Daydreaming about Me

Chapter 91

Since the start of the semester, Lin Yujing hadn’t had much contact with Lin Zhi.

They had exchanged a few phone calls, but conversations had become increasingly awkward and short. Lin Zhi seemed to sense the tension too, and eventually stopped calling, though she still sent money every month.

The phone rang for half a minute, but Lin Yujing didn’t answer. Finally, the call disconnected.

People trickled out of the exam hall, marking the end of the last day of finals, and the official start of winter break. Occasionally, students eager to head home passed by, dragging huge suitcases.

For some reason, Lin Yujing suddenly thought about Shen Juan. He hadn’t changed. His rare displays of gentle sensitivity—completely at odds with his typical persona—always caught her off guard, no matter how many times it happened, making her feel like she could drown in it.

She slipped her phone into her pocket and, with a solemn expression, looked up at him. “Shen Juan, thank you.”

Her tone was so formal it seemed like she might bow to him at a ninety-degree angle.

She even used his full name.

Shen Juan raised an eyebrow.

Lin Yujing looked up and continued, “I really don’t feel like doing my winter break homework. Could you do it for me?”

“…”

Shen Juan thought this girl still needed some proper discipline.

“You can’t do that,” Lin Yujing chuckled as she walked forward. “It’s not the same. After all, she’s my mom. I can’t just stop talking to her forever and have you handle everything like my manager, right? Boyfriend, no matter what happens, I’m willing to tell you everything.”

She paused and added, “But it still has to be me doing it. Don’t underestimate me. Teacher Lin is capable of anything.”

Shen Juan didn’t say a word.

Lin Yujing hadn’t said everything, but her message was clear.

I’m willing to rely on you now, but I won’t be dependent on you.

Shen Juan’s lips curled into a slow smile, and finally, he couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle.

She was always changing, yet she seemed to remain the same.

When Lin Yujing returned to her dorm, she called Lin Zhi. It seemed like Lin Zhi was busy, as she didn’t answer.

With exams over, her roommates were packing up to go home. The two from out of town had already booked their tickets, and Gu Xia, as soon as she finished her last exam, practically flew out with her suitcase, but not before giving Lin Yujing a parting gift.

The packaging looked high-end, with soft ribbons crisscrossed over it. When she opened it, there was a black box inside with the large number “001” printed on it, and at the top, the word “OKAMOTO.”

There was also a rose-colored box with an ergonomic design and engraved romantic rose patterns.

“…”

And two boxes of it, no less.

Standing at the dorm entrance, Gu Xia threw her a kiss, “I wasn’t sure what size your top student boyfriend wears, so I bought the standard black. Happy winter break.”

“…”

Lin Yujing was almost numb to this kind of thing by now.

Size didn’t matter, nor did the rose or lily patterns on them. They were of no use anyway, as her top student boyfriend had high moral standards. He would probably wait until she was thirty and had confirmed it wouldn’t harm her health before even considering sleeping with her.

Shen Juan still had training that afternoon. With winter break starting, he was officially in a mode where he would practically live in the training room, except for the occasional bathroom break. They had spent a lot of time together, but Lin Yujing wasn’t one to cling to people, so she didn’t plan to keep him company and instead dragged her suitcase back to the apartment.

Around six in the evening, Lin Zhi called again.

Lin Yujing was curled up on the sofa watching a variety show. She had gone out earlier to buy a bunch of snacks, and now she was holding a chicken foot through its packaging, chewing on the collagen. It took her a moment to speak after answering the call.

Lin Zhi’s tone was the same as always, straightforward and calm: “I was busy this afternoon. Why didn’t you answer the phone at noon?”

Lin Yujing swallowed the chicken foot, her expression unchanged. “I hadn’t finished my exam.”

There was a brief silence on the other end, with faint background noises, including a distant honk. Lin Zhi was probably driving. “When are you coming home?”

Lin Yujing hesitated, not responding right away.

She felt indifferent about returning or not; celebrating the New Year just meant seeing her parents, nothing more.

After a moment of silence, Lin Zhi asked, “Don’t feel like coming back?”

“Before the New Year, I suppose,” Lin Yujing said nonchalantly. “Even if I come back now, I’d just be alone at home.”

It was Lin Zhi’s turn to fall silent, and she hung up without saying much else.

The variety show continued playing on TV. It was a marriage experience program featuring celebrity couples who had been married for over a decade, trying to rekindle their first love.

Lin Yujing liked watching these kinds of shows because they made her believe that true love still existed in the world.

She stared at the screen, her thoughts wandering.

When she was younger, all she wanted was Lin Zhi’s approval, so she would occasionally argue with Meng Weiguo but never dared to oppose Lin Zhi.

Whatever Lin Zhi said was what she did. Whatever Lin Zhi wanted her to do, she did it.

But after that phase of yearning for familial affection during adolescence had passed, Lin Yujing realized she didn’t really feel much of anything inside.

It wasn’t hard to get used to. In fact, it was easier to accept because she felt she had never truly had it in the first place.

Lin Qingzong once said that Lin Zhi had a tough life because she had never met someone who could guide her down the right path, and she had suffered a lot.

As her only daughter, Lin Qingzong still felt some pity for her and hoped that one day Lin Yujing would forgive Lin Zhi for the mistakes she made and the wrong paths she took.

Lin Yujing didn’t respond at the time.

Whether Lin Zhi needed it or not, she would support and take care of her in the future; it was her duty as a daughter.

But how could she forgive?

Lin Yujing was never the type to repay evil with kindness. Her life principle was simple: whoever treated her well, she would treat them a hundred times better. Whoever wronged her could go to hell.

Lin Zhi had taken the wrong path and gotten hurt—what did that have to do with her?

Before meeting Shen Juan, no one had told her which path was right or wrong. No one had guided her, no one had ever said, “Go ahead boldly; I’ll protect you.”

Who didn’t have to navigate their own path, step by step, feeling their way forward? Whose journey wasn’t filled with hardships, with deep valleys and steep ridges?

Whose wounds weren’t painful?

Why should she be the one to pay for Lin Zhi’s failed marriage and wrong choices?

A few days before New Year’s Eve, Lin Yujing booked a flight back to the capital.

Shen Juan took a day off to drive her to the airport. Ever since he found out she was leaving, he hadn’t been in a particularly good mood.

Lin Yujing tried to cheer him up for the first couple of days, but then gave up, deciding to let him sulk as much as he wanted.

She didn’t bring much, as she wasn’t planning to stay long. The same small suitcase had served her from high school through college for three years.

When she arrived home in the afternoon, she opened the door and saw Lin Zhi in the living room, on a phone call.

Lin Yujing paused.

She hadn’t expected Lin Zhi to actually be home.

It had been half a year since they’d last seen each other. One stood at the door, the other sat on the sofa with a laptop on her lap. They stared at each other for a few seconds, and neither spoke.

Sometimes, Lin Yujing found it ironic that two people connected by blood could be so distant.

A servant came to take her luggage, and Lin Yujing stepped inside to change her shoes. “Why are you home? Isn’t the company busy?”

Lin Zhi placed her phone on the coffee table. “I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.”

The day after tomorrow was just after New Year’s Eve.

Lin Yujing nodded and was about to head upstairs when Lin Zhi suddenly said coldly, “That boyfriend of yours is quite bold.”

Lin Yujing stopped in her tracks and turned around. “What?”

“That boy came to talk to me,” Lin Zhi glanced at her. “He didn’t mention it to you?”

What nonsense.

Lin Yujing’s nerves tightened, and she almost demanded, “What did you say to him?”

“What do you think? I told him I didn’t approve of your relationship, that nothing good would come of it. I’ve seen countless college romances, and how many actually last? Don’t they all break up after graduation? Even if they stay together, how many can actually be happy?” Lin Zhi looked down at her screen. “As long as it doesn’t affect your grades, I won’t oppose you dating. You can date someone you don’t like if you want. What I’m against is him—what

I’m against is you falling into this relationship.”

Lin Yujing found it ridiculous. “Am I crazy? Why would I date someone I don’t like?”

Lin Zhi raised her eyes, her gaze cold and steady. “You’re in love now. You think he can stay with you forever, that he can love you for a lifetime?” Her voice softened, “He won’t. It’s simply impossible.”

Lin Yujing understood. “You’re afraid because you’ve been burned once.”

“You’re still young. You don’t understand men,” Lin Zhi said. “Men are all about the thrill of the chase. When you’ve been together long enough, he’ll get bored.”

The last bit of Lin Yujing’s patience boiled over. She closed her eyes and, unable to hold back, snapped, “I think what you understand isn’t men, but animals. Even animals come in male and female.”

The room fell into a stunned silence.

Lin Zhi was speechless, staring at her in disbelief.

Lin Yujing pursed her lips, exhaled deeply, and looked at her calmly. “You can’t judge all relationships based on your failures. Just because you were unlucky doesn’t mean there’s no such thing as a good person in this world. Am I supposed to never get married?”

“Because that’s reality. You can have a marriage, but love is fragile,” Lin Zhi’s tone was cold and detached. “Think about it. You might feel you’re truly in love now, but what about in ten or twenty years? You might still love him, but you’ll have aged, while there will be plenty of pretty young girls around him. What makes you think he won’t change?”

Lin Yujing didn’t respond.

Lin Zhi, in a rare display of patience, said, “Xiaoyu, I’m trying to protect you. I’ve been through it, and I don’t want you to suffer the same.”

“There’s no such thing as protection like that. You just think you’re protecting me,” Lin Yujing cut her off. “You’re comforting yourself by saying you’re trying to prevent me from getting hurt. But really, it’s just to satisfy your need for control.”

“You believe you’re always right, that everything you say is true. I’ve listened to you my whole life, so you think I should follow your advice on this as well. But I didn’t. I resisted, and you can’t handle that. You need to convince me that you’re right.”

Lin Zhi didn’t reply, her gaze cold as she unconsciously touched the phone on the coffee table.

Suddenly, Lin Yujing felt a pang of sadness.

She thought her feelings toward Lin Zhi had long faded, but at this moment, she still felt a bit of sorrow—a suffocating bitterness that made her nose and eyes sting, welling up without warning.

It was overwhelming.

Lin Yujing lowered her gaze, her voice softening, “Mom, no one educates their children this way.”

“Other mothers would tell their kids, ‘Go ahead, if you get hurt, come back, and I’ll be here.’”

“I never expected you to say something like that, but at least—”

“At the very least, don’t always pull me back when I’m just starting to believe that maybe I’m worth being cherished. Don’t tell me no one will ever love me.”

Lin Zhi paused. “I didn’t mean—”

“You don’t love me, you don’t want me, and you keep telling me no one else will ever love me either.”

Lin Yujing stared at the floor, trying hard to keep her eyes open as she pressed a hand to the corner of her eye, speaking softly, “How can you do this to me? You can’t treat me like this.”

Lin Zhi froze.

A thousand kilometers away in City A, Shen Juan held his phone, standing by the window, listening to the girl’s voice through the phone, each word faint but clear.

In the end, it was filled with grievance, a barely perceptible sob she tried to hold back: “I just want to believe, for once, that I’m not that worthless… that I actually deserve to be loved…”

-Chapter End-