Simon opened the video projection. Today was Dragon Boat Festival, and normally his parents would have a holiday, but neither of them answered his video call.
He paced his bedroom, arms crossed, head down, glancing at the projector from time to time. The light was still red. This was his third call. Could it be that no one was answering again?
Simon sat down at the foot of his bed, feeling incredibly restless. His parents never argued; if they were truly fighting, something serious must have happened.
"There's nothing in the world that can't be solved," Simon murmured to himself, "nothing that can't be solved, except for people's hearts."
What he feared most was the breakdown of his parents' relationship. Perhaps this was it. He was intimately familiar with his family members' personalities, a familiarity like adapting to furniture. A home isn't just filled with physical objects, but also intangible things like emotions.
The love of parents and family, like the floor, is often walked upon, and no one pays it any mind, simply because without it, the very foundation of the family would cease to exist.
The care between siblings is like a specimen on the wall, catching the eye and making one think the host has excellent taste.
But the love between parents is like a porcelain vase on the coffee table, visible as soon as one enters the door. Occasionally, it might be wiped clean, but most of the time, it's simply left there to gather dust.
Now, Simon had a strong premonition. That smooth, full porcelain vase he had always admired, that self-disciplined and restrained white porcelain, as indifferent as the sky and mist reflected in a still lake—could it also be unable to withstand life's trials and tribulations, and be about to crack?
If so, what would become of his future life?
He could be self-reliant, but what about his two younger sisters? Who would they follow?
If both parents were deemed unfit to raise children by the court, then the three siblings would have to go to an orphanage.
Orphanages were good; modern orphanages were not dark and cruel. Life was worry-free, and robots would not do anything to harm citizens. Minors like them could even receive a monthly government subsidy, enough for normal expenses.
But how could Simon accept such an outcome?
The projector's red light turned green, and Sun Hui's image appeared on the bedroom floor. She smiled in surprise, "Why are you calling me? Did something happen at school?"
His mother showed no signs of abnormality, like an empty-nester parent unexpectedly receiving a call from her son, her joy just right.
Simon was soothed by Sun Hui's expression. He felt it was just a false alarm. "Did you two argue yesterday?"
Sun Hui let out a sigh, "It's nothing. Your father is too clumsy; he spilled his foot-washing water on himself, so I scolded him a bit."
Simon smiled with relief, "That's good. I thought you two were going to get a divorce."
Sun Hui clutched her stomach and laughed uproariously, "Silly big son, what are you thinking? Don't say such things carelessly in the future."
The mother and son happily chatted about some everyday matters. Simon turned off the projector, relieved, and went to class.
On the other side, Sun Hui looked at the expression simulation function on the projector's display screen. This was a program for seamlessly modifying the projected facial expressions.
She had chosen 'joyful,' so the displayed effect was a joyful Sun Hui.
When the video ended and the lights went out, Sun Hui sat in the dim projection room. On the west wall to her left, the curtains were drawn, but the bright sunlight outside still seeped through, illuminating half of the woman's gentle body. A warm smile still lingered on her face, the corners of her lips curving upwards, guiding the ceaseless tears into her mouth, truly bitter and salty.
Su Xiangli sent Simon another email. With the afternoon self-study session about to begin and his phone soon to become a brick, Simon ran towards the classroom while also replying to Su Xiangli.
12:15 "Su Xiangli: Why aren't you in class yet?"
12:15 "Simon: I'll be there right away."
The day's classes ended, and it was already eight o'clock after evening self-study. Students could choose to continue studying in the self-study room or return to their dorms to rest; in this regard, it was quite humane. Simon and Su Xiangli strolled through the campus.
Simon said, "While I was waiting for you at noon today, it suddenly occurred to me that we've never really had a chance to properly explore this school."
"Did you receive any gifts today?"
"No."
"Why?" Su Xiangli felt both happy and sad. Was she the only one who remembered the boy's birthday? And did his birthday belong only to her?
"You know I've never celebrated my birthday since I was little, and neither have you. We're used to it. People who aren't close don't even know it's my birthday today."
When birthdays were mentioned, Simon thought of the 'mother's suffering day'—ten months of pregnancy, one morning of childbirth, an experience difficult to describe. He actually still had impressions of his birth scene, after all, he had been conscious since the womb.
This memory wasn't vivid, and there were some imagined elements. At the time, he just felt like ground pork stuffed into a sausage casing, not suffocated, but very squeezed. His mother, Sun Hui, cried out incessantly. Simon had mostly forgotten what she specifically shouted, but the only thing he remembered was his mother loudly calling Lu Jiande's name.
His mother and father had such a good relationship, how could they possibly have an argument? Simon felt a bit resentful towards his second sister. He had thought she was steady and wouldn't play pranks to trick him, but now it seemed like she was just a little kid making a big fuss.
Su Xiangli's eyes darted around, "I still need to go back to my dorm."
Simon was greatly surprised, "What? Is your aunt visiting again?"
Su Xiangli was furious, "Can you please watch your words! You're too blunt! Block D."
Simon tried to look wronged but failed, bursting into laughter, "I knew you were lying to me at noon today. And you're lying to me now, aren't you?"
The young girl was shocked but had to maintain her composure, "No way, how could I possibly lie to you! Ha, haha…"
They say beautiful women are good at lying. Looking at Su Xiangli, Simon found it quite amusing. She was still a bit too green; she couldn't even lie convincingly.
"I know your date," Simon whispered softly, scaring Su Xiangli so much that her face instantly turned pale.
"Wow, are you a pervert?!" The young girl retreated a few steps in alarm, hugging her poor self and trembling.
Simon was speechless, "Excuse me, classmate, could your drama be a little less, like your money?"
Su Xiangli said aggrievedly, "But I'm a rich woman."
"Wow, so dazzling, who's glowing?! Ah, it's Su Xiangli, classmate! Oh my, rich women are truly wonderful! Do you need a leg accessory? Your humble servant can bring you tea and water." The boy was grinning, making the girl giggle non-stop.
"Hey, I'm serious, come back to the dorm with me."
Half an hour later, Simon, holding a red bean smoothie, followed behind Su Xiangli, watching the girl stride along the asphalt road of the campus at night. She hummed a cheerful song, and the tall streetlights in the distance elongated their shadows, merging them together, indistinguishable.
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