7:10 a.m. — The Shor Family Restaurant
The atmosphere at the breakfast table was subtly tense.
Shor Leow Shan sipped his porridge carefully, his eyes flicking now and then toward his parents. The business card from the athletics club sat in his trouser pocket, warmed by the sweat in his palm.
"Dad, Mom…"
He finally gathered his courage. "I have something to tell you."
Everyone looked up. Lim Zhi Yan and Shor Yew Ming exchanged a glance — they had probably already guessed.
"Our school's PE teacher said an athletics coach noticed me."
Leow Shan placed the card on the table. "Coach Wang said… said I have potential, and he wants me to attend a trial training session on the weekend."
The card looked unusually formal under the morning light. Shor Xin Lin reached out curiously, only to be gently stopped by Shor Xin Xing.
Shor Yew Ming picked up the card and examined it.
"The City Youth Athletics Club… I know this one. It's legitimate. Did the coach mention any requirements?"
"He said it's just a trial at first. If it works out…"
Leow Shan's voice grew quieter. "There might be training fees."
That was the real issue.
Lim Zhi Yan asked softly, "How much are the fees?"
"I… I didn't ask."
Leow Shan lowered his head. "But I checked their website. The beginner class is about RM300 to RM500 per month."
The table fell silent for a few seconds.
RM300–500 was not a small amount for the Shor family.
Shor Yew Ming looked at his son.
"Do you want to go?"
Leow Shan took a deep breath and met his father's gaze.
"Yes. I really want to try."
It was a rare moment of firmness from the eleven-year-old. Beside him, Shor Leow Ting quietly gave his younger brother a thumbs-up.
"We need some time to think about it," Shor Yew Ming finally said.
"This involves money, scheduling, and whether training might affect your studies. Give us a few days, alright?"
"…Okay."
Leow Shan nodded, disappointment flickering across his face. He had expected an immediate refusal.
Lim Zhi Yan gently patted his head.
"Eat first. Don't let it get cold."
9:00 a.m. — Minjie Technology Sdn. Bhd.
Shor Yew Ming's phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen, his heartbeat quickening.
A message from a headhunter:
"Mr. Shor, TechNova is very interested in your résumé and would like to schedule a first-round video interview next Friday at 2:00 p.m. Would that be convenient?"
Next Friday.
He flipped through his calendar quickly.
That was the day of the school sports meet.
Leow Shan was running in the relay race.
He replied:
"Is it possible to reschedule? I have a family matter that afternoon."
A few minutes later, the response arrived:
"Sorry, the interviewer's schedule is fixed. This is the only available time slot."
Shor Yew Ming stared at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
TechNova was a well-known multinational company. The salary would be at least 30% higher than his current job. If he succeeded, the family's financial pressure would ease significantly.
But Leow Shan's sports meet…
"Brother Shor, what are you spacing out about?"
Xiao Chen walked over carrying a cardboard box — his last day at the company.
"Nothing."
Shor Yew Ming locked his phone. "All packed?"
"Yeah."
Xiao Chen forced a smile. "My wife said we'll move back to her parents' place for now, save some money. Oh — thanks for introducing that headhunter. I went for an interview yesterday. Didn't pass, but at least I got some experience."
Watching Xiao Chen walk away with the box, Shor Yew Ming felt a sharp sense of urgency.
If he didn't take action, the next one carrying a box might be him.
He unlocked his phone and typed:
"I confirm the interview next Friday at 2:00 p.m. Please send me the meeting link."
When he hit send, one stone in his heart fell — but another rose in its place.
12:30 p.m. — Tiandi Secondary School Library
Shor Xin Xing hid in the farthest corner of the library, practicing her recitation in selfie mode.
She could already recite Nostalgia perfectly, but her movements were still stiff.
"No… my hands are too deliberate…"
She muttered and started again.
"Shor Xin Xing?"
A gentle male voice startled her. Her phone nearly slipped from her hands.
It was Mr. Zhou, the librarian — a retired teacher rehired by the school. He wore thick glasses and was rumored to have once coached the drama club.
"H-hello, Mr. Zhou."
"Practicing recitation?"
He sat across from her. "The preliminary round is next month, right?"
"…Yes."
Her face flushed. "I'm not very good."
"I heard the last part you did."
Mr. Zhou adjusted his glasses. "Your emotions are on point, but you're too tense. Do you know what's most important on stage?"
She shook her head.
"Forgetting that you're performing."
He smiled. "You're too focused on whether your gestures are right or your posture looks good, and you forget the most important thing — conveying the emotion of the poem."
"But… how do you forget you're performing?"
"Imagine you're telling a story to one person, not a crowd."
He stood up. "If you'd like, you can come find me here during lunch every day. I can teach you some simple techniques."
"Really?"
Her eyes lit up.
"Of course. I like students with passion."
He smiled. "Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow! Thank you, sir!"
As she watched him walk away, warmth spread through her chest.
She opened her recording app again, this time imagining she was telling a story to Xin Lin — the little girl who always listened with wide eyes.
"When I was young, nostalgia was a tiny postage stamp…"
Her voice was gentler now. Less tense.
3:00 p.m. — The Shor Family Study
Lim Zhi Yan stared at the English text on her screen, brows furrowed.
"Cognitive development in early childhood…"
She murmured. "How should I translate this accurately?"
The translation work was harder than she had expected. Though her English had been good in university, more than a decade of neglect had dulled it. She had been stuck on this paragraph for half an hour.
Her phone rang. Xiuzhen.
"Zhi Yan, how's the translation going?"
"Not very well…"
She sighed. "So many technical terms. Even the dictionary isn't helping much."
"Want some help? My husband's a psychology lecturer — he might understand."
"Wouldn't that be too troublesome?"
"Not at all. Send me the difficult sentences. Oh — have you heard? The community center is opening a free English class. It's for housewives, twice a week. The teacher's a retired university professor."
Lim Zhi Yan's heart stirred.
"Really?"
"Starts next Monday. Want to go together? There's childcare."
After hanging up, Lim Zhi Yan looked at the dense English text again — and made a decision.
She needed to relearn.
Not just for this part-time job, but for herself.
She had once been top ten in her English department. She didn't want to forget that woman.