Chapter 3
He slept heavily as I used his finger to unlock his phone.
I found the phone number from last night's call and stared at it for a while until something clicked in my mind.
I had seen this number before.
Three months ago, when Victor was hospitalized after falling while mountain climbing, I asked the police for the contact information of the person who first found him and called for help, wanting to express my gratitude.
This was the number the police gave me.
I have an excellent memory, especially for numbers.
I couldn't be mistaken.
I called the number in front of the police, and a woman answered.
Her voice was gentle and kind, but sounded somewhat older.
She softly stated that she didn't want to meet, and that thanks were unnecessary, saying this was something any normal person would do.
After hanging up, the police officer smiled and told me that while others might ask for a reward, she definitely wouldn't.
I asked why.
The officer said he recognized her during questioning - she had been featured in the news as one of the "Most Beautiful and Strong Women."
"She's had a tough life too. Her husband suffered a stroke and became completely paralyzed on their wedding day, leaving behind a 7-year-old son from a previous marriage. She stood by him, taking care of his every need for thirteen years, while also raising the child on her own. Her husband passed away last year, and she's finally caught a break. Now she runs a small stand selling lamb offal soup at the entrance of the suburban park.""Like someone with her moral character would ever accept your gratitude money."
I nodded thoughtfully at the time, "My husband was truly lucky to meet her."
Now, in the quiet of the night, I held my phone, staring at it for a long while before opening the photo gallery.
I wasn't sure if Victor was confident in himself or just trusted me completely, but he had hardly hidden anything.
What greeted my eyes was a screen full of photos of a woman.
The same woman.
Under the starry night sky, there was a small food stand, warm light glowing, steam rising.
The woman's eyes were gentle, her smile radiant, sometimes chopping ingredients, sometimes ladling soup, or chatting with customers.
Every scene exuded warmth, overflowing with an air of peaceful contentment.
In hundreds of photos, the woman's outfit changed from a short-sleeved dress to a thick cotton jacket.
The time span was half a year.
On the third day, I went to the suburban park and sat in front of the small stand with a sign that read "Melody's Lamb Soup".
I watched the woman called Melody from a distance.
She was crouching in front of a flower bed, speaking softly to a stray kitten.
Two men stood in front of her stand, joking:
"Melody only has eyes for these cats and dogs, she's not even trying to make money anymore."Melody hurriedly stood up, her face apologetic as she softly explained:
"I'm so sorry, I just felt bad for them and got too caught up in the moment. I didn't see you guys."
The other man waved his hand dismissively. "You're doing a good deed here. These strays have made your place their home. They know you've got a soft heart and they're all mooching food off you. It's such a heartwarming scene, we enjoyed watching it too."
After the two men left, I walked over.
"I'll have a bowl of lamb offal soup."
Melody made a small sound of acknowledgment and smiled as she ladled out my order.
Through the rising steam, I quietly observed her.
She was about thirty-five or thirty-six, with fine lines extending from the corners of her eyes. Though not as youthful and charming as younger girls, her features were soft and serene. Her hair was casually tied in a low ponytail, with loose strands framing her face, giving her that unique feminine grace.
"Sister, since it's your first time here, I'll give you some extra lamb lung to try."
I sat at the small table, savoring the taste slowly.
My mind couldn't stop grappling with one question.
Someone like Melody, with her experiences and character...
Would she really interfere in someone else's marriage?
Would she?