Chapter Fifty-Four — Winds Whip, Currents Surge

Lu Xugao drove the car into the district of Yunbei, where rows upon rows of soaring buildings rose in impressive grandeur. Among them, a few low, squat warehouses lent the area a unique character. Their brick walls were exposed to the elements, their roofs clad in thick iron sheets. The surfaces of the walls were haphazardly smeared with white cement, uneven and rough—like a thick layer of seaweed mud mask. The white-brick warehouses, compared to their red-brick counterparts, appeared even purer and cleaner—though perhaps somewhat cold and desolate.

Yishu rolled the window down just a crack, hoping to see the outside scenery more clearly. She had been here a few months earlier. The roads were growing more and more familiar, as were the sights.

Xinghe Restaurant stood, as always, at the corner. Warm orange light spilled from its glass windows, casting a soft glow over the tufts of grass by the sidewalk, giving them the appearance of fluffy dandelions.

After passing the food street, the warehouse belonging to Shixi must be close by now, Yishu thought, rolling the window all the way down and letting the raindrops wander across her face, heedless of their erratic paths.

"Are you hot?" Yan Lu, feeling a chill on her back and noticing the wide-open window, asked worriedly, "Are you carsick? If you’re not feeling well, let’s get out and get some air."

Yishu had always struggled with inner ear imbalance; long car rides left her dizzy and faint. Still, in recent months, she’d gotten more used to it from constantly riding in Shixi’s car and taking the bus. Today, for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, the carsickness had returned with a vengeance. At the same time, she wanted to see the traces he’d left behind, just once more.

Her face twisted in discomfort.

"Stop the car!" Yan Lu tugged at Lu Xugao, urging, "Pull over."

Yishu clambered out and squatted by the roadside, retching uncontrollably.

Yan Lu retrieved a folding umbrella from the glove compartment and opened it above Yishu’s head. Then she crouched down, patting her back. "If I’d known, I wouldn’t have let you ride in this old wreck."

Clutching her chest, Yishu swallowed hard. "I’m fine. I just need to stand here and get some fresh air."

"Why are you always so stubborn?" Yan Lu stood up in exasperation. "When are you going to stop acting like you’re invincible?"

Yishu forced a bitter smile, thinking it best to remain silent.

Yan Lu exhaled deeply, too weary to continue.

Lu Xugao got out from the driver’s seat, adjusting the collar of his work shirt. "Feeling any better?"

Yishu studied him intently. His hair was only two centimeters longer than a crew cut, exposing a broad, full forehead. His thick black eyebrows resembled caterpillars. His lips were dry and chapped, his skin noticeably darker—a sunburned bronze, really—which made him look more rugged. Standing next to Yan Lu, he was clearly the more mature of the two.

It seemed as if a man’s maturity was taken for granted. Or was it?

"What’s wrong?" Yan Lu nudged Yishu playfully. "Are you admiring my man?"

Despite her discomfort, Yishu couldn’t help but laugh, the haze in her head clearing considerably.

For someone like Yan Lu, so persistent and passionate in love, should Yishu envy her from afar, or take the plunge herself?

The rain seemed to have lessened. Yishu reached out her hand; the droplets were so fine she could barely feel them. Perhaps the rain itself was as thin as strands of hair or thread.

Lu Xugao, with a hint of pride, pulled Yan Lu into his arms. She leaned against his shoulder like a bird returning to its nest.

To Yishu, the sight was tinged with sadness. She looked away, her gaze settling on the imposing iron gate across the street—it was the entrance to Shixi’s warehouse. Through the gaps in the metal bars, she could make out the interior, though most of the employees had already gone home, and the night’s darkness obscured the details. Still, she was certain of the place.

An elderly security guard sat at the window in a wooden chair, hunched over his desk, fiddling with some glowing trinket.

"Why do you keep staring over there?" Yan Lu draped her hands over Yishu’s right shoulder, following her gaze into the darkness.

After some thought, Yishu decided not to go in. "I’m much better now. Let’s get back in the car."

Two intersections later, a right turn and two hundred meters brought them to Yan Lu’s current residence.

Here, most of the buildings lined up in a row were warehouses and factories.

Yan Lu pointed to a sign up ahead. "This is where I live now. I eat, sleep, and do everything here."

Yishu frowned, squinting to make out the white-outlined black letters on the blue background—barely visible in the night: “Wind Rider Logistics.”

"Come in, I’ll tell you everything," Yan Lu said, opening the door and beckoning Yishu inside.

Lu Xugao parked the car in the nearby shed. Though it was a battered, second-hand vehicle, it was their livelihood, their ticket to the future—he handled it with great care.

The warehouse was spacious. By Yishu’s rough estimate, it covered around eighty square meters, with a ceiling about four meters high. In the southwest corner, a partition made of iron sheets enclosed a small area with a bedroom, bathroom, and a makeshift kitchen. But since the warehouse stored flammable goods, there was no gas stove; they hadn’t bought any oil, vinegar, or kitchen utensils—only a rice cooker, occasionally used to prepare a meal.

"So, what do you think? Not bad, right?" Yan Lu couldn’t hide her pride. To her, though it might seem insignificant, she’d finally achieved the life she wanted—something so many could only dream of.

Lu Xugao entered after parking, the iron door creaking open. He flipped a switch, flooding the warehouse with bright light. At last, Yishu could see it all clearly. The place was stacked with textiles: bolts of fabric, wall coverings, curtains, and various accessories. In the center stood a slide-like chute for small packages to glide straight down from upstairs, while a conveyor belt could send items from the ground floor up to the second level.

"You two are working here now?" Yishu could hardly believe it.

"That’s right, we work here," Yan Lu replied with a bright smile. "But that’s only half the story—we’re running our own business." She caught Yishu’s astonished look and added, "You heard me right. We took over this logistics branch ourselves."

Yishu was genuinely astonished. In just a few months, they’d accomplished so much. Wind Rider Logistics was among the top ten logistics companies in the country; joining their ranks was no easy feat.

She recalled Lu Xuyang mentioning, back at Kaisheng Company, his wish to leave and start his own logistics or courier business. He didn’t want to spend his life as a lowly shipping clerk. But nothing ever came of it—perhaps age had dampened his ambition, or maybe he just didn’t have the strength anymore.

"You two really pulled this off without a word," Yishu marveled.

"It’s not as grand as it sounds," Yan Lu replied, her smile fading. "We’ve only just started to see a glimmer of hope. The last while has been exhausting—like working ourselves to the bone."

Yishu believed every word; the fatigue etched on Yan Lu’s face was proof enough. She’d always been a carefree modern woman at Kaisheng’s customer service department, but now her diligence far outstripped Yishu’s. Life in the Textile City had worn her down.

"Don’t just stand there," Lu Xugao interjected. "Xiao Lu, take Yishu to get something to eat—she hasn’t had dinner yet."

"Oh, that’s right, I forgot! We were busy chatting." Yan Lu took Yishu’s hand. "Come on, let’s eat."

"Where are we going?" Yishu asked. She remembered that beyond the food street, there was only a small convenience store—no sign of any restaurants.

Yan Lu pointed to the warehouse. "Right here."

A warehouse? How could they eat here? The air was thick with the pungent scent of textiles, and in this shadowy, sunless space, could anyone really dine in peace?

Yishu glanced around uncertainly—where was the dinner?

With a mischievous grin, Yan Lu led her through a small side door to the south.

Outside was a workers’ dormitory for a nearby factory, its iron-clad rooms ablaze with light. Some wore tattered clothes, some bare-chested, some clad in cashmere—men and women, young and middle-aged, all living together.

Yan Lu led Yishu onward, turning at the far end of the last dormitory block, where there was a staff canteen. The company placed no restrictions on outsiders dining there, so business boomed. The staff alone numbered in the hundreds.