A Burden Lifted

6:30 PM.

When Lin Ye pushed open the front door, a rich aroma of home-cooked food wafted toward him.

He paused at the entryway, stunned. At this hour, his mother should have been the only one busy in the kitchen, and his father usually didn't get off work until 7:30 PM. Yet today, not only were his father's oil-stained work boots neatly placed by the shoe cabinet, but looking into the living room, the dining table was overflowing with dishes. He saw not only his favorite braised pork, steamed fish, and garlic broccoli, but even a pot of slow-simmered soup that his mother rarely made.

"Xiao Ye, you're back?"

Hearing the door open, his mother, Wang Xiulan, poked her head out of the kitchen wearing an apron, a smile on her face. "Go wash your hands quickly, we're about to eat."

Lin Ye changed his shoes and walked into the cramped living room. His father, Lin Jianguo, was sitting at the dining table with a bottle of white liquor he usually saved for special occasions and two small glasses in front of him. He was wearing a washed-out work uniform, his hair neatly combed, and he was looking down at the group messages projected by his smart watch, unable to hide the smile on his face.

"Dad, home so early today?"

At these words, Lin Jianguo looked up, a faint smile appearing on his face, which was etched with the wrinkles of time and toil. "Yeah, there wasn't much work at the factory today, so I came back a bit early."

His gaze lingered on Lin Ye for a moment, revealing a hint of pride. "Go wash up, look at you, covered in sweat."

In the bathroom, Lin Ye splashed cold water on his face and looked up at the teenager in the mirror. His delicate features had become much more resolute after more than a month of tempering, his eyes were sharper than they had been three months ago, and his shoulders had broadened.

Suddenly, he remembered what Teacher Zheng had said during the lunch break: "The Key Cultivation Program has been officially approved, starting tomorrow. Lin Ye, don't let this opportunity go to waste."

Don't let this opportunity go to waste?

Lin Ye murmured, looking into the mirror.

The teenager in the mirror responded with a bright, sunny smile.

When he returned to the dining table, his mother had already served three bowls of rice. The fat on the braised pork glistened enticingly under the light, the scallions on the fish were vibrant green, and the soup was steaming.

Lin Ye looked at the lavish spread, estimating the cost of the meal; it probably equaled two or three days' worth of their usual grocery budget.

Then, the family of three took their seats.

As soon as they sat down, his mother immediately placed the largest piece of braised pork into Lin Ye's bowl, then gave one to her husband, before finally taking some greens and fish for herself.

The atmosphere at the table suddenly grew heavy.

Father and son had very similar personalities; neither was talkative, so they just ate in silence. Meanwhile, Wang Xiulan kept piling food into Lin Ye's bowl until it looked like a small mountain. "Eat more, Xiao Ye. Martial arts training burns a lot of energy, don't worry about the cost of food."

Lin Ye ate with his head down. He could feel the warmth in the atmosphere today and had some guesses of his own, though he felt it might be better for him to be the one to bring it up.

Just as he swallowed his mouthful of rice and prepared to speak:

"Xiao Ye."

His father, Lin Jianguo, spoke first. He set down his chopsticks, picked up the bottle to pour a little into his own glass, hesitated for a moment, and then poured a shallow layer into Lin Ye's empty glass. "Your homeroom teacher, Teacher Chen, posted the report card for this district-wide mock exam in the parents' group this afternoon."

Lin Jianguo's voice wasn't loud, carrying the coarseness developed from years of speaking in a noisy workshop. "I saw it. Very good. 725 points, 7th in the class, 48th in the grade."

Lin Ye looked up. His father picked up his glass but didn't drink, just staring at the clear liquid inside. "Three months ago, your first mock exam score was 514 points, 24th in the class, and outside the top 100 in the grade."

His mother let out a soft "Ah" from the side, clearly having forgotten exactly what Lin Ye's scores were a few months ago.

"Your mother and I never went to a comprehensive high school; we don't understand these things," Lin Jianguo continued, speaking slowly. "But we both know that going from 514 to 725, from 24th to 7th, isn't something you get by luck. It takes hard work."

He paused and finally took a sip of the liquor; the sharp burn made him squint slightly.

"Your mother woke up in a fright a couple of nights ago, saying she dreamed you were out on the balcony practicing your punches again at night." His father's voice dropped lower. "It was three in the morning."

Wang Xiulan's eyes turned red instantly. She hurriedly lowered her head to eat, not wanting her husband or son to see.

"Don't you worry about the nutritional supplements."

Lin Jianguo looked at his son, his eyes holding something Lin Ye rarely saw—not exhaustion, not helplessness, but a kind of stubborn determination. "I've already told the manager I'll take on an extra shift starting next month. You just focus on your martial arts, and tell me if you need money."

He said this slowly and firmly, every word feeling as if it were being pushed out from his chest. Lin Ye knew what it meant for his father to take on an extra shift. He wasn't a naive high schooler; he had seen his father working in the factory when he was young and understood the reality of factory life in this era.

Taking an extra shift meant his father would have to work four more hours every day, sometimes even losing his weekends, standing in front of those roaring machine tools, repeating monotonous and draining tasks.

At the very least, he believed that was how his father had developed his chronic back pain.

Suddenly, Lin Ye felt a tightness in his throat. He opened his mouth, but the words he had prepared were stuck, unable to come out.

The dining table fell into silence once more. His mother placed a piece of fish in his bowl and whispered, "Eat more, martial arts training takes a toll on the body..."

A moment later, Lin Ye took a deep breath and set down his chopsticks.

"Dad, Mom, there's something I need to tell you." Lin Ye's voice was steadier than he had expected. "The school announced the list for the Key Cultivation Program today, and I was selected."

Then, he briefly explained what the school's Key Cultivation Program was.

Clatter!

The chopsticks in Wang Xiulan's hand dropped to the floor.

"K-Key Cultivation?"

She repeated the term, her eyes wide. "Is it the kind they talk about on TV... the one the school gives to the best students?"

"Not exactly." Lin Ye nodded, then shook his head, offering a wry smile.

"The very best students in the school probably wouldn't even care for it."

Knowing his parents didn't understand the nuances, he simply explained the resources and benefits the school was providing. "Anyway, starting tomorrow, the school will provide me with one F-grade nutritional supplement every day, two gravity room training sessions per week, one medicinal bath, free luxury-tier meals, and I can also borrow D-grade martial arts manuals."

He finished in one breath, and the dining table fell into a terrifying silence.

Mother Wang Xiulan froze for a few seconds, then her entire being seemed to light up, a smile so radiant it was almost exaggerated blooming across her face: "That's wonderful, that's wonderful!!! I knew it, I knew our little Lin Ye would make something of himself."

She was incoherent, standing up only to sit back down, reaching out to grab her husband's arm: "Lin Jianguo, did you hear that? The school is providing it, the school is covering everything, we don't have to spend a cent!!!"

As she spoke, tears began to fall, and she hurriedly wiped them away with her sleeve: "It's so good... it's just so good..."

Lin Ye looked at his mother, a surge of heartache welling up in his chest; he knew exactly what she had been worrying about.

He had privately watched his mother calculate their accounts many times. A single box of the cheapest F-grade nutrient solution cost 3,000, and his monthly food expenses were another 2,000. Meanwhile, the combined salaries of her and her husband, Lin Jianguo, after deducting the mortgage, living expenses, and the money sent to the elderly, left them with less than 2,000.

Under such circumstances, supporting his monthly expenses of 5,000—or rather, more than 5,000, since one box of F-grade nutrient solution couldn't last a whole month—was a heavy burden.

Such a massive expense was a crushing weight for her. She had to scrimp and save every month. It might have only seemed like three months of support, but the looming financial desperation had kept her from sleeping well every single night.

But now, this heaviest of burdens had suddenly been lifted.

Lin Ye turned his head to see his father's reaction, and he froze; Lin Jianguo's expression was very strange.

It wasn't joy, at least not entirely.

His father, Lin Jianguo, sat there, still holding his wine glass, his arm trembling slightly. He looked as if he had been hit with a pause button, staring at Lin Ye without blinking, his lips slightly parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn't make a sound.

It was an incredibly complex expression—surprise, relief, pride... but deep down, there was an emotion Lin Ye couldn't decipher. It was like the bewilderment that comes when something held taut for too long suddenly goes slack, or the helplessness of someone who had been preparing to charge into battle only to find the war had already ended and the field had been cleared.

"Jianguo?"

His mother noticed something was off and nudged her husband.

Lin Jianguo finally snapped out of it. He set down his wine glass, his hand unsteady, the bottom of the glass clinking sharply against the table. He then lowered his head, picked up his chopsticks, shoveled a large mouthful of rice into his mouth, and chewed for a long time.

"Dad?"

Lin Ye asked softly, feeling a bit confused.

Hearing his son call him, Lin Jianguo hurriedly swallowed the rice. When he looked up, he had forced a smile onto his face, but Lin Ye felt that the smile was awkward, as if his facial muscles weren't used to that shape. "Good... very good."

He said, his voice somewhat dry, "For the school to choose you, it means you've truly made it."

"Well done!"

After saying this, he raised his wine glass, his hand still trembling slightly, and downed the remaining wine in one gulp. Then, he began eating mouthful after mouthful of rice, occasionally picking up a side dish, but his eyes never looked at his son, Lin Ye, again.

And so, dinner ended in a rather peculiar atmosphere.

His mother, still too happy to contain herself, insisted that Lin Ye not help with the dishes, pushing him to go back to his room to rest, while his father, Lin Jianguo, went out to the balcony to get some air.