24. Help you

The living room was filled with a suffocating silence.

The lights shone a stark white, illuminating the mess on the table. Chili oil had congealed on the edges of the food containers, empty beer cans lay scattered about, and the air still held the lingering, intoxicating smell of spicy food and alcohol. He Miao and Ding Xiaojuan had already been picked up by their respective men. The abrupt, drunken, and cathartic outburst had receded like the tide, leaving only this pile of broken seashells.

A strange and unsettling sense of alienation spread between the couple.

He took a deep breath, trying to make his tone sound normal, even considerate: "Go wash up and go to bed first, I'll clean up here." He walked over and began to gather the greasy lunch boxes, his movements a little clumsy, and he almost spilled the soup.

"This is a mess," he muttered, as if complaining, or perhaps talking to himself, "How did they even manage to eat this..."

Yi Yi didn't move or respond. Her silence was like an invisible wall.

Zhuang Jia frowned, continued tidying up, and threw several empty cans into the trash can with a clanging sound. "Look at this table, soup and water are dripping everywhere." He grabbed a tissue and wiped the stains on the tablecloth, which stubbornly spread. "This tablecloth needs to be washed properly tomorrow... Okay, don't worry about it, I'll clean it up for you, go lie down."

"Will you tidy up?"

Yi Yi's voice suddenly rang out, very soft, yet exceptionally clear, like ice shards scraping against glass.

Zhuang Jia paused, then looked up at her.

Yi Yi slowly turned around. Her face was still flushed from the alcohol, but her eyes were frighteningly bright, devoid of any drunkenness, only a cold clarity. She looked at him and repeated, word by word, "You, help me, clean up?"

Zhuang Jia was stung by the coldness in her eyes, and a strange anger rose within him. He had been busy all day, dealing with clients and his boss, and then came home to this mess, having to patiently clean up the mess. What kind of attitude was this?

"Otherwise what?" His tone hardened. "Should we let Kai Kai collect them? Or should we leave them out until tomorrow morning? You should go and get some rest; you have to get up early tomorrow."

"Get up early?" Yi Yi twitched the corners of her mouth, her smile devoid of any warmth. "Get up early what? I don't have to go to work!"

These words were like a needle, piercing the calm that Zhuang Jia had been trying so hard to maintain. Exhaustion, confusion, and the vague restlessness that had accumulated over the past few days surged up all at once.

"Can't you get up early if you don't have to work?" he blurted out, his voice unconsciously rising. "There's so much to do at home, don't you have to take Kai Kai to school? Don't you have to make breakfast? You..."

"Is it more important to do what I'm supposed to do, or to get up early?" Yi Yi interrupted him, her voice still low but carrying a sharp sarcasm. "What is 'what I'm supposed to do'? Zhuang Jia, tell me, what exactly is it that I'm supposed to do right now? Is it to immediately climb into bed and satisfy your 'needs' as your husband, so that I can complete today's 'KPI' and be worthy of you 'helping me' clean up this mess?"

Her words were like a knife chilled to the bone, stabbing at him swiftly and viciously. Zhuang Jia's face flushed instantly; he had never expected her to say such things, so bluntly, so...unbearably.

"What nonsense are you spouting!" he exclaimed, both shocked and furious. "When did I say that? Is it wrong for me to tell you to go and rest? Look at the state you're in! You're dead drunk, you've made a mess of the house, and I'm trying to clean it up, and this is the attitude you get? Yi Yi, can't you be reasonable?"

"Reasoning?" Yi Yi stood up, her body swaying slightly from the alcohol and her emotions, but her eyes remained fixed on his face, unmoved. "Fine, let's reason. Zhuang Jia, this house, this table, this floor, every bowl and every pot in this kitchen, every clean piece of clothing, the lunchbox you bring to the company every day... which one of these is what you call 'helping me'?"

She took a step forward, closing in on him: "This home belongs to both of us, our son belongs to both of us, and our life is shared! These things have never been 'my business,' they are things you should share! But you just say 'I'll help you,' so casually, and you've turned all this labor and effort into my 'responsibility,' your 'charity'! You call tidying up your own home 'helping me'? Then when you come home for dinner every day, does that mean you're 'helping me' eat? When you sleep in this bed, does that mean you're 'helping me' sleep?"

Her voice began to tremble, not from fear, but from the pent-up anger and resentment that finally burst forth: "I'm tired! Zhuang Jia, I'm not made of iron! I get annoyed, confused, and listless too! But I didn't dare say it, afraid you'd call me dramatic, afraid you'd call me 'idle'! I could only hold on by myself, trying to keep this 'home' as you like, so orderly! But now, I can't hold on anymore, I'm having health problems, I feel like I'm dying inside, I just want to let loose, I just want to have a drink with my friends, say some crazy things... And then what about you? You come back, look at this mess, and the first thing you say is 'I'll clean it up for you'? The way you look at me is like I'm a useless maid who's made a mess of the house!"

Tears finally welled up in her eyes, but she didn't wipe them away, letting them roll down her cheeks. Her voice, however, was even clearer and colder: "Zhuang Jia, I am not your employee, not your appendage, and certainly not a machine you hired to keep the family running! I am Yi Yi! I am a living, breathing person! I will grow old, I will get sick, I will feel down, and there will be times when I can't hold on anymore! Do you understand?"

Zhuang Jia was rooted to the spot by her barrage of questions, his anger gradually replaced by astonishment and a more complex sense of embarrassment. He opened his mouth, wanting to retort, to say "I didn't mean that," to say "I was just saying it casually," but looking at her face full of tears and the almost desperate anger in her eyes, all the words stuck in his throat.

He suddenly realized that he might never have truly understood what that seemingly considerate "I'll help you" meant to Yi Yi.

That was more than just a sentence; it was a positioning, a silent denial of value, a sharp blade that casually dismissed all her daily, trivial yet enormous efforts as secondary matters that could be "helped with."

The sound of water in the bathroom stopped. Kai Kai, wearing pajamas and drying her hair, cautiously peeked out, looking at her parents facing off in the living room, her little face full of unease.

"Dad, Mom, did you two have a fight?" he asked softly.

In an instant, all the tension deflated like a punctured balloon, leaving only heavy exhaustion and a scene of utter chaos.

Yi Yi closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and when she opened them again, all that remained in her eyes was a bottomless weariness. She didn't look at Zhuang Jia again, but turned to Kai Kai, her voice hoarse but unusually gentle: "We didn't quarrel. Mom is just a little tired. Come on, let Mom help you dry your hair."

She took her son's hand, walked into the children's room, and gently closed the door.

In the living room, only Zhuang Jia remained, standing amidst the ruins of food scraps, empty wine cans, and cold words. The pale light shone on him, washing away any faint sense of self-satisfaction he had felt from "voluntarily cleaning up."

He looked down at the greasy tissue he was still clutching in his hand, then at the tightly closed door to the children's room.

The phrase "I'll help you clean up" still echoed in the air, and now it sounded so foolish, so condescending, so...heartbreaking.

He slowly squatted down and began to truly and silently clean up the mess. This time, there were no complaints, no thought of "helping you." He simply moved mechanically, his mind echoing with Yi Yi's heart-wrenching questions.

There were no winners that night. Only a deep, unfathomable chasm, suddenly opened, lay between them.

But dawn will eventually arrive mercilessly.