Chapter 50: An Opportunity for Recuperation

This story is purely fictional.

Chi Zhaoming’s son, Xiyu, had passed his high school entrance exams with flying colors, living up to everyone’s expectations by being admitted to a prestigious school. Meanwhile, Zhaoming’s career was also thriving—he had been promoted and given a raise, lacking nothing.

Inside the television station’s building, Zhaoming sat at his office desk, busy analyzing recent matches from the five major football leagues and other open games. As usual, he paid no mind to those around him, opening up his personal laptop with practiced ease.

During the day, there were generally no matches opening in the OR continent, so his attention was now on the NM league. In the past, he would never even glance at the NM matches, but ever since he became enamored with betting, it didn’t matter to him whether it was a top-tier league or a minor event—if there was a match, he paid close attention.

He was intimately familiar with the league systems of countries around the world, the histories of their clubs, the famous players and their unique characteristics. He even knew the ins and outs of E country’s first division, including obscure clubs and unknown players, their histories, and the honors they had achieved.

Just then, the station chief walked into his office. Seeing the chief, Zhaoming immediately closed the webpage he was browsing. The chief noticed his odd behavior and asked with concern, “Am I disturbing your work?”

“No, not at all. I was just dealing with something personal, looking at a new real estate development,” Zhaoming lied, afraid his secret might be discovered.

“Well, that’s a good thing. If you need any help, just ask; don’t stand on ceremony,” the chief said with a warm smile.

“Thank you, thank you. If I need your help, I’ll be sure to let you know.” Zhaoming prepared a cup of coffee and handed it over.

The chief took the cup, sipped, and shook his head in admiration. “Hmm, still as invigorating as coffee from country B. Is this from the last time I brought some back from B country? It’s lasted you this long? I finished my packets ages ago.”

“Yes, that’s the very one you gave me. I don’t drink much coffee—just opened this bag this morning. If you like it, take it. I hardly ever drink it, and if I have some at night, I can forget about sleep. Even if I drink it during the day, I have trouble sleeping at night, so I generally avoid it,” Zhaoming explained his insomnia from coffee.

“Once a gift is given, it shouldn’t be taken back, but since you’re not fond of it, I won’t stand on ceremony. I’ll reclaim my beloved coffee!” the chief replied, beaming.

“Please, take it. No need for formalities with me,” Zhaoming said, grabbing a chair and sitting beside him.

“I’m here today to discuss something with you. At the end of last year, our station recognized a group of model employees, and three of our colleagues were commended by the municipal government. As a result, they’ve been given an opportunity for a recuperative trip. Things are quiet at the station lately, so after some discussion, we’ve decided to send you and the other two honorees to a few coastal cities to rest and recharge. Sort out your current work, have Xiao Bianzi take over the editing room for two weeks, and enjoy your break. Come back refreshed and ready for new achievements next year,” the chief said, outlining the arrangements for his absence.

At the end of the workday, Zhaoming hurried out of the office, stopping at the supermarket to buy enough groceries for several days. After shopping, he rushed to pick up Xiyu from school. By the time they arrived home, Du Juan was already there, busying herself with her cosmetics.

Seeing the bags of food, Du Juan asked, “Did your company give out bonuses or something? I’ve never seen you bring home so much at once.”

“Oh, I was just about to tell you something. The city’s federation of trade unions is organizing a trip for model employees to a few northern cities. Our station has three honorees from last year, and the chief has arranged for me to go with them. They’re calling it recuperation, but it’s really just a break. We leave tomorrow at five in the afternoon by train. I haven’t traveled in over a decade, and I’ve never been to those northern cities. It’s only for half a month, and I’d really like to go. What do you think?”

“You really haven’t traveled in years. If you want to go, go ahead. The only problem is picking up and dropping off Xiyu at school, but that’s manageable. Don’t worry about it—just take care of yourself and stay safe,” Du Juan said slowly.

“You seem a bit down—is it because you’ll miss me? If you don’t want me to go, I’ll tell the chief tomorrow and give up the opportunity.” On the surface, Zhaoming was offering to stay, but in truth, he was eager to go.

Most of the matches he bet on took place at night, and odds were usually released in the evenings. Occasionally, he was so confident in his picks that he felt anxious leaving bets unresolved overnight, unable to watch the games. He didn’t want Du Juan to know about this anxiety.

Sometimes, when Du Juan was deeply asleep, he would get calls from Xiao Jin, who updated him on match results. He dared not raise his voice even a decibel, afraid to wake Du Juan and reveal his secret gambling. Many nights, he would huddle under the covers, listening to Xiao Jin’s updates, barely speaking for fear of waking her. She had repeatedly urged him to stay away from football, but he simply couldn’t.

Whenever Xiao Jin brought good news, Zhaoming still didn’t dare to celebrate openly as Xiao Jin did. Xiao Jin often teased him, saying he envied the freedom to cheer for his favorite teams in his own living room.

Though he claimed he didn’t mind not going, Zhaoming was actually hoping for Du Juan’s blessing, longing for her approval.

He looked at her with anticipation, and she could see right through him. She sipped her tea, then fished out a stray leaf and spat it into the trash. “Go ahead. If there’s any trouble, Xiyu and I will manage. It’s only half a month. Don’t worry about us.”

As she spoke, she fetched the suitcase from the hallway, wiping off the dust and opening it.

“Why are you packing now? I’m not leaving until five tomorrow afternoon. There’s plenty of time, what’s the rush?” Zhaoming asked.

“I have things to do tomorrow. If I don’t pack now, do you expect me to do it then? I’ll be busy and can’t see you off, so I’ll help you pack today. Just take your things to work in the morning and leave with your colleagues from there,” she replied.

“That makes sense. My colleagues mentioned bringing our luggage so we can head to the station together after work. Thank you, my dear, for packing for me,” Zhaoming said, touched.

“When have you ever packed for yourself? Back when you were in the army, whether it was me visiting you or you coming home, I was always the one packing for your trips,” Du Juan grumbled in mock annoyance.

“Yes, yes, my dear wife, you work so hard!” Zhaoming replied with a cheeky smile. Glancing at Xiyu, who was focused on his homework, he called out, “Xiyu, come here a moment, I need to talk to you.”

Without looking up, Xiyu replied, “I’ve been listening. You don’t need to say anything—I know, listen to Mom at home, study hard, and so on. Am I right, Dad?”

“My son knows me too well. You don’t need me to say it—you’ll do fine on your own,” Zhaoming said, ruffling his son’s hair, deeply comforted by his maturity. “Just wait—tonight I’ll cook you both a feast.”

“Will there be my favorite sweet and sour ribs?” Xiyu asked.

“Of course! How could I forget your favorite? Once a week, that’s our tradition. And tonight, besides sweet and sour ribs, I also bought bullfrog—we’ll have authentic spicy bullfrog hotpot,” Zhaoming replied.

Delighted by the promise of his two favorite dishes, Xiyu said, “I still have a bit of homework left. By the time I’m done, dinner should be ready.”

“I’ll speed up—forty minutes and you’ll have a hot meal,” Zhaoming said, hurrying off to the kitchen.

Du Juan continued packing, even remembering to tuck his razor into the small mesh pocket in the suitcase.

The next morning, Zhaoming spent his time at work preparing for his absence. Suddenly, his phone rang—it was Wu Zhengzhe. Zhaoming answered.

Wu’s voice came through, “Xiao Jin told me something—you’re really something, you know that?”

“What do you mean? I’m always loyal. I was just about to call you when your call came in,” Zhaoming replied.

“You always say that, but somehow I only ever hear good news about you from other people. Like your last promotion—that was awkward. You know?” Wu complained.

Zhaoming wanted to explain, but Wu sounded genuinely annoyed. “You, the model worker, do you even remember your friends? You only think of me when you need help.”

“You know me best. We’re on the same wavelength. Isn’t that why you called?” Zhaoming said playfully.

“Yeah, right. Same wavelength, my foot. You never treat me like a real brother. So, is this about me picking up Xiyu while you’re away?” Wu asked.

“Of course you’re my brother! You know me so well—I hadn’t even mentioned Xiyu, and you already guessed. Isn’t that proof we’re close?” Zhaoming laughed.

“Don’t worry, Xiyu’s in good hands. You can rest easy—I’ll make sure he’s safe,” Wu replied.

“Thanks so much. If anything comes up, call me. When I’m back, let’s have a drink together,” Zhaoming said as he hung up.

Later that afternoon, Du Juan called. “Take care of yourself while you’re away. Northern weather is cold. If your clothes aren’t warm enough, get yourself a down jacket. Don’t catch a cold.”

“It’s not the coldest time yet—what I’ve packed is enough. Wu Zhengzhe called earlier, he’ll take care of picking up Xiyu and can even help him with his studies. I’ve sorted everything out, so just focus on your own work. Let Wu look after Xiyu,” Zhaoming said, hanging up.

(Serial continues)