A Self-Cultivation of a Stand-in [Transmigration GL] - Chapter 18

The Florist.

“Just these few, please. Wrap them up for me.”

Hua Luoyue pointed to the flowers she had selected and spoke to the shop owner.

She was already a regular; the owner skillfully picked out the stems and chatted while wrapping them: “Visiting your mom again?”

Hua Luoyue nodded. “Mhm…”

The owner glanced at Yu Zhezhi standing by the door. “Brought a friend along this time?”

Yu Zhezhi stood at the entrance looking down at her phone, not participating in the meaningless conversation at all.

Hua Luoyue took a glance at her, then nodded perfunctorily to the owner. “Yes…”

The owner was quick and efficient, soon handing over the wrapped bouquet. “There you go. I hope your mother recovers soon.”

That was the sentence Yu Zhezhi heard as she looked up. The owner was smiling; she didn’t seem to know the actual nature of Mother Hua’s illness and was simply offering a kind blessing.

Hua Luoyue didn’t argue or explain. She just gave a very soft smile and said, “Thank you…”

Before the owner could say anything more, Yu Zhezhi walked over and asked, “How much?”

“For a regular customer, I’ll give a discount. Twenty-five yuan.”

To Yu Zhezhi, these flowers were incredibly, almost unbelievably cheap. She looked down at the handful of simple flowers, then at the tiny storefront, but said nothing. She raised her phone to the owner. “Where do I scan?”

After paying and heading out, Hua Luoyue followed behind Yu Zhezhi with the flowers, whispering a “Thank you.”

Yu Zhezhi frowned, stopped, and motioned for her to go ahead. “You lead the way…”

This was her first time at this hospital. Although she knew Hua Luoyue’s family situation like the back of her hand, she had never needed to handle the details personally. One phone call, one command, and a detailed report would land on her desk. Even Mother Hua’s transfer had been handled by someone else after she gave the order. These were problems solvable with money—and to Yu Zhezhi, they were minor matters not worth committing to memory.

This was her first time at the hospital, and her first time seeing Mother Hua lying on the bed with her eyes closed.

Hua Luoyue walked into the ward with practiced ease and set the flowers on the table. There was a vase on the table—clearly something she had prepared later. The old flowers were only slightly wilted; Hua Luoyue took them out and replaced them with the new ones.

Yu Zhezhi stayed near the door, watching from a distance. She stayed out of sight of passersby in the hallway while still being able to see the person on the bed.

If one looked closely, there were similarities between Hua Luoyue and her mother’s features, but at first glance, they looked unrelated. Perhaps it was a stereotype from their first meeting, but Hua Luoyue was gentle and reserved; regardless of her actions, she looked like a well-behaved, obedient student.

Mother Hua wasn’t unattractive, but her features were more angular. Even with her eyes closed, one could see faint wrinkles on her forehead. The first impression she gave was that of a rigid, stern, and perhaps even harsh middle-aged woman.

Yu Zhezhi snapped out of it, thinking that this might be her own prejudice. According to the written reports and the past events recounted by others, Hua Luoyue’s mother hadn’t been a particularly great parent. On the contrary, she was cold, controlling, and a bit of a bully—someone who loved to assert her authority over her daughter.

A typical traditional, feudal patriarch figure.

The fact that the daughter grew up with such a timid and withdrawn personality was inextricably linked to her. Based on the old stories told by neighbors, she was the type of person who made people remark, “It’s scary that becoming a parent doesn’t require an exam.”

If it weren’t for the fact that Hua Luoyue’s sole demand was to continue her mother’s treatment, Yu Zhezhi would have thought “she deserved it” or “it’s karma” when reading the files.

Had it not been for the coincidence of Hua Luoyue saying she was going to the hospital today, Yu Zhezhi would have felt no desire to visit her. Even for the sake of the act. She generally felt a sense of disgust toward irresponsible mothers.

However, as the saying goes, “the dead are to be respected”—and while she wasn’t quite dead, in a certain sense, the principle applied.

Yu Zhezhi couldn’t understand Hua Luoyue’s attachment to her mother. What is this? Stockholm Syndrome?

But in the face of Hua Luoyue’s persistence, she wouldn’t say anything discouraging.

She thought Hua Luoyue might have something to say to her comatose mother, or at least update her on recent events. But Hua Luoyue just stood a bit closer to the bed, remaining just as silent.

After standing for about ten minutes, a nurse walked in. Hua Luoyue thanked her, saying things like “thank you for your hard work.” Then she turned to look at Yu Zhezhi with a questioning gaze.

Yu Zhezhi took a moment to realize the girl was likely asking if she had anything to say or do. Having ignored the woman previously and suddenly showing up at the hospital to see a comatose patient, there should be a reason.

Yu Zhezhi shook her head and said, “If there’s nothing else, let’s head back.”

The two walked side by side toward the exit. Yu Zhezhi called for a car. While waiting at the hospital entrance, Yu Zhezhi spoke to break the silence: “Do you come here often?”

“About twice a week. It’s not far,” Hua Luoyue replied.

“What do the doctors say?” Yu Zhezhi asked casually.

Hua Luoyue fell silent for a moment.

Yu Zhezhi realized she had asked the wrong thing. She had read the investigation reports many times; the conclusion was always the same—recovery was hopeless. Mother Hua only remained in a hospital bed because of Hua Luoyue’s somewhat ridiculous persistence.

But Yu Zhezhi couldn’t bring herself to apologize over such a small remark.

Fortunately, Hua Luoyue soon answered: “It’s always been the same.”

Yu Zhezhi gave an “Oh” and didn’t know what to say next. A conversation requires back-and-forth. Back at the apartment, at least Hua Luoyue would ask about her tastes in food, or at the very least, they could comment on each other’s clothing styles. But at the hospital entrance, so close to life and death, they hadn’t reached a level of intimacy where they could discuss things freely.

In the end, she could only offer a generic, detached compliment: “You love your mother very much.”

Yu Zhezhi heard Hua Luoyue let out a light chuckle.

“Did I say something wrong?” Yu Zhezhi turned to look at her.

“No…” Hua Luoyue shook her head.

A moment later, Yu Zhezhi realized that Hua Luoyue was actually answering her previous question.

“I don’t dare say I love her,” Hua Luoyue said. “That would seem quite stupid, wouldn’t it? But… there are only a handful of things a person is born with. Keeping a small bit of emotional support in my heart makes living feel a little less exhausting.”

“Ah… sorry…” Hua Luoyue suddenly snapped back. “Forget my babbling. It wasn’t anything important.”

A sharp boundary was suddenly drawn between them. Whenever Hua Luoyue saw Mother Hua in the ward, she felt a wave of emotion; those residual complex feelings and the deep resonance were things that allowed her to slowly integrate into this world. But she had almost forgotten that Yu Zhezhi was the one person she couldn’t share those subtle emotions with.

Yu Zhezhi had no obligation to comfort her. And it was difficult to find any sense of belonging in Yu Zhezhi. It would probably just make the woman think she was being sentimental or talking nonsense.

Predictably, Yu Zhezhi didn’t continue the conversation.

A black sedan pulled up in front of them. Yu Zhezhi opened the door and told Hua Luoyue to get in. After sitting in the back seat, Hua Luoyue asked, “Is President Yu not going back to the office?”

Yu Zhezhi got in from the other side. “I’ll go tomorrow.”

Hua Luoyue was quiet for a short while before asking out of the blue, “Was someone watching?”

“It seemed someone was taking photos,” Yu Zhezhi said.

Hua Luoyue understood. No wonder Yu Zhezhi wanted to go to the hospital with her. Yu Zhezhi had mentioned Miss Zhong’s wedding; they didn’t need to perform a grand act in public, but they couldn’t appear too distant. Especially since people were keeping an eye on them lately.

So, after getting out of the car and entering the complex, Yu Zhezhi reached out to grab Hua Luoyue’s wrist and led her into the elevator. Hua Luoyue didn’t struggle; instead, she obediently leaned closer to her.

There were other people in the elevator. Whether it was the evening rush or pure coincidence, quite a few people entered behind them. Hua Luoyue followed Yu Zhezhi as they retreated further back, almost pressing against the elevator wall.

Yu Zhezhi’s nose brushed against Hua Luoyue’s hair. She frowned instinctively and leaned back, resulting in a dull thud as her head hit the wall. There was nowhere left to retreat.

Noticing the noise, Hua Luoyue turned her head and met Yu Zhezhi’s furrowed brow. From the grip on her wrist alone, she could tell how tense Yu Zhezhi was. She really did seem to loathe physical contact with others.

Hua Luoyue showed a trace of apology but didn’t move. There was so little space that there was nowhere to go; moving too much would only draw attention. She just tried her best to shift slightly to the side so Yu Zhezhi wouldn’t be directly hitting the back of her head.

Seeing Yu Zhezhi’s increasingly contorted face in the polished metal reflection, she couldn’t help but smile.

Yu Zhezhi shot her a look of dissatisfaction. Hua Luoyue whispered, “You should try to smile. If someone sees us, they might think we’re fighting.”

Her voice was so quiet Yu Zhezhi almost couldn’t hear it. She just instinctively twitched her lips into an unnatural smile, while still instinctively trying to lean away.

Hua Luoyue looked down at her caught hand and said nothing.

Ding. The elevator stopped on a lower floor, and at least half the people walked out. They were laughing and talking together—likely a gathering of friends or family. No one noticed the anomaly in the back of the elevator. The space suddenly became much more spacious, and Yu Zhezhi breathed a silent sigh of relief.

The two young women in front were talking about an idiot leader at their company who tried to assert authority only to be humiliated by a “rich second generation” employee; they paid no attention to the activity in the corner.

Just as the story reached its climax, Yu Zhezhi heard Hua Luoyue call her name: “Sister Yu…”

“Hmm?”

“We’re here…” Hua Luoyue said.

The elevator doors opened again. The women in front heard her and moved aside to let them pass. Yu Zhezhi finally snapped out of it.

As she followed Hua Luoyue out, she heard the women behind them whispering.

“Are they a couple?”

“Looks like it.”

“Really?”

“I’ve seen the one in the back coming here occasionally. I’ve even seen them wearing matching rings.”

“I didn’t notice just now. They’re both beauties.”

“Right? I think they look so good together.”

…

The corners of Yu Zhezhi’s mouth, which had just begun to lift, slowly sank again.

Did they mean their faces matched? Or their personalities? It couldn’t just be the latter.

She hoped Hua Luoyue hadn’t heard those words. Walking ahead, Hua Luoyue said nothing. She stopped in front of the door and turned to look at Yu Zhezhi.

After a few seconds of eye contact, Yu Zhezhi asked with some impatience, “What?”

Hua Luoyue’s gaze drifted downward. “President Yu, I need to get the keys.”

Yu Zhezhi suddenly realized she was still holding the other woman’s wrist. Hua Luoyue’s free hand wasn’t in a good position to reach into her bag. As if burned, Yu Zhezhi let go instantly, almost wanting to jump back several steps.

As Hua Luoyue fished for her keys, she saw out of the corner of her eye that Yu Zhezhi instinctively rubbed her palm against her jacket, as if she had just touched something unclean. Was it an instinctive reaction toward everyone, or… just her?

Hua Luoyue lowered her eyelids and didn’t think further, quietly opening the door.

“Is it okay if I fry a few vegetable dishes for dinner?” Hua Luoyue set her bag down, turned on the lights, and took off her coat as she walked toward the kitchen. “I bought groceries yesterday; there’s still a little shredded pork left.”

Yu Zhezhi agreed. She didn’t demand an elaborate dinner. When she was in City X, Yu Zhezhi never lifted a finger for cooking. Hua Luoyue was always proactive and efficient. Usually, by the time Yu Zhezhi woke up or finished a work task, the table was already set.

Once inside with the door closed, Yu Zhezhi visibly relaxed. Hua Luoyue said dinner would be ready soon, so Yu Zhezhi didn’t go to her room. Instead, she sat on the living room sofa to check the new messages on her phone.

An acquaintance in her circle had sent her a secretly taken photo, asking if it was her marriage partner, saying people were already gossiping in private.

So that feeling of being watched this afternoon hadn’t been an illusion. Yu Zhezhi frowned. She chatted with the acquaintance for a bit before her mind settled. It seemed someone in City X who knew her had run into her going to the school to find Hua Luoyue. Driven by curiosity, they had taken a few photos and asked around for gossip.

There weren’t any malicious rumors yet; mostly just people close to her joking and asking for wedding candy. Yu Zhezhi replied coldly with a few “Haha,” “Okay,” and “I’ll make it up next time,” while starting to weigh the pros and cons of taking Hua Luoyue out in public.

The two most direct questions: Would Hua Luoyue continue to cause trouble and embarrass her? Or would she accidentally let something slip and cause a disaster? The second question depended on whether Hua Luoyue was willing to keep traveling to City A. Since she visited her mother at the hospital every week, she likely wouldn’t be very willing.

It would be better to think of a way to suppress others’ curiosity.

Yu Zhezhi’s thoughts paused. She looked up at Hua Luoyue busy in the kitchen. The girl was standing by the sink chopping vegetables, still wearing that cartoon apron. Her bangs had slipped down, obscuring her vision, and she casually tucked them behind her ear. She was so focused on cooking that she didn’t notice the gaze from the living room.

Before the Hua family’s trouble, did she prepare all the meals alone like this? Or did she only master the skill after her mother became ill?

While thinking idly, Yu Zhezhi pulled up the chat with Assistant Li. After typing and deleting for a while, she finally sent a question.

“Is Hua Luoyue’s mother’s illness truly untreatable?”

A moment later, Assistant Li replied with a few question marks. After taking a moment to process the question, she replied more cautiously.

“The probability of waking up is very low. While surgery is theoretically possible, there is over a 90% chance it would only accelerate death. There have only been three similar cases in history, and all were called miracles…”

This was followed by a large block of information she had gathered during her initial investigation, filled with medical terminology. Yu Zhezhi skimmed to the end.

Assistant Li said: “Furthermore, with the medical resources in City X, to be blunt, she’s just waiting to die.”

Yu Zhezhi asked: “What about City A?”

There was a silence on Assistant Li’s end. It was unclear if she was surprised or actually went to ask someone. After a few minutes, she replied: “The probability might only shift from 0.001 to 0.002. Still in the percentage range.”

While the medical resources and level in City X weren’t as good as City A, the root of Mother Hua’s condition wasn’t a gap in medical expertise. Even with the world’s most advanced equipment and famous doctors, you couldn’t bring the dead back to life.

—Mother Hua’s current state wasn’t much different from being dead.

The clatter of cleaning came from the kitchen. Hua Luoyue, entirely unaware of the conversation between Yu Zhezhi and Assistant Li, soon brought out the dishes and told Yu Zhezhi to wash her hands.

Yu Zhezhi had no intention of explaining anything to her. She simply sent a quick reply to Assistant Li: “Go make the arrangements.”

She immediately added: “Don’t tell Hua Luoyue I suggested it.”

Assistant Li could only reply with a question mark.

Yu Zhezhi sent a final message: “I don’t want her to misunderstand.”

She didn’t want the girl to misunderstand and think she cared about her. Sympathy, pity—perhaps both were there. Yu Zhezhi didn’t understand Hua Luoyue’s feelings for her mother, yet she felt the girl was somewhat pitiful.

It made her think of her distant past self.

It seemed a long, long time ago, she had also held onto that meaningless hope, standing at the door day after day staring into the distance, thinking: It would be great if Mom could come back.

Even though she had hated her so much.