Staying Alive
The words Stay alive lingered longer than Lin Shu expected.
Not warm.
Not comforting.
Just…
heavy.
Like Zhao Cheng wasn’t wishing him well, but simply stating a requirement-something necessary for whatever came next.
Outside, the wind picked up again.
Inside, the house slowly returned to its uneasy rhythm.
Zhao Mei went back to sorting what little grain they had left.
Zhao Jun sat in the corner, still burning with anger from earlier.
Zhao An quietly followed Lin Shu with his eyes whenever he moved, unsure whether to fear him or not.
And Lin Shu…
stood there, unsure where to place himself.
He eventually went to fetch water.
It was something simple.
Something harmless.
Something no one could blame him for.
But even as he carried the bucket, he could feel it-the invisible distance between him and the rest of the family.
Like he was walking inside a circle he had been locked out of.
That night, Zhao Cheng didn’t return for dinner.
The children ate silently.
Lin Shu placed food on the table as usual, then stepped back and waited.
Zhao Jun didn’t touch it.
Zhao Mei ate slowly, cautious.
Zhao An hesitated…
then quietly took a bite.
No one commented.
No one praised.
But no one stopped the youngest child either.
That alone felt like progress.
Small.
Fragile.
Like a crack in ice that hadn’t fully broken yet.
Later, Lin Shu went outside.
The night air was cold, but clear.
He looked at his hands.
They were not the hands of a privileged man.
No softness.
No luxury.
Calloused.
Slightly rough.
A body that had lived through hard work and harder judgment.
“This is going to be difficult,” he murmured.
Not just surviving.
But changing how they saw him.
Because right now, he wasn’t Lin Shu to them.
He was a memory of pain.
A mistake that kept breathing.
A sound suddenly came from the side of the house.
Lin Shu turned sharply.
A shadow moved near the fence.
He tensed instantly.
“…Who’s there?”
Silence.
Then-
A low voice answered from the dark.
“You’re out late.”
Zhao Cheng stepped into the faint moonlight.
He was still wearing his work clothes, sleeves rolled up, faint dirt on his arms.
His expression was unreadable as always.
Lin Shu relaxed slightly, then immediately felt awkward again.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Lin Shu said.
Zhao Cheng nodded once.
Then silence again.
It wasn’t uncomfortable for Zhao Cheng.
It was normal.
For Lin Shu, however, it felt like standing too close to a cliff.
After a moment, Zhao Cheng spoke.
“Today’s debt collectors will return.”
Lin Shu looked up quickly.
“They said that too.”
“They will come back with more people,” Zhao Cheng continued.
“They won’t stop at talking next time.”
Lin Shu’s stomach tightened.
“So… what do we do?”
Zhao Cheng didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he studied Lin Shu again.
Like earlier in the day.
Like he was still trying to decide what kind of person lived inside this body now.
Finally, he said, “You’ve changed.”
It wasn’t a question.
Lin Shu froze slightly.
Then nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
A pause.
Zhao Cheng’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“People don’t change that fast.”
Lin Shu felt his throat tighten.
He could lie.
He could dodge it.
But something about Zhao Cheng made lying feel useless.
So he chose the closest truth he had.
“I don’t remember being like before,” Lin Shu said carefully.
“But I know what I did hurt this family.”
Zhao Cheng didn’t react immediately.
The wind moved between them.
Then he spoke again, quieter than before.
“If this is an act…”
He stopped.
His gaze sharpened.
“You won’t survive long enough to finish it.”
Lin Shu met his eyes this time.
And for the first time, he didn’t look away.
“I understand.”
That answer seemed to satisfy something in Zhao Cheng.
Not trust.
Not forgiveness.
Just…
acknowledgment.
Zhao Cheng turned slightly.
“Then live differently.”
He started to leave.
Then paused again.
Without turning back, he added:
“Don’t make the children cry again.”
And he walked away into the night.
Lin Shu stayed standing there long after he was gone.
The cold air touched his face.
But inside his chest, something felt strangely unsettled.
Not fear.
Not relief.
Something closer to determination.
Because for the first time since arriving in this world…
Someone hadn’t asked him to die.
They had asked him to live properly.
And that was harder.
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