When Xu Ya woke up, Lai Hui was in the kitchen, having just mopped the floor with detergent but not yet rinsed it. She heard cursing from the living room, dropped the mop, and rushed out to see Xu Ya, his face and neck flushed like they were on fire, grabbing Jia Yi by the collar and landing a punch on his handsome face. Jia Yi, stunned by the sudden attack, was then pushed against the wall by Xu Ya, who raised his fist again, but Lai Hui quickly hugged Xu Ya’s arm, shouting, “What’s gotten into you? Why are you hitting your cousin?!” Xu Ya calmed down slightly, but the anger in his eyes didn’t fade. He pointed at Jia Yi and cursed, “I’ve endured this for years. If I can still tolerate it now, I’m no longer a man!” Jia Yi straightened his clothes, stepped forward, grabbed Xu Ya’s hands, and pinned him back onto the couch, saying, “Can’t you talk properly instead of resorting to violence? If you weren’t my cousin, I’d have you begging for mercy today!” Xu Ya’s head was pressed into the couch, his neck bulging with veins from suppressed anger. He cursed, “I told you I’d beat you up! Don’t act like nothing’s happened. You know what you’ve done!” Jia Yi glanced at the bewildered Lai Hui and tried to reason, “It’s just about me and Lai Hui going abroad. You’ve tolerated it before; why can’t you now? Besides, you know who you really love. Does clinging to the past make sense?” Xu Ya grew angrier, struggling to move, but his strength was diminished by alcohol. He roared, “I’m not talking about Lai Hui; it’s about Xiao Yu! She’s six months pregnant, didn’t you know? That’s your child!” This revelation left Jia Yi stunned, and Xu Ya, seizing the moment, stood up, pushed Jia Yi onto the couch, and, ignoring the confused Lai Hui, pointed at Jia Yi’s nose, shouting, “I found her yesterday, all swollen and pregnant. I was happy thinking it was mine, but then she hesitated and said, by the dates, it’s your kid! She said it’s a boy! He’ll be a healthy baby in a few months!” Xu Ya’s words ended with tears streaming down his face. He collapsed onto the couch, covering his head with trembling hands, and said in agony, “What’s this all about? Our first time together, she was already pregnant. We were together for three whole months. How am I supposed to face that child when he’s born?”
Lai Hui finally understood, her body swaying as if she might collapse. Jia Yi, momentarily forgetting her presence, was struck like a bomb had gone off. “No wonder she left without a word. She couldn’t face me, and she was scared you’d find out. But she’s confused. How could she keep that child? She’s been misled by those novels of hers, lacking common sense and life experience, only knowing about true love. Yesterday, she looked like death warmed over, swollen all over, neither human nor ghost, it was heartbreaking!” “Where is she now?” Jia Yi asked with a vacant stare. Xu Ya looked up at him, puzzled. “I asked where she is? Tell me, quickly!” Jia Yi demanded, grabbing Xu Ya’s collar again. Xu Ya gave him an address, which Jia Yi confirmed before rushing out. Remembering Lai Hui, he ran back upstairs, apologizing, “I’m sorry, I need to see her, to understand what’s happening!” “I’m coming with you!” Lai Hui declared. “Me too!” Xu Ya added. In an apartment as old as Xu Ya’s, the furnishings were simple. There wasn’t even a water dispenser, just an electric kettle with steam wafting from its spout. Xiao Yu poured hot water into three disposable cups, intending to serve them, but Jia Yi quickly took over, saying, “Let me do it, you rest!”
Xiao Yu’s face was like a poached egg yolk, with patches of pregnancy-induced melasma on her cheeks and nose. She sat uncomfortably on the sofa, head bowed. Lai Hui still recognized her, the girl from the banquet with clear eyes and an innocent demeanor. It turned out her accurate recollections of her past were all because of Jia Yi; she had been his friend back then. Summoning some courage, Xiao Yu looked up at Lai Hui, forcing a smile, and said, “Long time no see. I’m sorry, I didn’t keep my word; there’s no novel for you this time.”
Lai Hui replied politely with a smile, “No worries, I can buy one from the bookstore.”
“Hmm, maybe, but those are from the past. I can’t write anymore. I’m even afraid to turn on my computer!” Xiao Yu’s eyes dimmed, now filled with complex emotions, the most readable of which was the hardship of life, causing her once bright and determined eyes to flicker uncertainly.
“How do you make a living now?” Jia Yi asked with concern.
“I had some savings before, and I rented out my house. Living here is cheaper, so I manage with the difference between the two houses. Maybe when the child grows a bit, I can write novels again!” Xiao Yu said quietly.
Jia Yi felt a pang of sympathy. Previously, Xiao Yu had everything handed to her; her family was well-off, and aside from writing novels, she didn’t need to worry about life, treating money like dirt. Now, she had to plan for her child’s future, cautious even with her savings.
“What about your family?” he asked.
“My parents didn’t agree with keeping the child, even my cousin and his wife urged me to get rid of it, but I couldn’t bear to, and I broke off relations with them. My parents are still angry and won’t see me,” Xiao Yu said, her eyes clearly showing regret. She didn’t hide it, openly saying, “Actually, I regret it now. I should have listened to them. I thought I could be a happy, strong single mother, but life isn’t that simple. Neighbors know I live alone, and they don’t look at me kindly; now, with this big belly, I have to do all the housework myself, it’s so exhausting. It’s the opposite of the pampered pregnant women I used to write about and see. Reality is so harsh — but now it’s too late to change my mind. I’ve seen the baby’s hands and feet; I can’t and don’t want to get rid of it…”
As she spoke, she buried her face in her arms, sobbing softly. Xu Ya, feeling sorry for her, wanted to embrace her, but Jia Yi was quicker, pulling her into his arms, patting her back to comfort her. Lai Hui felt uncomfortable watching this and averted her gaze to her toes, occasionally glancing at the balcony where a sky-blue stroller sat — then she left without anyone noticing her departure.
Some might call this plot melodramatic, but it’s worth explaining that this storyline was not conceived on the spur of the moment. It was foreshadowed long ago, as evidenced by two excerpts from previous texts:
