I Conformed to His Expectations

That evening, Chu Heng dropped me off at my former apartment.

After I turned eighteen, my parents kicked me out, and I had no choice but to live alone in this old, shabby place.

The hallway light had been broken for ages.

I used to be afraid of the dark, but having faced far scarier things, even the darkness now felt oddly comforting.

Dust covered the furniture, and the old wooden floorboards creaked with every step.

Chu Heng looked around with an exasperated look. "Are you really going to live here?" he asked.

I nodded.

Where else could I go?

Before I was sent to the rehabilitation center, my parents had taken all my money.

I found an old piece of clothing and started cleaning the room, stirring up a storm of dust.

Chu Heng couldn't stand it any longer. With a grimace, he pulled me back to the car.

He drove off in silence.

I fastened my seatbelt, curling up in the passenger seat, and asked, trembling, "W-where are you taking me?"

The car sped through the city, taking us to his private apartment.

"I'll have someone clean up the place. You can stay here for now, " he said.

I gave him a polite nod of thanks, though I still avoided looking at him.

He ruffled his hair in frustration, grabbed my chin, and forced me to meet his gaze.

I struggled to look away.

"Why won't you look at me?" he demanded.

I gritted my teeth. "It makes me nauseous."

"Nauseous?" Chu Heng said through clenched teeth. "Funny how you weren't so sick of me when you were the one pursuing me.

Is this another one of your games?"

I shook my head with difficulty. "I don't dare to anymore. I only see you as family now."

"Family?" he scoffed, looking me up and down. "You better mean it."

He didn't seem to believe me.

Once he let go, I quickly stepped back, putting some distance between us.

That night, I had a nightmare.

In it, countless versions of Chu Heng surrounded me, prying my mouth open and forcing me to swallow wriggling, live worms.

I retched, desperately trying to throw up, but only managed to spit out half.

The other half slid down my throat, writhing and multiplying in my stomach.

The next day, I asked Chu Heng to drop me off in the city center.

I barely had time to steady myself before he drove off.

Staring at the job posting outside a café, I hesitated.

Without money, I couldn't get by.

But I was without a degree or any work experience—would anyone hire me?

I hadn't even graduated college when they sent me away.

A staff member at the door noticed me eyeing the job ad and approached. "Are you here for the job?" she asked.

I nodded.

She led me to the manager, who didn't make things difficult. He asked me a few basic questions and told me to start work the next day.

The monthly salary was four thousand, with the trial period at thirty-two hundred. It wasn't much, but it was enough to live on.

I planned to work while studying, hoping to finish my degree someday.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, I asked the manager if I could get a five hundred advance. He agreed without hesitation.

I had asked my parents for money before, but they always insisted I learn to support myself and not rely on them.

Yet Qu Yan received tens of thousands in monthly allowances.

Lost in thought, I wandered down the street, not noticing a child running toward me.

He knocked me down, and my knee hit the ground hard.

The child's mother arrived and immediately started blaming me, saying I should have watched where I was going, accusing me of trying to extort them.

As more people gathered, I felt like I was back in the camp, surrounded by those who pulled my hair and forced me to drink filthy water.

I broke out in a cold sweat and couldn't even speak to defend myself.

Just then, a warm hand rested on my shoulder.

I looked up into a pair of caring eyes.

"Are you alright?"

The gentle voice of a young man eased some of the shadows in my heart. I shook my head and, with his help, got to my feet.

"Ma'am, it was clearly your son who ran into her. Instead of teaching your child, you're blaming an innocent bystander, " he said.

The woman's face turned red and white with anger. "You're lying!" she shouted.

The young man raised his camera. "It's all recorded here. Shall we call the police?"

Grumbling, the woman grabbed her child and left.

I thanked him gratefully, learning through our conversation that his name was Shi Luo, and he was a journalist.