Stop it, the country really can't fit any more bans on the domestic entertainment industry.

However, before turning himself in, he had to do something one last time.

In that cramped and dimly lit secondhand house, the air was heavy, almost frozen, with only the ticking of the wall clock marking the countdown for the family.

"Splash!"

The middle-aged man took out an iron box.

He rummaged through the room for a while and found the only cash left in the house, more than 30,000 yuan, which was originally intended for buying New Year's goods and giving red envelopes to the children.

Then, he pulled out a somewhat worn China Construction Bank card.

The man took a deep breath, turned around, found a yellowed kraft paper envelope, and stuffed the stack of red banknotes and bank cards into it.

He found a pen and wrote six numbers heavily on the back of the envelope—that was his bank card PIN.

After doing all this, he placed the envelope on the most conspicuous TV cabinet in the living room, and even used the old remote control to weigh down one corner of it.

"Old woman."

The man turned his head and looked at his wife, who was wiping the old man's face. His voice was terribly hoarse.

"This is all the money we have."

"There's still over 40,000 in the card, plus this 30,000 in cash, making a total of over 70,000."

"Put it in this conspicuous place so that when we're all inside, the police can call our son back and he'll see it immediately."

The daughter-in-law paused for a moment while wiping her father-in-law's face.

She didn't cry out loud, but her shoulders heaved violently a few times before she silently nodded.

She turned around and pulled out a navy blue Zhongshan suit from the bottom of the wardrobe.

That was the old man's favorite outfit when he was young. He would never wear it normally, only on holidays or when there were weddings or funerals in the village.

"Dad, let's wear new clothes."

With tears in her eyes, the daughter-in-law spoke softly to the old man who was still sitting on the bed, grinning foolishly, as if coaxing a child:

"Let's dress smartly and go out."

Although the old man's mind was not clear, he was still very happy to see the new clothes.

He was like an obedient big child, letting his daughter-in-law do as she pleased, even stretching out his arms in cooperation, humming a military song tune from who-knows-when indistinctly.

Seeing this scene, the middle-aged man felt a tightness in his chest, as if a wad of wet cotton had been stuffed inside him.

He turned around and took out his phone.

The phone with its shattered screen seemed especially heavy at that moment.

He hesitated for a long time, his finger hovering over the contact name "Son" for a long time before finally pressing the call button.

"Beep—beep—"

The phone rang several times before it was answered.

"Hey? Dad? Why are you calling at this hour? I'm delivering takeout, and this order is about to be late."

On the other end of the phone, I heard my son's hurried, whistling voice, with the background noise of the city and car horns.

The moment he heard his son's voice, the middle-aged man felt a sudden pang of sadness, and tears almost welled up in his eyes.

But he bit his lip hard, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and tried his best to make his voice sound normal.

"Ah...nothing, I just wanted to ask if you've eaten yet?"

"I've eaten, I just managed to grab a couple of bites. Dad, is everything alright at home? Grandpa's fine, isn't he?" the son called out from the other end of the line.

"Okay, everything is fine."

The middle-aged man looked at his elderly father, dressed in a brand-new Zhongshan suit, saluting in front of the mirror, and his voice choked with emotion:

"Your grandfather... he's in good health."

"That's fine then. Dad, I'm not talking to you anymore, this order is really too late, I'm hanging up!"

"Hey, wait a minute!"

Seeing that his son was about to hang up, the middle-aged man hurriedly called out.

"What's wrong, Dad? You need more money? I just got paid and was just about to transfer two thousand to you."

"It's free, it's free."

The middle-aged man took a deep breath, his hands gripping the hem of his clothes so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

He knew this might be the last time he spoke to his son before going in.

"My son."

His tone became unusually calm, almost unnaturally calm:

"Take good care of yourself while you're out there. Don't overwork yourself; your health is the most important thing."

"And... don't worry about home so much anymore. Everything's fine there, you don't need to worry about it."

"You're an adult now, and from now on... you'll have to learn to grow up on your own."

The wind on the other end of the phone seemed to have subsided a bit.

The son clearly noticed the change in his father's tone and asked with some confusion, "Dad, what's wrong? Why are you talking so strangely? Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing, what could possibly happen?"

The middle-aged man forced a smile, though it looked more like a grimace. "I was just watching TV, watching a scene about parting, and it touched me a bit. Okay, you're busy now, bye."

After saying that, he hung up the phone without waiting for his son to ask any more questions.

"beep."

As the busy signal sounded, the tension that had been building up in the middle-aged man finally snapped.

He held his phone, slowly squatted down, and covered his face with his hands.

There was no loud wailing, only silent tears, flowing freely through her fingers and dripping onto the dusty floor.

He didn't dare tell his son the truth.

He didn't want his son to know that his father was a coward who ran away out of fear, and he didn't want his son to bear the stigma of being the family of a bomber.

At least for now, let him deliver food in peace for a few more days.

A few minutes later.

The man stood up.

He went to the bathroom to wash his face, wiping away the tear stains and exhaustion, and straightened his slightly disheveled collar.

In the living room.

The daughter-in-law had already dressed the old man properly.

The old man, dressed in a Zhongshan suit, stood ramrod straight, as if he had returned to his days as a soldier, except that his eyes were still cloudy and his face wore a naive smile that was almost cruel.

The couple exchanged a glance.

At this moment, no words are needed.

They both saw a deep pain in each other's eyes, but even more so, a sense of relief at no longer having to hide like rats.

"Let's go."

The husband reached out and supported his elderly father's left arm.

His wife came over and supported his right arm.

"Dad, let's go for a walk," the husband said softly.

"Great! Let's take a stroll! Road repairs!" the old man exclaimed happily.

Upon hearing the words "road construction," the couple's hearts skipped a beat again, but this time, they did not run away.

"Click".

The door lock turned.

The security door, which had been tightly closed for several days, was finally slowly pushed open.

The sunlight outside was a bit dazzling, shining goldenly into the corridor, making it hard for people to open their eyes.

I've been running away for so many days, enduring so much darkness and fear.

They finally decided to take this step, to face their trial, and to bear the responsibility that had almost crushed them.