Chapter Eight: Signs of a Big Bust

Su Yuan came from a single-parent family. Her father had died in a traffic accident when she was very young, and for more than ten years she had depended on her mother, Su Caiwei, for everything. In order to raise her, her mother had endured many hardships over the years, and as a result, Su Yuan had always shared a very close bond with her.

Under normal circumstances, if her mother called, she would definitely chat with her for more than half an hour. But after the sudden, shocking changes she had experienced, Su Yuan realized she didn’t know how to face this mother who was so close to her.

If her mother found out what had happened to her “son,” it would surely be a devastating blow. Just as she was thinking about how to handle the call, the ringtone suddenly stopped. Su Yuan inexplicably let out a sigh of relief, but immediately realized she was just running away. As the saying goes, you can hide from the first day, but not the fifteenth. Should she be honest instead?

The person on the other end was her closest family—what couldn’t she tell her? My own shoulders can’t bear such a heavy burden; I should confide in Mom. Just as she made up her mind, the phone suddenly rang again. Su Yuan steeled herself and pressed the answer button, yet found herself timid again.

She didn’t speak first like she usually did. Instead, her mother’s familiar voice came through the phone. At that moment, Su Yuan almost burst into tears.

The call was filled with a mother’s concern for her child, repeatedly telling Su Yuan to make sure she ate well. Although they were a single-parent family, Su Caiwei was quite capable, so the Su household had never been poor, nor had she ever been stingy with Su Yuan’s allowance.

“Mom, stop nagging. I know how to take care of myself.”

“Xiao Yuan, what’s wrong with your voice?” Su Caiwei asked on the phone.

Su Yuan was startled and quickly covered her mouth. This was too eerie—had her voice changed? No way! She cleared her throat lightly. “Ahem, I might have caught a bit of a cold. It’s nothing, just a sore throat.”

Su Caiwei then patiently reminded her again, “If you catch a cold, you must take medicine right away. Don’t let it drag on into something serious. And remember not to keep the air conditioner on all night when you sleep. Even if you do, make sure you’re covered with a blanket…”

Su Yuan could only listen silently. In the end, Su Caiwei repeatedly asked about her condition and only stopped after receiving Su Yuan’s firm assurances.

“Don’t worry, Mom. It’s only been a few days since I left home. Your son is almost twenty now—I know how to take care of myself.”

“Nineteen,” she corrected.

“Yes, yes, nineteen—but nineteen is already an adult!”

Su Caiwei smiled and finally hung up the phone.

Su Yuan felt as if a huge weight had been lifted and let out a long breath, yet there was also a trace of disappointment in her heart. She stared blankly at her phone. She should have told her mother about the changes she was going through, but when the words reached her throat, they just wouldn’t come out. The feeling left her suffocated, as if her throat were really sick, and she coughed hard.

Back in the dorm, she heard the sound of running water from the bathroom—someone was showering. Gao Jun was sitting at his desk, fully focused on writing code.

Su Yuan felt dazed and muddled, a lump stuck in her throat. She quietly climbed onto her bed, planning to take a short nap.

……

Night was like a young girl blinking her dim eyes. Outside the hazy window, rain as fine as downy hairs began to fall.

Su Yuan moved her chair to the aluminum-framed glass door between the dorm and the balcony. She straddled it, resting her chin on the back of the chair, staring blankly.

Because of the sudden drizzle, the freshmen participating in night training seemed to have a chance to end today’s military drills early. But the instructors clearly weren’t willing to compromise on training quality. Row after row of “new recruits” in camouflage stood like logs planted on the concrete among the greenery.

Watching them suffer, as if seeing her past self, a strong sense of pleasure suddenly welled up in Su Yuan’s heart.

At this moment, Ji Yehao turned his head and saw Su Yuan sitting behind him, and he shook his head in confusion.

He had already noticed something was off about her that afternoon. She’d taken a nap around four or five, and at dinner she’d only eaten half-heartedly. Judging by her state, could it be heartbreak? Or maybe their prank that afternoon had gone a bit too far? Thinking about how he’d actually slapped Su Yuan’s butt, Ji Yehao suddenly felt that, for a grown man, this might be the hardest thing to accept. He wondered if he’d hurt Su Yuan’s dignity.

Maybe… he should apologize?

Dragging his chair over, Ji Yehao turned around, leaned closer, and asked with concern, “Su Yuan, are you okay?”

Su Yuan glanced at him, wearing a dazed expression. Ji Yehao scratched his head, unsure what to say.

“Yehao, I’m depressed,” Su Yuan suddenly blurted out.

“Is it mild or severe?” Ji Yehao was startled. Depression wasn’t a trivial matter—if not handled properly, it could lead to serious consequences!

Seeing how serious he looked, Su Yuan couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t mean clinical depression—I mean I’m feeling down.”

“So that’s it. You scared me to death. Don’t make such ambiguous jokes in the future!”

She pouted. “You’re the one who misunderstood. I’m not in the mood to joke.”

“You say you’re feeling down—I’m curious what could possibly make you depressed. Tell me, let me hear it.”

Ji Yehao said jokingly. In his impression, Su Yuan had always had strong self-regulation—put bluntly, she was thick-skinned. No matter how bad things got, she’d still eat and sleep as usual, seemingly unaffected. And now something had actually made her depressed.

The bit of warmth she’d just felt instantly vanished. Su Yuan glared at him, feeling as uncomfortable as if she’d swallowed a fly. “You’re really heartless!”

“What are you talking about? Let me join in too,” Gao Jun said, putting aside his work and dragging his chair over.

With a sigh, Su Yuan said, “Yesterday morning, when I came out of the internet café, I ran into a Taoist priest. I could tell at a glance that he was a scammer.”

“Did he cheat you out of money?”

“Not really. But almost. He said I looked haggard, my steps were light, and there was a black line between my brows—an ominous sign of the ‘five declines of heaven and man’…”

“You’d just pulled an all-nighter at the internet café, right?”

“Exactly. After staying up all night, how could I look energetic?” Su Yuan continued. “Then he said I had signs of great misfortune and bloodshed.”

“And did it come true later?”

“Not really. The little priest later tried to sell me a piece of jade. I saw it was real, so I bought it. Then guess what happened—he himself got hit by a car, head bleeding everywhere.”

“That’s the bloodshed right there!” Ji Yehao exclaimed exaggeratedly, then asked in confusion, “But what does that have to do with you being depressed?”

“Didn’t the priest also say there was great misfortune…”

Gao Jun widened his eyes. “You actually believe that nonsense from a con artist?”

Su Yuan gave a bitter smile. Nonsense? Not entirely. After all, she really was afraid she now had signs of a “big bust.” But that was something she couldn’t tell outsiders.

Ji Yehao waved his hand and said earnestly, “Su Yuan, as a young person of the twenty-first century with aspirations, we’re educated and should have our own judgment. Don’t fall into the whirlpool of superstition.”

Su Yuan snorted. “I understand that better than you do. Do you really think I’d be troubled by superstition? I’m thinking about my future! I’m really lost now—after I leave campus, how am I supposed to face the rest of my life?”

“Student Su Yuan, you’re only in your sophomore year. You still have nearly three years to think about it. There’s no need to find an answer overnight.” Ji Yehao reached out and patted Su Yuan on the head.

“You have to think about it now. If you wait, it’ll be too late.” She slapped away his unruly hand and said with a sigh.

“Alright then. Gao Jun, I think Su Yuan is just pretending to be deep. Let’s ignore him and let him be deep by himself for a while.”

Gao Jun wholeheartedly agreed, dragging his chair back to continue typing his code.

Ji Yehao also started using his phone to analyze the day’s stock market trends.

Su Yuan tilted her neck outward at a forty-five-degree angle, looking slightly upward at the rain drifting down from high above. After watching for a long time, she suddenly muttered, “Life really is lonely like snow…” Even she herself felt she was being melodramatic.