‘Mom… was she calling ‘her’?’
‘What in the world?’
Zhuang Wenli halted, her gaze fixed on the young woman with a suspicious glint. The girl possessed clearly defined features, her eyes and brows remarkably striking, immediately marking her as a nascent beauty. Yet, her facial contours seemed strangely familiar, almost mirroring Zhuang Wenli’s own youthful visage. This was no mere boast on Zhuang Wenli’s part. In her prime, she had been renowned as the most captivating flower in ten villages, her admirers countless as fish migrating upstream. But a grave, indeed, an *extremely* grave issue now presented itself: she had no illegitimate daughters.
“You called me Mom?” Zhuang Wenli questioned, her expression instantly wary. “Don’t spout such nonsense! I’ve never had an affair! My husband, you see, was my first love.”
‘My mother, truly…’ Huang Xiu’s initial surge of panic was instantly dispelled by her mother’s comically dramatic declaration. Now, she found herself caught between laughter and exasperation.
“And furthermore…” Zhuang Wenli’s gaze darted swiftly across the faces and forms of Yuan Fei and his four companions. “Who exactly are all of you? And why are you loitering outside my home?”
She brandished her phone, her tone laced with menace. “Out with it, quickly, or I won’t hesitate to call the police!”
“Ahem.” Professor Yuan found himself sputtering, caught off guard by Huang Xiu’s mother’s exaggerated response. He finally understood why Huang Xiu occasionally displayed such inexplicable eccentricities in peculiar circumstances. ‘It appears to be a direct influence of her home environment!’
If Huang Xiu were privy to his thoughts, she would undoubtedly respond with a dismissive eye-roll. ‘You, old man, are clearly the one who’s truly out of tune!’
“We are instructors from Tiandu University’s admissions office.”
At this juncture, Yue Zhengyang, ever the picture of reliability, stepped forward. He addressed Zhuang Wenli and the others, explaining, “Our university’s admissions office should have contacted you yesterday to inform you of our home visit today. Do you recall that conversation?”
As he spoke, he subtly straightened his posture, allowing the Tiandu University emblem on his administrative jacket to become clearly visible.
‘Wait, the university called her family? When exactly? Why wasn’t I informed?’
Huang Xiu directed a bewildered glance at Professor Yuan, who returned an equally perplexed expression. Evidently, he was just as unaware.
“Senior Yue made the call yesterday,” Yun Ning clarified softly. “To allow your parents to prepare in advance.”
“Tiandu University… Oh!” Zhuang Wenli’s face abruptly cleared with a flash of realization, her demeanor softening into one of instant warmth and hospitality. The swiftness of this transformation was akin to a theatrical change of masks.
“I hadn’t anticipated you’d arrive so early! Come, come, please don’t linger outside. I’ll open the door; do come in and make yourselves comfortable.”
She squeezed her way through the assembled group, and Huang Xiu hastily moved aside to make way.
Zhuang Wenli attempted to retrieve her keys from her pocket to unlock the door, but the numerous bags she carried left her momentarily flustered.
“Allow me,” Huang Xiu offered, stepping forward to deftly take the bags from her mother’s grasp.
“Thank you,” Zhuang Wenli replied with a grateful smile, then produced her keys and opened the door.
‘She still hasn’t noticed, huh…’ Huang Xiu muttered to herself, a mix of relief and subtle irritation stirring within her.
With a series of groans and creaks, the anti-theft door’s aging hinges protested as it swung open, revealing the interior. Beyond the threshold lay a cozy entryway furnished with a shoe cabinet, and adorning the floor was a plush, charming Doraemon rug. Huang Xiu recalled it as her mother’s cherished design. Despite her age, her mother harbored an inexplicable fondness for Doraemon, a whimsical preference her father indulged by purchasing a collection of Doraemon figurines. Indeed, her mother often seemed more immersed in the world of anime than Huang Xiu herself.
The living room, situated to the right of the entryway, was clearly visible with just a slight turn of the head, even without fully stepping inside. Though not expansive, it exuded a profound sense of warmth. A family portrait of three rested on the sofa pressed against the wall: a tall man and a gentle woman, each holding a hand of a small boy whose face bore a faint, sweet smile.
Zhuang Wenli stepped inside first, exchanging her outdoor shoes for a pair of slippers. “There’s no need for any of you to change your shoes; just come right in,” she announced, heading towards the kitchen.
However, even before her words were fully out, Huang Xiu had already, with practiced efficiency, shed her white sneakers and slipped into her familiar slippers. She then proceeded to the living room, settling herself neatly onto the sofa.
Yuan Fei and his four companions, however, did not bother to change their footwear. They filed in one after another, taking seats beside Huang Xiu, and then a silent, awkward staring contest commenced amongst them.
Despite being seated on her most cherished sofa—a spot where she typically reveled in comfort—Huang Xiu felt utterly ill at ease, as though perched on a bed of needles, amidst the stifling atmosphere. She fidgeted restlessly, her legs pressed tightly together, her gaze fixed on Zhuang Wenli as she emerged from the kitchen, bearing a tray laden with hot tea.
“Come, come, have some tea!”
*Clatter!*
She set the tea tray down on the table, her eyes inadvertently brushing over the gray slippers adorning Huang Xiu’s feet. Zhuang Wenli’s expression flickered with a brief, unreadable pause, but she remained silent, instead pulling a stool to sit facing the five visitors.
“I truly apologize for my earlier behavior!” she offered, a sheepish smile gracing her lips. “This rascal passed the initial assessment and didn’t even bother to call home! If you hadn’t telephoned yesterday, prompting me to inquire with his homeroom teacher, I would have remained completely oblivious to the whole affair.”
At this pronouncement, Huang Xiu felt a bead of sweat trickle down her back. It wasn’t that she had forgotten to call; rather, she had simply not dared.
“Indeed, Student Huang demonstrated outstanding performance, perfectly aligning with Tiandu University’s admission criteria.”
These words came from Yuan Fei. As a professor at Tiandu University and the designated representative for this visit, it was his sole prerogative to make such declarations.
“Eh?” Zhuang Wenli blinked, momentarily stunned, then spoke with a hint of disbelief. “Really? Our little rascal…”
Truth be told, she still felt as though she were suspended in a dream, a sense of unreality lingering. Huang Xiu’s academic performance had always been distinctly average. How then, had she suddenly managed to pass both the preliminary and final examinations, securing admission to Tiandu University? Had she not already verified the phone number last night, confirming it was indeed from the Tiandu University admissions office, she might never have believed it.
Professor Yuan, a smug grin spreading across his face, chuckled, “I’ve already decided to take her on as my student. And to be *my* student, well, that naturally means…”
Noticing Professor Yuan veering increasingly off-topic, Yue Zhengyang discreetly cleared his throat, swiftly interjecting, “Madam, it’s like this: Student Huang possesses remarkable talents in certain areas, making her a highly sought-after individual for us. We intend to offer her a four-year tuition waiver and dedicated professional mentorship.”
These stipulations represented only the most fundamental aspects; no mention was made of the more specialized conditions pertaining to Awakened individuals. Huang Xiu had, of course, already been apprised of these details by Yue Zhengyang when she signed the letter of intent yesterday. However, Zhuang Wenli, hearing them for the first time, was utterly taken aback. “Oh, are the terms truly so generous?”
“Exceptional talent warrants exceptional treatment, naturally,” Yue Zhengyang responded with a light chuckle.
“Haha, my child isn’t *that* exceptional,” Zhuang Wenli demurred, yet the unbridled joy on her face betrayed her words, crinkling the corners of her eyes with laughter.
Huang Xiu recalled the last time her mother had smiled with such unadulterated happiness: it had been upon her acceptance into high school. Yet, even then, her mother’s eyes had held noticeably fewer wrinkles.
“Oh, by the way, didn’t Huang Xiu return with all of you?” Amidst her laughter, Zhuang Wenli finally pinpointed the crucial missing detail.
Huang Xiu recognized that with this question from her mother, their conversation had reached its most pivotal moment. Life or death, she mused, now hung precariously in the balance. Her hands instinctively began to nervously rub the hem of her clothes once more, while the other four, too, visibly stiffened, their expressions growing acutely alert.