Chapter 003: Midnight Karaoke

This story is entirely fictional.

In a bustling corner of the city, after the daytime cacophony has been briefly subdued by night, the noise quickly returns, with voices rising in a clamorous tide. The market stalls in the corner overflow with the shouts of vendors: “Fresh organic vegetables just in, come and buy!”

Beside the market stands an antique building, its walls mottled and weathered. Stains from years of rain mark its façade, moss grows thick in damp patches, and climbing vines partly veil the sullied walls. Untended for many years, it seems to have aged with time.

Chi Mingyue returned home, her residence occupying the second floor of this old house. The property had been allocated to her uncle by his workplace, but when he bought a new home a few years ago, Mingyue and her husband were allowed to stay here rent-free for the time being. The couple made their living selling vegetables at a small stall next to the market.

Surrounded by the relentless calls of vendors, Mingyue lived day after day a life of utmost simplicity.

She bought a pig’s stomach from the market, knowing her eldest brother Zhao Ming loved cloud-slice pig stomach soup. Mingyue scrubbed the stomach vigorously with salt, cleaning it over and over until the water ran clear, then began to prepare it. In a heated pan, she stir-fried the stomach with ginger and cooking wine to remove its odor, then simmered it gently in a clay pot.

Once the soup was ready, Mingyue went downstairs to find her husband and told him she needed to visit the hospital, explaining it was for her brother and sister-in-law’s surgery. Her husband nodded repeatedly, “Go without worry, take good care of your brother and sister-in-law. I’ll handle everything at home.”

Her husband, Situ Kong, had dark skin and a medium build, always keeping his hair cropped short. His forehead was somewhat narrow, making his face appear broader below. His full facial muscles resulted from the habit of chewing food slowly and thoroughly. His hair seemed stiff; sometimes, after sleep, it would stick out like the quills of a hedgehog.

Situ’s eyes shone with a peculiar brightness, a glimmer in the darkness. On closer inspection, his eyes were dominated by black, with less white than most people; the darkness of his pupils occupied most of his gaze.

Situ had managed to gain admission to medical school in his youth, but during his studies, a theft in the hospital pharmacy led him to take the blame for a friend out of loyalty. He was forced to leave school as a result. After marrying Mingyue, he struggled to find steady work.

When Wu Zhengzhe returned to the hotel, he entered to find Mingyue standing by the bed, weeping uncontrollably. Zhao Ming sat on the edge of the bed, tears streaming down his face, speechless, sitting dazed as Mingyue pounded his shoulders in anguish.

“How could you be so reckless? I warned you after your first mistake; if you had just stopped then, the family wouldn’t be in this mess, and I wouldn’t be suffering because of you. Ten years in prison aside, you dragged everyone around you down. Living in this world, it seems fate is blind. If I’d known things would end like this, I would never have given everything to save someone so undeserving.” Mingyue cried as she continued to beat Zhao Ming.

Seeing Mingyue’s turmoil, Wu Zhengzhe hurried to comfort her, “Let the past go. The ten years are over, the punishment served. What matters now is your sister-in-law’s surgery. Your brother needs to take care of his health to ensure he’s fit for the upcoming kidney transplant. I’ve already prepared the money; you can rest easy!”

Hearing Wu Zhengzhe’s words, Mingyue’s hands stopped. She wiped her tears and looked at him in silence.

Mingyue rose and took out the cloud bean and pig stomach soup she had prepared at home.

“Get up. I made your favorite soup. In the ten years you were in prison, I cooked countless pots of soup. But each time I prepared to visit you, memories of those two years would surface, and several times I turned back halfway, abandoning the trip. So, over the past decade, I only visited once. If not for running into Wu Zhengzhe at the hospital, I might have forgotten your release date. Honestly, sometimes I wished you’d died in prison; what difference would it make if you came out? Would you only bring more pain and hurt to those around you? Seeing you fills my heart with scars, and I don’t know how long they’ll linger. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forget the painful past.” With that, Mingyue sobbed again, her cries like a sharp blade piercing Zhao Ming’s heart.

Wu Zhengzhe patted Zhao Ming’s shoulder, comforting him, “Don’t take Mingyue’s words too much to heart. The hurt you caused is deep, and no one can forget it so quickly. Try to let go.”

Zhao Ming listened, nodding repeatedly.

“Come, the soup is still hot.” Mingyue served him a bowl.

Wu Zhengzhe helped Zhao Ming to the sofa by the coffee table, took the bowl from Mingyue, and said, “Drink it while it’s hot.”

Zhao Ming took the bowl and spoon. Tears welled in his eyes and fell into the soup, causing small ripples that grew and faded with the soup’s aroma.

He sipped a spoonful, slowly, feeling a bitterness—perhaps from the tears, perhaps from his own tasteless mouth—but when he realized his sister hadn’t forgotten his favorite soup after all these years, a faint sweetness mingled in, and after several mouthfuls a blush rose to his cheeks.

Setting down the spoon, Zhao Ming spoke with trembling voice, “You’ve all suffered. These ten years, everything you did for me, I know. I understand your torment and will never forget it. Now your sister-in-law’s illness is severe; you know the situation even better than I. The kidney transplant is imminent, and time allows no further delay. I’ll go to the hospital for preoperative checks these next days, and if all is well, the surgery will proceed at once. But please don’t tell anyone I’m the donor—this is the only thing I can do for her.”

“I’ll respect your wishes, but I worry—after ten years in prison, can your body withstand the surgery? What if—”

“There’s no ‘what if.’ Even if there are a thousand, ten thousand ‘what ifs,’ don’t worry. Her illness is my direct fault. Donating my kidney is the only thing I can do, the only way to save her life. I have no other choice.” Zhao Ming interrupted her.

“Take good care of yourself. I need to visit your sister-in-law in the hospital. Your in-laws haven’t been well lately, but I’ve told them I’ll handle everything, so they needn’t worry. Xiyu’s work is hectic these days, but he’ll find time to visit. I’ve already called him.” Mingyue spoke, then gently closed the door and left.

Wu Zhengzhe and Zhao Ming sat together in silence as dusk slowly crept in.

Wu Zhengzhe lifted the green curtain; night had fallen. The nearby high-rises glowed with scattered lights, and the pale blue sky was studded with stars, winking at him. He turned to Zhao Ming, “How about we go sing karaoke tonight?”

“Karaoke?” Zhao Ming hesitated, then replied, “Alright! Book a private room with recording equipment. I want to record a song I wrote in prison.” He instructed.

Wu Zhengzhe understood his intent: singing, writing lyrics, composing—he excelled at all, and guitar was his forte.

Wu Zhengzhe took out his phone, browsed his contacts, and called a KTV, reserving a recording studio.

Zhao Ming dressed in the new clothes Wu Zhengzhe had bought for him, looking spirited. He put on the sunglasses from the coffee table, causing Wu Zhengzhe to exclaim, “Wow, you look cool!”

“Why wear sunglasses at night? It’s bad for your eyes,” Wu Zhengzhe tried to persuade him.

“I don’t want to be recognized. Sunglasses make it easier,” Zhao Ming replied earnestly.

“I barely recognize you myself. You’ve aged a lot these ten years,” Wu Zhengzhe joked.

Hearing this, Zhao Ming removed the sunglasses, looked in the mirror, and brushed his fingers over the deep wrinkles on his forehead, his eyes growing more melancholy.

The two stepped outside, the air chilly. Zhao Ming shivered, “Wow, it’s cold!”

“That’s the climate nowadays—hot and cold, unpredictable. But my mood is good; we haven’t sung karaoke in ten years. Together tonight, I feel warm inside.” Zhao Ming smiled, “Let’s go—KTV, here we come!”

At the KTV, the staff led them to the recording studio, bringing several bottles of red wine and snacks, filling the small table.

The two men filled their wine glasses. As Zhao Ming was about to drink, he remembered the preoperative checks and set aside the wine, asking for a bottle of vitamin C drink instead. He sipped his drink absently, barely listening to Wu Zhengzhe’s conversation, listlessly raising his glass and drinking in silence.

The KTV was equipped with imported Danish sound systems, the best in the city. Seeing Zhao Ming silent, Wu Zhengzhe said, “Don’t be so down. If you want to talk, speak up—it might help. If you want to cry, cry loudly! No one but me will hear.”

Upon hearing this, Zhao Ming broke down in sobs. Wu Zhengzhe embraced him, letting Zhao Ming bury his head in his shoulder. Beyond the sound of his cries, Wu Zhengzhe could feel Zhao Ming’s body trembling, wracked with sobs. The TV screen played a music video, and the song “Men Crying Is Not a Sin” drifted through the room.

Wu Zhengzhe picked up the microphone and sang along.

Moved by the song’s emotion, Zhao Ming felt all his unhappiness released. He wiped his face, took the guitar hanging on the wall, and sat on the studio chair, strumming the strings and producing a crisp sound. “Get the recording ready,” he said to Wu Zhengzhe.

Facing the microphone, Zhao Ming began his confession: “Wife, when you hear this song, I don’t know if I’ll still be by your side. For ten years, I’ve been repenting, repenting for all I’ve done. This song, ‘Forgive Me,’ is for you.”

Wu Zhengzhe, seated on the sofa, became the sole audience for his brother Zhao Ming.

The studio fell silent, and to the plaintive, sorrowful guitar music, Zhao Ming sang “Forgive Me”:

In the boundless sea of people
I met you
You were as beautiful as a flower
Etched into my memory
Days gone by
Sweet as honey
That carefree delight
Unmatched in this world
I don’t know when
I lost myself
Stumbling all the way
Walking through nights with no dawn
An invisible net
Wrapped my lifeless body
I tried to break free
But the tighter I struggled
The more I was bound
A soul consumed by greed
Unwilling to awaken
Seeing the abyss ahead
Tears clouded my vision
In my ignorance
I hurt others and myself
Only upon waking
Did I realize
That illusory world
Was but a fleeting dream
Now
I can’t finish confessing my endless regret
I want to promise you
I’ll no longer be your burden
I hope you can forgive me
Forgive the original sin I committed
Never again let you suffer or feel pain
Never again let you suffer or feel pain
Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me...
I hope you can forgive me
Forgive my monumental guilt
Never again let you suffer or feel pain
Never again let you suffer or feel pain
Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me...

(Serial continues)