And the beads of sweat on her mother’s forehead.
But you can’t hold a bowl of water perfectly level. After her little brother was born, everything changed.
The scales had tipped entirely toward him.
Gu Nianyi rolled up her sleeves. “I’ll handle it myself.”
Li Huiling pushed her toward the stairs. “Oh, I’m just sitting around idle anyway. Go brush your teeth and wash your face.”
Gu Nianyi told her where everything was kept and headed upstairs to change clothes.
When she came back down, the dining table held a fried egg, a small sugary pancake, and a bowl of tomato-and-dumpling soup.
She remembered. Gu Nianyi loved fried eggs but hated boiled ones. She remembered her favorite foods.
Some memories were selective, like celery.
Because her brother liked it, Gu Nianyi’s preferences had ceased to matter.
Li Huiling sat in the chair beside her and finally spoke up. “Yi Yi, your house is so huge. Your brother only needs a 120-square-meter place. I’m not asking for a gift—it’s a loan, and I’ll pay you back. Five hundred thousand yuan—you must have that much.”
It had jumped by another zero for no reason, from the fifty thousand she’d mentioned before to five hundred thousand now.
Since when had eating her mother’s cooking ceased to be a free lunch?
Now it came with all these calculations.
Gu Nianyi lowered her head, her fingers gripping the soup spoon so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “I don’t have it. You know that.”
The words burst from Li Huiling’s mouth. “You do. You held on to part of the bride price back then.”
As expected, she wanted to squeeze out every last drop.
The room fell silent, save for the clink of the spoon against the bowl.
Suddenly, tears streaming down her face, Li Huiling said, “Yi Yi, your mom is begging you. It’s impossible to find a wife these days without at least 120 square meters—no girl wants a place saddled with a huge mortgage.”
When Gu Nianyi didn’t budge, Li Huiling kept sobbing. “When you were little and coughing, I couldn’t sleep a wink all night. Every cough twisted my heart in pain. That time you had a fever, with snow as thick as goose feathers piling up to our calves, I carried you over two miles to the hospital.”
“Yi Yi, your mom is begging you. I’ll get down on my knees for you.”
For her son’s sake, this prideful woman was willing to go that far.
“No need.” Gu Nianyi knew all those sob stories were for her brother’s benefit, though there had once been real affection between them.
It was just that later on, she had forgotten that she once loved her daughter, too.
Gu Nianyi fought back the sourness in her nose, her voice choked as she clenched her fist. “I’ll transfer it to you after I finish eating.”
She shoveled the food into her mouth in big bites, one spoonful after another. Bean-sized teardrops fell into the soup, endless and impossible to wipe away.
The soup grew even saltier.
She hated her own soft heart, hated how easily she cried. Why couldn’t she be ruthless for once?
Li Huiling busied herself cleaning the kitchen—even though the housekeeper tidied it every day—perhaps to ease her conscience after things had gone so smoothly.
Gu Nianyi finished her breakfast, leaving not a drop in the bowl. She pulled out a tissue to dry her tears, acting as if nothing had happened.
Silently, she told herself that the last shred of their bond had been swallowed down with this meal.
Five hundred thousand yuan. Call it repayment for being raised.
It wasn’t much.
The only one she felt sorry for was Lu Jin’an. She had used the bride price money from the Lu Family without his permission.
She was terrified Li Huiling might go to him about it.
For the first time, the good girl had acted first and sought forgiveness later.
Perhaps it was the sweltering heat, or the grogginess from being woken up that morning, or maybe Li Huiling’s words had bewitched her.
Feigning nonchalance, Gu Nianyi asked, “I’ve sent the money. How did you get here?”
Li Huiling wiped her hands on her apron, fished her phone from her bag on the dining chair, and checked her bank account. She counted the zeros one by one—five of them, not a yuan short.
Her face broke into a beaming smile. “I took the long-distance bus, then a city bus.”
The bus station wasn’t far from Cypress View Pavilion, but there was no direct subway. The city bus rattled and jolted along, looping around the ring road with frequent stops.
To save a dozen yuan or so, she’d taken the bus while lugging such heavy bags—one filled with pomegranates, pears, and walnuts, the other a five-liter jug of rapeseed oil.
How much of that was true affection, and how much was for the five hundred thousand?
She didn’t know. She didn’t dare ask.
Gu Nianyi sorted through the things her mother had brought in the kitchen. “Next time, take a taxi or a rideshare straight to the door.”
“Got it.” Li Huiling turned to her. “What do you want for lunch?”
It was a mother and daughter with no heart-to-heart talks or warmth between them—the atmosphere even more awkward than with Lu Jin’an.
The only topics they could broach were “Have you eaten?” and “What do you want to eat?”
Gu Nianyi’s hand paused. “Anything’s fine. I don’t even know what’s in the fridge.”
She was putting away the pomegranates—white-rinded ones, not the red-skinned, soft-seed variety popular online. These were sweeter, a local secret.
The pears were the same—thin-skinned and hard to ship, sold only nearby.
Each fruit pierced her defenses like a sword, inch by inch.
Not to mention that five-liter jug of oil, which drowned her completely.
Li Huiling rummaged in the fridge. “I’ll stew some ribs. You love those, and there’s some in here.”
Gu Nianyi prepped the side vegetables. She had no idea what else to do and made awkward small talk.
She slipped quietly out of the kitchen and played with Nian Gao in the dining room.
Heart-to-heart talks had never been part of their mother-daughter dynamic, just like that extra piece of rib meat—it always went to her brother.
Back home, the rule was ironclad: sisters yielded to brothers, the elder to the younger.
At lunch, Gu Nianyi picked at her food without enthusiasm. Eating alone with Li Huiling felt even more uncomfortable than attending a Lu Family banquet full of strangers.
Li Huiling had no intention of staying overnight. After lunch, she hurried off to catch her ride home.
In the elevator, she took Gu Nianyi’s hand and lectured her. “Yi Yi, what I told you before—take it to heart. I’m doing this for your own good. Having a child gives you something to rely on, a tie no matter what happens down the line.”
Gu Nianyi didn’t want to talk, but she was still her mother, so she gave a helpless reply. “I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t just think,” Li Huiling pressed. “Take action.”
“I know.” Gu Nianyi glanced at her phone. “Your bus is almost at the intersection.”
The elevator arrived, and Gu Nianyi walked out with Li Huiling. They missed Lu Jin’an stepping out of the other elevator.
People could be so contradictory. His tone on the phone had been so harsh, yet now he was all gentleness.
On the surface, it was for her benefit, but in truth, he still saw her as a tool.
Gu Nianyi opened the door and saw Lu Jin’an sitting on the sofa, scrolling on his phone. His sharp features were half-hidden in the dim light.
He had a tall, lean build. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top two buttons, his arms propped on his knees in a picture of lazy elegance.
Because of the five hundred thousand yuan, Gu Nianyi didn’t know how to face him. Pretending to be calm, she said, “You’re back. Have you eaten?”
Lu Jin’an set his phone aside and met her eyes, his expression neutral. “No.”
His deep, cool gaze caught her off guard. Gu Nianyi quickly looked down, her heart pounding. “Then I’ll make you something.”
Less than ten minutes later, a bowl of noodles hit the table—but the noodles themselves were buried under poached eggs, ribs, and greens.
Sensing his hesitation, Gu Nianyi explained, “The ribs are from lunch; I set some aside earlier. They’re not leftovers.”
“It’s fine.” Lu Jin’an rolled up his sleeves, revealing pale wrists, and took a slow taste. “Pretty good.”
Far better than the hospital cafeteria slop he’d just endured.
Watching him eat was a pleasure—his movements unhurried, refined, and gentlemanly.
But with five hundred thousand yuan weighing on her mind, Gu Nianyi had no appetite for the sight. Sitting across from him felt suffocating, so she retreated to the kitchen.
When she emerged, two extra bowls and a glass sat beside his hand.
The pear had been peeled and sliced, the pomegranate seeded into a bowl, and there was a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice. Was she treating him like a child?
He’d only ever eaten fruit prepared like this at Meng Chenyi and Meng Yueyao’s place.
Gu Nianyi clenched her fists and lowered her lashes. “Ming Yue needs me for something. I’m going over to keep her company tonight.”
Let her escape for a little while. Just a little.
Lu Jin’an studied the girl’s face. The eyes hidden behind her bangs and lashes betrayed her heavy heart.
“Alright. I’ll drive you.”
He didn’t care for fruit; it always struck him as cloyingly sweet.
What was with today’s? They were clearer and sweeter than the supermarket ones. Before he knew it, he’d polished them off.
“No need—it’s close by. Get some rest.” Gu Nianyi snatched her bag from the entryway and bolted, afraid he’d insist on driving her.
Watching her fleeing figure, Lu Jin’an crossed his arms, a faint furrow creasing his brow.
It was just about having a kid. Was there really any need to be that scared?
Gu Nianyi stepped out of the house and leaned against the wall before she dared to breathe deeply.
She opened her palm. It was covered in fine sweat and crescent-shaped marks from her nails.
Just two blocks away, Gu Nianyi walked instead of driving. She needed time to think—how was she going to explain this to Lu Jin’an?
He had just transferred the bank card and household funds to her, and already she’d used the bride price to subsidize her family.
Such a major family expense, and they hadn’t even discussed it with him.
It was different for them. Theirs wasn’t a marriage alliance, and the Gu family couldn’t afford a dowry on par with the Lu family’s.
Her dowry was just ten thousand yuan—not even as much as the gift money from her classmates.
In the face of five hundred thousand, it was a drop in the bucket.
Gu Nianyi told Ming Yue the whole story. When it came to their original families, the two of them had no secrets.
“Hug time, baby.”
“I’m fine. It’s my fault too. I couldn’t resist those petty favors, even though I knew she came prepared.”
Ming Yue wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s not your fault. Not at all.”
People used to being independent hated owing favors the most, dreaded financial entanglements even more, and feared asking for money above all.