"Just got here." Chen Yi shrugged, his gleaming eyes seeming to hold a deeper meaning. "Afraid my dad might not make it through these next few days, so I came early to fulfill my filial duties."
In the morning, doctors and nurses came for rounds and to change dressings. After checking Chen Libin's condition and asking about the patient, Wei Mingzhen said there was no movement at all. The doctor shook his head and sighed. Later, Miao Jing also came to the hospital. She saw Chen Yi and Wei Mingzhen sitting far apart in the hospital room, both expressionless. She was carrying a box of peeled fruit, wearing a white dress with light green patterns, her cheeks flushed from the sun, her delicate brows and eyes softened by the heat. She distributed the fruit to the two sitting there.
"Mom."
"Brother."
Biting into the cool, sweet fruit, Miao Jing sat close to Wei Mingzhen, who nervously held one of her hands, seemingly intentionally avoiding Chen Yi's gaze.
Chen Libin didn't last more than a few days.
His coma worsened day by day—respiratory failure, dilated pupils, cardiac arrest—until the hospital officially declared his death.
The process from hospital to funeral home to cemetery moved quickly. Wei Mingzhen busied herself with arrangements: settling hospital bills, organizing the funeral, notifying Chen Libin's workplace and relatives. Chen Yi and Miao Jing kept vigil over Chen Libin's body, following from the hospital to the funeral home to the burial, receiving the stream of people who came to offer condolences.
Chen Yi wore mourning clothes, held the funeral portrait, and kept his head bowed. He appeared somber and gaunt, his striking features and unconventional hair color giving him a cold, rebellious resilience. With both parents gone, the Chen family now consisted only of a sixteen-year-old son and an unrelated mother-daughter pair. There was no shortage of private discussions: How would this family manage in the future? What would become of Chen Yi?
After the funeral arrangements were completed, Chen Yi returned home with Wei Mingzhen and Miao Jing. Wei Mingzhen became the head of the household, her demeanor exceptionally gentle and soft when dealing with people. Chen Libin's belongings left at home and his workplace needed to be dealt with. She cautiously sought Chen Yi's opinion, but he showed no attachment—items were either discarded or given away, even the computer was given to someone else.
Before Wei Mingzhen could properly consider how the family would live going forward—Chen Yi seemed to have shed his playful, unrestrained nature. He stayed home every day smoking, filling the house with haze. Occasionally he went out, but he always returned by climbing through the window at night, sleeping on the sofa.
Chen Yi hadn't properly come home for years. Suddenly having this little ruffian around was uncomfortable. Wei Mingzhen couldn't kick him out, but waking up every morning to see someone sprawled on the sofa—Wei Mingzhen had her own misgivings, too apprehensive to offer him a room, afraid he would settle in permanently—his dark, cold eyes would occasionally land on her back, sending chills down her spine.
On the surface, the three maintained harmony, but beneath the calm waters, undercurrents swirled, hiding who knows how many ulterior motives.
Miao Jing faintly sensed the family's atmosphere was the eerie calm before a storm.
Then one noon, Chen Yi returned from outside and saw the mother and daughter eating lunch at the dining table. He leisurely pulled out a chair, lit a cigarette with a frivolous air, tilted his chin up, and asked Wei Mingzhen, "Has the money all been transferred?"
Miao Jing paused her chopsticks, looking at her mother, then at Chen Yi. Wei Mingzhen's expression stiffened: "What money?""My dad's insurance payout and death benefits." Chen Yi counted on his fingers, his tone utterly unyielding. "It's been so long, and you haven't mentioned a single word about it?"
Wei Mingzhen had been busy with these matters lately. The power company was a well-established employer, and the death benefits and insurance money amounted to a substantial sum.
Wei Mingzhen clenched her teeth, her face pale and strained. After hesitating for a long time, she said, "The money... the money hasn't arrived yet... It's meant for your education and living expenses..."
Chen Yi's smile was icy. "How long were you married to my dad? Not that long, right? You couldn't have children before, so he kept delaying the marriage registration. Was it only in the last year or two that you finally registered? Why then? So you could claim a share of the assets and leave? Now that he's dead, you're occupying the house and planning to pocket the money too?"
His slender fingers tapped rhythmically on the dining table, his gaze dark and menacing, his tone fierce: "I want his death benefits."
"The rest of the money can go to you." He flashed another smile. "No one loses out."
"What other money is left in this house?" The words struck a nerve, and Wei Mingzhen's voice suddenly rose to a sharp, shrill pitch, her eyes filled with resentment. "Chen Libin claimed the family had eight or nine hundred thousand in savings, that he'd made over a million from stocks—all fucking lies, lies! That bastard showed me fake bank statements. He lost everything, and what little remained he sent to those random women online, transferring thousands at a time. When I asked him for money, he was stingy—no, not stingy, he simply had nothing left!"
Wei Mingzhen was secretly consumed with rage. She had combed through every one of Chen Libin's accounts, turned everything upside down, but found no trace of that one or two million. She refused to believe it, checking over and over, only to find the scattered balances in his cards added up to just a few thousand. After deducting hospitalization and funeral expenses, there was nothing left. Now, her only hope was the death compensation—tens of thousands! Six years wasted on Chen Libin—washing his clothes, cooking his meals, obeying his every whim—only to find he was a penniless liar who had deceived her for six years. He deserved to die.
Only if she could keep this house and get the compensation money would Wei Mingzhen feel she could barely swallow her anger. If Chen Yi fought her for it, how could she tolerate it? What right did he have to claim the money? The father and son were at odds like this—he was a bastard, not even biologically related. What right did he have to this money?!
Wei Mingzhen's face was ashen, the muscles in her cheeks twitching as she struggled to contain herself. Miao Jing shrank in her chair, her head bowed low, trying to make herself invisible. Chen Yi looked at the mother and daughter, couldn't help but burst into laughter, clutching his stomach and laughing until tears streamed down his face.
Who knew if he was laughing at their foolishness or their pitiful state.
"So this is all that's left?" His young face wore a roguish, savage smile. "The house is yours. The money is mine."
"The money hasn't arrived yet—there's not even a shadow of it." Wei Mingzhen shot to her feet, her face flushed red, her entire body trembling. "This money... this money is for education, for living... life has to go on..."
"Then we'll wait for the money to arrive. But if you dare to take it all for yourself or try to run off with it..." He fixed his gaze on Wei Mingzhen, his eyes dark and predatory, like a bottomless pit. "I'll expose everything you've done... and make your life a living hell."
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