Chapter 3 — Stay Thanks for Red Book

“Yes, later.” Her eyes were still staring at the TV, her hand continued to reach into her pocket. I turned down the stove heat, went over, took out the tray, and placed it in front of her. She glanced but didn't move. "Dao Dao." "I know, I know..." She grabbed the tray and threw it aside, muttering something in her mouth. I couldn't hear clearly, but looking at her lips I knew she was saying "it's so annoying". The chopsticks in my hand stopped. I didn't say anything, went back to the kitchen to continue cooking noodles. The water in the pot is boiling, the heat blows on the face, making people feel a bit stuffy. Looking at the constantly rolling water, an image suddenly appeared in my mind. Many years ago, at that time I was probably the same age as To Dao is now, and had just started working not long ago. I saved three months' salary to buy my mother a cashmere sweater. Mom took it, turned it over and said: "The one your sister bought for me is softer than this one." After that, she stuffed the shirt to the bottom of the closet and never took it out to wear again. That night, I didn't say anything. I just went back to my room and sat for half an hour, then came out again, whatever I had to do, I continued doing it. There are emotions that are used to being swallowed down. The phone in the apron pocket vibrated. My close friend Chau Man sent a text message. "Is your niece here?" "How's living together?" I sent back an emoticon, a picture of an expressionless cat looking at the screen. Chau Man immediately responded. "Ha ha, bear with it." I turned off the phone, took out the noodles, and divided them into two bowls. One bowl placed on the dining table, one bowl placed on the stove. I stood right in the kitchen, quietly finishing my bowl of noodles under the hood. To Dao will stay at my house throughout the internship, a total of two months. When To Tu Lan called to say "only staying for two months", her tone was like an announcement, not a negotiation. Then I hesitated for three seconds and then said: "Okay." Just those three seconds of hesitation were enough to make me regret it. The next day is Saturday. Early in the morning I went to the bank to settle some matters. When I returned, I discovered that the door to the spare bedroom was open and there was no one inside. The door at the end of the hallway was also open. That's the master bedroom door. My steps stopped. To Dao's voice echoed from the main bedroom, as if on a video call with someone. "That's right, this is my aunt's bedroom." "Let me see, the wardrobe, the dressing table, the balcony..." "Oh, this balcony is quite nice, I can sit here and drink coffee at night." "Only the bed sheets are a bit rustic, when I get back I'll ask my mother to change me to another set." Then a clear laugh rang out. "She goes to work during the day, she's not at home." "I'm not at home." What's wrong with staying for a little while?" "I told you, can she still kick me out?" I leaned against the hallway wall, my arms crossed over my chest. The wall is very cold. Cold air seeped through my shoulder blades. I didn't speak, stood and listened to her hang up the phone, then slowly walked in. To Dao is sitting on my bed. My bed, the linen sheet I just spread, the thin summer blanket I folded, were all wrinkled by her sitting on them. One of her hands was on the mattress, the other was pulling the drawer of my dressing table. In the drawer there is an old album. She casually pulled it out and flipped through a few pages. "Auntie..." Seeing me, the surprise on her face only lasted a second, then she smiled and raised the album in her hand. "You were really skinny when you were young." "Is this you?" "The person standing next to me is..." "This is your room." My voice was not loud, but every word was said very clearly. To Dao's smile stiffened. "I just want to see photos of you when you were young..." "To Dao, before entering the room you must knock on the door." "This is your room." I walked over, took the album out of her hand, put it back in the drawer and closed it. My movements weren't quick, but I didn't hesitate. To Dao is still sitting

on the bed, looking up at me. She was in her early twenties, had beautiful skin, bright eyes, but her eyes held a certain emotion. Not guilty, but impatient. It was impatience with the meaning of "Is it necessary to overdo it?" "Auntie, you're too rigid." "I'm just looking at the album for a little bit, I'm not making a mess." "Get up from the bed." "What?" "I haven't showered yet, the jacket is for going out." "Your bed sheet was just changed yesterday." To Dao's face finally darkened. The child slowly stood up. Her height is almost the same as mine, but her aura is less than half that. Perhaps the child herself also felt that. She looked at me, her eyes as if she were looking at an old-fashioned, inflexible old person. "Okay, you're very good." She threw back three words and pushed past me. Her shoulder rubbed against my arm. The sound of a girl calling was heard in the hallway, the volume was neither loud nor soft, just enough for me to hear. "Mom, I'm telling you, you really can't speak." I stood alone in the master bedroom, looked at the wrinkled bed sheet and the slightly open dressing table drawer, took a deep breath and then another.