Bad Mom

When my son was in his senior year of high school, I stopped all of his tutoring classes and insisted that he spend an entire week in Hainan with me. That year, our relationship was at its worst.

Even under the bright sun on the beach, my son didn't show me a hint of kindness. In an act of defiance, he spent all his New Year's money buying gifts for his family and friends, but not a single thing for me. I thought to myself, "Maybe this is for the best."

In his eyes, I was the "bad mom." At least, if I died, he wouldn't be as upset.

I stood in the cold wind for a full hour, clutching the doctor's diagnosis, too afraid to go home. The pain in my body was nothing compared to the final verdict from the doctor. He said my cancer had spread, and there was no point in treating it anymore. I had maybe three months left.

I thought to myself, "It's not that big of a deal. I've had a smooth life, experienced what I needed to, and there are no regrets."

My elderly parents were enjoying their vacation at my brother's place in California, and my husband's career was thriving. He would eventually remarry, and I wouldn't need to worry about him. The only thing on my mind was my son, who was in his final year of high school.

With less than 100 days before the college entrance exam, I didn't want this to affect his life. Thankfully, our relationship had been strained for the past year, so he might not even notice the change in me.

For dinner that day, I broke from my routine. I didn't buy vegetables to cook, but instead ordered a table full of fried chicken, hoping to surprise him when he came home.

When he walked through the door, though, he ignored me completely and went straight to his room. The pain in my chest reminded me that time was precious. I stood up to stop him.

"Eat first," I said. "I got you your favorite KFC."

His face twisted into a scornful expression, and he turned around, brushing everything off the table onto the floor.

"Just say what you want, no need for all this," he spat. "I find it disgusting."

The mess on the floor left me frozen in place. I looked at him, unsure of when this child, who looked so much like me, had grown into someone who could speak such hurtful words. The pain of his words felt sharper than the physical pain from my cancer.

"Xingxing, I…" I started, but was interrupted.

"Shut up, I'm going to study," he said, rolling his eyes. "You're always talking about my studying, but when I do, you still find fault with me."

I could hardly speak. This child, who was always polite outside, would treat me with such bitterness at home. His words were his silent protest against me.

At 18, he understood the importance of exams. Even if he was rebelling against me, I knew he would study hard. This gave me some peace of mind. What worried me more was his life skills.

I had been too overprotective of him over the years, and looking back, I could see how that might have hurt him.

Luckily, I still had three months left.

"Ugh, stop with that bitter face, you old hag. You know people with that expression…" he paused as he walked past me and into his room, "they don't live long!"

He knew just how to hit me where it hurt. But this time, I really was dying. And for some strange reason, I felt relieved. At least he wouldn't be devastated by my death.

Our relationship began to deteriorate during high school. After he aced the city's middle school entrance exam, he got caught up in playing video games day and night, neglecting his studies. His grades dropped to the bottom of his class. I confiscated his iPad, took away his phone, and forced him to focus on his studies.

He didn't argue, and after six months, he recovered and regained his top rank. But then, to spite me, he quit playing games entirely and started dating someone.

I had a long talk with him that night, but it didn't help. I even went to the teacher to intervene. I told him, "Your main task now is studying. After the college exams, if you want to date, I won't stop you."

I broke up his first love, and his attitude toward me shifted. I thought that once he grew older, he would understand my actions.

I had relied on the college entrance exams to change my own fate, and I wanted him to be responsible for his future, to give himself more choices.

That year in senior high school was his silent protest against me.

I had followed all the parenting books for years, but for the first time, I decided to stop. I stopped following the book.

I decided to take him to Hainan for a vacation, despite his strong objections. He yelled at me, "Are you out of your mind? What's the point of going on vacation now?"

"Ha, you just want to ruin my grades, don't you?"

"Old hag, maybe you should see a doctor before you ruin everything for me."

My husband, caught in the middle, tried to mediate.

"Sweetheart, it's only a few months. After the exams, we can all go on vacation together."

"I really don't understand you sometimes. His grades are already good. Why do you have to make trouble?"

"Don't just talk about him, I'm thinking you should stop messing things up!"

Over the years, my husband had grown impatient, often siding with our son.

"Son, I'm on your side this time. Your mom is just looking for trouble."

"Did you skip dinner? Let's go out for some late-night snacks."

But this time, I was firm. I couldn't wait for his exams to finish. I wanted to teach him life skills, even if he hated me for it.

I chose Hainan because there was a professional e-sports team holding interviews there.

The night I broke his iPad, I regretted it deeply.

"I've already arranged everything with your teacher," I said, refusing to back down as I grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving. "You can study in Hainan just the same."

"The e-sports team you love is recruiting in Hainan this year. Don't you want to try?"

I wasn't hiding it from him. It was my bargaining chip to convince him to go with me.

He paused, then gave a self-deprecating smile. "You slap me, then give me a sugar-coated pill?"

"Old hag, where did you read this kind of motivational nonsense?"

"You should've known that I'd never forgive you for smashing my iPad that night."

Despite all the insults, my son packed his things and got on the plane to Hainan. The plan I offered was too tempting. I promised that for the month before the exams, I would leave him alone. If he could prove his abilities, I would never interfere with his life again.

He didn't hesitate to agree, almost as if to spite me. He made me write a promise letter and made me sign it.

I signed it, knowing that I wouldn't be around long enough to see his exams.

On the flight, he didn't speak to me at all, but I could tell from the slight curve of his lips that he was in a good mood, probably because I had been so strict with him all these years.

I knew that he spent the night researching the team's interview and practicing his finger agility.

My son had talent. Even though he kept it from me, even though his training squeezed in between studying, I could see from his computer that his ranking was climbing.

In just a few days, his speed had improved by 300%.

I was proud of him, but more than anything, I wanted to apologize to him.

I'd never been taught how to be a mother. From the moment he was born, I fumbled my way through, making many mistakes. It felt like he was my experiment, and I made mistake after mistake, until he grew into the person he was.

That night, when I broke his iPad, I regretted it deeply, wishing I could apologize immediately. But the next day, I played the role of the evil mother again, pushing him to study.

At least, apart from being cruel to me, my son turned out fine.

While he was asleep with his headphones on, I looked at the memories on my phone and silently apologized to him for the first time in two years.

"Sorry, Chen Xingyue. This apology is two years too late."

After getting off the plane, we arrived at the seafood restaurant we had booked in advance.

A flash of surprise crossed my son's eyes, followed by a cold snort, as he marched into the restaurant.

When he was little, he had a weak constitution and would be allergic to any seafood, so since he started eating solid food, we rarely had seafood at home.

But my son loved seafood more than anything.

As he grew older, his grandmother secretly gave him crab, which led to a choking incident, and I had to rush him to the hospital. I exploded in the biggest fight I'd ever had with my in-laws since marrying into the Chen family.

My mother-in-law pointed her finger at me, yelling, "You're the one who secretly eats crab at home! Why can't my grandson have it?"

"You're the reason he can't eat seafood; you never let him have any, and that's why he's allergic!"

"How dare you argue with me? And blame me?"

"My poor grandson is in the hospital, and you don't even want to let him eat something good?"

After my son recovered, I was so afraid that my mother-in-law would secretly give him seafood again that I stayed by his side 24/7.

When he was discharged, he resented me for watching him so closely, like I was a criminal.

"Mom, you're so selfish. Why is it only you who can secretly enjoy good food, and I can't?"

"You fought with grandma, and it's all your fault. How could you be such a selfish, self-centered mom?"

He ran away to his grandmother's house and was sent back to the hospital again, learning his lesson.

But this time, he blamed me for not giving him better genes: "Grandma said it's because you ate too much seafood when you were pregnant, that's why I'm allergic!"

"Couldn't you have been more careful for just ten months? Do you know how much I suffered?"

"I love seafood the most in this family, but I can't eat it. I hate you!"

What he didn't know was that the person in the family who loved seafood the most wasn't him, it was me.

I grew up by the sea, and I was never used to northern cuisine.

But afraid that he'd be tempted, I never ate seafood in front of him, always waiting until he was asleep to sneak in a little.

This wasn't just a self-sacrificial act; it was the love of a mother for her child.

But today, I took him to a seafood restaurant.

"Two Australian lobsters, one king crab, East Star grouper for hotpot, ten sea urchins…" He quickly ordered from the menu, "That's enough, it won't be enough for two people if we order any more."

He didn't give me a chance to order. With a cold laugh, he said,

"I can't eat seafood, old witch, all of this is for you.

"You're not worried about the price, are you?"

"You never let me enjoy anything, so I won't let your wallet be happy either. Fair enough."

I didn't say anything, waiting for the seafood to arrive. I picked up a piece of the fish and put it in his bowl. "Xingxing, you can try eating a little.

"You're grown up now, your immunity is much better."

"For the past two years, I've been adding seafood to your meals as per the doctor's instructions to gradually build up your tolerance."

As I spoke, I pulled out a box of allergy medicine and placed it on the table.

"As long as it's not overeating, the usual amounts should be fine."

After he was discharged from the hospital, I had asked the doctor about my son's treatment plan in detail.

He could avoid seafood for life if he wanted to, but he loved it so much, I didn't want to hold him back.

The doctor told me his allergy was due to his immune system not being fully developed as a child, and it would get better as he grew older.

He gave me a detailed plan to gradually add small amounts of seafood to his food.

It was hard to control, though, because kids can't always resist their cravings, so I did this all secretly behind my family's back.

Now, he hardly has any allergic reactions, but he's still afraid to eat it.

I ate another mouthful of seafood, exaggerating a bit, "Fresh seafood is just the best! Too bad we can't get this at home."

"Xingxing, why aren't you eating? You don't think I can finish all this, do you?"

"You're not afraid I'll eat it all if you don't?"

I could see the tension in his clenched jaw, almost wanting to laugh.

I know my son well. He knows how to hurt me, and I know how to push his buttons.

By the time I'd eaten the second lobster, he snatched it away from me and started eating it himself.

After we finished eating, he didn't have any allergic reactions.

I sighed in relief and put the medicine away, but a sharp pain suddenly hit my stomach.

Was the cancer already spreading to my stomach? Was it advancing this fast?

Before I could even make it to the restroom, I crouched in the hallway, throwing up violently.

I vomited until all the food from earlier came out, and bile followed, then I even coughed up some blood before I could stop.

I took two painkillers from my bag, but it still didn't help much.

I still had to teach my son how to cook, how to do his laundry, and so many things to say to him…

I wiped away the blood, took a deep breath, and swallowed another painkiller before getting a taxi to the guesthouse we'd reserved.

By the time I arrived, my son had already finished two sets of practice tests and was impatiently fiddling around in the kitchen.

Apparently, quite some time had passed.

Feeling a bit guilty, I walked into the kitchen with some ingredients. "Xingxing, I went to buy some vegetables."

He frowned and spat on the ground, slamming the spatula onto the counter. Trying to leave, I grabbed his arm.

"Xingxing, you're going to make dinner today."

"I'm going to teach you, just the basics, so you can take care of yourself."

One bowl of egg fried rice, one plate of braised pork, and one dish of sautéed Shanghai greens.

Although there were recipes online, I was teaching him what I knew he'd like best.

When he was little, he didn't like eggs or vegetables, so I had to be creative, changing up the dishes to get him to eat them.

My mother-in-law used to mock me, saying, "He loves seafood, so let him eat it. You always try to make him eat vegetables. You're just being difficult."

"My son has never eaten a vegetable in his life, and he's turned out fine!"

Back in those days, food wasn't as plentiful, and you couldn't get by without eating vegetables, but my son had remembered what his grandmother said.

Every time I tried to make him eat vegetables, he'd bring up his dad.

It wasn't until I made Shanghai greens that he liked so much that he finally ate them.

"Not learning," my son muttered as he pushed my hand away. "Why should I learn to cook? Isn't that what you're here for?"

"You always act like a servant, so why are you suddenly so obsessed with me learning to cook?"

I didn't say anything, just stubbornly shoved an apron into his hands, signaling for him to put it on.

But he became even more resistant.

"Are you crazy? You want me to cook now?"

"Can't we just enjoy our vacation? Where did you go this afternoon?"

"I've never seen anyone go on vacation and cook for themselves. Don't mess with me; I have important things to do."

He jerked away from me, and I staggered but couldn't catch up.

He was already over 1.8 meters tall, and when he didn't want to do something, I couldn't stop him. But my time was running out.

He went back to his room to prepare for his interview. I sighed and started cleaning up the kitchen.

He really didn't have any life skills. He probably tried to make porridge, but the bottom of the pot was burned black and the rice was still raw.

I set up my phone in the kitchen and recorded step-by-step instructions for him, explaining how to make those three dishes, including the seasonings.

"Xingxing, add just a little bit of pepper to the braised pork. It's your favorite flavor, don't forget it when you make it."

"If you buy big Shanghai greens, use your hands to tear them, not a knife. You know how much you hate knife-cut vegetables."

I smiled to myself. He used to love tearing up the greens and waited eagerly for me to cook them. He'd eat them with relish.

Back then, he was the kind of kid who'd call me "mom" a hundred times a day. But now…

I shook my head, hearing sounds from his room, and quickly hid my phone.

"I'm starving. Why is it taking so long?"

"Old witch, look at the time. Are you trying to starve me?"

"You didn't think that just because you fed me a big meal at lunch, I should be grateful and skip dinner, right? Are you crazy?"

"Even if I'm not hungry, aren't you hungry yourself?"

"Oh, you ate too much at lunch and ended up vomiting."

My son sneered, then went into the kitchen to serve himself some food, eating noisily at the table.

I stood there in a daze, watching my son eat with gusto. A strange pain lingered in my heart.

Though I had long been accustomed to his harsh words, hearing him say such things in these final days still caused my heart to ache.

This was the child I carried for ten months, the child I raised through eighteen years of hardship. How could he speak to me like this?

I sighed and sat down across from him. "Xingxing, can you just call me 'Mom' properly?"

"Mom promised you, that in another month, I won't be around. Can't you be a little nicer to me?"

I tried to stay calm, but my voice still carried a note of pleading and a lump in my throat.

Before becoming a mother, I was prone to losing control of my emotions—getting teary and choked up during arguments, which always weakened my stance.

But after becoming a mom, I somehow managed to change that habit.

It was because I now had someone small behind me, someone who needed me to protect them.

The first time I stood up for my son was when I argued with my father-in-law.

On the first New Year's Eve after my son was born, my father-in-law insisted on giving my less-than-one-year-old son white liquor in front of all the relatives.

"Our family doesn't raise weaklings. He's already one year old, what's wrong with him tasting some liquor?"

"I won't let him drink too much, just dip the chopsticks in and let him taste a little. Didn't your husband grow up drinking it?"

"Ha, how can a child raised by a mom like you have any masculinity? You're always getting teary-eyed. What? Are you threatening me?"

"Today, Xingxing is definitely having this drink."

The relatives around us were laughing and making a scene, and even my husband, who always sided with me, kept silent.

He didn't want to lose face in front of so many relatives, and besides, he had grown up drinking liquor from a young age.

To him, there was nothing wrong with it.

But I had seen too many videos and knew that this was absolutely unacceptable.

This time, I completely snapped. Holding back my tears, I knocked the liquor out of my father-in-law's hand and confronted him.

The soft person I had always been suddenly became the fiercest one in the family, earning the reputation of the "tiger mom."

That's when I realized, overcoming my emotional weakness was actually simple. As long as I had a son who needed me to protect him, I would forever be that strong mother.

The little girl who didn't know how to grow up had unknowingly turned into a mother.

But now, my son, the one I had raised, was standing in front of me, becoming the one confronting me.

My old weakness returned—my choked-up voice, my reddened eyes, and that pleading tone.

My son paused in his eating, looking up at me with a hint of reluctance in his eyes.

He clicked his tongue, stood up, and went into the kitchen to serve me a bowl of food, placing it in front of me. "Eat it. I think you're starving and losing your mind."

"Don't eat too much. The sound of you vomiting makes me sick."

The next morning, my son left early for his interview.

I put on makeup and spent the whole day on the beach, recording videos in the sunlight.

One for my parents, one for my husband, one for my son, one for my brother, and one for my in-laws.

My parents are in poor health, and I hope my brother can keep the news of my death from them.

If it's impossible to hide it, he can show them these videos.

Their daughter wasn't filial, making them bury a child before they should.

Let them think of me as an ungrateful daughter—it's better than letting them be heartbroken and sorrowful.

I'm grateful that my parents gave birth to two children despite the pressure back then, so they won't end up childless and will have a son to accompany them in their old age.

I thank my brother, and for the next few decades of filial piety, I'll leave it to him and my sister-in-law.

I'm sorry, brother, for not spending more time with you these years due to family matters, and now, at the end, leaving this heavy burden on you.

However, I won't cut back on my parents' pension.

I transferred one million to my sister-in-law's account as the only compensation I can give.

As for my husband, from our relationship to marriage, over twenty years have passed. He has been busy with work and neglected the family, yet he provided us with a good life.

I've blamed him, especially when there were conflicts with my in-laws. He always tried to smooth things over, hoping money would solve everything.

But over the years, he's aged faster than anyone.

He always says that the economic foundation determines the superstructure, and that he has to work hard to give me and our son a better life.

Now, he can finally take a break.

With one less big burden, he can work a little less.

I laughed as I said this, recalling our dating days, and thought to myself that I had lived a happy life.

The video for my in-laws was short, just a simple apology.

The conflicts with them stemmed from differences in values.

My parents' health has been poor, and since my son was born, my in-laws have actually helped quite a bit.

Over the years, my words have become increasingly aggressive, and I've regretted it, but I've never apologized this seriously.

In fact, over time, I've come to treat them like my own parents.

This belated apology could only be made through the screen, as I feared that if I did it face to face, I'd be overwhelmed with tears and wouldn't be able to say anything.

The one I'm most worried about is my son, so I recorded ten videos for him.

One for each of his birthdays, up until he turns 28.

I hope that by then, he will have found a girlfriend and will be starting a new family.

There will be someone else to accompany him, and I thank her. I hope my son can live a wonderful life.

Without me holding him back, Chen Xingyue, you'll definitely live a better life.

Finally, I sent many letters at the time post office.

It felt like I was giving my last words, and I breathed a sigh of relief, only to see my son return with disappointment.

When he saw me, fury shot from his eyes, and his voice trembled as he spoke:

"I didn't get selected, is this what you wanted?"

"The interviewer said I was really good, but I'm too old. If I had gone two years ago, I would have been chosen."

"Jiang Shu, you ruined me, do you know that? You ruined me!"

My son cried uncontrollably in front of me, and I also shed tears.

"I'm sorry, Xingxing, I was wrong."

"It was my narrow-mindedness that harmed you, I'm sorry!"

The emotional turmoil caused excruciating pain throughout my body. I bit my lip and moved toward my son to hug him, but he pushed me away forcefully.

"Go away, stop with the theatrics. Do you think I want your apology?"

"Can an apology turn back time?"

I sat on the ground, unable to get up, wanting to explain but not knowing how to say it.

In the end, it was my extreme actions from years ago that caused all this.

If I had communicated better and encouraged him to balance both gaming and studying, maybe it wouldn't have turned out this way.

Suddenly, someone helped me up from behind, and it was my in-laws.

My mother-in-law, with a satisfied look on her face, tried to comfort me:

"Children grow up, why fight with them?"

"Our Xingxing is so well-behaved, it's you who's been too harsh and interfered with him."

"I heard everything. If it weren't for you, Xingxing might have joined an e-sports team back then and become an international superstar."

My mother-in-law scolded me, then walked over to my son:

"Must have been hard traveling with your mom, huh?"

"Let's go, grandma came specially to take you out."

"Where do you want to go? Grandma will go with you, don't hang out with this old witch."

I kept my head down, grinding my teeth, my chest tight with discomfort.

Over the years, my mother-in-law has always had this attitude, and with her support, my son's behavior has become more and more extreme.

Our mother-son trip lasted only two days before my mother-in-law followed us.

I felt a helplessness I couldn't escape.

Fine, since I'm going to die, my mother-in-law has helped me a lot over the years, and she's too old to change. I'll just leave it at that.

I watched as my in-laws took my son away.

That evening, I saw my son return with a pile of gifts—some for grandpa and grandma, some for my parents and uncles, some for his teachers and classmates.

But there was nothing for me.

To say I wasn't hurt would be a lie.

But looking at his smile, I thought, maybe this is also okay.

In his heart, I'm the bad mom, so at least when I die, he won't be too heartbroken.

At least when I die, he can live well, and take care of himself.

He's right—he still has so many other family members. Losing me won't make a difference.

At this moment, I feel at peace.

After returning home, my son chose to board at school.

He said he didn't want to see me anymore.

Only by boarding, could he completely escape my control over him.

This is also fine, the painkillers' effect is wearing off.

The intense pain has spread from my chest to my stomach, then throughout my body.

If he stayed at home, he would eventually notice something was wrong with me.

With less than 80 days until the college entrance exam, I don't want to affect him, I don't want to ruin his future because of this bad mom.

The day my son left, I gave him strict instructions.

This might be the last time we see each other, and even though he found it annoying, I still wanted him to hear my voice one more time.

"Xingxing, take care of yourself at school, don't stay up too late. Even if the food at the cafeteria isn't good, you have to eat something. Your brain needs the nutrition…"

My words felt endless.

My son rolled his eyes and grabbed my luggage:

"Don't worry, I'll be better without you."

I was choked up, and with a sob, I managed to say my final words:

"Xingxing, you have to take care of yourself. If I'm not around…"

My words were interrupted by my son's cold laugh as he turned to leave:

"Old witch, are you pretending to be a nurse and failing at it? I don't need your care."

"I can take care of myself. Besides, I still have grandpa, grandma, grandpa, and my dad."

"Don't get so full of yourself."

My heart ached, my chest tightened, but I also felt a sense of release.

He still hates me this much.

That's good.

At least when I die, he won't be too sad.

At least when I die, he can live well, and take care of himself.

He's right, he still has so many other relatives. Losing me doesn't matter.

At this moment, I am at peace.

My husband still noticed something was wrong. He forced me to go to the hospital, and that was when I finally smiled and told him the truth—I was going to die.

"Sweetheart, is this just because your son moved to the school dorm and you're feeling empty? Are you joking with me?"

"This joke isn't funny at all. How could you say such a thing? That you're going to die…"

"Didn't we just go on vacation to Hainan together? Is it that bratty son who upset you?"

"Sweetheart, when he finishes the college entrance exams, I'll beat him up for you."

"This boy is getting more and more out of hand."

His voice was trembling with tears because he saw the thick diagnosis report in my hand.

Late-stage breast cancer, already metastasized.

Those few words told him I wasn't lying. I was really going to die.

After crying for a long time, my husband quickly wiped his tears and took 15 days off from work.

"So what if it's late stage? Modern medicine is so advanced, we can definitely cure it."

"Now that we don't have to worry about our son, let's go to Beijing or Shanghai's big hospitals to see!"

"We have money, we're not afraid to spend, we'll definitely cure it!"

I couldn't refuse him and had no choice but to go along with it. But I knew it was all in vain—just a form of comfort for him.

At least he could say he did everything he could, without regrets.

That day, my husband drove me to Shanghai. To our surprise, we ran into my in-laws who were on vacation.

They had heard the news and cut their trip short to come.

My mother-in-law, tearfully, looked at me and apologized, "Did I upset you all these years?"

"How did you end up with late-stage breast cancer out of the blue?"

"It's all my fault, arguing with younger ones when I'm so old!"

My father-in-law, red-faced, also tried to comfort me, "So what if it's late stage? I've got millions saved up, we can definitely treat it!"

I nodded and tried to smile, but tears wouldn't stop.

What happened? I thought my condition of incontinence had long been gone, but now with cancer, it seemed to have come back.

"Mom, Dad, thank you for everything."

My voice was muffled with tears, but they too had red eyes.

"Starry's exam is coming up, let's keep it from him."

"If the treatment doesn't work, don't be too sad. Think about it, when I went against you all those years, weren't we able to handle it?"

They didn't reply until my husband returned with tickets for a scalper, and I saw my mother-in-law turn her back to wipe her tears.

The treatment didn't go smoothly.

The doctor shook his head after reviewing my scans, saying surgery was unnecessary and that the best we could do was chemotherapy to extend my life a little longer.

Chemotherapy was painful, and losing my hair made me look awful. Without hair, I didn't even recognize myself.

But my husband insisted on me starting chemotherapy.

At that moment, I could understand my son's feelings.

Being forced to do something you don't want to do is such a helpless feeling. No wonder my son rebelled.

I, in my 40s, had started to feel the urge to rebel.

The days of chemotherapy were incredibly difficult.

My husband extended his time off more than I'd ever expected, taking more days off than he had in the past 20 years combined.

I didn't want him to suffer, so I endured the pain, trying to smile.

"Haha, sweetheart, you're a genius. The chemo is working. The doctor said I wouldn't survive past a month."

"Look, now it's been two months, and I'm still here."

He didn't speak, just held me tightly, his forehead damp. We didn't talk anymore.

Despite the chemo working somewhat, the cancer had already spread throughout my body.

Lumps had started appearing all over—my feet, my head…

I had shaved my head, and now I looked like a monster.

But my husband didn't mind. He stayed with me while I shaved my head.

"See, now I don't need to dye my hair anymore."

"Does this look more like a coder, right, darling?"

I nodded, then had him set up the phone to record a video.

Every day, my husband filmed me, saying it would be a surprise for the family.

He didn't know that I'd already recorded a video in Hainan.

But I still had a lot more to say to them.

And honestly, videos are never enough.

This was my legacy, my way of staying alive. Even if I passed, they would remember me, watch my videos, think of me… and that was okay.

"Today, I feel especially good. Honey, do you think it could be a brief period of recovery?"

I let the camera shake and told him to keep filming.

"Right now, I look like the 'old witch' my son called me."

"I should've put on makeup and worn a witch's hat."

I coughed heavily and spat out blood. The video abruptly stopped.

I looked at my husband apologetically, knowing that since I got sick, he had aged quite a bit.

I knew he was hurting, but to reassure me, he didn't say a word.

That's why, initially, I wanted to pass away quietly and not tell anyone.

There was no cure for me anyway. Rather than have everyone watch me die slowly, it seemed easier to just let them learn about my death all at once.

But unfortunately, he was too smart, too sensitive.

After a long while, I asked him to take the phone and record me once again. But I hadn't put on a wig, and my shiny bald head looked just like Voldemort.

"Son, by the time you see this video, you should have finished your college entrance exams, right?"

"I bet I know what you'll say…"

"Yeah… 'Where's that old witch? Let me show her how well I've done.'"

I imagined my son's confident expression after his exams and couldn't help but smile.

"Too bad I look more like Voldemort now. You'll need to change the nickname."

Then, I placed my hand on my bald head and squeezed my palm tightly.

The pain was unbearable.

Was my brief recovery fading already?

I wanted to properly say goodbye to my husband, to everyone…

"Actually, what I want most is to hear you call me 'Mom.'"

"I never heard you call me that properly. When I'm gone, you'll never have the chance to."

I closed my eyes, curling up as my husband stopped recording.

"Sweetheart, after the exams, take him to see my parents. Don't let them hear the news of my death."

"When he goes to college, find someone else and remarry."

"You're still so young, with your looks and your salary—you're a diamond bachelor."

"I have no regrets in this life. My husband stayed with me until the very end. My parents are taken care of by my brother. My son doesn't like me, and he won't be too sad after I'm gone. It's all good. Really, it's all good."

Maybe it was because my mom had given him so much freedom before, but this time, Chen Xingyue did unexpectedly well on his exams.

When he came out of the exam hall, he looked around for his parents but only saw his dad, who looked ten years older and was bald.

His heart sank, and he ran up to his dad, searching again.

"Dad, I did great this time! I might be able to get into Qingbei!"

"Where's Mom? Let her see how well her son did!"

"She kept on nagging me about studying. Now, there's nothing left to say, right?"

Chen Yu didn't answer. He patted his shoulder and handed him a phone.

Chen Xingyue frowned but didn't take it. "Dad, is Mom still making a scene? The exams are over, and she's still not showing up?"

"I'll apologize to her. I was rude before."

"Quick, call her. We were supposed to go out and celebrate today. I'm going to make sure she treats me well!"

Chen Xingyue's words were getting faster, and the phone in front of him felt like a hot potato he didn't want to touch.

His hands trembled as he finally took the phone from his father's hand.

He glanced at his father's eyes, feeling unease in his chest.

"Look, this is what your mom left for you."

"After you watch it, go light some incense for her. She's been waiting for you to call her 'Mom.'"

"You really are a knife-tongued but soft-hearted kid."

"I wish you could have handed this to her in person, but she didn't wait."

The 18-year-old boy, standing outside the exam hall, started crying loudly, repeatedly saying, "Mom, I'm sorry."

Epilogue

I'm Chen Xingyue, a rebellious kid pretending to be tough.

When my mom said she was going to take me to Hainan, I was secretly thrilled.

It wasn't because of the esports interview, but because I could finally spend time alone with her.

But I kept it to myself.

Grandma often monitored me through cameras, and if I showed kindness to my mom, she'd get upset.

She never knew that I had already grown up.

I had already understood that everything my mom did was for my own good.

But I had to pretend.

Since childhood, Grandma had instilled a lot of bad things about my mom. It wasn't until the time I got hospitalized after eating crabs that I realized Grandma was deliberately sowing discord.

I apologized to my mom that night, and soon after, Grandma showed up at our house.

That's when I discovered she had installed surveillance cameras in our home, monitoring our lives.

So, I had to limit my conversations with my mom, keeping things to a minimum so that Grandma wouldn't interfere.

That's when I started my six-year-long rebellious phase.

On the plane to Hainan, I couldn't sleep, secretly watching my mom.

But then I heard some shocking news.

My mom had cancer. She said she had less than three months to live.

How could this be?

She was always so strong, like an ox!

She had breast cancer, and I wondered if it was because of the years of tension between us.

At that moment, guilt overwhelmed me.

But I couldn't let her know that I knew.

She didn't want me to find out, so I acted like nothing had changed, keeping my cold attitude toward her.

Every time I called her "old witch," I silently apologized in my heart.

This trip was the only time without Grandma's surveillance, so I made a promise to myself to treat her better.

But reality was far worse than I imagined.

I couldn't let my mom know my change in attitude, so I kept hurting her.

After we got off the plane, my mom took me to a seafood restaurant.

I was afraid she would order cheaper dishes just for me, so I snatched the menu and ordered her favorite dishes, quietly watching her eat.

I couldn't eat seafood because I was allergic, but seeing my mom enjoy it made me happy.

But my mom, for some reason, seemed to want me to eat seafood too.

She took out a box of anti-allergy medicine, and I realized that her real wish was for me to enjoy a seafood meal with her.

That's fine.

I ate heartily, although I couldn't usually eat it.

Unexpectedly, I didn't have an allergic reaction, but my mom turned pale and started vomiting.

I saw a hint of blood at the corner of her mouth, and my heart raced.

Was she really going to die? No, it couldn't be. It was just cancer, right?

As long as I wasn't at home, she could go for treatment.

She must be hiding her condition from me, not wanting to affect my studies.

How painful was it for her to hold back all that nausea?

I quickly stood up, grabbed my luggage, and left.

Without me around, she could finally vomit freely.

Sure enough, she ran out of the restaurant and threw up for a long time.

I hid behind a tree, trembling all over.

The blood on the ground was a harsh reminder—my mom was dying.

I wanted to cry, but I was a man, and I shouldn't be weak.

When I saw my mom sit on the ground, resting for a long time, I quickly called a cab to our accommodation.

Her stomach must have been hurting from throwing up so much. I should make her some porridge when she returned to help her recover.

I'm such an idiot. I couldn't even make porridge properly!

The recipe video made it look so easy, but I messed it up.

When I was at a loss, my mom came back.

She was going to teach me how to cook, but I didn't want to learn.

I wanted her to cook for me forever. I didn't want her to die!

I heard her recording a video, and I hid in the room, crying for a long time.

How could I be like this?

What did I do wrong?

I didn't go for the esports interview; instead, I spent the whole day by the sea with my mom.

She was feeling okay that day and recorded videos all day.

I was afraid she'd notice me, so I kept my distance and didn't listen to what she said.

When she finished at the time post office, I dared to approach.

Seeing her pale face, I wanted to tell her that I was going to focus on my studies for the high school entrance exam and give myself a good future.

"Mom, don't worry. Your son will make you proud."

But then I saw Grandma in the distance.

All the hateful words I had been forced to say came out again.

I saw the shock and relief in my mom's eyes. It hurt so much.

"Mom, I'm such a jerk."

"Wait for me to finish the exams, and then we'll go for treatment together. We'll be fine. We'll live long and happily."

I spent all my money buying a gold bracelet for my mom.

She'd always wanted one, but as gold prices kept rising, she couldn't bear to buy it.

I wasn't sure if she would like the one I picked, considering how clueless I am about these things.

But Grandma kept following me, and I never had the chance to give it to her.

I saw disappointment in my mom's eyes. She kept fondling the bracelet in my pocket.

I was afraid I'd give in and take it out.

Fortunately, Grandma took me back home early, and we had to cut the Hainan trip short.

I was relieved and suggested to live on campus.

This way, my mom could focus on her treatment.

Who said cancer in the late stage couldn't be cured? Medicine is so advanced nowadays. My mom can't be so unlucky that it can't be treated!

I worked hard at school, not only for myself but for my mom too.

My grades improved quickly, and I asked my teacher to call my mom with good news.

But when I picked up the phone, I heard the beeping sound.

My mom was at the hospital?

That's great. I was afraid she'd suffer in silence without treatment.

Now I felt relieved.

After the exams, I'd give her the best gift—along with the gold bracelet hidden under the bed.

I could already imagine her face when she saw it.

With that thought, I worked even harder.

When I didn't see my mom after the high school exams, I felt my body shaking.

My dad, who never smoked, was chain-smoking.

I couldn't believe it.

How could it happen so quickly?

People with cancer usually live for several years, right?

But it had only been three months!!!

My dad opened the video, and I saw my mom smiling in the video. I broke down crying.

How could I have been like this?!

Mom, I'm sorry!!!

I'm so sorry, Mom!!!

(End of story)

Last Chapter Next Chapter