“Yo, Xiao Gu, back so early?”
As I walked through the door carrying heavy plastic bags, my mom emerged from the kitchen holding a bowl of vegetables.
Seeing me, she didn’t seem particularly thrilled. She glanced at the clock with an ambiguous expression, clicking her tongue loudly, as if deliberately making sure I heard.
“I thought you’d be back later. That way, I could’ve made less food and had an easier time.”
Classic Mom… I’m already numb to her antics.
I used to think about snapping back with some retort, but now that I’m older, I’ve gotten lazier. I just nodded expressionlessly, silently hoping she’d stop voicing her thoughts so bluntly in front of me—at least not in such a flat, indifferent tone.
Mom set the vegetable bowl on the table. I glanced at it—unwashed greens.
“Hurry up and put those bags down. Don’t they feel heavy? I know you’ve got a great physique from working out, probably turning heads with the girls, but your mom’s an old auntie now. I’m not gonna gush over your muscles.”
The corner of my mouth twitched involuntarily. As soon as I set the bulging plastic bags on the table, Mom eagerly tore them open, laying out the New Year’s goods I’d bought one by one.
“Hmm, not bad at all. This is better than I expected. Did you pick all these yourself?”
Mom stood by the table, chin in hand, scrutinizing the New Year’s goods for a moment before turning her gaze to me.
I had just taken off the navy-blue coat Zhinian gave me and hung it on the hook by the entrance. Turning around, I met Mom’s inquisitive look and shook my head in response.
“No, Zhinian helped me pick a lot of them. Most of those dried fruits were ones she tried and approved before I bought them.”
As I explained the origin of the goods to Mom, flashes of Zhinian’s ambiguous actions while taste-testing at the dried fruit shop crossed my mind.
Immediately, the skin on my right index finger began to itch, as if it were being licked again by her soft, moist cat tongue, its gentle barbs teasing my skin, raising goosebumps.
“Oh? No wonder. These choices feel pretty unique. You wouldn’t pick stuff like this, Xiao Gu.”
“How would I pick, then?”
Mom’s “I know you so well” expression piqued my curiosity about how she saw me.
In most social situations, I observe people’s personalities and habits, crafting various masks to passively adapt to their interactions. It’s a bit better with family, but my smiles still feel forced.
Despite having a happy family and parents with normal values, my personality isn’t quite “normal”—at least, it’s a bit peculiar compared to my peers. Could it be because of my parents’ laid-back, hands-off parenting style?
Even when I’m alone in my room, I don’t ponder my dreams, goals, or future. Instead, I distract myself with things like studying or reading.
This often leads me to pause and sink into thought when I’m with Zhinian, constantly questioning what I truly want in the moment.
From this perspective, I’m actually more conflicted and troublesome than Zhinian.
She’s already decided what she wants deep down and has even planned it out—she just lacks the courage to take the first step.
Meanwhile, I haven’t even clarified my own goals, so I’m nowhere near the stage of gathering courage. I just live day by day, going with the flow.
“I don’t know your personality? You’re lazy. You’d first observe what others pick, make a mental list of the most popular choices, then factor in your dad’s and my tastes before finalizing. Done.”
She’s not wrong.
When it comes to food, I might show mild likes or dislikes, but I’m never too intense. No matter how bad something tastes, I’d just frown and swallow it, rarely voicing my opinion clearly.
As for other hobbies or interests, I’m only mildly enthusiastic at best. The mini camera was a “survivor” from rounds of filtering when Zhinian and I exchanged Christmas gifts. Normally, I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to buy it.
Mom sighed, reaching over to poke my left chest. “You, can’t you figure out what you actually want? How did I raise a kid who seems so indifferent, like you don’t care about anything? It’s not like your dad and I are broke.”
If I were the old me, how would I respond? Probably just nod and brush it off with a few vague words.
Instinctively, I wanted to do what I’ve always done—muddle through and gloss over the question.
…to dodge it, avoiding things I should face head-on.
But scenes of my time with Zhinian kept flashing through my mind. I could see the me from those moments—sincere and patient, completely different from the “Gu Fan” who often wears a fake mask. So, I can change…
Lowering my eyes, I took a deep breath, my lungs filling with unstoppable energy.
“I get it. After exams, I want to visit the flower market.”
“Hmph, that’s more like it! People need to be adaptable, keep their minds sharp. I don’t want a son who’s handsome but dull-witted.”
Mom’s eyes lit up brightly, and she let out a hearty laugh, enthusiastically patting my shoulder several times.
From what I know of her, my change must’ve shocked her, prompting such an animated reaction.
I wondered how Zhinian would react if she saw me being this decisive and proactive.
Unconsciously, my mind drifted back to the dried fruit shop, when I impulsively offered Zhinian the last bit of mango, hoping to see her flustered. Instead, she boldly took my finger in her mouth with a determined look…
Forget it. Tease a cat too much, and it’ll hiss and pounce. Zhinian’s gentle bite was probably a warning not to push her too far.
“By the way, why’re you back so early? No plans tonight?”
“Yeah, exams are coming up. Zhinian and I agreed to aim for the top hundred so we can be in the same class.”
On the way home after buying New Year’s goods, Zhinian had hugged my waist, softly sharing her……resolve.
“We have to be in the same class. Let’s work hard together, okay?”
Her soft, cotton-like voice drifted to my ears, like whispers in the wind. If I hadn’t paid close attention, I might’ve missed it.
I’d looked into our usual grades beforehand—both Zhinian and I consistently rank in the top fifty. But the class assignment system is tricky, with a fifty-fifty chance of being randomly sorted.
Zhinian’s words felt more like self-reassurance, as if she was comforting herself to avoid letting excessive worry affect her performance