Heart Flutter

Chapter 36

“Tuan Tuan, why are you not at school? Have you finished your homework?” The elderly woman held on to Tang Yan’s hand and spoke to her gently.

Tang Yan glanced over at Aunt Ji for help, uncertain about what to do. But Aunt Ji only gave a slight smile and shook her head, signaling Tang Yan not to protest and instead go along with the old woman.

Understanding immediately, Tang Yan turned back and said, “I–I finished my homework. It was a day off today, so I did not have to go to school.”

“Oh, a day off, is it? Then let me make your favorite sugar cakes,” the elderly woman said, about to lift the blanket and get out of bed.

Realizing this could be dangerous, Ji Yuqing hurried forward to stop her. “Mom, you have an injury on your leg. You should not get up.”

Looking confused, the elderly woman turned and asked, “Who are you? Why are you calling me ‘Mom’ so casually? I have only one daughter, and her name is Tuan Tuan.”

In that moment, Tang Yan caught a glimpse of the disappointment and sadness on Aunt Ji’s face. How heartbreaking it must have been not to be recognized by her own mother.

Just then, Nurse Qin stepped in to help. She gently guided the old woman back into bed and chatted with her, changing the subject to distract her. Another caretaker immediately addressed them, “The doctor said that we should avoid upsetting her. Here’s a menu for lunch. Cooking for her yourself is a way to show filial piety.”

Taking it, Ji Yuqing nodded and said, “Thank you for looking after my mom like this.”

“Not at all. We feel sorry for her condition.”

“Yan Yan, let’s go to the kitchen,” said Ji Yuqing. “You can help me out.”

“Sure!” Tang Yan agreed enthusiastically. She was glad to do anything that could help Aunt Ji.

Besides the professional chefs hired by the nursing home, family members were allowed to prepare meals themselves as a gesture of care. Upon entering, Tang Yan was astonished by how large the kitchen was; it seemed big enough to accommodate dozens of people, comparable to what she imagined a five-star hotel kitchen would look like—though she had never actually seen one.

Here, in the kitchen, it was clearly Aunt Ji’s domain. She expertly handled the knife with a steady hand, while Tang Yan simply needed to follow instructions and do her best as a helpful assistant.

Since they were cooking nutritional meals for the elderly, they had to be very careful and precise with the seasonings. Eager to learn, Tang Yan watched closely. She seldom saw Aunt Ji so focused on anything except for her work; cooking must be one of the few other tasks she took so seriously.

“All done,” said Ji Yuqing as she turned off the stove. The dishes on the countertop were plated beautifully and looked incredibly appetizing.

“Wow, you are amazing, Aunt Ji,” Tang Yan blurted, unable to hold back her praise.

Smiling softly, Ji Yuqing used a paper towel to wipe a bit of oil from the rim of the plate. “It is nothing special. One day, when you have someone you truly love, you will cook like this, too.”

That person she loved most… It was her mother, of course. Although she often called her mother a pitiful and sad figure, she was still her mother, the most important person in her life.

Noticing Tang Yan standing there in a daze, Ji Yuqing picked up the plates. “Come on, let’s go.”

They brought lunch to the ward. The old woman ate happily, apparently enjoying the familiar taste. “My mom used to teach me to cook,” said Ji Yuqing. “I always make dishes the way she likes them.”

Tang Yan nodded. “I see.”

Because Tang Yan cared about all things related to Aunt Ji, she was very attentive and patient with the elderly woman. She poured water and helped in various small ways. Once the old lady finished lunch, Tang Yan glanced around and realized that Aunt Ji was nowhere to be found. She asked a couple of the nurses, but none of them had seen her—apparently she had gone outside.

Feeling a wave of worry, Tang Yan hurried out to search for her. She went through the entire inpatient building but could not find her anywhere. Growing increasingly anxious, she returned to the apartment building. The door to the apartment was left ajar, so Aunt Ji must have come back here. Tang Yan felt a jolt of relief and rushed inside.

She checked every room, but still there was no sign of Aunt Ji. Confused, she went back to the bedroom they had shared the previous night. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she tried to calm herself. Only then did she hear faint noises coming from the bathroom—quiet, scattered sounds that seemed like… sobbing. Getting up carefully, Tang Yan pressed her ear to the bathroom door. Yes, it was a soft, muffled crying sound coming from inside.

After listening for a bit longer, she was sure it was indeed Aunt Ji. Her heart felt as though it were being squeezed. So this was what she had been holding back. Always poised, always calm in public, never letting anyone see her vulnerability. How many times, Tang Yan wondered, had she wept alone like this?

Feeling deep pity at the thought of all the hardship and sorrow Aunt Ji had endured, Tang Yan could not help but ache for her, as though every beat of her heart brought another wave of pain. She remained outside for a while until she heard running water inside. Then she jumped up hastily and slipped out of the room, as if fleeing.

When Ji Yuqing finally emerged, she spotted Tang Yan standing in the living room and paused in surprise. “Yan Yan, why are you here?”

Looking her over, Tang Yan saw that she had clearly reapplied her makeup to cover the signs of crying, but her eyes were still red, a telltale sign of tears.

“I… I was worried when I did not see you,” Tang Yan said awkwardly, uncertain what else to say.

Pressing her lips together, Ji Yuqing said, “Let’s head home this afternoon.”

“Huh?” Tang Yan was puzzled.

Forcing a small smile, Ji Yuqing kept her gaze lowered to hide her face. “I do not like staying here too long. The old folks get annoyed with me, and it starts bothering me, too.”

“All right. Do we need to inform the staff before we leave?” Tang Yan asked.

“Of course.”

After packing up the clothes they had changed out of the previous night, they returned to the inpatient ward to say goodbye. The caretakers tried to persuade them to stay longer, but Ji Yuqing was firm in her decision. “I will come back to see her again after a while, once she recovers a bit more,” she said.

With that, none of them pressed the issue any further. Tang Yan did not mind at all. She wanted only to follow Aunt Ji wherever she went.

The two of them left the inpatient building under a gentle afternoon sun. In the courtyard, several elderly residents in white outfits were practicing tai chi. A group of older women strolled by, chattering animatedly about the latest gossip around the nursing home. When she glanced at them, a hint of longing flickered across Ji Yuqing’s eyes. Tang Yan guessed that her greatest wish was for her mother to recover quickly—so that, one day soon, she might also walk about and enjoy the warm sunshine on a beautiful afternoon.

Tang Yan had only learned the night before that “Ji” was not actually Aunt Ji’s original surname. She did not reveal what her birth name was, only mentioning that when she turned eighteen and left home, she took her mother’s surname instead. Having explained her reasons to the police, they had not given her any trouble. Apparently, her father had flown into a rage at home when he found out, but she did not care. On the contrary, she had been delighted, feeling at last that she had escaped the stifling home that made life miserable for both her and her mother. From that point on, she devoted herself to studying hard and earning enough money to one day free her mother from that prison. In time, she actually succeeded.

It was clear from her actions that Aunt Ji was no ordinary woman. She had dared to resist, to defend her own dignity and rights. Tang Yan found her incredibly courageous and admirable.

After all, Tang Yan herself also carried her mother’s surname, Tang, though she had no idea if she could ever become as independent and strong as Aunt Ji was. No—she wanted to be even stronger, so she could protect her. So that she would never again be hurt.

They drove along a wide road, soft music playing in the car. Tang Yan propped her chin on her hand and gazed out the window, her mind wandering.

Once they had left that remote, tranquil nursing home behind, there was a marked change in Aunt Ji’s demeanor—she seemed more relaxed and cheerful, as though a weight had been lifted.

“What would you like for dinner?” she asked with an easy laugh.

Tang Yan laughed as well. “Whatever we have at home will do.”

With a teasing smile, Ji Yuqing quipped, “You’re that easy to feed, huh? You have to be careful, or you could get tricked by some man.”

“That will never happen,” Tang Yan replied firmly.

[2019.10.5, The weather is fine.

So many things have happened lately, and I have not had a chance to write them all down. Last night, I went back to Huadu with Aunt Ji and visited the nursing home by Jiutian Mountain to see her mother. From everything that happened in these two days, I have realized that though she seems strong on the outside, she can also be vulnerable deep down. She hides her emotions so well that other people barely sense what she feels inside. I cannot help but ache for her, seeing her like this.

I can still clearly recall how her hands trembled when she signed the surgery consent form; the slender figure standing alone by the window in the cold breeze; and how she sobbed quietly by herself in the bathroom today. And all I could do was hover outside, listening in and silently accompanying her.

She was on her own from the age of eighteen, taking on all her university expenses alone. I do not know how many hardships she must have faced during that time. For over ten years, she has been carrying all that weight. It hurts me deeply—truly, deeply.

If my only goal before was to escape my village and change my destiny, now there is an additional goal in my life: I want to grow strong, become capable, and protect her. I want to be someone she can lean on. I know I can do it.]