To Covet (GL) - Chapter 48

It wasn’t until I had finished filling in the basic information on the front page that I remembered the one-inch photo. After rummaging through my belongings, the only usable photo I found was from kindergarten graduation.

I decided to fill out the rest of the form first and then go out to take a new picture. The next page, however, turned out to be another cover. Thinking it was a misprint, I lifted the booklet and shook it out. Another registration booklet, which had been stuck inside, fell out.

Gao Rui’s one-inch photo was perfectly aligned with the edge. Her handwriting was meticulous small-block calligraphy. In contrast, the flowing signature underneath was particularly prominent. Although I didn’t want to pry into private information, I couldn’t help but glance at it.

The name “Gao Anqin” spanned two table rows wide. The characters weren’t scrawled and were instantly recognizable. I almost missed the artistic signature above it, which belonged to another person. But I lacked the discerning eye; besides the surname “Li,” I couldn’t recognize what the rest of the characters were.

“Your registration form was left with me. I’ll bring it to you tomorrow.”

After sending the message, I realized Gao Rui hadn’t replied to my previous message, nor had she mentioned the tutoring today, proving she really hadn’t had time to look at her phone for the past two days.

For the first time taking ID photos since moving to Linzhou, I deliberately chose a shop with photo editing services and picked up the photos just as they were closing.

I placed the registration booklet on the dining table, neatly positioned the headshot, then realized I’d forgotten the glue stick and turned back to my room.

I heard the sound of the door opening and closing, the footsteps were very light. I naturally assumed Yu Zhouwan was back and was about to show off my finely edited ID photo to her. Thus, when I ran into Shi Yunya, I mechanically said, “You’re back,” even forgetting to use a proper title.

Shi Yunya put down the booklet in her hand, nodded at me, and sat on the sofa with a glass of water.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the paper spread out on the table. It seemed she had only casually flipped through it and signed in one of the spots reserved for the guardian.

I was secretly glad I had stuffed Gao Rui’s registration booklet into my bag earlier.

“Where is my sister?”

“She’s with her tutor for class.”

I was about to go back and do practice problems, but Shi Yunya suddenly called out to me.

“Do you have a lot of homework today?”

“It’s okay. I finished a lot of it at school.” To squeeze out time for the competition, I finished most of my homework secretly during class, sometimes even getting ahead on later exercises. My free time was quite ample.

“Shall we chat for a bit?” Shi Yunya poured me a glass of water. “You want to sign up for the winter camp?”

“Mhm.”

I suddenly remembered that since she was married to Yu Hanyang, she was nominally my… stepmother? I rubbed my arm. No goosebumps, but I still felt a persistent disgust.

“Have you set the date for your finals?”

“Yes, January 9th. It’s a three-day exam.”

“I see your winter camp is from the 10th to the 25th, which is almost right up to Chinese New Year,” she suddenly showed great concern for the competition training. “Do you have to stay out the whole time? Is anyone going with you?”

“Yes, a classmate, and some others from the same school.”

“That’s good. About the fees and expenses, I saw a lot written on the form. Have you told your dad?”

I shook my head. Yu Hanyang was the type of person who would talk a lot of nonsense and lecture no matter how much money I needed. After a rough calculation of the unavoidable expenses and course fees, the total came to about twenty thousand. I planned to tell him after I had filled in all the registration information—presenting him with a fait accompli.

“No, I just got the form today. It says I need to fill in the information,” I didn’t want to talk to her much, so I just played dumb. “I also have to take a test. I can only be admitted if I pass.”

“Is it organized by the school?”

“Mhm.”

“But the signature line at the bottom says Xizhou No. 1 High School.”

“I’m not sure. Maybe their teachers are coming to teach,” I felt increasingly impatient with this. She neither generously offered money nor got to the point, just rambling on about trivial, inoffensive small talk. “The school gave it out. I didn’t look closely.” I desperately wished she would just nod and end the conversation.

Shi Yunya’s eyes flickered uncertainly. Seeing me pick up the registration booklet and turn to go back to my room, she picked up her water cup and stared at me, struggling with whether to speak what was on her mind.

“What’s wrong?”

Yu Hanyang pushed the door open and saw Shi Yunya grabbing my arm. He immediately looked nervous.

“Nothing. Keyi just needed me to sign a form.”

Shi Yunya let go of my hand, apparently deciding not to bring up the real issue. This made me incredibly curious, especially seeing Yu Hanyang’s sudden change of face, as if he were afraid of my relationship with her becoming closer.

Although I generally tried to ignore both of them, like avoiding couples hugging on the street—intimate interactions between them made me feel nauseous—on second thought, ever since Shi Yunya argued with him over that privately misappropriated fund, I rarely saw her and Yu Hanyang come back at the same time. On the rare occasions they did enter together, they went their separate ways—Shi Yunya to the bedroom, Yu Hanyang to the study. I had thought this polite, distant style of interaction was the new trend among business-elite couples this winter.

“You’re back so early. Did you finish all your business?” Shi Yunya sat back down on the sofa, peeled an orange, and ate it herself, heavily emphasizing the word “business.”

“Nothing much going on today.” Yu Hanyang lit a cigarette, intending to go to the balcony for a smoke.

“Keyi has a winter camp activity. You should take a look.”

“What is it?”

I deeply regretted not making a timely exit from watching the drama unfold.

I had intended to watch their cold war, happily anticipating either one of them getting snubbed, but the finger was pointed at me first.

“Ask her yourself. I’m not clear on the details.”

I handed him the registration booklet.

“How much does it cost?”

“The appendix is at the back.” Since he asked so directly, I decided to be equally blunt.

“What kind of class is so expensive?”

“Specialized competition training teachers. They write the questions for the national competitions every year.”

“Doesn’t Qizhong have them? ”

“They’re not as professional as outside resources.”

Xizhou, after all, was the place that claimed the provincial top scorer in the college entrance exam almost every year.

“This is over twenty thousand for just ten-plus days of class,” Yu Hanyang clicked his tongue. “Xiao Ya, tell me, how much money does it take to raise a child these days?”

I stared intently at the shift in his expression. The need for money brought with it a profound sense of shame. Whether it was asking Yang Chun when I was little or facing Yu Hanyang now, the saying “He who depends on another must bow low” constantly hammered at me, strengthening my resolve to break ties with them immediately after finishing high school.

Yu Hanyang’s expression reminded me of Yang Chun using up her meager salary and asking him for living expenses. He had frowned just like this back then, and then, feigning reluctance, produced an amount far less than what was needed, saying, “Xiao Chun, you know money doesn’t grow on trees. Save where you can, and ask if it’s not enough.”

If Yang Chun had known that he was secretly hoarding money and living a flashy life outside, and was now guiltlessly living comfortably with Shi Yunya, she wouldn’t have made a huge public fuss, given her personality. But she also wouldn’t have been grateful for the few banknotes—which now looked like mere handouts—enduring until even Yu Hanyang couldn’t keep up the act anymore and gave her a resounding slap, abruptly ending the marriage.

“Dad, those were your words. You promised you wouldn’t skimp on my educational expenses.”

Shi Yunya stood nearby with her arms crossed, neither telling me to calm down nor persuading Yu Hanyang.

My dislike for her suddenly became concrete.

When Yang Chun dated men, she ran into married men who were cheating. She endured plenty of humiliation and beatings from being labeled the “mistress,” so much so that for a long time in my childhood, I believed that women being deceived by various men was an inescapable catastrophe in life.

After she broke up with them, she would cry to my grandmother and me about how badly she had been conned. I grew to further despise the “main wives” who hit women and the invisible men behind them.

Of course, I hated the latter more, so I had always subconsciously assumed Shi Yunya was the one who was “kept in the dark,” along with a slight, hidden admiration for the upper-class—after all, she was so smart and capable, she wouldn’t willingly be the other woman if she knew.

People only change their minds when the knife falls on their own head. I sensed Shi Yunya’s protection of Yu Hanyang, and a chill went down my spine.

“You spend a lot on my sister.” I almost rolled my eyes at him.

“The money for your sister’s classes is paid by your… Auntie Shi. I don’t manage that,” he spoke, immediately realizing the flaw in his statement, as I didn’t have a mother.

I turned my head to look at Shi Yunya. Her expression remained the same unperturbed look it had from the start. Even if I were to lash out at her the next second, I suspected she would just calmly shift the blame to Yu Hanyang.

“Alright, I never said I wouldn’t give it to you. Just study hard and bring back an award,” Yu Hanyang forcefully patted his head and scratched his scalp. “I don’t have cash on me right now. I’ll get you a card tomorrow and transfer the money to it, okay?”

The matter was finally resolved with a hasty answer. I forced myself to calm down and work on my problems, trying not to think about the subsequent chain of possible events, X, Y, and Z.

The door to my room was ajar. Yu Zhouwan pushed it open and walked straight in when she got home. I wasn’t surprised at all.

The lights were off outside, but a sliver of light came from the study, and the bedroom was pitch black. This family certainly had their own separate routines, I thought to myself.

Yu Zhouwan picked up the notebook I had left on the bed and flipped through it casually. A test paper covered in red correction marks fell out.

She glanced at the score, scanned the reading comprehension sections that were full of mistakes, and closed the book, handing it back to me. Although her expression didn’t change, I caught a fleeting look of disdain and contempt.

I twitched my lips. Why were both the mother and daughter like this, liking to touch other people’s belongings without asking?

“Have you finished memorizing the 3,500 words?” she asked me.

“Why?” I glanced scornfully at the almost brand-new vocabulary book, adopting a lackadaisical attitude as if I couldn’t care less about the test-oriented education. “No rush. We’ll worry about that after the classes are streamed. The teachers will arrange standardized memorization and dictation.”

“Review it early, and then you won’t have to be pushed around by other people’s schedules later.”

She said it so easily, as if memorizing a book that was three fingers thick was as simple as eating.

“Did you finish high school English before you even started high school?”

“I don’t need to memorize this kind of thing.” Yu Zhouwan actually seriously flipped through the book. “I focused more on oral English. My written skills are actually quite average. Otherwise, Mom wouldn’t have to keep having me find teachers to help revise my personal statement and application letter.”

“Here,” she pointed to my notes. “You misspelled a word.”

I turned around and leaned back in my chair with one leg crossed over the other. Thinking about Shi Yunya’s willingness to spend money on her daughter without batting an eye, I secretly sighed. A wave of bitterness churned inside me. I intentionally bit her lips hard when I kissed her.

“I’m tired. Don’t cause trouble,” Yu Zhouwan pushed me away. “I still have to go back and review the interview procedures.”