Chapter 33

Shen Zhirou sent another three or four WeChat messages to Lu Yao, but they all vanished without a trace, receiving no reply.

Shen Zhirou: Yaoyao, I want to hear you talk to me.

Shen Zhirou: Are you there?

Shen Zhirou: I miss you so much.

Shen Zhirou stared at the WeChat interface and let out a self-mocking smile. She scrolled upward through their chat history. Lu Yao had scarcely ever responded to her messages. Their last real conversation had been before they met up at the restaurant. Everything after that had turned into Shen Zhirou’s one-woman show. She messaged Lu Yao nearly every day, sharing bits of her daily life or confessing that she missed her a little. But those words always disappeared into the void, utterly ignored.

A gentle breeze caressed her cheek, carrying away the tears welling in her eyes. She brushed them aside and sat there in a daze until the midday sun grew too harsh. Only then did she hail a cab and head home. After a shower, she ordered takeout but managed only a few bites before dumping the rest.

She scrolled through her contacts and tapped her mother’s number, placing the call.

When Ning Jianfang saw it was Shen Zhirou calling, her voice softened at once. “Zhirou, Mom knew you wouldn’t ignore me. I went too far yesterday. Is your face alright? Should I pick up some ointment and bring it over?”

“No need. I’ve heard all about the bride price nonsense. Don’t even dream about it. You won’t get a dime from me, and you can forget about squeezing anything out of Yu Mian either. And if you dare drag Ning Lei to Lu Yao’s place or my company to make trouble again, I won’t bother with security next time—I’ll call the cops. Respect goes both ways. Since you’re hell-bent on burning bridges, I’m not scared. It’s you lot who end up looking like fools, screaming and causing a scene. You’re not the only ones with mouths.”

Shen Zhirou’s voice was icy and detached, mirroring her entire demeanor.

As expected, Ning Jianfang blew up after hearing her out. “What do you mean by that? You want to cut ties? Forget it. Children have a duty to support their parents. Do you want everyone at your company to know you’re an ungrateful wretch who abandons her own folks?”

“Do whatever you want. Court it is, then. You never looked after me as a kid. Without Grandma, Mianmian and I wouldn’t have made it this far. The judge will take that into account. At worst, they’ll order me to send you a couple thousand a month for support. That’s that. I’m done.” Shen Zhirou hung up and exhaled a long breath.

Truth be told, she’d been parentless in all but name for years. The fragile pretense of a relationship with her mother over the past two had come entirely from her own endless concessions. Now it all seemed pointless. Without her stable job, would her mother give her the time of day? The answer was plain as day.

Her spirits had plummeted to rock bottom, and she couldn’t bear staying home alone. She fired off a WeChat message to Zhao Tongtong, asking if she could join her at a bar that evening—she needed a drink to take the edge off.

Zhao Tongtong called back almost immediately. “What’s going on? Pigs flying today? The perfect little good girl hitting up a bar?”

“What’s so strange about it? Can’t I go out for a drink now and then?” Shen Zhirou replied.

“You could, sure, but it’s not like you. Spill it—what happened? Need backup? Want me to clock out early and come over?”

Zhao Tongtong could tell something was off with her friend, especially after Shen Zhirou had taken the whole day off.

“It’s nothing, really. Just a rough few days. Keep me company for a few drinks tonight, and that’ll be help enough,” Shen Zhirou said, forcing a light tone.

“Fine. You can fill me in on the bad mood later. Eight o’clock, Crown Bar on North Street.”

“Sounds good. See you tonight.” Shen Zhirou hung up.

Her mind was a blank; she wanted nothing more than to shut it all out. She crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her head. Bad mood or not, she slept like the dead. When she stirred, it was past seven in the evening. A quick freshen-up, a white T-shirt on top paired with light denim shorts below, a swipe of orange lip gloss to perk up her face, a small crossbody bag—and she was out the door.

With drinks on the agenda, Shen Zhirou skipped driving and cabbed it straight to the bar. It wasn’t packed yet when she arrived. She claimed a booth, ordered a few cocktails, and nursed them while waiting for Zhao Tongtong.

Zhao Tongtong arrived almost immediately after finishing her meal. Shen Zhirou had barely taken a sip of her drink when Tongtong showed up. Seeing that Zhirou was already drinking, Tongtong hurried over and sat down. “What’s going on with you? Starting without me? No, something must be up. We’re such good friends—you have to tell me if something’s bothering you. Don’t keep it bottled up.”

“Yeah, there are some things that have really been getting to me.”

Shen Zhirou took a sip of the wine in front of her and continued, “My mom dragged that brother from my maternal uncle’s family to Lu Yao’s company to ask her to arrange a job for him. No matter how I tried to talk her out of it, she wouldn’t listen. And Lu Yao’s mother already didn’t like me much to begin with—now her impression of me is even worse. This house we’re living in now, with its renovations, garage, and all that? Her parents shelled out a million for it. Lu Yao’s mom thinks I’m after the money, so she made me sign an IOU. If we actually get married someday, I’m personally on the hook to pay her back that million.”

With every issue Shen Zhirou mentioned, Zhao Tongtong’s temple throbbed. Each one was bizarre enough on its own, but together? Her head felt like it was about to explode. “Holy shit, let me wrap my head around this. Your mom never gave a damn about you or Mianmian before—where does she get off dragging Ning Lei to Lu Yao for a job hookup? What does Lu Yao even owe her? No offense, but your mom is seriously out there. She’s a total Brother-Supporting Devil herself, and now she wants to drag you into it too?”

After venting that, Zhao Tongtong took a swig of her own drink, but it did nothing to calm her rising anger—instead, it only fueled it.

“I’m so pissed! This is ridiculous. And Lu Yao’s mom? Making you sign an IOU? That’s straight-up insulting. Does Lu Yao even know about this?” Tongtong’s face flushed red as her anger built.

Shen Zhirou took another sip and shook her head. “Yaoyao’s been swamped with work lately and hasn’t had time for this stuff. She probably doesn’t know.”

“You need to tell her! Her mom’s going way too far. What kind of person does that? You’re such a good person—how do you keep ending up with people like this? No way, I’m furious. Furious!” Zhao Tongtong was practically erupting, the type who could ignite without a spark.

Seeing her best friend so worked up on her behalf warmed Shen Zhirou’s heart, bringing a faint smile to her face. She tugged at Tongtong’s wrist, pulling her back down to sit, then said softly, “Don’t get mad. I was already in a bad mood—if I drag you down too, it’ll be even worse. I don’t want Mianmian finding out about this. She’s only been at her job a few days; I don’t want her distracted because of my mess. And I can’t tell Yaoyao either—she hates hearing about petty drama like this. You’re the only one I can talk to about it. Sorry, I shouldn’t have burdened you.”

“What do you mean sorry? Say that again and I’ll get mad at you. You should’ve told me sooner! I’ve got a million curse words queued up for that Brother-Supporting Devil Mom of yours. Treating you like a tool? Next time she pulls this crap, call me—we’ll go downstairs and tear into her. Let’s see if she has any shame left.” Zhao Tongtong’s chest heaved with indignation; she couldn’t stand seeing her good friend put through this.

Shen Zhirou gave a wry smile and went on, “You know what Lu Yao’s mom said to me today?”

“What? Spit it out already—don’t keep me in suspense! I’m dying here.” Zhao Tongtong downed another gulp of wine, fidgeting like an ant on a hot pan, waiting for the rest.

“She said my mom even brought up bride price with them—thirty grand if we get married. Lu Yao’s mom had me sign for it too. If we marry and then divorce, I have to pay their family double, sixty grand. But between the lines, she was basically hoping Yaoyao and I would break up sooner rather than later.” Shen Zhirou’s grip tightened on her glass, her palm faintly turning red.

“What the hell is this? Your mom and Lu Yao’s mom—they’re both nuts. I’m done. Zhirou, you can’t go back to your mom’s place anymore. She’s turning you into an ATM. Bride price? That’s ancient history, and it doesn’t apply to same-sex or opposite-sex marriages these days anyway. Stay far away from them. And Lu Yao’s mom with the double damages? Who is she guarding against? This is targeted at you.” Zhao Tongtong was even more incensed after hearing it all, insisting that next time something like this happened, Zhirou had to call her so they could at least yell together.

As Zhao Tongtong ranted on, Shen Zhirou actually felt a lot better. She’d made one call, and Tongtong had rushed over on her afternoon break without hesitation. But she’d called Lu Yao so many times that afternoon, only to get no answer every time—until it went straight to voicemail.

By afternoon, Shen Zhirou hadn’t dared call Lu Yao again. When the calls didn’t connect, the only one who ended up embarrassed was herself.

Lu Yao finally wrapped up her tasks at the company and had a moment to check WeChat. She saw that Shen Zhirou had sent a few of the same empty, meaningless messages as always, which put her mind at ease. That morning, in the middle of her busy workday, Shen Zhirou had bombarded her with five or six calls in a row, instantly sparking a surge of inexplicable anger. In the end, Lu Yao had simply switched off her phone. Shen Zhirou never had anything truly important to discuss anyway—and sure enough, it was just a message saying she missed her.

Lu Yao’s brows furrowed slightly. She decided that once she got home, she would have to have a serious talk with Shen Zhirou. No more of these pointless WeChat messages in the future; they were just a waste of her time. And absolutely no calls during work hours—they were too disruptive.

With a sigh, Lu Yao felt at a loss about what her relationship with Shen Zhirou even was these days. There was no denying that she enjoyed sleeping with her, but she despised these petty details of everyday life. Especially over the past few days, those useless calls had really gotten under her skin. She had plans to go out and unwind with a friend.

Lu Yao didn’t have many friends, but Chu Su was the closest. It was simple, really—Chu Su had a knack for reading the room. She knew Lu Yao disliked overly enthusiastic people and hated clingy friendships, so she always maintained the perfect balance in their interactions. That made her the most comfortable friend Lu Yao had ever had.