Chapter 38: The Phone (Part 2)

After completing the discharge procedures that day, we returned to the mansion.

Stepping out of the car, I scurried ahead, leaving the maid and the wolf behind, retreating to my room.
I grabbed a basketball, dribbling it loudly against the floor.

Five minutes later, the maid called from outside: “Zhixia, open the door for me.”

Letting the ball bounce on its own, I hurried to open it.
She stood there, arms full of gift boxes, with more piled on the ground.

She’d brought all eighteen gifts!

I pouted: “I don’t want them…”

Ignoring me, she smiled: “Move aside, I’m about to drop these!”

She looked far from dropping anything, but I stepped aside anyway.

The maid carried the assortment of gift boxes into the room, stacking them in a corner, then went back for the rest.

I glowered, but she smiled: “Opening gifts is so fun, especially that sense of mystery—you’ll get more excited with each one.”

I didn’t want the wolf’s gifts!

Before I could protest, she added: “When you’re feeling down, try opening one. I’m heading out soon—talk to the Young Master if you need anything.”

Waving, she left with a smile.

I huffed inwardly—I wouldn’t talk to him.

The gifts were in two stacks.
Bored, I arranged them from large to small into one neat pile, like a colorful Christmas tree, much tidier.

It was Saturday, and I desperately wanted to see Zeng Xin, so I decided to go to school on Monday—a perfect escape from the wolf, less oppressive than the mansion.

Basketball in hand, I went downstairs.
The wolf was nowhere in sight, likely in his room, and the maid had left.

Hiding in the mansion’s shadows, I crouched, hands low, then jumped, tossing the ball high.
It bounced impressively!

My mood lifted.
After ten minutes, realizing the wolf was upstairs and the living room empty, I thought—why not watch TV?

Hugging the ball, I returned inside.
Before entering, I heard melodic piano music from the second floor, smooth and flowing, surprisingly skilled.

A murderer could play the piano?

Thinking of Grandma, my heart ached.
I turned on the TV, cranking the volume to drown out his music.

Watching ads on the big screen, I wondered—if I shot a commercial, would I be on TV too?

Forget it—unreachable dreams.

…

In a villa neighborhood, inside a standalone house.

An old man stared at his phone, engrossed.

A young man unlocked the door, a bright smile spreading as he turned the handle: “Grandpa!”

“Hey,” the old man replied, still focused on his phone, recognizing his grandson’s voice—the new general manager who’d just inherited the family business.

“Nice weather today. You should get some sun,” the young man teased, knowing his grandfather was home, hence the visit.

The old man had early-stage liver cancer, his health declining.

“Meeting Old Li tonight,” the old man smiled. “What’d you bring?”

The young man carried imported supplements to his side, joking: “Got eyes in the back of your head?”

The old man chuckled, giving a knowing look.

Setting the supplements down, the young man glanced at a photo on the phone—an old man with a girl—and froze: “Grandpa! Where’d you meet this girl?”

“Heh, pretty, right? These days, faces are caked in makeup. Rarely see such a spirited girl. Couldn’t resist taking a photo with her.”

The young man, too eager to join the praise, pressed: “She’s the female lead our company picked!”

The old man blinked: “The one who vanished, passing up hundreds of thousands?”

“Normally, people would say something if they bailed. I dug around—she’s a beggar Disney found on the street! A beggar skipping out on that kind of money?”

The old man grew more confused, mulling over the words: “A beggar? Doesn’t look it…”

“Not important,” the young man cut him off. “Just tell me where you took the photo.”

“At the hospital I visited. She was a patient too. Didn’t get her name, just remember she said she’s eighteen. Who’s the current lead?”

The young man bolted out: “A stand-in.”

The old man tapped his mouth thoughtfully, watching his grandson’s haste.

Rushing outside, the young man didn’t even close the door, fumbling for his car keys, urgency plain.
Dropping them, he forced himself to calm, picked them up, and sped off in his convertible to the hospital.

…

Before the TV, I hugged the basketball like a pillow, watching a movie.
The maid was gone only half an hour.
Returning, she hid her hands behind her back, beaming at me.

Suspicious, I watched as she sat beside me, grinning: “Zhixia, I got you a gift.”

I blinked: “Don’t want it!”

Her face fell briefly, but she revealed a phone—spotless, new, in a clear soft case.

I froze.
Had she removed the box to avoid bad memories?

She gave a wry smile: “It’s not from the Young Master.”

She bought it herself?

I shook my head frantically: “Sis, return it!”

“Can’t—opened it already. I’ll leave it in your room.”
She smiled, tousled my hair, and left.

My emotions churned.
Then the wolf appeared, sitting silently on the sofa.
I fled.

On my way upstairs, I passed the maid.
She smiled: “Zhixia, a phone can enrich your life—relieve stress, chat with teachers or classmates, even tell me what you want for dinner so it’s ready when you’re home.”

Her words hit home.
I’d wanted a phone for years.
My nose stung: “But… it’s expensive.”

She shook her head, smiling: “Money’s just stuff. Spending it meaningfully—like making you happy—makes me happy too.”

She was easing my moderate depression, so I wouldn’t cry constantly or think of death.

Tears welled, and I clutched the jade pendant at my chest: “Sis, can I hug you?”

This time, I was moved, not sad—her thoughtfulness, from removing the box to her heartfelt words, showed she cared.

Lin Yinyin opened her arms, patting my back: “Need medicine? Shall I get it?”

Choking up, I said: “I’m touched… and happy. Thank you, Sis…”

To Grandma—I received the most precious gift of my life, the first besides all you gave me.

“Want anything, just say. I’ve got money to burn.”

I laughed through tears, saying I needed nothing.
She said softly: “Good girl.”

Lin Yinyin held me, and I closed my eyes, heart warm.

After a minute or two, I gently pushed away, or she’d never let go.

“Zhixia, any dishes you want for dinner?”

“Chili-fried pork?”

“Of course. Go play with the phone—I connected it to the internet.”

I smiled sweetly: “Thank you, Sis.”

As she went to work, I returned to my room, picking up the hefty phone.
A note listed its number.

Studying it, I heard an engine outside.
From the balcony, I saw Lin Yinyin leave.

Why was she out again?

Then it hit me—I checked the fridge.
Pork, but no chilies…

Did she go buy chilies just for me?

Tears welled again—she was too kind.

I hadn’t been to school in over a week.
I downloaded WeChat and QQ, wondering which Zeng Xin used.

I set both profiles to male—I’d always dreamed of a QQ account for online dating, meeting rich girls.

Now with the chance, I hesitated: date guys or girls?

That strange fruit changed my life—I still didn’t know what it was.

After mulling, I found handsome guy photos online, saved them, and set one as my QQ avatar, ready to date as a boy.

Online dating was risky—news of scams abounded, but I wouldn’t be fooled.

As a “meet-in-person-and-disappoint” boy—really a girl—offline meetings were impossible.

I downloaded a manga app, learning Dragon Ball ended years ago.

I liked stories with weak protagonists protected by the strong, male or female.
Complex, brainy manga made me anxious.

After几十章, a paywall hit—coins needed!
Searching online, I realized it cost money.
What kind of manga charges?

Each stopped at suspenseful points, itching me to continue, but I had no money.

That night, I ate Lin Yinyin’s chili-fried pork—seeds removed, meat rich brown, fragrant, and delicious, worthy of her cooking contest win.

Swallowing, I beamed: “Delicious! Thank you, Sis!”

She froze, then smiled back: “What for tomorrow?”

Afraid she’d run out again, I said: “No need, Sis. I love the phone.”

“Want a new one when the next model’s out?”

Cheeks puffed, I shook my head: “This is my first gift ever. I’ll keep it safe.”

Her heart melted, patting my head: “So cute. Shall we go to school the day after tomorrow?”

“I’ve wanted to go…” I mumbled, face sour.

That night, I began my online dating adventure, searching for tips and learning to add random girls’ QQ numbers.

A dazzling array of pretty avatars felt like choosing concubines.

Grinning, I added a high-level QQ with a membership!

She accepted instantly.
Heart racing, I typed: “Wanna date, miss?”

Her reply: “?”

“Level-one account, no annual membership, and that avatar? Where’d this country bumpkin come from?”

Speechless, I typed a reply, but the chat vanished—deleted, gone without a trace.

A search revealed she’d removed me.

Depressed, my dream of dating pretty girls online crumbled.
Unequal status meant no future.

My first dating attempt—failed.

Disheartened, I opened manga, buried in bed with a lamp, laughing wildly.

For two days, the phone distracted me.
I couldn’t stop at meals, giggling at funny scenes.

“Young Master,” Lin Yinyin called, eyeing the wolf.

Ignoring him, I laughed at my phone, lost in my world, even on the toilet.

Phones were too fun; the online world was thrilling.
Missing a moment felt like missing everything.

Eyes heavy, I stayed up past 11, sleeping only for Monday.
Waking, I donned my uniform, ready for school.