Turning to head back to my bedroom, I noticed An Nuo's door was open. I glanced inside and saw her sitting on the edge of her bed, playing with her phone, looking completely relaxed and carefree, even humming a cheerful tune.
My anger flared up, and I said coldly, "Feeling pretty pleased with yourself?"
"What?" An Nuo looked up abruptly, a puzzled expression on her face. "Pleased about what?"
"Mom and Dad are arguing in there—aren't you the least bit pleased?"
"Why would I be pleased?" she said, smiling at me. She didn't even bother to hide it.
I was so furious I really wanted to go over and slap her, but I held back. With a loud "bang," I slammed the door shut.
Dad and Mom were arguing fiercely—I could hear them even from my room. No one made dinner, but aside from Anuo, everyone was seething with anger and had no appetite anyway.
After a while, there came the heavy sound of a door slamming. I thought it was Mom leaving the house, but when I went out to check, I found it was actually Dad who had walked out.
Mom sat on the edge of the bed, her chest heaving violently. Her neck and cheeks were flushed with agitation. I tiptoed over and asked softly, "Mom, are you okay?"
She glanced up at me, her voice cold as she said, "I'm fine," then stood up and walked out. Thinking she was leaving too, I instinctively asked, "Mom, where are you going?"
She turned back, impatience in her tone, and replied, "To make dinner for you."
It was nearly midnight when I sat at my desk working on test papers, but my mind was preoccupied with how to deal with An Nuo.
That wretched girl had already shown her true colors—she definitely wouldn't stop here. I had to find a way to stop her before she hurt Mom again.
But she had that video of me "raping" her. Whether it even existed was still unknown, but if it did and she released it at the right moment, I'd never be able to clear my name even if I jumped into the Yellow River.
I couldn't help but feel a wave of shame. Since childhood, I'd always prided myself on being clever and quick-witted, so how could I be completely helpless against a little girl like her?
Just as I was lost in thought, noise erupted from the living room—it sounded like Dad was back. After a moment's hesitation, I put down my pen and walked out of my room.
Dad was drunk again. Mom was supporting him as he staggered toward the bedroom. I hurried over to help, but Dad pushed me away.
Pointing at Mom, he slurred, "You... tell me! Whose child is it? Is it Manager Chen's, or... that Manager Li of yours?"
"What nonsense are you talking about!" Mom frowned angrily.
I quickly stepped forward to steady him and said, "Dad, are you thirsty? Let me get you some water."
"Get away!" Dad pushed me aside again, then pointed at Mom and said, "Then... it can't... be my child, can it?"
"What child? There's no child! Stop talking nonsense!" Mom went to help him again, but he shoved her away.
"I'm... telling you! Don't... don't treat me like a fool. I haven't touched you in three months, and suddenly you're pregnant? Is the... child mine?"
Mom's face was filled with grievance and resentment. She clenched her teeth, her chest heaving violently as she stared at Dad without saying a word.
My heart ached for her. I stepped forward, about to speak, when Mom suddenly roared, "Shut up! This has nothing to do with you. Go back to your room."
I knew Mom was afraid I might accidentally slip up and reveal what happened that night. I opened my mouth but said nothing, stepping aside instead.
Dad shouted angrily, "What are you yelling for? Did the child provoke you?" He swayed unsteadily, pointing at Mom and demanding, "You... you... dare to swear? You're not pregnant!"
Mom crossed her arms, her eyes red and her breathing heavy. She opened her mouth several times as if to speak but held back, finally turning her head away.
"Nothing to say, huh?" Dad let out a bitter laugh, swaying back and forth before collapsing onto the floor. Suddenly, he began sobbing—a pitiful sight.
My heart twisted with pain, and regret washed over me even more intensely.
My mother and I went over to help my father up. This time, he didn't refuse. After we helped him onto the bed, he suddenly grabbed my mother's wrist and said through tears, "Xiaoyun, tell me… what exactly happened? Make it clear… make it clear, and I'll believe you. Were you… taken advantage of? You… weren't willing, were you?"
Tears welled up in my mother's eyes, but she held them back, taking a few deep breaths and turning her face away, unable to look at my father.
"Tell me!" my father suddenly roared.
My mother choked back a sob and said, "Don't ask."
My father's eyes were bloodshot, his face streaked with tears, as he shouted hoarsely, "Get out!" At the same time, he waved his hands wildly, slapping my mother forcefully.
I knew how deeply wronged my mother felt. It wasn't her fault, yet she couldn't speak the truth.
My mother held her forehead, remained silent for a moment, then picked up her clothes and turned to walk out the door.
I hurried after her and asked, "Mom, where are you going?"
Bending down to change her shoes, my mother didn't even glance at me as she said in a low voice, "Take care of your father." Then she fled the house as if escaping.
I wanted to follow her, to stay by her side, but I knew deep down that my presence would only cause her more pain.
Returning to the bedroom, I watched my father lying haphazardly on the bed, feeling a pang of sorrow in my heart.
My father had been a good man all his life, yet because of his son's momentary greed, his marriage had shattered, leaving him in a pitiful state, unable to even understand the reason.
But then I thought again—wasn't it also because my father had once failed to resist temptation and had an affair, leading to Anuo's birth, that this series of events had unfolded? It really seemed like a cycle of cause and effect.
I stayed by my father's side, keeping him company through the night.
The next morning, when my father woke up again, he had returned to his usual steady, rigid middle-aged self.
He must have remembered what had happened the night before, but he didn't go looking for my mother, nor did he even ask about her.
At school, I asked Lu Yiyi if my mother had gone to her house the previous night. Lu Yiyi said no.
All day long, I thought about where my mother might be, completely unable to focus on my studies.
When I returned home in the evening, the kitchen was empty, devoid of any signs of life. I tried calling my mother's phone, but she didn't answer.
Usually proud of my cleverness, I found myself reduced to nothing but sighs in the face of such a predicament.
I muddled through a week in this state. When I returned to the entrance of our neighborhood, dejected, I saw Anuo wandering around near the gate.
Since that day, I hadn't spoken to her again. Her leg was mostly healed, but she still refused to leave our home.
With a cold expression, I walked past Anuo. Suddenly, she caught up to me and said with a smile, "You'd better not go home right now."
I turned and glared at her, wanting to ask why but not wanting to engage with her. Anuo didn't keep me in suspense, smiling as she said, "Your mother is back, negotiating with our dad."
"Negotiating? About what?" I couldn't help but ask.
Anuo chuckled and said, "I don't know. Maybe about dividing the family, divorce, or something like that."
Before she could finish, I sprinted home. There, I saw my father and mother sitting on opposite ends of the living room sofa, their expressions cold, neither looking at the other. On the coffee table in front of them lay a form.
"Mom, you're back." After not seeing my mother for a long time, my emotions were a mix of excitement and worry.
Mom glanced at me but didn't say a word.
I wanted to ask about her recent situation, but Dad shot me a look, signaling me to go back to my room.
Helpless, I returned to my room but left the door slightly ajar, pricking up my ears to secretly listen to what was happening outside.
The living room was as silent as death.
After a long while, Dad suddenly said, "Let's just get a divorce."
A long pause later, Mom replied, "I haven't done anything wrong to you."
"Then tell me the truth. What exactly happened? Whose child is it?"
"I can't tell you. But I promise, I absolutely haven't done anything to betray you."
"If you won't tell me the truth, how can I believe you?"
Mom remained silent.
After another stretch of quiet, Dad spoke again, his voice icy cold. "Either tell me the truth and tell me whose child it is, or we get a divorce."
Mom still didn't speak.
Dad grew impatient. "What is it that you can't tell me? You're hiding something this big from me. Do you really not trust me that much?"
"It's not that I don't trust you, it's just that this matter..."
"Alright, don't say anymore." Dad cut her off, his tone still cold. "Since you're unwilling to tell me, then let's just get divorced."
"Honey..."
"Don't call me honey!"
Mom took a deep breath, steadying her emotions, and slowly said, "Let's both calm down for now. Let's not talk about divorce yet."
"Suit yourself." Dad stood up and walked into the bedroom, slamming the door shut with a loud "bang."
The room fell back into silence. After hesitating for a moment, I tiptoed out. I saw Mom sitting on the edge of the sofa, one hand supporting her chin, her face expressionless.
I quietly called out, "Mom."
Mom glanced at me but didn't respond. After a tense standoff, I said with deep apology, "Mom, I'm sorry. It's all my fault."
Mom sighed, turned her head, and asked, "How have your studies been lately?"
"They're... okay." After meeting Mom's gaze for a moment, I changed my answer. "Not particularly great. My mind is always filled with messy thoughts, and I can't concentrate."
After a long silence, Mom said calmly, "The college entrance exam is the most important test in your life and the first turning point. You're smart, I know that, but others don't. You need to prove it to them. The college entrance exam is your chance to show them."
"Yeah." I nodded.
In the past, when Mom talked about these big principles, I would get impatient. Only today did I realize that Mom truly has my best interests at heart.
"Things have come to this. Don't dwell too much on family matters. You just need to focus wholeheartedly on preparing for the college entrance exam." Mom stood up and said to me earnestly, "Making mistakes isn't scary. What's scary is not correcting them and repeating them. Son, your life has just begun. Keep going."
Mom gave my shoulder a gentle pat and walked out of the house.
My eyes grew slightly moist. I didn't know how to describe my feelings at that moment. I had hurt Mom so deeply, yet she was still thinking about my future.
Mom was right. A true man is one who can correct his mistakes.
I don't have time to dwell on worries anymore.
I don't know where Mom went, and even if I asked, she probably wouldn't tell me. But her words gave me great encouragement, pulling me back into the final sprint of my senior year of high school.
Three nights later, while I was buried in my books, I received a text message—it was from Mom, telling me to pick her up at Tangchao Hotel in an hour.
This was likely another one of Mom's "golden cicada shedding its shell" tricks. I tidied up a bit and took a taxi to the destination. After waiting for a while, I saw Mom and her colleagues walking out of the restaurant.
Mom was wearing a fitted gray blazer with a pencil skirt, sheer black pantyhose hugging her long, shapely legs, and a pair of shiny black pointed-toe high heels—a look full of mature intellect and sensuality.
However, she had had a bit too much to drink. Walking in those high heels, she swayed unsteadily, looking as if she might topple over at any moment.
I hurried forward, but before I could get close, Mom stumbled and nearly fell. A man beside her reached out to steady her—it was her boss, that Mr. Li.
Mom glanced at him and pushed his hand away, only to lose her balance again, almost falling. I quickened my pace, ran over, and caught her just in time.
When Mom turned and saw it was me, she relaxed slightly and said to her colleagues, "My son is here to pick me up, so I won't be joining you for karaoke."
Everyone protested and teased her, but Mom just smiled faintly, waved at them, leaned on me, and walked away on her own. She had drunk quite a bit and was a little dizzy, but she wasn't drunk—her mind was still clear.
Supporting Mom, I hailed a taxi by the roadside and, following the address she gave me, arrived at a residential complex.
This was likely where Mom was staying temporarily. The apartment was spacious—over 120 square meters—and luxuriously decorated.
Mom casually tossed her purse onto the coffee table and then slumped onto the sofa. I looked around the room and asked, "Mom, whose place is this?"
"Rented."
"Why would you rent such a big place all by yourself?" I was puzzled.
"Because I want to."
Alright, I didn't know what else to say.
I glanced back at Mom and saw her kicking off her black high heels haphazardly. Her black-stockinged legs curled up like a cat's as she lounged comfortably on the sofa.
Suddenly, I remembered that people who drink often get thirsty, so I quickly poured her a glass of hot water and respectfully placed it in front of her.
Mom blew on it, took a sip, and said to me, "Alright, you can go back now."
"Aren't you scared staying alone in such a big place at night?"
"Scared of what?"
"Ghosts, burglars, things like that."
Mom reclined on the sofa, holding the cup with both hands, and glanced at me. "Just say what you want to say."
I grinned foolishly. "Well... maybe I could move in to keep you company?"
Mom rolled her eyes and snorted. "You're scarier than any ghost." Perhaps realizing that sounded a bit too much like a flirtatious exchange between a couple, she quickly straightened her expression, cleared her throat, and said, "Hurry up and go back."
"Alright, then your tool-son will take his leave." I dawdled a few steps toward the door before turning back to ask, "Mom, can I still come over?"
Mom replied coldly, "Why would you come here for no reason? Focus on studying at home."
"What if I need to find you for something?"
"Call me if you need anything."
"Oh."
I rolled my eyes, backed my way to the front door, opened it, and waved to my mom. "Mom, I'm heading out now. See you another day."
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