Lu Yu’s tiny apartment didn’t even have a single spare chair.

During lunch, Lin Beixing had practically turned his room upside down searching for one.

This guy… seriously never thought about what to do if guests came over.

Then again, with a room this small, planning for “guests” was kind of pointless.

“Mom, you take the chair. I’ll sit on the bed,” Lin Beixing said, pressing gently on Lu’s mother’s shoulder to keep her seated.

“Oh, I can eat standing. Don’t fuss over me,” Lu’s mother murmured, trying to rise several times—only to be stopped by “Lu Yu.”

After a quiet back-and-forth, she finally relented and settled into the room’s only chair.

The lunch Lu’s mother prepared was overflowing. Every usable container in the apartment held a dish, plates crammed tightly across Lu Yu’s computer desk. Steaming food gleamed under the fluorescent light; rich aromas filled the cramped space. Her movements were smooth, practiced—clearly not her first time cooking here. Worrying *was* a mother’s instinct.

“If you’re busy, leave after eating. I’ll clean up,” Lin Beixing said, digging a bite of rice from the very bottom of her bowl.

Her bowl was heaped with meat and veggies, stacked higher than her fingers—so precariously full she had to excavate for rice. She knew this mountain was Lu’s mother’s quiet, weighty love.

“I’m not busy. My high-speed train ticket home is for 3 PM. Leaving at 2 is fine,” Lu’s mother replied.

“…Okay. I’ll walk you out later,” Lin Beixing nodded.

*High-speed train ticket…*

So she lived far from Jiangshui City.

She’d traveled all this way… just to cook one meal for her son.

The bowl in Lin Beixing’s hands suddenly felt unbearably heavy. *What a waste if Lu Yu never tastes this.*

“Xiao Yu…”

Lu’s mother’s bowl held only half a serving of rice and greens. Her slender fingers cradled it; she set it down after a few bites. Her eyes, cautious and clouded with worry, flickered to “Lu Yu’s” hands—then away.

“Go ahead,” Lin Beixing set her own bowl down, listening closely.

“While tidying your desk… I saw many books…” Her voice was feather-soft, as if louder words might bruise him. “Those books… are they textbooks?”

Lin Beixing hadn’t grasped the question’s weight. She nodded instinctively.

“Yes…”

“Have you started…” She paused. “Started… studying?”

Lu’s mother looked up, eyes glistening. Lin Beixing’s throat tightened.

*Say “no.” He’s still last in class. He doesn’t care.*

But faced with that gentle, hopeful gaze—she couldn’t.

“No need to answer. Just wondering… I won’t force you.”

“As long as you’re happy and well, Mom is content.”

“I support the path you choose.”

*He needs guidance. Someone to wake him up.* Lin Beixing ached for this mother to join the teacher, to join *her*—to pull Lu Yu back. But she only offered unconditional support, even if the path was wrong.

Lin Beixing didn’t know his past. She could only nod numbly.

“Mom. I’m doing fine. Don’t worry about me.”

*Maybe that’s all she needs to hear.*

Lu’s mother smiled, piling more meat into Lin Beixing’s bowl. “My only wish is your happiness. Eat up.”

“Mm… mm…” Lin Beixing nodded woodenly.

The food towered nearly past her chin. *Can this body even hold this much?*

Yet tears pricked her eyes.

*Darn it… I wanna cry.*

*Stupid Lu Yu—hurry back and taste Auntie’s cooking!*

She pressed her lips tight, fighting the swell in her chest.

…

“Gurgle…”

Lu Yu clutched his rumbling stomach, staring gloomily at the ceiling.

Lin Beixing’s room had a pure white ceiling, European moldings tracing the edges, a crystal chandelier glittering center-stage.

He was starving. That tiny snack twenty minutes ago? Useless.

*Sweet and sour pork ribs… braised fish in soy sauce…*

Mom *definitely* made her signature dishes.

But that heartless woman ate alone—and didn’t even send a photo! Didn’t reply to a single message!

He rolled over lazily.

Only solution now: sleep through the hunger.

Wake up… and face the piano.

He’d spent an hour this morning fumbling through piano tutorials on his phone.

He *sort of* knew what the notes meant. Actually hitting the right keys? Never tried.

Facing the coming storm, Lu Yu stayed oddly calm.

*Either way, I’m doomed. Might as well steal a few happy seconds before the punishment hits.*