7. At least I'm home.

Zhuang Jia and his best friend from high school, Wu Si, sat at the bar of an izakaya. Under the warm orange light, the profiles of the two men looked somewhat weary. In middle age, it seems that only old friends like these, who know each other inside and out and have seen each other at their worst, can be confided in.

“Sometimes I think about it, it’s fucking exhausting.” Zhuang Jia rubbed his temples, his knuckles turning white. “Mortgage, car loan, kids’ education…aren’t all of these things built on money? And she’s so carefree, just staying at home. She’s a master’s degree holder, can’t she…share the burden a little?”

Wu Si had his own troubles. His wife had been unable to conceive for many years due to uterine problems, and the doctor said the chances were slim. "At least you have a son," he said, taking a swig of beer, his Adam's apple bobbing, "but me... I'm almost forty, and my home doesn't even feel like a home anymore."

Zhuang Jia didn't comfort him, nor could she. They sat there not seeking comfort, but simply needing a place to let out the pent-up frustration they couldn't share with their families.

"Is this world fair to us men? The burden of supporting our families is all on us. We are made of flesh and blood too. Our shoulders ache sometimes, but we can't complain, we can't shirk our responsibilities, and we can't even grumble, because we can't be 'incompetent'!" Zhuang Jia's voice was deep, but it carried a fierce edge.

Wu Si was a little drunk. He glanced sideways at the exquisitely made-up young woman in the next booth, leaned closer to Zhuang Jia, and said in a low voice, "When you're 'incompetent,' you still have to pretend to be 'capable'... Otherwise, how do you think those little blue pills got their market?"

"You still have this kind of thought?" Zhuang Jia scoffed, but felt inexplicably irritated. "I'm practically a monk now. I really don't know what's the point of living like this."

"What's wrong? Feeling powerless?"

"You're the fucking no good," Zhuang Jia said, a little drunk. "If you're no good, where did you get such a big son?"

"You've hit a nerve!" Wu Si pointed at him. "You've hit a nerve, kid!"

"Slip of the tongue, slip of the tongue!" Zhuang Jia waved his hand, downed a glass of alcohol, and spoke more bluntly as the alcohol burned his throat. "Once I had a son, I was 'idled'. Too early, the child isn't asleep; too late, I have to get up early tomorrow. 'Hurry up, are you done yet?' has become the standard procedure. You're right, people in my line of work are almost driven to the brink."

"Brother, bottoms up." Wu Si filled his glass, but didn't raise his own. "You should head back now, you have to work tomorrow."

Zhuang Jia downed his drink in one gulp. When he stood up, he swayed slightly, but then noticed that Wu Si was still sitting there, his gaze drifting towards the next room.

"you……"

"You go first," Wu Si said without further ado.

Zhuang Jia understood, patted his shoulder, and said, "Take it easy." He turned and pushed open the door, stepping into the night. As he waited for a car by the roadside, he glanced back at the window. Under the orange light, Wu Si was already sitting next to the strange woman, his profile bearing a smile he had never seen on his brother's face before—a smile that was both ingratiating and desperate.

Zhuang Jia returned home late at night, reeking of alcohol. The motion-sensor light in the entryway turned on, casting a warm yellow glow. Yi Yi, dressed in pajamas, stood there, frowning. "Who did you drink so much with?" Zhuang Jia rarely socialized, and even when he couldn't refuse, he almost never got drunk.

"Hey, you're complaining after just a few drinks!" The alcohol made Zhuang Jia drop his usual restraint. He kicked off his shoes, staggered, and said, "You should be grateful! At least I made it home! How many husbands like me are there in this world?"

Although it was drunken ramblings, wasn't that what he really wanted to say? What does he mean? You're a good husband just because you're home? So you didn't want to come home in the first place? Yi Yi listened to his drunken words, her mind racing. But looking at his bleary eyes and unsteady gait, what could she possibly ask him?

"Can you wash yourself or not? If you can't, go to sleep!" She reached out to help him.

"Why can't you wash? You're not drunk!" Zhuang Jia pushed her hand away and staggered towards the bathroom. "Look, I can... find my way home without any mistakes. I'm home!" There was a strange, stubborn emphasis in his tone.

There was a loud crashing sound coming from the bathroom.

Then, still soaking wet, he lay down on the bed, covering half of the blanket, and muttered, "Wife, pour the best husband in the world... a glass of water."

By the time Yi Yi brought the water over, he was already asleep, breathing heavily and reeking of alcohol. The bed sheet he was pressing down on was soaked.

Yi Yi laboriously dried his hair and neck with a dry towel, then pushed him to the dry side and covered him with a blanket. She then picked up her pillow and went to Kai Kai's room.

That night, she barely slept a wink. In the darkness, she could hear her son's even breathing, and Zhuang Jia's words, "At least I came home," kept echoing in her mind, along with the strange, almost defiant tone in his voice.

The next morning, after Zhuang Jia got up, he didn't mention a word about what happened the night before, as if that memory had been precisely erased by alcohol. He went about his routine of washing up and changing clothes, though his face was a little pale.

"Who did you drink so much with last night?" Yi asked casually during breakfast.

"A few old classmates, we hadn't seen each other in a long time, and we got so into a good chat that we drank too much." Zhuang Jia tore at his bread, not looking at her.

"Who's 'not going home'?" Yi Yi pressed, trying to keep her tone as calm as possible.

"Not going home?" Zhuang Jia looked up, seemingly stunned for a moment, then realized, "Oh, I left early. Some of them are on vacation, some are their own bosses with flexible hours, and they're still drinking. I had a meeting this morning, didn't I?"

Yi Yi's tense nerves suddenly relaxed a little. "They never seem to get enough of playing, just like kids. How long will they keep drinking? You got back so late."

"Hey, anyway, they don't have to rush hour." Zhuang Jia finished his food in a few bites, grabbed his briefcase, and said, "I can't be late for the meeting this morning, I'm off."

Watching Zhuang Jia's hurried figure, Yi Yi paused for a few seconds, then turned to Kai Kai and said gently, "Hurry up, we're going to be late."

"Yes, ma'am." Kai Kai was always happy; whenever Yi Yi looked at him, all the gloom in her heart would vanish. "No, ma'am, ma'am, I'm not old."

"Yes, stepmother."

"Then you should just call me Mom!" Yi Yi said helplessly, looking at the happy Kai Kai.

After dropping the bouncy Kai Kai off at kindergarten, He Miao was startled when she saw her at the coffee shop. "Did you go thieving last night? Your dark circles are so bad."

“It’s that damned Zhuang again,” Yi Yi sat down opposite He Miao and rubbed her temples. “I drank too much with my friends last night and came back smelling like alcohol. So I slept with Kai Kai. That kid was like a madman in his sleep. He kept hitting me in the face with his arm and kicking me in the stomach. I didn’t dare close my eyes all night.”

Yi Yi wouldn't tell He Miao that Zhuang Jia's words last night, "At least I'm home," had kept her tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep. On one hand, Zhuang Jia's explanation this morning seemed reasonable; on the other hand, she absolutely couldn't become that suspicious, easily hurt woman who complained to everyone.

It's not that Yi Yi wouldn't talk to He Miao; it's that she wouldn't easily confide in anyone. She's not the type to open up to just anyone. In this world, besides herself, no one can truly help her resolve her inner turmoil. So, what's the point of speaking out, other than revealing her vulnerability and fragility?

Therefore, no one knows why she so resolutely resigned from her teaching position, no one knows why she was able to leave her hometown without hesitation, no one knows what kind of emptiness and struggle she experienced during that period of inactivity, and no one knows how she climbed out of that quagmire on her own...

Life must go on. Why keep dredging up the past and muddying up your present life?

She picked up the Americano He Miao pushed towards her and took a big gulp. The bitter liquid slid down her throat, bringing a brief moment of clarity.

The sun shone brightly outside the window, and pedestrians hurried by. He Miao was complaining about how inhumane He Tian's company's new project was when Ding Xiaojuan shared a funny video in the group chat.

Life seemed peaceful and normal, even full of little moments of laughter.

Yi Yi knew, however, that the pebble thrown into her heart's lake last night had sunk to the bottom. It wouldn't disappear; it would only be stirred up again by new waves at some point in the future, perhaps becoming a larger ripple, or perhaps, a reef that could no longer be ignored.

Now, she finished her coffee and smiled at He Miao: "What gossip is there today? Tell me about it."

For now, let's lock everything from last night into a box called "daily life".