Chapter 133: Where Has All the Time Gone

Time passed swiftly; in the blink of an eye, two hours had gone by.

By then, all the awards for urban dramas, idol dramas, and military dramas had been presented. The National Television Drama Ceremony had reached its halfway point.

The host, Li Su, walked onto the stage, raised the microphone in his hand, and said, “When I watched everyone receive their awards, I saw happiness and joy on every face. But I still want to ask you one question: Are you happy?”

“Happy!”

Whether newcomers or veterans, fans or celebrities, everyone shouted the answer in unison when the host asked.

Li Su nodded with satisfaction. “Time really does pass quickly. Before we know it, half of this year’s National Television Drama Ceremony has already gone by… Time is a very strange thing. When you care about it, it moves slowly. But when you pay it no attention, it seems to fly.”

“The old year is about to leave, and the new year is on its way… Over the past year, we haven’t had any particularly profound sense of time. We only complain that it passes far too quickly. Why? Because we’re busy. We have our own jobs, our own careers, and… far too many things waiting to be done. Time always feels insufficient. Sometimes, we even ask ourselves: Where has all the time gone?”

Those words seemed to touch the hearts of everyone present. They all nodded in agreement, and some even leaned toward their neighbors, whispering among themselves.

The host glanced over the audience and continued, “The new year is almost here, and amid all our busyness, we’ve grown another year older… Perhaps some people don’t care. What’s the big deal about turning a year older? I’m still young. I still have plenty of time. Others may complain about it and resent the passing years. But…”

He paused suddenly.

“But have you ever thought about this? While you have grown a year older, your parents at home have grown a year older too… This past year, we devoted our time to work and our careers. But the older people at home devoted all their time to longing—longing for their sons, longing for their daughters…”

“How many times did you go home this year? How many meals did you share with your parents? Of course, all of us are busy with work. I’m no different. Looking back, I went home fewer than five times in total this year. Yet every time I saw my parents, I felt that they had aged so much since the last time…”

By the time he finished speaking, people in the audience were silently wiping away their tears.

There was no denying it: the host’s words had struck a chord. They were all too busy, especially when they were filming. They often had to rush from one place to another, and even the fastest production could take half a year to complete.

Of course, this was not something that happened only to celebrities. Ordinary people were the same. Drifting far from home for the sake of work, many went several consecutive years without returning. Such things were hardly uncommon.

And yet they had failed to notice that, through those long years of waiting, their parents’ faces had gradually gathered more wrinkles, while their hair had slowly turned gray.

The host’s eyes had reddened as well, and the hand holding the microphone began to tremble slightly.

At that moment, another female host appeared among the audience below the stage. A faint sadness crossed her face.

“I remember that in June of this year, a modern urban-life drama was nearing the end of its production. At a crucial moment, the entire crew was immersed in a frantic rush to finish.”

“One of the most beloved male actors was playing the lead role. He traveled tirelessly with the crew, working as hard as he could. But no one knew that his wife was already at full term in her pregnancy… He couldn’t return home to care for his wife, who was about to give birth, so all he could do was hope that filming would progress a little faster—and that their son would wait a few more days before coming into the world.”

“At last, the drama wrapped. Just as the entire crew was preparing to celebrate, the actor dragged his exhausted body along with his suitcase and boarded a flight home. Before leaving, he said something that has stayed with me ever since. He said: ‘When my wife was pregnant, I couldn’t be there to care for her. But I hope that, the moment she comes out of the operating room, I’ll be the first person she sees…’”

It was a very brief story, but when the host, Meng Yao, recounted it, everyone present was moved once again.

Nearly everyone began looking around, searching for the actor in question. Many quietly tried to guess who he was.

Of course, not everyone would encounter such a situation. But the pain and guilt behind it touched every person there.

While filming away from home, they often faced all kinds of unexpected emergencies. Again and again, those sudden events caught them completely unprepared.

Yet while they were working, they could not be in two places at once… At that moment, all they hoped for was a little more time—no matter how little.

Meng Yao did not reveal the actor’s name, but everyone noticed the same person at once: an ordinary-looking man in his forties.

He sat in his seat, tears streaming uncontrollably down his face.

After seeing that, who could still fail to understand? Who could still fail to realize that the actor desperate to return home was none other than him?

Just then, the host spoke again. “Now, I still want to ask one more question: Where, exactly, has all the time gone?”

With that, Li Su and Meng Yao left the stage beneath the gaze of the audience.

At the same time, music slowly began to play.

Onstage, a young girl sat before a piano, playing with graceful elegance. On the large screen, a series of photographs appeared, seemingly edited especially for this moment.

They were photographs of the celebrities present: childhood pictures with their families, and photographs with their own children and spouses.

In the pictures, every one of them wore a blissful smile. But… those were all fragments of happiness that belonged to the past.

“Before the gate, the old tree puts forth new shoots; in the courtyard, the withered tree blooms again. Half a lifetime of words remains unspoken, hidden within a head of white hair. In memory, tiny feet and chubby little mouths—he gave all his love in this life, just to hear those words: ‘Dad, Mom’…”

As the singing began, a man in a suit walked steadily to the center of the stage, a microphone in his hand.

When he began to sing, everyone below the stage quietly shed tears. The lyrics alone were enough, but together with the photographs appearing one after another on the screen, their effect was overwhelming.

Some people were already sobbing too hard to speak.

“Where has all the time gone? Before I had the chance to truly feel young, I had already grown old. I spent a lifetime raising children and supporting the family, my mind filled with whether the children were crying or laughing… Where has all the time gone? Before I had the chance to truly look into your eyes, my vision had already dimmed. After half a lifetime of firewood, rice, oil, and salt, in the blink of an eye, all that remains is a face covered in wrinkles…”

None of the lyrics was dressed up in ornate language. Every word was simple and easy to understand. Yet precisely because of that, as they listened to each line, it felt as though a hammer were striking their hearts, blow after blow…

Yes. Time passed far too quickly. Where, exactly, had it all gone?