Are you asleep? I can't fall asleep.

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Uh.

Seeing that the elderly lady still somewhat recognized Chen Ze, Xu Liping and her daughter exchanged a surprised glance.

They had thought the old lady had forgotten them, though she still seemed not to remember.

Alzheimer’s is an illness, not purely forgetfulness; in its early stages, it manifests more as memory confusion.

It’s like a normal person’s life is lived in 2018, but the patient’s mind might be stuck in 2016, 2006, 1996, or even lack any sense of time.

The old lady had been ill for a year. The family had mostly gotten used to it; there was no need for sadness, and even if there was, it should be kept private.

Chen Ze looked at the old lady with a twinge of sadness. Just as he was about to approach and greet her, Xu Liping gave him a subtle signal and then lowered her head, saying:

“Comrade Jiang Guixiang, the children have come today to celebrate your birthday. Please sit here and rest first.”

“Ah?”

The old lady looked confusedly over, and Xu Jiarou reminded her it was her birthday today. It seemed she had forgotten again.

But Xu Liping had gradually gotten used to this outcome and calmly helped the old lady sit down in a loud, clear voice:

“Listen to me, this is an order from the organization.”

The old lady nodded suddenly in realization, prepared to stand, then sat upright properly, wiping the corner of her mouth as she said:

“Alright, I obey the organization’s arrangements.”

Under Xu Jiarou’s signal, Chen Ze, without a word, walked toward the dining room, feeling somewhat reassured.

The old lady seemed quite agreeable, unlike other patients who cried and fussed; her mood was fairly stable.

“Sorry to trouble you again.”

“No need to be polite.”

Xu Jiarou had bought some small decorations and hesitated about hanging them. Chen Ze’s arrival came just in time to provide free labor.

Xu Liping, after quietly settling the old lady down in his unique way, went off to help in the kitchen.

By around 7:30, five people sat around the small dining table, but with Chen Ze there, it didn’t feel empty.

“Chen Ze, help yourself to whatever you like.”

“I know, teacher, I won’t be polite.”

Chen Ze was indeed unreserved, immediately picking up his chopsticks to put a piece of stir-fried shrimp into his bowl, smiling as he said:

“This isn’t my first time visiting your home, but it’s my first time feeling such gratitude beyond words. Thank you, teacher and uncle, for your hospitality, and I wish grandma a long life as eternal as the Southern Mountains.”

Chen Ze smiled and bowed, which lightened the atmosphere considerably. Zhang Suyun put down her chopsticks with satisfaction and said:

“Don’t call me teacher at home.”

After all, this was grandma’s birthday, so Zhang Suyun’s words were appropriate—the theme of the meal had to be clear.

Chen Ze understood this well but couldn’t help but wonder: if not ‘teacher,’ then what should he call her?

Mom? That felt a bit inappropriate.

“Fine, then I’ll keep ‘teacher’ in my heart and call you aunt from now on. That way I can relax more; otherwise, I always think about those days when I was under orders, and it’s not good.”

Seeing Chen Ze say this, Zhang Suyun gave him a white look, opened her mouth but could only smile and scold:

“What days under orders? It was all for your own good. I think you’re getting cheekier by the day.”

Chen Ze wasn’t a bad student during his school days. Though not outstanding, his grades were decent.

If he took the college entrance exam, he wouldn’t get into Tsinghua or Peking University, but he could aim for 985 or 211 universities, with a first-tier university as a baseline. Even though he didn’t plan to take the exam, Zhang Suyun, as his English teacher, had been a significant help and naturally strict.

Recalling the past was always pleasant, and the group laughed together. Xu Liping quickly raised his tea and said:

“Comrade Jiang Guixiang, raise your cup.”

Between Xu Liping and Xu Jiarou, the old lady obediently stayed silent. After her son’s signal, she looked around cautiously and gently lifted the enamel cup.

“A water cup?”

The old lady asked, completing the arrangement. Xu Liping nodded in affirmation, then led the toast wishing grandma a happy birthday.

Chen Ze watched this scene and followed suit without showing anything special, then glanced back at the dining table.

Before coming, he had only thought of giving the old lady a birthday gift and leaving quickly, but since there were no outsiders here, he didn’t mind staying a bit longer.

Because their family was large, he had instinctively assumed the same about others’ families. Now, thinking back, Xu Jiarou seemed to have no uncles or aunts.

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Maybe there were, but living in the city made it inconvenient.

“Xiao Chen.”

Before the formal meal began, Xu Liping came over and called Chen Ze. In a rather good mood, he said:

“There’s no much alcohol at home, but if you can drink, then accompany your uncle to try the wine you brought.”

Because of Xu Liping’s special position, Chen Ze had saved money and only bought two bottles of Yanghe Sea Blue.

“Sure, uncle, I’ll join you.”

Chen Ze stood up to take the wine. Zhang Suyun seemed a little dazed, both by Xu Liping’s initiative to drink and by the sight of her former student apparently having grown up.

Earlier, when Chen Ze accompanied Xu Jiarou downstairs to get the cake, he’d basically understood the Xu family’s situation.

Loyalty and filial piety are difficult to balance. After the old lady fell ill, various problems inevitably arose.

Xu Liping was a police officer.

Zhang Suyun was a teacher.

Both jobs were demanding, and asking either to give up was harsh, especially at this critical middle-age stage.

What their retirement would be like depended on these few years.

In the end, the couple compromised: Zhang Suyun stopped taking classes for a few years, and Xu Liping applied for a transfer within the bureau.

Although the current alcohol ban wasn’t as strict as after the anti-gang campaign, it was still very strict.

Under the police’s first-level duty mode, no leave, no going home, and no drinking that might interfere with work was allowed.

Xu Liping didn’t know Chen Ze was coming today, but he had reported a day off several days ago. However, as director, he still worked until evening.

He didn’t like drinking and only suddenly felt like having a few sips to get rid of the wine.

Chen Ze had brought two bottles; they’d open one and then the other—that was Xu Liping’s plan.

Chen Ze, not being part of the system, didn’t mind. He even saw it as recognition from the other side, and he had a little private wish—how could he not drink?

“Uncle, don’t drink too much.”

Chen Ze put the bottle on his side and, as a junior, politely toasted three elders.

Zhang Suyun drank her beverage and, glancing down at Chen Ze’s daughter, put down her cup and asked:

“Chen Ze, I haven’t asked you yet, how’s studying in America? Is the pressure heavy?”

After signaling Xu Liping to start eating, Chen Ze was a step slower to pick up his chopsticks. He looked over thoughtfully and said:

“The pressure is actually quite heavy.”

Chen Ze told the truth. Studying abroad seemed wonderful in imagination but was often disappointing in reality.

“Which aspect is more stressful? Academics or life?”

“Both, in every way.”

Chen Ze had studied abroad for two years. The pressure had been so great he once suspected he was ill—psychologically ill. Overall, the stress of studying abroad exceeded that of studying in China.

Whether it was the loneliness of being far away, social isolation, or cultural differences.

America had many Chinese descendants, but most were from southern China or Southeast Asia. To some extent, they were more exclusive toward mainland Chinese students studying abroad than even black or white students.

This was pressure on life; academically, it was even worse. Education there was elite and joy-based.

They expected you to excel but wouldn’t micromanage you. The American system was indeed good—no exaggeration—but that also meant very high demands on students.

Donations? Not for Chen Ze. He was admitted through a proper interview. If money was needed, he could easily go to Harvard or Columbia instead.

Compared to America, where money could buy graduation, back home, having a chaperone and scholarships made studying abroad a paradise. These American students were truly suffering.

Not exaggerating, it was like being a servant, especially for someone like Chen Ze, whose family wasn’t wealthy.

The propaganda about how joyful and wonderful studying in America is exists, but one must look in the mirror and see if they have the money to live that life. Those who can live happily in America can do so anywhere in the world.

Especially in recent years, with China’s development, the voices of worshiping foreign things have decreased, and overseas returnees are less favored.

Apart from the top students from rich families, the most lucrative job for ordinary overseas students returning home is guess what? Working as study abroad agents.

Basically, convincing others to study in America—that’s the best-paying profession for ordinary overseas students.

Of course, studying in America has its benefits—it broadens horizons and enriches thinking, and the education in top-ranked universities is truly excellent.

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But if the family isn’t wealthy, the student lacks talent, and can’t handle the pressure, it’s better to study domestically and use the money to travel the world.

During these two years abroad, Chen Ze saw a lot but lived in a very small, clean circle. He only knew two Mexican friends and a few Chinese students.

It was easy to feel inferior.

The stress of studying abroad in a foreign land would be one thing, but he also had little money. Most of his expenses were paid by Visa; he spent in America, and his parents paid back in China.

“What did you buy that was so expensive?”

“What did you eat to spend so much?”

“Why are you still out so late?”

Whenever he called his parents internationally, one of these three questions was guaranteed.

The key was, he really didn’t spend much. Compared to the truly wealthy second generation, he was like a poor nobody.

If you don’t have over a million a year, do you think you can live extravagantly in America? No way unless you freeload.

Northeastern University’s tuition was expensive, and rent was high everywhere. Apart from its location and somewhat better employment prospects, the school was average.

Many people probably hadn’t heard of this university. If Chen Ze weren’t preparing for studying abroad, he wouldn’t have known it either.

Chen Ze wasn’t venting. He gave a brief answer, and Zhang Suyun suddenly remembered something and asked:

“What’s your major again?”

“Marketing.”

With Xu Liping present, Chen Ze didn’t use fancy terms. He answered properly, obediently.

After another drink, Zhang Suyun glanced at Chen Ze’s daughter, who kept looking at him, and continued:

“How do you feel about that major?”

Noticing Zhang Suyun’s gaze, Chen Ze chewed his food, looked at Xu Jiarou beside him, and smiled:

“It’s the same as Xu’s major—jack of all trades. Mine has even less technical barrier.”

Xu Jiarou’s major was Chinese language and literature. Although not a science or engineering field, it still had some barriers.

Chen Ze’s major was business marketing, entirely talent-based, not skill-based. What you learned in class might not be used in work.

In his past life, he messed around everywhere.

In this life, marketing.

Many people mistakenly equate marketing with sales. Chen Ze didn’t know how it was taught in China, but what he learned was different.

His teacher said it wasn’t about selling but about eliminating the need for sales.

You could think of sales as the ox plowing the field, while marketing was the tractor. Both do the same job, but once there’s a tractor, who still uses oxen?

The so-called lack of technical barriers meant you didn’t have to study marketing to do marketing. Some people had never studied it but were not weak at marketing techniques.

So majoring in marketing required strong belief and talent; otherwise, you might as well learn to be a chef flipping pans—four years of study could be wasted.

Chen Ze didn’t finish his major and didn’t get a job from it, but it still greatly benefited his growth path.

Reborn, Chen Ze was very happy. He drank a lot all at once, leaving the Xu family slightly tipsy.

Xu Jiarou saw him off at the community entrance. The two agreed to meet in Yanjing and parted ways.

Chen Ze got home at ten. Perhaps due to lack of sleep, seeing his little princess already asleep, he didn’t disturb her or wait for Chen Tianhong to return.

With his mother’s nagging in the background, he finished showering and lay in bed, a faint smile on his face, drifting into sleep.

Just as he was drifting off, his phone rang. He forced his eyes open to see a Sichuan number. He answered, and a soft, sweet voice came through.

“Husband, are you asleep? I can’t sleep.”

Hearing it was Li Yao on the other end, Chen Ze was dazed for a moment, then groggily said:

“Baby, can we talk about this tomorrow morning? Let’s hang up and get some rest first.”

After hanging up and switching to silent mode, Chen Ze lay back down, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.