Sweet Wife in My Arms

As the saying goes, a mother worries as a son journeys. No matter how old a person gets, they would always be a child to their mother.

“You are so good to your son, Aunty,” said Yan Huan with a tinge of envy. If her mother was still alive, she wouldn’t have been bullied so badly. Didn’t the Su Family bully her because she didn’t have parents?

Wasn’t that why Su Muran’s mother treated her like an animal, and why Su Muran’s father threw her into the river?

“Ho…” chuckled the old woman. “Of course! Children are debtors from your previous life, so I ought to treat him well. I’m sure your mother is the same.”

Yan Huan smiled and said nothing, but her eyes were filled with sadness accumulated for two lifetimes. Her mother wasn’t around anymore. She remembered her name and looks, but kept no photographs of her at her request. Perhaps her mother didn’t want the photographs to bring back sad memories.

At the entrance of the train station, she hailed a cab for the old woman and helped pack her luggage into the trunk. She would be fine from there, since she knew where her son lived.

Yan Huan hugged her bag tighter. She had reached Sea City, but found herself at a loss as to where to go.

She looked down at her ragged clothes and tattered belongings. Not many taxi drivers would be willing to take her, she judged.

She could find her way around the airport with her eyes closed, since she had been there more times than she could remember. She walked along the road, hoping to find a mall where she could buy some appropriate clothes.

She searched for some time, but couldn’t find anything suitable. The clothes were too vibrant for her.

The salespersons eyed her warily as she walked into their stores, as though she was some sort of refugee. They were probably worried she would dirty their floors after not buying anything.

Yan Huan dipped her head in shame. She tugged her clothes gently, bit down on her pale lips, then turned around and left. She decided to find a hotel instead.

She was afraid of stepping into the hotel, of how people would look at her, of getting chased out.

In the past year, she had lost her pride and dignity, but she still couldn’t stand the withering looks from others.

She took out her ID and handed it to the concierge, who eyed her up and down and asked for 500 RMB as deposit.

Yan Huan rifled through her bag and found the pouch, from which she took out 5 100-buck notes and handed it over. The concierge took her money and reluctantly tossed her a room key.

Yan Huan found her room, opened the door, and went in. It was clean at least. There was a large bed in the room. She put her luggage down but didn’t sit on the bed. When she walked in, the gazes on her were like laser beams that revealed the germs on her.

She knew they loathed her because she was dirty. They had only let her in because they couldn’t turn down a customer. By the time she leaves, they would probably throw out most of the things in the room and disinfect it thoroughly. Perhaps that would cost even more than what she paid.

Yan Huan began laying her stuff out. When she was tired, she sat on the floor and took out her wallet. She hadn’t spent any money other than buying the train ticket.

She was in dire need of money. She wasn’t Liu Hua now, not Yan Huan, and Liu Hua couldn’t just swagger into a bank and withdraw Yan Huan’s money.

She didn’t know anyone around here, and she didn’t have her phone or ID.

She looked up and gazed out of the window absently until the sky turned dark. In the night, a million lights would illuminate the city, a view Sea City was known for. She hadn’t seen it in a long time, and she had forgotten what it looked like. For a moment, she didn’t want to go to crowded places.

She wondered if she was afraid of other people, or her own shadow.

She picked up her bag and walked out. The staff and other guests looked at her disdainfully, thinking: Someone like you should be in a motel.

In Yan Huan’s heart, she thought: This place is actually dirt cheap, and I don’t think I can find an inhabitable place at a lower price.

There was a street nearby, with many street markets catered to university students at night. They sold everything, and usually at a cheap price. She could probably get everything she needed there.

First, she bought a face mask and put it on discreetly. Only then did she feel the weird gazes disappearing. She wasn’t an alien, so she was afraid of being seen as one.

At a street market, no one cared about her attire or cleanliness.

She bought herself a set of inner clothes and a set of outer clothes, which amounted to less than 100 RMB in total. The clothes she picked were seasonal and plain.

She didn’t bother buying anything else, since she didn’t need them.

When she returned to the hotel, only a few guests were loitering in the lounge. The concierge was swatting at a fly in boredom.

Yan Huan looked down and returned to her room. She washed her clothes and hung them on the balcony, wondering how long it would take to dry.

It shouldn’t be that long, since the hotel had its heating turned on, which is usually the case before March.

She bit her lips until they began to hurt, before heading to the bathroom. She still had her face mask on. This was the first time she saw herself in a long time.

She felt scared and nervous. She was scared that she had become ugly, so ugly that even she couldn’t recognize herself. She wasn’t strong enough to convince herself to accept her new looks and tell herself it didn’t matter.

Her good looks was her mother’s last gift; she didn’t want to lose it.