Chapter 9: Zhuang Zhou's Dream of the Butterfly

"Son, you should be more careful when addressing people in the future. Those two shouts of 'Dad' and 'Mom' you made yesterday almost scared the wits out of us."

At the entrance of the outpatient department, Song Han looked rather embarrassed as he listened to his mother's nagging and caring words.

He had just regained consciousness yesterday and hadn't had time to react. His mother's howling had also given him quite a fright.

Inside the outpatient room, the doctor flipped through the examination records and nodded, saying, "The patient can be discharged from the hospital. Just go home and have a good rest and recuperation in the future."

Father Song was still worried and said, "Doctor, my son still often has headaches. Sometimes when we talk to him about a lot of things from the past, he says he can't remember clearly, and he seems a bit dull."

The doctor explained, "These are all normal manifestations after a concussion. Mainly because he is still young. After going back and having a good rest, he will be able to recover quickly!"

"My son has just been promoted to the first grade of senior high school this year. What about his studies then?"

The doctor helplessly waved his hand and said, "There's nothing we can do about that. My suggestion is to take a leave of absence from school for a while to recuperate well, and then repeat the grade after getting better.

After all, the high-intensity study and brain activities during senior high school are not much help for the recovery of his condition."

... 

The next day, in the mediation room where they had an appointment with the party responsible for the accident, Father Song looked at the envelope handed over by the other party and said angrily, "My son can only drop out of school now! Do you think 6,000 yuan can compensate for that? He's only 16 years old!"

The other party said indifferently, "I paid all the expenses for your son's hospitalization, both before and after. Plus this 6,000 yuan, it's almost 30,000 yuan in total! What else do you want?"

The mediator glanced at Song Han, who was sitting quietly aside and seemed curious about everything. Subconsciously, the mediator turned his head and avoided Song Han's gaze when he looked back. Then the mediator opened his mouth to offer words of comfort. "This family member, I understand that you're very upset about your family member's injury. However, currently, according to the division of responsibilities and the on-site investigation, both parties are at fault and need to bear 50% of the responsibility respectively. The other party is willing to cover all the medical expenses and, under humanitarian assistance, provide a living subsidy of 6,000 yuan. This is already a very good condition. Otherwise, according to the previous division of responsibilities, you would also need to bear 50% of the medical expenses yourself."

The mediator's words made Father Song's face turn livid.

Song Han, who was curiously looking around the ancient meeting room, turned his head when he heard the voices and looked at the fat person responsible for the accident opposite. It was this guy who stepped on the gas pedal and caused the accident that brought him a few years earlier. Should he be grateful to this person for making him awaken earlier, or should he hate him? 

Without the slow transition of the memory palace, a large amount of information was received in a short time, overwhelming the meager brain data of his current 16-year-old self.

Fortunately, he was young enough now, and the activity level of his brain nerves was at its highest level. Otherwise, schizophrenia would have been the best outcome.

Song Han rubbed his temples, which were throbbing with pain, and frowned as he said, "I seem to remember that you crossed the solid line to overtake and hit me."

As soon as Song Han's words came out, the other party's face changed drastically.

"Don't talk nonsense. What do you mean by crossing the solid line? It was clearly you who didn't look at the cars when crossing the road and dashed across the road, which led to the car accident!"

"Is that so?"

Song Han subconsciously recalled the experience of that day. However, the throbbing pain in his head made it extremely difficult for him to access his memories each time.

"I remember that there were many classmates at the scene who saw it, right? The teacher and the emergency responders at that time should also be able to testify."

At this moment, the mediator beside him said indifferently, "In our on-site investigation report, there is no evidence of the other party's act of crossing the line to overtake."

At this time, a middle-aged man wearing a jacket who had been sitting beside them and hadn't spoken a word said, "Actually, no matter what, my son didn't drive carefully when passing through the school section, so he still has to bear a certain amount of responsibility. Although according to the current rules and regulations, both parties need to bear 50% of the responsibility. 

But we are still willing to give you some additional compensation. After all, in the eyes of ordinary people, in any car accident, the injured party is always at a disadvantage. What do you think? In addition to the medical expenses and the 6,000 yuan, we will give an extra 4,000 yuan as nutrition expenses. We also hope that the child can have a good rest and recover soon."

At a disadvantage, the view of ordinary people! It was almost as if they were blatantly telling him that the other party had power and influence and had already settled all the issues, and they were no longer willing to spend more money on him, the victim.

Unfortunately, Song Han's parents beside him didn't understand the tough attitude hidden in the other party's words.

Seeing that his parents still wanted to continue arguing, Song Han shook his head helplessly. Amid the surprised gazes of everyone present, he interrupted his father.

"Dad, let it be. Sign the papers!"

When all the formalities were completed, Song Han went through the procedures for taking a leave of absence from school. Then he followed his parents and boarded the train heading south.

There were dilapidated eaves, and moss that was struggling to climb up along the corners of the walls. The messy electrical wires extended along the uneven steps. There were even many dilapidated adobe stone houses that had long since disappeared in his hometown in the inland area, but they were still precariously standing in this nationally renowned coastal city.

The group continued walking and finally stopped in front of a two-story small building. 

The ancient wooden bolted gate, the stone railing window sills, and the messy electrical wires running under the overhanging eaves all revealed the long history of this small building.

Looking at this small building that exuded the marks of time and hardship, Song Han's long-deposited memories suddenly surged up.

On one hand, there was the past where he dropped out of junior high school at the age of 14 and started working in coastal areas, doing jobs like waiting tables and washing dishes. His resume was so rich that it couldn't even be fully written on a single piece of paper.

On the other hand, there was the present where he was still studying at the age of 14, finally got into senior high school, and was now on a leave of absence due to the car accident.

What was real and what was fake? Who was Zhuang Zhou and who was the butterfly in the dream?

Lying in the small room that his parents had tidied up, with just a wardrobe and a small bed, Song Han tossed and turned restlessly.

And next door, his parents, who had been separated from him for a hundred years and were now reunited, were also whispering to each other.

"Do you think Xiaohan can get used to living here in the coastal area with us, when he used to live in such a nice house when studying in our hometown?"

Song Han's father said irritably, "It's not because you were worried about his injury and that he couldn't take care of himself alone in our hometown. And you didn't want to quit your job and stay at home to take care of him either!"

His mother was unhappy, "Is this my fault? I just wanted to earn more money! The eldest son is about to get married soon. Where are we going to get the money for the bridal chamber and the betrothal gifts in our hometown? It's easy for you to say that I should quit my job to take care of Xiaohan. But if we can't come up with the betrothal gifts then, I'd like to see what you can do!"

"Aren't there 500,000 yuan in the bank card?"

"I knew what you were thinking!"

"Xiaohan is young and doesn't understand things yet. If you use this money, how are we going to account for it in the family in the future? It's one thing for the child to show filial piety to us, but if you use this money for the eldest son's marriage, how are you going to make the eldest son face the third son in the future?"

This small building full of a sense of history apparently didn't take sound insulation into consideration when it was built. The conversation between his parents clearly reached Song Han's ears in the next room.

However, listening to their mundane quarrel, Song Han's originally confused thoughts suddenly calmed down.

It was as if a kite floating in the sky was suddenly pulled down by someone on the ground.

In a drowsy state, Song Han gradually fell asleep, with only one sentence echoing continuously in his mind:

As long as your parents are alive, you still have a place to return to. Once your parents are gone, there is only the path of return left. Now, he seemed to have a place to return to again, right?

The next day after he woke up, Song Han silently transferred 500,000 yuan to his parents. Looking at the remaining 200,000 yuan in his account, he couldn't help but sigh: 

"Money really doesn't go far!"

As soon as the words fell, his phone vibrated slightly:

Your bank account has received a payment of manuscript fees: 732,142.65 yuan.

At the dining table, in the face of his parents' inquiry about the suddenly transferred 500,000 yuan, Song Han smiled and said, "Dad! Buy a house. When we came here yesterday, we passed by several residential areas, and I saw that the prices weren't too high. For one million yuan, we can buy a large-sized apartment, and it would be more comfortable for our whole family to live together."

The eldest brother looked at his somewhat unfamiliar younger brother and sighed, "It's already 7,000 yuan per square meter, and you still say it's not high! With our salaries, we'll never be able to afford a house in our lifetime!"

Song Han smiled and said casually, "As long as there's still a chance for the prices to rise in the future, it's not considered high no matter how much it is now. Who knows, maybe it will rise to 20,000 or 30,000 yuan per square meter in the future?"

Pfft~~~

"20,000 to 30,000 yuan! How is that possible!"

Ignoring the shock of his family, Song Han continued, "Ten years ago, no one believed that the houses here would rise to 7,000 yuan per square meter either!"

"Just buy it. If it's not enough, I'll find some more money for you."

Upon hearing this, Song Han's eldest brother asked in surprise, "How much money have you really earned from writing novels?"

Song Han waved his hand. Without looking at his family members who had somewhat awkward expressions, he said indifferently, "Not much. Just enough for this one house, I guess."