In the fiery red era of the heavens, refrigerators are refreshed daily.

Chapter 71. Parting Entrustment
Yang Guangming looked at Chu Dahu's bulging cheeks and his eyes that shone brightly under the oil, and then looked at Yan Jun next to him. Although he was still silent, he was at least looking down and eating the goose leg very seriously.

The heavy weight in his heart seemed to have been quietly melted away by the rough yet sincere affection before him.

He silently added braised beef, braised duck gizzards, and drunken chicken pieces to the oil paper in front of the two of them, time and time again.

It was as if they wanted to silently stuff all the heavy brotherhood, all the blessings and reluctance, into Chu Dahu's seemingly bottomless stomach, so that he could set off on his journey with this fullness and warmth.

The "battlefield" on the stone table gradually subsided.

Only a few scattered, dark brown bits of braised beef remained, stubbornly clinging to the rough oil paper; the roast goose was reduced to a smooth skeleton and a few scattered, dull, crispy skin pieces; the boxes of braised duck gizzards and drunken chicken were also empty, leaving only a strong aroma of soy sauce and wine.

Chu Dahu let out a loud, satisfied burp, the sound particularly clear in the quiet shade of the trees.

He leaned against the cool stone bench, his body relaxed and sprawled out. His hands rubbed his slightly protruding belly, which resembled a small hill, with a satisfied look on his face. It was a pure, almost childlike satisfaction. All the sorrow of parting seemed to have been temporarily suppressed to the bottom of his stomach by this full meal.

"That feels so good! That feels fucking good!"

He let out a long sigh, a resonant hum echoing from his chest. "This meat is enough for me to crave for a year back in the countryside! It'll make my mouth water!"

He smacked his lips, his thick tongue licking his glossy lips with lingering satisfaction, still trying to savor the last trace of flavor.

Yan Jun put down the clean, smooth bone he had gnawed clean, leaving not a trace of meat or tendon. He took the clean tissue paper that Yang Guangming handed him, lowered his head, and carefully wiped it with each finger, as if trying to erase all the greasy traces and the traces of his brief indulgence.

Look at the sun; the shadows cast by the sycamore trees have become noticeably longer, and the light spots have become sparse.

Yan Jun pulled out the old pocket watch from his pocket; it was worn smooth and shiny, with even some dents on the edges.

Chu Dahu also leaned closer to check the time and said gruffly, "It's almost one o'clock, I have to go to the dock! I agreed to help unload the last two truckloads of goods this afternoon, and I can earn a few extra cents! This is the last bit of money I'll earn in the city!"

He suddenly stood up, his movements carrying a deliberate nonchalance, and vigorously patted the dust and grass clippings off his backside, as if trying to erase all traces of the city.

Yan Jun also silently stood up, packed up the oil paper bag he had brought, which was now empty, and carefully folded it. His voice was still a little muffled, as if covered by a layer of cloth: "I have to go back to the shop too. I still have to take inventory this afternoon. It's almost the end of the month."

Chu Dahu strode up to Yang Guangming, grinned, revealing his signature set of white teeth, and placed his large, fan-like hand heavily on Yang Guangming's shoulder with his usual force. His eyes held the usual mischievousness, but also a rare hint of seriousness.

"Comrade! Next time we get together, you're treating! The scale can't be any smaller than today's! And just so you know, I want braised pork belly and a big pork hock! The fatty kind!"

The tone was resolute, as if they would see each other again tomorrow, as if the separation was merely the prelude to the next gathering.

Yang Guangming smiled, but complex emotions surged in his chest. He gripped Chu Dahu's forearm, which was as strong as an old tree root, and felt the power surging beneath the skin.

"Okay! No problem! Leave it to me! Tiger Head, have a safe trip! Once you get there and settled in, write to me! I'll reply with your new address!"

He then turned to Yan Jun, his voice softening, "Yan Jun, you too, if you have any problems, just come to the factory and find me. Don't be embarrassed." The three of them silently tidied up the mess on the stone table, crumpled the greasy straw paper into balls, and stuffed them into the now empty and greasy "Red Star State Cotton Mill" kraft paper bag.

The warm breeze of early summer, carrying the scent of grass and the lingering aroma of meat, brushed against their young faces, which were already beginning to taste the bitterness of parting.

The three walked silently toward the park entrance along the familiar path they had walked countless times, path strewn with fallen sycamore leaves.

Yang Guangming carried that light, yet seemingly heavy, empty brown paper bag, his footsteps sounding exceptionally clear in the silence.

As you approach the park's rusty iron fence entrance, the hustle and bustle of traffic rushes in like a tidal wave, with car horns, bicycle bells, and pedestrian noise all merging into a massive soundscape.

Yan Jun stopped, took out his old pocket watch again, glanced at it, nodded hurriedly to Yang Guangming and Chu Dahu, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he only made a simple wave.

His thin, paper-thin figure quickly and silently merged into the bustling crowd, moving towards the grocery store, like a drop of water merging into a rushing river, becoming indistinguishable in the blink of an eye.

Only Yang Guangming and Chu Dahu remained, standing face to face at the bustling intersection.

Chu Dahu bent down and lifted his bulging, patched coarse cloth bag as easily as lifting a bundle of straw, casually tossing it onto his broad, door-like shoulders with a dull thud.

He turned around to face the bright sunlight, and the playful smile and feigned carefree attitude on his face vanished completely at that moment.

His eyes became unusually clear, like the sky after a rain, staring straight at the bright sunlight with a solemnity rarely seen in his daily life.

"Obviously."

He spoke, his voice much lower, even with a barely perceptible hoarseness, each word seeming to be squeezed out from the depths of his chest, "I'm leaving."

He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing, his gaze passing over Yang Guangming's shoulder, as if looking towards a familiar address deep within the alley.

"Inside the house... my parents are getting old and their health isn't very good... and there are three young children under them..."

His voice was even lower, carrying a heavy plea, "In case, I mean in case, if there's any difficulty at home, any insurmountable obstacle... could you... please look after them for me?"

I'm too far away to reach you.

These words seemed to have been carved from the softest yet hardest part of his heart; they were the heaviest entrustment he could give at this moment.

Yang Guangming felt a sudden jolt, as if he had been struck by a heavy hammer.

He looked at Chu Dahu's face, which was extremely serious and even showed a hint of vulnerability, with worry that he tried his best to hide beneath the rugged lines.

(End of this chapter)