That night, Bo Xinghang undoubtedly could not sleep.
He managed to doze off for a short while, but before he could enter a deep sleep, the daughter of the barbecue stall owner downstairs started crying again. Her voice was so piercing that it cut through the building, disturbing the neighbors.
He thought he had gotten used to such disturbances, but as he got up and squinted at his phone in the harsh light, he realized he wasn’t as unaffected as he had thought.
It was annoying.
His phone showed it was just past 1 AM, and he had only been asleep for about half an hour.
The last message in his pinned chat was from Doctor Ji at 11 PM, telling him to go to bed early.
Go to bed early, Bo Xinghang repeated to himself, sighing.
Just as he was about to plug in his earphones to listen to Doctor Ji’s voice to calm down, the person in the next room was also woken up and started yelling at the people downstairs.
“Whose kid is that? Can’t the parents control their damn child? Some of us are trying to sleep!”
There was no response, just the crying growing louder. Bo Xinghang’s mother’s shouting only grew louder, “Did you fucking hear me! What kind of parent are you—can’t even take care of your own kid, idiot!”
“…” Bo Xinghang pressed his lips together, rolling over as he played one of Doctor Ji’s saved voice messages.
His mother’s voice was loud enough to overpower the crying, and soon others joined in, shouting from across the building.
This old, cheap neighborhood was full of low-class people who loved to gang up on others.
Some seemed to enjoy standing on their high moral ground, criticizing others as if it elevated them. But the foul stench inside them always began to leak out the moment they opened their mouths.
It was disgusting.
Bo Xinghang closed his eyes, clutching Doctor Ji’s shirt close to him, inhaling the comforting scent as he repeated “Go to bed early” to himself and forced himself to sleep.
The next day, Bo Xinghang showed up at school with dark circles under his eyes, exuding an aura that warned others not to mess with him. No one dared to talk about it openly, but they shot glances at Xu Yi, urging him to ask.
Xu Yi didn’t need any encouragement; he was dying of curiosity. But Hang-ge was taking naps whenever he could, leaving no chance to ask him anything.
Finally, during lunch, as Bo Xinghang stood in line to get food, Xu Yi quickly asked, “Hang-ge, what’s up with you!”
After sending a message to Doctor Ji, Bo Xinghang lazily replied, “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Couldn’t sleep?” Xu Yi was skeptical. He slapped Bo Xinghang’s arm. “It wasn’t because you and sister-in-law… that, ahem…”
“Ahem, my ass.” Bo Xinghang was getting tired of his imagination. After buying his meal with his card, he quickly pushed the embarrassing thing to the side.
Bo Xinghang pointed at him. “Shut up and eat. Got it?”
Xu Yi obediently made an “OK” gesture and quickly took a few bites of his food. But after just a couple of seconds, he couldn’t resist asking, “Hang-ge, sister-in-law, ahem…?”
“…”
Xu Yi winked. “Hang-ge, I’m just curious~~”
Bo Xinghang felt that his headache, which had been bothering him all morning, became even worse.
He tapped his fingers on the table to remind Xu Yi, “Your food’s getting cold.”
“Hang-gege gege~~~”
“…”
Bo Xinghang felt like he could kill him. His head was really throbbing. “My mom came back yesterday. She spent half the night yelling back and forth with the kid crying downstairs, keeping me awake. Got it?”
He didn’t want to talk about his mother at all. Even when he video-called Doctor Ji last night, he only mentioned that he had gone home.
He didn’t want to worry Doctor Ji, who was busy with work.
When Xu Yi realized it was about Bo Xinghang’s mother, he wisely kept his mouth shut and quietly focused on his meal.
Finally, Bo Xinghang had some peace and quiet.
That evening, when he returned home, his mother was still there, sitting on the sofa and watching some mindless TV channel. Luckily, when she saw him come back, she didn’t say anything or react in any way. She just glanced at him briefly and returned to criticizing the TV.
Bo Xinghang didn’t say anything either, silently walking back to his room.
He had no idea why his mother had suddenly returned this time, staying for days despite the crying downstairs, and not going out to play cards with her “sisters” like she usually did. Instead, she just sat there, watching TV all day.
But it didn’t really matter to him. He locked the door tightly and focused on his studies and videos.
This balance lasted for about a week and a half. When Bo Xinghang returned home again, he found his mother in the middle of a deep cleaning.
She was wearing an apron she’d dug up from somewhere and was mopping the floor, starting from the kitchen. Seeing this scene as he walked in the door, he was startled at first, then felt dazed.
This was a sight he used to see often before his high school entrance exams. Almost every night when he got home, his mother would be wearing that faded apron, mopping from one end of the house to the other.
His father would sit nearby with his legs crossed, joking, “Look at your mom. She just can’t sit still. She was just complaining about her back and legs hurting, but the next minute she’s up and mopping. You can’t stop her.”
Back then, he’d smile and reply, “Mom, take a break. I’ll mop after I finish my homework. You can’t be mopping floors your whole life.”
And his mom would laugh too, “In your dreams! Who’s going to mop for you forever?”
He used to think that was just an ordinary scene, a typical conversation. He never imagined that in just three years, he’d find such a scene surprising and ridiculous.
Standing in the doorway, Bo Xinghang paused for two seconds before asking, “What are you doing?”
It was a pointless question. As soon as he said it, he felt as if his IQ had been infected by Xu Yi.
“What do you mean, what am I doing?” His mother predictably responded with another question, leaning the mop against the table and dusting off her hands. “Put your bag down and wash up for dinner.”
“…”
The scene was eerily similar to one from three years ago.
His mother’s natural attitude made him almost believe that the past three years had been nothing but a nightmare, one from which he had just woken up, with everything back to the way it was.
But no. It wasn’t a nightmare.
It was because of those past three years that he became the person he was now. It was because of those experiences that he met the light in that dark garbage dump.
Meeting Doctor Ji had turned every dark moment into something to be treasured.
Bo Xinghang pressed his lips together and gave his mother a mocking smile.
“Why?”
Why? How could she pretend like nothing had happened?
His question made no sense. His mother, tired of pretending, dropped the act and snapped, “Why do you have so many questions? Are you going to eat or not?!”
“I’m not eating.”
His mother got angry. “I’ve been working hard, and you tell me you’re not eating? I—”
Bo Xinghang frowned and interrupted, “What do you want?”
“…”
He didn’t believe she’d suddenly decided to play the role of a good housewife without a reason. Realizing he didn’t want to watch her fake performance any longer, he said, “This is your last chance. If you don’t tell me now, I’m not listening.”
Hearing that, his mother panicked. Forget about dinner—she quickly said, “I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you.”
The fact that she suddenly looked so meek was suspicious, but Bo Xinghang didn’t interrupt. He had to find out what was going on. Otherwise, who knew what might happen?
“I heard your grandma was hospitalized? Must’ve cost a lot?”
Bo Xinghang looked at her without saying a word.
His mother seemed embarrassed. After thinking for a moment, she decided to come straight out with it, “Can you lend me some money? I know your grandma’s hospital bills are high, but I’m really out of options…”
She didn’t notice how tightly Bo Xinghang was clenching his fists and continued to complain, “Who knew those old hags would be so shameless, cheating at cards and making me pay up! Damn it, what am I supposed to do? Without anyone to back me up, I just have to suck it up and take the loss. I fucking…”
“I don’t have any money,” Bo Xinghang calmly interrupted.
As he said this, his tightly clenched fists relaxed, and he felt surprisingly calm. He glanced at her coldly and asked, “What makes you think you have the right to say that?”
His voice was measured, each word firm and unyielding, “Three years ago, you were still my mom. From the day you started gambling away money, you should have realized that I no longer have a mother.”
He repeated, “Bo Xinghang doesn’t have a mother anymore.”
Saying it out loud was easier than he had imagined. Beyond the relief, there was a deep sense of satisfaction.
It felt damn good.
Bo Xinghang didn’t bother to look at his mother’s expression. He turned and walked toward his room, saying as he went, “This house belongs to my grandma. If she doesn’t want to sell it, don’t even think about it. You have one day to pack your things and get out of my grandma’s house.”
There was no response from behind, but he didn’t care. He hadn’t intended for things to get so awkward, but in that moment, he changed his mind.
Doctor Ji was coming back in two days. Bo Xinghang decided to pack his things and stay alone at Doctor Ji’s place for a while to clear his head.
When he opened his door to start packing, he noticed that the quilt, which had been neatly folded, was now a mess. The wrinkles on the bedsheet were a clear sign that someone had been in his room and gone through his things.
Almost instinctively, Bo Xinghang lifted his pillow, searching for the shirt he used as a makeshift comfort.
In that same instant, he rushed out of the room, veins bulging in his neck, eyes burning with fury, and his breath heavy. “Did you fucking touch my stuff?!”
His outburst seemed to confirm her suspicions. His mother, who had been pushed to the edge earlier, now showed no fear of his anger. She snapped back, “Yeah! So fucking what?! Disgusting—just like your father; both of you are fucking perverts!”
As if recalling some past trauma, her whole body trembled. She covered her mouth and retched a couple of times.
Bo Xinghang dug his fingertips into his palm, the pain almost piercing his skin. He had never felt so much restraint in his life, yet he managed to ask, “Where’s the shirt? Give it back to me.”
Long-held restraint often leads to an even bigger emotional outburst. When he heard her cold reply, “I threw it out,” every drop of blood in his body surged to the surface. His nails pierced his skin, but he felt no pain.
With blood-stained hands, he grabbed his mother’s head and pressed it against the table.
The force was so strong that she bumped into the mop nearby. The blood oozed to her forehead, cheek, and mouth.
Bo Xinghang’s palm was burning, the wound from earlier tearing wider, causing blood to pour out uncontrollably. It slowly trickled down from his palm, dripping from his fingertips onto the woman’s hair.
Her head was soaked in blood, though it was hard to tell whose it was—hers or his.
It was as if Bo Xinghang had lost all sense of pain, his mind shutting down. His hand moved mechanically as he repeatedly demanded, “Where is it? Where’s the shirt?”
His mother was terrified—completely terrified.
She never imagined that a simple shirt could push the boy to this extent.
But what she would never understand was that the shirt itself wasn’t the most important thing. It was the promise that Doctor Ji had made to him when he gave him that shirt.
It was the first time, after three years of an empty, lonely life, that he felt he had a home—someone he could fully rely on.
But she would never understand.
All she did was cover her mouth, make a retching gesture, and point at him, calling him disgusting and a pervert.
He couldn’t remember when he finally let go, how he left the house, or how he ended up at Doctor Ji’s place.
Bo Xinghang collapsed on Doctor Ji’s sofa, surrounded by familiar scents, his nose stinging with the urge to cry.
It was as if his senses were returning. His head pounded with pain, the cut on his palm had finally stopped bleeding, but the delayed pain shot through his entire arm, making it numb.
And his heart—it felt like it was being crushed, suffocating, the pain unbearable. Bo Xinghang had never felt such agony.
So much so that when he heard the sound of the door unlocking and saw Doctor Ji’s shocked expression, the first words out of his mouth were:
“Doctor Ji… it hurts so much.”
Author’s note:
Finally finished this part!!
It’s an essential scene—not sweet now, but it’s setting up for the sweetness to come.
In the next chapter, we’ll have the college entrance exams. We’re getting close to the end! I’m truly grateful to everyone who’s been with me this far. There’s so much more to say, but we’ve still got several chapters left. I’ll save the thanks for later~ovo
