The ultimate blue sea

Chapter 82

In that instant, Su Qing began to hate his above average vision. Su Chengde was about three meters away from him. That was close enough for him to clearly see every faint expression on Su Chengde's face, the flickering movements at the corners of his mouth and eyes as though he was desperately trying to cover something up, and the small and numerous agitated wrinkles.

He saw Su Chengde's eyebrows drooping from age, saw the marks of time carved on his face, saw the khaki coat he was wearing and the untied checked scarf around his neck, and the edges of a shirt and vest exposed under it.

So familiar, yet so strange.

The two of them stared at each other for a full five minutes. During that time, Su Chengde opened his mouth over and over, but from beginning to end, he couldn't say a word. His chest rose and fell violently. The setting sun seemed to be stabbing his eyes; all of a sudden, Su Chengde fiercely closed his eyes, as though they had been hit by something. He took a slight step back.

Su Qing straightened up and said "dad," but only his lips moved. He couldn't make a sound.

At last, this elderly successful businessman succeeded in controlling his emotions. He slowly waved a hand, then silently turned, parked the car and locked it, paused, then beckoned to Su Qing. "Come in and talk."

Su Qing's glib tongue seemed to have gone mute. There was something blocking his chest, blocking it so firmly he could barely catch his breath.

He followed Su Chengde inside. The housekeeper came out to welcome them and couldn't resist staring when she saw Su Qing. Her eyes traveled over his always appealing face. Even her voice lowered a little. "Uncle, you're back."

Su Chengde pointed to Su Qing as though nothing were the matter. "This is my son. He's staying for dinner today. Go out and buy some more food."

Xiao Wu agreed. When she passed by Su Qing, she couldn't resist lowering her head slightly. She nimbly changed her shoes. In the whole enormous house, only father and son remained.

Su Qing looked the place over and found that the furnishings were no different from what they had been many years ago. Since the time father and son had fallen out over his troublemaking and he had moved out, up to now, counting it all up, nearly seven years had passed—it was like another lifetime. Truly like another lifetime.

"Where did you go?" Su Chengde asked quietly when Xiao Wu left. He had just taken off his coat and hung it over the back of the couch, but his hand hadn't moved. His fingers tightly clutched the couch, too tightly, so much so that his hand seemed to be trembling.

This question was too hard to answer. Su Qing stared blankly. For a time, he didn't know where to start.

Su Chengde suddenly stepped up and fiercely slapped Su Qing. The hit nearly turned his head. Su Qing was taken unawares. His mind buzzed. That slap of Su Chengde's fell hard. The imprints of five fingers immediately rose up on his white skin. Su Qing's ears were ringing. He closed his eyes and slowly raised his hand to hold his cheek, belatedly feeling the stinging pain... It really hurt.

"How many years? Where did you go?" Su Chengde yelled this. Su Qing could almost hear a sob in his voice. "Well? Where the hell did you go?"

"Dad..." he stammered almost inaudibly.

"Don't call me dad! You aren't my son!" Su Chengde's eyes were open very wide, the rims of his eyes as red as burning iron. He suddenly exploded into roaring: "Count it up for yourself, how many years has it been? How many years without even a phone call from you, not one glimpse of you? You might have left an address! Even if you didn't want to see me, couldn't you have left an address with those useless friends of yours, huh? Why didn't you take pity on an old man, at least let me know whether you were dead or still living?"