Chapter 4

My mom heard the commotion and sprang up from the couch.

Seeing the police, she panicked.

"What's wrong?" Her voice trembled.

The officer walked in, saw the floor covered in persimmons, and frowned.

"Did you pick these persimmons?"

My mom's face instantly went white. "I... I just picked them for fun."

"For fun?" The property manager scoffed. "Those are Japanese Sweetheart Persimmons, a valuable ornamental variety. One plant costs over four hundred dollars! They finally bore fruit, and you picked every single one, not a single one left!"

My mom's legs went weak, and she leaned on the couch to steady herself.

"The surveillance cameras clearly captured everything," the property manager pulled out his phone. "You were picking from one in the afternoon until five, running back and forth over a dozen times!"

"Destroying other people's property, a significant amount, constitutes a criminal offense. You'll have to come with us."

The officer pulled out handcuffs.

"I didn't know!" My mom's voice was shrill and piercing. "I really didn't know! I thought they were just ordinary persimmons!"

She sharply turned her head and glared at me. "You! You knew all along, didn't you? I asked you if I could pick them, why didn't you answer me?"

I said nothing.

"You did it on purpose! You deliberately set me up!"

She lunged at me, trying to hit me, but the officer quickly intervened.

"No hitting!"

A crowd of neighbors had already gathered at the door, craning their necks to look inside.

"Isn't that the one who climbed the fence yesterday?"

"It really is her. Now she's picking ornamental persimmons? That's wild."

"Take her away, take her away, stop her from causing more trouble here."

My mom's face turned a deep crimson, and she roared, "You dare lay a hand on me?! Taking someone away just for a few rotten persimmons? What kind of world do we live in?!"

No sooner had she finished speaking than her face suddenly changed. She clutched her stomach and slowly bent down, squatting.

"Ow..." Her face was pale.

"Stop faking it!" The property manager frowned. "You were just trying to hit someone, and now you're putting on an act again?"

"I'm not faking it, my stomach hurts so bad..."

Her body went limp, and she collapsed directly to the ground, writhing and clutching her stomach.

Then a terrible stench filled the air.

The neighbors covered their noses and backed away.

"Oh my God!"

"What is that awful smell?!"

"She had an accident!"

A puddle spread on the floor, and my mom was curled up in it, her face pale and yellowish, forehead covered in sweat.

"Eating seven or eight persimmons in one go, and ornamental ones at that," I looked down at her. "It's a miracle she didn't get sick earlier."

She gasped for air, her mouth open. "Quick... take me to the hospital."

The officer also covered his nose and retreated to the door. "Let's call an ambulance first."

The property manager made the call.

My mom lay in that mess, in pain and reeking, trembling all over.

She looked up at me, her eyes filled with hatred.

"Mom," I leaned against the doorframe, "didn't you say that experience teaches you instantly?"

She glared at me, her lips trembling.

"This time, that should be enough to remember for a lifetime, right?"

The ambulance arrived.

As the stretcher was carried out, everyone in the hallway tried to get out of the way.

When she was lifted into the ambulance, she was cursing.

"You heartless monster, you conspired against your own mother, may you be struck by lightning! Ow... you just wait, I won't let you off..."

My mom was taken to the emergency room.

She had her stomach pumped and was put on an IV drip.

Because I insisted on not paying for her, saying it would help her learn her lesson, she had to use her own retirement savings to cover the cost of the persimmons and medical bills.

After this incident, my mom was quiet for a few days.

But soon, I noticed she seemed to be plotting something.

A few times I saw her whispering with Linda, the neighbor from the next bed. Both of them immediately stopped when they saw me.

I knew Linda; she lived in our complex too.

Her daughter supposedly ran some investment business and was always dressed in flashy jewelry.

Every time she came to the hospital, she carried bags and bags of tonics, and my mom's eyes would light up.