Chapter 1 Zhang Jun's Performance

Zhang Jun's performance in Milan was getting better and better. After scoring twice against Parma, he scored another goal in the next game. It seemed that even if Inzaghi recovered from his injury, he wouldn't have much of a chance. And Inzaghi had indeed started training with the team, but he always frowned, looking worried about his position competing with Zhang Jun.

At the beginning of the season, when Zhang Jun hadn't scored yet, Inzaghi was optimistic about his future. But as Zhang Jun scored, praise poured in, his reputation grew, he appeared on TV shows, made the front pages of newspapers, and became a new darling in the eyes of fans... All of this put tremendous pressure on Inzaghi.

That's how football is. If you're old, injured, or no longer in good form, being replaced by a younger, better player is only a matter of time.

Inzaghi trained very hard after returning from his injury, which made Ancelotti very happy. Now it seemed that buying Zhang Jun was indeed useful. In recent years, AC Milan's lineup had been fixed, which increased the understanding between players, but also led to insufficient competition within the team, and some players lacked a sense of crisis and competition.

Now, the arrival of Zhang Jun and Yang Pan had injected vitality into the team. If a team wants to maintain its fight for various championships, it is important to keep it vibrant, and this vitality comes from healthy competition within the team.

Everyone could see the changes Zhang Jun had brought to the team. He had won the trust of his teammates and coach, and the love of the fans.

More and more Milan fans were wearing his "11" jersey.

It seemed that everything was developing in a positive direction for Zhang Jun in Milan, at least until that incident happened.

※※※

When Yang Pan got up to wash, Zhang Jun was already in the kitchen making breakfast. It was a very ordinary morning.

"Morning," Yang Pan greeted sleepily and went to wash his face.

"Morning," Zhang Jun replied, frying eggs. The eggs sizzled in the pan, giving off an inviting aroma. Italian pasta and bread were already prepared and placed on the table, just waiting for the fried eggs to be ready.

He first scooped out his two fried eggs; he liked them tender, with the yolk still runny. Yang Pan didn't like that raw taste and preferred them more well done.

Just as he put the plates on the table, the phone rang. From the ringtone, he could tell it was from home. Zhang Jun found it strange; he always took the initiative to call home regularly, and his parents rarely contacted him first.

"Hello, Mom?" he said into the phone while turning back to tend to Yang Pan's two fried eggs.

"Your dad is gone..." his mother said, her voice choked with sobs.

"Gone? What do you mean gone? Doesn't he often go out to participate in activities?" Zhang Jun hadn't reacted yet.

"He's never coming back. He...he's dead..." his mother couldn't hold back and cried into the phone.

Zhang Jun felt his heart skip a few beats, and then nothing. Then he felt like he couldn't breathe.

※※※

Yang Pan finished washing up and walked out of the bathroom, but he smelled something burning. Could it be breakfast? But Zhang Jun never made mistakes when cooking. Confused, he rushed into the kitchen and saw Zhang Jun standing in front of the stove, holding the phone, with black smoke rising from in front of him.

"Hey, what are you doing? Did Sophie call or something?" Yang Pan rushed forward to turn off the stove, not forgetting to joke with the guilty Zhang Jun. Looking back at the fried eggs in the pan, God, they were a complete disaster. Yang Pan quickly looked away, afraid that if he kept watching, he wouldn't be able to eat breakfast at all today.

"Are you kidding me..." Zhang Jun muttered.

"Huh?" Yang Pan dumped the fried eggs into the trash can and looked up to ask Zhang Jun, but he quickly realized that Zhang Jun wasn't talking to him at all, because Zhang Jun was staring blankly out the window.

Yang Pan realized that something was wrong: "Hey, Zhang Jun, what's wrong with you?"

"Yang...Yang Pan, can you ask Ancelotti for leave for me? I need to book a plane ticket..."

"Book a plane ticket? What for?"

"Go back to China, go home..." Zhang Jun seemed to be talking to the air.

"What happened? Tell me!" Yang Pan threw the frying pan aside and grabbed Zhang Jun's shoulders, asking loudly.

"I... my dad is dead..."

Yang Pan was stunned.

※※※

In the end, Zhang Jun personally called Ancelotti and explained the situation, hoping to go home to take care of the funeral arrangements. Ancelotti agreed and comforted Zhang Jun, telling him to take care, and granted him a week's leave.

While Yang Pan was still training at the Milanello training base, Zhang Jun had already boarded a plane from Milan to Beijing.

Many reporters noticed that Zhang Jun was not at training, and the Milan club had not said that he was injured and unable to train with the team. So, surprised, they began to speculate, and various rumors surfaced. It wasn't until after training that AC Milan held a short press conference to dispel the doubts of the many puzzled reporters: "Zhang Jun flew back to China this morning. His father passed away unexpectedly, and he needs to go back to take care of the funeral arrangements. AC Milan is very saddened by this accident, and we have proposed holding a moment of silence for Zhang Jun's unfortunate father during the league game in two days."

As soon as this was said, there was an uproar below.

The Milan official website had already released an important announcement on the homepage as soon as possible, expressing grief. "...Zhang Jun has lost his beloved father, and we will temporarily lose an excellent scorer in the league game in two days. But AC Milan's loss is far less than one-millionth of Zhang Jun's. We express our grief again. Zhang Jun is a strong player, and we believe he will recover soon..."

Then major news agencies broadcast this short message, and professional media also reported on this sudden event. As Zhang Jun's hometown, China was in an uproar. After learning Zhang Jun's flight number, countless reporters guarded the Beijing Capital International Airport, hoping to interview Zhang Jun as soon as possible.

At this time, Zhang Jun knew nothing about what was happening outside. His mind was numb. He couldn't say he was sad, nor could he say he was heartbroken. He had no special emotional fluctuations. Maybe he still couldn't accept such a fact. He knew his father was a bit of a joker, maybe this was a joke he had planned?

Many passengers on the plane had already started adjusting to the time difference, but Zhang Jun tilted his head and still felt no fatigue. He stared blankly at the light above the cabin. The light was white, like in a hospital, and his mother's crying still echoed in his ears.

"Your dad is gone... Your dad is gone... Your dad is gone..."

※※※

When Zhang Jun walked out of the passage with just a bag on his back, the reporters outside immediately recognized him, even with sunglasses.

With a "buzz," the reporters swarmed up like flies seeing a cake, surrounding him.

"Hey! Zhang Jun, tell us how you're feeling!" A short reporter grabbed Zhang Jun and asked the first question. Other reporters took the opportunity to take pictures.

Zhang Jun, who had been unresponsive, was enraged by this somewhat theatrical question. He turned his head and glared at the other person, but he didn't say anything dirty. After glaring at the other person for a few seconds, he continued to walk towards the exit. Qiu Suhui said he would pick him up, but there were too many people now and he couldn't see Qiu Suhui.

The reporter continued to pester Zhang Jun relentlessly: "Don't be silent. Let the fans across the country who care about you know how you're feeling right now!"

These words were really cold-blooded. Zhang Jun couldn't take it anymore. He suddenly turned around and grabbed the other person's collar, shouting loudly at him: "The way I'm feeling right now is that I want to f*** you, you son of a b****!" Then he waved his hand and pushed the reporter to the ground!

Zhang Jun's outburst came suddenly, and everyone around was stunned. No one stepped forward to stop him, but many people's cameras faithfully recorded the whole process.

The reporter who had been pushed to the ground was also stunned for a moment, but he quickly curled up on the ground, moaning in great pain, as if Zhang Jun had shattered his internal organs with one palm.

Zhang Jun ignored him and turned to walk straight out.

Seeing that Zhang Jun was leaving, the "victim" quickly pointed at his back while on the ground and shouted: "Stop! You stop for me! You think you can just leave after hitting someone? Just because you're a star doesn't mean you can hit people! I'm going to sue you!"

Zhang Jun still ignored him and continued to walk forward. When the reporters reacted and wanted to chase after him, they were stopped by several airport security guards. The flashing lights only revealed an inscrutable back view.

※※※

Zhang Jun's first words to Qiu Suhui when he met him at a coffee shop in the airport waiting hall were: "Qiu Zhi, is there a flight to Luoyang soon? I want to go back immediately!"

Qiu Suhui first persuaded Zhang Jun to calm down, and then called someone to buy a ticket.

Zhang Jun sat alone in a chair, his backpack thrown aside. He stared blankly at the crowds of people coming and going in the waiting hall, not thinking about anything.

He had already forgotten the unpleasantness that had happened at the exit, as if it had never happened.

Going home was the only thought in his mind now.

"The ticket is booked. It's in two hours. You should rest. Don't be too sad. I don't think you've closed your eyes these last few days, have you?" Qiu Suhui sat down to comfort Zhang Jun. After taking off his sunglasses, his bloodshot eyes were frighteningly red.

"I'm not tired..." Zhang Jun shook his head and said slowly.

Qiu Suhui knew that he couldn't persuade this stubborn kid, so he could only sigh helplessly. It seemed that this accident had hit him hard.

※※※

When Zhang Jun's plane landed at Luoyang Airport, the special car sent by the Luoyang Municipal Government had been waiting outside the airport for a long time. In order to avoid being harassed by reporters again, he was escorted by airport security guards directly from a side door to the car, and then sped along the airport road towards the city.

As the black Passat drove into the familiar neighborhood gate, Zhang Jun could already feel the sadness that was everywhere.

Wreaths, elegiac couplets, and obituaries were all shattering the last bit of luck in his heart.

If this was just a joke, then the cost was too high.

People in the courtyard saw the black car drive in and looked at the people inside with sympathetic eyes. They all knew that Zhang Jun was back.

The Passat didn't stop until it reached the building where Zhang Jun's home was located. Before the car came to a complete stop, Zhang Jun opened the door and jumped out of the car.

Standing in the familiar environment, he was met with unfamiliar sadness. He looked around. In front of him, some people were busy tying black gauze and silk flowers to the temporary mourning hall. It was his uncle who had rushed over from his old home in Sichuan who was doing all of this himself. The wind blew his gray hair into a mess, and in the deep autumn of the north, he was only wearing a thin sweater.

"Uncle," he walked forward and called softly.

The uncle turned around and saw that it was Zhang Jun. He quickly put down the work in his hand and patted him on the shoulder: "Go inside and kowtow to your dad."

Now wasn't the time to believe or not. Zhang Jun nodded, then put down his backpack and walked into the dim mourning hall.

The first thing he saw was his father's portrait facing him. It wasn't the traditional concept of a portrait, but a half-profile smiling expression. A pair of candles under the photo were the only light source in the mourning hall. The flickering candlelight made his father's face look yellow and unreal.

"Because your dad passed away in a car accident, so... although he took a lot of pictures, he took very few of himself, so we couldn't find one that fit the portrait, so we had to use this one instead," his uncle explained from behind, then lit three incense sticks and handed them to Zhang Jun, and retreated to the side.

Zhang Jun held the incense sticks in both hands under the candlelight and knelt on the ground. After bowing a few times, he inserted the incense sticks into the small incense burner, then pressed his hands on the ground and lowered his head.

One, two, three.

He kowtowed three times. Zhang Jun had never had this experience before. He didn't even know if what he had just done was right. Until now, the sadness in his heart was far less than he had imagined. Was he cold-blooded? He even asked himself this in his heart while kowtowing.

"Go up and see your mom," his uncle said to him after he stood up. Zhang Jun nodded, picked up his backpack, and walked towards the stairwell. Behind him, his uncle continued to hang black gauze and silk flowers.

His home was on the fourth floor. Zhang Jun walked up layer by layer with his head down. When he reached the third floor, he realized that it was much noisier than usual.

The door to his home was open, and many people were gathered there. It was estimated that there wasn't enough room to sit inside, so they were squeezed outside.

Someone saw Zhang Jun and silently made way for him.

Zhang Jun squeezed into the house through the narrow gap.

He saw his haggard mother in the bedroom. His mother was sitting on the sofa with a pale face, and Sophie's mother was holding her hand.

"Mom, I... I'm back," Zhang Jun didn't know what to say, so he just stood there dumbly.

His mother looked up at Zhang Jun, and tears couldn't help but flow out again. Seeing his mother cry, Zhang Jun felt a little at a loss. In his memory, his strong-willed mother had never cried in front of him, her son.

"Don't be like this..." The aunt on the side took out a tissue to wipe away her tears and comforted her softly, "Don't cry in front of the child."

His mother nodded and really stopped crying. She raised her hand to signal Zhang Jun to sit over, and Zhang Jun obediently sat beside her.

"Are you tired? Have you eaten? Your eyes are so red, go and rest for a while," his mother asked, without mentioning his father's death. Her voice was trembling slightly as she tried to show strength in front of her son.

"No, I'm not tired, and I don't want to eat. Mom, my dad, he... how... how did he die?" This was the question Zhang Jun wanted to know the most now.

His mother hesitated for a moment, but still told her son: "He and a few friends drove to Baiyun Mountain to sketch, but they encountered an overloaded bus on the winding mountain road. In order to avoid them, they accidentally overturned..." She couldn't continue, because every time she said it, it meant that she had to recall the details that she didn't want to remember.

There was no need to say any more, Zhang Jun already understood. Just like his uncle said, it was a car accident that happened every day all over the world. People die in car accidents every day in this world, but why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be my dad?

Zhang Jun tightened the straps of his backpack with both hands.

The bedroom wasn't as noisy as the living room outside. There were only the three of them. When the door was closed, it was very quiet. None of the three spoke until someone pushed the door open and broke the awkward silence.

Sophie stood at the door with a thermos of hot water, looking at Zhang Jun. Zhang Jun also looked at her. The two only looked at each other for a short two seconds. Sophie closed the door behind her and put the water bottle on the table with her head down.

"The hot water is ready, Mom," Sophie said softly.

The aunt nodded: "Go and rest for a while, it will be even more tiring at night."

Sophie glanced at Zhang Jun again, then nodded and turned to go out. Zhang Jun noticed that Sophie's eyes were the same as his - full of bloodshot.

After Sophie left, the aunt said to Zhang Jun: "You should go and get some sleep too. You still have to keep vigil tonight."

After getting home and seeing his mother and Sophie, Zhang Jun felt half of his worries relieved. Now that he was reminded by his aunt, he really felt a burst of sleepiness. He hadn't rested properly for two days, and he really needed to sleep now. He stood up: "Mom, I'm going to sleep. You should rest too, take care of your health, don't be too... too sad," he said, biting his lip.

His mother nodded and said nothing.

"Then I'll go. Aunt, I'll have to trouble you to take care of my mom."

"Okay, it's okay, go ahead," the aunt waved her hand.

Zhang Jun picked up his bag and walked out, from the quiet bedroom to the somewhat noisy living room. Sophie's father was busy greeting the guests who came to offer condolences. He didn't see him. Looking at the people coming and going, Zhang Jun felt dizzy and his chest felt tight, making him want to vomit.

Without even saying hello to his uncle, he pushed open the door to his bedroom, locked it again, and then fell on the bed.

Smelling the familiar scent on the bed and listening to the murmurs coming from the living room, Zhang Jun closed his eyes. He still didn't cry.

※※※

He slept until evening. After getting up and washing up briefly, the two families and the uncle who came from their hometown to offer condolences and help sat down to eat a simple meal. The uncle was a chef and had great skills. Zhang Jun liked to go back to his hometown for the New Year and eat the dishes he made. But during this meal, the chef was not in the mood to cook, and the diners were not in the mood to taste. After the meal, the adults comforted his mother upstairs and discussed how to handle Zhang Jun's father's funeral. Sophie helped take care of other guests, boiling water, making tea, and serving food. Zhang Jun went to the mourning hall in the courtyard to keep vigil.

The mourning hall at night had two more light bulbs than during the day, one inside and one outside. The orange-yellow light penetrated the darkness, illuminating the surrounding area within a radius of five meters. Under this light, four tables of mahjong had been set up. Most of the people in this courtyard were railway workers who had moved from Sichuan to build Luoyang, so they liked to play mahjong, and nothing could stop them from gathering together to build the Great Wall. Neighbors from nearby were "fighting all night," making the sound of mahjong clattering.

Zhang Jun walked straight into the mourning hall, then lowered the cloth curtain and sat in front of his father's portrait. It was dark here during the day, and now he noticed that there was a severely damaged Nikon camera next to it.

This should be the camera that Dad had with him at the time...

Sitting alone next to a corpse, Zhang Jun wasn't afraid at all, because it was his dad. Zhang Jun had heard many ghost stories and watched many horror movies before, such as zombies and return of the souls, and he was very scared at the time. Now, just because the person lying on the side covered with mourning clothes was his dad, his closest and dearest dad, he felt very safe and at ease.

The cloth curtain was lifted and Sophie came in.

"I knew you were here," Sophie tried to comfort Zhang Jun with a smile, but she tried several times and just couldn't smile. Zhang Jun smiled slightly instead: "Why did you come down?"

"I brought two bottles of water down, afraid they wouldn't have any water to drink," Sophie pointed to herself behind her. Another sound of mahjong being shuffled came, not knowing who had won another game.

Then there was silence in the room.

Sophie felt very awkward, so she made an excuse to leave: "I... I'm going up to boil water."

As soon as she turned around, Zhang Jun grabbed her: "Accompany me for a walk, okay?"

※※※

"Sophie, I find it strange. I'm still very calm in my heart. I'm not as sad as they imagined... But the person who passed away was my dad, and I haven't even cried once. Do you think I'm too cold-blooded?" Zhang Jun sat on the edge of a roadside flower bed, watching the traffic and crowds, and people constantly crossing the road without using the crosswalk.

"It's not like that, Zhang Jun," Sophie tried to comfort Zhang Jun. "Actually, I know that you must be feeling..."

"When I heard my mom say it, I thought it was a joke. You know my dad is someone who likes to joke," Zhang Jun ignored Sophie and said to himself. "Since I was little, my mom has been busy with business outside, and my relationship with my dad is even better than my relationship with my mom. He took me everywhere to play and took pictures of me to record my growth. He was the one who taught me how to play football... Most of the time, we're not like father and son, but more like friends."

Zhang Jun still hadn't remembered what day his father's birthday was, and he didn't know what brand of cigarettes he liked to smoke. A long time ago, he thought he had the best relationship with his dad, so he wouldn't forget many things. But now it seemed that he had almost forgotten everything. When he was playing football, many photos were taken by his dad, but there were very few photos of the two of them together.

His uncle said that his dad took so many pictures, but there were few of himself. Zhang Jun thought about it, and he rarely took the initiative to ask his dad, who was always holding the camera, to take a picture with him.

When he was in school, his mind was only filled with friendship and love, and he put family in third place. He always prided himself on having a group of good friends, and he also felt lucky to have a girlfriend like Sophie. Later, he worked and played professional football, which made him a star. He spent eleven months of the year outside. It was hard to come back once, but he was busy with various commercial contracts and social activities, as well as national team and national youth team training. In the past three years, the actual time he spent at home was probably only more than a month.

His mother hoped that he would stay at home for a few more days, but his dad would say that it was his son's job and that he should do it. He also thought that what his dad said made sense and that his mom was too long-winded. Yes, shooting commercials was work, attending various press conferences was work, participating in team training was work, and being an ambassador for charity was also work. He was busy, so busy that he didn't have time to spend time with his parents, watch TV with them, take a walk with them, or take them to the park to take pictures. He was now a public figure, and he gave all of his time to the public, satisfying the public's desire to pry, so much so that this satisfaction made him sacrifice his family. Sometimes he would feel that this didn't seem very good, but most of the time he was complacent about this fame, so he would deliberately show this busyness in front of his family.

Anyway, there was still a long time to come. He was only twenty-four years old now. When he retired, he would spend more time with his parents and Sophie. At that time, there would still be two-thirds of his life left, enough for him to enjoy.

But what about now? Only a quarter of his life had passed, and he had already lost an important loved one forever. He didn't dare to imagine what kind of changes would happen in the future.

He was lazy and always pushed things that could be done today to tomorrow, and then to another tomorrow. He called it a plan. But when that tomorrow, tomorrow, and another tomorrow came, he was a little terrified to find that it was different from what he had planned.

Whether it was watching TV, movies, reading books, or listening to others, he knew that he had to cherish everything in front of him. He knew and understood the meaning of these words, but he had never put them into practice. And now that he had lost it, he realized that the old saying "what is lost is the most precious" was definitely not empty talk.

When he called home, he could be perfunctory. When he came home, he always looked forward to finding those friends. He knew that family was very, very important, but he wasn't willing to cherish it, even making the pretense of cherishing it was being stingy. Was it just because family was too familiar to each of them? So familiar that they didn't know how to cherish it anymore.

Why do people always repeat the mistakes of others?

His dad was gone, and now his mom and Sophie were the most precious people in his life. He didn't want to make the same mistake again.

Looking at Sophie next to him, she was obviously much thinner than the last time he saw her, and she had lost weight during this time. She had also worked hard for his dad's affairs. Having such a girl by his side was a blessing for a lifetime. He remembered when he was in high school, Yang Pan's grandmother passed away, and he was immersed in endless memories for a whole day, and he was in a very bad mood. Sophie was the one who silently accompanied him, without saying anything, but as soon as he turned his head, he was moved - there was such a person, whether you were proud or lost, whether you were happy or in pain, was by your side - at that time, he had an impulse to hug Sophie, but they were still young at that time and afraid of being gossiped about, so he just reached out and helped her tidy up her collar. Today was different, he wanted to hold this happiness in his arms now.

"Sophie, can you let me hug you?" Zhang Jun said in a hoarse voice.

Sophie obediently snuggled over, and Zhang Jun opened his arms and hugged her tightly, feeling Sophie's body temperature, heartbeat, and breathing.

"When can you come to Italy, Sophie?"

"I... I don't know, I'm still doing an internship."

"I think of you every day in Italy. You're too far away from me, and I'm afraid of losing you..." Zhang Jun rubbed Sophie's hair with his face and said softly.

"Zhang Jun, I love you."

"I know, I know... People always told me to cherish the people around me, but I didn't take it seriously. Now it's too late to regret it. So I..." Zhang Jun put his mouth to Sophie's ear and murmured.

"Don't worry about me, I'll take good care of myself. I'm working hard at the newspaper, just hoping to go to Italy soon and be with you. I think of you every day too. But we all have our own careers, don't we?" Sophie took Zhang Jun's hand that was around her waist. She didn't need to say anything more, this action explained everything.

Zhang Jun understood in his heart that a week would pass quickly, and when he left, he wouldn't be back until next spring. He just wanted to hold Sophie in his arms now and resist the cold night in the north.

Sophie felt Zhang Jun's arms around her tighten.

※※※

After keeping vigil all night, Zhang Jun forced himself to face the members of the condolence group from all fronts. There were municipal leaders, clients from commercial contracts, relatives and friends, and his own teachers and coaches. They came one by one, some were very sad, and some were just pretending to be sad. Zhang Jun saw it all in his eyes. He was surprised that he could still calmly analyze their purpose in coming. Some people wanted to show their sympathy in front of the media, others wanted to win his favor in order to make the future implementation of the contract more effective, and still others came just to build a relationship with the star Zhang Jun, get close, and curry favor.

Take care, take care. This was the sentence that everyone said to him the most, but the expression on his face was really not in line with the mood of the words. There was no obvious sadness on his face, and it could even be said that he was expressionless. Zhang Jun was a little panicked. He didn't know why this was happening. He couldn't control his facial expressions as freely as those people, crying when he was told to cry and smiling when he was told to smile, and never hesitating when he should shed tears.

He couldn't do it, so was it really that he wasn't sad enough in his heart? His dad had died, but he couldn't cry, why? Even crying secretly didn't happen, and he didn't have time to think about whether he was cold-blooded.

Until that day, his father was carried onto the hearse, and he followed, holding the portrait, sitting on the side. When his father was still by his side, even if it was just a cold body, he felt that it was his dad, and that he hadn't left him yet. But now his dad was about to be pushed into the crematorium, and what would come out would only be a box of ashes.

As soon as he thought of this, Zhang Jun suddenly felt a pang in his nose.

His mother sat opposite him, looking at her husband lying quietly, not crying, just murmuring: "Wei Guo, you're leaving. We'll see you off one last time. You have to bless your son up there, so that he'll be safe and healthy..."

Listening to his mother's soft muttering as if she was talking to herself, Zhang Jun felt another pang in his nose. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, his eyes were already blurry.

Zhang Jun blinked hard, not wanting to cry. But after he blinked a few times, two lines of tears flowed down unceremoniously.

He finally cried, he thought he really wouldn't cry.

In the past, his dad would often carry a big bag and say that he was going on a long trip, but he would say when he would come home. But this time, once he left, he would never come back.

Dad, are you leaving now? Are you not coming back? Are you willing to go? Sophie still wants to learn how to cook from you, and didn't you say you wanted to sell my autograph for money? But I haven't had time to sign it for you yet... Who am I going to joke with in the future? Dad...

Tears fell like broken beads, wetting the floor under his feet.

※※※

When the crematorium worker handed the wooden urn to Zhang Jun, his hands were shaking. In order not to let the urn fall, he had to hold the box in his arms.

When he went in, he was still a tall man of one meter and eight, so how did he turn into ashes when he came out, and was put in this box that looked like a small drawer?

Zhang Jun looked at this black box and couldn't associate it with his dad, who was always smiling.

Next to him, another family, wearing sackcloth and mourning, squeezed to the window, crying, waiting to receive their loved one. Zhang Jun wiped his eyes and vaguely saw his own expression on their faces, as if he was looking in a mirror.

Why are there so many kinds of happiness in this world, but all sadness is the same?

※※※

His dad's ashes were not placed in the Mangshan Cemetery in Luoyang, although there was a saying that "born in Suzhou and Hangzhou, buried in Beiman," his mother insisted on taking his dad back to his old home in Sichuan, saying that the fallen leaves should return to their roots.

After Zhang Jun and Sophie had considered it together that day, he wanted to take his mother to Milan for a period of time to relax. She could leave the business in the store to someone else to manage temporarily. He owed his parents too much in the past, and now he wanted to make up for it.

But his mother refused this suggestion. She wanted to go back to her old home in Sichuan for a period of time, and also take his dad's ashes back. In addition, Sophie was also going back to Chengdu to work, so they would be on the same road as his uncle and the others.

Zhang Jun couldn't persuade her, so he had to agree. But he said that he would definitely take his mother to Italy in the future.

A week's vacation ended quickly, and Zhang Jun had to go back to Milan. His mother, accompanied by his uncle and Sophie, went back to their old home in Sichuan. The Luoyang home, which had been noisy for a week, was suddenly empty, and the courtyard was restored to its former tranquility. The mourning hall, wreaths, and elegiac couplets all disappeared overnight, and only the obituary on the wall, with a corner blown off by the fierce north wind of Luoyang, was still telling passersby how lively it had once been here.

※※※

Unlike when he came, when the reporters surrounded him, Zhang Jun stood in the airport waiting hall with a tired expression on his face, but he felt a little relaxed in his heart - at least he didn't have to face those annoying reporters anymore.

Passing by a newsstand, he bought a newspaper, planning to pass the time on the plane.

But when he opened the sports section, he saw a photo of himself reaching out to push down a reporter. The headline next to the photo was frighteningly eye-catching:

"Soccer Star Zhang Jun Uses Violence, Assaults Innocent Reporter!"