The apocalypse is coming, others are running for their lives, and my mother is keeping accounts.
She trades "the energy to wake up tomorrow" for three minutes of safety, and "my love for celery" for a dull knife. Her hair turned silver day by day, her cooking became saltier and saltier, and her hands were as cold as ice when she touched my head.
The system said that this was the "Quantitative Maternal Love Cultivation Plan" - pay the price, gain strength, and eventually become the perfect guardian.
Until I saw a line of small words in the background: "Project number 07, final form: Lord of the Night Banquet (Ghost Mother). Related entity Shen Zhou: Estimated lifespan fuel."
Now, my mother puts on an old apron every Sunday evening and waits for me to eat at the door of Yongye B&B.
——Even though she is half human and half regular, she only has two hours left to remember that she is my mother.
I have to eat this meal for the rest of my life.
