Unbearable - Chapter 38

Chapter 38: With Hidden Meaning

 

It had rained all night, and by morning, the sky was still overcast. The air was thick with dampness, as if it could start raining again at any moment.

 

There was no air-conditioning in the classroom. The doors and windows were wide open, and half the class wore light jackets over their short-sleeved shirts with the zippers undone. Just one glance made it obvious the season was changing from summer to autumn, like this rain had ushered in fall.

 

The dampness crept up onto the desks, leaving a sticky moisture. As soon as Yu Wei sat down, she wiped the table clean.

 

She had just finished and was laying out her writing board when someone came running into the classroom, excitedly gossiping.
“There’s a super gorgeous woman coming from the other building!”

 

The moment they heard “super gorgeous,” the whole class lit up.
“Where? Where?”

 

There was only one building across from the classroom — the office building behind them.

 

The fastest ones immediately swarmed the windows on the north side, crowding around and blocking the view for everyone else, peering out toward the corridor between the two buildings.

 

“Whoa! What an entrance — the principal and vice principal are with her. And isn’t that our Xiang-jie in the back?”

 

“Our Xiang-jie is weak, pitiful, and helpless. I haven’t heard anything about a new teacher for our class.”

 

“Maybe she’s not for our class.”

 

Yu Wei paused her movements and turned to glance at Yu Wei.

 

Yu Wei sat perfectly still, head down reading a book, completely unreactive.

 

“She’s totally coming to our class — Xiang-jie is glaring at us.”

 

“She’s here, she’s here.” The group jostled and quickly scattered back to their seats.

 

A sharp yet smiling voice rang from outside,
“My daughter’s in this class. Just thought I’d drop by.”

 

As the words fell, Ding Qing appeared at the back door of the classroom, followed by school leadership and a few teachers. She looked into the room with composed ease.

 

Her eyes landed on Yu Wei, who sat right by the back door. Even the sharp elegance of her makeup seemed to soften.

 

The classroom fell dead silent. Everyone’s gaze turned to Yu Wei.

 

Surprise. Curiosity.

 

Ding Qing smiled gently and opened her red lips, “Wei…”

 

“Auntie,” Yu Wei said, turning back. Her voice was calm.

 

She stayed seated, one arm resting on the desk, a pen loosely held in her hand. Her eyes lifted slightly, calmly looking up at Ding Qing from beneath her lashes.

 

The color drained from Ding Qing’s face. The composure and warmth crumbled. Her expression froze instantly, staring at Yu Wei in shock.

 

“Mom.”

 

Yu Wei called out, “Why are you here?”

 

The tense classroom atmosphere shifted instantly. Everyone’s gaze snapped away from Yu Wei and fell on Yu Wei.

 

Like a physical weight.

 

Yu Wei stood up and swallowed silently. “Class is about to start.”

 

Her voice was soft, with a faint tremble. Her eyes, behind her glasses, were nervously fixed on Ding Qing.

 

Ding Qing said nothing. It took her a long while to recover. Her eyes, so similar to Yu Wei’s, were full of disappointment and void of light. The corners of her mouth tugged stiffly as she forced a smile.

 

“I have work to get back to.”

 

Her high heels clicked erratically down the hallway and stairs.

 

The classmates, unsure of what they’d just witnessed, looked between Yu Wei and Yu Wei.

 

The school leadership left.

 

Wen Xiang entered from the back and walked casually up to the lectern.

 

Cheng Miao turned to Yu Wei in amazement.
“Whoa, that’s your mom? That’s the first time I’ve seen her. Auntie’s got such presence! She’s beautiful!”

 

It felt like she had dropped out of the sky — so sudden and unexpected.

 

Yu Wei hummed vaguely in response, then turned her head slightly to glance at Yu Wei.

 

Yu Wei showed no reaction and was still reading her book.

 

All morning, Yu Wei was distracted. Every so often she would pull out her phone, open Ding Qing’s chat, wanting to send a message of comfort — but she hesitated, worried she might upset her.

 

Then she’d exit that chat and instinctively slide into Yu Wei’s messages, stare for a few minutes, then leave again.

 

By noon dismissal, Yu Wei finally looked up at her.

 

Their eyes met. Yu Wei pressed her lips together, lowered her head, packed her things, and stood up.

 

The two of them left the classroom one after another, walking side by side.

 

“I ordered some groceries online. They were delivered to a pickup point nearby.” Yu Wei showed her phone to Yu Wei, pointing out the shop name and address. “Here. Is it far?”

 

Yu Wei glanced at it. “Not far.”

 

If they entered through the main gate of the courtyard, it would be right along the way — a tiny convenience store at the mouth of an alley.

 

Calling it a store was generous — it was only a few square meters, with shelves crammed along the walls and one row in the center. A massive piece of cardboard was tacked onto the outer concrete wall, with “Grocery Pickup Point” scrawled in black marker.

 

Yu Wei passed it all the time but had never noticed it.

 

Two steps up, and behind the door was a pile of neatly sorted packages.

 

After Yu Wei gave her phone number, the shopkeeper — a cigarette dangling from his lips — pointed at the store’s only shopping cart.
“There’s a lot. It’ll be a pain for you two to carry. Put it all in the cart and roll it back.”

 

Yu Wei quickly thanked him.

 

“No need to thank me — we’re all neighbors. Just return the cart when you’re done. I’ve got deliveries this afternoon for folks who can’t come pick up.”

 

Yu Wei pushed the cart outside while Yu Wei carried the items out and loaded them in.

 

The shopkeeper craned his neck watching her go back and forth and tsked,
“Just bring the cart inside and load everything in. You two can carry it out together.”

 

“No need.” Yu Wei’s rolled-up sleeves revealed lean, taut muscle.

 

Only one bag of rice remained. Yu Wei reached for it, but before her hand could touch it, Yu Wei had already picked it up.

 

Yu Wei grabbed the last bag of vegetables — a giant sack with two bright green heads of lettuce peeking through.

 

The cart was now full to the brim, stacked high.

 

Only that top bag of lettuce was placed by Yu Wei.

 

Yu Wei pushed the cart, the wheels clattering noisily over the rough cement.

 

Yu Wei walked beside her, hands down, stealing glances at her several times. Each time Yu Wei turned to look back, she quickly looked away.

 

“Is there something on my face?” Yu Wei asked.

 

“No.”

 

Yu Wei tugged at her collar.

 

“You’ve been staring at me all morning. Just say what you want.” Yu Wei sighed helplessly. Every time she turned around, Yu Wei dodged.

 

Yu Wei bit her lip, frowning as she looked at her.
“Why did you…”

 

She’d begun but didn’t know how to continue. She wanted to ask why Yu Wei had called Ding Qing “Auntie” in front of everyone.

 

But she knew Yu Wei had never accepted Ding Qing, so the question felt pointless.

 

She knew. She understood.

 

But somehow, it still didn’t sit right in her chest.

 

Yu Wei bit the soft flesh inside her cheek repeatedly, lowering her eyes. “Forget it. Nothing.”

 

Which clearly meant it was something.

 

“Because I called your mom ‘Auntie’?” Yu Wei guessed.

 

That word… drew a sharp line.

 

Yu Wei didn’t respond — which meant yes.

 

Yu Wei looked at her in surprise. “And why do you think that is?”

 

Yu Wei still looked down, hiding the secret, selfish sadness in her heart. She quietly replied,
“I know you don’t want to acknowledge her. I understand.”

 

It was understandable — not easy to accept.

 

Though that was part of it, it wasn’t the whole reason.

 

Yu Wei glanced at her, then said, meaningfully, “I don’t want people to think we share the same mom.”

 

Her tone was light and natural.

 

Yu Wei froze where she stood, staring at her in shock.

 

Yu Wei anxiously stared at the plastic bag in the cart flapping in the breeze. Was that too blunt? Or too vague?

 

Yu Wei liked her, but never confessed — likely because of this concern.

 

The clattering cart suddenly came to a halt. Yu Wei turned around and saw Yu Wei had stopped behind her, not following.

 

She coughed lightly. “You get it, right?”

 

Yes.

 

Yu Wei nodded. Once her head lowered, she kept it there, staring at the rain-soaked ground.

 

It was muddy, still wet with leftover puddles.

 

“I thought we…”

 

She abruptly cut off, embarrassed by her own wishful thinking. Shame curled through her chest and she couldn’t lift her head.

 

Clenching her palms, she said nothing.

 

“We’re not there yet,” Yu Wei said softly, eyes fixed on her downcast face. She coughed again, nerves creeping into her voice. “Also, we can’t let people think we’re sisters right now. That’d be… inconvenient.”

 

Yu Wei mumbled, “Inconvenient how?”

 

Yu Wei glanced at her, hesitated, then reached out to take her hand.

 

But Yu Wei’s hand, hidden inside her sleeve, slipped away — her fingers brushing against Yu Wei’s palm.

 

Cold.

 

“You know. I’m fine with it — it’s up to you.” Yu Wei clenched her empty hand and released it again, noticing something was wrong.

 

She bent down to look at Yu Wei’s face — eyes red and glistening. She panicked.
“I’m just worried about how others will talk. That’s all. Don’t cry.”

 

Talk? She didn’t mean… disgust?

 

Yu Wei froze.

 

“I’m not crying.” She turned her face away, avoiding Yu Wei’s hand, biting her lip and blinking hard to hold back tears. “You’re not… disgusted by me?”

 

“Why would I be?” Yu Wei was stunned, her heart tightening.

 

“I’m not normal. I’m a freak.” Yu Wei whispered.

 

Yu Wei was the sun. She was just the mud underfoot. If people knew they were sisters, she would be the stain others used against Yu Wei.

 

Just like her mother had been.

 

Her eyes dropped, refusing to meet Yu Wei’s.

 

The alley was silent. The damp wind stirred around them.

 

“You’re not allowed to say that.”

 

The hug that followed was warm and tight.

 

The tears Yu Wei had tried so hard to hold back burst forth instantly. She lowered her head and buried it against Yu Wei’s shoulder, not making a sound.

 

After a few seconds, she mumbled,
“Let them talk. I’m used to it. It’s okay.”

 

Her voice was muffled, tinged with a nasal whimper — like a tiny animal softly sobbing.

 

Yu Wei’s heart melted.

 

“No. Not okay.” Yu Wei soothed her gently, her palm brushing over Yu Wei’s back. “And it’s too soon right now.”

 

“Too soon?”

 

Yu Wei was confused. Could there be such a thing as ‘too early’ for this?

 

So passionate. So pure.

 

Yu Wei inhaled deeply, her fingers clenching into fists before gently relaxing. Her palm slid lightly over Yu Wei’s back.

 

“No rush.”

 

They weren’t adults yet. They were girls, and this relationship was already complicated. Making it official was still too risky, too unstable.

 

Yu Wei quietly replied,
“Okay. I’ll listen to you.”

 

She pulled back, embarrassed. She’d cried on Yu Wei’s coat. Even her glasses were fogged and damp.

 

“I’ll go return the cart.” Yu Wei turned, keeping her pace slow.

 

Yu Wei sat under the eaves with her soup, trying to act like nothing happened. She swapped fingers to hold the bowl differently, peeking sideways at Yu Wei’s back.

 

Her ears were burning red.

 

Yu Wei clenched and unclenched her hand, over and over.

 

So… they’d cleared the air, right?

 

Her eyes flicked over to Yu Wei’s glowing red ear.

 

Yu Wei coughed, turned to push the cart at a calm pace, waiting for her to catch up.

 

The cart squeaked across the damp ground.

 

The old lady in the house was cooking. When she heard the noise, she stepped out of the kitchen and started nagging on sight:
“Who bought all this? I’m not accepting it! I can shop for myself!”

 

“I did,” Yu Wei replied softly, still flustered.

 

She stepped inside, avoiding Yu Wei’s gaze, and took the cart from her.
“They’re all groceries. I didn’t know what you needed, so I just bought a bit of everything.”

 

She hadn’t expected it to look like so much all packed in.

 

Yu Wei felt a bit embarrassed.

 

“Even more reason not to keep it.” The old lady scolded, but her tone softened. “Can’t let you buy all this.”

 

Yu Wei removed a big veggie bag from the cart and looked at her pleadingly.
“It’s non-refundable. And I’ve been eating here so often. If you don’t accept it, I won’t come again.”

 

“You little—fine, just this once.” The old lady grumbled. “Next time, don’t do this!”

 

Yu Wei beamed and squinted happily.

 

Yu Wei raised a brow but said nothing. She walked over and carried the rice and flour into the kitchen. There was chicken simmering in a clay pot, filling the house with fragrance.

 

“Perfect timing. I’ll make a few dishes to celebrate your successful performance.” The old lady handed Yu Wei a bowl of soup.
“Drink this first. Don’t get in the way.”

 

Yu Wei didn’t argue. She glanced at Yu Wei, who was sorting the groceries, and walked off with her bowl.

 

Behind the curtain, the old lady muttered quietly to Yu Wei:
“Why didn’t you stop her? Even if she’s just a friend, she’s still a guest. You don’t let guests pay for food.”

 

Yu Wei cleared the expired items from the fridge, repacked the fresh ones neatly.
“If I told her no, she really wouldn’t come anymore.”

 

Her tone was flat, emotionless.

 

The old lady stared at her for a moment, then lowered her voice to a whisper:
“Is she coming because she wants to, or because you keep dragging her here?”

 

Yu Wei stuffed the last vacuum-packed corn into the freezer drawer.

 

Thank goodness they’d upgraded to a bigger fridge, or this would never fit.

 

She closed the door with satisfaction and said, “Do I look like that kind of person?”

 

The old lady eyed her retreating back.
“Didn’t you lure that little wildcat in with a gold medal and lock her up at home—”

 

Yu Wei paused.

 

The old lady slapped her mouth.
“Go return the cart, then come back for lunch.”

 

It was barely a three-minute round trip—but she still had to say it.

 

Yu Wei replied, “Mm.”

 

When she exited the kitchen, she saw Yu Wei sitting under the eaves on a small stool, carefully blowing on her soup and sipping quietly.

 

“If it’s hot, let it cool first.”

 

Yu Wei turned to her. Holding the bowl by the base, she switched her index finger for her middle finger.
“It’s okay.”

 

Yu Wei’s lips twitched.

 

“I’ll return the cart. Coming?”

 

“No,” Yu Wei blurted. Her voice was soft and quick. She immediately lowered her head and drank her soup, not looking up.

 

Not hot? That tasty?

 

Yu Wei pressed her lips into a line, said “Mm,” and pushed the cart away.

 

She glanced back once—Yu Wei still had her head down, hiding behind her bowl, her fingers awkwardly switching again.

 

Yu Wei really didn’t want to go.

 

If she could, she didn’t even want to eat lunch with Yu Wei today. Especially with how often Yu Wei kept looking at her.

 

Way more than usual.

 

Yu Wei kept her head down, sipping soup and pacing the courtyard.

 

When it was time, Yu Wei called her in for a nap.

 

She didn’t say much, didn’t ask anything, which helped dissolve Yu Wei’s awkwardness. Now that she knew Yu Wei didn’t hate her and even cared deeply about her, she felt much more at ease.

 

She fell asleep as soon as she lay down beside her.

 

Yu Wei was a quiet sleeper. Very still. Except she liked to cling—her face would lean against Yu Wei’s shoulder.

 

Her breathing was shallow and warm.

 

Yu Wei stared at the ceiling, her mind full of the manga she’d read late last night at the ice rink.

 

There was no way she could fall asleep.

 

That afternoon, Li Yu came to pick them up and drop them off. Before they got out, he hesitated.
“President Ding didn’t seem in a good mood today.”

 

Yu Wei pressed her lips together and glanced at Yu Wei, whispering, “Thank you, Uncle Li.”

 

Yu Wei opened the door and the two went inside.

 

The room was dim with dusk. No lights. On the couch, a figure sat completely still.

 

“Mom.” Yu Wei turned on the light and looked at Ding Qing’s red, teary eyes.

 

“You go upstairs. Wei stays,” Ding Qing said, her voice steady, though hoarse and nasal from crying.

 

“Mom…” Yu Wei frowned.

 

“It’s okay.” Yu Wei gently pushed her from behind.

 

Yu Wei hesitated, glanced back from the staircase with worry, but when she saw Yu Wei shake her head, she turned and went upstairs.

 

Ding Qing saw their subtle exchange. Her heart clenched tighter.

 

“You’re not heartless. I just… was too busy with work. I didn’t spend enough time with you. That’s why you won’t even call me Mom. I’ve failed as a mother.” Her voice cracked. She tried to understand. She really did. Girls this age had pride and rebellion. But one word—“Auntie”—still broke her.

 

She held it together all morning. But the moment she got into the car, she sobbed.

 

“You’ve always known where I stand,” Yu Wei said coldly. “I already have a mom.”

 

“But she’s not your biological mother!” Ding Qing lost control.

 

“So what?”

 

Yu Wei’s face turned frosty. She stared at the woman slumped on the couch, makeup ruined and face streaked with tears—messy, yet still sharp beneath.

 

Yu Wei suddenly felt tired.

 

She glanced toward the stairs and lowered her voice.
“Not all mothers measure relationships in bl00d. You already have a daughter, but you rejected her. And now you cling to me—a stranger you’ve barely met. You’re right—you’re not a good mother. But not to me.”

 

From the moment she entered this house, Yu Wei had been observing coldly. She and this family each had their motives. They were strangers—no need for real feelings.

 

But not anymore.

 

“How could you say that!” Ding Qing clutched her chest, gasping, pale and crumpling.

 

“Isn’t it true?” Yu Wei said.

 

“You’re defending her?” Ding Qing said bitterly. “If not for her, I wouldn’t have lost my real daughter. You wouldn’t have suffered either. You barely know her—yet you choose her over me.”

 

Yu Wei stared at her. After a while, she frowned.
“First, she was swapped too. It’s not her fault. Second, my family treated me well—maybe even better.”

 

That was a fact. No need to repeat it.

 

Yu Wei looked toward the stairs. Empty. No shadows.

 

“When you first contacted me, I made my terms clear: I won’t change my household registration, and I won’t swap parents. I’ve upheld my end—agreed to everything, as long as I can practice on the ice when the rink is closed. My conditions haven’t changed. If you regret it now, that’s up to you.”

 

Ding Qing said nothing. Her face turned ashen as she slumped, saying no more.

 

Yu Wei circled around the living room, about to go upstairs, but paused and turned back.

 

“She’s a good girl,” she said quietly. “She’s not a stain on me.”

 

Ding Qing looked up suddenly.

 

Yu Wei returned to the staircase and climbed slowly, without looking back.

 

When she opened the door, the room was dark. The girl inside was lying quietly on the bed.

 

Yu Wei didn’t speak. She stepped in, walked over, and lay down beside her.

 

A moment passed, and Yu Wei suddenly leaned over and wrapped her arms around Yu Wei.

 

Not speaking. Just tightly hugging her.

 

Yu Wei froze.

 

Then raised a hand and gently brushed the back of Yu Wei’s head.

 

They didn’t speak.

 

Only the sound of the rain falling lightly outside the window remained, endlessly.