Chapter Thirty-Eight: Home

Meimei Lu said she wanted to take Maomao home, but it wasn’t as simple as leaving immediately. She had to request leave from work, and the journey needed to be planned.

“We came here by long-distance bus, so let’s take the bus back together,” Meimei Lu said, rubbing Maomao’s ears with a smile.

Hai Zhou volunteered, “I’ll drive you back. That way, we’ll have more freedom with the schedule. Weren’t we planning a road trip anyway?”

Meimei Lu hesitated. “Originally, we planned to travel during Golden Week. Now I need to ask for leave, and I’m not sure how long it’ll take. My hometown is poor, there’s not much to see or do.”

“It’s fine. I can switch shifts with my colleague. He was supposed to be on duty during the holiday, but I’ll talk to him. There’s extra overtime pay during holidays anyway,” Hai Zhou said, smiling as he played with Maomao. “Maomao, should I go with you two?”

Maomao fluttered his eyelids and didn’t answer.

Meimei Lu remembered the day she left her hometown. She had tucked Maomao into her down jacket, feeling a warm presence throughout the journey. Because Maomao was with her, even waiting alone by the bus station, she didn’t feel lonely.

Back at school, she threw herself into her graduate exam preparations. Every time she looked up from her desk lamp’s bright glow, she’d see Maomao quietly sprawled across a pile of books.

Gradually, she forgot her hometown, her parents, and all those unhappy memories.

Later, through Maomao’s illness, she met Ai Chi. Ai Chi, two years her senior, took great care of her. Being a local, Ai Chi helped her find a cheap place to rent as she approached graduation.

Through Ai Chi, she met Hai Zhou, had her first romance, her first crush, and for the first time wanted to introduce someone to Maomao.

Were they now going to return home together?

Meimei Lu looked at Maomao.

Maomao climbed onto Meimei Lu’s lap, nuzzling her hand.

“Alright. Let’s go back together,” Meimei Lu said, smiling as she turned to Hai Zhou. “I wonder if Maomao’s old cat bed is still there. I’ll show it to you when we get there.”

“Sure,” he replied.

…

Inside the dark TV room, the phone glowed.

The doctor lounged sloppily in a beanbag chair, legs crossed, head propped on hand, watching a video on his phone.

The camera hovered above Maomao, capturing him bathed in sunlight, scampering down a stone path, paws pattering. Two shadows fell beside him, a man and a woman, flanking him. The background wasn’t filled with cliché music, but rather Meimei Lu’s narration:

“…This used to be a field ridge. It’s here I first met Maomao. I don’t know how he ended up in the grass. Just a bit further ahead is his cat bed. His mother was a grey tabby, too. Among his siblings, only he was grey; the others were either calico or white.”

Maomao stopped at the edge of the stone path, sniffing the grass and the yellow earth.

“That area used to be either greenhouses or ordinary fields. I forget what was grown… Maomao would sneak in to catch little birds.”

As she spoke, her shadow stretched out an arm, pointing toward the neat greenhouses in the distance.

Maomao raised his neck, seeming to follow the direction of her finger. After a moment, he scampered ahead again.

“The woods are still here. Beyond that hill is the village cemetery,” Meimei Lu followed Maomao’s steps. “Maomao used to live in the woods. There’s a tree, its roots above ground, forming a natural little cave. He made his nest there. I bought him several cat beds. Each time I came home from school, I’d bring him a new one.”

A middle-aged couple approached on the stone path. They seemed to recognize Meimei Lu and Hai Zhou, smiled, and greeted them: “Young people, here for a visit? The village is relocating graves right now, so the farm stay is temporarily closed.”

Meimei Lu’s shadow paused.

Maomao stopped too, turning to gaze at the doctor, as if looking out from the screen.

The doctor’s sapphire eyes narrowed.

The camera zoomed in, enlarging Maomao’s figure and his shadow.

The shadow drifted strangely, as if a breeze swept the ground—not moving Maomao’s fur, but stirring his shadow. It felt as though something invisible was shifting within Maomao, reflected in the shadow.

“We’re here for the grave relocation,” Hai Zhou answered for Meimei Lu.

“Which family are you from?” the couple asked, puzzled.

Off-screen, Hai Zhou’s voice: “My girlfriend is the granddaughter of Guixiang Lu.”

The shadow’s movement grew more intense. The camera followed as something seemed to float from Maomao, carried by the wind to Hai Zhou’s shadow.

A cloud drifted overhead, casting a massive shadow on the stone path.

In that instant, Maomao’s shadow swelled, expanding dozens of times, splitting open with a gaping maw that bit down on Hai Zhou’s shadow.

“Meow!” Maomao suddenly cried.

Meimei Lu said, “Maomao’s urging us. Let’s go.”

---

The camera pulled back further, showing Meimei Lu and Hai Zhou’s backs in the frame.

Hai Zhou nodded to the couple, walked side by side with Meimei Lu, passing them.

The couple watched them leave, twisting their heads.

“How does Guixiang Lu have another granddaughter? Wasn’t the one we just met…”

“The younger one, I think.”

“Oh? The younger one? Isn’t that…”

Their whispers faded behind the camera.

On screen, Hai Zhou put his arm around Meimei Lu’s shoulders. Maomao stopped, lifting his neck to look at Meimei Lu.

“Don’t you want to ask anything?” Meimei Lu softly inquired.

“Ask what? If you want to tell me, you will. I’m dating you, not your hometown,” Hai Zhou joked. “I’ve known your parents passed away, and you have no other relatives. That’s enough. Oh, wait!” He suddenly turned serious, glancing at Maomao on the ground. “I’ve got a little rival here, haven’t I, Maomao?”

Maomao’s tail curled around Meimei Lu’s ankle.

As the cloud drifted away, his emerald eyes sparkled in the sunlight.

Meimei Lu lowered her head too, smiling at Maomao. “Come on, Maomao, you lead the way.”

Maomao glanced at Meimei Lu, his gaze sweeping over Hai Zhou. He released Meimei Lu’s ankle and scampered ahead again.

The doctor’s fingers tapped the phone’s edge. The smiley face painted on his nail turned into a crying face, looking up at him with pitiful whimpers.

The tapping stopped abruptly.

The doctor turned his head toward the darkness.

Faint voices grew louder from the shadows:

“…Almost ready. Go invite the doctor to eat.”

“Just pack some food for him. He always refuses to eat with us.”

“Come on, go invite him.”

“Alright… Hey, have you seen a young man? Tall, energetic. He runs a pet shop. He’s the one who introduced me to the monster clinic, said he’d visited the doctor here.”

“No, I’ve only met the one you brought. Maybe I missed him while in the ward.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t change the subject, go invite the doctor. Really… You’re still sulking with him? He never took it seriously.”

“It’s not that… I’ll go invite him.”

“Hurry up.”

The face on the nail edged toward the side, as if whispering.

The doctor put down his phone.

Footsteps sounded in the dark room, and a door appeared out of nowhere.

He opened it and saw the clinic’s light.

---

The village’s grave relocation actually began a month prior. The hill’s mounds had been emptied, leaving behind messy heaps of earth and abandoned tombstones lying askew.

In such a scene, the tomb of Guixiang Lu and his wife, once covered in weeds, now stood out starkly, conspicuous atop the hill.

Meimei Lu saw it first. After skirting some pits and stones, she noticed someone squatting in front of the tomb.

Hai Zhou glanced at the inscription, then at the recently burnt offerings and the bucket and cloth used to clean the stone, finally resting his gaze on Meimei Lu.

He’d assumed Meimei Lu had no family left. Why was someone paying respects at her grandparents’ grave? A village committee member?

Meimei Lu’s gaze wandered, her expression dazed. For a moment, she forgot Hai Zhou beside her and Maomao at her feet.

Maomao leapt onto the stacked tombstones, tail upright, back arched, a slit pupil gleaming in his emerald eyes. His tail puffed up, and a sharp, bird-like beak poked through his fur.

The person at the tomb turned at the sound of footsteps, revealing a face much like Meimei Lu’s.

---

Hai Zhou looked at the two women. Though different in age and temperament, both had the same smiling eyes.

“Hello. Are you Mr. Guixiang Lu’s…” Hai Zhou broke the silence.

The woman looked at Hai Zhou and slowly stood up. Perhaps from squatting too long, she wobbled, steadied herself with the tombstone, then stood firm.

“I am Guixiang Lu’s granddaughter,” she said, glancing at Meimei Lu and adding, “the elder granddaughter.”

Meimei Lu snapped from her daze and introduced her to Hai Zhou, “This is… my cousin…”

The woman’s expression was stiff; she didn’t greet them.

Meimei Lu fell into the same silence and rigidity, not introducing Hai Zhou to her cousin either.

Hai Zhou was unfazed. He introduced himself, “Oh, hello. I’m Hai Zhou, Meimei’s boyfriend.”

Her cousin nodded, counting it as a greeting. She looked at Meimei Lu, locking eyes.

Meimei Lu remembered the last time she really looked at her cousin. Back then, she was a teenager, just starting work, still between innocence and maturity, her smile bright, her voice lively like a cheerful swallow.

Her cousin hadn’t gotten into high school but attended a vocational school in the city. After graduation, she stayed in the city for work. The year she entered vocational school, her uncle and aunt carried heavy bags, saw her off a thousand miles, settled her in the dorm, then reluctantly returned. When she graduated, found a job, and secured housing, her uncle and aunt came at dawn to help move and tidy up, returning only after dark.

That New Year, her cousin stayed at the factory for overtime and didn’t come home for the holiday. All through the festival, her aunt gave Meimei Lu the cold shoulder and sharp words. When her cousin returned in April, Meimei Lu found her changed. That was the last time she really looked at her cousin.

The two sisters, no longer locked in childhood rivalry, neither directly confronting each other nor close.

Meimei Lu observed her cousin, and her cousin observed her.

Compared to strangers meeting for the first time, their eyes held comparison and memory; compared to family reunited after years, they lacked excitement and warmth.

Hai Zhou seemed oblivious to their awkwardness and asked politely, “Did you come early? We didn’t prepare much, so luckily you brought offerings and cleaning supplies. There’s no candle shop in the village—I was wondering what to do…”

Her cousin glanced at Hai Zhou. “My husband thought of it. I came empty-handed.”

Hai Zhou’s words were cut off. He wasn’t offended by her blunt tone, smiled, and tried to call her “brother-in-law,” but his lips formed the sound without speaking. He glanced at Meimei Lu, a hint of hesitation in his eyes.

Her cousin ignored Hai Zhou and spoke directly to Meimei Lu, “The new village chief should have told you. My father had lung cancer, passed away long ago. Now, among the Lus, it’s just you and me.”

Meimei Lu didn’t react.

Her cousin suddenly laughed. “You never met Grandpa and Grandma. They didn’t like my mother. Of course, they didn’t like yours either. Before your mom married in, mine was already being tormented. She was frail, malnourished, had trouble conceiving, finally had me. They didn’t like us; my father was caught in the middle, muddling through… Before I came here, my mom got angry, told me not to bother with these old folks. Ha…”

Suddenly, Meimei Lu felt disinterested and wanted to leave. She instinctively grabbed Hai Zhou’s hand and looked down for Maomao.

Maomao had vanished.

“This should be our last meeting…” her cousin sighed. “I didn’t like you when we were young, often bullied you. I didn’t think much back then, just bullied you for the sake of it. Recently, I read my son’s essay—he wrote, ‘wielding a knife at the weaker.’ That’s how my mom and I used to be…”

Hai Zhou held Meimei Lu’s hand.

She looked at her cousin, stopping her search for Maomao. She sensed her cousin was about to say something different.

“There are some things perhaps no one ever told you. I can only share what I know…” Her cousin paused, lowered her eyes, and glanced at the tombstone behind her. “When I was born, your parents weren’t married yet. You saw the family situation as a child. Grandpa and Grandma weren’t well-off. My father and yours… There were supposed to be four siblings, with an older brother and a younger sister, but those two didn’t survive to school age, both died of illness. My mom told me this recently. Of the brothers, only one could go to school. My dad stayed home to work, supporting your dad’s education.”

Meimei Lu was stunned.

“Your father was diligent, not only went to high school but got into college. For his four years at university, Grandpa and Grandma borrowed from many villagers to support him in the city. The family tightened their belts, afraid he’d suffer alone in the city. My mom married in early on… At first, Grandpa and Grandma liked her, thought she was hardworking and could manage the household…”

Meimei Lu clenched her teeth, staring blankly at her cousin.

Her cousin continued in an even tone, “After college, your dad stayed in the city, worked in a factory, had an office job. Grandpa, Grandma, and my parents were proud of him. They hoped he’d succeed and help the family, maybe build a new house, or bring them into the city. But for years, your dad only sent money, helped with expenses, but couldn’t build a new house or move them to the city. That was fine… When I was nearly five, your dad brought your mom home. Your mom’s family was rural too but better off. She was educated, worked in the factory—they met there. They got married without telling anyone, even got an apartment through work. Grandpa and Grandma were furious, always looked down on your mom afterward. Grandma’s favorite saying was, ‘I only saw the city house for two nights, but that old hag stayed for years.’ The ‘old hag’ was your maternal grandmother.”

Meimei Lu felt the term utterly foreign.

“To be honest, your grandma probably stayed at your house those years to help care for your pregnant mom and you. Grandma wouldn’t look after your mom. But all these things left thorns in both sides’ hearts,” her cousin finally sighed.

She quickly changed tone. “Oh, and about Grandpa’s death. When he died, my father asked villagers to fetch your dad from the city. He wasn’t home, so they went to his workplace, and learned your parents were on a company trip. When they finally reached your dad, he hurried back, but Grandpa’s body couldn’t wait and was already buried. Grandma made your parents kneel at the grave. There’s a difference between son and daughter-in-law. She gave your dad a cushion, but made your mom kneel on the ground, gave food and water sparingly, favoring your dad, withholding from your mom. Grandpa tried to help, but Grandma threw herself on the ground, wailing, impossible to stop. Grandpa could only sneak food and drink to your mom. She fell seriously ill, never returned for New Year, never brought you to the village. I heard she was pregnant then, nearly lost the baby, and after you were born, her health never recovered—all because of that incident.”

Her cousin laughed, “Doesn’t it sound like a third-rate TV melodrama about mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law? But it’s all true… My… our family… is just like this…”

Her cousin’s words faded into the silence atop the hill.