According to the nurse, my mom didn’t even know she was pregnant when she gave birth to me. She only knew that she had gained a lot of weight. It wasn’t until the day she was notified of bankruptcy, when all her bank cards were frozen, that she realized she only had $2,000 left. That was the New Year’s money her distant relatives had given her when she was young. She had thought it was too little and never touched it. Looking at the remaining $2,000, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her stomach and was rushed to the hospital. Then she gave birth to me. Even during labor, mom insisted on staying in a VIP room, saying she didn’t want to go to the regular delivery room. As a result, her balance lost a zero, becoming just $200. I came very suddenly. When mom first saw me, she acted like an idiot. She was too surprised. She had never thought about having a child. Even when she loved dad the most, she never thought about it. Because she needed a lot of love, and only dad could give her that love, which could only be given to her alone. They had made a vow when they were very young. “Connor’s love can only be given to Vivian alone.” When they first grew up, things were indeed like that. Dad’s love was only given to her. Eighteen-year-old Connor told her, “I like you, only you.” He fulfilled the vow he made as a child, and everyone knew that Connor belonged to Vivian. Whenever mom controlled dad, those who knew them would always tease: “The young lady sure is possessive.” For eighteen-year-old Connor, under her possessiveness, what he felt was sweetness. Like a green apple lollipop, slowly melting in his heart. He would blush and say goodbye to these friends, then turn around and run towards his happiness. But for twenty-four-year-old Connor, faced with her possessiveness, what he felt was oppression. Like a dipping sauce with an unbalanced sweet and sour taste, he couldn’t spit it out, and holding it in his mouth only left endless suffering. Friends mocked him for being henpecked. Whenever he heard the urgent ringing of his phone, his heart would sink. If suppressed emotions can’t find an outlet, then the heart will open a window in another direction. So he chose to stray, falling for another woman. He knew he was wronging Vivian, so he kept it a secret. At first, the scale still had some weight due to guilt, but the joy of straying gradually increased, tipping the scale to the other side. When all the lies fell apart, they had a very messy fight. The two hurled insults at each other, tearing and pulling, making their home unlike a home. In the end, they vowed never to see each other again. They got divorced last month. As the villainous supporting character, mom was extremely paranoid. Once dad showed any sign of not loving her as much, she would become suspicious. Three fixed phone calls every day. The clothes on his body must be chosen by mom. He must return home before 7 pm every night. Even though she guarded him so strictly every day, dad still slipped away like a handful of sand, blown into another woman’s arms by the wind. First, it was the chestnut-colored hair on his coat, then the unfamiliar perfume emanating from his collar. At the beginning of their arguments, mom confronted him directly: “You smell awful.” It was a very cheap scent, so sweet it made her dizzy. To cover up his guilt, my dad took off his coat and pretended not to care, saying “I just went to the mall, must have accidentally brushed against something.” Later, it was an unknown woman’s accessory, a scarf that the housekeeper found in dad’s pocket. The housekeeper asked about it, and mom discovered it didn’t belong to her. Then came the deliberate turning of his back when sleeping. The wandering eyes during hugs. Mom couldn’t ignore these changes. So, she hired some private detectives to investigate dad’s whereabouts. When those photos were sent over, mom could hardly believe it. He was cheating with the person she hated the most. Perhaps it was the innate intuition of a villainous supporting character. The first time she saw this person, she despised her from the bottom of her heart. That person had a face completely opposite to hers. And in these photos, the man who was a good husband in others’ eyes, the person who once loved her the most, Was openly holding hands and embracing this person during his work hours. The two seemed as familiar as if they had been together for many years. Just a year ago, dad had still been gossiping with her about this person late at night. They both agreed that this person was a manipulative girl. Now, dramatically, this person had become her husband’s lover. She had become the third party in their marriage. To save her marriage, mom tried to talk to her. But she refused. The second time, mom deliberately went to the company to confront her. After waiting for a long time, she finally came down, but arm in arm with mom’s husband. When dad saw mom, he immediately shielded the woman behind him. This scene made mom laugh. She said, “Connor, aren’t you going to give me an explanation?” Dad didn’t respond to mom’s words, instead turning to say a few words to the girl, telling her to leave first. After coaxing the girl away, dad tried to come over and hold mom’s hand. He didn’t try to deny or defend himself for changing his heart, but kept saying sorry, sorry. He slapped himself while speaking. Then he knelt down, begging her not to divorce him. Mom was silent for a long time, then turned and went into the room. Just when he thought mom would choose to divorce him first thing in the morning, Unexpectedly, mom forgave him. She said, we don’t have to divorce, but you have to promise me to cut off contact with that girl. Subsequently, the situation completely reversed, with the girl coming to confront mom instead. Mom rejected her several times, and finally, she came to our house to confront dad. Seeing his lover in such a sorry state, dad held back his heartache. He left with her. A month later, he finally returned home. The sky was gloomy and it was raining heavily when Connor pushed open the door, his body damp with moisture. Just as she thought her cheating husband had finally realized her worth and was willing to come home, She was slapped in the face with a stack of photos, the sharp edges cutting her face. It was then that she woke up as if from a dream, realizing this person hadn’t come to reconcile, but to confront her. “Vivian, you’re getting more and more disgusting.” “Now when I see your face, I feel sick. How can you be so vicious?” “You knew how important this banquet was to Lily, yet you still had people ostracize her. Do you know how many nights she stayed up for this banquet?” “Are you even human? How can you be so intolerant of others’ success?” Mom was stunned. She never thought that the man who had shared her pillow for many years would lose his temper so badly over an outsider. In an instant, her grievances burst forth. “Yes, I just can’t stand to see her doing well.” “Why should a homewrecker like her get to live better and better?” “Why don’t you ask about me? How many nights have I cried for you? How many nights have I stayed up for your career?” “What right does she have? Tell me, what right does she have?” She almost screamed hoarsely, then, like a deflated balloon, she hunched over, pulling at her hair and breaking down in tears. The cold rainwater on his body dripped straight down her collar. Extinguishing all the passion in her. Connor just coldly watched her. He thought, this scene is so familiar. In the past, when she cried like this, he would still feel heartache. Now he suddenly realized that all he wanted was to escape from here. So he said, “Let’s get divorced.” Mom’s mind went blank, and she slapped him hard on the left cheek. Connor was stunned by the slap. “Divorce, how dare you say that.” “Isn’t it all your fault that we’ve come to this?” “I just don’t understand, when all couples encounter problems, they choose to solve the problems.” “But you, you chose to solve me! You chose to cheat!” My dad couldn’t take it anymore. They had rarely yielded to each other since childhood. So he pushed her in front of the mirror. “What about you?” “Have you ever looked at yourself?” They both looked at the woman in the mirror. Her hair was disheveled, there was a long scratch on her cheek, her eyes were red and lifeless. The sadness and anger on her face hadn’t had time to disappear. She looked at herself in a daze. Remembering when they got married, the first time they looked in this mirror, they were both smiling. But now one face was full of disgust, the other full of anger. She suddenly felt that it was pointless to dwell on whether to divorce or not. There was no love left, and she didn’t lack people to spend her days with. When the two were signing the divorce agreement, mom looked at the signed agreement over and over again. The person next to her asked if there was any problem. She said, “After so many years, we should say a proper goodbye.” Then she picked up these papers, stood up exhaustedly and said, “I hope we never meet again.” Unexpectedly, a month later, the Vivian family went bankrupt. Mom found out when she was preparing to move. The house was jointly owned by the two, but there was no reason to live there anymore. She drove back home, where only an empty house remained. She had never thought that in such a situation, she could still have a child. She had lost everything, but gained a child. This child was like a fast-forward button, instantly splitting her life. Although everything was very sudden, she still accepted me, this change. Then she found that she couldn’t even take care of her own food, clothing, housing, and transportation, let alone a child. She didn’t know that taking a taxi from her home to the hospital cost twelve dollars. She didn’t know that the food she used to eat was so expensive, that she couldn’t even afford a fraction of a casual meal now. She was forced to learn how to take care of herself. She was also forced to learn how to take care of me. She had never thought about having children, but she seemed to like me very much, always holding me, gently nuzzling my little face, holding my little hand. Speaking to me softly. When the nurse was taking care of me, she would watch from the side, clumsily learning. All the mindless novels on her phone were deleted, replaced by parenting guides. But she often fell asleep while reading them. I really liked to stare at mom’s sleeping face. When mom was asleep, she was like the roses blooming outside the window, swaying gently in the wind, quiet and beautiful. Whenever I fell asleep, mom would also gently pat me. She quietly asked the nurse what kind of formula was suitable for a small baby like me. The nurse also said quietly, you can try xx formula, your baby is thin and small, not well-nourished in the womb. Mom looked at the expensive price and at me blowing bubbles in the cradle, feeling conflicted. In the end, she gritted her teeth and stocked up a box. After buying it, her balance lost another zero, becoming just $20. Although I was well taken care of in the hospital. I was always very sleepy, and chest tightness was a common issue. Mom didn’t notice my abnormality, saying I was a little pearl, sleeping twenty-four hours a day. The nurse did a full body check-up for me. The doctor said it was congenital heart disease, and I might not live to adulthood. For the first few days after the diagnosis, mom cried while holding me. She hadn’t finished her postpartum confinement yet, and the doctor advised her to cry less, and asked who the child’s father was. Mom cried without answering, her life seemed to have been suddenly cut in half. The first twenty years were spent in luxury, ignorant of worldly affairs. Fate, seeing her living too comfortably, made her become a mother without knowing anything. As if not painful enough, it cut her again. The nurse looked very unhappy, wondering how such a nice young girl could marry such a man. “Some things can be let go if you can. In life, many things don’t matter in the face of life and death,” the nurse patted her back, comforting her softly. They even called a psychologist for her, to prevent postpartum depression. The nurse often sighed while looking at me. She said that at first, she really disliked mom, thinking she wasn’t like a mother at all. Later, ah, she felt sorry for mom. Because she looked just like a newborn flower bud, any wind or rain could make her fall from the branch. She encountered several such people every year. Perhaps because I was too well-behaved, too cute, whenever she looked at me, she always wanted to take care of me a bit more, and couldn’t bear to see me become an orphan. However, no matter how much sympathy others had for me, the high medical expenses still overwhelmed mom. In the past, she had gone crazy over a love that couldn’t be salvaged, doing everything to lose face, humbly pleasing, constantly using her own wealth to subsidize, pouring wine on the female lead in public, sabotaging the female lead’s career. From childhood, all she seemed to crave was for someone to lend a hand when she fell, rather than laughing out loud. But from childhood to adulthood, only Connor had done so. Her parents were exhausted in their own married life, with no energy to educate a child. So from childhood, she was willful, disrespectful, arrogant, and spoiled. No one would restrain her, they would only submit to her status and position. Without these things to disguise herself, she was like a flower bud just opening on a branch, any wind and rain could make her wither. She clearly understood these things, but she didn’t know how to act. Seeking things she had never obtained, using her own methods to grasp the little love she got. In the end, she grasped nothing. She just wanted to hold onto that love that could scatter with a breath. … After taking several deep breaths. She started to borrow money from those friends she thought were close. But the phone calls were either busy tones or curses. When making the last call, she hesitated for a long time. The other end: “Who is it?” “Rachel, it’s me.” “Who would have thought? It’s Miss Vivian.” The tone was mocking. “What brings you to call me?” “To borrow money, how much do you want to borrow?” Mom reported a number, but before she could finish, the other side sneered. “Aren’t you a rich young lady? You can wave your hand and get hundreds of thousands, why are you borrowing a few thousand from us small fries?” “I do have money, but in your current situation, it would be hard for you to pay it back!” “Why don’t you bark like a dog a few times, maybe I’ll soften up and lend it to you.” After the person finished speaking, a burst of laughter came through the phone. They not only mocked her but also wanted others to know that now anyone could make fun of her. However, this time, mom didn’t hang up the phone promptly as usual. She asked, “Wasn’t I good to you before?” The laughter on the other end suddenly went cold. “Yes, you were very good to me, but that’s what you owed me.” “Who told you to be born rich, possessing wealth I couldn’t get in several lifetimes.” “I’ve always hoped you would fall from grace.” “Now that you have, I’m especially happy.” “I’m celebrating with them right now, celebrating your downfall, that there will be one more person in this world just like us.” Mom didn’t hear the words that followed. She slowly sat down in front of me with the phone, gently touching my blanket. She wondered, what were those people around her like before? As a rich young lady, even though she was so awful, there were countless people trying to please her. Some clumsily flattered her, some subtly showed goodwill, some imperceptibly and gradually became her close associates. Rachel was her favorite friend. Because she always cared about her and wouldn’t indulge all her behaviors. She treated herself and everyone else equally, she would denounce the rich for their misbehavior and the poor for their cynicism. During exams, she would prepare notes for her in advance and tell her not to cheat. When she did something wrong, she would give her the cold shoulder. She would also patiently advise her on some of her behaviors. She was like a family member. But when fame and fortune were lost, she became so unfamiliar, mocking and ridiculing her just like those other people. Finally, she put down the phone that had already gone silent. She threw away a scarf from the few clothes she had left. Faced with the constant payment reminders, Mom still dialed that number. She first heard some mixed male and female laughter on the other end. Then came the familiar: “Hello” In the past when they called each other, she would definitely sweetly call out “Connor.” But now she could only politely reply, “Connor, it’s me.” Her voice was slow and stiff. “Can you lend me some money?” More laughter came from the other end of the phone, then some rustling of clothes. “Stop it, haha.” The voice returned to the phone. “What did you say?” Just this one sentence, mom seemed to instantly lose the courage to borrow money again. After all, they had parted on such bad terms before. The two of them had hurled insults at each other over the divorce, they had never fought so fiercely since childhood. Connor used to be like a blazing light to mom. Although this light couldn’t penetrate the depths, at least it brought momentary warmth. Unexpectedly, after signing the divorce agreement, all the past just became the past. With no other choice, mom could only turn to her grandmother who lived far away in the south. Grandma was mom’s birth mother. When mom was eighteen, she divorced her husband. Years of torment had given her a lot of white hair, and she had been taking antidepressants year after year. When mom was little, grandma always stayed alone in a room. She didn’t go out, didn’t talk, occasionally staring blankly at the white curtains. When mom went to see her, she was trying to swallow white pills. These pills blocked her mouth. Grandma saw her and spat them out, white pills scattered all over the floor. The housekeeper heard the commotion and quickly ran in. “Madam, you can’t take too many of these pills. If you really can’t sleep, I’ll warm up some milk for you, maybe that will make you feel better.” She stared blankly at the pills on the floor, and after a long while, shook her head. Mom went over and held her hand. Little as she was, she didn’t understand what depression was, only knew that mom was sick. Grandma seemed unable to sense mom’s presence, just staring lifelessly ahead. Later, she never opened that door again. She thought her mom was like a doll, too boring. Sometimes when passing by this door, she would linger for a while. It was quiet inside, without a hint of life. On a certain day after she came of age, this long-closed door finally opened. That person as white as nearly transparent was her mom. The housekeeper was carrying her suitcase. She left this home forever. When she left, she didn’t even glance at her. As if she had never given birth to her. And now the only one she could rely on was this long-unseen mother. Her stepmother and father had already left for abroad after the bankruptcy. Mom spent all the money she had left to buy a ticket for an old-fashioned train. She had never taken such a train before. The train was full of luggage and garbage, and she could barely move. Among the four seats, there was only one small table big enough for two hands. After finally finding a seat, the seat cover was greasy. Next to her sat a fat uncle, whose cigarette smell filled the entire space. Mom’s eyes reddened as soon as she sat down. Her white dress was already dirty in several places. This was the only dress she had left, everything else that could be sold had been sold. I slept all the way, sleeping until we reached grandma’s house. When I opened my eyes, I heard grandma scolding mom: “You, from the moment you were born, you only knew how to spend money. Ending up like this, you’re really stupid.” Mom was crying while eating noodles. To buy this train ticket, she had been eating one meal as three, never feeling full. Grandma’s hair was grizzled, her features faded, her mouth complaining about mom. But her eyes couldn’t hide her joy, nostalgia, and reproach. It was the look of a daughter finally growing up and coming home. Grandma lived in a very quiet small courtyard house in the south. She had been living well in the south, the walls inside and outside the courtyard were covered with roses. When the wind blew through the small alley, the flowers swayed gently. There was a stone table in the courtyard, on which lay a fluffy white cat, round all over. On sunny days, it would sleep next to the rose bushes. In her lifetime, grandma never thought she would see her daughter again. Now she could finally calm down and take a good look at her. Mom was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, and at that time, grandma was already suffering from severe depression. From one to five years old, they rarely met. By the time mom turned eighteen, grandma’s illness had finally improved. Grandma wanted to take her daughter away, but years of neglect had made mom thoroughly dislike her. Due to lack of guidance, mom only knew how to spend money from the moment she was born. She had never truly worked hard in her life, even her diploma was obtained through her family’s donations to the school. She not only liked to spend money but also liked to give money away. Mom later didn’t think there was anything wrong with giving money away. She said, “Anyway, I had so much money then, what’s wrong with giving some away? Who could have thought that money would become negative in an instant.” Mom thought that relying on grandma would allow her to live worry-free. But grandma didn’t indulge her. Except for expenses related to me, grandma didn’t give her anything else. As a result, mom often argued with grandma. She couldn’t wear her previous pretty clothes anymore, couldn’t buy her previous expensive cosmetics, and couldn’t eat her previous expensive Western food. “Mom, my underwear is torn, I need to buy new ones.” Grandma said: “Buy it yourself.” “Mom, I want to eat dessert from that place.” Grandma said again: “Buy it yourself” “Mom, there’s a new lipstick, I want to buy the 203 color.” Grandma still said: “Buy it yourself.” Mom was so angry her face turned red and her neck swelled. The beautiful hair dye had faded, the curls were no longer curly, and she was wearing grandma’s old T-shirt. Mom often cried before coming to grandma’s, but now she didn’t cry anymore. She was just angry, like a child who couldn’t get candy. Mom learned to cook at grandma’s, followed grandma to trim the flowers in the garden every day, and did many household chores she had never touched before. Sometimes she would complain to me, saying: “Little pearl, your great-grandma has already transferred her affections. She doesn’t like me anymore, she likes you now.” We spent a year there. That year, it even snowed in the south. I was also one year old, grew a few little teeth, smiling so much that mom’s heart blossomed. She often lifted me high, and we would spin together among the rose bushes. Grandma still loved to sit by the window, reading that novel so thick she could barely lift it. Occasionally staring blankly at the roses outside the window. The daily routine of mother and daughter was bickering. Grandma criticized her daughter for having no concept of consumption. Mom complained that grandma was old-fashioned. When I was playing in the living room, grandma would read some storybooks to me. She said: “Finally, the pigeon flew away. It decided to fly to a distant place to find a place of its own.” Mom saw this and always sat with me, listening intently to grandma’s stories. Winter was a very difficult season for grandma. She always dressed very thickly, fearing the cold. At first, she just coughed occasionally. Mom urged her to take medicine, but she said it was an old problem, medicine wouldn’t help. Later, she had a high fever that wouldn’t go down, and mom took care of her around the clock. Later, grandma was hospitalized. The flower bed outside the window was covered with a thick layer of snow. When grandma wasn’t awake, mom would stare blankly at the osmanthus tree outside the window. That cold snow would sometimes fall along the leaves, forming a small mound. I had never seen mom with such an expression, as pale as the snow outside. In the end, grandma lay in a small box. She held the small box and walked in front of me, patting my head. With a hoarse voice, she said: “Little pearl, mom doesn’t have a mom anymore.” Mom cried a lot that year. Since grandma left, mom had to go out to find a job. She didn’t know how to do anything, the only thing she knew best before was how to dress herself up. Originally, she could have found a decent job with her high educational background, but people saw her photo and name and didn’t dare to hire her. They said mom had done too many stupid things, and they didn’t believe she could handle the job. Of course, most of the reason was that they didn’t dare to offend mom’s ex-husband, my dad. Mom often said that dad was a heartless man who wasted so many years of her youth. Later, she stopped saying it. Because she had too many things more important than the love Connor gave her. For my medical expenses, mom could only work odd jobs everywhere. To avoid drawing attention to herself, mom would deliberately go out without makeup. This way, she could quietly get a job like an ordinary person. Finally, a flower shop was willing to employ her long-term. That was the skill grandma had taught her in that year. She wrapped flowers beautifully and generously, and could meet any weird requests from customers. This was the only thing she could do every day without getting bored. Our life seemed to suddenly stabilize again. Mom would come to visit me in the hospital every day. She had no friends and didn’t dare to make friends. In the year of her bankruptcy, she had experienced enough cold shoulders and ridicule from these former friends. She would say many things to me, although I couldn’t understand. One month, she suddenly became very tired, even bringing back many leaves on her worn-out coat. She said, “Little pearl, do you want to meet your dad?” Mom had often tried to make that call when I was just born. But she never dialed it. I was angry that mom still remembered this bad person, so I turned my head to play with my own fingers, ignoring her. Mom rambled on to me about many things. The next day, two people came to see me, a man and a woman. I had never seen my dad since I was born. When this man tried to touch me, I cried with all my might. The nurse hurriedly ran over, trying to comfort me, and the man was awkwardly pushed to the back. The nurse asked, “Are you the patient’s family member?” That man said: “I’m her father.” Seeing that I was crying badly, the woman also tried to comfort me. I didn’t like her, she smelled like my dad. At this time, mom walked in, facing this ex-husband, she had nothing to say. She just skillfully picked me up, gently patted me, and then said softly to me: “Good baby, don’t cry.” Dad was stunned looking at mom. He had never seen her like this before. Her hair was messy, there were deep dark circles under her eyes, her lips were colorless, she was disheveled, but her expression was gentle as she held me, without a trace of embarrassment. He listened to mom quietly comforting me. He still remembered, when they were in school together, the arrogant and willful rich young lady was never afraid of anyone. At fifteen, she was already a well-known troublemaker, but she was helpless when it came to real children. She often said: “Children are truly the most terrifying creatures in the world.” After comforting me to sleep. She sat down expressionlessly. She took out that custody agreement, which clearly stated the expenses dad should bear. They faced each other so calmly. Those times of quarrels, though only a year and two months ago, seemed very far away from them. “If you encounter any difficulties in the future, you can come to me.” This sentence sounded abruptly, he didn’t dare to look directly at mom. Only occasionally glancing up. After dad said this, the lady sitting next to him tugged at his clothes. That lady was as beautiful as mom, her features were softer, less sharp. She was like a yellow daisy blooming in a corner, particularly eye-catching among the drab surroundings. My dad, he still had the young master’s air, as the male lead, he was surrounded by a halo wherever he went. Mom didn’t say anything. The male lead’s guilty conscience could indeed bring benefits. But she didn’t want to have any more entanglements with this person. When grandma was on her deathbed, she told her: “Move forward.” From that time on, she was determined to listen to her mom’s words, to move forward, to look ahead. Mom also sent a court notice to her good friend “Rachel”. Demanding the return of all items she had given her before this year. All those past items were sent back, and mom took them all to sell, getting a large sum of money. Those former friends said she had no shame, how could she ask for things back that were given away. Mom didn’t care. She said very coolly, “If you had the nerve to accept them, why shouldn’t I have the nerve to ask for them back?” Mom collected this money but still worked in the flower shop. My condition also slowly improved. She took very good care of me. In the past, she always couldn’t cook well. Every meal was either burnt or undercooked. I often had stomach problems, and she always carried digestive medicine in her bag. Now, she could even make three dishes and a soup. She understood that winter clothes would be discounted in summer. She understood that she could use medical insurance when buying medicine at the hospital. These were all things grandma had taught mom. That year, she finally received the maternal love that came late for her. But as a villainous supporting character, even if she didn’t provoke others, she couldn’t live a peaceful life. Soon after, someone found out where mom worked. They placed many orders at her shop. After receiving the flowers, they gave overwhelming negative reviews. At first, the shop owner thought it was because there were too many orders and mom couldn’t keep up, so she was careless. But in fact, mom carefully arranged every bouquet she sent out. This situation continued until the fifth day, with the negative reviews becoming more and more intense. The boss showed mom the screen of his phone, which displayed several private messages.
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