Peeking at Happiness

Nightfall had descended, and the city lights began to shine brightly.

The neon lights illuminated the night sky.

Zhuang Ziang, carrying a strawberry cake, headed to his mother Xu Hui's rented apartment. He looked up at the countless lit windows but felt no warmth in his heart.

None of those lights were for him.

As he reached the staircase, he encountered his mother rushing downstairs, dragging a suitcase.

Xu Hui, in her early forties, looked particularly weary from working long hours to make ends meet.

"Ziang, I have to go. Make yourself some dinner or go back home," Xu Hui said.

By "home," she meant Zhuang Wenzhao's place.

Officially, Ziang was under his father's custody.

"Mom, are you in a hurry? Can you eat some cake with me?" Ziang asked, his eyes full of hope.

"No time. I'll eat with you next time," Xu Hui glanced at her watch.

"Just a few minutes?" he pleaded.

"No, you're eighteen now, an adult. You need to be sensible," she replied firmly, turning and leaving without hesitation.

Watching his mother's departing figure, Ziang's eyes were filled with endless loneliness and desolation.

Telling her about his illness wouldn't change anything.

It would only make her sad earlier.

Even after he was gone, she would still be running around in the wind and rain.

A male colleague at her work, also divorced, had been pursuing her.

Ziang thought that without him, his mother could find happiness again without any worries.

In her later years, she would have someone to care for her.

Am I sensible enough at eighteen?

After a difficult decision, he chose to go back home.

He couldn't bear the burden alone.

People often say that a father's love is like a mountain, dependable in times of need.

Carrying the exquisite strawberry cake, he trekked across half the city.

The night wind was chilly, sending shivers down his spine.

When he stepped out of the elevator, he found the front door ajar, warm yellow light spilling out from the living room.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..."

The cheerful birthday song echoed in the room.

He suddenly remembered that today was his younger brother Zhuang Yuhang's birthday.

According to their rural traditions, birthdays were celebrated based on the lunar calendar.

At school, teachers and students typically only remembered the Gregorian calendar and weekdays.

With a significant age gap, Ziang and Yuhang lacked the closeness of siblings, more like children from different households in ancient times.

In previous years, if he made it to Yuhang's birthday, he'd join the meal; if not, it didn't matter.

In this house, he was like an outsider.

Yuhang's voice came through, "Mom and Dad, I hope our family of three will always be happy. You have to celebrate my birthday with me every year."

Indeed, in their eyes, this family only had three members.

Qin Shulan asked, "Honey, should we call Ziang and ask if he's coming?"

Wenzhao dismissed it, "No need. He's probably with his mom. If he wants to come back, he knows the way."

The family of three happily shared the birthday cake.

Their laughter felt like knives stabbing Ziang's heart.

At that moment, he felt truly superfluous.

His father was immersed in the joy of family reunions. Should he ruin it by presenting his terminal diagnosis?

If he were gone, it would only perfect their family of three.

No longer an occasional thorn in their side.

With a heavy heart, he was about to leave when the door opened, and stepmother Shulan saw his bewildered expression.

"Ziang, you're back. Why don't you come in?"

He stood frozen like a thief caught peeking at someone else's happiness.

He lowered his head and stepped inside, timidly greeting his father.

Wenzhao responded indifferently.

Every time he crossed this threshold, he felt like walking on thin ice, trembling with fear.

On the dining table was an exquisite cake, covered with colourful fruits and chocolates.

In comparison, his small cake seemed cheap and insignificant.

"Today is Yuhang's birthday. Wash your hands and join us for cake," Wenzhao said gravely.

The air felt stifling, making it hard to breathe.

His presence had shattered the joyful atmosphere.

He stammered, "You eat first. I'll get something from my room."

He fled to his room, closing the door heavily, finally able to catch his breath.

To cover his excuse, he rummaged through a drawer and found a bamboo flute.

It was a prize from a childhood music competition, long unused and rusty.

Soon, Yuhang knocked, "Mom and Dad sent me with cake."

Taking a deep breath, Ziang opened the door, speaking awkwardly, "Yuhang, thank you. Happy birthday."

Yuhang stepped in, eyeing the strawberry cake disdainfully.

Spoiled since birth and not sharing the same mother, he had no affection for his older brother.

To him, Ziang was just a studious nerd.

"You didn't have to come. You don't like being here, and I don't like you being here either," Yuhang said, discontent that Ziang disrupted their family's happiness.

"I'm leaving now," Ziang took the cake and flute and fled the room.

Shulan pretended to care, "Ziang, where are you going so late?"

He paused, gazing at his father, "Dad, I have heavy studies now. It's more convenient at Mom's. In three months, will you pick me up?"

Wenzhao was puzzled, finding Ziang's tone odd.

Three months later seemed like graduation.

"If you don't, it's fine," he added, disappointed, and rushed out.

As the elevator doors closed, tears welled up.

He envied Yuhang so much.

He had parents, yet it felt like he didn't.

Facing such misfortune, he had no one to confide in.

Leaving the community, perhaps due to emotional turmoil, his illness flared up.

Warm drops of blood dripped from his nose onto the gray pavement.

The bright red blood matched the tassel on his flute.

In three months, he would likely be gone.

Returning home wouldn't matter.

Whether his body was cremated and buried or scattered in the wind, it didn't matter.

Life was bitter enough; there shouldn't be another one.

Holding the flute, he aimlessly wandered the night streets.

Despite using many tissues, the nosebleed persisted.

He recalled the noon nosebleed with Su Yudie.

She had gently held his head and stopped the bleeding effortlessly.

Thinking of her smiling face, a faint warmth touched his lonely, cold heart.