The morning sunlight seeped through the thin curtains, casting a faint glow on the walls of the living room. Chen Xiang stirred on the sofa, the stiff cushions doing little to ease the ache in his back. He blinked slowly, the weight of yesterday's conversation with his father still heavy on his mind. The house was quiet except for the soft clinking of pots in the kitchen, where his mother was already busy.
He pushed himself up, glancing at the clock. It was just past seven. His father was usually up by now, watching the news or muttering about the state of the world. But the absence of sound from the bedroom made Chen Xiang's chest tighten.
He padded down the hallway, his footsteps cautious. As he opened the door, his father was still lying in bed, his chest rising and falling in slow, labored breaths. The glow of the muted TV cast a soft light over the room.
"Morning, Dad," Chen Xiang said quietly, pulling a chair closer. His father stirred, his eyelids fluttering open.
"Morning, boy," Chen He replied, his voice a whisper. "You're up early."
Chen Xiang smiled faintly. "Couldn't sleep."
Chen He chuckled weakly, a sound that quickly turned into a cough. Chen Xiang reached for the glass of water on the bedside table, helping his father take a small sip.
"You always were the worrier," Chen He said, his voice hoarse but laced with affection. "Even when you were a kid. Always looking out for everyone else."
Chen Xiang didn't reply immediately. He looked at his father, the man who had once seemed so strong, now reduced to this frail figure. It wasn't anger or regret he felt anymore—it was grief, pure and unrelenting.
"You taught me to be that way," he said finally, his voice steady. "Even if you didn't realize it."
Chen He's eyes softened. He reached out a trembling hand, and Chen Xiang grasped it firmly. They sat in silence for a while, the unspoken emotions hanging between them. For the first time in years, Chen Xiang felt a sense of peace, fragile but real.
Later that day, the house filled with the quiet bustle of visitors. Relatives and old friends came to see Chen He, their voices hushed as they exchanged small memories and whispered goodbyes. Chen Xiang stayed by his father's side, watching as the man who had once seemed so unshakable faced each visitor with quiet dignity.
When the last guest had left, Chen He's energy began to wane. His breathing grew shallower, and the faint smile he had managed to maintain throughout the day began to fade.
That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Chen Xiang sat beside his father, his siblings and mother gathered close. The room was filled with the quiet hum of shared grief. Chen He's voice, barely audible now, broke the silence.
"Chen Xiang," he said, his eyes fixed on his eldest son. "Promise me you'll take care of them. Your mother. Your brother and sisters. They'll need you."
"I promise," Chen Xiang said, his voice steady despite the lump in his throat. "I won't let them down."
Chen He's gaze shifted to the others, his expression softening. "And you all… remember to look out for each other. Family is all we have."
His words lingered in the air, a final reminder of what mattered most. As the night deepened, Chen He slipped into a peaceful sleep, his breaths slowing until they finally stopped. The quiet that followed was profound, a stillness that seemed to echo through the room.
Chen Xiang felt his mother's hand on his shoulder, her grip firm despite the tears streaming down her face. His siblings clung to each other, their sobs muffled but raw. He wrapped his arms around them, holding them close as they grieved together.
---
The next morning, the house was filled with the muted sounds of preparations. Funeral arrangements were made, relatives called, and neighbors stopped by to offer their condolences. Chen Xiang moved through it all with a quiet determination, ensuring every detail was handled, every responsibility met. His promise to his father echoed in his mind, driving him forward even as the weight of loss threatened to pull him down.
That evening, after the guests had left and the house had settled into an uneasy silence, Chen Xiang stepped outside. The air was cool, the stars scattered across the sky in a quiet display of beauty. He stood alone for a moment, his thoughts heavy but clear.
His father's final words weren't just a request—they were a reminder of what he needed to become. Strong, dependable, a pillar for his family. It wasn't a role he had chosen, but it was one he would embrace.
As he looked up at the stars, Chen Xiang made a silent vow to himself. No matter what challenges lay ahead, he would honor his father's memory by keeping their family together.