Chapter 1: Prosopagnosia

When it came to getting sick, Zhou Yi was far more dedicated than she was about eating or sleeping.

In the mere month and a half since winter set in, she’d caught three colds already.

Each one dragged on for seven or eight days before barely getting better, and after a brief reprieve just long enough to catch her breath, she’d launch headlong into the next one.

Sure enough, the last one had barely cleared up when her nose clogged again.

She couldn’t figure it out. How did a quick stop for steamed buns at the end of the alley give you a cold?

Was the famously fragile Lin Daiyu actually sturdier than her?

Zhou Yi was utterly spent.

When Granny Miao at the bun shop spotted Zhou Yi walking by, she called out warmly, “Little Jiu! We’ve got pork and cabbage buns today. Want a couple?”

Zhou Yi shook her head listlessly. “No thanks. Everything tastes like nothing.”

Granny Miao heard the hoarseness in her voice and asked with concern, “You were only just getting better. How’d you go and get sick again?”

Before Zhou Yi could answer, her nose stung and tears welled up uncontrollably.

Granny Miao’s heart ached at the sight. She quickly packed up a few hot buns and hung them on Zhou Yi’s wrist, then tugged up the hood of her down jacket. “Did you get your medicine? Then hurry home and warm up by the radiator.”

Zhou Yi nodded miserably and mustered what little energy she had to turn back.

Winter after a snowfall was suffocatingly cold. The wind cut across her face like a knife.

Zhou Yi walked backward a few steps before feeling uneasy. She ducked her head, bit down on the zipper of her down jacket and pulled it all the way up, then rubbed her chin along the edge to scoot the fabric higher, burying more than half her face inside.

Her hands didn’t waste any time either, thrust deep into her pockets, a bag of medicine dangling from one wrist and the buns from the other. She shuffled home at a crawling pace, as if on patrol.

Getting to the east end meant climbing a stretch of stairs. The snow on top had been packed smooth and polished by foot traffic, making it treacherously slippery. Several people slipped on it every day.

Zhou Yi was afraid of falling, and with her face buried so deep she could barely see, she had to inch down the steps with even more care.

She finally made it to the bottom, only to find her path blocked by a cluster of shoes.

Zhou Yi didn’t look up. She sidestepped to go around.

One of the pairs of shoes followed.

She tried the other side. Same thing.

Zhou Yi let out a quiet breath, stopped, and raised her head.

Four young men stood about a meter away. The one in front had a flat nose and a face so fat it was lopsided. Against that backdrop, his features looked like they’d been slammed into raw dough with the bottom of a wok. It hurt just to look at him.

“Big Bro, could you let me through?” Zhou Yi said politely.

The leader sucked in a mouthful of saliva and spat it viciously at the roadside. “You hit someone and think you can just walk away?!”

“…??” Zhou Yi’s drifting gaze settled on the leader’s face for a few seconds. She honestly could not place this person.

In that case, she’d never even seen him before. So who had she hit?

“Big Bro, are you sure you haven’t got the wrong person?” Zhou Yi asked patiently.

The leader reached behind him and hauled out a scrawny kid whose face was covered in scrapes, shoving him forward for Zhou Yi to identify. “Those marks on his face. Did you do that?”

“It was her!” Skinny Monkey jabbed a finger at Zhou Yi’s nose, his expression a mix of grief and outrage. “I was minding my own business walking down the street, and she kicked me flat on my face!”

“Shut up!” The leader slapped the back of Skinny Monkey’s neck and bellowed, “You got kicked to the ground and you still have the nerve to say that?! Huh?! You still have the nerve! Can’t even beat a girl and you still have the nerve!”

Skinny Monkey took a face full of the leader’s spit, hugged his head in grievance, and shrank back without another peep.

Internal affairs settled. The leader stroked his slicked-back pompadour, a hairstyle popular back in the seventies and eighties, with remarkable composure. “Little miss, don’t rush. Take another look and see if you recognize him.”

Zhou Yi didn’t need to look. The moment Skinny Monkey opened his mouth, she remembered. She had indeed done it. One kick to the lower back, sending him sprawling forward to eat pavement and grind his face across it.

So what?

Some people just had a thing for asking for a beating.

Zhou Yi lifted her eyes and curled her lips into a smile. “So what if I did?”

“Then apologize,” the leader said. “Forget the rest. I won’t hold it against you. Just give me some face today and say a proper ‘I’m sorry,’ and we’ll call it even. Deal?”

In the past, it definitely would have been a deal.

Zhou Yi always considered herself honest and easygoing, the type who knew when to take the outstretched olive branch.

This time, though…

Zhou Yi glanced at Skinny Monkey’s smug expression and said in a slow, weary voice, “I’m in a rush. No deal.”

The leader’s expression darkened, a note of menace creeping into his tone. “All it takes is opening and closing your mouth. It won’t cost you more than a second!”

“Oh…” Zhou Yi ducked her head, tucking the collar up around her tingling nose. “Sorry about that. My mouth moves slow.”

“You think you’re real generous, don’t you?!” the leader raised his voice. “This is your only chance. After this, it won’t be so easy…”

As the leader reached the second half of his sentence, a sudden gust of wind roared through the alley, freezing his vocal cords mid-threat. His pitch warbled and spiraled off into the distance. It sounded absolutely ridiculous.

Zhou Yi was in no mood for comedy.

That gust had just frozen the top of her skull solid.

The overwhelming discomfort drained the last of her patience. She couldn’t be bothered to keep arguing and simply stepped right on Skinny Monkey’s foot to push through.

Skinny Monkey shrieked in pain and leapt straight up.

At the same time, something struck Zhou Yi squarely in the back.

It was heavy. Even through the puffy down jacket, she felt the dull pain spreading in an instant.

“Did I say you could go?!” the leader roared behind her in his rough accent. “One word. Are you going to apologize or not?!”

Zhou Yi stood with her back to the group, silent, spine ramrod straight, motionless. From behind, she looked like that terrifying stillness before a storm. From the front, though… her nose was red and her eyes were brimming with tears.

She!

Really!!

Hated this stupid cold!!

Frustration washed over her.

Zhou Yi pulled a hand from her pocket to wipe her eyes. The instant it hit the cold air, she yanked it back and screwed her eyes shut, taking a deep breath.

When the stinging in her sinuses subsided, she slowly turned back around and looked at the leader’s eye-assaulting face. “Forget about today. Even if you were already six feet under, it still wouldn’t happen.”

At two in the morning, the director’s phone call yanked her out of bed for an interview. After that came a full day of spinning like a top, writing, rewriting, editing footage. By the time the program finally aired, Mu Qinglin was completely numb.

This was routine for a television journalist. Ever since she graduated and passed the exam to join the provincial station, it had always been like this.

“Sister Mu, still not heading out?” Her intern, on their way out, asked on their last breath.

“Just clearing my head,” Mu Qinglin said, looking up at the intern’s weathered face. “Think you’ll survive until the probation defense?”

The intern nodded with utter sincerity. “Nope…”

“Then shouldn’t you be drafting that resignation letter?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve got a template.”

“Sister Mu!”

The intern’s wail shattered the stale atmosphere of the office.

Mu Qinglin used the brief window of clarity to screen through the news pitches for tomorrow’s morning meeting. It was past eight by the time she packed up to leave.

It was still early. There was nothing waiting for her at home. After a moment’s thought, she decided to kill some time with a drink in Red Gate Alley.

Red Gate Alley backed onto the Yong’an River, its waters clear, petals drifting through every season. A few years back, the area had been renovated into a specialty tourist attraction, contributing a tidy sum to the city’s GDP. On the other side, modern office buildings like the provincial station rose one after another, towering over Red Gate Alley so completely that not a single ray of direct sunlight reached it before the sun began to set.

One side fast, one side slow. The two wildly different rhythms of life had zero impact on the people of Red Gate Alley.

They went about their business as they pleased, clinging to the historic district’s late-nineties architecture and resolute self-governance. The government wouldn’t dare demolish it and couldn’t renovate it. Development stagnated, yet the chaotic crowding from a decade ago persisted. Every so often, the place made headlines for one crime or another, and the neighboring districts all washed their hands of it, tossing it around like a hot potato.

Mu Qinglin’s first visit to Red Gate Alley with coworkers ended with her getting played, her phone and wallet lifted. She’d thought the place urgently needed cleaning up.

Later, she went back alone for a drink. The blatant music, the suggestive lighting, the roar of the crowd… the atmosphere was surprisingly authentic.

That authenticity was powerful enough to drown out the exhaustion of work.

After that, Mu Qinglin went often. Over time, it became a habit.

Another reason was convenience.

There was a small path connecting the provincial station to Red Gate Alley.

Following that path led to the east end of the alley.

The east end had fewer people, so Mu Qinglin walked without much attention: an even pace, wandering thoughts. The result was that the moment she set foot on Red Gate Alley’s territory, a compact human projectile slammed into her chest with enough force to send her staggering back a step before she caught herself. Below, her brand-new leather shoes from a few days ago were not spared either.

Thankfully, the projectile remembered to retract her feet, or she’d be limping into work tomorrow.

“Sorry about that! Didn’t expect someone to pop up out of nowhere here. That step on your shoe, I owe you one. I’ll pay you back after I deal with my trouble.”

When the figure spoke, she brushed a hand backward, knocking off her hood. That was when Mu Qinglin realized she’d been hit by a girl with clean, bright features but an expression that was anything but sunny.

It looked like someone had shoved her over by the shoulders.

The moment Zhou Yi finished her sentence, she was already turning to go kick someone.

Mu Qinglin’s eyes swept over the leader opposite them, a brute twice her size. Instinctively, she yanked Zhou Yi back. At the same time, she twisted sideways, caught the leader’s incoming fist, and used the momentum to slam it against the rough concrete wall.

The leader howled, “Aowww!” and instantly lost all fighting capacity.

The situation flipped in a heartbeat. The others exchanged glances, not daring to move.

An awkward, eerie silence dragged on until someone finally snapped out of it and rolled up their sleeves to charge.

“What’s going on? You lot again?!” A patrol officer’s furious shout rang out from nearby. “A twenty-thousand-word self-criticism not enough writing, huh!”

Having just recovered, the leader heard the officer’s all-too-familiar voice and shuddered all over. He spat out, “Zhou Yi, just you wait!” and bolted, his speed enough to make a national team coach weep with envy.

After the chaos subsided, calm returned to the surroundings.

Zhou Yi flexed the arm that Mu Qinglin still held in a firm grip and said with easy warmth, “Not bad. Didn’t know you had moves. Thanks for the assist.”

Mu Qinglin released Zhou Yi’s arm. She’d been about to say, “I’m barely better than you getting shoved around. I don’t really have any moves.” But the words felt wrong on her tongue, a little face-losing. So she changed tack. “You’re welcome.”

Zhou Yi beamed, stretched her foot out in front of Mu Qinglin, and offered generously, “Step on it. Double repayment.”

Mu Qinglin glanced down at Zhou Yi’s chunky snow boots and didn’t move for a long while.

“Not stepping? Then I’m heading out.” Zhou Yi hunched her neck. If she didn’t get back to the radiator soon, her bones would freeze solid.

Mu Qinglin shook her head, lowering her gaze to look at her. “You really don’t remember me at all?”

“Hmm?” Zhou Yi stared at Mu Qinglin blankly for a few seconds, then sighed. “Sorry about that. Sometimes I just go face-blind.”

Mu Qinglin let out a short laugh. She relaxed her shoulders and pointed toward the nearby junkyard. “Right over there. Last winter, you lured me into an adult massage parlor with a scrap of paper.”