Cangmang Asks the Way 1: Guardian of the Lamp

Nancheng Daily News Office, late-night duty room.

Zheng Yaoxian sat in his office with two newly received faxes spread out in front of him.

A report from the construction site accident scene: "Partial collapse of the top floor, one person seriously injured, has been sent to the hospital."

A report from the city gymnasium stated: "During the provincial selection finals, young contestant Cang Tianci collapsed on the spot after winning, vomiting blood. He has been rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment and is currently in a coma."

As he looked at the two lines of text, a smile slowly crept onto his lips.

The smile was faint, yet as cold as a knife.

"Interesting. Accidents at both the construction site and the racetrack are a perfect match! Who knew that powdered sugar would be so effective? It's truly 'poison' for concrete!" he muttered to himself, feeling incredibly pleased.

He leaned back in his chair, his fingers lightly tapping the table, continuing to ponder:

As the foreman, Cang Lifeng is inextricably linked to the construction site accident. A hero? The fact that a hero's construction site collapsed is news in itself.

As for that boy... How about the headline "Teen Champion Overdraws His Life"? Or "Hero's Brother Spits Blood on the Field: Is it the Price of Honor or a Failure of Education"?

He picked up the phone, dialed a number, and said, "Old Chen, reserve a spot on the front page tomorrow. Yes, there's big news."

After hanging up, he dialed another number: "Uncle, have your people at the construction site taken care of everything?"

Song Jinrong's voice came from the other end of the phone: "Don't worry, Old Li's son is still with us. So far, Old Li is behaving very well. Even if he has turned against us, there's no direct evidence that he was behind it."

"Okay. Remember, this has nothing to do with us. It's the material supplier's problem, the construction team's problem, it doesn't matter whose problem it is, just not ours."

Zheng Yaoxian put down the phone, stood up, and walked to the window.

Outside the window was the night view of the southern part of the city, a tapestry of lights from countless homes. His gaze fell into the distance—in that direction was the First People's Hospital of the city.

"Cang Lifeng..." he murmured the name softly, as if savoring a dish. "You, a peasant, dare to call yourself a hero? You think being a hero is so easy? The higher you're praised, the harder you fall. Once I peel off your skin, let's see how Lin Wei will look at you then."

He smiled, turned around and went back to his desk to begin drafting tomorrow's manuscript.

---

The next morning, newspapers were displayed on newsstands throughout the streets and alleys of the southern city.

Front-page headline: "The Shadow of the Heroic Construction Site"

Subheading: "Young Champion Collapses on the Field, Hero's Brother Hangs by a Thread"

Newspapers were stuffed into mailboxes, thrown onto buses, and spread out on breakfast shop tables.

At a breakfast stall, people drank soy milk while curiously picking up newspapers from the table.

"That Cang Lifeng? The one who saved people in the bank?" someone asked.

"Yes, his brother also had an accident during yesterday's competition."

"Tsk, what kind of mess is this..."

"You said his construction site collapsed, is it related to him?"

"pretty close……"

"How can someone like this be considered a hero? He can't even manage his own construction site."

……

On the bus, a middle-aged woman holding a newspaper said to her companion, "See, I told you so. All heroes are just made up. Look at his brother, he beat himself up in a competition and ended up in the hospital. This family..."

His companion leaned over for a look, then clicked his tongue twice: "What kind of mess is this..."

At the newsstand, a bespectacled man flipped through a newspaper and shook his head: "These days, the news twists and turns faster than a TV drama."

As the stall owner collected the money, he said, "That's right, yesterday's hero, today's coward. Who knows what might happen tomorrow."

……

Discussions in the streets and alleys, like countless ants, began to crawl toward the name that had just been elevated to a pedestal.

At the same moment, at a newsstand on another street corner.

Lin Wei stood there, staring at the front page. She picked up a copy, paid for it, and clutched it tightly in her hand. The paper crumpled from her grip.

She didn't open it. She didn't need to see what was written on it. She just stood there, staring at the title for a long time.

Then she turned and walked towards the hospital. She clutched the newspaper tightly in her hand, not letting go.

Inside ward 203 of the First People's Hospital of Nancheng City, Cang Lifeng was unaware of everything that was happening outside. He hadn't slept all night, sitting by the bedside, holding his younger brother's hand.

Just then, the door was gently pushed open. Lin Wei walked in, holding a newspaper in her hand.

She walked to his side, hesitated for a moment, and then placed the newspaper on the bedside table.

"Lifeng, there's...someone's causing trouble outside." Her voice was very soft.

Cang Lifeng glanced down at the newspaper. On the front page, the three characters "Cang Lifeng" were placed alongside "collapse" and "accident".

He looked at it for a long time. Then he folded the newspaper and put it back on the bedside table. He continued to hold his brother's hand.

"Lin Wei," he said.

"Um?"

"Keep an eye on things for me. See who's behind this."

Lin Wei nodded: "I will."

She looked at his profile. Overnight, it seemed like he had a few more gray hairs at his temples. He was only twenty-five years old.

But she didn't say anything. She just sat down next to him and kept him company.

Sunlight streamed through the window and fell on the hospital bed. A new day had begun.

Cang Tianci still hasn't woken up.

---

At noon on May 18th, Cang Zhenye and Su Yumei arrived from Xiqiao Village.

When Su Yumei pushed open the ward door and saw her youngest son lying on the bed, she felt as if all her bones had been removed. Her legs went weak, and she almost collapsed to the ground, but Cang Zhenye caught her.

She struggled to move to the edge of the bed, wanting to hug her son, but dared not touch him because he had tubes inserted into his body. She could only kneel by the bed, holding his cold hand, and cry out:

"Tianci... my son... wake up... Mother is here... open your eyes and look at your mother..."

Cang Zhenye stood by the bed. He looked at his youngest son's pale face, his lips trembling. He wanted to speak, but couldn't utter a single word. He just stood there, like a weathered stone sculpture.

Cang Xiangyang and Cang Xiaohua stood to the side. Cang Xiangyang didn't speak, but stared intently at his younger brother's face. Cang Xiaohua had cried many times before, her eyes swollen like walnuts, but this time, she didn't cry. She simply stood beside her brother, holding his hand.

Cang Lifeng stood up, walked to his father, and said in a hoarse voice, "Dad, I'm sorry. I didn't take good care of him."

Cang Zhenye looked at him, at his tired face, at his red and swollen eyes, and at the few white hairs at his temples.

He didn't say anything, but simply reached out and patted his eldest son's shoulder twice, heavily. Those two pats were very strong.

Cang Lifeng's eyes reddened. He lowered his head, blinked hard, and tried to suppress the tears.

In the afternoon, the doctor came to check on me. He said the same thing again: we don't know when I'll wake up. Maybe a few days, maybe a few weeks, maybe longer.

Upon hearing this, Su Yumei swayed. She grabbed the doctor's hand: "Doctor, please, save my son. He's only fourteen..."

The doctor gently withdrew his hand and sighed, "Sister, we will do our best. But the rest is up to him."

Su Yumei didn't say anything more. She returned to the bedside and continued to hold her son's hand.

She started talking to her son.

He talked about Xiqiao Village, the locust tree in front of the old house, and how he used to stumble and run through the mud as a child. He talked about his eldest brother in Nancheng, and his second brother and third sister at the factory. He talked about his master on Eagle Cliff…

She believed her son could hear her.

---

In the evening, Wang Lide returned home. He held his son Nianfeng and sat on the edge of the bed. The little guy was over seven months old, had just learned to sit, and was waving his little hands and babbling.

His wife was folding clothes nearby. She looked up at him and said, "What's wrong with you today? You haven't said a word all night."

Wang Lide shook his head: "It's nothing. I'm just tired."

His wife didn't ask any more questions.

Nianfeng reached out, grabbed Wang Lide's index finger, and chuckled.

Looking at that little face, at those clear, innocent eyes, Wang Lide felt a sharp pang in his heart.

If I turn myself in, how will Nianfeng view me when he grows up? If I don't turn myself in, how will Nianfeng view me when he grows up and finds out what kind of person his father is?

He didn't know the answer.

He buried his face in his son's small shoulder, which trembled violently.