The old man gazed out the window and murmured to himself,

“That day, I was pedaling my bike to the funeral home. The more I thought about it, the worse I felt… That old bastard never beat me at chess once. He still owed me six dollars and fifty cents from a mahjong game—and never paid it back. And my precious grandson had begged me for so long for this day… ruined all because of that damn old man’s funeral…”

“I kept pedaling, sincerely chanting ‘Amitabha’ a few times. I figured, worst case, I’d burn extra paper money for him on the seventh day. So I turned the bike and headed straight to Xiaofeng’s school…”

Han froze slightly, head bowed, silently peeling an orange, lips pressed tight.

The old man continued softly,

“I kept thinking—if I didn’t show up after promising Xiaofeng so many times, he’d never forgive me… When I reached the school, oh, the scene! A sea of parents packed the grounds. Sports Day was in full swing—short dash, all sorts of events… Kids ran, and everyone cheered wildly for their own.”

“I pushed my bike through the crowd, eyes locked on finding Xiaofeng. My poor grandson… Everyone else had parents shouting encouragement. But he stood there alone. Not a single voice for him…”

I stood quietly beside Han.

Her hands hung limp on her knees, clenched so tightly her knuckles had gone pale.

“I went to Xiaofeng’s class area, asking where he was. No one knew… I grew frantic, stopping everyone: ‘Where’s Xiaofeng? Where’s Han Changfeng?’ They all recognized him—but not one knew where he’d gone…”

“The basketball game’s usually the finale,” Han said with a soft chuckle, back still turned. “Maybe he stepped outside—it was too noisy in there.”

The old man smiled faintly.

“I searched and searched. Nearly two hours… My throat was parched, legs aching, barely able to walk…”

“Then the announcement blared: ‘Basketball game starting!’ I remembered Xiaofeng played. I rushed toward the court—the crowd surged. I shoved through, nearly losing my shoes…”

“Xiaofeng stood on the court alone. Others clustered in groups chatting. He just stood aside, dribbling the ball. Oh, that foolish child…”

Han looked down, fiddling with the orange peel. “You went? Did he know?”

Her voice trembled slightly. I noticed.

The old man shook his head, eyes on the window. “I never told him… He’s too thoughtful. If he knew I skipped my old friend’s funeral for him, he’d scold me…”

“Now I can’t see him anymore… I regret it. Xiaofeng still doesn’t know I watched that game. That evening, he came home holding his award certificate, hugging the basketball, walked straight to his room without a word. And I… said nothing.”

“If I’d known how things would turn out, I’d have told him—even if he scolded me. That game… I was there.”

“Xiaofeng played so brilliantly… When he ran, he was like a gust of wind. Girls cheered, shouting his name…”

Han sat silently in her chair.

The old man watched the window awhile. Age and illness had worn him thin; the long talk left him weary. He sighed, turned with effort, fumbled under his pillow—and pulled out a small stack of hundred-yuan bills.

“Child… your school’s event… truly wonderful. Here. It’s late—the New Year’s been over a month—but I saved this bit by bit. Take it. Call it New Year’s money.”

Han stiffened, waving her hands hastily. “No… no, I can’t accept this…”

I’d stood silent beside them. Suddenly, I said flatly, “Take it.”

Han shot me a quick glare, stood up flustered. “Wait, Grandpa—really, I can’t…”

“Just because you know Xiao Lu… I want you to have it,” the old man said warmly. “Funny thing—I feel an instant fondness for you, child. Xiao Lu, you know her! Persuade her.”

I sighed deeply. “Take it. Now.”

Han hesitated, glancing at me. I kept my eyes down. After a breath, she sighed, slowly reached for the bills, and offered a faint smile. “Thank you, Grandpa. I’ll visit again soon.”

“Cough… cough! It’s nothing…”

He waved a frail hand, smiling. “You and I… we share a connection. This money was meant for Xiaofeng. But my body… isn’t what it was.”

“Seems… before I go… I won’t see him again.”

Han’s hand trembled. Her eyes reddened; tears welled. She turned sharply away. Luckily, the old man still faced the window. Voice quivering, she said, “Grandpa, I’ve school matters. I’ll visit tomorrow.”

“Cough… cough!” He covered his mouth, smiling gently. “Go safely. Watch for traffic.”

Han nodded.

She wiped her eyes subtly, turned with a light smile. “Xiao Shen, let’s go!”

Xiao Shen stood thoughtfully, tucking his phone away.

Long Ge lingered beside me, hesitant. I sighed inwardly, smiled at her. “Head home. Don’t stay out late. Tomorrow, I’ll go with you to the interview.”

Long Ge blinked, nodded softly.

Xiao Shen sighed and walked toward the door.

I pulled a stool to the bedside.

The old man was truly tired. Though the sky was overcast, silvery light brushed his face. Eyes closed wearily, breath shallow.

I sat in silence. Then Han’s voice came softly from behind: “Grandpa.”

A faint smile touched his lips. He opened his eyes, looking past me.

I turned.

Han’s eyes were slightly red-rimmed. She smiled gently.

“Grandpa… I’m good at basketball too. Probably not much worse than your grandson. If you don’t mind—there’s a sports meet at a nearby school soon. Come watch. I’ll win the championship for you.”

The old man paused.

Then a warm smile spread across his face. He gave a slow, gentle nod.