Chapter 131 Extra Story One: Mom

Chapter 131 Extra Chapter 1: Mother

Don't wait, don't long for the faint light. Burn the past to ashes and live anew in the lingering warmth. — Epigraph

"See? I told you my luck was fire today! How was that bet I just placed?"

"You're the man! I was holding my breath!"

"Of course, who do you think I am?"

"Next time, let's bet more, win back all we lost, and we'll be living like kings!"

The loud, triumphant chatter woke Zhong Yurong.

...

She slowly opened her eyes to a familiar yet unfamiliar gray cement ceiling.

A lingering ache seemed to remain where the bullet had pierced her forehead. She stared blankly for a long while before hesitantly reaching up to touch her forehead—no bullet hole, no sticky blood, just a thin sheen of sweat.

As she lowered her hand, she realized her hands were much smaller.

What had happened in the hospital room seemed to have just occurred, and a flood of memories filled her mind. As she shifted from recollection to reality, tears welled in her eyes.

Zhong Yurong sat up, her blurred vision slowly sweeping across the room. A dilapidated model house, a few shabby, half-broken pieces of furniture, and a faint rotting smell in the air—it was the home she had known in that small county town.

She pinched her arm hard, a piercing pain shooting through her.

She remembered there was a cracked mirror in the house. Her legs numb, she hobbled over to it, and the crack cleaved her face in two.

Her face was dirty, smeared with a few faint bruises, and her frame was clearly malnourished, so thin the wind could blow her over.

This was her at twelve.

A draft swept through the small living room, rattling the rickety wooden door that separated the two rooms. The earlier voices drifted in again.

"...Go to the east market and buy two pounds of pork head meat to fry for drinking... Forget it, you can't pick well anyway. I'll go myself."

"Sure, go ahead. Get a couple of apples for Xiao Rong too, to give her a little treat..."

"Fine, fine. When she wakes up, tell her to stop pissing me off! ...A worthless girl..."

The voice faded away with curses, and Zhong Yurong's face was wet with tears.

The door pushed open, and a face that would one day mirror her own grown-up self appeared before her, eyes dazed and blank.

"Why are you crying again?!" The woman's voice was shrill. "Shoo, shoo, don't block the way. And don't leave that pile of old books lying around—they're such a nuisance."

Zhong Yurong wiped her tears and looked over. The woman rummaging through things matched the memory from years ago.

This woman was a master of disguise—always a slap then a sugar cube. Once, Zhong Yurong had clung to those scraps of care and warmth, only to be sold by her own mother into the bed of a strange old man a year later.

From a deep corner of a drawer, the woman pulled out a jewelry box.

"The ticket's still here! Oh, Xiao Rong, Mama can redeem the bracelet I pawned years ago. It was a gift from your grandpa..."

The woman took a pawn ticket from the box and shook it.

Zhong Yurong said nothing, just hummed a faint "Mm."

The woman didn't care much about her attitude. After putting the item away, she left the room.

Zhong Yurong stood there for a while, the skin on her face tightening as the tear tracks dried in the draft.

At the desk were her textbooks and homework from the beginning of middle school. Because no one had paid her tuition fees, a quiet, taciturn non-core subject teacher at school took pity on her and gave her his own child's textbooks, so her books were somewhat worn.

Zhong Yurong reached out and touched the childish handwriting in her notebook. Then her fingers trembled as she picked up a nearly dry ballpoint pen and wrote three names on the paper—

Zhong Yurong, Xiao Shi, and Xiao Ci.

Maybe fate gave her a beautiful dream, letting her come back before everything began, to personally cut the chains of the past, save her former self from the abyss, and step toward tomorrow.

She smiled—a smile of tragic beauty and grandness.

From the meager pile of clothes, she managed to pick out a clean set. After changing, she washed the dirt off her face and tied her hair into a neat, high ponytail.

"Who taught you that? Suddenly knowing how to do your hair?"

The woman, who was chopping vegetables in the kitchen, came out and was startled by Zhong Yurong's hair.

"My deskmate showed me," Zhong Yurong replied curtly without saying much else, then went back to her room.

It wasn't until mealtime that Zhong Yurong saw her father.

Still the same loathsome, lazy look—unshaven, wearing a yellowed white undershirt and loose black shorts, unkempt.

Zhong Yurong silently shoveled rice into her mouth. Her gambling-addict father choked on a big gulp of Baijiu and coughed, spitting to the side.

The nauseating smell of baijiu quickly filled the stuffy room.

"Smash!" Her rice bowl was snatched and thrown to the floor by the man, shattering into pieces.

"Eat, eat, eat! Your old man nearly choked, and you don't even ask?!"

As always, whenever something displeased him, Zhong Yurong would be yelled at, beaten, or dragged by her hair and slammed against the wall.

Maybe because he'd won money and was in a good mood, he didn't continue. The woman tried to smooth things over, shooting a meaningful glance for Zhong Yurong to go back to her room.

No one bothered about Zhong Yurong any longer, because after eating, they were heading to the gambling den.

That night, Zhong Yurong searched the house thoroughly but found not a single coin. Luckily, the woman had left her coat behind, and inside was some spare change from her mahjong games—seventy-two yuan in total.

The former Zhong Yurong was too timid to steal anything from home.

But the current Zhong Yurong was not the same.

She had Xiao Shi (Baby), and now Xiao Ci too, along with all the friends they'd brought along.

Zhong Yurong took half a bucket of used frying oil that had been poured back into the container, doused it around the house. Without a second glance at that cold home, she struck a match she'd taken from near the gas stove and resolutely tossed it into the room.

The flames grew, and her raging memories were consumed along with them.

Zhong Yurong ran as fast as she could toward the bus station under the faint starlight and moonlight.

The wind filled her clothes. Her frail body could hardly withstand such a desperate sprint, yet she felt light, and an endless strength surged up from her feet, carrying her onto the last bus bound for Yuncheng.

She had only twelve yuan left, but she felt no fear.

The bus drove through the night. Zhong Yurong couldn't sleep a wink, watching through the window as the scenery slowly shifted from a run-down county town to towering skyscrapers.

In the police station of Yuncheng, Zhong Yurong held a cup of steaming hot water and tearfully recounted her biological parents' actions to the police, accurately detailing the specific location and opening hours of the casino.

She didn't hesitate to take off her clothes in front of the police, revealing the appalling bruises and wounds on her body—there was hardly a spot that was intact.

The truth was, Zhong Yurong had no tears, but she kept telling herself inwardly—

Cry, you’ve got to cry, as loud as you can, cry until you win everyone's sympathy, cry until tears become your most powerful weapon.

She was given temporary shelter by the local police station and government of Yuncheng.

Both jurisdictions worked together on the case; the casino was raided, and the couple was caught red-handed.

Zhong Yurong received the relief fund again, but this time it was very different. Not only did she get money for school, but she also gained freedom.

While listening to the history teacher speak eloquently in the bright classroom, her gambling-addicted parents were thrown into prison.

Outside, the sun was shining brightly. Zhong Yurong personally severed the bond of kinship, and from then on, her surname no longer belonged to her father, but to herself.

After high school, Zhong Yurong started working part-time jobs. Once she had her own phone, she frequently searched online for information about Chonghe or Xingtui, but for some reason, these two companies did not exist in Yuncheng at all.

Zhong Yurong was confused for a while, but soon returned to her own life, living each day fully.

School, the convenience store where she worked part-time, and the small one-bedroom apartment she rented formed the routine of her life. Although life was hard, she was happy.

This beautiful dream lasted a long time—so long that Zhong Yurong had already been admitted to a top domestic university to study law.

She knew that if given the chance, she would be a natural student. During her college years, she practically needed a wheelbarrow for all her awards. Because the school scholarship was generous, she paid off all her student loans by her sophomore year and earned a spot in a graduate program without taking the exam.

In her busy life, Zhong Yurong rarely thought about the trivial matters of her past life. She had accepted that she was in another world, but deep down, she still held a glimmer of hope.

On the night she established her own law firm, Zhong Yurong shed a tear of pride for herself.

From age twelve to twenty-four, she had been dreamless. Today, she had a dream—a dream of that hospital ward from her past life, which she longed for, filled with the smell of disinfectant and pain, a dream of those happiest days.

She saw Xiao Ci.

He was dazed in front of the empty hospital bed, holding an IV tube in his hand.

Zhong Yurong smiled at his thin back and gently brushed away his self-blame.

Her gambling-addicted parents were released from prison, but it didn't matter. She was already a formidable lawyer. Soon, her parents, who had aged in prison, were sent to a mental hospital by her after they caused trouble at her law firm.

Nothing could trap her anymore.

Summer was rainy, and Zhong Yurong dreamed again.

She smiled and placed Shen Ci's hand into Shen Shiyan's palm, saying she hoped they would be happy forever.

Later, there was a cemetery in the rain.

The raindrops were cold, but she felt especially warm.

Through the tombstone, Zhong Yurong saw in her dream the two precious ones she had yearned for, and saw all kinds of flowers in the bouquet blooming in the rain.

Zhong Yurong also heard Xiao Ci's "Mom."

Her pillow was soaked with tears.

In the intermittent sound of rain, Zhong Yurong overheard the conversation between Shen Shiyan and Shen Ci.

"Twenty-two-year-old Shen Ci officially fell in love with Shen Shiyan this year."

That was the last sentence she heard.

Zhong Yurong smiled, happy even through her tears. When she woke up again, the rain had stopped.

She had already bought a house by herself and had a few good friends. Today, they were having a gathering at home. While everyone was in the kitchen preparing ingredients, Zhong Yurong wiped her wet hands and returned to the bedroom.

The desk was placed by the large floor-to-ceiling window. She took some letter paper and a pen, sat down at the desk, and began to write.

The sunlight happened to fall right under the tip of her pen, just like the day she wrote her suicide note.

"To my dear:

My dear little Xiao Shi and little Xiao Ci, Mom feels like she's put down roots in this beautiful dream. Mom always imagines that if she had married and had children earlier, she could have entered that life sooner and met you sooner.

But Mom is too attached to this life. Caught in this dilemma, time has slipped by quietly.

In the dream, Mom has seen you. You are happy, and Mom is happy too.

Mom bought a house by herself—a big three-bedroom apartment with a living room. Mom also opened a law firm and helped many helpless girls like I used to be.

Here's a secret, Mom will tell you.

A young intern lawyer in the firm is pursuing Mom, buying her flowers and gifts, and taking her out for fancy meals.

Because of you, Mom will always believe in love. But he's still far from good enough; Mom won't say yes so easily.

If Mom ever has another baby, I wonder if it'll be Xiao Shi.

Mom's mind always wanders.

If it's Xiao Shi, will Xiao Shi still meet Xiao Ci in the future?

If it's not Xiao Shi, then Mom will have three children.

Mom doesn't know if she wants a child, or just another chance to see Xiao Shi and for Xiao Shi to find Xiao Ci.

But Mom is only twenty-four, time will give Mom the answer.

Mom is so confident now—she's the greatest lawyer in the world!

My darlings, be proud of your mom.

If possible, come to Mom's dreams more often.

A friend said the hot pot is boiling; Mom is going to eat. Xiao Shi and Xiao Ci, you must always be happy, and of course, Mom will always be happy.

I love you."

"I'm coming! I'm coming!"

Zhong Yurong wrote the last few words with great solemnity. Throwing down the pen, she slipped on her slippers and trotted out of the bedroom.

"Lawyer Zhong, caught slacking off!"

"Where's the beef tripe? Where's the beef tripe? Where's the beef tripe??"

"Here! Here! Here!"

I've been helping Yurong with all her work...

Oh, our dear lawyer Zhong is really hard to pursue. Keep it up.

I will!

...You all don't talk nonsense.

What's there to be shy about... hahahaha...

Outside was buzzing with activity, and under the sunlight, the handwriting slowly faded until it turned back into a blank sheet of letter paper.

Zhong Yurong, in her winter dream, received replies from her two beloved children along with sunflowers and hydrangeas, and also a hand-tied bouquet for Gao Mengying at the grave.

The two stood straight in front of the grave, hand in hand. Shen Ci looked at the photo and spoke to her.

"Mom, we've come to see you."

"Mom, I hope everything in that letter truly comes true in a parallel world. I'm so happy for you."

The corner of Shen Shiyan's mouth lifted into a faint smile.

He didn't speak, but Zhong Yurong could hear his inner thoughts.

"Mom, Shen Ci told me the whole letter. It's amazing—he remembers it all.

Such days are worth cherishing. Don't let Shen Ci and me become obstacles to your happiness.

In this world, you will always be our mom, but in that world,

I hope you become yourself first, forever bright and forever happy."

Later, Zhong Yurong always thought of their replies, of the gleam around their ring fingers under the warm winter sun.

At twelve, she watched the fire rise, the flames roaring as they devoured everything; even now, Zhong Yurong seems to feel the lingering warmth of the fire.

She lived again within that warmth, becoming the best version of herself.

The meaning of a parallel world is that the main character in every world has the right to write their own happiness by themselves—Postscript.