Ouyang’s Mother’s State of Mind

No matter how they try to make amends now, they can never truly enter their hearts. She does not know what to do to make these two children let down their guard and genuinely accept them.

This is the sorrow of parents like them. If only they had managed to set aside time to care for these two children, no matter how exhausted or burdened they were, perhaps the scene today would be entirely different.

But she possesses no magic brush like Ma Liang, and therefore, there are no "ifs" in this world. As time slips away, the mother stands to the side, hands clasped together, at a complete loss.

She glances up at the time; a red, sun-shaped clock hangs on the pale blue wall. It shows a quarter past seven. If they do not eat breakfast now, they will be late for school. Clutching her apron tightly, the mother’s eyes glisten with sorrow.

After struggling to compose herself, she walks over to Ouyang Xianyi. With a loving smile, she says softly, "Little brother, breakfast is ready! Come and eat quickly, or you'll be late for school!"

Hearing his mother’s voice, Ouyang Xianyi puts down the remote control. After turning off the television, he turns back, wearing an expression he believes to be gentle, and says to her, "All right, I understand."

He rises from the plush white sofa. Ouyang Xianyi is a boy of delicate beauty—five feet nine inches tall, with a slender waist and a face so lean it looks no larger than a palm.

He walks quietly toward the dining room. Gazing at the room bathed in sunlight, he recalls his older brother’s busy figure in the kitchen earlier and cannot help but curl his lips into a smile. His enchanting face looks even more captivating, his thin lips naturally rosy.

His skin, much fairer than most, makes him look as ethereal and moving as an immortal. Watching her youngest son, the mother knows he must be thinking of his brother.

She does not disturb him, choosing instead to walk into the kitchen alone to bring out the breakfast and set it on the table. After standing there in a daze for a moment, Ouyang Xianyi reaches up to pat his cheeks, silently scolding himself for being a fool.

His brother isn't gone forever! Why is he acting as if he’s leaving home for good? Thinking this, his mood brightens. He sits in a chair at the table and says to his mother with a faint smile, "I’m starting now."

He picks up the knife and fork, cuts a piece of ham, and puts it in his mouth. Mmm! When the mood is good, everything tastes wonderful. He finishes his breakfast with speed and elegance, then picks up the milk and takes a few sips.

He sets the glass down and rises from the white, red-trimmed chair. The white curtains dance gently in the breeze, and the strawberry plants on the windowsill have begun to grow tiny, green fruit, shyly hiding beneath the leaves.

Picking up his schoolbag from the chair, he smiles at his mother. He walks gracefully to the door, waves, and says, "I'm off to school!"

He turns and closes the door, gets into the private car his brother arranged for him, and speeds away. As the saying goes, he waves his hand, taking no clouds with him, leaving only a trail of dark exhaust.

He sits quietly in the car, which is filled with a faint, incense-like scent that purifies the air. Perhaps influenced by this fragrance, his tense nerves feel much more at ease.

The car soon arrives at the school gate, just as it does every day. Crowds of people are packed on both sides of the entrance. Ouyang Xianyi cannot fathom their thinking—why stay here blocking the gate instead of staying in their classrooms?

What’s more, they constantly create noise pollution. Every day, the moment he arrives, these people react as if famished souls have just discovered a life-saving loaf of bread.