Chapter 2
Once they passed the banyan tree, they had truly entered Pingshun. Although the town was underdeveloped, with its flowing water and reflections of bridges, it was also completely removed from the hustle and bustle of the city. Pei Yunle kept her eyes open, watching the overlapping white walls and black tiles that were stacked high, blocking out the heat and light. Even in summer, a damp coolness flowed through the air.
The narrow, winding alley was just wide enough for the small three-wheeler. They followed the river south, passing women squatting on the stone steps to do their laundry, letting the flowing water soak the soles of their shoes.
From somewhere, an angry voice rang out, “Don’t dump things in there! Watch out or the people downstream will curse you out! How did your mother teach you? Whose family are you from…”
The furious shout shot straight to the clouds and pierced Pei Yunle’s eardrums, making them ache. She shifted her position, rolling her eyes for good measure. Country folk, for sure. They always talk so loud. It’s deafening.
A dull ache was starting to radiate from her rear, and her shoulder blades were sore from being jostled. She curled her knuckles and tapped on the metal frame in front of her, the sound traveling up to Chen Qingtang’s ears.
“Hey, how much longer? My legs are going numb.”
Chen Qingtang, focused on driving, shot out of another alley. Unable to speak, she could only shake her head.
Pei Yunle, growing impatient, shifted again in the cargo bed. It was already seven o’clock. Right now, she should be meeting her gang of friends for dinner, not being escorted like a prisoner. A few kids were even staring at her, some chasing after the back of the vehicle.
As a gesture of goodwill, Pei Yunle stretched her lips into a curve that was more grimace than grin and gave them a universally understood friendly gesture with her middle finger.
Her backside endured a few more merciless bumps. A crescent moon hung from a stray branch like a lantern. Finally, the vehicle stopped in front of an iron gate.
Pei Yunle felt like all her limbs had been shaken soft. She climbed down shakily and watched as Chen Qingtang knocked on the gate, producing a heavy, muffled sound. Then, she pushed the gate right open. The knock seemed more like a heads-up for the person inside.
The first thing she saw was a small courtyard. Three paths were paved with cobblestones, and all four corners were filled with flowers—red and pink, vibrant and pale, all mixed together. In the center of the yard was a small, empty table.
Pei Yunle turned her head and bumped into something, a tinkling sound ringing out above her. She looked up and saw a wind chime, but its pitch was high, startling her into backing away from it immediately.
Chen Qingtang walked half a step ahead of her. Pei Yunle leaned in close. “So, which room does that Grandma Liu live in? Should I go say hi or something?”
Chen Qingtang glanced at her, then brought her hands together and rested them against her cheek.
Pei Yunle pouted. Just as I’d expect from an old person, going to bed this early. But that was fine by her. It was better not to appear before an elderly person looking like this. They were mostly traditional, and it would be a hassle if she left a bad impression, especially since she was living under someone else’s roof.
The first floor was spacious. The only thing against the front wall was an altar. An incense stick in the burner had burned halfway down, its past wisps of smoke buried in the ash. There were no bedrooms here; no one lived on this floor. It was occasionally used for storing miscellaneous items. Perhaps because it was so close to the river, it always felt cool and damp, enough to make one shiver on a summer night.
Pei Yunle’s room was at the end of the hall on the second floor, right next to Chen Qingtang’s.
The room wasn’t large, but it was very tidy. Other than a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe, there was nothing else. She ran her fingertip across the desktop; it came away clean, without a speck of dust. The owner must have cleaned it in advance.
[There are extra quilts in the wardrobe. If you get cold at night, you can use them. They’re all clean, don’t worry.]
Chen Qingtang put down her phone and pointed to the wardrobe.
Pei Yunle didn’t pay the words much mind. She’d been a human furnace her whole life. Even in winter, her hands could get sweaty. Her mother always joked that it was probably a gift from the heavens.
But in return, the heavens had given her another “gift,” one that Pei Yunle always found hard to talk about. She had weather-related syndrome. For most people, their joints ached when it rained. Not her. As soon as it rained, even in 40-degree heat, she would get so cold she’d need to wrap herself in a quilt. The chill crawled out from deep within her bones; it was unbearable and incurable, unless she hugged something warm and soft and slept it off.
For now, she could only pray that it didn’t rain much here. Otherwise… with the already damp and chilly surroundings, plus the rain-induced body cold, she’d probably be tortured to death.
As her mind wandered, her arm began to itch. She scratched it a few times, then pressed a cross into the skin with her fingernail, leaving a swollen red mark on her pale arm.
“What time do you guys usually get up?” Pei Yunle loved to sleep in, so she figured she should ask first.
A moment passed, but the phone screen wasn’t offered to her. Puzzled, she turned around. The slender, smoky-blue figure was gone.
Pei Yunle muttered to herself, “When did she leave?”
She didn’t dwell on it, instead pulling a charging cable from her bag and squatting down to search the room for an outlet.
Her eyes scanned the corners, and finally, a patch of bluish-green entered her vision. Chen Qingtang was standing right beside her, holding a mosquito coil.
Having been squatting for a while, Pei Yunle’s legs were a bit numb. She tried to stand but failed, plopping back down onto the bed instead.
After following behind her for so long, this was the first time Pei Yunle was truly face-to-face with her, able to see her features clearly.
A dim bulb hung from the ceiling, casting a warm yellow light. The light was fractured by Chen Qingtang’s well-defined features, falling in shadowed patches on her jade-like skin. The corners of her lips were naturally turned up slightly, so Pei Yunle couldn’t quite tell if she was smiling or not.
A gentle night breeze drifted in. Pei Yunle felt a tickle on her calf. It was the hem of Chen Qingtang’s dress, made restless by the wind, which had lifted it up to brazenly brush against her leg. The fabric was smooth and slick.
But Chen Qingtang herself was oblivious, simply handing the mosquito coil to Pei Yunle. Every move she made was efficient, devoid of any ambiguity or hesitation.
Between the two of them, only the wind was taking liberties.
[Grandma makes breakfast at seven in the morning. If you can, I hope you’ll join. She likes having more people around.]
Pei Yunle’s expression turned troubled. At seven in the morning, she might not have even fallen asleep yet. “I’ll try my best. Is there an outlet in this room? I didn’t see one by the bed.”
Chen Qingtang walked to the window, reached out, and pulled something. A scorched-looking power strip was revealed.
[This is the only one.] Seeing Pei Yunle’s stunned expression, she added on her phone: [Don’t worry. It’s just a little ugly, but it values its life and won’t self-destruct.]
Pei Yunle estimated the distance between the power strip and the bed to be a few meters, completely dashing any hopes of lying in bed and playing on her phone. Right now, she wanted to explode on the spot.
Seeing her lie down on the bed and close her eyes, apparently with no more questions, Chen Qingtang placed a toothbrush and towel down, then took the restless wind with her and walked straight out the door.
Once she was gone, the room seemed to grow a little colder. Pei Yunle was exhausted. She flopped onto the bed, her eyelids feeling as if they weighed a thousand pounds.
In the dimness, her eyes snapped open again. She climbed out of bed to charge her phone. Staring at the ancient-looking power strip, she hesitated for a long time before finally tilting her head and plugging in her charger.
Her phone, which had been drained on the bus, finally got some juice. A flood of old notifications popped up—several missed calls, and her chat apps were all at 99+.
Pei Yunle swiped through them casually. There were messages asking if she wanted to go out for drinks tonight, some from friends who had spammed her, angry that she’d bailed on them, and others from friends who’d had another fight with their partners and were dramatically threatening to break up. Of course, those types never actually broke up; they were just looking to vent, hoping to use Pei Yunle as a sounding board to curse out their significant others.
The dazzling array of messages made her eyes hurt. Pei Yunle didn’t reply to a single one. Instead, she called Lin Zilan.
After a few rings, a cheerful voice came through the phone, its tone lilting upwards, accompanied by the heavy beat of DJ music.
Pei Yunle’s lip trembled. “Mom, I want to come home.”
“What did you say? I can’t hear you! Speak up! I’m square dancing with your Auntie Zhang.”
Pei Yunle immediately raised her voice. “I said I want to come home! Your daughter wants to come home!”
There were a few seconds of silence on the other end. Pei Yunle thought her mother was considering it and was preparing to burst into tears to win some sympathy.
“Oh, oh, so you’ve arrived at that grandma’s house! Well, be safe then. And don’t just say whatever you want like you do at home.”
Pei Yunle was speechless for a moment.
This only seemed to hasten Lin Zilan’s desire to hang up. “If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up. Someone’s calling for me.”
“Wait!” Pei Yunle instinctively reached out a hand as if to stop her.
After a long, frustrating exchange, Lin Zilan finally understood that one word. “What is it? Is there something else?”
“Dearest Mother, are you really not planning on giving your daughter some money to get through the coming days?”
“Didn’t I already give you money?”
Pei Yunle was confused, her eyes narrowing. “I have fifty-two cents in my bank account and nine dollars and eighty cents in my WeChat wallet. Where did you give it?”
“I did give it. I gave all your living expenses to Grandma Liu to take care of you. How is that not giving it? I just used it for you in advance.”
“You didn’t even get my permission!”
“Isn’t your money my money? Why don’t you talk about spending money without my permission? Just look at the mess you’ve made of yourself.”
At these words, Pei Yunle was like a cat with its pink fur standing on end. She shot up from her squatting position on the floor, forgetting all about her charging phone.
“This is called fashion, okay?”
“Well, I don’t accept it, okay? You just stay there and behave yourself. When you start acting like a normal person and realize you were wrong, then you can come back.”
With that, Lin Zilan was about to hang up again. At the last second, Pei Yunle tried to awaken her maternal love. “Mom, I was wrong.”
The response she got wasn’t Lin Zilan’s soft heart, but a DJ remix of “The Most Dazzling Folk Style.”
“Not accepted. When you find a job, I’ll let you come back.”
And with that, the call finally ended. “The Most Dazzling Folk Style” cut off abruptly.
Pei Yunle deflated like a popped balloon, slumping onto the cold concrete floor like a salted, dead fish.
A job. After interning at a hospital for a year, all Pei Yunle could say was that it was a fate worse than death. Asking her to find a job now was impossible. Not until she’d had her fill of fun.
Her deep brown, amber eyes darted around, taking in the gray-white walls, the wooden desk, and the small bed with its red-checkered sheets.
Channeling her inner cockroach, Pei Yunle decided to sleep wherever she fell. This place seemed pretty nice, actually. You could survive anywhere. Aside from having no money, it didn’t have any other drawbacks. It just meant no fancy food, no spicy drinks, no clubbing or card games.
Although, speaking of money, it seemed you really couldn’t survive without it.
Her total assets barely exceeded ten yuan. A bus ticket alone cost 320!
Pei Yunle opened her phone and sent a mass message to her friends: Anyone lend me 500 yuan?
Twenty minutes passed. No one replied. It was as if the 99+ notifications from before had been a hallucination.
In the thirtieth minute, she received two messages. One reply was: Is this really you?
The other: Your mom said I’m not allowed to lend you money. Otherwise, she’ll tell my mom about my eyebrow piercing. My mom’s a teacher; she’d drag me out of bed in the middle of the night for a beating.
Pei Yunle stared at the screen for a long time, then sent another mass message: Heh heh. 🙂
She tossed her phone back on the charger, lay down on the bed, closed her eyes, and conducted a deep analysis of her own nature.
In college, she’d watched her roommate work a part-time job and, on a whim, decided to try it herself at a noodle shop near the campus. Her only duties were clearing tables and washing dishes; she wasn’t even responsible for cooking or taking orders. She lasted six days, made 160 yuan, and then made a solemn vow: Never be a wage slave again!
And that was before the internship, which had tormented her until she barely resembled a human being.
The memories came and went like the tide. The bed was too hard. She rolled over unhappily and continued to think.
Then again, there weren’t many shops in this small town, mostly just small family-run businesses. She really didn’t want to work too hard.
Suddenly, Pei Yunle sat bolt upright in bed and turned her head to look at the room next door.
There was a ready-made convenience store owner right next to her. She looked so young, she should be easy to get along with. If she could just help out at her store, she only needed to earn that 320 yuan.
Chen Qingtang. To say those three words, the tip of the tongue had to tap the roof of the mouth three times before finally resting behind the teeth.
In the darkness, Pei Yunle unconsciously murmured the name. It was the first time she had ever repeated someone’s name over and over like this. A smile, tinged with the certainty of success, crept onto her lips.
