Chapter 1: Reality

The day her father was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s, two things happened.

The first was the diagnosis itself; the second was that David Carter learned the campus heartthrob she’d secretly liked for years was about to go abroad for further studies.

As for her father’s Alzheimer’s, David Carter had actually suspected it for a while. She and her dad had tried all sorts of online tests, reliable or not. So when the doctor delivered the verdict, neither of them felt like the sky was falling; they just thought—

Anything can happen to anyone in this world, it’s no big deal.

And with that thought, the second thing really didn’t seem like a big deal. David Carter had always been clear about the distance between herself and her crush.

Before this conversation, she and her dad were sitting in a noodle shop next to the hospital. Her dad was sneakily raising his hand, about to order another serving of fried pork cutlet from the waiter.

It was noon, the rainy weather made the air humid, and the noodle shop was steaming with heat.

David Carter bit her chopsticks and sharply retorted, “Accountant Carter, does your fatty liver approve of you eating more?”

To change the subject, Old Student looked at the golden pork cutlet in front of her and said, feigning sadness, “Dad wants to remember the taste of pork cutlet.”

His tone was exaggerated, clearly just teasing her. David Carter was both annoyed and amused—who jokes about their own dementia?

Thinking of this, her eyes suddenly reddened. She quickly lowered her head and sniffed, pretending the soup was too spicy.

Outside the window was a bustling street near the hospital, cars and pedestrians weaving through the curtain of rain. The plane trees stood silent and tall, water droplets falling one after another from their leaves. Everything was misty, like a pale Impressionist painting.

David Carter looked at the bowl of noodles in front of her.

Snow-white noodles sank in red chili oil, topped with bright green scallions. She stared for a while, then heard her father say that sentence.

—Anything can happen to anyone in this world, it’s no big deal.

It was true, but in this moment, it still hurt.

“So what about me?” David Carter hesitated for a moment, but still asked.

“Your old father has raised you all the way to college graduation. Now you have to face the trials of society on your own.”

“I haven’t graduated yet.”

“We have millions in savings, plus five apartments!” Mr. Carter hurried to add, afraid she’d misunderstand, “Of course, all of that is mine.”

David Carter: “……”

“You see, what’s mine is mine, what’s yours is yours. My noodles are my noodles, your noodles are your noodles.

Mr. Old Carter pulled out a long chopstick from the holder and tapped the edge of his bowl. With a crisp ding, he continued to gently guide her, “So my illness is my illness, your life is your life. These things are relatively independent, they don’t really affect each other.”

Hearing this, David Carter looked up at her father in disbelief.

Old Carter was wearing an old man’s undershirt today, speaking with a detached, world-weary calm. But thinking of all the years they’d depended on each other, David Carter wondered if she’d heard him right.

“My illness is my illness, my life is my life?”

“Doesn’t it make sense?”

Mr. Old Carter was quite proud of this line, but David Carter couldn’t help interrupting: “But isn’t your life a mess because of me?”

It was a simple sentence, but it had troubled David Carter for many years.

She was 22 this year.

Twenty-two years ago, when she was just born, the Mr. Old Carter sitting across from her gave up the chance to go abroad to continue his studies in mathematics, chose to become her father, and raised her alone.

If it were six hours later in the evening, by then she’d have learned that her crush Henry Clark was going abroad to study, at the very school her father had given up years ago. She would surely sigh at the subtle parallels in her life.

But right now, she was just too choked up by Old Carter’s next words to eat her pork cutlet.

“What could I do? The law says I have to raise you.” That’s what Mr. Old Carter said.

And that was the end of the topic.

So many years had passed, from her tearful teenage years to now, when she could ask casually. She didn’t know how many times she’d asked the same question, and the answer was always this simple and direct.

Of course, there were still many questions. Like why her mother was so heartless as to leave her, or why her dad couldn’t take her abroad, or why her grandparents never helped.

But honestly, none of that mattered. Because for twenty-two years, the two of them had depended on each other—that was the real truth of life.

For this truth, father and daughter raised their cans of cola and clinked them together.

Mr. Old Carter sipped his cola like it was tea, put down the can, and asked, “So, are you upset that your dad is sick?”

David Carter gulped down half her can, looked at the energetic middle-aged man in front of her, and burped: “How could I be?”

“Good, then it’s really no big deal.”