Being a Parent

Hu Lai's muscle soreness had not improved over the course of the day, so when the school team began training after classes in the afternoon, his awkward movements made him the most conspicuous guy on the team...

Naturally, Li Ziqiang's roar rang out without mercy.

"Hu Lai! What are you doing? You can't even do the warm-up properly. If you want to get injured, just say so!"

"Get the movements right!"

"Warm up! It's just a warm-up, and you can't even do that properly, yet you want to join the team for combined training? What are you dreaming about?!"

His shouts echoed throughout the stadium, repeatedly drawing laughter from the spectators gathered along the sidelines and in the stands.

Li Qingqing, who was also standing in the stands, did not laugh even once. Her lips remained pressed tightly together, her brow deeply furrowed.

At dinner that night, she voiced her doubts to her father. "Dad, don't you think you're being a little too strict with Hu Lai? The training load you assigned him is clearly heavier than everyone else's..."

"I have to be strict enough with him to live up to his talent," her father answered.

"Huh?" Li Qingqing did not immediately understand what one had to do with the other.

Before his daughter, Li Ziqiang shed the ferocious demeanor he showed the players and explained gently and patiently, "You're right, Qingqing. That Hu Lai is very talented, which is why I ultimately decided to give him a chance and bring him onto the team. But talent alone isn't enough. You've seen it too—apart from his talent, that kid can barely do anything. He has too much to learn, but time is limited. We can't give him ten years to train slowly like those children who started football training from a young age. He has very little time. If I don't increase his workload and hold him to strict standards, when will he ever realize his talent?"

That question left Li Qingqing silent. She knew her father was right, but whenever she thought of the mocking laughter directed at Hu Lai from the sidelines during training that day, she could not bring herself to admit it. It was as if admitting it would make those people's ridicule of Hu Lai seem justified.

Seeing that his daughter had nothing to say, Li Ziqiang spoke earnestly. "I'm being this strict for his own good. Maybe he resents me in his heart right now, but I believe that one day, he'll thank me for the rigorous training he's receiving today."

Hu Lai became even more certain of one thing: the [Training Boost Potion] he had drunk was taking effect.

Today's training was even more intense than yesterday's, and the improvement it brought became increasingly obvious.

He found that the degree of improvement was even more pronounced than what he had felt after drinking the [Marrow-Cleansing Potion].

He wished tomorrow's training load could be even greater—let the storm rage harder, after all. This week's three training sessions were almost used up, and the school team would not resume training until next week.

Of course, it would be even better if his body were not so sore after training.

He had already decided that, since this [Training Boost Potion] worked so well, he would exchange all two thousand points he had for lottery tickets and use them for draws, hoping to get more [Training Boost Potion].

Then, after this potion with a thirty-day duration expired, he could drink another bottle and continue seamlessly. Wouldn't that make it permanently effective?

At the thought of that wonderful future, Hu Lai could not help smiling.

Xie Lan had been secretly watching her son throughout dinner. Later, she realized she did not need to watch him secretly at all, because her son had not noticed her gaze in the slightest.

He seemed immersed in his own mental world, with eating being nothing more than a mechanical action—reaching toward a dish, randomly picking up something, whether it was a piece of meat or a slice of ginger, putting it into his mouth, chewing repeatedly, and swallowing.

Throughout the entire process, his eyes did not need to focus and his brain did not need to think. Even if he chewed on ginger, his brow would not so much as twitch.

And now, an entirely undisguised smile had appeared on his face.

Something like this had almost never happened with Hu Lai before. Or rather, how long had it been since she, as his mother, had seen her son smile so happily?

Ever since he started middle school, ever since he entered puberty.

He had grown more and more accustomed to burying all his thoughts in his heart. He would not tell them, nor would he write a diary, so even if his parents wanted to understand his psychological state by secretly reading one, they could not.

When was the last time he had directly expressed what he was thinking?

Oh, it was when he overheard that they had borrowed 350,000 in debt just to send him to Dongchuan Middle School.

He had spoken his true thoughts, and in return, received a slap from his father.

Xie Lan naturally knew that hiding one's true thoughts was not good, and that parents and children should communicate more. But those parenting books only told you such principles; they never told you how to do it.

When a child closed off their heart to you, what were you supposed to do?

Seeing Hu Lai's unguarded smile, Xie Lan asked, "What's making you so happy? Tell Mom about it."

Then she saw that the instant her son came back to himself, the smile vanished from his face. Very quickly, a smile appeared again, but knowing her son as well as she did, Xie Lan knew that the two smiles were completely different.

She watched her son grin broadly at her and say, "Dopamine, Mom. It's that theory I told you about. Exercise makes the body release lots of dopamine, and dopamine puts people in a good mood and gives them energy! So, see? Playing football actually helps with my studies, doesn't it?"

You think I'd believe that nonsense?

Xie Lan put on a gratified smile. "Oh, really? That's good..."

She sighed inwardly.

Her son was using a cheeky grin and jokes to conceal himself. It was gentler than simply shutting his door and putting on headphones so he would not have to listen to his parents nag, but it was still a refusal to communicate.

The physical door was not closed, but the door to his heart was shut tight.

Forty-six-year-old Hu Lixin stood at his post outside the security booth. The slightly oversized security uniform made him look somewhat comical. If someone placed him beside soldiers—both dressed in uniforms—anyone could easily draw the same conclusion: look, this was the difference between a puppet soldier and a regular soldier!

Wearing his peaked cap, Hu Lixin raised his hand in salute to every person who passed before him.

Most of those hurrying along, however, were looking down at their phones and gave no response at all to Hu Lixin's salute.

Carrying their things and holding their phones, they walked past Hu Lixin with their heads lowered, then took out their access cards or simply tapped the turnstile with their phones before entering this well-managed, lush, park-like five-star residential complex.

The gardeners tending the greenery inside the compound would also take the initiative to bow and greet these residents with smiles.

This was the most expensive residential complex in the area, with unit prices generally thirty to forty percent higher than those of the surrounding communities.

Yet plenty of people still chose to buy homes here. Looking at the park-like environment and the reassuring security staff, everyone who lived here felt that their homes were expensive for good reason—worth every penny.

Hu Lixin had applied for and become a security guard in this residential complex five years ago. His advantages were his tall, sturdy build and good appearance—one look told people he was no pushover, enough to deter any thieves with ill intent.

Though the job was tiring, the pay was fairly high, and Hu Lixin was quite satisfied with it.

After seeing another resident off, Hu Lixin lowered his saluting arm. At that moment, someone in the same uniform came around from behind, carrying two lunch boxes. He sat down in the chair beside the guard post and placed the boxes on the table.

"Old Hu, I brought your meal."

"Thanks, Old Fan," Hu Lixin replied without turning around.

"Eat first. I'll take over after I'm done." As he spoke, Old Fan opened his own lunch box.

"No rush. Take your time."

"Man, Old Hu, you're on the night shift again today." Old Fan shoveled a mouthful of rice into his mouth, chewing as he sighed. "Three overnight shifts in a row every week? Aren't you working yourself way too hard?"

"You get used to it," Hu Lixin answered. At the same time, he saluted another resident passing in front of him, welcoming them home.

Behind him came the sound of Old Fan smacking his lips as he ate.

"You really are in better shape than I am. Tsk, tsk... I only work one night shift a week, and by the time I hand over, I feel like I'm about to die. Just staying up here for one whole night is torture." With food in his mouth, Old Fan's words came out somewhat muffled.

"But the hard work is worth it. Your son really did you proud—he actually got into Dongchuan Middle School. That's a key provincial school! Tsk, tsk! If my son were as promising as yours, I'd be willing to work three night shifts a day!"

Hearing his colleague praise his son, a smile appeared on Hu Lixin's face.

Just then, another resident passed by. Hu Lixin immediately raised his hand in salute and called out loudly, "Good evening!"

The resident, whose full attention had been on his phone, jumped in fright. He turned to look at the security guard's sincere smile, momentarily unsure what expression or tone he should use to respond.

Even after swiping his card and entering the complex, he looked back at the guard with a puzzled expression.

Maybe that security guard had taken the wrong medicine...