Nathan and the Twelve-Year Gamble Chapter 3

Early winter.

I stood in front of Oliver Li's grave and watched him smile heartlessly. If he had known when he was alive that this photo would be placed on his tombstone by You Jia, he would definitely not have been able to smile.

I lit two cigarettes, one for myself and one for standing upside down on the cold ground. "Brother," I squatted down and gently stroked his name with my fingers, "be good over there. You are not allowed to burn paper here. I will go out and burn it for you later. You should be at ease. Gabriel should be released in two years. Then he and I will come to see you. Ouyang... is still asleep... I... I, if you know what is happening in the afterlife, please show me a way to survive..."

The golden words on the tombstone were icy cold under the bright sunlight, exuding the breath of death. No matter who they were, no matter how glorious their life was, they would always be easily buried by these simple twenty or so words.

7 years.

I have imagined more than once what he was thinking about the moment he drank the poison, and what kind of nostalgia and sadness he must have felt before he died in the small space of his car.

And now, I finally understand.

What others are betting on is money.

What he is betting on is his life.

What I am betting on is a lifetime of happiness.

If I could do it all over again, I wish we could spend that youth calmly, without thrills, separations of life and death, heart-wrenching pain, or glory and legends.

But how will the fat man choose between living a mediocre life and dying with glory?

It was snowing, the first snow of this winter, fluttering down and K!ssing my bare hands and face mercilessly. I would rather believe that what was melting on my face were snowflakes.

Instead of tears.