To Covet (GL) - Chapter 82

I stared at the drafting paper in front of me, scribbling and drawing, unable to stop myself from dazing off.

Lu Xiaoting was tight-lipped about what happened after she lost her mother’s protection, but seeing the scars on her body, I could catch a glimpse of a corner of her life.

What if the protagonist of the story were replaced by Yu Zhouwan?

The pen spinning in my hand fell onto the paper with a clack, leaving a tail of ink splatters.

Even if something went wrong, Shi Yunya wouldn’t use her daughter’s future as a bargaining chip. Besides, Yu Zhouwan isn’t without other relatives; even if her quality of life plummeted, she wouldn’t end up homeless.

But Yu Keyi, isn’t this what you wanted from the start? I buried my face in my arms like an ostrich.

The decision to come to Linzhou was to disrupt their stable lives. Whether it was Shi Yunya or Yu Hanyang, they were both people who deserved to pay, especially Yu Zhouwan. I couldn’t stand seeing her, a peer, living such a smooth life while I, a parasite who lost her biological mother, wasn’t even fit to eat the scraps of a young miss’s life.

Yu Zhouwan’s hidden shame and scandals are my only leverage.

Yet, I’ve become too greedy for her, wanting to take too much. Even facing a situation where victory was originally within my grasp, I actually hesitated because I was worried about Yu Zhouwan’s future and prospects.

I was always a time bomb that could destroy her life at any moment.

Could it be that everything she did was just to temporarily stabilize me, this uncertain factor?

I never knew.

I never participated in her social circle; our intersections in life were pathetically few. Like Elina said, we didn’t look like a normal pair of sisters; from a stranger’s perspective, we were just two people living under the same roof who weren’t very well-acquainted.

Our “chatting” was nothing more than me reporting my daily schedule like an account book, while she listened quietly on the other end of the line.

Except for sex, Yu Zhouwan and I didn’t have many topics that resonated.

What should a “normal” sisterhood look like? I don’t know. My shift from pure jealousy to extreme obsession for Yu Zhouwan happened in the blink of an eye. Or rather, these contradictory emotions have existed from the very beginning, waxing and waning.

After finals ended, I skipped the evening self-study class to go back and see Yang Chun.

She has been gone for a year and twelve days. Everything seems unchanged, yet some things have quietly shifted.

Grandmother and the others had already visited a few days ago to burn paper offerings. To avoid upsetting the old lady, I stayed home for a few days, making an excuse about having lunch with a classmate while secretly taking the bus to the suburban cemetery.

The word “Mother” feels too distant to me. I couldn’t bring myself to call out that title to a cold piece of stone. Staring at her photo, I put down the flowers and said: “Did you just not want to live anymore, or was being sick truly so painful that you had no choice?”

The memory of that day a year ago remains a total blank. I subconsciously erased the final scene of seeing her, no longer forcing myself to remember.

In the last month of Yang Chun’s life, her condition grew worse and worse; she became as thin as a piece of yellowed, withered paper. I took it for granted that she was dragged down to death by her illness. Another major reason was that she had once said this to me during a late-night chat:

“Nannan, when Mama gets a little better, I’ll take you to the amusement park. Didn’t you always want to eat that pizza? And the chicken legs and that pancake with the long name? We’ll go eat them together then.”

A weak, fluttering voice conveying a resonant promise. I don’t believe she would voluntarily break a promise made to her daughter.

“I’m going now. I’ll come see you next time.”

The cemetery was oppressively quiet. Row after row of identical stone tablets stretched without end, like a forest nourished by death. Staying too long made me feel like my “living” aura was being drained, making me feel uneasy.

Grandmother’s back problem flared up again recently; she was leaning on a cane, shakily moving toward the kitchen to pour water.

I hurried forward to take the kettle. When I pressed the switch, the kettle made a crackling sound of old limescale and aging plastic being scorched.

“Did you put on the medicated patches?” I asked her.

Grandmother lifted her shirt to reveal overlapping marks of medicated patches on her lower back.

“They took me to the big hospital in the provincial capital. The doctor said surgery is dangerous at my age and the herniated disc can’t be cured, just managed with medicine. I’m old, not many years left; I won’t fuss with it anymore.”

“Don’t talk like that, Grandma. You’re healthy; you haven’t even lost your hair,” I brought the food out from the fridge. “When I get into university, I’ll take you on a trip.”

“Good, good. Our Nannan is the most sensible. You’ve grown into a young lady, it’s wonderful.”

Grandmother was always like this; no matter what I did, she would praise me. She squeezed my arm, looking me over carefully, then suddenly sighed: “Nannan, Grandma dreams about you being bullied by your father and that woman. Tell Grandma the truth—are they really not treating you badly? Has that little wild girl been spreading rumors about you?”

“How could that be?” I pinched my own cheek to prove it to her. “Haven’t I gained weight?”

“Still skin and bones… the pressure of school must be high…”

“No, I’ve ranked in the top few of my grade several times.”

I reassured her repeatedly that I wasn’t being mistreated and that life was very good; only then did she breathe a massive sigh of relief.

“Grandma knows exactly what kind of man your father is, but don’t worry about money. Grandma has hidden plenty in the cabinet—a thick stack, even your uncle and aunt don’t know.” The old lady leaned into my ear and lowered her voice, her tone full of undisguised pride as she stuffed a thick red envelope into my pocket. “Use it whenever you need it, Nannan. Buy some books, some snacks. You’re in school so late every day.”

The original rented apartment had been given up, but luckily all of Yang Chun’s belongings were here. Uncle had suggested throwing them away, but Grandmother wiped away tears and said we should keep them as a memento, so this pile of junk was preserved; nothing was thrown out.

“Look, when you were little, your mother wrote a diary about you every day. When you first learned to sit and crawl, weaning off milk to eat rice cereal, and then eating fish and spitting out the bones yourself…” I flipped through every scrap of wrinkled paper, paying close attention to every word, but until I reached the bottom, I didn’t find what I wanted.

I asked Grandmother if my mother had a place for bank cards before she died. She didn’t understand why I was asking, explaining: “Your mother didn’t leave much money. There was only a hundred or two on the card, and your uncle already withdrew it all.”

“Grandma, that’s not what I meant.”

I made up a reason on the fly, saying Dad told me someone owed Mom money and refused to pay, and the court needs the IOU, so I have to look carefully.

“Where would your mother get money to lend to others? Didn’t all her money go to your father? Sigh, women with soft ears just have hard lives.” Grandmother scratched her head in confusion. “Look again, I haven’t thrown anything away.”

“Could it have been burned along with Mom’s clothes?”

“No, back then your aunt washed and folded every single piece carefully. Even the lint and coins in the pockets were taken out.”

The bankbook was still in the original box, but I wasn’t sure if it was the one Lu Xiaoting wanted. As for the IOU… I searched inside and out, and facing the mess on the floor, I stopped holding onto hope. After so much moving around, it was truly difficult to keep a few pieces of paper from ten years ago intact.

“If it’s not there, then forget it. Every family has its difficulties; one should leave a path for others.”

I slumped on the floor and started putting things back in the box. My hand slipped, and a plastic case fell to the floor, the contents scattering everywhere.

“Oh, there’s a phone here. Your mother used to use this?” Grandmother didn’t know much about electronics; to her, all phones looked the same. “Can this kind still be charged? Let’s see if there are any photos or anything; let your uncle find someone to print them out.”

This phone was the same model as the one I had taken before—both operated with a stylus and buttons. But the previous one had been taken back to Linzhou; where did this identical old phone come from? I even suspected my own memory had made a mistake.

“It can. Just use one of those old universal chargers.”

While Grandmother helped look around for a charger, I struggled to remove the battery cover, only to find that the space where the lithium battery should have been was empty—stuffed with several pieces of paper folded into small squares.

I swallowed, made an excuse to go to the bathroom, and slowly and solemnly unfolded the fragile slips of paper.

It wasn’t an IOU.

It was a contract.