Chen Qingqing’s face was scarlet.
Coming back to herself, she hurriedly pushed Xu Ye away and said, a little breathlessly, “I… I’m going back to the dorm. Message me when you get to Jiangzhou.”
Having gotten that out in one short, rapid breath, she jogged the whole way back toward the dormitory.
Xu Ye smiled, shouldered his bag, and headed for the school gate.
Chen Qingqing stood on the balcony, watching until he’d walked out of sight, then went back to her seat and sat down, her expression blank, her mind still turning over the feeling of that one instant.
…
Ticket collected, ticket checked, aboard.
At eight minutes past six, the high-speed train pulled out right on schedule.
It wasn’t a holiday, so the carriage was nearly empty. Xu Ye played on his phone for a while, then lowered the tray table and fell asleep. When he opened his eyes again, it was already past ten.
One unread WeChat message, from Jiang Meilin.
Jiang Meilin: “When do you arrive?”
Xu Ye: “On the train already. Should reach Jiangzhou Station around a quarter past eleven.”
Jiang Meilin: “Have you told your family?”
Xu Ye: “Not yet. I thought I’d surprise my mom.”
Jiang Meilin: “Then I’ll come pick you up.”
Xu Ye: “No need to trouble yourself, Auntie.”
Xu Ye: “I’ll just take a taxi home.”
Jiang Meilin: “Message me when you’re out of the station.”
Once Jiang Meilin had decided something, no one had ever managed to talk her out of it.
Xu Ye could only obediently reply with a single “Mm.”
An hour later, the carriage display finally announced their imminent arrival at Jiangzhou Station.
The moment the train stopped, Xu Ye was out the door, and made his way out of the station along a route he knew well. He spotted Jiang Meilin’s car right away and jogged over.
Seeing he had only a single bag, Jiang Meilin simply waved him into the passenger seat.
“Does Qingqing know you’ve come back to Jiangzhou?”
Xu Ye buckled his seatbelt and smiled. “She knows. I went to see her before heading to the station.”
Jiang Meilin nodded, one hand on the wheel. “From what I know of you, you’re not an impulsive person. So this five-million investment — you’d already thought it through carefully before making the decision. Am I right?”
Xu Ye nodded honestly. “Of course. If I hadn’t thought it through, I’d never have borrowed this much from someone to invest.”
Jiang Meilin smiled. “Five million is no small sum to me either. So before I give you the money, we’ll sign a contract.”
“That’s only proper.”
“Do you want to tell your parents about this?”
“No need.” Xu Ye smiled. “I have confidence in myself.”
Jiang Meilin paused a moment, then asked in a joking tone, “If this investment succeeds and you get richer and richer — you won’t grow tired of my Qingqing, will you?”
Money spoils a man.
Jiang Meilin had seen plenty of examples around her. In her circle, there were many bosses who’d built themselves up from nothing and then began to look down on the wives who’d struggled alongside them. Keeping mistresses on the side was commonplace.
She seemed to be joking, but it was in fact a test.
Anyone else might not have caught the meaning buried in that question. But how could Xu Ye fail to catch it?
“Of course not. Auntie can rest easy on that.”
Xu Ye turned to look at her, adopting the same joking tone. “If Auntie doesn’t believe me — once Qingqing and I graduate, why don’t you do a bit of persuading and get her to register the marriage with me first?”
Jiang Meilin laughed out loud. “You’ve got quite the imagination. Before your career amounts to something, I won’t be letting Qingqing marry you. And if your investment fails, you’ll be marrying into our family anyway.”
“It won’t fail.”
“There’s plenty of time. I’ll be watching, slowly.”
The car stopped at the entrance to Xu Ye’s residential compound. He got out, waved as Jiang Meilin drove away, and headed home with his bag over his shoulder.
…
Deep in the night.
Parched, Xu Xiangdong threw back the covers and got out of bed. Seeing his wife still fast asleep, he crept quietly out of the room and into the kitchen.
He poured half a cup of hot water from the thermos into his travel mug, topped it up with cool boiled water, and gulped down several mouthfuls. Then he added more hot water, took a packet of goji berries — the kind used for soup — from the cupboard, grabbed a handful, and dropped them into the mug.
Middle age comes for us all: goji berries in the travel mug. [TL: 保温杯里泡枸杞 — an internet meme of this era, shorthand for a man who’s aged into wellness habits; the travel mug with goji berries is the universal symbol of surrendering to middle age.]
Old Xu had arrived squarely at that age. His back and waist ached constantly now, and whether at home or at the office, he’d taken to brewing himself a cup of goji berries.
He screwed the lid back on and was about to return to the bedroom — then remembered something, stopped, walked over to the sofa, lifted the cushion, reached into the gap, and pulled out a fistful of small bills.
Fives. Tens. Twenties.
This was all change left over from times Zhang Hong had sent him out to buy things — money he’d skimmed off and hidden under the sofa cushion.
To Old Xu, this counted as pocket change.
Old Xu also had one trick that never failed: get half a bottle of waste engine oil from the auto repair shop, pour it under the car, photograph it, and send it to Zhang Hong claiming the car had developed a leak and needed a few hundred yuan in repairs.
Zhang Hong would usually grumble a bit first, then transfer two or three hundred for the repairs — and Old Xu would quietly pocket the money and keep it as spending cash.
But the last time he’d run this play, Zhang Hong had grown suspicious, declaring loudly: “If that junk heap of yours leaks oil one more time, you can go and sell it.”
So these days Old Xu didn’t dare use the trick lightly.
He sat down on the sofa, smoothed the bills flat, stacked them together, and began to count…
“Fifteen, twenty, thirty, thirty-five…”
Just as Old Xu reached one hundred twenty-five—
Knock knock knock~
A sudden, urgent knocking came from outside the door.
Before Old Xu could react, Zhang Hong’s voice came from the bedroom: “Who’s knocking at this hour?”
Bleary with sleep, Zhang Hong pulled on her slippers, walked into the living room, and turned on the light.
Old Xu, a fistful of cash clutched in his hand, met her eyes.
Zhang Hong thought she must be dreaming. She rubbed her eyes and asked, “Old Xu, what are you doing sitting on the sofa in the middle of the night?”
“Nothing — nothing. Got thirsty, came out for some water.”
While she hadn’t yet gotten a clear look, Old Xu hurriedly stuffed the money between his knees.
The knocking came again. Zhang Hong called out “coming, coming,” walked over, and opened the door.
Seeing Xu Ye standing there with a smile on his face, Zhang Hong was astonished. “Xiao Ye! What are you doing back? Did you get in trouble at school?!”
“Mom, could you hope for something good for once?”
Xu Ye rolled his eyes and squeezed past her into the living room, improvising an excuse. “Didn’t you call Friday asking when I’d be home? As it happens, my teacher took leave on Monday, so I’ve got a three-day weekend. I bought a ticket and came back.”
“Why didn’t you tell me in advance?”
“Wasn’t I trying to surprise you?”
“In the dead of night, it’s more of a fright than a surprise.” Zhang Hong said this, but she headed straight for the kitchen, beaming. “There are dumplings in the fridge, and the bone broth from tonight isn’t finished — I could make you a bowl of noodles. What do you want?”
“Dumplings.”
Old Xu got up to go help in the kitchen. He’d taken barely two steps when Xu Ye pointed at the floor. “Dad, you dropped twenty yuan.”
Zhang Hong poked her head out of the kitchen. “Your father’s allowance for this month was confiscated. Where would he get—”
She didn’t finish the sentence, because she’d seen the twenty-yuan note lying right there on the floor.
“OLD XU!!!“
“Wife — let me explain—”
Zhang Hong came at him with the spatula still in her hand. Old Xu was leaping and dodging, cursing as he went. “You little bastard, I must have owed you in a past life. Next life, I’ll be the son and you can be the father!”
(End of Chapter 159)