Chapter 15: Losing Composure

Zhou Yi wrote fast, as though the answers were already printed in her mind and she needed no thought whatsoever to produce them.

Was this the speed of someone who’d never been to school?

And she was facing a test from the West University Affiliated High School, no less.

Mu Qinglin didn’t step any closer. Her probing gaze traveled past the girl in the affiliated high school’s uniform and landed on Zhou Yi. An image surfaced unbidden: Zhou Yi standing at the back door of the classroom, effortlessly tackling that physics problem.

…

“Here.” Zhou Yi finished the last stroke, handed the test and pen back to Yao Xiaoqi, and stood up in front of her. Her tone was impatient. “It’s just a few math problems. If you can’t solve them, study. If you can’t learn, ask. Does crying fix anything?”

“The college entrance exam is right around the corner. I’m under so much pressure.” Yao Xiaoqi sniffled. “My mom only lets me apply to University A. With my current state, there’s no way I’ll get in.”

Yao Xiaoqi’s plea for help was thick in her voice, but Zhou Yi showed almost no sympathy. “Then you know.”

Yao Xiaoqi looked at Zhou Yi in surprise. Her eyes reddened again.

Zhou Yi watched with a blank expression for a long time before speaking. “All of these are competition problems. The finals ended in November. What’s the point of doing them now? Screwing with your head? Once your mentality cracks, you might not even get into a regular first-tier university.”

Yao Xiaoqi clutched the paper, her voice timid. “But my mom…”

“Your mom isn’t you, and she’s definitely not a teacher. Why do you listen to her about everything?” Zhou Yi said, frustrated.

Yao Xiaoqi shrank her shoulders awkwardly. “My mom is the vice principal of West University Affiliated High School.”

Zhou Yi: “Then just pretend I was talking out of my ass.”

They had successfully killed the conversation.

Zhou Yi didn’t leave, but she was determined not to speak again.

Yao Xiaoqi collected herself, clutched her backpack, and stood up. “Can I come see you again? I, my classmates don’t really like me. They won’t talk to me.”

Yao Xiaoqi’s last sentence was barely a whisper, the ending trembling.

Zhou Yi clearly heard the fear in it. She frowned briefly, then refused coldly. “No. This is a tattoo parlor. We don’t serve minors, and we’re definitely not running a college prep class.”

Disappointment flickered across Yao Xiaoqi’s face. She managed to hold herself together long enough to say “thank you” to Zhou Yi.

Zhou Yi didn’t respond. Once the girl was gone, she raked a hand through her hair and turned to walk back.

Her gaze collided with Mu Qinglin, who had clearly been standing there for a while. Zhou Yi’s expression shifted from shock to anger and back to calm in a flash. As though she hadn’t seen Mu Qinglin at all, she walked quickly past and out of “Buddha Demon.”

Mu Qinglin stood still, her fingertips absently rubbing the medicine box in her pocket.

After a moment, she left the water cup and medicine with Little Hei and went to the front entrance of “Buddha Demon.”

Zhou Yi was sitting in the entryway, but without her usual hunched shoulders and tucked neck. The cold had scattered her poise all over the floor.

Mu Qinglin stood beside her for a few seconds and got straight to the point: “Did you go to school?”

Zhou Yi: “Nine years of compulsory education is mandatory.”

Only nine years of compulsory education? How could she solve high school competition problems?

Mu Qinglin didn’t ask that. She simply said: “Why didn’t you continue?”

“Boring!” Zhou Yi’s tone was restless.

“Do you want to go back?”

“No…”

“Then why do you still remember how to solve those problems? Why…”

“How annoying can you be!” Zhou Yi shot to her feet, her voice rising sharply. “Who are you to me? Whether I go to school is none of your business! Don’t think that just because you helped me a few times, you can boss me around!”

After that shout, Zhou Yi felt her ears and head buzzing. Her throat ached, though she couldn’t tell if it was from the volume or something else.

Everyone in Red Gate Alley who’d heard her outburst was turning to look, pointing and whispering.

She thought Mu Qinglin would be furious.

Nobody wanted to be yelled at like that in public, especially for no apparent reason.

But Mu Qinglin just looked down at her, her eyes so calm they sent a chill through Zhou Yi’s chest.

“I…”

“I’m sorry…” Mu Qinglin said.

Zhou Yi’s fists at her sides clenched tight. She heard Mu Qinglin’s voice, calm and gentle, telling her: “A reporter’s bad habit. Chasing every thread to its source. I overstepped just now. Go back inside. It’s cold out here. The cold medicine is with Little Hei. Remember to take it.”

With that, Mu Qinglin turned and left “Buddha Demon” without looking back.

She didn’t take the shortcut that led to the provincial TV station. Instead, she walked out through the nearby East Gate and disappeared the moment she turned a corner.

In that instant, Zhou Yi’s heart felt like it had been pinched.

Not hard enough to hurt. Just an ache. Secretive and lasting.

She unconsciously took a step in pursuit, then froze at the sound of the door opening behind her.

“Little Jiu, what were you yelling about?” Little Hei held the door open and asked, puzzled.

Zhou Yi pressed her lips together and said quietly: “Nothing…”

“Really?” Little Hei peered around suspiciously but found nothing unusual.

Zhou Yi silently watched the flow of people through the East Gate for a while, then turned and went back into “Buddha Demon.”

“Where’s the medicine?” Zhou Yi didn’t see it on Little Hei’s desk and asked with her back turned.

Little Hei hurried over and brought up the water and medicine box from below. “Someone came by with questions earlier. I was afraid of knocking it over so I put it down here. Hey, you’re just going to drink it like that?”

Little Hei was stunned by the way Zhou Yi downed the medicine without blinking.

Zhou Yi just gave a quiet “mhm” and carried the barely-touched water cup back next door.

Lunch was simple, made by Tang Yuanzhou. Zhou Yi didn’t eat.

Dinner had braised spare ribs. She only managed a small bowl of rice.

Over the next few days, she rose early and stayed up late, spending ten-plus hours at a time in the studio. She finished the full-back design commission nearly three weeks ahead of schedule.

With sudden free time on her hands, Zhou Yi realized that since the unpleasant parting that day, she hadn’t seen Mu Qinglin again.

Ever since Tang Yuanzhou learned that “Safe Jiangping” was a program Mu Qinglin’s team produced, he turned on the TV on time every day to show support.

Zhou Yi huddled near the radiator not far away and could catch glimpses from the corner of her eye. But she never once spotted Mu Qinglin on screen. Not even a voice.

…

“Little Jiu?” Lu Chang walked in carrying the chill of winter and patted Zhou Yi’s shoulder. “Why are you sleeping downstairs? It’s drafty here with everyone coming and going. You’ll catch a cold.”

Zhou Yi sat up groggily and asked what he needed.

Lu Chang glanced toward “Buddha Demon” and said in a low voice: “Is Brother Yuanzhou not around the past few days?”

Zhou Yi: “Mm. Went to judge some event. Back the day after tomorrow. Need him for something?”

Lu Chang: “No, not him. I want to ask you for a favor.”

Zhou Yi raised her head with difficulty. Her gaze swept past the heavily made-up woman behind Lu Chang and suddenly turned cold. “You’re trying to bring people here again?”

Lu Chang held up a finger in guarantee. “Last time. Never again.”

Zhou Yi’s stance was firm. “No…”

“Forget it then. I’m paying, and I still have to read the room?” the woman said, displeased.

Lu Chang quickly coaxed her aside and hurried back to explain quietly to Zhou Yi: “I got a lead on my sister. I need money.”

“You could earn it in other ways.”

“This is the fastest.”

“…”

“Little Jiu, help me one more time.” Lu Chang pleaded.

Zhou Yi stared at him, unblinking, until her eyes went numb. From her throat she squeezed out: “The usual spot…”

Lu Chang’s face lit up. “I knew you weren’t that heartless! Thanks!”

Lu Chang coaxed the woman upstairs.

Even from far away, Zhou Yi could hear her complaining.

Before long, ambiguous sounds drifted from upstairs.

Zhou Yi didn’t want to be here for another second. She wrapped a scarf loosely around her neck and went to the alley to find Facai.

The snow had stopped today and the sun was bright. Facai was lounging at Zhou Yi’s feet, soaking up the warmth.

Zhou Yi hunched her shoulders and slumped over her knees, one hand hanging down, her fingertips absently poking Facai’s pointed ears.

The sun was already low and slanted, stretching Zhou Yi’s curled-up silhouette out past the alley.

She followed the shadow idly, letting it extend all the way beyond Red Gate Alley, all the way to the towering building of the provincial TV station…

She’d never noticed before that the provincial TV station was visible from Red Gate Alley.

Then if she were higher up in the room, would she see more?

Like, someone’s office…

Pah!

What good was seeing? They weren’t even that close. And Mu Qinglin was so broke, her yearly salary probably didn’t match what Zhou Yi earned from one big design.

No money to gain, no connections to exploit. Why bother looking? Let her disappear if she wants!

Zhou Yi pinched Facai’s ear tip and forced herself to stop the runaway thoughts through Facai’s furious retaliation.

It lasted about ten seconds.

She pulled out her phone and followed the provincial TV station’s official Weibo.

So tonight was the New Year’s Gala.

For an event this big, everyone at the station must be running around like headless chickens.

“No wonder there’s no time to find dogs for this neighbor and cats for that one,” Zhou Yi muttered, poking at the screen.

The New Year’s Gala started at eight PM. The station’s livestream began at four in the afternoon.

Being a local station, the attention was modest. The comment section barely updated. Watching the dismal activity made Zhou Yi feel for them, so she sent a bouquet of flowers. Then she locked the screen. Moments later she opened it again and sent another bouquet.

The comment section was soon flooded by her.

“Our station actually has a die-hard fan.” Fu Xiao took a break and scrolled through three or four minutes of comments, nearly all from the same person. She couldn’t help remarking to Mu Qinglin: “They’re posting pretty fast.”

Mu Qinglin asked casually: “Posting what?”

“Flowers at the beginning. Then took a nap in the middle. Then started crying and rubbing their nose. Now they’re sobbing uncontrollably. Hahaha.” Fu Xiao was cracking up. “It’s like a soap opera using Weibo emojis.”

Mu Qinglin laughed and guessed: “Maybe some kid got hold of their parents’ phone.”

Fu Xiao: “Who knows. Hey, the username’s pretty unique too—Buddha Demon Nine.”

Mu Qinglin’s fingers on the keyboard paused briefly. She finished the sentence in one practiced burst. Then she pushed her chair over to Fu Xiao’s station and asked for her phone. “Let me see…”

Fu Xiao handed over the phone.

Mu Qinglin looked at the wall of /cry emojis for a few seconds, then clicked into Buddha Demon Nine’s Weibo profile.

A decent following. The daily posts were tattoo designs or self-deprecating slacker updates.

The most recent post was from half an hour ago: 【Facai: I’m not human, but you sure are a dog.】

In the photo, a pale, slender hand pinched the ear tip of a black-and-white tabby kitten.