Liang Sheng no longer cared. She didn’t want to live anymore. Because of Lin Yi’s words, coworkers pointed and whispered behind her back all day. Her mother offered no understanding—only relentless “psychological education”—and broadcast her private shame everywhere, as if desperate for the whole world to know. At twenty-eight, nearly thirty, she had zero personal freedom.
Her hands clawed fiercely at Lin Yi’s mouth. Lin Yi kicked and punched in pain, but Liang Sheng refused to let go. Only when blood streamed from the corner of Lin Yi’s lips did she release her grip with grim satisfaction, turn, and walk away.
Back home, her mother was already waiting. The fleeting thrill from the fight vanished instantly. Even now, seeing her mother sent a familiar chill through body and soul.
“Today, your behavior deeply disappointed me,” Zhao Xin said sternly, eyes locked on Liang Sheng.
Liang Sheng shivered. Despite the time apart, the fear remained.
The mature Liang Sheng lowered her head, accepting the criticism silently. She was used to it.
“Mr. Jin comes from a good family. His character is solid.”
“Hmph. You just want his money,” the mature Liang Sheng thought. Since she no longer wanted to live, what did a few retorts matter?
Zhao Xin studied her daughter in surprise. Why was her obedient child suddenly talking back?
“I’m doing this for your own good…”
“Hah! ‘For my own good’ again?!” The mature Liang Sheng lifted her head. “You always say that! I wanted journalism—you forced finance. ‘Mom knows best.’ Fine, I obeyed. Now you want me to marry a bald, narcissistic, divorced man I’ve barely met?!”
“You—!” Zhao Xin nearly stumbled. Her daughter hadn’t defied her in years. Rage flared in her eyes. *Little brat’s grown bold. Thinks she’s untouchable? Just wait.*
“And do you even know,” the mature Liang Sheng’s voice cracked, emotions unraveling, “how Lin Yi slanders me daily at that company *you* made me join? How trapped I feel? I begged to quit—you refused! Are you building the life *you* wanted… or forcing me to fix your regrets?!”
Zhao Xin shot up, eyes wide as bowls. “How dare *you*, you freak? Being a lesbian is shameful! Of course people scorn you—it’s your fault!”
Liang Sheng trembled, her laugh brittle, tears mixing with the sound.
“Fine! All my fault! I shouldn’t exist! I’m disgusting! A burden! Useless! Trash! Happy now? Don’t worry—you’ll be *happier* soon.” She spun around, slammed her bedroom door with a deafening *bang*, and locked it tight.
Zhao Xin stormed over, fists pounding. *Bang! Bang! Bang!* “Little brat’s got wings now?! Think I can’t reach you?! Come out—I’ll end you!” Curses poured through the wood.
Inside, the mature Liang Sheng lay rigid on her bed like a corpse—still, expressionless. Only tears tracing her temples proved she still felt.
Slowly, she sat up. Shuffled to her pillow. Reached inside. Pulled out a rusty fruit knife.
This scene felt hauntingly familiar. Liang Sheng, as if floating above herself, finally understood: the knife was for safety… and for escape.
She remembered the searing pain of cutting before. But soul-deep torment outweighed momentary agony. Peace was worth the sting.
The dull blade slipped. A shallow gash. Flesh peeled. Blood welled steadily. She bit her lip hard—blood bloomed there too—but the wrist’s wound felt deep enough to hold a heart. Blood flowed. She trembled, eyes closed, waiting.
Before death, memories surfaced.
Her father—caught red-handed again. Mother’s scratches left his face unrecognizable.
Middle school: stuttering answers, classmates roaring with laughter. Slowly, Pinocchio syndrome took root—any random laugh froze her, convinced it targeted her.
High school depression: Mother’s confused stare. Whispers. Mockery. As if her pain was just “fragility,” never the world’s cruelty.
Confusion. Agony. Swirling everywhere.
No warmth left? No kindness before the end?
There was.
Mother carried her across provinces for treatment, ignoring her own illness. Skipped meals to save money for Liang Sheng’s favorite foods—never tasting a bite herself. Before marriage, she was gentle, radiant, kind.
When did she become a shrew? After discovering Father’s first betrayal postpartum. He abandoned infant Liang Sheng and her recovering mother for revelry. His 2,000-yuan salary left only 500 at home. Mother spent her pre-marriage savings raising her alone. Marriage. Divorce. No difference.
What broke Mother? A failed marriage. And a disease: poverty.
What broke Liang Sheng? A broken home. Cold classmates. The same disease: poverty.
Mother, drowning in medical debt, muttered, “Raising you cost my health.”
Liang Sheng believed it. Obeyed quietly. Wanted to ease her mother’s pain.
But now… she was so, so tired.
Before the memories faded—her body stiffened. The blood was gone.
(End of Volume 2)
