Lin Beixing was utterly stunned by the term the woman outside the door had used.

"Xiao Yu?"

What kind of nickname was that?

Could it be an ex-lover showing up… or one of Lu Yu’s romantic entanglements?!

Given Lu Yu’s looks, picking up a few admirers wouldn’t be surprising…

Lin Beixing bit her lip, hesitating over the doorknob.

If this woman really was Lu Yu’s girlfriend—or ex—how was she supposed to face her?

And honestly… she’d feel a little hurt, too.

Her mind swirled with chaotic thoughts.

Then came another knock—softer, more tentative this time.

"Xiao Yu…"

"Don’t you want to see me?"

The woman’s voice carried a hint of humility. Lin Beixing heard the rustle of the bag shifting from right hand to left.

The sound felt heavy—clearly weighed down by groceries.

"Could you open the door…?"

"Lunch isn’t ready yet, right? Mom bought ingredients. I’ll cook for you…"

"What…?"

Inside, Lin Beixing’s jaw dropped. Her pupils trembled.

*Mom?!*

She just called herself "Mom," right?! RIGHT?!

So this woman was… Lu Yu’s mother?!

Her heart hammered.

An inexplicable tension gripped her—fear of failing to play Lu Yu convincingly, or maybe just instinctive nerves around an elder.

She gently lifted the little cat munching by the door and set it further inside, then pressed the doorknob down.

The door creaked open.

A sunbeam cut through the dim hallway. Dust motes floated in the light.

The woman stood quietly, plastic bag brimming with vegetables, fruit, and a slab of fresh crimson pork.

Her eyes and brows echoed Lu Yu’s—those captivating almond-shaped eyes clearly inherited.

Lin Beixing recognized that gaze: a mother looking at her child.

But hers was more direct, more sincere, more tentative. A trace of warmth softened features so like her son’s.

Fine lines crinkled at her eyes—more visible as she looked up. Those wrinkles held not just time’s passage, but deep, quiet love.

"How was school this week? Eating well? Any colds? It’s so hot lately—drink less ice water. Cut back on cola. Never drink cold water after running. I saw the news: a young man drank ice water in the scorching sun, burst a blood vessel, vomited two liters of blood…"

The moment she saw Lu Yu, his mother launched into her familiar fussing.

She knew he preferred silence—but she couldn’t help it.

Her hand, marked by the bag’s weight, rose toward his arm… then withdrew.

Softly: "You look thinner, Xiao Yu… Eat well. If money’s tight, tell Mom. I won’t let you go hungry."

Lin Beixing’s lips parted. A lump tightened her throat.

She swallowed hard, forcing her voice steady.

"Mom… money’s enough."

"I eat fine. A chicken leg every day… Don’t worry."

She had no idea how Lu Yu usually replied—but seeing that tender, cautious love, she knew she had to reassure her.

"That’s good…"

Lu Yu’s mother finally patted his arm. Solid. Not thin. But a mother’s worry made him seem fragile.

She bent to lift the groceries.

Lin Beixing quickly took the bag.

A warmer smile bloomed in the mother’s eyes—as if one small gesture was enough to fill her with quiet joy.

"Mom’s making your favorites: sweet and sour pork ribs, stir-fried spicy cabbage, boiled fish… Plenty for dinner."

"And the milk—take it to school tomorrow."

"I know, Mom…"

She stopped before the second "Mom" slipped out.

Almost said "Mama"—but caught herself. Boys say "Mom." Good thing she remembered.

Lin Beixing led her inside, rummaging the shoe rack. No women’s slippers.

*This Lu Yu… didn’t even prepare slippers for his mom?!*

Lu Yu’s mother placed the milk carton neatly in the corner and smiled at "Lu Yu."

"No need to change shoes. I’ll tidy up before I leave. Don’t worry."

Lin Beixing stood speechless.

(She’d cleaned yesterday… but not perfectly.)

A soft rustling came from the room—Mei Qiu using the litter box.

The mother tied on a dusty apron and began washing vegetables.

Morning light, but enough ingredients for a hot lunch.

Lin Beixing didn’t know what to do.

*Lu Yu would just sit quietly gaming.*

She sat on the bed, took Lu Yu’s phone, and typed:

*Yu: Lu Yu, your mom’s here.*

………………

Meanwhile.

Lu Yu ate his miniature breakfast.

(Thankfully, last night’s snack had been filling.)

His phone buzzed.

He calmly glanced at the screen.

Lin Beixing’s phone showed previews before dimming.

He saw the words. A jolt.

*…Of all times for Mom to show up.*

*He’d told her: live your life. Don’t worry about me.*

Screen went dark. He lowered his eyes, kept eating.

Perfectly calm—like he’d just glanced at a random ad.

Lin Beixing’s mother across the table noticed nothing.

She set down her spoon, gaze fixed on "Lin Beixing."

"The housekeeper said one corn is missing from the fridge."

*Cough—* Lu Yu choked on his milk.

She waited silently for an explanation.

Lu Yu had little to offer.

"I was hungry last night, Mom… accidentally ate one…" (Gently phrased. He’d also had cereal and bread—but those were harder to notice.)

*Note to self: safer midnight snacks next time in this body.*

Lin Beixing’s mother sighed. Her delicate brows furrowed.

Lu Yu felt a flicker of fear—that deep, bodily instinct.

*Lin Beixing hates when her mom’s angry. She’s said it before.*

He set down the glass, head bowed.

"Sorry, Mom. Won’t happen again…"

"If you’re hungry, cook it next time." Her voice stayed stern, eyes sharp on him.

"The housekeeper found a raw cob in the trash. It’s fridge-cold—you’ll get sick."

She delivered care wrapped in indifference.

Lu Yu paused. Looked up.

"I understand, Mom…"