Chapter 37: MAMA-37

MAMA-37: You can’t? Forget it then.

Li Yin and Jian Wanji didn’t eat for long. Li Yin seemed to have been discovered by her mother for skipping self-study and left in a hurry.

Jian Wanji had wanted to walk her back, but Little Mother’s friend firmly refused, as if Jian Wanji was some disgusting slug.

By the time Jian Wanji returned to the hospital room, Mi Shanxin was just closing the door as she came out.

They met at the doorway. The corridor lights outside were bright, and Jian Wanji noticed Mi Shanxin’s dark circles were still very heavy. She asked, “What time did you sleep last night?”

“Forgot.”

Mi Shanxin’s mind was full of those words Wan Qingqing had muttered in a daze. Some hatred, it seemed, didn’t transfer with the decay of the flesh.

Old age was a state, but the human soul was trapped inside it, like an inn that had been running for many years. Hard to renovate, it could only be rebuilt. As the manager, knowing bankruptcy was the most normal thing.

Wan Qingqing muttered about dying, then in the same breath said Jian Wanji wouldn’t let her die.

Debt of sin, bastard, beast—none of these were good words. She used the most venomous terms to describe her granddaughter, leaving Mi Shanxin at a loss for words.

A surprise was that the old woman seemed to accept her reincarnation theory, holding her hand and asking what the Mengpo Soup tasted like. A moment later, she forgot what she had asked and urged Mi Shanxin to go do her homework.

Mi Shanxin’s own grandparents hadn’t been delirious before they passed. At most, they said they saw many dead people lingering by the bedside, and couldn’t stop worrying about their poor granddaughter, secretly slipping her a bank card.

Unfortunately, the card was snatched away by her father when he came for the funeral. In the end, what Mi Shanxin received were the troublesome Four Treasures of the Study, because Grandpa hadn’t bought anything of real value. These were enough for Mi Shanxin to use for many years.

“Forgot? Let me see your watch.” Mi Shanxin’s smartwatch was a gift from Li Yin when she graduated high school, two years old now. The strap could be washed, and Mi Shanxin had washed it so many times the material was peeling.

“Let’s get you a new strap tomorrow.” Jian Wanji couldn’t figure out this brand of watch. She tapped the screen for ages, and accidentally hit something, making the watch blare an alarm. A passing nurse reminded her to be quiet; Mi Shanxin was the one who turned it off.

The woman let out an “Aiya,” her sequined curly bangs looking just like a floppy-eared dog’s fur—she probably had to tie them up even to eat. Her apology wasn’t sincere at all. “So sorry la ~”

Mi Shanxin: “No problem la.”

Her imitation was clumsy and made Jian Wanji laugh out loud. “Not coquettish enough. Say it again.”

Acting spoiled and coquettish was something Mi Shanxin would never learn in this lifetime. These things never brought her any positive feedback. “No.”

She looked down at their shadows entangled on the floor and asked, “Are you really close with your grandmother?”

She had just asked the Nurse Aide if Wan Qingqing had ever said crazy things like “I want to die.” The aide said yes.

Wan Qingqing was considered an easy elderly patient to care for, not completely incapacitated yet. She just couldn’t walk much. Her organ failure was too severe, and she spent long hours dozing all day.

Mi Shanxin had asked the Nurse Aide the same thing just now. Out of consideration for the employer relationship, the aide hadn’t told her everything. After hesitating a moment, she told Mi Shanxin that prolonged sickness makes a dutiful child weary. Most people were unwilling to contribute money or effort. Someone like Jian Wanji already counted as extremely filial.

But Mi Shanxin hadn’t come to ask whether Jian Wanji was filial or not. She realized she wouldn’t get more. Jian Wanji solicitously hiring a caregiver, and bringing in an actor like herself, who so closely resembled her deceased mother, to accompany and care for her—that far exceeded the filial piety of ordinary children.

The Nurse Aide was older herself. During meals, she also wished her own daughter would treat her like this in the future.

None of this was what Mi Shanxin cared about. She wanted to know the deeper Jian Wanji, not this grinning, cheerfully casual face before her, so generous in spending money on Mi Shanxin.

The one Wan Qingqing called a bastard, a sinful beast—Changchang.

And who gave her that childhood nickname? She had tentatively sent a message to Sui Yuqian just now. This older sister said she didn’t know Jian Wanji had a childhood nickname, and even asked Mi Shanxin what it was, wondering if it was something very mushy like “Baby.”

Sui Yuqian was the type who seemed cold on the surface but was actually very active. Compared to Jian Wanji’s Moments, which ostensibly shared her personal life but was actually all work, Sui Yuqian could at least reveal some of her preferences there. For example, she liked reading manga.

To a child of Mi Shanxin’s generation, those were completely works from the last century, yet the other woman could still make online friends around Mi Shanxin’s age to go see movies with.

Perhaps, hiding her identity offline, those internet friends also didn’t know she was the Big Boss of a listed company.

“Me and Grandma?” Jian Wanji didn’t think much of it. She walked towards the elevator as she spoke. “It’s just like that.”

“Like what?” Mi Shanxin asked.

“Hard to sum up in one sentence,” Jian Wanji noticed Mi Shanxin’s rare persistence. “Why are you suddenly so curious?”

The next second, she tensed up. “She didn’t have another episode like last time, did she?”

Mi Shanxin couldn’t tell if her tension was an act or genuine. The woman grasped her hand to check her wrist. Long lashes coated with mascara cast a dense shadow beneath her eyes.

Jian Wanji wasn’t a woman of infinite allure. She stood somewhere between the charm exuded by her frivolous aura and the asceticism that rejected any deeper relationship. You could see the desire in the individual parts of her features, but couldn’t find the affection hidden who-knew-where.

“No…”

“I knew it!”

Jian Wanji pulled Mi Shanxin back out of the elevator doorway. “Your wrist is red, and you didn’t say a word?”

“My old lady does have aggressive behavior sometimes. The Nurse Aide—was she not there at the time?”

Mi Shanxin: “She was.”

“Liar,” Jian Wanji exposed her in a second. “She definitely went outside to play on her phone.”

“Then why ask? Are you going to dock her pay?” Mi Shanxin wasn’t a first-time worker. If her energy weren’t so low, her social experience would be much richer than it was now. “I’m a worker too.”

“And now you’re defending her.” Jian Wanji didn’t intend to pursue it. “Let’s go put some ointment on it.”

She took Mi Shanxin’s hand to head for the nurse’s station. The girl refused. “If I put it on, it’ll rub onto my clothes. I’m going home.”

When she said home, with Jian Wanji right there, it clearly meant something else.

The woman’s steps faltered. She gave a soft hum. “Okay. Let’s go home.”

The weather had been getting colder lately. The weather station predicted rain or snow next week.

Mi Shanxin hated the cold winters, the bed always so hard to warm up. After meeting Jian Wanji, her conditions had improved a lot. The electricity bill was no longer a worry, no need to fear the space heater costing one unit of electricity per hour, a huge expense.

She had stolen Wan Lingling’s diary from Wan Qingqing’s bedside table. Sometimes she flipped through it at home. The ink-blue fountain pen script hadn’t faded; like calligraphy and paintings, it preserved easily, unlike electronic products—if cloud storage wasn’t enough, a single format wipe destroyed everything.

Wan Lingling wrote that winters were very cold. After getting married, she bought a hairdryer. Before putting on clothes, she’d first warm the close-fitting garments with the hairdryer.

“My daughter said, ‘Mama, my clothes are so hot, oh.’”

Mi Shanxin didn’t have that kind of moment.

Nor did she have the New Year Wan Lingling described, pinning a red pom-pom hair clip onto her daughter, saying my daughter is even cuter than the little figures on the New Year couplets.

Mi Shanxin had never looked forward to New Year, but she would still buy some Spring Festival couplets and door stickers, pretending the lonely old house had a new atmosphere, too.

The couplets that had been up for a year were already faded. Jian Wanji had come in and out many times now; she even had a key.

Supposedly it was the key that had belonged to Grandpa before. It was her only key besides her car key.

Now everything used smart door locks. She had even thought about installing one for Mi Shanxin’s home. The girl, during a time Jian Wanji forgot her key, said, “How come you never forget your car key?”

“What do you even carry in that backpack every day.”

Jian Wanji followed behind her, grinning cheekily. “I drive everywhere, so of course I don’t forget.”

Mi Shanxin ignored her sophistry. “Then since you come here to work every day, why do you forget?”

Jian Wanji was speechless. She thought to herself: She looks wilted and listless normally, but is actually sharp-tongued, completely playing the pig to eat the tiger.

Half a month had passed, and Mi Shanxin’s home had gained many things, all added by Jian Wanji.

Perhaps because the express deliveries came too often, a neighbor asked her if her father had finally grown a conscience.

Seeing Jian Wanji, they asked, “Is she your stepmother?”

Mi Shanxin was rendered speechless. Jian Wanji, right after saying “I’m her mother’s friend,” closed the door and laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. She said, “Well, now it’s even. We’re each other’s little moms.”

Mi Shanxin didn’t understand what was so funny. She only knew that, in the eyes of the old neighbors, the age gap between her and Jian Wanji made any possibility of ‘that’ nonexistent. To some extent, it was a safe shelter.

On the table was the half-eaten rice ball Mi Shanxin had left in a lunchbox. Jian Wanji said, “From now on, let me order your breakfast and lunch for you.”

Mi Shanxin changed clothes as she headed for the shower. The door closed, but the warm light inside still seeped through. Her voice mixed with the sound of water: “From now on… how long is that?”

Jian Wanji sat on the old sofa outside. She thought the living room light was too dim, the sofa too hard. She mused that it would be better to just let Mi Shanxin stay at her place—at least it was spacious, and running the underfloor heating all day wouldn’t be a problem.

But she also had that mouse she kept at home. She wondered if Mi Shanxin would like it.

In this cold, even practicing calligraphy became a problem. The past few days, the back of Mi Shanxin’s hands had been itchy, very likely a sign of developing chilblains.

How was she the same as Wan Lingling in this, too?

“From now on… just means from now on, I guess.” Jian Wanji wasn’t like Mi Shanxin, who liked concrete answers.

The boss of a company might seem, on the surface, to not have to sit in an office daily and just play around, but in truth, she was the biggest sales lead herself, lobbying everywhere. She never left anyone a hundred percent guarantee, always saying ‘another day,’ ‘later,’ ‘next time.’

Everyone knew it wasn’t certain.

Mi Shanxin wasn’t a client. Calling her a subordinate wasn’t quite right either; Jian Wanji had to serve her.

Jian Wanji had mentally prepared many scenarios. She didn’t expect that the girl, emerging steaming from her shower, didn’t even need her answer. She wore the new pajamas Jian Wanji gifted her, tugged at the neckline, and asked, “Are you sure I won’t be cold wearing pajamas like this?”

“You wouldn’t be cold at my place.” Jian Wanji spoke unconsciously. A few seconds later, she explained, “This room of yours is colder inside than outside.”

Southern winters were all like this. Jian Wanji used to dread winter most as a child. Grandma would hold a bed warmer, yet made her wash with cold water, insisting she couldn’t be as delicate as when her mother was around, couldn’t use a hairdryer to warm things up.

She said Jian Wanji would have to live alone someday, shouldn’t think of relying on others.

But after Grandma was widowed and lived alone, wasn’t that also ‘alone’? She still took hot showers and slept holding a bed warmer.

Curling up in bed, Jian Wanji felt the chill even at the tip of her nose when she poked her head out.

They say people romanticize the past, but thinking back, Jian Wanji still felt the bone-deep cold.

She bought Mi Shanxin many heating devices, but she couldn’t change the layout and lighting of this home.

Even at work, she’d unconsciously think—maybe just buy her an apartment. She even, in all seriousness, asked colleagues in a meeting about their experience buying new houses. The tea room rumors gained a new story: the boss was buying another property.

“Are you inviting me to do it at your place?” Mi Shanxin’s hair wasn’t long to begin with; she dried it quickly in there. But after washing, it was overly fluffy, transforming from an octopus into a sea urchin—but a fuzzy one.

Jian Wanji had planned to brush it off with a few laughs, but suddenly remembered Li Yin’s warning. A bit helpless, she thought to herself, this is utterly preposterous. She swore she hadn’t seduced Mi Shanxin.

But the age disparity was just there. Jian Wanji was the guilty one, and Mi Shanxin was the uninitiated.

“No such thing.”

“Then have you given anyone else this kind of pajamas?” Mi Shanxin stood before Jian Wanji, tugging at the velvet drawstrings on her chest. She didn’t need to tie them one by one. Even the smallest size was still big on Mi Shanxin. Her chest was too barren; if it were any bigger, these drawstrings would be much more suggestive.

But she was practically flat. Even without a bra, the parts that reacted to the sudden temperature change from heat to cold were just concealed by the fabric, and they couldn’t be called beautiful.

Her face was always her best feature, but because she was perpetually underfed and underdressed, she was also withdrawn, appearing slightly uncomfortable at a moment like this.

The girl fiddled with the silk cord knot and answered for Jian Wanji presumptuously. “You definitely have.”

“How come you’re answering for me?” Jian Wanji laughed despite herself. “If by ‘others’ you don’t mean just anyone, I suppose I have given some.”

She looked up at the girl. Mi Shanxin’s mind was always half a beat slow. A few seconds later she asked, “You gave them to Sister Zeng and Sister Sui?”

Jian Wanji nodded. “Isn’t this brand of pajamas pretty?”

“But yours is the newest style. They don’t have it.”

Mi Shanxin glanced again at her flat chest. “I can’t fill it out.”

Sitting on the sofa, Jian Wanji was in a relaxed posture. Her legs were very long. Really, with just one hook, she could easily pull the girl into her arms.

But she couldn’t. She could only let Mi Shanxin’s gaze wind around her, staring fixedly at her chest. “You should be able to fill it out.”

Jian Wanji didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You’re too thin. Eat more proper meals, don’t just eat cold rice balls.”

Mi Shanxin looked at Jian Wanji’s legs again. “I can’t grow taller either.”

She never revealed these things in front of friends, because there was too much to envy. Most of the time, Li Yin spoke, and Mi Shanxin listened.

If Mi Shanxin actually spoke up, her friend would rack her brains to comfort her.

But Jian Wanji was different. She could pour out a lot of bitter complaints.

Mi Shanxin didn’t even know why.

She bent down to look at Jian Wanji. The drawstrings on her chest dangled like ambiguous red threads.

The girl complained about her own barrenness, yet from the side, that slightly protruding part of her was visible.

Jian Wanji had seen it many times. When Mi Shanxin was lost in pleasure, she would even pinch it for a long while herself.

She was very pitiful, easily making whimpering sounds from not knowing the right way.

Her legs would also sway then, as if trying to press Jian Wanji down, hoping the other would show great mercy, and kiss Shanxin’s heart.

“Why do I feel like you might have said this last time…” Jian Wanji didn’t dare look anymore. She pushed Mi Shanxin towards the bedroom. “Don’t catch a cold.”

The moment the door closed, the atmosphere seemed to catch fire.

Mi Shanxin asked Jian Wanji, “Aren’t you hot? Take off your coat already.”

Li Yin’s words still lingered in Jian Wanji’s mind. Even taking off her coat, she was distracted. She opened the drawer to find finger cots, but only found an empty box. “How are they all used up?”

Mi Shanxin looked bewildered. “Used up?”

Jian Wanji was very professional with her tools for this kind of thing, so professional she practically wanted to wear a face mask.

If Mi Shanxin hadn’t complained that she acted like a doctor and forbade it, Jian Wanji really might wear a mask the entire time.

“I’ll go buy some.” Jian Wanji moved to put her coat back on. Mi Shanxin hooked a finger through her belt loop, forcing the woman to look down. The girl lying on the bed said, “No need. You washed clean, and I washed clean too.”

Jian Wanji: “It’s not a good idea.”

Under the lamp, Mi Shanxin looked listless, as if she had been forcing herself all day. “Just do it quickly. I want to sleep.”

Anyone hearing this would think Jian Wanji was the one insisting they do it. The woman sighed. “Are you sure?”

Mi Shanxin stared at Jian Wanji. “Do I have to formally invite you?”

“Hurry up.”

She lifted her skirt. Compared to the first time she had lain here facing Jian Wanji, every piece of fabric on her body was provided by the other woman.

It gave a fleeting illusion that she would sooner or later belong to the other.

The woman shook off those delusions and looked at the bare space between the other’s legs. Remembering the photo she’d received, she asked, “Why did you send me that photo?”

“You shouldn’t just send photos like that recklessly. What if…”

“You’re not ‘just anyone’.” The girl, her eyes showing not the slightest ripple even at a time like this, used a pillow to prop up her lower back. “You’re so naggy. Can’t you be faster?”

“If you think it won’t work without the cots, we can do something else.”

“Like what?” Jian Wanji asked.

Mi Shanxin tapped her own lips.

Jian Wanji was silent for a long moment. “Are you sure?”

Only now did Mi Shanxin show a trace of hesitation. “You can’t? Forget it then.”

Jian Wanji sat at the end of the bed. Suddenly, she lifted Mi Shanxin’s legs higher. From Mi Shanxin’s perspective, it looked like the other was about to bury her face down.

At that moment, Mi Shanxin was thankful she was flat as a board—at least she could see Jian Wanji’s expression clearly.

Yet, on the other hand, she was disappointed. How could she not be affected at all?

“You said it.” Jian Wanji’s hands tightened slightly. “Don’t regret it.”

Mi Shanxin clamped her legs around her hand. She didn’t realize this expression of hers was completely different from usual, as if getting into bed turned her into another person.

“I never regret.”