Unbearable - Chapter 24
Chapter 24: Peaceful and Distant: A Transfer of Two Thousand
Physically and mentally exhausted, Yu Wei slept deeply that night, but in her groggy half-consciousness, she kept thinking she heard the sound of running water.
It sounded like water running in a bathroom behind a wall—but when she focused on it, the sound stopped.
The heat was unbearable—hot enough to be suffocating.
Yu Wei slowly opened her eyes, still groggy. Without her glasses, all she could make out was a blurry figure sitting beside her.
She looked at the figure, but couldn’t make a sound.
The silhouette leaned down, a hand resting on her leg, slowly sliding upward—closer and closer. She felt like she was being firmly pinned to the bed, unable to move.
As the figure leaned closer, the face gradually came into focus—it was a face she knew all too well.
Yu Wei jolted awake instantly, paused for a second, then let out a long breath.
Never taking those commissions again!
She swallowed. That bizarre dream had felt scarily real. Her heart was still pounding out of control.
Exhaling shakily, she realized her current position was awkward—she was practically curled up in Yu Wei’s arms.
Carefully, she shifted toward the wall, holding her breath. Moving slowly, she edged her body away and then looked up—Only to meet Yu Wei’s just-opened eyes.
Still drowsy…
“You’re awake?” Yu Wei frowned, blinking to wake herself.
Yu Wei sat up abruptly and murmured a reply, pulling her phone from her pocket to check the time. “We should get going.”
Yu Wei gave a simple “mm” in response. Stretching out her long legs, she got off the bed and reached her hand out toward Yu Wei.
Her fingers were well-shaped, with smooth, rounded tips.
“I’ve got it,” Yu Wei turned her gaze away at once, avoided eye contact, and quickly got out of bed, darting into the yard to wash her face.
The water from the hose had been warmed by the sun, but even so, splashing it on her face helped clear her head.
Shaking the water off her hands, she stood up—and immediately jumped back, startled into leaning against the courtyard wall.
Yu Wei, who had been standing there doing nothing, just waiting for her turn at the faucet: “…”
“Nightmare?” she asked.
Yu Wei’s lips were colorless from fright, water still dripping from her face, eyes wet beneath her bangs—like a frightened little hamster.
So timid.
“Ah.” Yu Wei finally responded and moved aside to let her use the faucet, mumbling vaguely.
Yes, she’d had a nightmare.
A super scary one.
The anxiety lingered all the way through the afternoon’s self-study period, when Cheng Miao asked if she wanted to go ice skating.
“I didn’t bring my skates. I’m not going,” Yu Wei said, head down, focused on her homework.
Cheng Miao and her “Ghost Girls” squad made a showy exit through the front door of the classroom under envious gazes, then circled around to the back door, waving at the class through the windows.
Such show-offs, drawing gritted-teeth envy from everyone.
Yu Wei, seated by the window, showed only half her profile as she quietly watched Yu Wei slumped over her desk, and the bulging backpack under her desk.
Still rattled, Yu Wei spent the entire afternoon mentally coaching herself: no more weird commissions. Especially anything involving Yu Wei. Only chibi-style, no realistic portraits.
But as soon as she got home and logged into her account, a new commission request popped up.
YearYearHasFish: “Still taking commissions, miss?”
YearYearHasFish: “It’s a private piece—realistic human-animal hybrid style.”
YearYearHasFish: [Image]
YearYearHasFish: “Heard you’re a fellow FishFish Ice fan. Hehe, so I was bold enough to reach out! I’d love something seductive and cool, super fierce vibes. Fox ears and tail, please.”
It wasn’t that kind of image, but since she had just dreamed about Yu Wei at noon, Yu Wei flinched the moment she realized the commission was about her.
CatEatsFish: “Sorry, not accepting commissions anymore.”
Yu Wei put her phone down and went downstairs with her water cup.
Ding Qing had hired a dance teacher to come tutor Yu Wei at home every evening from 7:30 to 9:00.
But Yu Wei had refused.
Ding Qing looked upset and had just walked the dance teacher out when Yu Wei came downstairs.
Seeing her, Ding Qing sighed.
Yu Wei put down her cup, washed a plate of cherry tomatoes, and brought them over to her.
“Why?” Ding Qing didn’t take the plate and frowned deeply. “Doesn’t she need this? I brought the teacher to her doorstep, and she still refused? She still won’t accept me? What more can I do?”
Her voice rose sharply as her eyes turned red, her neck stiff as she stared at Yu Wei.
Yu Wei let her finish, then said, “That’s not true. She’s been eating the food you sent.”
Ding Qing’s teary eyes widened slightly.
“Wait a sec,” Yu Wei said.
She dashed upstairs, grabbed her phone, and ran back down, her footsteps echoing on the stairs.
A flash of motion passed by the doorway.
Yu Wei looked up, frowning.
“Look.” Yu Wei opened a photo she had taken earlier and handed it to Ding Qing.
Ding Qing held the phone in her hands, carefully examining the image. Her fingers lightly brushed the screen as tears fell onto it. Then she smiled and kept saying, “Good, good,” while asking Yu Wei to send it to her.
Yu Wei nodded.
She didn’t mention that she’d already posted it to her WeChat Moments. She just resent it to Ding Qing via private message.
“Mom,” Yu Wei stood beside her, phone still in hand, watching as she gently caressed the image of Yu Wei on the screen. “You don’t need to bring me lunch anymore. I’ll eat in the school cafeteria.”
Ding Qing gave a soft hum of acknowledgment, sounding a bit surprised. “The cafeteria’s okay?”
Yu Wei, who had been living at school and eating cafeteria food since middle school, hesitated for two seconds and then nodded. “It’s pretty good.”
Ding Qing nodded, still staring at the phone, saying nothing more.
Yu Wei turned away, picked up her cup, and prepared to leave.
As she reached the stairs, she suddenly heard Ding Qing ask, “I heard from Teacher Wen that you and Weiwei signed up for the school anniversary program. Is your violin still usable?”
Her grip on the cup tightened. Yu Wei pursed her lips and turned back. “I already bought a new one.”
Ding Qing didn’t look at her, seated on the couch with only half her back visible. She simply said, “If there’s anything you want, buy it yourself.”
She had given Yu Wei a supplementary card, which triggered SMS alerts for every transaction.
But she hadn’t even noticed—no alert had come for the new violin.
Yu Wei used to lie to herself—Ding Qing was just too busy, running both the family business and her own, managing countless projects and decisions, constantly surrounded by people waiting for direction.
Just like many busy working moms—no time to go home, no time to call.
At least she gave her money. At least she provided for her life.
But now, when placed side by side with real moments, those self-deceptions popped like soap bubbles.
Yu Wei walked up the stairs slowly. Halfway up, she looked up and saw Yu Wei standing at the top.
The stairway landing was wide, but Yu Wei stood right in the middle. The living room lights were off, and only the light from above shone down on her face, casting her expression in shadow.
Yu Wei lowered her head and kept walking up.
Yu Wei looked down at her.
She had felt a bit happy earlier when she heard Yu Wei tell Ding Qing not to bring lunch anymore. That meant she could just eat at her place after school.
But the more she heard, the more upset she got.
There was no care in Ding Qing’s tone at all. She watched Yu Wei rush downstairs to comfort her, only to receive a few half-hearted replies—then quietly climb the stairs alone.
Yu Wei was standing on a step now, head down, avoiding her gaze, trying to sneak past by sticking close to the wall.
“Give it to me,” Yu Wei suddenly held out her hand.
Yu Wei blinked, confused. “What?”
Following Yu Wei’s gaze, she looked down at the empty cup in her hand.
“I’m not thirsty anymore.”
Ding Qing was still downstairs.
Yu Wei’s voice was almost a whisper.
Yu Wei stared at her, expressionless, jaw clenched.
Yu Wei hesitated, then handed the cup over.
She was thirsty. She hadn’t drunk anything since school ended. The teacher Ding Qing brought came right after, and they talked for a while before leaving.
Yu Wei had been thinking about the sour plum tea she drank at noon, and her mouth was watering even more now.
Yu Wei took the cup without saying a word and went downstairs.
She was quick. Yu Wei was still standing at the doorway, spacing out, when she came back up, placed the refilled cup in her hand, and walked straight back to her room without a word.
Yu Wei: “…”
Why is she mad again?
Yu Wei never really talked much, but when she was mad, her gaze sharpened and became proud and cold.
But just now, her eyes had only been lowered—not cold.
That night, when it was time, Yu Wei opened her door, and Yu Wei followed her out. The two of them headed to the rink together again.
Ding Qing, swamped with work, only stayed for a short while before leaving—just like the night before.
Yu Wei clumsily did her warm-ups, looking like someone learning to control their limbs for the first time. She skated awkwardly for a bit before Yu Wei changed shoes and stepped onto the ice.
From across the rink, a tearing sound echoed loudly.
Curious, Yu Wei skated over. When she arrived, she only saw Yu Wei zipping up her backpack.
“What was that sound?” Yu Wei asked, peeking curiously at her. She looked down and saw that Yu Wei’s skates were wrapped in several thick layers of tape. She froze.
Yu Wei pulled down her pant legs, adjusted them slightly, and stood up.
“The ankle support’s collapsed a bit—just securing it.”
Yu Wei shifted uncomfortably on her new skates, the blades slipping unpredictably. Yu Wei’s own skates were damaged, yet she had bought her new ones, along with protective gear.
Was it because she didn’t have enough money for her own?
Yu Wei pursed her lips and let her gaze fall softly on the tape.
That night, back home, she opened her commission app.
CatEatsFish: “Hello, is that commission from earlier still available? I can take it—will finish it quickly.”
YearYearHasFish: “Yes yes yes!”
YearYearHasFish: “No rush, really—it’s just a private piece for myself.”
Yu Wei didn’t reply again.
She brainstormed, sketched thumbnails, and finished the lineart. By the time she was done, it was already past midnight.
Stretching her arms, she sent the sketch to the client, collapsed onto her bed, and fell asleep with her eyes closed.
The next morning, after snoozing her alarm several times, she finally got up. After waking up properly, she checked her commission app earnings, then switched to her alternate WeChat account.
She thought Yu Wei wouldn’t reply.
To her surprise, there was a message waiting: a document file, and a notice that a transfer had been returned because it was not accepted in time.
Yu Wei didn’t take the money—but had sent a meticulously formatted beginner’s skating guide, clean and well-organized, clearly crafted with care.
PeacefulAndDistant: “Been so busy with my kid I didn’t even notice. Thanks so much!”
PeacefulAndDistant: “Transferred ¥2,000.”
The front door opened. Yu Wei had come back.
Yu Wei, who had just learned how to use account duplicating software, immediately set her phone down, heart pounding. Her phone buzzed twice.
The transfer had gone through.
Yu Wei breathed a sigh of relief, then went downstairs for breakfast. She was dazed the whole way. At school, she would stand up during class and collapse onto her desk the moment it ended.
Two minutes before the bell rang, Cheng Miao turned around to call her.
She had just reached out her hand—but Yu Wei stepped in and blocked it.
Expressionless, Yu Wei lowered her head and gently placed the back of her hand on Yu Wei’s forehead.
“She asked me to wake her before class,” Cheng Miao whispered, glancing between them.
No fever.
Yu Wei withdrew her hand and paused for a moment. “Don’t wake her. Let her sleep.”
“Huh?” Cheng Miao was stunned. She looked up and down, then gave a small “Oh.”