In the VIP ward on the seventh floor, Lai Ru Yun was awakened by the voices of Xiao Yu and Lai Hui. Her cloudy eyes circled around before settling on Lai Hui, her wrinkled, yellowish face smiling, “Not working today?” Lai Hui peeled a lychee and put it in her mouth, catching the seed in her palm, “Mom remembers the dates quite well. I finished my work, so I came to see you.” Xiao Yu spread out a hot towel to wipe Lai Ru Yun’s face, interrupting, “Didn’t you see the calendar, Sister Hui? Your birthday and holidays, Aunt made sure I noted them down, and she always tells me when you’re off—” Lai Hui approached the bedside; the calendar on the table was facing Lai Ru Yun, visible as soon as she turned her head. She took the towel from Xiao Yu and carefully wiped her mother’s hands, which were now thin and peeling, hands that once could braid her hair and style it fashionably for clients, now needing others to move them. For five years, she had been her mother’s only pillar, counting the days for her “holidays” to visit. As the hot towel passed over the back of her hand, the skin felt wet, the sweat and white flakes smoothed out. A flash of emotion passed through Lai Hui’s eyes as she took out a tube of hand cream from her bag, squeezed some into her palm, and gently massaged it into Lai Ru Yun’s hands, soothingly rubbing between her fingers. “Mom, Jiayi is back!”
She could no longer think that fulfilling her mother’s life was her only duty. The reunion with Jia Yi was something she could no longer keep bottled up inside. She was so eager to share it with someone, and her mother was the one she most wanted to share her feelings with. Ru Yun excitedly opened her mouth, looked at Lai Hui with guilt, but ultimately made no sound.
“He has a girlfriend now, Mom. Don’t worry, I don’t love him anymore. We’re just friends now.” Lai Hui was rubbing her hands absentmindedly, her eyes probing her mother’s expression.
