31. Cousin in the Mirror
This was Li An’s first time taking a taxi in Rongcheng.
Leaning back against the soft seat, an intense exhaustion seeped through his entire body. He shifted against the backrest, seeking a comfortable position, hands resting carelessly beside his legs.
He turned his head, letting his gaze drift out the window.
The bustling avenue outside was a cacophony—wheels spinning, people talking, neon lights flickering by the roadside. It stood in stark contrast to the quiet inside the car.
Separated by a single pane of glass, it felt like two different worlds.
“A new round of heavy rainfall will arrive next week. We advise all residents to…”
As the broadcast played in his ear, the fleeting cityscape outside seemed, in a flash, to transport Li An back to a vaguely familiar scene.
He felt as if he’d seen this moment before.
His mind grew hazier and hazier.
Finally, his eyelids shut uncontrollably.
“Breaking news: A new round of heavy rainfall will arrive next week. We advise all residents to take personal precautions and avoid loss of life and property…”
…
…
Hmm—
On the sofa, Sun Yuman let out a long breath.
After hearing Chen Xuan’s story, she finally felt at ease enough to enjoy her watermelon.
It wasn’t anything serious—Xiaomi just missed her mother a bit.
It was understandable. Except for those four years of college, Chen Xuan had never been away from her mother for so long.
When Chen Xuan suddenly told Sun Yuman over the phone at the beginning of the year that she was coming to Rongcheng, Sun Yuman immediately assumed she was coming for a visit and was overjoyed.
Only after a chat did she realize that the conflict between Chen Xuan and her family had escalated completely, and now Chen Xuan was fleeing to her.
While Sun Yuman admired Chen Xuan’s courage, she felt she had to clarify things.
She knew Chen Xuan’s family background: father a civil servant, mother a doctor—not quite middle class, but comfortable and well-off by local standards.
In her sophomore year, Chen Xuan had told her family she wanted to study abroad after graduation.
Her father didn’t immediately refuse, but used the excuse of unstable conditions abroad to stall her for two years.
After graduation, when Chen Xuan brought it up again, her father told her it was out of the question.
“If you want to study, pursue your graduate degree in China.”
“If you don’t, take the civil service exam.”
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Faced with her father’s resolute attitude, Chen Xuan could only pin her last hopes on him.
But her mother’s stance was, “Listen to your father.”
Thus, the conflict erupted.
Chen Xuan felt like a puppet whose fate had been predetermined since birth.
Whom she could play with in kindergarten, whom she couldn’t, was never her decision.
Look at your cousin!
She wanted to learn violin in elementary school, not the flute—but it wasn’t up to her.
Look at your cousin!
She wanted to stay in Class Two in junior high, not transfer to Class Four—but it wasn’t up to her.
Look at your cousin!
She wanted to walk home with classmates after school in high school, not have family pick her up at the gate—but it wasn’t up to her.
Look at your cousin!
She wanted to apply to universities in the south, not in the north—but it wasn’t up to her.
Look at your cousin!
She wanted to study abroad after graduation to avoid future regrets—but it wasn’t up to her.
Look at your cousin!
Chen Xuan adored her gentle and kind cousin. Before college, her cousin had been her best friend, but she could sense her cousin was not happy either.
Her cousin, after graduation, obeyed the family’s wishes, put away the flute, and gave Mendelssohn’s scores to Chen Xuan, then a sophomore in high school.
Back then, Chen Xuan’s dream was to play Mendelssohn’s E-flat minor violin concerto—a childhood regret.
Her cousin went on to pass the civil service exam, eventually marrying into a distinguished family, envied by all their relatives and friends.
Now, she had matured, shed her innocence, and could skillfully play every bar of Mendelssohn.
Finally, Chen Xuan reached her cousin’s age at graduation.
Yet her cousin hadn’t played Mendelssohn for a long time.
There was a kind of bone-deep helplessness, and Chen Xuan thought this must be the fate of being born into this family.
Unwilling to upset her parents, she put away her own flute and prepared for the civil service exam.
Everything went smoothly at first.
Until the day she attended her cousin’s child’s one-month celebration, and learned her cousin was quitting her job to become a housewife.
She looked at the family’s smiling faces, then at her cousin, who had gained weight and was calmly breastfeeding her child.
In that moment, a suffocating sense of despair enveloped her.
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The gentle cousin who had accompanied her throughout childhood seemed to die in her heart at that instant.
A darkness swept over her; it was as if she’d glimpsed her own future in her cousin’s mirror.
“Look at your cousin. She has a child now.”
That was perhaps the final straw. After her first failed civil service exam, there was no comfort waiting for Chen Xuan.
The emotions pent up for twenty-three years finally exploded.
The conflict escalated.
Faced again with her father’s two options, this time Chen Xuan resolutely chose the second.
With only eight thousand yuan to her name, she left home.
She wanted to prove to her father that she could survive outside the family.
On her first day in Rongcheng, Sun Yuman hauled her suitcase to the apartment she now lived in and handed her a room card.
On her eighth day in Rongcheng, she entered the west office of Blue Sky East Campus—she was even less comfortable.
On her tenth day, a piano teacher arrived and sat opposite her in the west office—she was even more uncomfortable.
Now that she had been in Rongcheng for three months, she understood how hard it was to live alone, away from her family.
But she liked her life more and more—not just because she could breathe freely every day.
She just missed her mother often.
Tonight, Chen Xuan called Sun Yuman because after talking to her mother on the phone, she felt a pang of homesickness.
For now, apart from Sun Yuman, she didn’t know who else in Rongcheng she could confide in about these things.
“I thought it was something big—travel is so easy nowadays, just a plane ticket.”
Sun Yuman scooped a chunk of watermelon from the coffee table and stuffed it into her mouth. “But really, Xiaomi, do you never plan to go home again?”
Despite Sun Yuman’s usual carefree manner, she never minced words about important matters. “Even if you stay away in the future, you’ll still have to resolve these family issues.”
Chen Xuan sighed softly. “I understand their perspective, but I really don’t think that’s what’s best for me. My dad’s used to being forceful at work, and he’s the same with family—he never considers what my mom and I think.”
“My mom just told me on the phone that my dad misses me.”
“If he really misses me, why doesn’t he call me himself? Even a simple message would do. In the three months I’ve been in Rongcheng, it’s always been me who reaches out. Has he ever sent me a message first?”
“I know he’s convinced that I’ll eventually just bow my head and go back home.”
“I’ve already decided to live my own life. No matter where I end up, when I’m able to prove to them that I can support myself, I’ll explain everything.”
As she spoke, Chen Xuan looked to Sun Yuman for help, her eyes a little aggrieved. “Xiao Yu, do you think I’m being immature?”
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