But what Zoe Young remembered was Tina Young holding a copy of "Seasons of Flowers and Rain," speaking in the most dreamy and superiorly mature manner, saying, "We're just friends."

"That's good," Zoe Young said softly.

"What?"

"I said," Zoe Young smiled, "he's really nice to you."

A blush flashed across Tina Young's face, but it quickly faded.

"I can barely remember what he looks like anymore, really. It seems like he moved away, changed his phone number and everything.

Sigh, that's how elementary school classmates are. In the end, everyone just drifts apart."

Tina Young's voice was cheerful, as if she had instantly shaken off the strange mood from before. She sat down on the chair, stretched out her legs, and said, "Is the checkup not over yet? I'm so tired."

Zoe Young craned her neck to look down the corridor. "They're not back yet."

Grandma suddenly collapsed onto the sofa just after standing up from dinner.

It was as if God had snapped his fingers and performed a hypnotic trick.

"Zoe, do you think... something really bad might have happened to Grandma?"

Zoe Young said very calmly, "I think it might be a stroke."

All those symptoms and poisons were the aftereffects of reading too many detective novels.

People came and went in the corridor, the glaring white lights shone on the snow-white walls, and the two children waited as if abandoned in a sickly castle. Zoe Young blinked, as if she saw a few people appear at the end of the corridor. Her eldest uncle was pushing a wheelchair, and the frail, pale old woman sitting in it was actually Grandma.

Countless times later, when Zoe Young gradually fell into difficulties, she rarely looked back in confusion to ask, how did things turn out this way, how did we get to this point?

Because at that moment, she seemed to see the turning point of fate. A wheelchair, an old woman slowly being pushed over, dazed and groggy, her cheeks an unhealthy mix of pallor and flush, her always neat and tidy short white hair now limp and hanging by her ears.

How did their lives end up like that afterward? Zoe Young remembered a long, bright corridor, and also remembered the beginning and end of everything.

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11. If Only Life Were As It Was At First Sight

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"How can you say I'm avoiding taking care of her? I never said I wouldn't help, but am I not allowed to look for a job? Am I supposed to take it all on myself just because I'm unemployed? Even if I had a job, we'd still have to take turns. If you don't want me to work, is it really me trying to avoid things, or is it just that they want to make me do everything so they can have peace and quiet?"

On the seventh day of Grandma's hospitalization, another Saturday, Mom went to talk to the doctor. Zoe Young walked to the ward by herself. The corridor was very quiet. As she reached the door, she suddenly heard her aunt's voice from inside.

Lily Young's mom had been laid off since Lily Young started high school. Wanting to take good care of her daughter during the college entrance exams, she hadn't rushed to find a new job. Anyway, Lily Young's dad's income was enough to cover the family's expenses and Lily Young's tuition for repeating a year. The apartment assigned by his work unit wasn't renovated yet, but living in the healthy and strong mother-in-law's house meant there was nothing to worry about for now.

But now, the mother-in-law was no longer strong.

Two days ago, Zoe Young heard that Lily's mom had suddenly found a job working shifts at the mailroom of a private art school's dormitory.

Mom sighed softly and said, "Look how scared she is."

Afraid that all the responsibility of caring for the elderly would fall on her, the only one without a job, she quickly escaped.

The hospital bills and other medical expenses all came from Grandma's saved-up pension, and the university where Grandma used to work would reimburse part of it. But Zoe Young still sensed a strange atmosphere between her mom, uncle, and aunt.

Money is a very mysterious thing. Friendship, family, love—all those feelings you think are unbreakable and eternal—eventually get corroded by it. Clearly it's all about interests, but everyone refuses to admit it, insisting, "It's not about the money," and desperately trying to prove that what they really see in the money is "a matter of character."

Whenever she thought about the family disputes back then, Zoe Young couldn't help but feel deeply confused.

Raise children to guard against old age. But aging is something no one can stop, and as for how much time and money a group of children can spend to fight against the torrent of time—this is something all parents hope for, but can never be sure of.

Zoe Young knocked hard on the door from outside.

Her aunt's complaints stopped abruptly. Zoe Young walked in expressionlessly and saw the awkward look on her uncle's face, while her aunt immediately changed the subject.

"Zoe, aren't you going to school today?"

"It's Saturday."

Her aunt forced a smile, grabbed her bag, and left with a "I'm going to buy food." Her uncle reminded her, "Keep an eye on the IV. When there's not much medicine left, call the nurse to take out the needle."

Zoe Young had been used to Grandma's IV drips since she was little. One of her favorite things was watching the nurse insert and remove the needle. Because she really liked watching the needle being pulled out, she would always run into the room after a while, staring at the IV bottle, hoping it would finish soon.

After a few more reminders, her uncle had nothing else to say. His wife's complaints left him in a bind, unable to take sides in front of his siblings, but also not daring to stop his wife.

He had always been soft-hearted. Zoe Young remembered once when she saw him and her aunt bringing Lily Young back from the amusement park. He was wearing a baseball cap with Donald Duck on it, but it was too tight, so his ears were pressed down, making him look like a floppy-eared puppy.

Tina Young giggled and pointed at his ears, saying, "Second Uncle, you're really soft-hearted."

Lily Young laughed, and Zoe Young also found it funny, but accidentally saw her aunt's darkened face and Grandma's wry smile.

"I'm going out for a smoke, Zoe. Keep an eye on the IV," he nagged again, then picked up his coat and left.

Zoe sat by the bed, looking at Grandma's peaceful sleeping face, and sighed softly.

Grandma, please don't be sick for too long. You have to get better soon.

Because there are no truly filial children by a sickbed for too long.

Fourteen-year-old Zoe Young had already learned a childish yet subtle kind of sharpness.

She wrote about Grandma's illness to Alan Carter all along. From trivial squabbles to every argument, all the family gossip and judgments. Sometimes, she felt embarrassed to air her family's dirty laundry in front of an "outsider," but the once harmonious extended family that appeared during New Year's now revealed its stains, leaving the still-immature Zoe Young with a heavy heart. She could only write about these things in her letters to Alan Carter, letting all the gloom flow out through her pen.

Her letters were no longer just brief sighs; she tried to sort out the whole story in detail, as if by doing so she could figure out who was really right.

For example, the third aunt strongly opposed taking shifts, insisting on hiring a nanny or caregiver, while the eldest uncle thought that with so many able-bodied children, hiring outsiders would be a joke if word got out.

For example, the second aunt worried that since the eldest uncle's Joel Young was the only grandson, the house would eventually go to him.

For example, Mom was very upset that the second aunt found a job at the last minute to avoid responsibility, thinking that their family of three were the permanent residents in Grandma's house, and Grandma had raised Lily Young herself. Instead of going out to earn a few hundred yuan, it would be better not to hire outsiders, but for everyone to pay the second aunt a salary each month; but the second uncle defended his wife, saying it was a different matter—though they never argued out exactly how it was different.

For example...

"Alan Carter, if they keep arguing, I think I'm going to be worn out."

Yes, that's the word. Even "tired" isn't enough to describe it. It's "worn out."

Finally, Grandma's condition improved a lot. She was clear-headed, but still bedridden and unable to move easily. Zoe Young never knew how much of the suppressed arguments had reached Grandma's ears while she was unconscious, but Grandma's face was as calm as ever. She leaned against the soft cushion at the head of the bed, with a pillow behind her waist, called all her children to her side, and didn't mention their disputes at all.

"Let's hire a caregiver. They're more professional, and it saves you all time. I don't want to be a burden to you."

"Mom, how can you call it a burden?" The eldest uncle's face darkened. "No matter how professional outsiders are, they can't be as attentive as your own children. What if we end up with someone who doesn't work and bullies the elderly..."

Zoe Young saw the third aunt's hurried expression, wanting to argue, and mentally crossed out the eldest uncle's suggestion.