He was wearing a dark blue knee-length swimsuit, a towel draped over his shoulder, his hair wet as if he had just emerged from the water. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, his abdominal muscles clearly defined but not exaggerated—a lean, athletic build shaped by swimming. His skin was the clean, light wheat tone of someone who frequently spends time in the water, shimmering faintly under the pool lights.
“Coach Zhou, new student today?” His voice was low, carrying a hint of hoarseness from recent exercise.
“Lu Shiyu, why are you still here?” Zhou Meng glanced up at him. “Didn’t the school team training end at five?”
“Stayed a bit longer for extra practice.” Lu Shiyu shifted the towel to his other shoulder, his gaze turning to Jiang Lai as he offered a polite smile. “New student?”
Zhou Meng introduced them. “Jiang Lai, a sophomore from the regular department, just transferred. Jiang Lai, this is Lu Shiyu, the captain of the senior-year school swimming team.”
Lu Shiyu nodded to her. “Good choice. Mingde Swimming Pool is the most comfortable in the entire city.”
Zhou Meng said to Lu Shiyu, “She’s a beginner. If you run into her practicing alone in the pool later, keep an eye out for her.”
Jiang Lai thanked him, changed her clothes, and walked to the swimming pool lobby, where she happened to run into Lu Shiyu, who had just come out as well.
The two pushed open the doors and walked outside together when suddenly, a figure darted out from around the corner ahead.
“Lailai, let’s go get some late-night snacks!”
Zhang Yue stood under a streetlight, wearing a goose-yellow hoodie with her hands in her pockets, clearly having waited for a while.
Zhang Yue’s eyes swept over Lu Shiyu beside her.
Her mouth opened, then closed. Jiang Lai bid farewell to Lu Shiyu, and Zhang Yue eagerly pulled her aside. “How do you know Lu Shiyu?”
Jiang Lai was puzzled. “We met in swimming class. Do you know him?”
Zhang Yue’s excitement was impossible to hide. “He’s the school heartthrob! Every time he trains, tons of girls go to watch. Who knows how many people try to add him on WeChat or strike up a conversation every day.”
Jiang Lai glanced back. Lu Shiyu was standing not far away, looking down at his phone, completely unaware that someone was talking about him.
“Can you call me next time you have swimming class? I’ll go too.”
Jiang Lai looked at her. “Didn’t you say exercising is worse than just dieting? Late-night snack queen.”
“Swimming doesn’t count as exercise,” Zhang Yue said without batting an eye. “Swimming is entertainment.”
“Alright,” Jiang Lai nodded. “I’ll call you next time.”
Zhang Yue linked arms with her. “Come on, bestie, the queen is treating you to late-night snacks.”
After her System Balance broke two hundred thousand, Jiang Lai’s attitude toward spending money changed.
On Friday afternoon, she returned home to find Jiang Shan cooking in the kitchen—sweet and sour spare ribs, Jiang Lai’s favorite.
Jiang Shan didn’t know Jiang Lai was watching her cook from behind. Once the ribs were fried golden on both sides, she turned off the stove, set down the spatula, freed her right hand, clenched it into a fist, and pressed it against her lower back a few times. After massaging it, she picked up the spatula and continued flipping the ribs.
Jiang Lai took a sip of water and retreated to the living room.
The next afternoon, she went to the mall. On the fourth floor, in the furniture and home appliances section, she tried out one massage chair after another, testing five in total. The salesperson beside her explained the number of airbags, massage programs, and zero-gravity modes, but Jiang Lai barely listened. She only asked which one offered the best lumbar support. The salesperson led her to a light gray model—not too large, just the right size to fit into a corner of the living room.
She sat in it for fifteen minutes and felt it was quite good. This model wasn’t particularly luxurious, priced at just over three thousand. She paid for it, secured the purchase, and scheduled delivery for Wednesday, the day Jiang Shan had off.
After leaving the mall, Jiang Lai sat in a first-floor coffee shop, opened her laptop, and registered a new email address. After fiddling for half an hour—adjusting fonts, colors, and embedding the mall’s logo into the email header—she crafted the body of the message in carefully worded customer service language: Congratulations! You have won the grand prize in our anniversary celebration raffle—a brand-name massage chair.
She checked it three times to make sure she hadn’t misspelled Jiang Shan’s name, then clicked send.
On Wednesday afternoon, while Jiang Lai was in class at school, her phone vibrated. She discreetly glanced at the screen under her desk and saw three consecutive voice messages from Jiang Shan on WeChat. Without headphones, she could only rely on the text transcription.
“Lailai! Mom won a prize! A massage chair! A huge one! The mall already delivered it! I’ve never won anything before! Come home this weekend and see!”
The messages were followed by over a dozen photos: the packaged massage chair, the unboxing process, the fully assembled product, and a brand-new light gray massage chair now sitting in the corner of the living room. The last photo showed Jiang Shan sitting in the massage chair, flashing a peace sign at the camera, her eyes crinkled into happy slits from smiling.
When Jiang Lai returned home on Saturday, Jiang Shan immediately pulled her over to the massage chair as soon as she stepped inside.
“Try it out!” Jiang Shan pressed her into the chair and hit the start button, activating zero-gravity mode. Airbags kneaded from her feet all the way up to her shoulders. Jiang Lai slumped into the chair—she had originally bought it just for her mom, never expecting to enjoy it herself. Jiang Shan stood beside her, watching her wrapped in the airbags, and patted the armrest contentedly. “How is it? Isn’t it comfortable?”
“It’s comfortable. Mom, hasn’t your back been hurting lately? You should use it more often.”
Jiang Shan plopped down on the sofa. “It’s strange, you know. Ever since your dad left, our lives have been going so smoothly. Our luck’s been good too—look at how much money you’ve earned from your part-time job, winning this prize, and your classmate renting out a place so cheaply. Does that make sense?”
Jiang Lai tensed up under the soothing massage, her mind racing. “Uh… It just shows that Dad was unreliable. He took all the bad luck with him, so of course good fortune comes to us now. Plus, I changed my surname to yours—maybe this name is more nurturing. Your ‘Jiang’ is the ‘Jiang’ from rivers, and water brings wealth, right? Haha, haha.”
Jiang Shan grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds and started cracking them, not paying much attention. “You’re so young, yet you’re already superstitious.”
[Keyword detected, triggering Compensation. WeChat transfer received: 30,000 yuan.]
Well, her mom mentioning family topics out loud also earned rewards. Little did she know that her casual remark had just covered the cost of ten massage chairs.
Since their new home was right across from the school, Jiang Lai would return to have dinner with her mom on evenings when she wasn’t swimming or hanging out with Zhang Yue.
She observed Jiang Shan’s daily life: the skincare lotion from the supermarket was almost empty, so she’d turn the bottle upside down to drain every last drop, making it last another week each time. The black wool coat in her closet had been worn for four or five years, its cuffs frayed and fuzzy. It seemed her mom never took care of herself as meticulously as she cared for Jiang Lai.
Jiang Lai scrolled through her phone and booked an appointment at a high-end beauty salon downtown.
When she made the reservation, the salon quoted the price for a facial treatment and shoulder-neck massage. Hearing the cost, she gasped—a single session was almost enough to buy half a smartphone. She provided her phone number and confirmed the time.
“Any other requests?”
“When I bring my mom there, you can’t let her know the real price.”
On Friday evening, she told Jiang Shan she had plans for the next afternoon. “I bought a group-buy voucher for a beauty salon. It’s about to expire and was super cheap. It’d be a waste not to use it. I’ll go with you tomorrow.”
Jiang Shan turned to look at her from the massage chair. “When did you buy that? How much was it?”
“Ninety-nine yuan, and it includes a lot of services.”
Jiang Shan still felt reluctant—that price was enough for a full set of skincare products at the supermarket. But Jiang Lai said the voucher couldn’t be refunded and urged her to just try it once. Jiang Shan herself was also a little curious, so she reluctantly agreed.
On Saturday afternoon, the mother and daughter walked into the beauty salon. The receptionist checked their reservation and led them inside. The treatment room had soft lighting, a humidifier puffing white mist in the corner, and a faint scent of plant essential oils in the air. As Jiang Shan lay down on the treatment bed, she muttered, “This place is too fancy.” Even the stroke of luck from winning the massage chair hadn’t made her feel justified in spending money like this.
She turned her head to look at Jiang Lai. “Lai Lai, is this really not expensive?”
“Really not expensive. If you don’t believe me, ask the staff.”
Jiang Shan’s gaze shifted to the technician, who had already been briefed by the owner. The technician smiled and nodded. “Yes, we have a promotional price right now. Don’t worry.”
The technician began the shoulder and neck massage. As soon as her hands touched Jiang Shan’s shoulders, she said, “Madam, your shoulder and neck muscles are very tight. Do you stand for long periods at work? You need to relax more here.”
At first, Jiang Shan responded, saying she was busy with work and hadn’t paid attention. But as the technician slowly kneaded the fascia inside her shoulder blades, she spoke less and less. When the face mask was applied, she fell completely silent. Her breathing lightened, and her hands rested loosely at her sides instead of clenching.
After the treatment, Jiang Shan sat up from the bed and walked to the mirror. The essence from the face mask hadn’t fully absorbed yet, and the light shone down from above the mirror. She stared at her reflection for a long time without speaking.
“The results are really good. Your mom here, I’m actually only thirty-six,” she finally managed to say.
Jiang Lai walked over and stood beside her, both of them looking into the mirror. Only Jiang Lai knew they weren’t related by blood, but after living together for seventeen years, even their expressions had started to sync up. In the mirror, two faces stood side by side—one still glistening with the leftover moisture from the mask, the other fresh and youthful with a clean, bare face.
“Mom,” Jiang Lai said to her reflection in the mirror, “you really are still young. Let’s come here regularly from now on. They often send out group-buy vouchers, and we can afford it.”