Chapter Four: The Eerie Photograph
After Academician Wang left, the crowd in the assembly hall began to gradually disperse. Zhang Mingyang glanced at his watch; it was not yet ten o'clock. He decided to return to his dormitory to fetch a few things.
Outside the hall, he bid farewell to each of his roommates, agreeing to meet again when the semester began, then set off alone toward the dormitory building.
On the way, Zhang Mingyang pondered over what Grandpa Wang had said, and his thoughts drifted to his father, whom he had never met. Could his father have been someone like Grandpa Wang as well?
“Zhang Mingyang, wait up.”
Xu Zihan’s voice called from behind!
“Oh damn!”
Just as Zhang Mingyang was about to make his escape, Xu Zihan waved something in her hand and shouted, “Academician Wang left you a letter!”
A letter from Grandpa Wang? Zhang Mingyang stopped in his tracks. Who still writes letters these days?
“Why are you running? Do you think I’ll eat you?”
“You couldn’t eat me, but you might skin me alive!”
Seeing Xu Zihan panting and holding the envelope, Zhang Mingyang seized the opportunity when she wasn't paying attention, snatched the envelope, and dashed toward the dormitory, leaving Xu Zihan behind, her face flushed with fury.
“Zhang Mingyang, you just wait!”
...
After running several hundred meters, Zhang Mingyang glanced back and saw that Xu Zihan hadn't given chase. He breathed a sigh of relief.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the envelope—a black one, unadorned, bearing only a date and a single sentence.
“To my future son, March 2, 2021.”
“To my future son?
What does that mean?
Did Grandpa Wang give it to the wrong person?
Upon seeing the date, Zhang Mingyang suddenly realized something!
March 2, 2021? That was just a few months before he was born! Could it be a letter from his late father?
With this thought, Zhang Mingyang hurried toward his dormitory.
On the second floor, outside Room 201, the facial recognition system identified him as a resident and unlocked the door.
In the darkness, Zhang Mingyang called out, “Lucky, open the curtains and lock the door.”
“Certainly.”
The smart home manager followed his instructions, locked the door, and drew open the curtains.
Sunlight poured warmly into the room, revealing its layout clearly.
His dormitory was a spacious 150 square meters, with six rooms—one suite per person, plus a living room and a dining area.
The room on the far left belonged to Zhang Mingyang.
He pushed open the door: inside was a small bed, a wardrobe, and a desk—so simple it could hardly be simpler.
At the desk, Zhang Mingyang carefully took out the envelope and gave it a shake, feeling the weight of what seemed to be a letter inside.
He fetched a pair of scissors from the drawer and gently cut along the edge. Three photographs slipped out.
---
“Why are these photographs?” Zhang Mingyang picked them up and pondered.
The first photograph was instantly recognizable: his late parents, standing together in front of the rural house back in Jiyang.
The second photograph was more enigmatic—black and white, reminiscent of an old film from a century ago. A glowing white object floated above black soil, so blurry one might think it was a botched exposure.
“What is this?” Zhang Mingyang was baffled.
The third photograph showed his father alone, posing in front of the entrance to the Aerospace Ministry.
Having examined all three, Zhang Mingyang inspected each photo and the envelope for any inscriptions or markings, but found nothing—just the photographs.
“Why would my father leave me these?”
He stared at the images, recalling that Grandpa Wang had given him the envelope. Why had Grandpa Wang chosen now to hand over his father’s photographs?
“Oh! Why not just call Grandpa Wang and ask?”
He pulled out his phone and dialed Wang Bowen.
Ring...
Ring...
Sorry, the number you dialed is currently unavailable...
“No answer?”
Zhang Mingyang set down his phone and lay on the bed, lost in thought about what was going on.
“Grandpa, your grandson is calling…”
“Grandpa, your grandson is calling…”
The ringtone jolted Zhang Mingyang upright—surely Grandpa Wang was returning his call.
But the caller ID showed it was his grandmother.
He answered:
“Hello, Grandma, what’s up?”
“Mingyang, are your classes finished?”
“Yes, Grandma, I’m on my way home.”
“Oh, good. Remember to buy a bottle of soy sauce on your way back. That lazy old man refuses to go out!”
Zhang Mingyang rolled his eyes and replied, “Okay, Grandma, I’ll be home soon.”
He hung up and checked the time—11:20.
Forget it; he’d take the photos home and study them at leisure.
He packed a few books he wanted to read and left the dormitory.
On the bus, Zhang Mingyang kept thinking about the photographs, almost missing his stop.
At the supermarket outside his neighborhood, he quickly chose a bottle of soy sauce and headed home.
As soon as he opened the door, the tantalizing aroma of food instantly stimulated his senses.
---
“Grandma, what are you cooking? It smells amazing!”
From the kitchen, his grandmother, seeing him return, replied, “Your favorite—braised ribs.”
“Mingyang! Put your things down, wash your hands, and get ready to eat.”
Zhang Mingyang handed her the soy sauce and walked into the dining room.
Wait, something was off—he hadn’t seen his grandfather watching television as usual.
“Grandma, where’s Grandpa?”
“He went downstairs to visit Grandpa Qiu.”
Downstairs to Grandpa Qiu’s place?
Usually, his grandfather would be in the living room watching TV at this hour...
“Oh! I get it!”
Zhang Mingyang suddenly realized—the two elders must have argued over the soy sauce again.
“Grandma, did you and Grandpa get into another argument over a bottle of soy sauce?”
His grandmother carried the dishes to the dining room, fuming, “Don’t mind him. If he wants to eat, fine. If not, whatever.”
Zhang Mingyang chuckled, “It’s just a bottle of soy sauce! No need to fight over it!”
His grandmother grew even more irate, “You don’t know how lazy your grandfather has become. I ask him to buy soy sauce for his own good—he’s almost eighty, needs to get out and walk, exercise a bit, instead of sitting glued to the TV all day.”
“Oh, the more I nag him, the more stubborn he gets. So I said, ‘If you don’t buy soy sauce, you won’t eat lunch today.’”
“He stormed out without a word.”
“Haha...!”
Zhang Mingyang couldn’t stop laughing. He never imagined his grandfather could be so forceful; he’d always thought the old man was meek, forever bullied by Grandma—a real gentle soul.
“Enough, let’s eat and forget about him.”
Zhang Mingyang said nothing more, but he did set aside a portion of food for his grandfather.
After lunch, he helped Grandma wash the dishes.
“Mingyang, tomorrow your grandfather and I are going back to the old house. Will you come?”
“Back to the old house?”
“No...”
He was about to refuse, but then he thought of the photograph of his father at the ancestral home and decided he wanted to go.
“I’ll go, Grandma. I’ll come with you tomorrow.”
“Then be sure to wake up early.”