Chapter 12

Beibei’s heart lurched. She hurriedly braced herself against the desk and stood. “Aunt!”

Anqing had already turned to speak to Xie Yun. Her expression was so normal that even someone with their brains fried could tell at a glance she didn’t want a third person to know what had just happened.

Beibei could only keep her mouth shut and stare at Anqing in disbelief.

What kind of dirty, X-rated thing had her aunt just said?

Her hunch at lunchtime had been right. Her aunt was in a bad mood!

But why?

What could have happened while she was only bringing Teacher Chen lunch?

Beibei’s heart lodged in her throat. Even after Anqing left and disappeared from sight, she didn’t remember to close her mouth.

Xie Yun walked over and saw her standing there. “What are you thinking about? You look like you’ve been struck by lightning.”

As soon as Xie Yun said it, thunder really did crash outside, roaring like the sky was splitting apart. Beibei hurried back to her chair and muttered to herself, “It’s nothing. It’s nothing. I’ve been reading too many comics lately, and the content’s gotten so wild it’s fried my brain. That’s why I’m hearing things. That’s all.”

No!

That really was her aunt asking if she looked cheap and easy to sleep with!

Her aunt, who had zero dating experience and had never even kissed anyone!

Help!

What on earth had shaken her aunt up so badly?

Beibei was banging her head against the inside of her skull. She didn’t dare let a word slip, and she was nearly making herself sick trying to keep it all in.

And yet, after checking the drains, her aunt acted as if nothing had happened. Maybe she was just so reserved that no one could tell whether something was wrong. She checked applications for subsistence benefits, then called people one after another to remind them to pay their pension contributions.

Beibei sat across from her. Every time Anqing spoke, Beibei shivered like a newly hatched quail. She kept it up until she’d finished writing the mural publicity post and the workday was over.

Not that the workday was really over.

The rain had been falling for more than three hours and showed no sign of stopping. No one dared let their guard down. The reservoir was full, and a flash flood could come in an instant. Anqing checked the flood-watch roster they’d prepared in advance. Starting now, the teams would cover three days of flood duty in forty-eight-hour shifts. That was the plan as long as the situation remained under control and didn’t even reach a level-four emergency response. If the water level fluctuated sharply or neared the warning mark, everyone would have to stay on the levee around the clock.

Beibei and Shan Jia were on the first shift.

Everything was proceeding as planned.

Except Anqing, who wasn’t on duty, still didn’t go home.

Xie Huaixia put on her raincoat and boots and carried two lunch containers from the front door all the way to the back, but she couldn’t find Chen Li. Confused, she stopped at the kitchen door to call Anqing.

She lifted the brim of her hood and saw a vague white shape on the second floor. Tilting her head, she called through the rain, “Auntie Chen!”

Chen turned sideways, revealing her face. “Mm?”

Huaixia pulled her hood back on and dashed into the house. She ran upstairs and soon appeared beside Chen, panting, with a chair in tow.

“My aunt is on flood duty tonight, so she won’t be home. She told me to bring you dinner.”

Huaixia set the chair close beside Chen and gave her one of the lunch containers. “Eat. My aunt’s crispy squab is super good.”

Then she opened her own container and started eating.

Chen crossed her legs and rested an index finger against the clasp on her container. She didn’t open it.

BOOM!

Thunder cracked overhead, its long rumble trailing after it.

Huaixia took a bite of rice and looked up at the sky, which was pouring like a leaking roof. “Auntie, don’t be scared. I’ll come keep you company tonight.”

Chen paused and turned to look at her. “Keep me company?”

Huaixia nodded. “My aunt told me to sleep in her room with the door open. If you get scared, just call for me. I’ll hear you.”

Chen fell silent. She was fairly sure that even poking Huaixia wouldn’t wake her.

Chen didn’t point that out. Her finger, still resting against the clasp, curled back to open it and then pressed it shut again.

“Did your aunt come home?” she asked evenly.

“Yeah. If my aunt hadn’t come home, we wouldn’t have had crispy squab.”

So Anqing had come home, but hadn’t gone inside or said hello?

And what about the flood-watch photo she’d deliberately posted on Moments? Had Chen simply failed to see Anqing in it, or had Anqing really not been there?

Click.

Chen opened the lunch container again.

She released the clasp. A clear red mark had pressed into the pad of her finger.

Beibei had one on her face, too, from a branch that had snapped down during patrol. But she didn’t dare complain.

It was already two in the morning, and her aunt was still working.

Shan Jia had said she was revising the flood-control plan.

Anqing bent over her desk, pen scratching across the page. She looked perfectly calm, but there was a pressure about her that was impossible to ignore.

Beibei shivered, made a quick exit, and didn’t bother Anqing again for the rest of the night.

Not until the third day, when she and Shan Jia returned from patrol around noon.

Beibei wiped the water from her face and ventured, “Aunt, are you busy this afternoon?”

Anqing was discussing arrangements for HPV screening with the Women’s Affairs Director. She looked up. “What’s wrong?”

“Since the rain’s almost stopped, the school is starting to plan for the kids to get their report cards. They thought they’d hold a parents’ meeting at the same time and go over the semester. But for some reason, none of the multimedia equipment will turn on. Yanli’s really worried. She couldn’t get through to you, so she asked me to let you know.”

Anqing’s mouth tightened slightly. She returned to her desk and checked her phone.

Her phone was on twenty-four hours a day. Unless something unusual had happened, she shouldn’t have missed the call.

“It got wet.” Anqing dropped it onto Beibei’s desk. “Move my SIM card into that old phone of yours.”

Beibei agreed, then asked, “What about Yanli?”

“Once I finish talking with the Women’s Affairs Director about the HPV screening, I’ll go over. Twenty minutes at most.”

“Okay. I’ll message Yanli so she doesn’t have to wait.”

It had taken Anqing months of trips back and forth to the county to get the multimedia equipment approved.

There were only six sets in all, which they’d distributed as needed to the fifth- and sixth-grade classrooms.

Every day after school, the homeroom teachers played half an hour of English pronunciation practice for the children. They’d improve bit by bit, so that when they graduated and went to middle school in town, they wouldn’t be too shy to speak and fall behind the other students.

When the county had agreed to approve the six sets, it had set one firm condition: the school had to have at least one person who could competently operate and repair the equipment.

That was a lot to ask of the older teachers, who weren’t used to new technology.

But it was a one-time opportunity. If they missed it, they had no idea how long they’d have to wait for another.

Anqing had downloaded instructional videos, found people she knew to teach her, and worked for three days straight until she’d mastered the equipment well enough to pass the assessment on time. Afterward, she trained the teachers, performed routine maintenance, and handled emergency repairs herself.

Anqing hadn’t eaten lunch before she arrived at the school. Once she checked the equipment, she found that a wire had been blown into a tree by the strong winds a few days earlier and had snapped. She called an electrician, who fixed it in half an hour.

Xie Yanli finally relaxed. “Do you have a repair guide or anything like that? There’s so much to do at the village office already. You’ve got enough on your plate looking after that. It’d be better if we could take care of the school ourselves.”

“I don’t have one yet. I’ll put together the common problems and print it out.”

“That would be great. But then you’ll have to do more work.”

Anqing gave a polite reply. “You’re busy. I’ll head back to the village office.”

The village office sat at the center of several nearby hamlets, so it didn’t favor any one of them. The school had been built nearby for the same reason, so none of the children had to travel too far.

It took Anqing five minutes to cycle back from the school. She started putting together the repair manual as soon as she arrived.

She worked on it until ten that night. Beibei and Shan Jia returned from another patrol.

Beibei was stunned.

Tomorrow, her and Shan Jia’s shift would end, and Anqing’s team would take over. That meant Anqing would be on the levee for six days straight.

Was she made of iron?

“Secretary,” Shan Jia said, “the rain’s eased up a lot. You don’t have to worry so much. The two of us can handle it.”

She gave Beibei a nudge from behind.

Beibei took the hint and jumped in. “Exactly. Go home and get some rest. If anything happens, we know how to call you.”

They wouldn’t be so worried if the rain were scarce, but the rainy season lasted more than three months. Every year, Anqing stayed here and pushed herself until she was worn down. The aging wasn’t even the main issue; the physical and mental strain was.

Beibei’s gaze moved to the faint shadows beneath Anqing’s eyes. She looked utterly drained.

“Aunt, I’m not as stupid as you think. I can patrol a river and take a shift. Just go home and sleep for one night, okay? Just one.”

Beibei sounded completely sincere. Shan Jia gave her an approving look, thinking, Someone finally stood up for her.

Until then, she’d thought Beibei’s plan on the way back was just something she’d said in passing: If my aunt plans to stay at the village office again tonight, we’ll team up and drag her home if we have to.

Anqing leaned back in her chair, a pencil between the fingers of her right hand where it rested on the desk.

Seeing her posture made Beibei feel strangely guilty.

“Um, Aunt…”

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Anqing cut in. “I just finished binding the repair manual for Yanli. I haven’t had a chance to leave yet.”

So that was all!

Beibei let out a long breath. Before she could say anything, Anqing shut down the computer and stood.

“There’s a late-night snack in the kitchen. Help yourself if you’re hungry.”

Then she put on her raincoat and left.

There was no doubt that a big part of the reason she hadn’t gone home was that she was worried about the water level.

But there was also Chen Li.

For the past few days, Anqing had stayed away from home, but had made a point of prompting Huaixia to tell Chen she was on flood duty. Then, as usual, she’d posted a photo of the flood-watch station on Moments—with herself absent from it. She was making her refusal clear to Chen.

Today, she’d agreed to Huaixia’s request over the phone, but the moment she heard Chen’s voice, she’d said she would be home late. That, too, was a way of refusing her.

At seven that evening, Huaixia finished eating and called Anqing on her Xiaotiancai watch.

“Auntie, are you still not coming home? I miss you.”

Huaixia spoke from the heart. Anqing couldn’t bring herself to refuse.

“I’ll come home.”

“What time? I’ll wait for you.”

“Before eight.”

Kh—

A quiet cough suddenly came through the phone. The voice was so familiar it couldn’t belong to anyone else.

Anqing stopped shutting down her computer.

“Before ten,” she said.

Huaixia complained, “You just said eight.”

“I just remembered I have something to do.”

“What?”

“Help your favorite Teacher Yanli with something.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. Before Huaixia had called, Anqing really had planned to finish the repair manual before going home.

She’d only stretched the time a little. And picked a slightly convenient moment to do it.

On the other end, Huaixia corrected her first, then explained. “You’re my favorite. I’ll try to stay awake until you get home.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll call you when I get back.”

“Promise you’ll wake me up.”

“Mm.”

Anqing thought that all her repeated efforts to keep Chen at a distance had to have worn away some of Chen’s patience by now. No one would put up with this much for someone who wasn’t even her type, who was impossible to sway, and who didn’t know how to appreciate a good thing.

Maybe Chen had already given up. Maybe she was getting ready to.

Either way, Anqing would be glad.

She released the brake, pushed off with her foot, and rode into the rain.

The road was difficult to navigate in the rain, especially at night. Anqing took care the whole way and reached home at almost ten thirty.

All the lights inside were off. The house was silent.

It was what she’d expected.

Her exhausted, taut nerves gradually began to relax. She stood in the dark living room for a long time before setting her phone on the table, unbuttoning her shirt, and going into the bathroom to shower.

The rain continued to patter outside.

Chen finished editing the pictures she’d taken that day close to eleven, but still wasn’t sleepy. She hadn’t seen Anqing once in the last few days. But her Moments, Huaixia, and even Xie Yun, who came home at the same time every day, kept reminding her that Anqing could have come home.

She just didn’t.

Chen leaned back against the sofa. The feeling that things were slipping out of control grew stronger.

It was something she’d never experienced before. It left her restless and displeased.

Thump.

Chen shut her laptop with a cold look and threw on a jacket to go downstairs for water.

The rain had made the water cold. After she drank, she felt even less sleepy.

She took off the jacket, tossed it on the table, and decided to have a cool shower. Maybe it would quiet the restless feeling inside her.

Chen walked along the eaves and covered walkway toward the bathroom.

Halfway there, she looked up and saw light spilling from the bathroom doorway. She stopped and tried to remember whether she’d turned the light off the last time she’d been in there.

She was sure she had.

Then why was it on now?

Chen’s lips pressed into a line as she watched the light ahead.

If she remembered right, Huaixia hadn’t left Anqing’s room after eight.

No one else had come to the house, either.

There was only one possibility.

Splash.

A short burst of water came from inside the bathroom. It stopped for a few seconds. A shadow shifted, stretching longer and longer before appearing in the doorway.

Anqing had just showered. She wore trousers and a tank top, with a pale-green towel draped over her head, rubbing at her hair. She hadn’t had time to button the short-sleeved shirt she’d changed into. Each time she moved, the hem swung, stripping the uniform of all its usual propriety.

Chen stood at the other end of the covered walkway, watching without moving.

It was eleven oh three at night. Anqing didn’t think anyone in the countryside would be awake this late on a summer night in the rain. She wasn’t on her guard. Still rubbing her hair, she walked forward a little, paused, stepped back, then turned and went to steady a begonia pot the wind and rain had knocked over.

She’d been growing the begonia for five or six years, and the pot had gotten larger with every replacement. It was heavy and awkward to lift. Before she knew it, the towel on her head slipped down over her face as she bent to steady the pot.

She’d only just managed to right it halfway. If she let go, it would topple over again; if she kept going, the towel would fall into the rain.

After a brief hesitation, Anqing let the towel go and kept working on the begonia.

With her vision completely dark, she couldn’t tell what was in front of her. All she could feel was the towel rubbing harder and harder against her hair.

Just before it hit the ground, the towel suddenly stopped moving. The tug on her scalp disappeared. Then the weight in her hands lightened, and she heard a ceramic pot scrape against the stone tiles.

Anqing’s gaze dropped at once. Her breath froze. Someone slowly pulled the towel back up from her head.

It stopped where it had been before she’d gone to right the begonia, just brushing her forehead.

The towel had rubbed her uncombed hair back and forth twice. It was messier than before, strands of dark hair crossing her deep, still eyes. She blinked once, very slowly, and straightened. From the corner of her eye, she saw Chen’s hand withdraw from behind her and fall to her side.

“Is this spot okay for the flower?” Chen asked.

Her voice was as easy and unhurried as ever, slipping into Anqing’s ears.

Anqing felt that all the work she’d done over the past few days had been a joke no one else was in on. It hadn’t changed the outcome at all. All that had happened was that the begonia beneath the covered walkway had been knocked over and set upright again.