The conversation ended abruptly, and the two parted ways right on the spot.
Xie Lisheng had only told the truth. If she wasn’t willing to hear it, there was nothing he could do. He didn’t chase after her to argue the point further but stood there watching until she boarded a proper taxi before slowly turning his gaze away.
Suddenly, he lost all interest in the last sip of beer left in the can. Xie Lisheng found a trash bin nearby and tossed it in casually. Then he turned to answer his ringing phone.
“Met up already? How’d it go?” Little Aunt’s cool voice came through. “She’s the prettiest one yet—the best match for you in looks and everything else.”
His hand felt empty without the beer can, so he shoved it into his pocket. His voice was flat and emotionless. “It was fine. Nothing special.”
“‘Nothing special,’ ‘nothing special’! How many have I set you up with now, and you’re still acting like this?” Xie Zi fumed helplessly.
“You’ve met at least four in a row lately. Not a single one caught your eye?”
“Loosen your standards a little. This is blind dating, not a job interview.”
“Time waits for no one. Getting married is the priority for you right now—you know that.” She underscored the urgency of the matter.
“I know.” Xie Lisheng suddenly craved a cigarette, but his pocket was empty. He swallowed dryly to ease the itch in his throat.
He asked her, “But for something like marriage, do you really want me to settle?”
Xie Zi fell silent, offering only a helpless sigh.
“You’re not against getting married soon, but no one measures up, and you won’t compromise for any of them.”
“Then tell me what kind of person you’re into. That way I can help you look.”
“It’s not that they’re not good enough.” Xie Lisheng gazed out at the river, watching a sightseeing boat drift slowly past. “It’s that I don’t feel anything for them.”
A long pause followed on the other end.
Three seconds later, just before Xie Zi slammed down the phone, she yelled, “Remember this—if I drop dead one day out of the blue, it’ll be because you pissed me off, you jerk!”
“Go hit the streets and find someone who gives you that spark!”
~~~
It was a new week, and his calendar was crammed full of back-to-back work appointments.
Ever since Little Aunt mentioned she’d given her phone number to her birth mother, Lady Pan, Jiang Zao had felt like a sword dangling over her head—swaying unsteadily, liable to drop at any moment.
The trouble itself wasn’t so frightening. What terrified her was not knowing when it would strike or what form it would take.
In a couple of days, there was a planning meeting for the “Neper 2nd Generation” handheld camera project. She was handling the team’s presentation, and the initial proposal was a version everyone had brainstormed together and loved. The whole group had high confidence in the pitch.
On top of the new “Neper 2” campaign, she’d also picked up follow-ups on several offline promotions from the boss. The clients turned out to be no picnic either, leaving her with a constant headache.
Li Li had been stress-eating lately from work pressure, and her weight had ballooned. She was now on a diet kick, so during lunch break, she dragged Jiang Zao to the dessert shop near the office to buy some bread.
She kept talking about losing weight, but she ended up picking a meat-and-cheese-loaded sandwich. Plain bread alone, she said, would make her feel like nothing more than a grass-munching workhorse grinding away at the mill.
The two headed back to the company building on foot.
Li Li watched her eagerly peeling back the plastic wrapper from the bread. “You really love those lye water breadsticks.”
“You’re the first person I’ve ever met who actually likes alkaline water stuff.”
“Yeah, I love the texture.” Jiang Zao unwrapped it and offered her a bite. “Want to try?”
Li Li blinked, as if she’d been granted some rare privilege, and took a fond nibble. “Feels just like back in school, sneaking out with the girls for a snack.”
“You’re so pretty and gentle—you must’ve been one of those girls everyone fawned over, right?”
“I hereby apply to be your work buddy. You have to stick with me the most at the office.”
Jiang Zao watched Li Li munching away, smiled without saying much, and nodded. “Sure.”
She was just lowering her head to take her first bite of the alkaline bun—
“Little Zao? Little Zao?” A familiar yet strangely distant female voice called out.
Jiang Zao froze with her mouth open, five centimeters from the lye water breadstick.
Li Li reacted faster and turned toward the sound. She spotted a middle-aged woman standing in the shade just outside the company.
She was an auntie who looked her age but was still attractive—slim build, dressed in a skirt. Her permed hair was a bit coarse, though, and she carried an air of fatigue. The red lipstick only made her pale complexion stand out more.
Way more put-together than Li Li’s own mom, at any rate.
“Jiang Zao, is that auntie calling you?” Li Li asked.
Li Li turned back after asking and saw a face even paler than the auntie’s. She jumped. “You okay? You…”
Jiang Zao forced a smile, urgency flickering in her eyes as she gently nudged her. “Just an elder I know. You go on ahead—I’ll head up in a minute.”
Li Li didn’t dare ask any more questions upon seeing how serious she looked. She nodded and glanced back at the woman one last time before leaving.
The woman gave her a smile, her gentle charm bearing a faint resemblance to Jiang Zao’s.
Jiang Zao slowly lowered the hand clutching the alkaline bun, her posture stiffening like a cat on high alert, hackles raised. She turned around, her tone already sharp. “Who told you I work here?”
“Who said you could just show up at my company like this?”
She hadn’t seen Pan Yu in two or three years, and every time they met, the woman seemed to have aged a decade overnight.
The instant she caught sight of her mother’s face, Jiang Zao’s eyes flickered, a heavy pressure settling on her chest.
Pan Yu wasn’t frightening in herself. She had never mistreated Jiang Zao while she was growing up.
But Pan Yu embodied that endless, suffocating stretch of time. One look at her face dragged Jiang Zao right back to her cloistered, bewildered days of helpless, maddening frustration.
And over the years, her mother’s actions had only reinforced the pattern: whenever this birth mother appeared, Jiang Zao’s life turned into utter chaos.
Pan Yu drew closer. When Jiang Zao instinctively took a step back, the smile on her face grew even more rigid. “Of course I asked your little aunt.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d come back to Qinnan? Move back home. Don’t waste money renting some place outside.”
“You want me living with you and some stranger?” Jiang Zao fought to keep her rising agitation in check. “If I don’t reach out to you, doesn’t that tell you anything? Who gave you permission to barge in here?”
Pan Yu’s composure cracked under the barrage of cutting words. “You’re an adult now. Talking to your parents like that, with no manners or respect—people will look down on you.”
“Thanks to you, they always have.” Jiang Zao’s fingers tightened into fists, mangling the alkaline bun in her grip.
The mere sight of her set old wounds itching beneath the skin, as if they might split open along their scars.
Jiang Zao shot her a glare but said nothing more. She spun on her heel and stalked off, her steps carrying the air of flight.
“Wait! I’m your mother, not your enemy!” Pan Yu hurried after her and seized her arm. Cheap foundation cracked across her agitated face in fine lines. “I’ve only been back in Qinnan a short while, and I can’t afford the hotel anymore. Do you have any money?”
“Just spot me some for now. I’ll pay you back once I get on my feet. I asked around—this is a big company. The pay must be great.”
“You’re not married. What’s the point of hoarding all that cash? Your mom hasn’t had a decent meal in days. You…”
“If you won’t give it to me, I’ll have to go to your little aunt again…”
“Don’t you dare!” Jiang Zao whipped around and yanked her arm free, her voice spiking out of control. A few Yunsheng employees passing nearby turned to stare.
Jiang Zao felt their eyes like pinpricks on her skin, her face burning. She glared at Pan Yu, lips quivering with fury. “Every time she hands you money, she has to face your Aunt’s Husband’s disapproval! You’ve never cared about anyone but yourself!”
Pan Yu met her gaze, her expression uneasy, but she fell back on the same tired excuses as always. “She’s my own sister. Back when we were kids, if I hadn’t protected her, she would’ve gotten beaten by Dad just as bad.”
“Your little aunt owes me that much…”
The sidelong glances from onlookers multiplied.
Jiang Zao’s scalp prickled unbearably. She shoved the flattened bun into her pocket, fished out her wallet, and with trembling fingers dumped every last bill into Pan Yu’s hands, slapping them against her chest.
One coin slipped free and hit the floor, rolling away with a clatter.
“Take it. All of it.” She jabbed her empty wallet toward Pan Yu. “Don’t let me see your face again. Come here one more time, and I’ll call the cops.”
~~~
She bolted for the sanctuary of the lobby restroom like a fugitive. Only when she twisted the faucet did Jiang Zao realize her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She smacked her left against her right, but it did nothing to still the tremors wracking her limbs.
A stranger pushed through the door. Jiang Zao hastily shut off the water, ducked aside, and dried her hands.
Emerging, she sought out a quiet corner. Remembering the uneaten bun in her pocket, she pulled out the battered alkaline bun, peeled back the wrapper, and forced a bitter bite past her lips.
She gulped several times, but the morsel wouldn’t go down. Her eyes suddenly brimmed with stinging tears. She balled up the bun and hurled it at the wall—
Thud. It struck with a dull smack and tumbled to the floor.
She stepped forward to retrieve it. Once bent low, she stayed that way for a long moment.
By the time Jiang Zao scooped the bun from the ground, her face had smoothed back to its usual composure. She clipped her work badge into place and made for the elevators.
~~~
The lunchtime confrontation had rattled her so badly that Jiang Zao’s afternoon productivity tanked. She stayed late to catch up before calling it a day.
Night had fallen over the city, bringing a light drizzle with it.
Jiang Zao worked straight through until half past nine. When she finally looked up, only three or four souls remained scattered across the office floor.
Her stomach was growling uncomfortably. Going hungry only deepened her low mood. She caught the company’s late shuttle bus home and finally made it downstairs to her building at half past ten.
Jiang Zao held her phone in one hand, tapping out an order for takeout, while fumbling for her keys with the other to unlock the door. The lights were on inside, but the living room stood empty. Her roommate was wasting electricity again—she’d told her a dozen times not to leave the living room lights blazing at night.
She let out another frustrated huff, yanked open the shoe cabinet, and slipped into her house slippers. That’s when her ears picked up some faint, indistinct noises.
Jiang Zao was hypersensitive to certain kinds of sounds. The moment she registered the anomaly, her eyelid twitched.
Her roommate’s master bedroom was the one nearer the entrance, and with the living room so deathly quiet, the unmistakable sounds of a man and woman getting it on carried all too clearly.
Rage bottled up inside her like traffic jammed at a four-way stop. Jiang Zao felt the muscles in her face stiffen and twist out of shape. She forced herself to ignore it, hoisting her bag as she headed for her own bedroom.
They’d clearly agreed… They’d laid it all out when they first started rooming together… Why couldn’t they just respect other people for once… They’d settled it upfront…
She’d just reached her bedroom door when a wild, ecstatic yet agonized scream pierced through from the other side. The last thread of her patience snapped. Jiang Zao whipped around and stormed to the master bedroom, balling her fist and hammering on the door. “Zhou Ying! Zhou Ying—get out here!”
Jiang Zao pounded relentlessly. No answer from inside, so she kept on.
The heated passion in the master bedroom ground to a halt at her knocking and shouting. Hushed murmurs followed between the man and woman, culminating in Zhou Ying’s petulant whine: “Who cares about her? Get back to it!”
The man seemed fired up by some perverse thrill and redoubled his efforts, drawing a string of shrieks from Zhou Ying.
Those noises drilled into Jiang Zao’s ears, sending her mind into a buzzing haze of itchy numbness—like countless dormant insect eggs suddenly sprouting wings, swarming and devouring from within her shell of a body.
The frayed cord of her reason gave way too. She snatched up her crossbody bag and smashed it against the door. “Bang!!”
When fury takes over, people act on raw instinct without a second thought. Jiang Zao’s breaths came in ragged gasps. She glared at the door, spun on her heel, grabbed the potted plant off the cabinet, and hurled it—
The ceramic pot exploded against the door in a shower of shards, dirt spilling everywhere.
She flung open the toolbox, seized the longest hammer inside, and swung it hard at the master bedroom door—
“Bang!”
“Bang!!”
“Bang!!!”
Only when the door was buckling and warping under her assault did the pair inside finally scramble into their clothes and fling it open.
Jiang Zao dropped the hammer with a clatter and flashed them a smile at the sight of their stunned, furious faces. “Can we talk now?”
“You fucking psycho!” Zhou Ying lost it completely, shoving past her boyfriend’s restraining arm and lunging at Jiang Zao with a wild swing—
~~~
Midnight at the Street District Police Station.
Jiang Zao sat in the mediation room with her hair a tangled mess and half her face puffy and red, her eyes staring vacantly into space.
The police officer’s scoldings washed over her in endless waves, sliding in one ear and out the other like incomprehensible chants.
She lifted her gaze to take in the far more dramatic bruises and scrapes marring the couple across from her, then dropped it again.
Spotting her distraction, the police officer rapped his knuckles on the table and bellowed, “Hey, I’m talking to you! Call your family—friends if you have to. Sitting here alone isn’t getting you anywhere!”
Her phone chose that inopportune moment to ring.
Jiang Zao shot a glance at the police officer, now turned to chew out the other two, and quietly answered, pressing it to her ear. “Hello, who’s this?”
“I’m pulling up downstairs at your place. Waiting on those new earbuds of yours.” Xie Lisheng’s voice drifted through.
She froze. “How did you… get my number…”
In the next instant, Jiang Zao clutched the phone tighter, a flush of awkwardness creeping in as she mumbled, “Don’t bother coming all this way—I’m not home.”
“Not home? Out gallivanting in the dead of night on a weekday?” He sounded amused.
She couldn’t say why, but his easygoing drawl eased the knot of tension she’d felt even under the police officer’s glare.
Jiang Zao tugged at the corner of her mouth out of habit, only to wince from the pain, and lied smoothly, “Yeah, just meeting some friends. I finished work already.”
“You even put in voluntary overtime today.”
Her boss drawled from the other end, “Says a lot about how inefficient you are during regular hours. Expecting a pat on the back?”
She picked at the hem of her shirt. “Wasn’t fishing for praise.”
“I won’t oversleep tomorrow morning. Won’t be late. Won’t hold up work.”
The police officer noticed then and slammed a hand on the table. “Hey! You know where you are? Making googly eyes on the phone now?”
Jiang Zao threw a timid glance at the police officer and rushed into the phone, “We’ll sort the earbuds later—really not a good time today. Gotta hang up.”
No reply came. Just the mechanical click of a turn signal from his car.
Jiang Zao eyed the still-active call screen, thumb hovering over the end button, when his voice filled the receiver once more—
Xie Lisheng’s tone grew indifferent, the leisure vanishing from it.
“Is it inconvenient, or have you run into some trouble?”