Chapter 311 - I Don't Know Anything Anymore

Qing Chen was seven years old and was awakened by the sound of his mother's voice from the hallway. That was how she always woke them up, by singing in the hallways. Their rooms lined the right side of the second floor of their old house.

His mother was not the best singer but they loved hearing her voice in the morning. It was nice that it was her face that they first saw everyday.

"Good morning, my sweet Chen," she said, peeking her head on his door. "Did you sleep well?"

"I'm good, mom. How was your sleep?" he asked.

"I slept great! Breakfast is ready."

Then she would disappear to go to Wuming's room. Qing Chen would go to his bathroom, wash his face and brush his teeth. Clad in his pajamas, he headed to the dining area where he found his father already smoking a pipe while reading the paper.

Wuming and Qing Lok were already there, playing with the new toys that they got the night before.

"Aw," his mother took his face in her hand. "You don't look so well."

"I'm fine," he said. "I'm just hungry," he answered and started putting food in his mouth. He was not feeling his best but he thought it was just because he slept too long. He got into bed too early last night.

But after taking a bath, his body felt too warm. His mother loved dropping them off to school. They all sat in the back of the limousine and talked about what should happen for the rest of the day.

"Do you want to go home?" his mother asked. "You're getting a fever."

"It's nothing," Qing Chen swiped her hand from his hair. "I think I won't get sick until tonight."

"Mother," said Wuming. "Aren't you going to ask me? I want to go home."

Their mother laughed. "But you're not sick."

"I AM SICK," insisted Wuming. "Feel my forehead! I am warm."

Their mother humored her firstborn. "Yeah, you are sick," she said and touched Qing Lok too. "You're sick too! What are we supposed to do now?!"

"Go home," said the snotting Qing Lok.

Qing Chen remembered looking at his mother and she smiled at him. 

"You know what, boys?" their mother said and they all looked up to her. "Let's not go to school today. Let's have some fun. Let's beat that sickness out of the three of you."

"But where are we going?" asked Qing Chen. "I have school. It's art day today."

His mother smiled at him and engulfed him in a one-arm hug, "I'll teach you to paint later when we get home. For now… let's go to the beach!"

"Beach, beach, beach!" Wuming already took off his school uniform and Qing Lok followed his chant.

Qing Chen felt too sick to celebrate. They stopped by on a drugstore to get some medicine for him before making their way to the beach.

"I don't think we're supposed to be here, Mother," said Wuming.

The place was barren. It didn't look like anyone wanted to swim here.

"It's your father's property," said Mother. "Of course, we're allowed."

Their mother was very fond of beaches. She loved the water and the sun. Once, they told her that it reminded her of home. That was one of the many reasons why their father invested in beachside houses and created too many resorts. It was all for Mother.

As Mother loved swimming, they had been to many places already. But Qing Chen would never forget the sand in this place.

It was light beige and it was the finest sand his feet had sunk to. It almost felt like it was swallowing his feet. 

"Stay near the shore, my loves!" shouted Mother when Qing Lok and Wuming took off, wearing their shorts. "Aren't you going to play, Chen?"

"I feel sick," he finally admitted. 

"Aw, then we're just going to sit here and bask in the sun, okay? We're going to watch your brothers."

He nodded and despite the warmth, his mother cuddled her, putting her arms around him as they sit on the sand. He took a book with him but he felt so tired that his eyes fluttered close less than fifteen minutes. 

Around lunchtime, their father arrive at the scene. Her mother was so joyous when she saw that he brought food with him.

"What's wrong with you, kid?" his father asked when he saw that his son was lame. 

"He's sick," Mother answered for him.

"Oh no, you're not," their father grinned and before Qing Chen could get away. Their father wrapped his strong arms around him and tossed him over his shoulders, running to the water.

"Father, no!" Qing Chen protested but he was already laughing. Then the next moment, he was dumped in the water. He rose up, wiping the saltwater off his face.

"Release the heat, son," his father nodded at him. "Have a nice swim."

Qing Chen did not know what cured him that day, his happiness or the water. But it didn't matter. Because that day they were the perfect family. He had a mother who took them to the beach instead of the school. He had a busy father who took the time off the rest of the day to be with his wife and sons.

Now, back in the Qing's residence, Qing Chen dropped to his knees and Qing Lok slid down the floor. They both recognized the sand. There was no way this was his mother's ashes. Qing Chen swallowed a growing lump on his throat.

"Father knew," concluded Qing Chen. "It's not possible that he did not know. Father knew that she was not dead."

Qing Lok pressed his hands to his forehead and released a shaky breath. What else was a lie in this house? he asked himself.

"Where's Wuming?" Qing Chen asked, trying to control his emotions.

"I don't know," Qing Lok answered. "I don't know anything anymore."