Strongest Among the Heavens
Chapter 239: Chen Yixi III

Chapter 239: Chen Yixi III

The next day was the weekend. Chen lay there, thinking. For a kid, Dasha made a lot of great points. The playground wasn’t the same as the adult world, sure. However, the principle of bravery was still there. Chivalry existed.

"Maybe I should go," he said to himself. "One last try."

He decided to go to a bar for once. Chen didn’t want to be the last of his kind. Old school love was hard to come by and he was sure that the ladies would enjoy it. That was just how women were, they enjoyed the company of strong men with a strong mind and sense of duty.

The atmosphere in the bar was loud and chaotic. Chen felt out of place among the younger crowd, but he pushed through his discomfort. He spotted a woman sitting alone at the bar and mustered up the courage to approach her.

"Mind if I join you?" Chen asked, trying to sound confident.

The woman looked him up and down. "Buy me a drink?"

Chen smiled and did just that. They made small talk, but over the minutes, it became clear she wasn’t interested. Every time he tried to steer the conversation towards something he liked, she would deflect with a joke or a dismissive comment. As the night wore on, her disdain became more evident.

"So, what’s an old guy guy like you doing in a place like this?" she asked, flipping her hair away from him.

Chen forced a smile. "Just looking for some company, I guess. It gets lonely sometimes."

The woman laughed, a harsh sound that echoed in his ears. "Lonely? You’re telling me. Maybe you should stick to bingo nights, old man."

Chen felt his face flush. His lips attempted to form words but failed. Laughing, the woman excused herself and waved at a group that had entered the bar. Chen watched her go. He tilted his drink in silence, the noise of his existence fading.

Old man. He thought he had already accepted being old. Somehow, he wasn’t ready for it. Her words cut deep. He sat there, the bartender asking if he wanted anything else. Chen mumbled an excuse before leaving the bar. The world felt colder, darker, and more unforgiving, and Chen Yixi was left to face it alone.

He opened the door to his car, alone. He went home, alone.

That was until he saw the boy sitting at the front law and he remembered his life meant something to someone. Dasha waved at him.

Chen smiled and gestured at him to follow him inside. "It’s cold and dark," he said. "Come inside."

So he did. Dasha didn’t say a word and followed. Chen was glad that someone listened to him, that someone liked him.

"What were you doing out so late, kid?"

"My parents."

"Ah."

They sat together in the living room, the silence between them comfortably heavy. Chen poured himself a cup of water, his hands shaking slightly. The buzz that came from alcohol....there was a reason he didn’t like it in his old age.

"Why are you so sad, sir?" Dasha asked.

"Please don’t call me sir. I am..." A sigh. "Nevermind."

"Oh, okay."

"No, no, no." All of a sudden, he felt guilty and he took a long sip of his drink. "Life’s been hard,. Sometimes it feels like there’s no way out."

"My dad is like that. He doesn’t talk much."

Chen recalled the quiet man next door. He looked and acted a lot like Dasha, very solemn and goal-oriented. "I noticed."

"I think..." Dasha gulped down his own glass of water childishly. "...I think it’s because his friend died."

Chen turned to look at him. Dasha continued, gaze glued to the glass.

"He was a friend at work. He used to come over. But now...no one talks about him. I think..." Sip. "I think he was killed."

"Killed? As in...murdered?" Chen would have scoffed if not for the discord in the boy’s voice.

"The boss...it was a workplace accident and the boss was behind it. I think that’s why no one talks about it."

The boss...?

"All of my dad’s friends complain about him. He’s evil and bad and did bad stuff to one of my uncle’s wives. The uncles called the bad boss a pervert and to ’eff his ancestors to the eighteenth generation’."

Chen didn’t know how to respond. But as he looked at the boy, he found profound sadness in his eyes.

"Why?" Dasha asked, voice cracking. "Why didn’t the police arrest the bad man?"

"It’s, well..." Chen sighed and went over to put a hand on his shoulder. "It is...reality, my friend."

The boy’s gaze was steely strong. For a moment, Chen thought he was looking into the soul of an angel.

"Whenever people want you to do something they think is wrong, they say it’s ’reality’."

Chen was taken aback.

"Bad things should be bad," Dasha said, "no matter what."

Childlike morality. A simple view of the world untainted by experience. And despite that...something stirred in his heart.

’He’s right.’

Chen couldn’t respond. For the rest of the night, Dasha’s words echoed in his mind.

Bad things should be bad. Wrong things are covered up as being reality. It was all so damn true. Abuse could be covered up because it was done by someone of value; perhaps a genius or one wealth.

Morality is always skewed toward the powerful. athletes, actors, celebrities—they were the ones that possessed freedom.

But people like Chen? Like Dasha’s father? Like the friends at work? They were chained up by people that they couldn’t even see. Women refused to acknowledge them because the bad man with everything was better.

As if.

They were evil. They just couldn’t see it. They judged on looks and money and never personality. Never inward.

That was what was wrong with society.

He thought, he thought, he thought. The anger and frustration that had been building up inside him for years reached a boiling point.

He saw the veins on his wrist. He saw the darkness in the mirror.

He was old. There was no value he could give for himself or others.

Unless he went for one last act of freedom. Unless he wanted to be free like his drunk self said.

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