Lover 09

Chapter 9: I like you—but I like Shanghai more

The more she kicked and shooed it away, the more it stuck to her. It followed her even into the bathroom.

Zhuang Jie began to suspect that it wasn’t only humans who could develop Stockholm syndrome—apparently geese could too.

But He Niaoniao had a different opinion. She insisted this goose was intelligent, capable of reading the situation and knowing exactly who held authority in the household. Because whenever Liao Tao annoyed it, it would immediately run to Zhuang Jie. Yet despite the fact that He Niaoniao fed it, mixed its food, and gave it water every day, the goose never even bothered to glance at her.

Zhuang Yan video-called to ask if the “Ji Mountain goose” was there. Zhuang Jie called out, “Third goose! Third goose!”

Zhuang Yan corrected her immediately: “It’s Ji Mountain goose, not Third Goose.”

Zhuang Jie didn’t bother arguing. She handed the phone to He Niaoniao and went upstairs to wash up.

While brushing her teeth, she checked her phone and saw a WeChat message from Chen Maidong. She had no intention of replying—who knew what kind of mood he was in tonight.

After washing up, she mixed some warm water, cleaned her residual limb, applied care cream, and massaged it for a while. Then, leaning on her crutches, she went back to the bathroom to clean the silicone liner. The liner, which directly contacted the residual limb, had to be washed daily; otherwise bacteria would grow, and sweat would accumulate inside.

The silicone liner wasn’t cheap. Even through a connection, it cost eight thousand yuan. On the market, it went for twelve thousand. Its only drawback was that it was stifling and made it easy to sweat, but in terms of comfort, it was still the best and most convenient option available. It also solved the problem of the long time required to wear a prosthesis.

The next day, the town arranged a car to pick up a yam procurement agent, and Zhuang Jie went along. She wanted to settle things quickly and return to Shanghai—there was an urgent hospital visit she had to make, or someone else would poach it. She had been following this case for months; she couldn’t just drop it and leave.

At the inspection site in Yanggou Village, the procurement agent hesitated for a long time without giving a clear answer. It wasn’t that the yams were good or bad—he simply said several other planting zones were also in contact with him, and he was in a difficult position.

Difficult my ass, Zhuang Jie cursed inwardly. She could see exactly which way the wind was blowing.

She privately invited him to a meal and told him the factory could still report the original price, but they would later issue him a separate price—then she gestured a number with her hand.

The agent smiled shrewdly. “That might not be… within regulations.”

Zhuang Jie waved her hand. “Rules are made to be broken.”

The agent laughed heartily and called her straightforward.

The next day, he signed the purchase contract with the town and paid a deposit, waiting only for the yams to mature. The price was even lower than before, but harvesting responsibility was handed over to the other party.

On the day before she left, the town made a banner in her honor and ceremoniously delivered it to her home.

Zhuang Jie felt a little lightheaded with pride, filled with a strong sense of accomplishment and purpose. Although she hadn’t secured the maximum benefit, the farmers of Yanggou Village were grateful to her.

On the day she left, Liao Tao drove her in a tricycle. On the way, she mentioned that Niaoniao had been listless all morning before school, and would probably cry after coming home. The sudden emptiness of the house would be hard for her.

“It’s not like I’m not around—she still has plenty of company,” Zhuang Jie said with a smile.

“You? You alone are practically a whole zoo,” Liao Tao replied. She never worried about Zhuang Jie; even if you threw her into a zoo, she could probably organize a party.

Zhuang Jie didn’t dare laugh too hard—she was afraid of swallowing dust from the road. Covering her mouth, she said, “During winter break, let Zhuang Yan bring Niaoniao to Shanghai. I’ll take them to Disneyland.”

“Talk about it later,” Liao Tao replied.

“Just don’t cook up that Ji Mountain goose. Zhuang Yan will—”

“Enough,” Liao Tao cut her off.

Zhuang Jie thought for a moment. “Mom, Zhuang Yan is just a bamboo shoot. He’s not going to grow into a towering tree.”

“Enough, enough,” Liao Tao said again, parking the tricycle. She handed down Zhuang Jie’s suitcase from the back, saying she had packed some roast chicken and local specialties for her to share with colleagues.

Zhuang Jie was speechless. She had secretly taken them out in the morning, and somehow Liao Tao had put them back in again.

Liao Tao insisted on seeing her into the station, but Zhuang Jie said there was no need.

“House is still busy,” Liao Tao said as she got back on the tricycle. “Fine, I’ll head back. Call home when you arrive.”

Zhuang Jie nodded.

“I never counted on Zhuang Yan. It’ll just be us mother and daughter. Let him do whatever he wants. As long as I can still work, I’ll leave him whatever I can. At least he won’t starve,” Liao Tao said, lighting a cigarette and riding off.

Zhuang Jie checked in and entered the carriage, walking down the aisle to her seat. When she tilted her head, she froze.

Wasn’t that Chen Maidong?

She raised her chin slightly. “Going to the city?”

“Or what—did you think I was here to see you off?” Chen Maidong said, looking at her through his earphones.

“That’s hard to say,” Zhuang Jie replied with a smile.

She didn’t move on. She lifted her small suitcase onto the rack.

“You’ve got some strength,” Chen Maidong said, half-rising, but she had already swung her arm and hoisted it up herself.

Zhuang Jie clapped her hands and sat down next to him.

“Your seat’s here?” he asked, taking off one earphone.

“If someone comes, I’ll just switch with them,” she said, twisting open her bottle to drink water.

“What if they don’t want to switch?”

Zhuang Jie looked at him like he was an idiot. “Then I’ll just go back to my seat. What’s the big deal?”

“We know each other, though. Sitting together isn’t boring.”

Chen Maidong turned his face toward the window and didn’t respond.

Chen Maidong kept looking out the window, still saying nothing.

“Hey, Maidong,” Zhuang Jie said suddenly. “Your profile looks really good. When you go on blind dates, just keep turning your face like that. Girls nowadays care about looks.”

He ignored her and instead asked, “What did you sing for my grandmother that day?”

“Which day?”

“At my house.”

Hearing that day brought back the memory—him calling her frivolous. She shot back first: “Serves you right for being single.”

Then she continued, “I sang an excerpt from the Peking opera Crossing Shaoguan.”

“You know Peking opera?”

“My grandfather was a Peking opera performer. I grew up listening to him sing—I can hum a few lines.” The “performer” part was self-proclaimed; her grandfather had only worked in a theater troupe in his early years.

“What’s Crossing Shaoguan about?”

“It’s about Wu Zixu. After his father and brother were killed by King Ping of Chu, he fled and was pursued all the way to Shaoguan while seeking refuge in another state to avenge them. That night, his hair turned white overnight.”

Zhuang Jie cleared her throat and softly sang:

“Wu Yuan I am like a homeless dog,
Full of resentment with nowhere to speak,
Like a sorrowful wild goose in the endless sky,
Like a dragon stranded in shallow sands,
Like a fish swallowed by a hook and line,
Like a boat lost in raging waves without a rudder,
Thinking of it all, my heart is torn apart—
How can I wait for tomorrow night to come…”

She exhaled softly. “Maybe that’s the night his hair turned white. Poor guy.”

“Back then I watched The Deer and the Cauldron and thought Wu Zixu was a villain.”

“That was Ao Bai,” Chen Maidong corrected.

“Ao Bai? The one with white beard and eyebrows—that wasn’t Wu Zixu?”

“That was Ao Bai played by Xu Jinjiang.”

“…Sorry. I mixed it up,” she said after a moment, still unable to recall which drama Wu Zixu even belonged to.

The train announced the next stop. Zhuang Jie reached for her suitcase, but Chen Maidong got there first and lifted it down.

She frowned. “When I got on, why didn’t you help me put it up? Just watching a disabled person struggle—”

“You transferring inside the station?” he asked.

“I’m taking the subway to meet Xi Xia first, then heading back to Shanghai in the evening.”

She took the suitcase from him.

“I’ll take you to the subway,” Chen Maidong said, pulling her luggage toward the exit.

Zhuang Jie watched his straight back and followed silently.

The two walked all the way to the subway platform in silence. When they arrived, Chen Maidong set the suitcase down and checked the display—two minutes until the next train.

Zhuang Jie shoved her hands into her pockets, staring at the ground. She didn’t even want to ask if he had come specifically to see her off.

Then she suddenly smiled, shaking her head.

“Hey, Chen Maidong,” she said openly, “I kind of like you.”

He turned sharply to look at her.

Then she added, like a little devil:

“But I like Shanghai more.”

“I won’t stay in Nanping Town. That place would be like a dragon trapped in shallow waters for me.”

Chen Maidong let out a cold laugh and didn’t respond at all—as if she had said nothing worth hearing.

Zhuang Jie suddenly pulled him in and kissed him.

As if it still wasn’t enough, she wrapped a hand around his neck and deepened the kiss.

He turned the moment around, gripping her waist tightly and kissing her back. She clung to his neck, kissing him even more boldly, more fiercely.

Until the train’s warning alarm rang.

She pushed him away, grabbed her luggage, and stepped onto the train without looking back.

As the train sped off, that flicker of emotion vanished with it.

She touched her lips.

Damn it—this bastard definitely did it on purpose.

Chen Maidong wiped the corner of his mouth as well. He stood there for a full ten minutes, then lowered his head and opened WeChat to message her. He typed, deleted, typed again, deleted again—finally, he deleted her contact entirely.

Then he booked a ticket back to Nanping Town.

Didn’t matter. He didn’t care anyway.

He went home, relieved himself, changed into a suit, and got on his motorcycle to head to the funeral home.

His grandmother called after him, “Aren’t you going to reply to your mother?”

“No.”

“If you miss her, just call her first…”

“I don’t miss her.”

His grandmother muttered that back then, if he didn’t want his mother to leave, he should have stopped her—cried, made a scene. The crying child gets the candy.

Chen Maidong only said, “People who leave still leave in the end.”

Then he revved the engine and rode off.

—

Meanwhile

Wang Xixia and Zhuang Jie were shopping together. As she picked clothes, she said, “Just stay another day tomorrow…”

“No way. Things are already on fire,” Zhuang Jie replied, avoiding the cut on her lip as she applied balm in the mirror. Every season change, her lips cracked and peeled.

“That doesn’t look like you bit yourself,” Wang Xixia teased.

“Chen Maidong bit me.”

“Who?”

“Chen Maidong.”

Wang Xixia frowned but said nothing.

“We didn’t really have anything. I just couldn’t help kissing him when he saw me off.”

“You like him?”

“Yeah,” Zhuang Jie said. “But it won’t work. He won’t go to Shanghai, and I won’t come back.”

“He seems like a decent guy,” Wang Xixia said, motioning toward the smoking area outside. “Let’s go talk there.”

They went outside. Wang Xixia rolled up her sleeve, lit a cigarette, and said, “Xu Qinghe asked me to watch a movie. I said yes.”

“Who’s Xu Qinghe?”

“My brother’s blind date introduction.”

“Not bad. That guy should be okay. I’m pretty good at judging people,” Zhuang Jie said, lighting her own cigarette.

“He’s alright. Not annoying.”

“Then take it slow. If you want a family, he’s a good option.”

Wang Xixia nodded, then suddenly fell silent. She wiped her face—and tears spilled out.

She crouched down, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Alright, alright,” Zhuang Jie said softly. She couldn’t crouch, so she simply sat on the ground and patted her back. “It’s okay now.”

Wang Xixia sat down too, smoking through her tears.

“If things go well, I want to get married this year,” she said.

“Okay, I support you,” Zhuang Jie replied.

“You should get married too.”

“Okay, I will,” Zhuang Jie laughed.

Wang Xixia suddenly smiled through tears. “I just want someone with me. Otherwise I don’t know if I can keep going…”

“I understand,” Zhuang Jie said, gently rubbing her back.

“I also want to have a child.”

“Boy or girl?”

“Twins. One boy, one girl.”

“Good idea. I’ll have twins too,” Zhuang Jie said.

“We’ll raise them together and even arrange a childhood engagement.”

“Won’t we mix them up?”

“Who cares. Mixing them up makes it more exciting!” Wang Xixia said recklessly.

Zhuang Jie burst out laughing. “You’re insane.”

People around them started looking over, curious what two women were doing sitting on the ground.

Wang Xixia snapped back, “What are you looking at? Never seen lesbians before?”

Zhuang Jie stood up first, pulling her up. “Let’s sit on a bench. The ground is uncomfortable.”

They moved to a nearby bench. Wang Xixia crossed her legs, smoking.

“I secretly went to a fortune teller,” she said suddenly. “The master said…”