Chapter 8 — Cut Out of the Will

Until she was weeping so violently she could no longer catch her breath, I finally parted my lips.

It is too late.

The moment those two words left my mouth, I severed the call. My mother did not attempt to dial back. The world fell back into a profound, restorative stillness. I hoisted my belongings and carried them into my new sanctuary. The apartment was entirely bare. Aside from the permanent fixtures installed by the developer, there was nothing within these walls. Yet it was impeccably clean, flooded with a pure, unobstructed light. I set my bags down upon the floor. In bare feet, I stepped onto the cool hardwood, pacing slowly from room to room. The living room, the bedroom, the study, the kitchen. There was no heavy, dark mahogany round table here. No boisterous clamor of voices. No calculating, avaricious gazes. Nor was there the suffocating, heavy silence that had once crushed the air from my lungs. Here, there was only myself. And the warm autumn sunlight streaming through the window, belonging entirely to me. I took a seat upon the wide windowsill of the living room, pouring myself a glass of clean water. Then, I drafted and sent a final message to Lawyer Zhang.

Lawyer Zhang, we are altering the strategy.

The lawsuit concerning the abandonment of an elderly person is temporarily put on hold.

The defamation suit will proceed as planned.

The petition to declare the real estate gift null and void shall likewise continue.

In addition, I require you to execute one more task.

In my name, anonymously transfer two hundred thousand to the hospital as a designated medical fund for my grandmother.

Emphasize explicitly that this sum is not a gift, but a formal loan.

The registered borrowers shall be the four legal heirs of Lady Tu Lan—none other than my four maternal uncles.

They are required to sign promissory notes and simultaneously pledge the gifted property as collateral.

If they refuse to sign, they shall not receive a single coin.

Should they affix their signatures, these funds are strictly earmarked for the medical treatment of Lady Tu Lan alone.

The transfer is strictly for this designated purpose, monitored jointly by the hospital and legal counsel.

As for the matter of her long-term care following her discharge, her four households must negotiate the terms among themselves.

If they fail to reach an accord, let the matter proceed through the proper legal channels.

From this day onward, her aging, infirmity, and ultimate demise bear no relation to me whatsoever.

The message was sent. Lawyer Zhang replied almost instantaneously.

Miss Chu, I understand.

This is the most rational approach, yet also the most ruthless one available to us.

Allow them to live, and allow them to shoulder the debts.

Allow them to spend the remainder of their days passing the blame and tearing at one another in endless disputes.

That is far more agonizing for them than merely sitting inside a prison cell.

I stared at his words, offering no further reply. I opened the contacts list on my new phone. There was only a single number stored within—that of Lawyer Zhang. After a moment of quiet reflection, I added a second entry: the number of the real estate broker. I sent him a brief message.

That three-bedroom flat on the west side of the city—do not sell it for now.

The broker responded immediately: Understood, Miss Chu! Please feel free to issue new instructions at any time! I powered off the device. Leaning against the window frame, I gazed out at the distant horizon. The sun was slowly, inexorably sinking below the edge of the world, dyeing the firmament in brilliant, blazing shades of orange and crimson. I had no way of knowing whether my parents had packed up and left their old lives behind. Nor could I predict what awaited them in the days to come. Yet I knew one thing with absolute certainty: I had granted them a choice. A choice to continue playing the role of Chu Niran’s parents, living securely within a property I provided, rather than descending into disgraced outcasts of the Li lineage with nowhere left to turn. How they chose to navigate that path was entirely their own affair. My existence would no longer be bound or crippled by the choices they made. I pulled out the newly purchased bedsheets and duvet cover from my shopping bags, setting about the task of making up my bed. I left the telephone resting undisturbed in the living room, refusing to glance at it again. I knew that from this night onward, the outside world would ring with endless debates concerning my cold-bloodedness, my chilling rationality, and my absolute resolve. But none of those things touched me any longer. The world beyond the threshold belonged to them. The world within these walls belonged to me. I smoothed the pillows into place and lay down. The cushions were soft, remarkably comfortable. I closed my eyes. In the quiet theater of my mind, there were no longer the piercing, venomous curses of my grandmother. No longer the scheming faces of my cousins, nor the manipulative tears of my mother. There was only a vast, tranquil expanse of white. Everything was ready to begin anew. I, Chu Niran, thirty years of age. Without family, without a burdensome past. Only myself, and a home purchased entirely with my own labor. That was more than enough. I drifted off to sleep, descending into a profound, dreamless slumber. Beyond the window, the night deepened, and the city burst into a constellation of dazzling lights, shining as brightly as day. Yet all of this was merely the beginning. My true fresh start.