Chapter Sixty-Six — Championing Justice

The green spots flickering in the night matched the rhythm of a human heartbeat. Yishu unlocked her phone and glanced at it, then pressed the power button and drifted peacefully off to sleep.

Xu Shixi was the classic good-natured person, someone who had torn out every page in his dictionary related to “refusal.” The only words he ever entertained were those close to “hesitation” or “uncertainty.” After Tang Dai’s drunken night and his all-night care for her, all small tempers, moods, and jealousies had been swept away by a gentle breeze and melted under the warm sunlight. Moreover, with Tang Chao and Qiao Siming present, even when it was just the two of them, Yishu felt at ease.

When she closed her eyes, Yan Lu’s earlier admonitions surfaced in her mind.

After Yan Lu and Lu Xugao had finished transporting several orders at the end of September, they planned to invite Yishu out for a gathering. The last time, things had been rushed, and they ended up eating in a shabby staff canteen. In retrospect, it was a little embarrassing, especially since Xu Shixi hadn’t joined them. Although Yan Lu wasn’t particularly familiar with him—meeting no more than five times—he was Yishu’s boyfriend, and for her sake, he couldn’t be left out.

Fengche Logistics was finally getting on track. Despite being part of a large corporation, without Yan Lu and Lu Xugao’s tireless dedication, it would have faced closure long ago. The logistics and courier industry was nearly saturated; most enterprises and factories had fixed partners. After several setbacks, Lu Xugao had barely managed to secure a foothold, signing annual contracts with a few small companies—a probation period, so to speak. If their service and timeliness met expectations, they’d renew next year. Otherwise, not only would there be no renewal, but the risk of early termination loomed.

When Yan Lu called Yishu, she was stepping off the bus’s rear door, taking a deep breath of the cool night air tinged with the salty, leafy aroma.

If Yishu were an actress, her performance would surely be criticized by any discerning audience.

—Where are you now?

Yan Lu’s usual conversation opener.

—I’m on my way back to Fu Garden.

Yishu was so tired her words spilled out without thought.

—Alone?

Yan Lu was plotting the strategy for this exchange.

—Alone.

Who else? Yishu thought. Who could share my quiet window?

—What about him?

Yan Lu eased into the topic.

—He…

Yishu was momentarily speechless.

Yan Lu’s dialogue was like a carefully crafted script; she knew not only her own lines but the rhythm of her counterpart.

—I knew it.

Yan Lu had pinpointed the heart of the issue and was searching for the cure.

Yishu felt a wave of confusion. She knows? What a terrifying phrase—it was like an X-ray, seeing through appearances to the truth.

—He’s gone to see her, hasn’t he? I knew it. These things, once they happen, will happen again, and again—endless, without cease.

In Yan Lu’s eyes, Xu Shixi was indeed a proper, reliable partner—but not suited to Yishu. In love, two people with vastly different backgrounds rarely end up together. One looks up, the other looks down, and the distance only grows. Those at the mountain’s peak and those at its base—neither sees the other as great; in each other’s eyes, both are insignificant.

—Yan Lu, stop guessing. I’m deeply moved that you care about me. But since I’ve chosen this road, I can’t turn back. This is a desert; there’s no way back. The path behind is buried under endless sand, only the road ahead faintly visible. So moving forward is my drive to live.

The scattered yellow leaves spoke of sorrow. Yishu looked up at the camphor above; the gaps between the leaves had grown larger. Under the streetlight, the dappled spots of light were broader.

—Your business is my business. Don’t ask me to stay out of it—I can’t.

Yan Lu shouted into her phone, her face alternating between flushes of red and pale.

—I trust him, truly, I trust him now. I believe he won’t disappoint me; I believe he won’t hurt me.

Yishu, rather than agitated, calmed herself to comfort Yan Lu. It was as if she were the one involved.

—Saying that is admitting it.

Yan Lu was overjoyed at her successful probing.

—Yes, I admit it. You guessed right.

To avoid Yan Lu weaving more absurd, wild plots, Yishu came clean.

—Tang Dai was in a car accident; Shixi had to go. After all, they knew each other.

—Tang Dai, so that’s her name. Sounds like trouble, someone who stirs up storms. Are all the men in the world gone, that she must cling to someone else’s boyfriend!

Yan Lu continued to vent, unwilling to let go until her frustrations were spent.

Yishu realized there was no way to calm her, so she simply let her speak. After all, having someone to talk to and ease her mind wasn’t so bad.

—Calm down. Even I, the one involved, am not angry, so why should you be? Anger is harmful—why bother? Work is hard enough; just try to relax.

Yan Lu, now the titular lady boss of Fengche Logistics’ Yunbei franchise, had grown more temperamental. Back at Kaiseng, faced with difficult, foolish clients, she’d complain and vent on her keyboard—the customer service department’s broken keyboards probably stacked two or three meters high. Now, in the vast warehouse, only she and Lu Xugao remained, and she could unleash her verbal prowess.

—Fine, I’ll calm down. But are you really comfortable with him and his ex together? Aren’t you afraid old feelings might rekindle, old dreams returned? Let me tell you, in matters of the heart, women are devoted while men dwell in the past. This is a life-or-death moment; if you don’t tighten the reins, you’ll be the one shattered!

Yan Lu spoke like a seasoned veteran, as if she’d suffered the same, reaching out to Yishu in her hour of need.

Yishu felt herself swept into stormy seas, her mind buzzing. Was it really that dramatic? Surely Yan Lu’s warnings were more the fruit of years spent watching soap operas. In TV dramas, ratings are boosted by exaggeration and sensationalism. In reality, where are so many lovesick men and wronged women? Otherwise, divorce rates would not climb year after year.

—I am at ease. My ease comes from trust; my trust comes from the sense of security he gives me. If he were truly heartless and cruel, then he wouldn’t be the Xu Shixi I know, nor the Xu Shixi I love.

—Let’s hope he’s as good as you say, Yishu. I truly hope you find happiness—more than I want it for myself. But remember, if he ever hurts you, don’t face it alone. At least know, in this world, you still have me.

Yan Lu listened to Yishu’s impassioned words, feeling moved and changed. Whatever storms the future might bring, cherish the present first.

To quietly await the passage of time, remaining as at the first meeting—perhaps that is love at its most beautiful.

Luckily, Yan Lu was too busy with work to come; otherwise, with her temper, today’s hospital room would have seen a fierce debate, perhaps even a confrontation. Yishu turned over, pressed her palms together beneath her head, and gazed at the bright patch of moonlight, heading toward dreams.

Tomorrow, she would have to rise early and visit Shixi at the hospital.

Yishu set her alarm from seven-thirty to six. After the autumn equinox, the days grew shorter, the nights longer. At six, the moon still hung high in the sky, refusing to leave—uncertain whether it was morning or evening.

Yishu stepped off the bus, covering a yawn. The sun peeked above the horizon, and the streetlights blinked off in unison.

Outside the hospital were several restaurants with unique flavors, well-regarded in the area. Yishu entered one called Morning Secret, its promotional images above the counter beautiful as paintings but lacking in realism. On closer inspection, the dishes resembled those at Wisdom Tea House.

She wasn’t sure about their preferences. Apart from Shixi, who favored light and savory food, she knew nothing of the others. Tang Chao and Qiao Siming, both men, were unlikely to enjoy sweets—their tastes probably matched Shixi’s. As for Tang Dai, newly recovered, she would surely need something mild.

Yishu packed several bowls of porridge, some sliced steamed buns, and fried dough sticks. The cashier clicked through the computer—a total of 58.9 yuan! The most expensive breakfast she’d ever bought.

She had wanted to cook herself. Last night she paused at the entrance to the resettlement community, but in the end turned back. Everything needs a good mood; when enthusiasm is lacking, even the food tastes bitter.