"No way… no way this is happening!" Cui's mind screamed as she squeezed through the throng of students heading home from school.
"That line of poetry… I've known it since I was three! My mom made me memorize it over and over. How could I possibly get it wrong? Li Bai's 'Raise your head and gaze at the bright moon, lower it and think of your hometown'—how did it suddenly turn into 'Raise your head and gaze at the bright river, lower it and think of your hometown'? And everyone in class… everyone says it's 'river,' not 'moon'!"
She muttered to herself, barely noticing that she had already stepped through her front door. Somehow, she couldn't remember weaving through the crowd, hauling her bicycle out from the sea of bikes outside, or even arriving home.
It felt like she had stepped straight through Doraemon's Anywhere Door—one blink, and the rich smell of lunch wrapped around her.
"You're back!" her mother called, placing steaming dishes on the table.
"Yeah… I'm back," Cui replied, her voice distant, distracted.
"The food's just done. Eat it while it's hot!" Her mother brushed past her into the kitchen, removing her apron.
"Okay, I'll go wash my hands."
"Don't touch the purple basin on the bathroom floor! Aunt Zhang gave me that disinfectant—it's supposed to be really effective against COVID."
"COVID? Mom, that was ages ago! Why are you suddenly worried about it again?"
"Ages ago? Never mind. Just wash your hands before the food gets cold!" Her mother returned to the kitchen, arranging the small plates on the table with practiced care.
Cui stepped into the bathroom and froze. The purple basin reeked of sharp disinfectant, filling the space with an acrid sting.
"Mom… what happened to our blue basin?"