Chapter 16

With her one day off over, Qin Yue returned to her busy, repetitive life.

Up at five-thirty every morning, at work by seven-thirty. Besides her own tasks, she had to mentor Gu Tao and deal with Wei Xincheng. She was busy, though the frequency with which she handled the complicated boards for those “old hands” Guan Xiangchen always complained about seemed to have dropped considerably.

When she got off work, she’d make practice boards for Gu Tao, work on Wei Xincheng’s central kitchen surveillance project, then squeeze out a little time for her own things, staying up until midnight.

Guan Xiangchen had complained more than once about Qin Yue’s schedule with literally no gaps.

Qin Yue felt it was just right.

Busyness forced her to stay disciplined. Otherwise, her body, her appearance, her energy might have already been ground down by the three-shift routine.

Maintenance Department.

The moment ten o’clock arrived, everyone set down their work and rushed off to enjoy a fifteen-minute break.

Qin Yue pulled Gu Tao aside and handed her a cardboard box. “There are several boards inside that I’ve modified. The ones marked with a one, I need you to find the problems and fix them. The ones marked with a two, I need you to draw out the schematics based on the signal flow.”

Gu Tao was surprised. “Master, do you want me to learn circuit design??”

“Mm. Machine welding is the mainstream, and as it advances, manual welding positions will only shrink. There’s no job security. Even if some remain, you can’t do it forever. Production lines always want young people with energy and time.” Qin Yue’s voice was mild, but full of patience. “Right now you might think piece-rate work isn’t hard. If you fall behind, you just put in more time to catch up. But in a few years, once you have a family and you’re getting older, it’s going to become a struggle. If your skills haven’t kept up by then, unemployment is the only path left. But Gu Tao, a woman without a career is a woman without a self. It won’t be long before you’re suffocated by the relentless, bone-grinding triviality of daily life.”

“Gu Tao, you like wearing seasonally appropriate clothes. You like putting on refined, pretty makeup. Could you really accept a life where you might have to ask someone’s permission, and read their mood, just to buy a cheap lipstick?” Qin Yue asked.

Gu Tao shook her head without hesitation. “Absolutely not!”

Qin Yue said: “Then accumulate as much as you can while there’s still time. Leave yourself room for the future. Whatever I know, whatever you want to learn, I can teach you.”

Gu Tao’s heart warmed, and her eyes reddened.

This was the first time since she’d entered the factory that someone had spoken so many honest words to her, and every single one was in her best interests. It was impossible not to be moved.

“Master, thank you,” Gu Tao said gratefully.

Qin Yue didn’t stand on ceremony. She only asked: “All the boards done within a week. Any problems?”

Gu Tao quickly opened the box and peeked inside, her expression falling. “Is one week a little tight?”

Qin Yue said: “When HR tells you to clean out your desk, they won’t care whether your savings can cover next month’s rent.”

Gu Tao froze, then hugged the box tight and said firmly: “I’ll finish everything within a week!”

Qin Yue gave a small “mm” and turned to leave.

Gu Tao suddenly remembered something and quickly called out: “Master!”

Qin Yue looked back. “Something else?”

Gu Tao’s face flushed crimson. She stammered for a long time before squeezing out a complete sentence. “In the future, during holidays, if you don’t have anywhere to go, you can come to my house. My parents are really warm and welcoming, and they’re great cooks.”

Qin Yue understood instantly. Gu Tao knew about her situation. If an apprentice knew, those veteran masters with deep seniority surely knew even more.

No wonder they hadn’t been pushing the troublesome jobs onto her lately.

That worked out perfectly. She’d be very busy over the next two months with no spare time to spend on others.

Qin Yue lowered her gaze, her words not exactly warm. “No need. I like being alone.”

She got off at three-thirty. Qin Yue had just stepped into the changing room when Master Cao, who had been transferred to the middle shift, rushed over in a panic. “Little Qin, could you please cover a shift for me? My son got into a fight at school and drew blood. His teacher wants me to go over right away!”

Qin Yue didn’t hesitate. “Sure. Hurry along.”

She watched Master Cao go, then fastened the buttons of her anti-static suit back up and headed toward the workshop floor.

She stayed busy until well past dark.

When Guan Xiangchen, rushing in for the night shift, saw her walk into the changing room, she asked in surprise: “Why haven’t you left yet??”

Qin Yue was brief. “Covered someone’s shift.”

“Oh, oh.” Guan Xiangchen nodded rapidly.

Then something suddenly occurred to her. She hurried over to Qin Yue, her expression grave. “A-Yue, walk a few extra steps and take the bus from the stop at Jiangping University’s South Gate.”

Qin Yue took out her hair tie. Her long, slender fingers slipped slowly through her dark hair, smoothing it out before she spoke. “There’s no direct bus from the South Gate.”

“I know, but the West Gate is under construction, right? I got off there half-asleep and looked up to see a gang of shirtless guys. Nearly scared me to death.” Guan Xiangchen thumped her chest in lingering fear. “They seemed to be talking about going to the intersection by the North Gate for barbecue. You know that barbecue stall, right? It’s right next to the bus stop where you catch your ride home! You are not going over there!”

Qin Yue laughed. “Stop scaring yourself. Teacher Shen said the school schedules construction every winter and summer break. Nothing’s ever happened.”

Guan Xiangchen wouldn’t hear it. “Just don’t go. With your build, if something really happened, you couldn’t even run properly.”

“Ah! I’m going to be late!” Guan Xiangchen shrieked and sprinted off.

Qin Yue shook her head with a smile, slipped her phone into her pocket, locked her locker, and headed out.

Outside, the sky was already pitch dark. Only a sliver of cold crescent moon hung quietly at the horizon.

Qin Yue was never a fast walker to begin with, and exhaustion made her even slower. Just shuffling out of the factory grounds took nearly ten minutes.

The street approaching midnight was silent and empty. When the wind blew, leaves rustled, painting the desolation after the bustle had faded.

Qin Yue stood at the roadside for a while, then decided not to worry Guan Xiangchen. She stepped southward.

Going south meant passing through a commercial street that had already gone quiet, with the imposing gate of Jiangping University rising before her.

One road. One side leading to splendor and prosperity; the other to years of unchanging, noisy mediocrity.

Qin Yue walked slowly and, for no reason, thought of Shen Jianqing.

Nearly half a month had passed since they met at the welfare institute.

In that time, they’d had one Friday.

That morning, as usual, she sent Shen Jianqing a WeChat message after getting on the subway, asking whether they’d meet that evening.

After sending it, she put her phone away, habitually assuming the reply wouldn’t come until the afternoon or evening.

But before one station had passed, a WeChat voice call rang from her pocket. The caller was Shen Jianqing, who was away on a business trip.

“Qin Yue, I’m boarding right now. I’ll be back in Jiangping this afternoon!” Shen Jianqing spoke fast when she was busy. “I bought some cordyceps and bird’s nest for you here. Come to my place after work and I’ll show you how to take them. Your gut health and immune system are terrible. You need to build them up.”

Qin Yue had been working on her health all along: an egg and a glass of milk every day, balanced meals, and seasonal fruit no matter how expensive.

Guan Xiangchen said she took very good care of herself.

But things as precious as cordyceps and bird’s nest? She’d only ever seen them in those lavishly decorated shops. She could never afford to buy them.

Her social circle was full of ordinary people scrambling to get by. Nobody would ever give her such things.

Shen Jianqing was the first. And at the friend stage, her generosity felt utterly at odds with Qin Yue’s current life.

The subway was noisy. Qin Yue leaned against the door of the last car, pressing her phone close to her ear. “Thank you. How much? I’ll transfer it to you on WeChat.”

Shen Jianqing’s voice rose. “It’s a gift! What transfer!”

Qin Yue looked at her own reflection in the dark glass and was quiet for several seconds before asking: “Teacher Shen, why are you suddenly so good to me?”

“Because my heart aches for you.” The words came easily, the playful lilt in her voice unmistakable. “Wait, this is the first time I’ve bought you anything. Where’s all this sentiment coming from?”

Qin Yue’s pale, slender fingertips brushed the back of her phone. “What I mean by ‘good’ isn’t just about buying things.”

Shen Jianqing didn’t follow. “What else?”

“You reply to my messages faster now.”

“…”

“Qin Yue, I already noticed the WeChat thing. Sorry. When I get busy, I just forget to check my phone.” A sudden wave of guilt. “But it’s not just you I reply to late. Everyone’s the same.”

Qin Yue said: “I know. When you work, you get completely absorbed. I saw that at the lab.”

Shen Jianqing sighed with relief. “I’ll try to reply to you promptly from now on.”

The subway arrived at a stop. Qin Yue shifted inward to make way for boarding passengers.

“I can’t have my phone at work. I usually settle everything that needs confirming before I start. But after hearing what you just said, next time I send you a message, I might just sit and wait. What if you forget about me again one day?” Qin Yue asked at an unhurried pace.

Shen Jianqing thought about it and asked back: “What do you suggest?”

The subway lurched forward. Qin Yue looked up again, meeting her own gaze in the glass.

“One hour late equals one minute of kissing me. Over a minute counts as a full hour. Special circumstances excepted,” Qin Yue said.

Shen Jianqing’s end went silent for two seconds, then she suddenly burst out laughing. “You sure?? How is that not a reward?”

The light at the corner of Qin Yue’s eyes swept toward her surroundings for an instant before she lowered her voice. “You said I’m very dominant when I kiss. Sometimes I leave you gasping.”

“True.” A laugh that was nearly a breath came through the receiver. When Shen Jianqing spoke again, her voice had turned slow and languid. “I forgot to mention something. One of the very important reasons I came looking for you again is that I discovered the kinks you satisfy.”

“What kinks?”

“Hearing some explicit things. Or, when I want something and you won’t give it, making me beg. Then there’s needing variety and…”

After a slight pause, Shen Jianqing’s voice dropped very low, like a murmur at someone’s ear. “Being able to hold me down.”

“So, Master Qin, really not considering a different request?” Shen Jianqing returned to normal volume. “Kissing? That looks like it benefits me, not like anything that’ll teach me a lesson.”

Qin Yue shifted her weight to the other leg and held the phone. “Not considering it.”

Recalling that voice call, the usual chill of walking alone grew thin and distant.

She rubbed the phone in her pocket, and a wicked thought slowly surfaced: it was almost midnight. Shen Jianqing would surely be asleep by now. If she sent a WeChat message now, Shen Jianqing wouldn’t see it until tomorrow morning. That meant even if she got up at six, she could kiss her for seven minutes when they met tomorrow evening. That would be unprecedented.

Qin Yue’s hand stopped rubbing the phone.

A few seconds later, she pulled out her phone and opened her WeChat chat with Shen Jianqing.

Qin Yue preferred texting. The keyboard was the full twenty-six-key layout, and without careful attention, it was easy to mistype. Especially now, as she walked through the darkest stretch between two streetlights, where her phone automatically dimmed the screen to match the surroundings, making the letters even harder to read.

So Qin Yue cradled her phone and focused intently on tapping out the message.

Two minutes later, after some deleting and editing, the message was sent. Qin Yue put her phone away and looked up, only to freeze when she unexpectedly saw a figure behind her raise a hand.