Ever since Cheng Dong passed away, Ye Xiaomei’s health had not been good, and she hadn’t gathered the energy to go to work. She was originally the lead actress at the opera troupe in the neighboring city, performing for over ten years—from lead roles to supporting roles to semi-backstage work. She had originally planned to apply for early retirement in a few years, but now she could no longer handle the performance lifestyle. She had taken several months of leave. The troupe, sympathetic to her difficulties, had issued her salary and bonuses in full for these months. But personal favors couldn’t be taken as duty—the troupe couldn’t take care of her forever. Ye Xiaomei was asking people to help find her a relatively easy and stable job teaching Yue opera locally, but such opportunities were scarce in a small place.
Fortunately, the family hadn’t had any major expenses before. Ye Xiaomei managed the household frugally and had saved a considerable sum for retirement. Plus, the government’s compensation was about to arrive, so their standard of living hadn’t immediately declined.
But in the future, Lele would need to attend university, find work, get married—living expenses would be unavoidable. Ye Xiaomei calculated the family accounts in her mind while silently picking up food with her chopsticks.
Mother and daughter each had their own worries. The only sound in the room was the clinking of cups, plates, bowls, and chopsticks.
The landline phone’s ring abruptly shattered the peace. Both were startled back to their senses. Cheng Lele ran over to answer—it was Wang Liting, whom they hadn’t contacted in a long time.
“Good evening, Godmother.”
She called out softly. From the corner of her eye, she saw her mom’s chopsticks pause. Mom walked over quietly and silently mouthed: “Looking for me?”
Cheng Lele shook her head, but Mom didn’t leave. She stood beside her and even pressed the speakerphone button.
Cheng Lele had no choice but to set down the handset. Mom seemed to have some kind of bad premonition—on her thin face, the nasolabial folds were especially pronounced.
These past few months, Mom had aged several years all at once.
Cheng Lele returned her attention to the phone call.
Ever since she answered the phone, Godmother hadn’t made a sound.
Cheng Lele said “Hello?”
The other side finally responded, her tone serious and cold: “Lele, An’an refused the national training team, refused the recommendation to Tsinghua and Peking University, and is contacting Z University’s admissions office himself. Did you know about this?”
Cheng Lele hesitated for a moment. Chen An hadn’t told her he wasn’t even going to the national training team.
Wang Liting’s voice trembled: “You knew, didn’t you?”
“I—”
“I stopped you from calling him back then, and you resented me. You encouraged him to do this to get revenge on me, didn’t you?”
Wang Liting’s words were like television drama lines that had nothing to do with her life—ethereal and distant. Cheng Lele was stunned: “I didn’t, Godmother. Why would I—”
Wang Liting had no patience to let her finish. Once suppressed emotions got started, they were like a sweater with a pulled thread—a gentle tug and it became an endless tangled mess. She pressed aggressively: “Your dad is gone. You can’t go anywhere. You have to stay in the province to take care of your mom. It’s good that you’re filial. But why are you dragging An’an down with you? He won first place nationally in math olympiad, he’s someone rushing into the training team. Why should he ruin his future for you people?! How can you be so selfish? How can you bear it?”
The window blew open, and a terrifying gale rushed in. The photo frame on the TV cabinet, showing the six members of both families together, was swaying precariously in the wind.
Each word Wang Liting spat out was like bullets hitting Cheng Lele’s heart. She explained frantically: “I didn’t, Godmother. Little brother said Z University—”
“If not for you, how could he possibly choose Z University! Z University was never in his plans—only Tsinghua and Peking University! Don’t you know An’an’s aspirations? Don’t you understand his pride? How could he possibly lower himself to attend some lousy Z University!”
Ye Xiaomei finally couldn’t listen anymore. She pulled away Cheng Lele, who stood there like a wooden chicken, leaned toward the phone and retorted sharply: “Wang Liting, don’t go too far. Lele isn’t as despicable as you think. Your son won’t listen to you—instead of looking for the reason in yourself, you blame it on my family? What kind of reasoning is that? Whether he wants to study at Tsinghua, Peking University, Oxford, or Cambridge, we won’t stop him. In the future when he’s successful and wealthy, it will have nothing to do with our Cheng family. We won’t cling to his coattails later, and we won’t hold him back now either.”
Ye Xiaomei was emotionally agitated. The cough she’d developed a while ago hadn’t completely healed. She coughed for a long time. When she calmed down a bit, she said: “Things have come to this point. Let’s stop putting on appearances from now on. Lele, come here and make her a promise—say you won’t play with An’an anymore.”
She pulled Cheng Lele over.
“Mom, I won’t—” Cheng Lele started crying. “Why are you adults bullying people like this?”
Cheng Lele didn’t understand. Last time when Godmother didn’t let little brother come back for the funeral, the Chen family and Cheng family became two separate families. This time they were talking about the recommendation, so how did it develop into her and little brother not being allowed to associate? Did these adults even care about reason?
Cheng Lele leaned toward the phone: “Godmother, you watched me grow up too. Do you really think I’m that kind of person? If you think little brother did something wrong, I’ll go persuade him. He’ll definitely listen to me—”
With a sharp “smack,” Ye Xiaomei’s slap fell without warning, cutting off Cheng Lele’s words in the middle: “Are you a fool? Chen An is a dragon destined to soar through the heavens. If he follows behind you, a green caterpillar, every day, what future will he have? He doesn’t even go home for New Year anymore, treating me like his real mother, treating Cheng Dong like his real father—worshipping them like that. Even the university he’s planning to attend, he dares to hide it from his family. The Chen family doesn’t distrust you—they’re afraid of you. She’s afraid Chen An listens to everything you say! She’s afraid you’ll lead Chen An astray! She regrets leaving Chen An here in the first place, letting us raise him wrong! Don’t you understand?!”
Cheng Lele cried until she couldn’t catch her breath: “I didn’t, Godmother, I didn’t. I don’t want to be separated from little brother. What’s wrong with all of you… Aren’t we all one family? I’m going to find Grandma Chen. Grandma Chen will definitely help us!”
Ye Xiaomei collapsed beside the telephone, shouting at her daughter’s retreating back: “Lele, do you have no self-respect at all? Do you want to watch your mother die too?”
Cheng Lele shook her head desperately, tears flowing endlessly like a bursting dam. Her mind was in complete chaos—Did I do something wrong? Why are Mom and Godmother joining forces to pressure me? Does little brother know about this? Where is little brother…
The photo frame on the TV cabinet swayed back and forth for quite a while before finally falling to the ground with a harsh sound.
On the other end of the phone, Wang Liting wrapped things up: “Xiaomei, thank you.”