Shen Nanxing had a blue-covered ledger.
The ledger had been bought many years ago, and a small white boat was printed on its cover. At first, she only used it to record the mortgage and monthly expenses. After the children were born, the entries in the ledger grew more numerous: infant formula, diapers, vaccines, early education, kindergarten, illustrated books, toys, tutoring class, insurance, property management fees, car insurance, and medical expenses for the elderly patient.
None of the individual expenses was particularly shocking, but packed densely together, they resembled a net with no visible edge.
That night, after Shen Nanxing coaxed both children to sleep, she sat at the dining table and calculated the expenses. Gu Cheng'an had not returned yet, while her mother-in-law was already asleep. Only a small lamp was lit in the living room. Spread across the table were the ledger, mobile banking, and several payment notices.
Yiming's english class renewal fee was due next month: twelve thousand.
Xiaobao's kindergarten required activity and meal fees, totaling more than three thousand.
The mortgage payment this month was seven thousand eight hundred.
Her mother-in-law had gone for an examination after suffering back pain a while ago. Although there was no serious problem, the medication and physical therapy had still cost more than a thousand.
Then there were the utilities, property management fees, parking space, daily groceries, and social obligations and gift expenses.
Shen Nanxing wrote down each expense, growing more and more silent as she went.
To outsiders, the incomes of Shen Nanxing and Gu Cheng'an were not low. One was a doctor, the other a nurse, both working at a top-tier hospital—it sounded respectable and stable. Yet only those who truly lived through daily life knew that dignity did not mean abundance, and stability did not mean freedom from pressure. Especially in this city, children were like two money-shredding machines that never switched off, while the house was like a massive stone pressing against their chests.
By the time Gu Cheng'an got home, it was nearly eleven.
When he saw the ledger on the table, he asked casually, “Calculating expenses again?”
“Mm.” Shen Nanxing pushed her phone toward him. “Yiming's english class needs to be renewed, and Xiaobao's kindergarten needs another payment. This month may be a little tight.”
Gu Cheng'an took off his coat, sat across from her, and picked up the ledger to look through it.
“Does the english class really have to be renewed?”
Shen Nanxing looked up. “Your mother said it can't be stopped. You also said before that all your colleagues' children were studying it.”
Gu Cheng'an frowned. “I said he could study it, but we also have to consider our financial situation.”
Shen Nanxing did not speak immediately.
Over the years, many decisions had been made this way. Whether to buy a school district home, whether to enroll in a tutoring class, whether to sign up for interest courses—her mother-in-law would say, “Everyone else does it,” and Gu Cheng'an would say, “It's for the children.” In the end, she was always the one who carried out the decisions and saved the money.
“Then you tell Mom to stop it?” she asked.
Gu Cheng'an fell silent.
Shen Nanxing lowered her head and gave a small laugh.
“Forget it,” she said. “I'll think of something.”
“Don't always be so sarcastic.” Gu Cheng'an sounded somewhat exhausted. “It's not like I don't take care of the family.”
“I didn't say you don't.” Shen Nanxing flipped the ledger to the previous page. “This month, you transferred fifteen thousand to the family, and the mortgage was charged to your card. After my salary arrived, I paid the children's miscellaneous expenses, property management fees, groceries, the social obligations and gift expenses on my mother's side, and Xiaobao's medicine. With what was left, I had to think for half a day even before buying a piece of clothing.”
Gu Cheng'an looked at the ledger, his tone softening slightly. “I know you've worked hard.”
By the time Shen Nanxing heard those words, she no longer felt much of anything.
She simply continued calculating.
By the end, the figure remaining in the account was painfully small—too small to withstand any unexpected expense. She suddenly remembered what the head nurse had said about position restructuring, and then remembered her status as a contract worker. The pen in her hand stopped on the paper and did not move for a long while.
“Cheng'an,” she said quietly, “what should we do if my job becomes unstable one day?”
Gu Cheng'an looked up. “Why are you suddenly bringing this up?”
“The hospital has been undergoing reforms recently.”
“Isn't your Emergency Department always short-staffed?” Gu Cheng'an said. “You probably won't be affected. You've been doing this for so many years.”
Shen Nanxing looked at him, feeling no comfort in her heart.
Having done it for so many years sounded like a guarantee.
Yet she increasingly felt that many things would not necessarily remain yours simply because you had devoted yourself to them for a long time.
Late that night, Gu Cheng'an washed up and went to bed. Shen Nanxing remained at the dining table and closed the ledger again. The small boat on the blue cover rested quietly on the tabletop, like a boat that could never reach shore.
She put the ledger in the drawer, then glanced once more at the doors to the two children's rooms before turning off the light.
The mortgage, car loan, the children's tuition, medical expenses for the elderly patient, and the invisible midlife crisis all pressed down one after another.
Standing in the darkness, Shen Nanxing felt clearly for the first time that her life was not moving steadily forward.
It simply had not collapsed yet.