The next day, a streak of sunlight lit up a three-bedroom apartment in Qingcheng Garden.
A woman sat up from bed in excitement. The fifty-three-year-old looked a lot younger with her brown curly hair kept at shoulder length and her fair, unblemished skin. Unable to hold back anymore, she went straight to knock on the door of her son's bedroom without washing up first.
She was Xia Jingshu, Ye Hao's mother.
Bang, bang, bang.
Pounding on the door.
"Ye Hao, open the door!" The woman hollered, graced by a telltale grin.
Failing to ignore the pounding, Hao had no choice but to get up, rubbing his eyes. He feared no one but his own mother who happened to be going through menopause and was known to be garrulous.
"What is it, mom? Today is the weekend, I don't need to work." Opening his door, he found his mother's face utterly lit up in hilarity as if she had just won the biggest Powerball prize.
