, “Sister-in-law, I’ll hang up now.”
“Alright,” came the sound of a door opening softly from the other end, “I’ll come down to open the door.”
The car stopped in front of building fifteen. Liu Yu paid the fare and didn’t ask the driver to wait.
He dragged Yu Guangchun out of the car. Yu Guangchun staggered, but Liu Yu managed to pull him to the door.
Through the iron bars of the security door, the sensor light came on.
Liu Yu saw the woman rushing over, but with the door in between, he couldn’t see her clearly—only guessed she was rather short, not even one-sixty in height.
This differed from the wife in his nightmare.
Liu Yu felt dazed again.
The security door swung open. The woman’s face appeared.
She was a middle-aged woman with neat short hair, bearing some resemblance to Yu Guangchun, wearing no makeup, with wrinkles at her eyes—ordinary in every way.
Yu Guangchun saw her and called out, “Wife.”
“Oh, how could you drink so much? Sorry to trouble Xiao Liu.” Yu’s wife scolded him lightly, then smiled at Liu Yu, “Come upstairs, have some water and rest for a bit. You’ve had a tough time, carrying a drunk.”
Yu Guangchun was still leaning on Liu Yu. His wife tried to take over but couldn’t quite handle such a big man.
Liu Yu couldn’t simply let go and leave, so he helped her together to get Yu Guangchun upstairs.
Yu Guangchun was steady on flat ground, but climbing stairs revealed his drunkenness.
Liu Yu finally got him to the bedroom, dropped him on the bed, sweating profusely.
Yu’s wife invited Liu Yu to sit in the small dining area, pointing to a bowl of fruit soup on the table. “Xiao Liu, have something to eat, it’ll help sober you up. I made this tonight for the kid’s late snack. Old Yu says you like it too. You work alone, no one cooks at home, always eating out…”
Liu Yu was quiet.
He remembered, at the start of their overtime days, this was true. But as the overtime dragged on endlessly, he grew tired of Yu Guangchun, and stopped caring about such small favors. Looking back, in the early days of his allergy and itching, Yu Guangchun had carefully asked if the food his wife made was causing it. Afterwards, Yu Guangchun stopped sharing snacks and seemed not to bring any more.
Yu’s wife chatted briefly, then went to check on the drunken Yu Guangchun.
Liu Yu sat in the dining room, hearing her softly complain but patiently help Yu Guangchun out of his coat and shoes, wiping his face with a damp towel. Yu Guangchun seemed a bit clearer, sitting up and drinking some water.
The TV in the living room was on, but muted.
Liu Yu looked away and saw what was playing—a melodramatic romance series that had once been all over the internet years ago. The male lead stood with his mother, a tall man, and the actress playing his mother had long curly hair, dressed as a young wife.
Liu Yu felt as if his head had been struck. Watching, he laughed at himself.
So the wife and son from his nightmare were actually the actors from that old TV series.
Click.
Another bedroom door opened. Out came a tall, lanky teenage boy, looking like a bamboo pole. His eyes were single-lidded like Yu Guangchun’s, and now wide with surprise as he looked at Liu Yu.
Liu Yu thought, sure enough, quite different from the son in his nightmare.
Yu’s wife came out and introduced, “This is your father’s colleague. Call him Brother Liu—he’s a college graduate, just finished last year, only four or five years older than you. Right, Xiao Liu?”
Liu Yu nodded.
The boy awkwardly greeted “Brother Liu,” glanced at the fruit soup on the table, seeming to want to say something.
Yu’s wife brought another bowl from the kitchen, handed it to the boy, “Take it to your room. Finish early and rest.”
Liu Yu, belatedly realizing, watched the boy return to his room and asked, “Did I take Xiao Yu’s… I haven’t touched it yet.”
“It’s fine. That’s Old Yu’s. He won’t be eating tonight. He got lucky because of his son. Otherwise I wouldn’t bother making it. Eat before it gets cold.” Yu’s wife smiled.
Liu Yu cradled the warm porcelain bowl and ate slowly.
Yu’s wife sat down at the table, talking softly and endlessly, her tone a blend of Yu Guangchun’s and the middle-aged women from the neighboring office, showing concern for Liu Yu’s love life.
Liu Yu was a little embarrassed, his gaze wandering to the crowded glass cabinets in the living room.
Yu’s wife glanced back at the room and smiled proudly. “That’s the kid’s awards, trophies, and books. He buys lots of books—spends his allowance on them. He’s read them all, takes notes, writes reports. Both cabinets are filled with his things, and his room too. He loves this stuff. We can’t really understand, but as long as he likes it.”
“Brother Yu told me. He’s very smart, does well in school.”
“His grades are just average. Not good in Chinese. I used to tell him to study harder, but he never listened—now he’s anxious. Thankfully, he’s aware now. Studies until midnight, up at six—never complains. Not like Old Yu, who groans after a few days of overtime and nags him about studying.”
Yu’s wife paused and apologized.
Liu Yu didn’t offer platitudes. He thought of the nightmare, and Yu Guangchun’s drunken complaints before it.
The boy opened his door again, carrying his empty bowl. He politely greeted Liu Yu, then quietly returned to his room.
Liu Yu saw his spirited, youthful face. He wondered if it was youthful energy, or the drive of pursuing something he loved—a dream—that made him so full of vitality.
Liu Yu felt lost.
Yu’s wife collected the empty bowls, checked on Yu Guangchun in the bedroom.
“Old Yu won’t wake tonight. Really sorry to trouble you, Xiao Liu. Tomorrow he’ll thank you himself. Where do you live? I’ll call you a car. Oh, you took a taxi to bring him back, right? Let me pay you…”
She slapped her forehead in apology.
Liu Yu refused, “No need, sister-in-law, it’s nothing. Brother Yu always takes good care of me.” He paused—the words slipped out, but were sincerely meant. He continued, “I won’t trouble you anymore. No need to see me off.”
After much polite exchange, Liu Yu finally left the Yu family.
He went downstairs, walked a few steps, then turned back to look at the building.
Several windows were still lit; Liu Yu couldn’t tell if any belonged to Yu’s family.
He withdrew his gaze, stepped forward, and heard only his own footsteps. It was quiet, just like the Yu household. Yu’s wife talked nonstop, but her voice was always low, as if afraid to disturb the boy inside.
Suddenly, Liu Yu remembered the quiet of his own home during his senior year. He, too, rose early and worked late, never feeling tired. Every problem solved, every good score felt like… felt like… felt like receiving a paycheck.
Liu Yu smiled at the thought.
His laughter rang out abruptly in the silent community, then faded just as quickly, returning to stillness.