Simulated Scenario: The Final Obsession of the Old Home
“Come in.” Yao Xi changed her shoes and walked straight to the kitchen. “Have a seat first, I’ll go boil some water.”
Lin Mo didn’t move, standing at the doorway as he surveyed what used to be his home. The desk drawer was half-open, revealing the corner of a comic book—it was the Pokémon manga Yao Xi used to hide in there and never finished reading.
When Yao Xi came out carrying two glasses of water, she saw he was still standing where he’d been. She set the glasses on the coffee table and pointed at the sofa. “Sit down, are you afraid I’ll eat you?”
Only then did Lin Mo walk over and sit down, his body tense and rigid, like a guest unsure of his welcome.
“I want to eat your egg fried rice.” Yao Xi said suddenly.
Lin Mo looked up, a flash of confusion in his eyes. “What?”
“You used to always make me egg fried rice,” Yao Xi’s voice softened, tinged with nostalgia. “The eggs had to be crispy outside and tender inside, the rice perfectly separated grain by grain, and you always put in those carrot cubes I liked. Do you remember?”
Lin Mo’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He was silent for several seconds before he said, “I’ve forgotten how to make it.”
Yao Xi’s heart sank. “It’s all right.” She forced herself to sound composed and stood up. “I’ll teach you.”
The kitchen was small, and with both of them standing together, it felt cramped. Yao Xi took out eggs, rice, and carrots, and step by step taught Lin Mo how to beat the eggs, how big the flame should be, when to put in the rice.
“You weren’t like this before.” Yao Xi’s voice was a little low. “The rice you used to fry was never burnt, and you’d always cut the carrot pieces extra small, worried I wouldn’t be able to swallow them.”
Lin Mo paused for a moment, but said nothing, quietly picking out the burnt bits of egg.
Once the rice was ready, she served it into two white porcelain bowls. Yao Xi picked up a spoon and tasted a bite. The flavor was plain, nothing like the taste in her memory.
She watched Lin Mo eating, one spoonful at a time, and her heart felt choked, an ache she couldn’t put into words.
“After we eat, could you draw me a Pokémon card?” Yao Xi set down her spoon, looking at him. “You used to draw them for me all the time—Pikachu, Squirtle—they looked just like the real thing. I’d tuck them into my textbooks and show off, saying, ‘my brother drew this.'”
Lin Mo put down his bowl and wiped his mouth. “I don’t have time. The teacher is still waiting for me.”
“Just one card. It’ll be quick.” Yao Xi’s voice carried a hint of pleading. “Just one, all right?”
Lin Mo looked at her reddened eyes, hesitating for a long while before finally nodding.
Yao Xi ran to the study right away, fetching paper and pen. Lin Mo sat at the desk, gripping the pen. He stared at the blank sheet for a long time before slowly starting to draw. His Pikachu had misshapen ears, and the eyes were crooked, nothing like the vivid Pikachu from years before.
Yao Xi took the card, gazing at the wobbly Pikachu on it. “You didn’t use to draw like this.” Her voice choked. “The Pikachu you drew before had round eyes and a smiling face.”
“I forgot.” Lin Mo’s voice was soft, laced with a faint, almost imperceptible helplessness.
Yao Xi didn’t say anything more, just clenched the card tightly in her hand. She knew Lin Mo hadn’t truly forgotten—he just didn’t want to remember. Everything he was doing now, it was all for Su Wanwan.
In the afternoon, Yao Xi took out a math problem and sat beside Lin Mo. “I can’t solve this one. Can you help me? You used to always help me with homework, explaining things again and again until I understood.”
Lin Mo took the problem, glanced at it, then picked up a pen and swiftly wrote out the solution steps. His logic was clear and the steps concise, but unlike before, he didn’t explain anything—he simply pushed the paper filled with calculations toward her. “See for yourself. Ask if you don’t understand.”
Yao Xi stared at the densely packed handwriting, her heart turning cold. Lin Mo used to be so patient, always asking where she got stuck, explaining in ways she could grasp, even coming up with similar problems for her to practice. But now, he couldn’t even spare an extra word for her.
“I don’t get it.” Yao Xi pushed the paper back, deliberately saying, “Tell me how you did it.”
Lin Mo frowned, looking a little impatient, but still forced himself to explain it once. His tone was flat, without a hint of warmth, as if he were tutoring a stranger.
As Yao Xi listened, her feelings of injustice and anger slowly built up. She knew—the Lin Mo before her was no longer the brother who cherished her, doted on her, made her feel important. Now, all his gentleness and patience were reserved for Su Wanwan; all he gave her was indifference and perfunctory gestures.
As night fell, Yao Xi looked at the sky darkening outside the window and suddenly said, “Stay the night, just like before. Let’s sleep together.”
Lin Mo’s body stiffened at once, and he immediately refused. “No, I have to go back.”
“Just one night,” Yao Xi’s voice was tinged with desperation. “When Dad wasn’t home before, you’d always hold me to sleep, saying you were afraid I’d get scared. You’d even tell me stories until I fell asleep.”
“Yao Xi,” Lin Mo’s voice turned cold. “We’re not kids anymore.”
“I just want you to hold me one more time,” Yao Xi’s tears fell. “Just once, all right?”
Lin Mo looked at her tear-reddened eyes. For a moment, a struggle flickered in his expression, but soon it faded back into coldness.
“I’m leaving.” He stood up, picked up his backpack from the sofa. “I’ll come again tomorrow.”
“No need.” Yao Xi suddenly spoke, her voice cold as ice.
Lin Mo paused in his tracks, turning to look at her.
Yao Xi stood up, wiping her tears away. The hurt and pleading from earlier were gone from her gaze, leaving only a chilling emptiness.
“I know where the clue to the Holy Water of the Jade Pool is.” She looked at Lin Mo, enunciating every word. “But I won’t help you anymore.”
Lin Mo’s expression changed. “What did you say?”
“I said, I won’t help you save Su Wanwan anymore.” The corner of Yao Xi’s mouth curled into a cold smile. “Don’t you care about her so much? Aren’t you willing to pretend to be good to me, reminisce with me about the past, all for her sake? Well, now I just won’t give you what you want.”
“Yao Xi, stop making a scene.”
“A scene?” Yao Xi began to laugh, a note of madness in her voice. “You call this making a scene?”
“Let me tell you, what I hate most is this act of yours!” Yao Xi pointed at him, her eyes full of hatred. “You obviously hate me, you obviously don’t want to bother with me, but for someone else you force yourself to act like a good brother. Did you think I couldn’t see through it? Did you think I’d be touched by this cheap imitation of affection?”
Lin Mo’s face grew ugly. He opened his mouth, as if to say something.
“You want to save Su Wanwan?” Yao Xi’s voice suddenly grew calm, but with a chill that sent a shiver down the spine. “Then I just won’t let you. I’ll make you watch her slip away bit by bit, make you live forever in guilt and regret.”