Chapter 62: The Second Son of the Su Family

Creak… creak…

It was the sound of the hydraulic lift rising.

Footsteps came, a bit messy, sounding like three people.

The silhouettes blocked the light from under the door crack. Qi Ran’s heart lifted slightly. She never imagined that a scene from a movie would one day play out in her own life. The lower end of the forklift slid into the grooves of the wooden support board under the crate, then lifted steadily, turned, returned to the hydraulic lift, and slowly descended.

She heard a voice from outside the crate door. It seemed to be one of the three workers unloading the goods. His voice was too young, sounding like a teenage boy: “Uncle Liu, after this delivery, is that all for today?”

Qi Ran frowned slightly. Because of Li Siwen, she felt a little uncomfortable about eavesdropping on someone else’s conversation, but the current situation clearly left her no choice. The chatter just outside the crate fell into her ears, exceptionally clear.

The man the boy called Uncle Liu had a teasing tone, joking: “Little Su, it’s only been two trips, are you tired already? If you really can’t handle it, go back and rest in the front of the truck. Don’t worry, I won’t tattle to your dad.”

“It’s not that I’m tired, just a little hungry,” the boy’s voice sounded a bit embarrassed. “I’m doing the lightest work. You and Uncle Zhang are doing most of it. How could I have the nerve to go rest?”

Uncle Liu’s voice from the other side carried a hint of laughter: “Alright, stop with the polite talk. After we finish this trip, we’ll go grab a bite and rest. How about rice noodles?”

“Sure, Uncle Liu, rice noodles it is,” the boy’s voice smiled. “When I was away, I kept thinking about rice noodles… Last time I had them was last year.”

Qi Ran listened quietly, roughly piecing together the identities of the three workers. The two older men did the moving. The boy was most likely the boss’s son, studying abroad. He was brought along by the old employees to do some labor, to understand the hardship of earning money. Very common—the favorite educational method of self-made bosses.

Of course, the effect of this method was generally unsatisfactory. Because the old employees, who had become shrewd as goblins, would never actually let the boy do hard labor. Even if the boss said, “Just treat him like a newbie,” it was the same. Could you really trust the boss’s words? If the boy accidentally got hurt, the bad luck would fall on them. They would only find easy tasks for him, like playing house. These two old employees were just accompanying this boy, who had no worries about food or clothing, to play a game called “Taste the bitterness of life.”

The only lesson this boy would most likely learn was: the feeling of having a rich father is simply too good. Everyone is incredibly friendly to him, everyone is so kind to him, because he is the boss’s son. This thought would directly destroy the concept the self-made father had tried countless times to convey to his son: “Rely on yourself, not on your parents.” But what could be done? This was already the best educational method the father could think of. Just by understanding that “learning resources are the most important” and “his son’s education cannot be neglected,” he was already far ahead of countless other self-made bosses. This was the best he could do.

Qi Ran’s mind wandered. She had to find something to think about, because only then could she briefly ignore the awkwardness of the cramped space inside the crate. After the initial tension faded, silence and awkwardness took its place. Jiang Zhique’s attention seemed focused on her hair, her fingertips slowly winding around that strand of blue, observing meticulously, making it impossible for Qi Ran to move.

Jiang Zhique’s grasp of personal distance between friends was truly peculiar, Qi Ran thought. Perhaps it was more appropriate to use Jiang Zhique’s term, “companion.” Her understanding of the proper distance between companions was very different from ordinary people.

In some areas, Jiang Zhique maintained a very clear and distant boundary. In others, she would unconsciously maintain a very close and frank proximity—she wouldn’t joke or make meaningless small talk to bridge the gap like ordinary friends. She was always serious, only speaking of necessary topics, which felt a bit distant. Yet in other matters, like calmly accepting the fact of suddenly having a roommate, sharing shampoo and shower gel without hesitation, or… natural physical contact, or—winding fingers through hair—these things felt somewhat strange in their psychological closeness.

The girl’s expression showed nothing wrong. So Qi Ran didn’t ask any questions, just allowing those fingertips to unconsciously toy with the ends of her blue hair.

After spending this time together, she felt she could probably guess why Jiang Zhique acted and thought this way. It was because of a lack of familial affection. So Jiang Zhique wasn’t satisfied with the concept of “friend,” replaced instead by “companion,” a closer relationship. The word “companion” in her mind was probably a relationship of “sharing weal and woe, standing together through honor and disgrace.” In other words, the relationship that family and blood relatives should theoretically have.

Qi Ran sighed inwardly. This kind of thought was essentially like an only child fantasizing about having a reliable older brother or sister who would dote on them, or a cute younger sibling who would completely depend on and trust them. It was fundamentally pure idealization. Because they didn’t have it, they infinitely glorified it, ignoring the problems that might come along with the good.

Just like for Qi Ran herself, who actually had a twin sister, there was no innate intimacy between blood relatives. She and Qi Xin were like two repelling magnets, completely disconnected. Forcing them to share a room would only make the silence last an entire day, solidifying every inch of air.

The cart seemed to have been pushed into the elevator. The “beep” of the button being pressed was very clear. As the elevator door slowly closed, Qi Ran suddenly felt a little strange. Beyond the layer of the crate, there was the shell of the elevator, like a shell within a shell—she shook her head, tossing this inexplicable feeling to the back of her mind.

“Uncle Liu, where does this stuff need to go?” she heard the boy’s voice ask.

“Let me see… 6014. Probably go left, then all the way to the end, turn right, third room on the left. Push the cart in, remember to lock the wheels to prevent sliding. You don’t need to unload the crate. The people here will handle that. We’ll go back down and get the rest. You just take care of the crate,” Uncle Liu said.

“Alright, so after I’m done, do I just go straight down?” the boy asked.

“Just head back to the truck. We’ll go grab something to eat nearby once everything’s done. Oh, right, don’t go into the wrong room,” Uncle Liu added, as if remembering something, unable to hold back a chuckle. “Your Uncle Zhang once remembered the wrong room. Pushed open the door, and the person happened to not have locked it. Walked right in on them doing their business. Almost got beaten up.”

The boy’s voice sounded distressed, stammering: “Isn’t this a KTV? Don’t the police care?”

Uncle Liu’s voice seemed to freeze for a moment, then he and the other worker burst into laughter. The sound of a shoulder slap came. The other man, Uncle Zhang, teased: “You’re a good kid, stay that way. Your Uncle Liu here isn’t a good sort. Don’t learn from him. That person’s bound for a jail cell someday.”

The boy laughed awkwardly, then pushed the cart and left the elevator.

Left, right. Qi Ran heard the sound of a door opening. The cart was pushed inside. The boy seemed to let out a long sigh. He didn’t leave directly but answered a phone call: “Hello? Song Qing, what’s up?”

“Need one more for four? No, you guys start without me… What am I doing? I’m moving cargo… No, my dad wants me to get some experience… Yeah, it’s pretty absurd. I’m completely numb… Weekend get-together? Sure. First off, I’m allergic to alcohol, can’t drink. And tell your brother to stop inviting those weird outsiders. His taste astounds me. Those two squeaky-voiced maids last time, their voices gave me a headache. Calling me ‘Young Master’ with that voice, almost made me sick. Does your brother actually like that clipped, high-pitched voice? Also, don’t pull any of that BL stuff, I beg you… Screw you, isn’t a femboy just gay? Let’s just hang out normally, don’t be gross… Okay, Sunday it is… Alright, it’s a deal.”

Qi Ran listened quietly, thinking, These rich young masters really do live such peaceful lives. In front of those two old employees just now, the boy had acted like an aspiring, earnest young man. Even she, an observer, had almost been fooled.

After the boy hung up, he sighed again. Then came the sound of receding footsteps and a door closing. Qi Ran waited quietly for a moment. After hearing no sound of his return, she pushed the door open and left the crate with Jiang Zhique.

Jiang Zhique didn’t leave the room directly. Instead, she glanced around the room, her gaze stopping at the doorway, in front of the open door.

Qi Ran paused slightly, then suddenly stiffened—she turned her head. To the left, the door to the washroom was closed.

The light that had been on inside had been quietly turned off. There wasn’t a single sound. It was as if the door had been shut from the very beginning.

“He already heard us. He probably wants to secretly turn off the light, pretend he isn’t in the washroom. Quick reaction,” Jiang Zhique said. She closed the room door, even locking it on the way. She called out to the washroom, “Su, that’s the surname, right? Come out and chat?”

Not a single sound came from the washroom, as if the light turning off had just been an illusion.

“Don’t worry, we’re not Executors.”

Still no response.

Jiang Zhique walked to the washroom door, her knuckles knocking on the door. Looking at the still completely unresponsive washroom, she sighed softly.

“A question beforehand… Are you afraid of snakes?”