Liang Sheng hated hearing words like that. She wanted to lash out but didn’t dare—and besides, she had no strength left. She lay limply on the hospital bed and murmured softly, “It won’t happen again.”
Zhao Xin could hardly believe her ears. Changing the mind of this stubborn girl was never easy.
A smile creased her weathered face as she reached out to pat Liang Sheng’s head. “I knew you were a sensible girl. It hasn’t been easy for your mom—I’ve sunk so much money into you. And your dad? Hmph, he’s washed his hands of you. You need to listen to me. Everything I do is for your own good.”
Liang Sheng was too weak to argue. She nodded and forced out a smile more pitiful than tears. “Mom, could you leave for a bit? I just want to be alone.”
Zhao Xin’s smile vanished in an instant. Her expression turned overbearing once more, and she snapped at Liang Sheng in an irritated tone, “What’s wrong with your mom wanting to keep you company? You’re not planning some little scheme again, are you?”
A tangle of emotions surged through Liang Sheng’s heart. Rage, but no strength to vent it. Sorrow, but no tears would come. Melancholy for reasons she couldn’t name. Misery without a clear source. She felt like she was going mad, tormented by her own feelings.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Zhao Xin pressed, taking Liang Sheng’s silence as confirmation of her suspicions—as if the girl were guilty.
“I’m telling you, if you’re not sick, then get back to school! Stop making trouble!” Zhao Xin scolded harshly.
“Mom!” Somehow, Liang Sheng found the strength to shriek, “Please leave!” Her voice was shrill and piercing.
Zhao Xin’s eyes bulged wide, and she bellowed back, “How can you be so ungrateful, you brat? You’re nothing but a burden—a deadweight! If it weren’t for you, do you think I’d be this exhausted? And now you dare talk back to me? Believe it or not, I’ll beat you to death right here!”
She had always believed in that foolish notion of “spare the rod, spoil the child.” When Liang Sheng was little, there had been a few times when she’d nearly beaten her to death.
At six years old, Liang Sheng had been too playful and almost fallen from the third floor. Luckily, she only twisted her ankle. What mother wouldn’t ache for her child? Zhao Xin was heartbroken and terrified, of course—but to teach the girl a lesson, she beat her savagely anyway. Liang Sheng was just as stubborn and refused to admit any wrongdoing. In a fit of rage, Zhao Xin pummeled her until her whole body was black and blue.
At eight, Liang Sheng had spilled a bag of soy milk on the floor. Zhao Xin, already worn out from a long day, exploded at the sight. She grabbed Liang Sheng and demanded she kneel and apologize. True to form, the girl dug in her heels and refused, spouting something about how “a daughter’s knees are worth gold.” Enraged, Zhao Xin snatched up a sofa cushion and swung it at her face.
Liang Sheng stood there rigidly, stubborn as ever. Zhao Xin shoved her to the ground and pressed the cushion over her face. That time, she’d nearly suffocated her.
You’d think that would be the end of it, but no—Zhao Xin insisted on the kneeling. Liang Sheng bolted around the room, refusing to yield. She was caught multiple times and smothered with the cushion again and again. Finally, she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably as she knelt trembling on the floor to apologize. Only then did Zhao Xin crack a satisfied smile.
That was how the years had passed.
Even when Liang Sheng started university, Zhao Xin hadn’t let up. She followed her daughter to the city where the school was and took charge of her daily life.
Liang Sheng had no freedom at all. She couldn’t go out with classmates, stay out a little late, make friends her mother hadn’t approved, or even sneak the occasional junk food.
She was so, so tired.
But that was a story for another time. Right now, Zhao Xin stood at the foot of Liang Sheng’s hospital bed, hands on her hips, yelling at the top of her lungs without a care for the hospital’s no-shouting rule.
“Mom!” Liang Sheng shouted back, though her voice quickly faltered into a soft murmur. “Can’t you… just leave me alone?”
“I’m your mother! If I don’t look after you, who will? Ha! Tell me—who even wants the job?”
Those words cut deep. At home, Liang Sheng had always played the role of the perfect, obedient daughter. Out in the world, she was polite and adaptable, saying whatever suited the person in front of her. Everyone smiled and called her precocious, a little grown-up in a child’s body.
But who could know? Every time she flashed a smile at an elder, peer, or younger relative she actually despised, the moment she turned away, that smile vanished, replaced by ice-cold disdain or outright revulsion.
It was her mother who had taught her that—to win people over, or no one would help you when you needed it. They’d just stand by and watch. Her mother said introducing her to society’s harshness early was for her own good, to help her grow up.
“Mom, aren’t you afraid I’ll crack under the pressure and kill myself?” Liang Sheng said, laughing bitterly instead.
“You’re threatening me now?!” Zhao Xin’s voice rose another notch, grating on the ears. “Go ahead and die if you’re so tough! All talk, no action—do you even dare?!”
“Get out!” Liang Sheng screamed again.
Without giving Zhao Xin a chance to retort, she kept shrieking, “Get out! Get out! Get out! Aaaah!”
Her cries drew doctors, nurses, and a few patients. Zhao Xin had rolled up her sleeves, ready to throw down. Liang Sheng, spotting the motion, shrank back in terror, curling into a tight ball.
A male doctor wearing gold-rimmed glasses stepped forward and blocked the furious Zhao Xin. “Ma’am, please calm down,” he said respectfully. “This isn’t appropriate for the patient’s family, is it?”
Zhao Xin grudgingly lowered her raised arm. Under the doctor’s persuasion, she turned and stalked away.
Liang Sheng pulled the blanket over her head and sobbed quietly. If only… if only they were still around…
Back in junior high, Liang Sheng had made a group of friends. Their leader was Brother Ming. She told them everything—because they were the only ones she could tell. No one else.
They were all so easygoing, and she felt a real connection with them. Little by little, she buried the memory of her worst year, wanting them to be happy because of her.
Once the mask was on, it was hard to take off. She wore one in front of others… and then another among them.
Liang Sheng adored the girls there. They were all so cute and lively—nothing like her, introverted and two-faced.
There was a loli named Qing Qing; Liang Sheng envied her endlessly. She was adorable and universally loved.
Then there was a boy named Xiao Yan, who said whatever he wanted—even cursing people out if they rubbed him the wrong way. Liang Sheng envied that freedom, the ability to live without restraint. She couldn’t do it, though, because she carried the label of “girl.” If Xiao Yan were a girl, he’d get mobbed for it. Girls just weren’t allowed to live that way.
And there was a beautiful big sister with long flowing hair who loved hanfu. She was the kindest, gentlest one in the group.
