During his vocational high school years, Chen Yi rarely went to school. He just paid the tuition, attended a few days of classes each month, took the exams, and waited for his graduation certificate after three years.

He knew a friend who repaired motorcycles, with an empty warehouse behind the auto repair shop where he could set up a bed to sleep. There were many places to hang out—internet cafes, pool halls, taekwondo gyms, arcades. When the call about Chen Libin’s incident reached the school and then made its way to Chen Yi through friends several days later, by the time he got to the ICU and saw the person on the hospital bed, Chen Yi’s reaction was probably like swallowing a dud shell.

He had thought father and son would remain bitter enemies for life, but Chen Libin suddenly collapsed—his mother had committed suicide when he had just started elementary school. Though Chen Libin appeared gentle and kind, he was cruel and venomous in private. After his wife’s death, his mouth became completely clean. Thereafter, father and son lived alone, experiencing many bitter moments. Whether they were truly father and son was hard to say—Chen Libin never took him for a paternity test. Some said he looked like his mother, but some features resembled his father, especially the eyes. Others said he didn’t look like either parent at all; this child was full of vitality and energy, unlike his quiet, refined father. Now it didn’t matter anymore—the man was dying anyway, everything would be settled, all grudges resolved.

Chen Libin remained unconscious, transferred to the respiratory care unit with a nasogastric tube and ventilator. In the private room, family members provided round-the-clock care, mainly Chen Yi keeping watch. Wei Mingzhen would come when free, and Miao Jing, being on summer break, was specifically responsible for delivering meals.

Chen Yi wouldn’t eat the boxed meals Miao Jing brought, nor let her deliver them. He had many friends who would bring him changes of clothes, buy razors and soap, and bring late-night snacks. The only time he asked Miao Jing for anything was to buy cigarettes from the convenience store. Watching over a deathly still person day and night, regardless of their relationship, was certainly depressing and gloomy. He carried an acrid, bitter tobacco smell.

“Hongtashan, seventy yuan a carton.”

Miao Jing held the money, looking at the red bloodshot vessels in his eyes and the light blue stubble on his chin.

“Such cheap cigarettes… can you even smoke these?” she said weakly.

“Cheap?” Chen Yi raised an eyebrow and glanced at her, his smile strange, voice hoarse. “Are you very rich?”

Miao Jing pressed her lips together, lowered her head, and turned to leave. Twenty minutes later she brought back the cigarettes. He unwrapped the package and asked her to watch the room for a while. He twisted his neck and lazily dragged his steps outside. When he returned, he washed his face in the bathroom and seemed more energetic, his gaze sweeping over Miao Jing.

A year without seeing her, this girl had grown ten centimeters taller, standing before him like a slender bamboo pole. He didn’t need to deliberately lower his head; just lifting his eyelids slightly he could see her alert, tense little face.

“Where’s your mom? At home preparing for the funeral? Tell her to come watch for a couple of days.” He smiled coldly. “Or is she waiting for his last breath before coming?”

Miao Jing didn’t dare speak. These past few days, Wei Mingzhen had told her to visit the hospital more often while she hadn’t gone to work at the tea house, yet wasn’t idle at all—either going out on errands or rummaging through boxes at home looking for things. Miao Jing knew she had gone to the bank several times, looking unwell. One night she had secretly gone out and didn’t return until past four in the morning.

She had many wild thoughts of her own.

After returning home, when Miao Jing told Wei Mingzhen that Chen Yi wanted her to come help at the hospital, she frowned slightly but said nothing, packed some clothes, and went to the hospital, instructing Miao Jing to stay home and deliver meals on time.

Chen Yi and Wei Mingzhen crossed paths at the hospital bed. Chen Libin still lay stiff, and Wei Mingzhen touched his withered hand while crying. Chen Yi’s gloomy gaze observed for a moment before lazily shifting away. Yawning, he made room for her, left a phone number, and left, without saying when he’d return.

Wei Mingzhen had never liked Chen Yi and would have preferred he didn’t come back, but that wasn’t possible either. Chen Libin lay in bed lingering, showing no signs of change—who knew what the outcome would be? She was anxious and frustrated, hatred gnawing at her heart. What if Chen Libin eventually woke up, or became a vegetable? What then? Who would take care of him?

Only Miao Jing was left at home.

Weighed down by worries, she couldn’t sleep well. Early the next morning, just as dawn was breaking, she drifted through the living room in her strapped nightgown, accidentally glimpsing someone lying on the sofa in the dim light. Looking closer, she saw two long legs dangling off the edge. Startled, her scalp tingling, she screamed and retreated to her room.

Chen Yi had climbed through the window late at night, only lying down for a few hours when her high-pitched scream disturbed him. Irritated, he raised his head and bellowed: “What are you screaming about?”

Hearing his voice, Miao Jing finally calmed down, her heart trembling as she lay in bed stunned. When she changed clothes and came out of her room over an hour later, Chen Yi was curled up on the sofa looking at his phone. Seeing her numb expression, he mockingly asked with a cold face: “Saw a ghost?”

He hadn’t been back for a year—if not a ghost, what else?

“No,” she stood against the wall, keeping far from him. “Why did you come back?”

Chen Yi gave her a cool glance without speaking, running his hand through his ash-gray hair which stood up rebelliously. He got up and went to the bathroom, water splashing loudly, then came out bringing a wave of cool air, throwing all his dirty clothes from the past few days into the washing machine. Miao Jing was making noodles in the kitchen, and through the kitchen window saw him sitting on the balcony smoking, half his body hanging out the window. She hesitantly poked her head out to ask if he wanted breakfast. Chen Yi flicked his cigarette butt out the window, jumped down from the balcony, and answered with two words: not eating.

The old washing machine rumbled on as Miao Jing sat at the table eating breakfast. She caught glimpses of Chen Yi surveying the house twice, then striding directly into Wei Mingzhen and Chen Libin’s bedroom. She heard the sound of drawers being pulled open, knowing Chen Yi was searching for something. Her heart pounded—perhaps what he was looking for had already been taken by Wei Mingzhen… Then Chen Yi turned on the desktop computer on the desk, sitting at the computer table, and clicking away at the keyboard.

At noon when Miao Jing was about to go out to deliver lunch to Wei Mingzhen, Chen Yi was still sitting at the computer. As she stepped out the door, he called to her, lazily coming over with a cigarette between his lips, wearing a floral shirt and jeans, leaning as if boneless, head lowered as he repeatedly flicked the lighter to light his cigarette. As the smoke rose, he blew out the flame in one breath, a wisp of scorching air brushing her face as he lifted his eyes to stare directly at her.

“Don’t tell your mom, understand?” The smoke drifted across her face. “You know the consequences, right?”

“I know…” Miao Jing lowered her head submissively, clutching the lunch box tightly.

He smiled at her, light dancing in his eyes like floating ice fragments, his large hand poking her shoulder as he pushed her out the door.

When Miao Jing returned from the hospital, the house was empty without a trace of anyone, the clothes had been taken from the washing machine, with only a cigarette butt left in the trash can.

–

Because they had signed a form refusing treatment in the ICU, the regular ward’s medical facilities were insufficient, and someone had to stay with the patient at all times. Wei Mingzhen could only watch the bed constantly, chatting on her phone while keeping an eye on Chen Libin and the IV bags on the wall. She also had to regularly change the urine bag and clean his body. Chen Yi hadn’t slacked off on this point—the doctor said they needed to closely monitor the patient’s condition and press the call button immediately if there was any abnormal breathing or other changes.

The next night, Wei Mingzhen hazily heard a very faint groan from the hospital room. She went closer to listen but heard nothing more. Looking carefully at Chen Libin’s waxy, dark complexion, he had been reduced to an emaciated shell of skin and bones. Wei Mingzhen felt pity looking at him, though hatred still gleamed in her eyes. Around three or four in the morning, she seemed to hear movement from the bed again. Wei Mingzhen went over nervously, bending down close to Chen Libin’s face to listen. There were scratching sounds, like struggling and unwillingness. The man’s eyeballs rolled repeatedly under his eyelids as if desperately trying to open his eyes and wake up. His legs also twitched unconsciously, kicking against the bed and making noise.

Two or three times throughout the night this happened. Wei Mingzhen stood frozen by the bed, at a complete loss. She wanted to press the button to call a doctor but hesitated in her panic, breaking out in cold sweat as she stared wide-eyed at Chen Libin on the bed. When sunlight finally entered the room, the person on the bed had returned to deathly stillness. Only when the IV bag ran empty did she think to go to the nurses’ station for a new drip.

As she turned around, Wei Mingzhen was nearly frightened out of her wits, collapsing into a chair with a cry. Chen Yi leaned lazily against the doorway with folded arms, his dark eyes carrying a piercing, mocking smile: “Auntie. Standing for so long… is my father still alive?”

Wei Mingzhen’s face turned ashen: “You, when did you get here?”

“Just arrived.” Chen Yi shrugged his shoulders, his bright gaze seemingly carrying deeper meaning. “Afraid my father won’t make it through these few days, came early to fulfill my filial duties.”

In the morning when doctors and nurses came to do rounds and change medications, they checked Chen Libin’s condition and asked how the patient was doing. Wei Mingzhen said there had been no movement at all. The doctor shook his head with a sigh. Later Miao Jing also came to the hospital, seeing Chen Yi and Wei Mingzhen sitting far apart in the room, both expressionless. She carried a box of peeled fruit, wearing a white dress with light green patterns, her cheeks reddened by the sun, her features softened by the heat waves, as she distributed the fruit between the two of them.

“Mom.”

“Brother.”

The cool, sweet fruit felt refreshing in their mouths. Miao Jing sat next to Wei Mingzhen, who nervously held one of her hands, seemingly trying to avoid Chen Yi’s gaze.

Chen Libin didn’t last many days.

His coma worsened day by day—respiratory failure, dilated pupils, cardiac arrest. The hospital officially pronounced him dead.

Everything moved quickly from the hospital to the funeral home to the cemetery. Wei Mingzhen busily arranged everything—hospital settlement, funeral arrangements, notifying Chen Libin’s work unit, and relatives. Chen Yi and Miao Jing stayed with Chen Libin’s body, following from the hospital to the funeral home to burial, receiving the steady stream of mourners coming to pay their respects.

Chen Yi wore mourning clothes and held the memorial photo, head lowered, his whole person somber and gaunt. His features were deeply etched in dark ink, and combined with his distinctively dyed hair, he carried an air of cold, rebellious tenacity. With both parents dead, the Chen family was left with just a sixteen-year-old son and an unrelated mother-daughter pair. There was much private speculation—how would this household continue? What would become of Chen Yi?

After the funeral was handled, Chen Yi returned home with Wei Mingzhen and Miao Jing. Wei Mingzhen had become the head of the household, her manner particularly gentle and soft when hosting visitors. Chen Libin’s belongings at home and work needed to be dealt with. She carefully sought Chen Yi’s opinion; he showed no attachment, either throwing things away or giving them away, even giving the computer to someone else.

Regarding the family’s future life, before Wei Mingzhen could figure it out—Chen Yi seemed to have changed his wild, unrestrained character, staying home smoking every day, and filling the house with a haze of smoke. He would occasionally go out but return through the window at night, sleeping on the sofa.

Chen Yi hadn’t properly lived at home for several years, and the sudden addition of a young hoodlum didn’t feel comfortable. Wei Mingzhen couldn’t drive him away, but seeing someone sprawled brazenly on the sofa every morning—Wei Mingzhen had a guilty conscience and didn’t dare speak up about giving Chen Yi a room, fearing he would permanently settle in. Those pitch-black, ice-cold eyes of his would occasionally fall on her back, making her heart shudder.

The family of three maintained a peaceful surface, but undercurrents surged beneath the calm waters, concealing who knew how many ulterior motives.

Miao Jing vaguely felt the household atmosphere was like the eerie calm before a storm.

It was one afternoon when Chen Yi returned from outside, seeing the mother and daughter eating lunch at the dining table. He lazily pulled out a chair to sit down, frivolously lit a cigarette, and tilted his chin to ask Wei Mingzhen: “Has the money been transferred yet?”

Miao Jing froze with her chopsticks, looking at her mother, then at Chen Yi. Wei Mingzhen’s expression stiffened: “What money?”

“My father’s insurance compensation, bereavement payment.” Chen Yi counted on his fingers, his tone not at all polite. “It’s been so long, and you haven’t said a word?”

Wei Mingzhen had been busy with these matters lately. The power bureau was such a good workplace—the compensation and insurance money was a considerable sum.

Wei Mingzhen spoke through clenched teeth, her face ashen, hesitating for a long time: “This money, it hasn’t been transferred yet… it’s meant for your education and living expenses…”

Chen Yi’s smile was ice-cold: “How long were you married to my father? Not long, right? You couldn’t have children before, he kept putting off getting the marriage certificate. Wasn’t it just registered these past year or two? Why get registered? Did you want to split the assets and leave? Now he’s dead, you’re occupying the house? Planning to swallow up the money too?”

His long fingers tapped on the dining table, his gaze sinister, tone fierce: “I want those compensation payments.”

“The other money can be yours.” He grinned again. “No one loses out.”

“What other money is there in the family?” Touched on a sore spot, Wei Mingzhen’s voice suddenly became sharp and shrill, her eyes full of hatred. “Chen Libin said the family had savings of several hundred thousand, made over a million from stocks, all bullshit, bullshit! That mongrel, the bank statements he showed me were all fake, everything was lost, and the remaining money was all sent to those wild women online, transfers of thousands at a time. When I asked him for money he was so stingy, not stingy, he simply had no money!”

Wei Mingzhen had truly gone mad with hatred in private. She checked all of Chen Libin’s accounts, turning everything upside down, but couldn’t find that one or two million in funds. She didn’t believe it, and checked again and again, finally finding that the card balances added up to just tens of thousands, and after deducting hospital and funeral expenses, there was almost nothing left. Now she was only counting on these death benefits, compensation of several hundred thousand! Six years spent on Chen Libin, washing clothes, cooking meals, catering to his every whim, and he was just a penniless man who had deceived her for six years with nothing but lies. He deserved to die from that fall.

If she could have this house, plus this money, Wei Mingzhen might barely be able to swallow this bitter pill. How could she tolerate Chen Yi trying to snatch it from her? What right did he have to fight her for it? Father and son were such bitter enemies—a bastard, not his real son, what right did he have to this money?!

Wei Mingzhen’s complexion had deteriorated to the extreme, the muscles in her face twitching with restraint. Miao Jing shrank in her chair, head hanging low, trying to make herself invisible. Chen Yi looked at the mother and daughter before him and couldn’t help but burst out laughing, holding his stomach and laughing until tears came out.

It wasn’t clear if he was laughing at their stupidity or their pitiful state.

“Just this money left?” The young face wore a smile both roguish and savage. “You keep the house, I’ll take the money.”

“The money hasn’t been transferred, there’s not even a shadow of it.” Wei Mingzhen shot to her feet, her face flushed red, her whole body trembling. “This money, this money is needed for education, living expenses, we still need to live…”

“Then we’ll wait for the money to arrive, but if you dare to keep it all for yourself, or try to take the money and run…” He stared at Wei Mingzhen, his eyes deep as well and fierce enough to devour someone: “I’ll dig up everything you’ve done… make your life interesting.”

What good could come from opposing such a lawless young hoodlum?

Wei Mingzhen collapsed dizzily into her chair: “What would I run from, this is my home… Miao Jing still needs to go to school, take her exams, she needs to attend a key high school…”

Chen Yi’s gaze flickered—indeed, Miao Jing still needed her education. As long as he kept watch over Miao Jing, where could this mother-daughter pair run to?

Miao Jing’s face was pale but calm, silently bearing the weight of both their gazes—what could she do? She could do nothing.

–

Time drifted on until Miao Jing’s start of ninth grade—Wei Mingzhen told Miao Jing to go register at school and stay in the dormitory.

Chen Yi lounged on the sofa playing games, hearing the mother-daughter conversation but not moving a muscle, not even lifting an eyelid.

The mother and daughter spoke privately in whispers. Wei Mingzhen told Miao Jing to minimize contact with Chen Yi, be careful at school, and go to her homeroom teacher if anything happened. Miao Jing asked about the compensation and insurance money, but Wei Mingzhen revealed nothing, only saying she didn’t want the house, and would leave it to Chen Yi, she wanted the money—a large sum, adding up to seventy or eighty thousand. Wei Mingzhen didn’t want Chen Yi to know, afraid he would get greedy and take it all, afraid he would do something extreme for this money.

“Mom, this is Chen Yi’s father’s money…” Miao Jing swallowed, frowning. “Don’t fight with Chen Yi.”

“It was Chen Libin who deceived me, he said he had millions, said even if we divorced I could get over a million.” Wei Mingzhen gritted her teeth. “Chen Yi isn’t Chen Libin’s son, if we give him this money, he’ll waste it on gambling and squandering. Chen Libin would jump out of his coffin in anger.”

“Mom…”

“Don’t side with Chen Yi, I’m your mother, who is he?”

Wei Mingzhen had her plans. During registration, she gave Miao Jing several thousand extra yuan, telling her to hide it in the school dormitory—you never know when it might be needed.

–

That day, Wei Mingzhen left early in the morning, saying she needed to go to the power bureau to ask about the news. She left empty-handed, circled the city several times, and finally took a taxi to the train station, calling Miao Jing’s homeroom teacher on the way.

Miao Jing answered the phone, hearing her mother say in a lowered voice that in half an hour, a man would pick her up at the school gate, and she should go with him to the train station, tickets were already bought.

The call ended abruptly. Miao Jing’s mind went completely blank, her heart in her throat, her steps feeling like she was walking on clouds.

Was Wei Mingzhen planning to… run away with her?

She walked out in a daze, stood at the school gate for a while, and sure enough, there was a man—one she had seen before, who had connections with Wei Mingzhen. He grabbed her directly to get in a taxi. Miao Jing backed away trembling, and the man anxiously said her mother had already left Teng City by train and was waiting for them to join her at the next station.

“Where are we going?” Her face was pale, with cold sweat on her forehead. “Did you plan this?”

“Get in the car first, hurry, hurry, the train station isn’t close.”

The man grabbed Miao Jing’s arm to get her into the taxi. Miao Jing, completely at a loss, took two steps forward when Bo Zi suddenly rushed over from the side, fiercely reaching to grab her. Miao Jing jumped in shock, stunned by the sudden situation, being pulled left and right by the two men. She heard Bo Zi shouting harshly: “Help!! Someone’s kidnapping! Someone’s kidnapping a student!!”

Bo Zi’s voice was particularly shrill: “Help!! Help!! Call the police, 110, quick, call the police!”

The security guards at the school gate heard the commotion and rushed out. Hearing the words “call the police,” the man realized the situation was bad, yelped, jumped into the taxi, and fled, abandoning Miao Jing.

As the security guards gathered around, Bo Zi released Miao Jing and said with a grin that it was just a joke. After being questioned for a few moments, someone called out from not far away: “Sister.”

Chen Yi strode over.

Miao Jing’s entire body went rigid as stone, mechanically turning her head to fearfully meet his handsome face wearing a smile and those pitch-black, extremely sinister eyes.