She fished a key from the pocket of her school uniform skirt with one hand, twisted it twice in the lock, and swung the door open.
Lin Zihan sidled into the apartment and shut the door behind her, calling out toward the inner rooms out of habit.
“Mom, I’m home!”
~~~
No response came.
Lin Zihan’s mother should have been home, though.
Well, a lack of reply was perfectly normal. Lin Zihan had long since grown used to returning to an empty welcome.
She set the beef on a nearby rack and slipped into slippers in the entryway.
Her home wasn’t small at all. In this mid-range apartment building, theirs ranked among the largest units—a generous 160 square meters arranged in a modern three-bedroom, two-living-room layout.
The furniture and decor might have been a little worn, but everything a home needed was there: air conditioner, fridge, TV, the works.
After all, this was the only property the Lin Family had left her—the last safety net for her and her mother’s life together.
No matter how tough or frugal things got, as long as they had this place—a roof over their heads—it wasn’t so bad!
There was real wisdom in that saying.
These days, countless young people busted their backs just for a shot at owning their own apartment!
Lin Zihan smiled to herself. Having a place like this always made her feel grateful.
She picked up the beef and passed the tightly shut door of the master bedroom at the front of the living room without pausing. Continuing on to the kitchen, she carefully filled a small steel basin with water and dumped all the precut beef into it to wash clean.
She rinsed it thoroughly two or three times, tied on an apron, set the beef on the cutting board to chop, minced some garlic and green onions, fired up the range hood, and heated oil in the wok. In between steps, she measured out rice for the cooker. Lin Zihan handled it all with ease.
These past years, she’d been cooking for herself. She could manage it blindfolded.
“Hiss…!”
Okay, maybe not blindfolded.
Lin Zihan wasn’t paying attention, and the knife slipped across her finger, nicking the skin.
Her impossibly fair and tender finger soon welled up with a small smear of bright red blood.
She paid it no mind, simply bringing the cut to her lips—like delicate cherry petals—and sucking gently to staunch the flow. Paired with the play of light in her right crimson eye, the gesture made her look heartbreakingly vulnerable.
But she was only stopping the bleed! She just had one of those naturally expressive faces—what could she do about it?
She rinsed it under the faucet, and the trickle had already stopped.
She couldn’t understand those people online who carried on like a fingertip cut was the end of the world. Ignore it long enough, and it healed on its own, right?
With the beef now simmering in the pot, Lin Zihan clapped on the lid, untied her apron, and left the kitchen.
She headed to the middle room she’d passed earlier and knocked twice on the door.
“Mom? Time for lunch.”
Still no answer.
That usually meant her mom was asleep.
Lin Zihan didn’t wait around. Her mother never locked her door, so she depressed the handle and pushed inside.
The room’s atmosphere immediately clashed with the airy brightness of the living room outside.
Curtains drawn tight, not a sliver of light penetrating; the space was stuffy and suffocating, hard to draw breath in. Lin Zihan wrinkled her nose.
She glanced toward the master bed. Sure enough, her mother lay huddled beneath the covers, sleeping.
Golden locks, the same shade as Lin Zihan’s, spilled across the thin blanket—but in the gloom, they looked dull and lifeless.
In truth, the woman was already awake.
The sliver of light from Lin Zihan opening the door had ended any chance of returning to sleep.
The woman’s name was Elsa, a Northern European native and Lin Zihan’s mother—the one person she could rely on in this world.
Though shy of forty, faint wrinkles already creased the face that had once turned heads everywhere. Her hair lay in a sleep-tousled mess, utterly unkempt.
She looked up at Lin Zihan, her eyes vacant and gaze unfocused—whether from drowsiness or something deeper, it was hard to say.
Lin Zihan sighed inwardly.
Even as her own mood darkened, she spoke with her usual bright smile, light and effortless.
“Mom, I bought beef today. Lunch is ready.”
“Zihan… didn’t I tell you not to get beef or lamb? It’s too pricey, and you can’t pick a good cut anyway.”
“Don’t sell me short, Mom. Your daughter’s grown up now—beef or lamb’s no sweat. Get up already. Eat, then nap afterward. So… how was the flower shop today?”
A flicker of guilt sparked in Elsa’s weary eyes.
She rose and ran a brush from the vanity through her hair, her voice subdued.
“A little less than yesterday… No holidays mean fresh flowers don’t move.”
“No biggie!” Lin Zihan’s grin was fearless as ever. “No holiday today? There’s always tomorrow! If they don’t sell now, they might boom then. No rush. Okay, okay, I’ll stop yapping—come eat. Beef’s almost stewed.”
Lin Zihan turned and strode from the room toward the kitchen.
She bit her lip, a faint tremble running through it, but an instant later she was cheerful once more.
At this hour, Mom was always catching a nap.
The flower shop demanded early mornings for arranging bouquets and tending plants, so wake-up came with the dawn.
Early to rise meant a midday shutdown followed by sleep to recharge; afternoons brought her back to mind the store.
That was the reason Lin Zihan had taught herself to cook—to lighten Mom’s load, even a little.
Mother and daughter… they’d scraped by these years, holding each other up.
Elsa lifted the bowl of rice topped with freshly simmered beef and shoveled in a big mouthful. Across the table, Lin Zihan watched eagerly.
“Well? Good, right? Stew time was short, but the heat was spot-on! If you like it, I’ll do it this way next time.”
“Mm… it’s fine, Zihan. What made you think of beef today?”
“Well, that’s because…!”
The words halted on her tongue.
Lin Zihan considered, then settled on her excuse.
“I placed second in the class on the training exam. Tough to pull off… so beef for a celebration? Not too much, right?”
Second was as good as it got!
Who asked for first to go to that freak Ye Zhiyun? Near-perfect scores across every subject—totally off the charts!
But… Lin Zihan knew better.
Mom wouldn’t settle for that.
Her outlook had warped into something extreme.
Pathologically so.
Sure enough, Elsa abruptly set down her bowl and chopsticks.
Her appetite gone in a flash.
Those vacant eyes bored into Lin Zihan’s right crimson one, sending a shiver through her.
The voice carried an edge of accusation, icing Lin Zihan’s heart.
“Second place… so why not first?”
“Ahaha… Mom, first is brutal. I told you before—our school’s full of top talent. This is already my best…”
“But you’re the Eldest Miss of the Lin Family. You can’t lose to anyone, Zihan… How will you outdo that worthless father of yours? Top student at Capital University, and what did he do? Ditched us mother and daughter to run off. If you can’t even top him, then what?”
Ahh, here we go again.
Lin Zihan quietly laid down her own bowl and chopsticks.
Any hunger for beef had vanished.
Sunlight poured brilliantly over the little dining table.
Yet now a pall hung over it, thick and unshakable.
Elsa’s reproaches kept pouring into Lin Zihan’s ears.
“I’ve slaved away my whole life… all for you, Zihan. Mom lives for you. Everything—it’s so you can thrive… Even if I drop dead, it’s to see you rise. You have to make it happen…”
Sigh.
Which was exactly why Lin Zihan said it.
Mom was sick.
