Chapter 3: MAMA-03

MAMA-03: One-on-One Mommy Service.

Mi Shanxin shook her head. “No.”

The business card’s background pattern was gold-stamped tulips. Although it was very textured, it was now crumpled beyond recognition.

Nowadays, even meal cards used electronic codes. Mi Shanxin’s impression of business cards was still from before her parents divorced, when her father kept a box of expired cards on the table. Back then, he was about to be posted overseas for many years and demanded her mother go with him.

The two were constantly quarreling. Elementary school student Mi Shanxin sat to the side, slowly eating her meal, while the TV played a legal program that had been rerun she didn’t know how many times.

She was pondering who she would be assigned to. Following her dad meant going overseas. Following her mom meant perhaps leaving this city.

She never expected her mother wouldn’t want her either. She was awarded to her father, who had better economic conditions, but was dumped at her grandparents’ house.

The TV was no longer a 65-inch screen. From then on, she could only watch opera programs with her grandparents.

Mi Shanxin had also forgotten what format her father’s business cards were. This current card easily reminded her of Jian Wanji’s face, her pretty and bright eyes. She wondered if she, like her friend, also had a daughter.

Mi Shanxin looked a lot like her mother, with a pair of large eyes. Unfortunately, her personality wasn’t lively. She went from being a cute big-eyed girl to a big-eyed heartless one, and she didn’t find it very insulting.

“Why didn’t you call the police?” Li Yin was the same age as Mi Shanxin, just a few months older. She already had a high level of empathy with her own mother. Raising a kid was tough. She couldn’t feel at ease letting her go out.

Even though she often had dinner with Mi Shanxin during winter break, a pervert still found an opportunity.

Perverts didn’t differentiate between male and female. Their fetishes were challenges to moral decay!

“I was going to call the police at first,” The line moved, and Mi Shanxin walked forward too. “Her friend told me she didn’t mean it.”

“And you just believed that? They’re definitely in cahoots. They want to traffic you, or sign you up and enslave you.” Li Yin grabbed Mi Shanxin’s shoulder. The other girl was just too thin and small. Any random middle schooler looked more energetic than Mi Shanxin. “Have you forgotten the anti-fraud seminar the school held before break? Lots of people who sign with internet celebrity companies can’t leave. They have to pay huge penalties, and then…”

“And then this life is over.” Mi Shanxin answered calmly while looking up at Li Yin’s anxious face. “You’re gripping my shoulder too hard. It hurts.”

Li Yin immediately let go. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Mi Shanxin finished speaking. The server confirmed their order number and led them inside. During the meal, Mi Shanxin relayed to Li Yin what Zeng Baian had told her.

Including both parents’ deaths, being raised by her grandmother, now having a successful career, and her company being verifiable on Tianyancha.

“You just believe whatever they say?” Li Yin covered her face. The sizzling grilled meat in front of her didn’t seem delicious anymore. It was Mi Shanxin who was busy grilling the meat, as if her eyes contained only meat and more meat.

“Mi Shanxin, answer my question.”

“Oh… what question?” Mi Shanxin looked up, a bit lost. “What did you just say?”

She was still like this. Her attention span was very narrow. Grilling meat was just grilling meat. Hot pot was just hot pot. Whoever was in front of her, she could only see that one person.

Li Yin sometimes felt Mi Shanxin’s world was a palm-sized box. The outside world was full of changing winds and clouds, but inside, she remained perfectly content, unafraid of the unpredictable future. It seemed like just eating her fill and waiting to sleep was enough.

Sleep was the only issue plaguing her, rendering her unable to ingest any caffeine. She hadn’t exchanged Li Yin’s gift card for a mug. She kept ordering steamed milk at the shop, only later switching to Frappuccinos.

She didn’t know Li Yin kept topping up the card. She thought her friend had won a big prize.

“Forget it. Just eat your meat.” Li Yin sighed. Mi Shanxin placed a piece of crispy grilled pork belly into her bowl. “Your favorite.”

Li Yin and Mi Shanxin attended different universities. When she met Mi Shanxin in high school, she was already this spacey.

Some classmates who went to the same middle school as Mi Shanxin mentioned that people used to bully Mi Shanxin at her old school.

Because she was too old-fashioned, and not just in the honest sense. She lacked common topics with her peers. She had zero interest in chasing celebrities, nor did she watch comics or TV dramas. She seemed to like reading novels. Someone had interacted with her about it, but they couldn’t seem to chat on the same wavelength and didn’t continue.

Describing someone as “old-fashioned” was honestly not a good label at their age.

During school, Mi Shanxin always wore her school uniform. At first, Li Yin hadn’t seen her outside of school.

Her impression was that even during PE class, when Mi Shanxin took off her jacket, the material of the sweater inside was very stiff. The collar rubbed her chin so much it turned red. She seemed used to it, touching the spot each time, saying it didn’t hurt, just a bit itchy.

Her family’s financial situation wasn’t easy to hide. Even without taking off the school uniform, you could tell from her shoes and backpack.

Li Yin’s parents were a lawyer and a doctor. She was raised in a free-range style, at least never having to worry about living expenses. From getting close to Mi Shanxin until they became friends, she had never once heard Mi Shanxin mention money.

She never joined the Sunday birthday activities of the girls in her class. Even if everyone went to the cheapest Italian restaurant, Mi Shanxin wouldn’t go. She said her grandfather wanted her to learn calligraphy.

With such a poor family background, why learn calligraphy? Li Yin didn’t understand, and neither did the other classmates.

The class president, who had looked at Mi Shanxin’s records, said her parents divorced long ago and she lived with her grandparents. Her grandfather worked as a security guard somewhere before retiring. Her grandmother previously worked in the community cafeteria, sending a top student to study abroad.

It sounded like life had improved a lot. Later, through Mi Shanxin’s unemotional narration, Li Yin understood the reason for her free-spirited parents’ eventual resentment towards each other.

Students who had studied overseas came back with a child and got married. The dispute over the overseas posting might be the most insignificant reason for their breakup. The fact that her father and mother remarried one after another, and had new children back-to-back, was proof.

Mi Shanxin’s half-siblings on her father’s side and mother’s side were also born one after the other.

The two children from the remarriages: one was a boy without a single A on his exams, and the other was a pretty little girl with autism.

At least Mi Shanxin only had a sleep disorder, not an inability to care for herself. Her grandfather passed away during her senior year winter break. Her father returned home briefly to hastily handle the funeral. Mi Shanxin still got into the university major her grandfather had wished for her to attend.

No one watered her carefully, yet she still grew reasonably well. It was just that she was living alone early on, with a meager living allowance. Li Yin always racked her brains trying to give Mi Shanxin something.

This person was spacey, yet surprisingly shrewd in some ways, understanding that gifts cost her friend’s pocket money.

They were both students with no financial freedom. She always deflected, saying you can give me gifts once you’re earning big money.

By then you’ll be earning money too and definitely won’t accept.

That was Li Yin’s reply. Mi Shanxin dodged the topic with the excuse of being too sleepy.

Her obtuseness and shrewdness were like the chaotic moments when day and night have not yet separated. Much like her lukewarm attitude, relying on what classmates described as her large, highlight-less eyes to feign an aura of “approach at your own risk,” she could also avoid overly eager traps.

But Li Yin was still worried. This Korean BBQ meal ignited an unnamed fire in her heart. Mi Shanxin sensed it, called a server, asked for a cup of ice cubes, and poured them into Li Yin’s cup of sour plum drink.

Li Yin: “What’s this for? Making me cool down?”

Mi Shanxin hummed in agreement. “The BBQ place doesn’t have loofah soup.”

Li Yin was amused by her. “Look what season it is.”

Li Yin took a sip of the iced drink. “Say, Mi Shanxin…”

“You’re already saying it, Yinyin.” Mi Shanxin was full. She sat upright, looking at Li Yin.

She was wearing an ill-fitting hoodie. Li Yin could guess there might still be the down vest she’d worn since elementary school inside.

Back in high school during winter runs, Mi Shanxin was always last. Her hand would reach inside her uniform in a very inelegant motion. Li Yin reminded her about it. Mi Shanxin would pull out a duck feather and say, Yinyin, I’ll blow you a dandelion.

Very few people could sync with her train of thought. Even Li Yin, considered a friend, often couldn’t.

Before she was even an adult, she already understood a mother’s hardship, starting to worry about what would happen when Mi Shanxin grew old.

Li Yin once said she wanted to grow up fast, earn more money, buy a house, and live with Mi Shanxin.

Mi Shanxin forbade her from making such wishes. She asked: What about that classmate you had a crush on in high school? Do you like me or something?

Li Yin hadn’t expected her to be quite so narcissistic. After a pause, she asked what she meant, saying don’t doubt my pure heart.

“Mi Shanxin, your surname is Mi (Rice), not You (To Wander). Don’t let yourself be too soft-hearted (Shanxin), understand?” Li Yin tried to speak with seriousness, but the adjacent tables in the BBQ restaurant were filled with laughing men and women, ruining her effect.

“Don’t laugh,” Li Yin forbade her laughter. Mi Shanxin had to force the corners of her lips back down, displaying her melancholy. “You are naturally meant to have no goodness (Shanxin) in you, got it?”

“I know. Even if I help an old lady cross the street, I’ll record a video as evidence.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Li Yin tapped the tabletop. “That business card? I crumpled it up and you took it back, still not throwing it away?”

She and Mi Shanxin were the same age, but Mi Shanxin’s eyes were too big, her figure too thin, and what she wore revealed nothing of her figure.

Maybe “elementary schooler” was a vibe. In any case, that was Mi Shanxin.

Mi Shanxin took the crumpled business card from her hoodie pocket and placed it on the table. Li Yin earnestly lectured her: “How do you know they weren’t making up a story? Don’t find her pitiful just because both her parents are dead. Spare some pity for yourself, you little bitter gourd with no living allowance during winter break.”

Mi Shanxin suddenly let out an “Ah!” Her tone was utterly at odds with her emotion. “I haven’t had Sprite Bitter Gourd in so long.”

Li Yin: …

How could someone dislike sweets and enjoy bitterness instead? Too old-school.

“No bitter stuff for you. I’ll order you a pudding. You worked hard teaching.” Just as Li Yin was about to throw the business card away, Mi Shanxin’s phone rang. Li Yin saw her frown and leaned over to look. The caller ID note was “Training Class Person in Charge, Teacher Wang.”

Li Yin frowned. “Isn’t her shift over?”

Mi Shanxin hummed, staring at the phone screen with a hesitant expression. “Worried she’ll scold me for being sloppy, for not looking like a teacher.”

Sloppy wasn’t exactly the word, but Li Yin also wanted to throw away all the clothes in Mi Shanxin’s wardrobe. Yet she lacked a proper motive, and she didn’t like others talking about her good friend that way. She could only say irritably, “Maybe just quit.”

Mi Shanxin drank the last mouthful of pumpkin soup and said, “I want to earn money.”

She walked out of the bustling BBQ restaurant first, bracing herself to answer the call.

“Hello, Teacher Wang.” Mi Shanxin’s mind flashed through the state of the kids she’d taught today. Nothing seemed worthy of a complaint.

“Shanxin, sorry to bother you,” Teacher Wang was usually very stern, but her voice now sounded a bit strange. Mi Shanxin really wanted to hang up. “You are bothering me. I’m eating dinner.”

Teacher Wang: …

She looked at the client sitting in her office. Because the speakerphone was on, the other party heard everything clearly and couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Jian Wanji thought: How interesting.

She didn’t like kids, but this one was different. She was going to be her mother.

“Hehe, I’m really sorry about that then. So, here’s the thing,” The woman paused. “When Teacher Zhao recommended you to me before, she mentioned your financial situation isn’t good, that you really need work. I have a one-on-one job here, and I was wondering if you’d be interested.”

Teacher Zhao was Mi Shanxin’s university counselor. The girl didn’t dare be uninterested. Still unable to feign enthusiasm, she asked stiffly, “What age is the little child?”

The institution did have one-on-one sessions. Most were for subjects like math, which showed quicker improvement. One-on-one art classes were very rare.

Such things couldn’t be achieved in a day, and results were hard to see. Parents’ money didn’t just blow in on the wind. Sometimes, the kids’ calligraphy homework was even ghostwritten by Mi Shanxin just to have something to show.

“It’s not a little child…” The short-haired, slightly plump Teacher Wang looked towards the woman sitting on the swivel chair before her. She and Jian Wanji were only a few years apart, but the other woman had firm skin and flesh, clearly very disciplined, looking to be around thirty years old.

“Then what is it? An old thing?” Mi Shanxin’s way of speaking was just like her teaching, as straight and rigid as her calligraphy strokes. People said the writing reflects the person, and Mi Shanxin’s calligraphy indeed had character, but she herself didn’t have the same kind of personal flair as her writing.

Sometimes she sounded ancient, sometimes venomous. And because she was so thin and small with those big eyes, the training class teachers, most of whom were older, couldn’t really say much.

When Jian Wanji burst out in loud laughter, Mi Shanxin finally realized something.

She heard a familiar voice. “Student Shanxin, it’s me.”

The woman’s voice was very distinctive, just like ice cubes in sour plum drink. “Could you be my teacher?”

The call disconnected.

Li Yin happened to find Mi Shanxin at that moment. She asked with concern, “What’s wrong? They’re calling you after your shift.”

Mi Shanxin stuffed her phone back into her pocket, shook her head, and muttered “Nothing.”

“It’s like a midnight horror call.”