My eyes darted around as I backed toward the front door. I opened it, waved at Mom, and said, "Mom, I'm heading out now. See you another day."
After finding out where Mom lived, I felt much more at ease.
I had wanted to visit the very next day, but I was afraid of annoying her, so I forced myself to wait until Saturday. As soon as school let out that afternoon, I rushed over to her place.
On the way, I picked up some fresh fruits and vegetables.
I knocked on the door, but there was no response—seems Mom wasn't back from work yet.
I waited until nine in the evening when the familiar click-clack of high heels echoed through the hallway. The sound grew closer, and before long, Mom appeared at the end of the corridor, dressed in a suit skirt, sheer stockings, and high heels.
She had a handbag slung over her arm and was carrying a bulging shopping bag. Seeing me standing at her doorstep, she looked surprised and asked, "What are you doing here?"
"I need to talk to you about something."
"Couldn't you have called?"
"My phone ran out of battery."
Mom stared at me expressionlessly. "What is it?"
Blocking the doorway, I grinned sheepishly. "My English grades haven't been great lately, so I was hoping you could give me some guidance." Then I lifted the plastic bag in my hand and added, "Dad was worried you might not be eating well, so he asked me to bring you some fresh fruits and vegetables."
Mom looked at me with a faint, disdainful smile. "Did your dad really ask you to bring these?"
"Yeah." Mom shot me a sidelong glare.
Knowing I couldn't fool her, I admitted honestly, "I bought them for you on the way."
"Move aside." With that, she pushed me to the side, took out her keys, and opened the door. As the door swung open, I tried to squeeze in behind her, but she blocked my way with her arm.
Frowning, I dragged out my plea, "Mom~!"
"Go home!" She pressed a hand against my chest.
"Mom, don't push me."
Mom let out a long sigh. "Listen, I'm in a bad mood and don't want to see you. Go home and study."
"At least take these." I handed her the fruits and vegetables. She hesitated for a moment before accepting them.
As soon as she took the bag, I tried to slip inside again, but she quickly raised her arm to block my path.
"Mom, I've been waiting here for ages and haven't had dinner yet. Can I come in and grab something to eat?" I put on a pitiful expression, furrowing my brows as I spoke, and tried to force my way in. Mom pushed me back a few times, but finally, I ducked my head and slipped under her arm.
"Wow~! This place is huge." I pretended it was my first time there, looking around in exaggerated amazement.
Mom shot me a glare and placed her handbag and shopping bag on the coffee table.
"Aren't you scared living alone in such a big place?"
Mom watched me put on my act as she took off her coat.
I chuckled. "How about I move in… to keep you company?"
Mom said impatiently, "If you keep talking nonsense, get out."
I quickly shut my mouth, holding back for a while before finally blurting out, "This place is so big—cleaning must be a hassle. How about I come every Sunday to help you tidy up?"
"No need." Mom replied impatiently. "Ling Xiaodong, you're always running around. Do you even have time to study?"
"Yes! I've been studying really hard lately. Mom, you have no idea, even my homeroom teacher looks at me differently now and often praises me."
Mom didn't respond. She walked into the bedroom and forcefully closed the door, probably to change her clothes.
Seizing the opportunity, I opened the shopping bag. Inside were instant noodles, bread, and some snacks. It seemed this was what Mom usually ate.
After waiting for a while and seeing that Mom hadn't come out, I wandered into the kitchen. The gas stove and cooking utensils were all there, but they looked cold and unused, as if they rarely saw any action.
I looked around, checked the salt, sniffed the vinegar, and was thoroughly enjoying myself when Mom suddenly spoke from behind me: "Inspecting the premises?"
I jumped, startled, and quickly turned around. Mom had changed into light blue loungewear and was leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, watching me expressionlessly.
"Just looking around," I said with a smile, then asked, "Mom, haven't you had dinner yet?"
"No."
"What were you planning to eat tonight?"
"Instant noodles."
"That's not nutritious at all. How about this—you wait outside for a bit, and I'll cook you a meal." Without giving her a chance to refuse, I pushed her into the living room, then took the ingredients I'd brought and returned to the kitchen.
I had learned a bit from Dad and knew Mom's favorite dish was his stir-fried shredded pork with green peppers, so I had specifically bought the ingredients for it.
I washed the green peppers, cut off the ends, split them open to remove the seeds, and placed them on the cutting board. But when I picked up the kitchen knife, I hesitated.
How did Dad say to slice the green peppers? I gestured for a while before finally cutting them based on intuition. After struggling for a long time, the slices ended up wide and uneven.
"How can you slice green peppers like this?" Mom suddenly said from behind me.
I jumped again, holding the knife, and turned to complain, "Mom, how do you walk without making a sound?"
"Knife!" Mom pushed my hand holding the knife aside and said, "You need to slice green peppers diagonally."
"Diagonally?" I held the green pepper steady, gestured, and made a cut. Mom quickly added, "Faster. You need to cut quickly."
I made two more cuts, still not quite getting the hang of it. In her impatience, Mom simply took the knife from me and started slicing rapidly herself, all the while instructing me: "Like this, like this."
Seeing that Mom was almost done with the green peppers, I quickly said, "Alright, alright, leave one for me to try."
After slicing the peppers, it was time to stir-fry the shredded pork. Mom began instructing again: "You didn't use enough oil."
"The heat is too low."
"Flip it faster."
I grew impatient. After stir-frying the pork, I turned and pushed Mom out of the kitchen, muttering, "I can't concentrate with you here. You should wait outside."
As I pushed her out, Mom seemed uneasy and teased, "Don't burn my kitchen down."
Once she left the kitchen, I recalled the method Dad had taught me and stir-fried a plate of shredded pork with green peppers.
I tasted a bite first—it seemed alright.
Excitedly, I carried the plate out, ready to show off to Mom, only to find her sitting on the carpet between the coffee table and the sofa, leaning against the couch, slurping instant noodles.
I was annoyed: "Why did you start eating already?"
Mom slurped a mouthful of instant noodles, pursed her lips, and casually remarked, "I'm not too confident in your cooking skills."
I moved the instant noodle cup aside and placed the stir-fried green pepper and shredded pork in front of her, smiling as I said, "Give it a try."
Mom picked up her chopsticks, took a piece of shredded pork, and chewed it slowly. Her expression shifted subtly, and I nervously asked, "How is it?"
"It's a bit too salty and a little overcooked. But overall, it's not bad." Mom paused with the chopsticks near her mouth, carefully evaluating the dish before asking, "Did your dad teach you this?"
"Yeah."
"Not as good as your dad's cooking." Mom delivered a brief verdict and moved the instant noodle cup back in front of her.
I grew anxious. "Hey, why are you eating instant noodles again? Is my cooking really that bad?"
Mom replied, "You can't just eat the side dish alone."
It was only then that I remembered—in my eagerness to show off my cooking, I had completely forgotten about the main course. That was a bit embarrassing.
As I was trying to figure out what to do, Mom glanced at me and asked, "Why are you just sitting there? Aren't you going to eat either?"
Her words immediately made me feel hungry. I grabbed another pair of chopsticks and started eating the green pepper and shredded pork, bite by bite.
The first few bites were okay, but as I kept eating, it became unbearably salty. Meanwhile, Mom was eating her instant noodles, which made me envious. My stomach growled, but I was too embarrassed to ask for any.
Mom seemed to sense my predicament. She pulled another cup of instant noodles from the bag and handed it to me. I felt like I had struck gold and happily went to fetch hot water.
By the time I finished preparing the noodles, Mom had already finished eating and was sitting nearby, scrolling through her phone. I hesitated for a moment before casually asking, "Mom, when are you planning to go back?"
She glanced at me. "Once your dad cools down."
"That might take a while. Dad holds grudges so easily. By the time he cools down, you might be in your seventies or eighties."
Mom's expression darkened, and she glared at me. "And whose fault is that?"
Worried that she might bring up that night again, I quickly shut my mouth and focused on eating my noodles. After a while, Mom asked, "Still thinking about applying to Tsinghua University?"
"Well... I do want to, but I think you're right. Time is too tight, and the chances are slim. So, I'm considering taking another year to study."
"Why are you already thinking about repeating a year before even taking the exam? With that little confidence, you still want to get into Tsinghua? I told you to study hard before, but you didn't listen. Now you realize it's too late, don't you?"
I muttered, "I did want to study hard, but there were so many things going on at home—one thing after another. When did I ever have time to study?"
Mom shot me a glance. "And who caused all these things?"
I thought for a moment and said, "It's all Dad's fault. If he hadn't cheated back then, there wouldn't be An Nuo, and without An Nuo, none of this would have happened."
Mom let out a disdainful snort and went back to scrolling through her phone, ignoring me.
After finishing my noodles, I leaned against the sofa and let out a satisfied burp. After resting for a bit, I took the initiative to clean up the coffee table, then pulled out an English test paper and started working on it.
Mom checked the time on her phone and said to me, "It's getting late. You should head home soon."
I kept my head down, scribbling away, and mumbled in response, "Tomorrow's Sunday. No classes."
"Then you shouldn't stay too late."
My eyes darted around, and I grinned mischievously. "You have so many empty rooms here, and the sofa is fine to sleep on. I can make do for one night."
Mom looked up, about to say something, but I picked up the test papers and moved closer to her. "Could you take a look at this question for me?"
She shot me a glare, thought for a moment, and asked, "Which one?"
"This one, this one, this one, this one, and this one..."
"So you don't know any of them?"
...
By the time I finished the test papers, I checked the time on my phone—it was already half past eleven.
I stretched lazily, tidying up as I said, "Time to go home. Any later, and it'll be too dangerous. There are robbers, perverts, and drunkards causing trouble. Sigh! The public safety lately has really been terrible."
"Alright, alright, stop putting on an act. Sleep on the sofa tonight."
My scheme had succeeded. I chuckled, flipped over, and lay down on the sofa, stretching out comfortably with a contented hum.
Mom went into the room and brought me a pillow and a thin blanket, tossing them onto me. "Just for one night, and go home first thing tomorrow."
"Yes, ma'am!"
I often slept on the sofa anyway, so I didn't mind. In fact, I felt quite pleased with myself.
Early the next morning, I woke up and went to the kitchen to cook porridge. By the time Mom got up, breakfast was already prepared.
"You're quite diligent." I wasn't sure if Mom was teasing me, but I took it as a compliment anyway.
During the meal, Mom said to me, "I have some errands to run later. Once you're done eating, go home."
"It's so early. What would I do at home? I'm really annoyed with Annuo right now and don't want to see her. It's nice and quiet here. I'll just stay and study for a bit."
Of course, Mom knew I was making excuses. She glanced at me but didn't object, so I stayed.
After Mom left, I leaned over the coffee table to work on problems. Two hours passed in a flash. When I got up to stretch, I noticed the living room was a bit messy. Mom probably hadn't had time to tidy up, so I decided to do it for her.
To be honest, I'm usually quite lazy at home. My room is often a mess, like a dog's den, and I get scolded by Mom all the time.
But today, I felt particularly energetic while cleaning. I even scrubbed every nook and cranny.
Around noon, Mom returned with some fresh groceries. Seeing the room spotless and neatly organized, she looked surprised.
"You cleaned this?"
"Mhm." I nodded eagerly, as if seeking praise.
But instead of appreciating it, Mom scoffed. "You really have too much time on your hands. Instead of studying properly, you're playing housekeeper."
"School has physical education classes anyway. I was tired from studying and just wanted to stretch a bit." As I spoke, I swung my arms and kicked my legs, doing some light stretches.
Mom changed into her home clothes and picked up the shopping bag, heading to the kitchen. I followed closely behind and asked, "Do you need any help?"
Without looking back, she replied casually, "No need."
"I can assist you and learn some cooking skills from you."
Mom turned around and glared at me. "Are you planning to skip Tsinghua University and go to New Oriental instead?"
I knew exactly what she meant. Pouting, I obediently returned to the living room to work on my test papers.
About half an hour later, the food was brought to the coffee table. I couldn't resist reaching out to grab a piece of stir-fried meat and popped it into my mouth. Chewing it, I praised, "Mmm~! It really tastes like Mom's cooking. So fragrant~!"
I was about to reach for another piece when Mom suddenly tapped the back of my hand with her chopsticks and scolded, "Go wash your hands."
Although it stung, my heart felt warm. I happily skipped off to wash my hands, then sat down beside Mom to enjoy the long-awaited mother-child lunch.
"Mom, it's been so long since I've had your cooking. It's so good I could cry."
Faced with my flattery, Mom showed no reaction, making it feel like my praise had fallen on deaf ears.
Stealing a glance at her, I noticed her delicate face was lightly made up, looking as usual, yet unable to hide her weariness.
My heart stirred, and I asked softly, "When are you planning to come home?"
Mom kept her head down, eating, and ignored me, as if she hadn't heard at all.
After a while, I spoke again, "Are you just going to live alone like this forever?"
"There's nothing wrong with living alone. It's quiet and peaceful, and no one bothers me," Mom said casually while scrolling through her phone.
"Then…" I hesitated, lowering my head and whispering, "If you and Dad get divorced, can I live with you?"
Mom looked up at me and said without hesitation, "You're already eighteen, almost old enough to start your own family. Besides, if I have to drag a big burden like you around, how am I supposed to remarry?"
"Huh?" I was taken aback and quickly asked, "You want to remarry? Who do you want to marry?"
"None of your business!" Mom shot me a glare and went back to playing with her phone.
"No, but you…" I grew anxious and finally slammed my chopsticks down on the table, crossing my arms and sulking, refusing to eat.
Mom chuckled, "Oh, so you're throwing a tantrum now." Seeing that I still wouldn't eat, she said, "Alright, I was just teasing you. Who would I even remarry?"
I almost blurted out, "Marry me." But thankfully, reason prevailed, and I knew such a joke would be highly inappropriate and could easily lead to trouble.
After lunch, I lingered there for the rest of the afternoon. I had originally planned to stay for dinner, but Mom said she had something to do in the evening and sent me straight home.
Dad was at work, Bei Bei was at school, and only An Nuo was home, making the place feel cold and empty.
As I passed by An Nuo's room, I noticed the door was wide open and no one was inside. Listening carefully, I could hear the sound of running water from the bathroom—she must have been taking a shower.
I didn't think much of it at first, but when I accidentally spotted her phone on the bed, I suddenly remembered the video whose existence was uncertain. Hesitating for a moment, I took advantage of the perfect opportunity and slipped into her room.
Picking up her phone, I pondered the password.
There weren't many clues—aside from Dad's birthday, the only other possibility was our shared birthday.
I tried both, but neither worked.
This was getting tricky.
Just as I was racking my brain, a soft, sweet, and adorable voice suddenly sounded from behind me, "Brother, what are you doing?"
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