Sunday, August 10th

Second day post-leg-break. I’ve opted for conservative treatment, so they’ve slapped a cast on my right shin. According to the doctor, I’ll have to wait at least two months—maybe more—before it can come off.

Two whole months of not washing my foot. Just how bad is that going to smell…?

Sayocho came to visit and—no joke—brought the promised barbecue. But the doctor said I have to avoid greasy, spicy, heavy food… so I wasn’t allowed to eat any.

Right after she left, Haitang showed up with her three generals in tow—and the four of them proceeded to eat all three boxes of barbecue right in front of me. Are you girls demons?

Xiao Cangyu even leaned over and whispered, “Sorry.”

Wait, she talked to me? On her own initiative?

…That’s so cute.

Sunday, August 17th

After lying flat in a hospital bed for a week, I was driven home by Wu Qinglan to continue lying flat in my own bed. The bandages on her back were already off—she was lively again, bouncing around like her usual self. But there was still a faint trace of awkwardness between us, and that tension made things feel weird.

Not only is Wu Qinglan a certified leftover woman at twenty-eight, she’s also dead set on becoming my stepmom!

The swelling in my leg’s gone down, though there’s still some lingering pain. It’s manageable, and the meds are doing their job so that I can sleep just fine.

In that entire week I was hospitalized, Dad only visited once—and that was with Wu Qinglan as his escort. Nothing quite says “family love” like absence…

Still, I guess even one visit was impressive. After all, the hospital’s full of female nurses—just walking to my bed probably took everything he had.

So, today when I got discharged, he went out of his way to make me a huge pot of bone broth—“for the calcium,” he said. It tasted like water and despair, with all the scum still floating on top.

But I was touched nonetheless… until Wu Qinglan slurped up half the pot like it was the best thing she’d ever had.

Has this woman ever heard of being a guest?

You’re not even officially part of the family yet!

“Son, I’m thinking of taking a week off work so I can stay home and take care of you.”

“No need. I can manage on my own.”

It’s not like I’m missing both legs. If I’m staying indoors, one working leg is plenty.

“But moving up and down the stairs is going to be rough.”

“Haitang and Zhao Zhao will be coming by to help. You don’t need to worry.”

Yup. That guy’s back from hell.

Wednesday, August 20th

An unexpected visitor dropped by today.

Somehow, word got out about my leg. Brother Zhu Beihai showed up at my door smiling, holding a clay pot. Judging by the thick oven mitts, it was probably piping hot.

No one else was home, so I had to hobble over with one leg to open the door and let him in.

When I lifted the lid…

Ooh! Silky black chicken¹ soup with ginseng. Looked delicious, though it was just half a bird.

If it weren’t made by a legit gangster, I’d probably have chugged it without hesitation.

Brother Zhu still looked every bit the imposing figure: a warm big-brother smile on his face, subtle tattoos peeking out from under his button-up shirt. That juxtaposition was… kind of terrifying.

Like, why is the heir to a gangster organization spending his days making chicken soup at home?

More importantly—why is he making me chicken soup?

“Kid, with your hands shaking like that, how are you supposed to drink this?”

“T-this is an advanced cooling technique… secret family method!”

…Though I did end up spilling half of it.

“How’s the taste?”

“Mmm… smells great. Tastes even better.”

Shockingly good, actually. Compared to my dad’s food—which is mediocre on a good day—this was next-level.

“My daughter’s a picky eater. I wouldn’t dare serve anything sub-par.”

Not surprising for a single yakuza dad raising a daughter. That soup was divine.

“No need to be polite—really, enjoy it. The black chicken was a gift from someone. I didn’t dare eat it myself. Same with the ginseng. Figured since I didn’t spend a dime, might as well pass it on to you.”

…Wait, what do you mean you didn’t dare eat it?

Is this poison bait?! Am I your food taster?!

“Anyway, I’ll get going. My kid’s been begging me for some too… y’know how kids are. Haha.”

Even long after he left, I was still paranoid I’d drop dead at any moment. I even wrote my will. Just in case.

Friday, August 22nd

Got a random idea today and turned Zhao Zhao into Xiao Lei.

“A rare opportunity! Let me show you my cooking skills, dear Commander!”

And this time, I really nearly died from food poisoning.

I threw up so hard I became one with the toilet.

At the end of the day, he’s still the same clumsy mountain gorilla who only knows how to make instant noodles and scrambled eggs. Even transformed into a cute girl, that doesn’t magically make him a good cook!

Saturday, August 23rd

Wu Qinglan showed up today—with a live chicken. Said she was going to make chicken soup for me.

Just the part where she killed the chicken turned our first floor into a crime scene. Chickens, even headless ones, are terrifying little monsters. They just don’t stop flapping.

She’s not much of a cook either. She and my dad fumbled around the kitchen for ages. The final result was… edible, I guess? A bit salty.

Then again, maybe that was the point. Cooking with my dad might’ve been her real goal.

Monday, August 25th

Lei Meow Meow brought her entire family over to visit me.

Uncle Lei Luo even cooked lunch himself—a full, hearty meal. Dude’s a proper domestic husband. His skills might even rival Old Feng’s.

Sis Yuanyue tried to help in the kitchen and got locked out.

“Your physical fitness is crap. Once your leg heals, I’m putting you on a training regimen.”

Even Uncle Lei Luo nodded at Meow Meow’s statement. Tian Xi, meanwhile, shivered when she heard the words training regimen.

Thursday, August 28th

Disaster.

I—have gained weight. Visibly.

My face looks rounder in the mirror, and when I sit down, my belly folds into three distinct layers.

I’m basically a Michelin Man now.

With all this high-nutrition food and absolutely zero movement, how could I not get fat?

This is bad. I’m already enough of an otaku. I’ll literally become a fat otaku at this rate!

Friday, August 29th

Today was both Qixi, the Chinese Valentine's day, and a pre-semester prep day at school.

I didn’t go.

No one spent Qixi with me either.

Saturday, August 30th

Even Haitang noticed I was getting rounder—and ruthlessly made fun of me for it.

I’ve been trying to eat less these past few days, and cut every meal in half.

But it’s not helping. I swear my stomach got even bigger.

It’s like this belly has declared war on me.

Even if I wanted to exercise, the cast on my leg makes that impossible. Plus, I don’t want to sweat. Can’t shower with this cast on, and sweating while unable to bathe is pure torture.

Sunday, August 31st

I’m lying in bed, feeling anxious for no reason.

It’s not because school starts tomorrow.

It’s… something else. Like I’ve forgotten something really, really important.