"So, how was your class?" Xu Lingwei's mother asked.
"Good," he replied simply.
His older sister was quietly eating, while his father—always ready with another question—glanced at him. "I heard they're going to conduct a competition?" his father asked, referring to the upcoming archery event.
"I'm thinking about it," Xu Lingwei said.
"Thinking? What's the point of going there every day if you can't even compete in a single competition?" his mother interjected, her tone sharp. Then, as if that wasn't enough, she added, "At least this is better than that dancing hobby of yours."
That stung. She always did this. If Xu Lingwei liked something she approved of, he was her perfect son. But if he didn't, he was nothing. Sometimes, he looked at his older sister and wondered how she had survived all these years.
His mother never showed affection, never offered warmth. She believed love and kindness would make him weak.
"But in all those things, don't forget about your studies. That is more important," she reminded him.
Xu Lingwei knew what she really meant—if he didn't excel in both, she would be disappointed.
He missed her. He really did. She never asked about his achievements, never measured his worth by his success. She asked how he was doing, and what he liked, noticed the small things about him, and shamelessly tagged along wherever he went.
"What are you thinking?" his father asked.
"Nothing," Xu Lingwei murmured, continuing to eat.
Then, his father spoke again. "Yueming told me you were hanging out with a girl." Yueming, Xu Lingwei driver.
The food caught in his throat, and he quickly reached for his glass of water, gulping it down.
"She's just... someone from my archery tuition," Xu Lingwei said, trying to sound nonchalant.
His sister, who had been silently staring at her plate, finally looked up at him.
"I hope she's just 'someone,'" his father said, his voice cold. "You're not at an age to be fooling around."
"I know," Xu Lingwei muttered under his breath.
After lunch, as he was about to enter his bedroom, his sister stopped him with a knowing smirk.
"Who is she?" she teased.
Xu Lingwei walked past her without looking back. "I already told you."
"Don't try to fool me," she said, crossing her arms. "You always choose your words too carefully when you're lying."
He closed the door in her face. "None of your business."
.....
Hua Rong stepped up to the counter and slid the application across the smooth surface. The man behind the desk picked it up, scanning the name before pausing. His brows furrowed slightly in confusion.
"Xu Lingwei?" he asked, looking up at her.
Dressed in her usual skirt—hovering just above her knees—and a full-sleeved top, her hair neatly tied into pigtails, Hua Rong quickly waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, this is for my friend!" she clarified with a bright smile.
The man hesitated for a moment, then nodded and scribbled his signature. He pulled out another sheet, sliding it toward her. "Fill this out and bring the contestant on the given date and time for selection." His tone was formal and businesslike.
Taking the paper, Hua Rong glanced at it with mild curiosity before giving a firm nod. "I will," she said, folding the document neatly and tucking it away.
As she walked out, the cool evening air met her skin, carrying the faint hum of conversations and distant laughter. She was heading straight back to her dormitory when she found herself slowing near the cafeteria. A thought crossed her mind.
Maybe she should meet her mother—just once.
The moment Hua Rong stepped into the cafeteria, her breath caught in her throat.
Across the room, under the dim fluorescent lights, she saw her mother standing by the food counter. But she wasn't alone. A man, clad in a slightly wrinkled uniform, had his hand wrapped around her mother's wrist. His grip wasn't harsh, but it lingered just long enough to set off every alarm in Hua Rong's mind.
A cold wave of horror surged through her veins, numbing her body before it was replaced by something hotter—something uncontrollable. Anger flared in her chest, making her pulse hammer against her ears.
Her mother hesitated, her expression unreadable, before carefully slipping her hand away. She said nothing, merely grabbing a tray as if nothing had happened, turning on her heel to walk away.
But Hua Rong couldn't just ignore it.
Without thinking, she bolted across the cafeteria, weaving between tables, her heels clicking against the floor in sharp, rapid beats. Her fury propelled her forward, and before the man could even register her presence, she grabbed the collar of his uniform, yanking him roughly toward her.
"You—!" she spat, her voice shaking with fury as she pulled her fist back, ready to strike.
"Hua Rong, stop!"
Her mother's sharp voice cut through the thick tension like a blade, freezing her in place.
"Mama, that man tried to touch you!" Hua Rong snapped, her grip tightening on his collar. She wasn't backing down.
The man scoffed, prying himself free with a rough jerk of his shoulder. "Hey, kid! I wasn't trying to touch her," he said, rolling his eyes as he smoothed down his ruffled shirt. "I was just grabbing the plate—her hand got in the way. That's all."
Liar.
Hua Rong could see it in his eyes, the slight smirk tugging at his lips. It made her stomach churn with disgust.
Her hands clenched into fists, itching to swing, but before she could, her mother grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the growing crowd of onlookers. They moved into a quiet corner, where the air felt thick with unspoken tension.
"Rong, don't make a mess of things," her mother said, her voice softer now, but firm. "What were you thinking? You looked like you were going to kill him."
Hua Rong's chest heaved, her fingers twitching at her sides. "Mama, I just—! I couldn't stand there and do nothing. He—"
Her mother sighed, her features creased with both exhaustion and concern. She reached out and gently cupped Hua Rong's face, her thumbs brushing over her cheeks.
"Listen to me, my girl," she said, her voice quieter now, yet no less serious. "There are many ways to handle things, but violence should never be your first choice. It's not the way."
"But you just let him go!" Hua Rong shot back, her voice thick with frustration.
"Because I know how this works." Her mother's gaze softened, but there was an unshakable wisdom in her eyes. "If I made a scene, if I lashed out, I wouldn't just put myself in trouble—I'd put the entire cafeteria in trouble. It's not just about me, Rong."
Hua Rong's heart twisted painfully. She knew her mother was right. She knew her mother had always been strong, had always carried herself with quiet dignity. But that didn't mean it was fair.
Her mother sighed and smoothed down Hua Rong's hair, the way she used to when she was younger. "Promise me, Rong. Don't let anger control you. You're stronger than that."
Hua Rong clenched her jaw, the fire in her chest still smoldering, but she swallowed hard and gave a small nod.
She didn't say it aloud, but deep down, she knew—if something like this happened again, she wouldn't just stand by.