Chapter 7

"Hiss—whoosh—"

Han Shu gasped for breath in pain as he tried to breathe.

The wound became inflamed after being soaked in rainwater, and because it wasn't treated in time, it had already developed pus. She cleaned it bit by bit with cotton swabs soaked in iodine, and by the time she finished, she was covered in a light sweat.

This person is doing a good deed, so why is he so fierce? He's so arrogant.

Han Shu carefully placed the iodine and cotton swabs, dangling her injured foot over the edge of the bed to avoid soiling the sheets, before lying down. After tossing and turning for a while, she finally managed to dial Ms. Xu's number.

My heart rate quickened with the beeping sound.

"Hello."

"……mom."

Han Shu had a lot to say. For example, the coconut groves on Hainan Island were beautiful, and the seafood noodles with fermented rice vinegar were delicious. She also talked about her first experience with a typhoon, her first time searching for shelter during a typhoon, and how her landlord was quite peculiar—a writer. And then there was… she was still confused, unsure of what she could do or what she wanted to do.

Xu Ying's slightly hoarse voice came through, "When are you coming back? Since you've already resigned, and since you're not satisfied with your previous job, then take some concrete actions. Either prepare for the exam or prepare for the summer recruitment season. All you do is make yourself a laughingstock."

Han Shu closed his eyes briefly. "Mom, I feel extremely tired and want to rest for a while."

"Tired? You think you're tired?" Xu Ying laughed. "Typical of someone who's never experienced hardship and doesn't know how lucky they are! You're a girl, having such a stable job is great. So many people want to take the exam but can't, and you say you're tired?"

"Hmm," Han Shu said softly, "Every day I not only repeat the same meaningless things, but I also have to put up with all sorts of bad tempers. I feel so tired."

"Everyone's like this, everyone can endure it, why can't you? We're all just ordinary people living ordinary lives. You say work is meaningless, then what is meaningful?!"

For some reason, Han Shu thought of Wen Zhiyu and his stack of novels. What he was doing seemed interesting and meaningful.

She immediately shook her head. "I'm not against this job, it's just not right for me. Mom, I really want to rest—"

Xu Ying retorted angrily, "Still thinking about taking a break? How do you explain the gaps on your resume? How are you going to find a partner if you don't have a decent job?"

Han Shu felt somewhat helpless. "I don't even understand my own life, why should I meddle in other people's?"

"Men fear choosing the wrong career, and women fear marrying the wrong man. Marriage is the most important event in a woman's life. You're 25 this year, it's time to start thinking about it."

Every communication brings us back to square one.

Xu Ying continued to instill her ideas with clear logic and numerous quotations. Truly worthy of being a Chinese language teacher, and indeed, a middle school Chinese language teacher.

Han Shu buried her face in the soft pillow, her breathing became labored, but it blocked out the words she didn't want to hear, so she lay there motionless.

Wearing such baggy pants makes you look like a tomboy. Change them; you need to look like a girl.

You should be obedient at school; teachers like well-behaved children.

Why learn skateboarding? Go practice your piano instead, so you can wow everyone when you have a chance to perform.

What are you drawing? Your grades have slipped again in this monthly exam, aren't you going to hurry up? Don't you know that only by getting into a good university can you find a good job?

Good? What's good about it? How do you define "good"? Who benefits from it?

Han Shu once thought that her parents' arrangements were always the best. So she learned piano according to her mother's preferences, chose accounting as her major according to her father's guidance, and entered her previous workplace with the mutual approval of both of them. Even though she liked skateboarding, wanted to study archaeology, and didn't want to work in the system.

After resigning, her parents' lack of support was expected, but she did not expect that Ms. Xu, who is always rational, would say something like, "Without this job, no one will even want you on blind dates," and that Mr. Han, who has always been proud of her, would ask disappointedly, "Are you still my good daughter?"

It seems her life's purpose was to be a good daughter and a good wife, to have a good job that would please her parents, thus making her a dutiful daughter. And to have a good job that would make her popular in the marriage market, ultimately leading to her becoming a good wife.

She spent 25 years trying to please her parents, teachers, bosses, and everyone around her. But now she doesn't want to do that anymore.

"—Did you hear me? No matter where you are, buy a plane ticket and come back right now!"

Han Shu suddenly turned over and stared at the ceiling. "Mom, I'm not going back for now."

"What did you say?"

"I'm not going back for now, so don't worry about me and Dad. Take care of yourselves."

After hanging up the phone, Han Shu lay there blankly for a while, and eventually fell asleep.

In her dream, she returned to that familiar office building, clutching a stack of familiar documents, waiting for the elevator. But it never came, and anxious to get her boss's signature, she took the stairs.

As soon as she entered the stairwell, she heard her colleagues talking.

"Han Shu is too fussy. With her around, it makes us feel like we're always slacking off. It's so annoying!"

"Why is she so strange? She takes any job that others give her, and she takes even the most disgusting jobs very seriously."

"Yeah, if you have so much enthusiasm, why are you even working at this company?"

"I really can't stand the way she greets everyone with a smile..."

Just like in real life, she went back to the elevator and continued to wait, pretending she hadn't heard anything.

Just like in reality, she also loathed this version of herself.

I was woken up by my phone vibrating; my pillow was soaked.

Han Shu picked up his phone and saw that it was a message from Ling Lin.

[Ling Lin: Still working overtime, how's it going on your end? Has the landlord shown any other strange behavior?]

Han Shu rubbed his face against the keyboard and typed with one hand.

[Han Shu: Oh dear, he's just a writer with a wildly imaginative mind. I'm fine now, you go ahead with your work.]

Ling Lin: [OK] I'll call you after I finish working overtime.

Han Shu: [Waiting for you]

I slept until 8 p.m.

Having barely eaten lunch and missed dinner, Han Shu was now starving. He jumped up and rushed to the kitchen without hesitation.

The hallway and living room were dimly lit. She quietly concealed her footsteps, but the motion-sensor lights detected her keenly. The warm, pale orange light spread through the air, yet it still couldn't pierce the thick fog in her eyes.

Turning past the TV wall, the dining room and open kitchen are clearly visible, illuminated by a cool white ceiling light.

On the dining table, only the bowl she had used remained in its original place.

At the sink, a man with foamy hands scrubbed dishes while staring at a tablet propped up on the windowsill.

Han Shu stopped.

Wen Zhiyu seemed to be watching a video. His originally expressionless handsome face slowly furrowed his thick eyebrows. After watching for a while, his lips, which were neither fully healed nor thin, pursed into a straight line. After watching for a while longer, his chest rose and fell noticeably, and his center of gravity shifted between his left and right feet.

"Tsk."

He made a sound of dissatisfaction, then bent over, pouted his lower lip, touched the screen, and tapped to exit.

Han Shu: ?

Suneo? Is that you, Suneo?

Wen Zhiyu straightened up, placed the washed dishes in another sink, and continued scrubbing the next bowl with the foam. While washing, he glanced at the video thumbnails.

After reading a page, "Little Fu" once again bent over, pouted, and swiped down the screen.

After several attempts, Wen Zhiyu finally found a satisfactory video and clicked on it. But perhaps the volume was too low, he sighed and used "Xiaofu's" mouth to adjust the volume.

This is much harder than opening or closing a video. So he pecked at the volume button for ages, like a chicken pecking at rice, but still couldn't get it right.

...This person always uses his stunningly handsome face to do some incomprehensible things.

Han Shu suddenly felt a pang of envy for Wen Zhiyu. He wondered what kind of upbringing could have shaped such a strange yet independent personality.

He can be indifferent to guests, without considering whether his attitude might offend others. He can play on the bouncy castle as he pleases during a typhoon, without worrying about getting wet or catching a cold from the strong winds. He also possesses the talent and ability to write, and could pursue a meaningful career in output.

In the afternoon, she searched for the author Wen Zhiyu. Many posts and news articles praised him as a "genius with boundless imagination" and his works as having "absurd and bizarre aesthetics." The novel she found, which opened with transparent blood vessels, according to book reviews, used exaggeration to show the duality of blood ties and constraints.

A wonderful concept, and a brilliant understanding.

Han Shu slowly walked over and reached out to press the volume button.

Wen Zhiyu hurriedly withdrew a piece of his lower lip.

"Should we raise it?"

Wen Zhiyu was wearing Bluetooth earphones and couldn't hear clearly, "Hmm?"

Han Shu pointed to the volume, his index finger pointing upwards.

Wen Zhiyu suddenly realized and said in a tense voice, "Turn it down, thank you."

Han Shu did as instructed. As she moved away, her oversized shirt brushed against the man's rolled-up sleeves, making a barely audible rustling sound. Neither of them noticed.

She went to the guest's refrigerator, found a bag of instant hot and sour noodles, threw it into boiling water, and waited for it to boil again.

During this time, Wen Zhiyu washed the dishes once, rinsed them again with clean water, arranged them neatly on the drain rack, shook his hands, took off his headphones, and asked, "Fifth question, is it convenient to answer?"

Han Shu twitched his ears, still not quite used to the sudden politeness, and said softly, "The room fee, you have to make it convenient whether it's inconvenient or not."

Wen Zhiyu closed the tablet with one hand, leaned against the control panel, and slightly bent one long leg. "A question you might not like."

Han Shu glanced at the glass pot, confirmed that the noodles still needed to cook for a while, then turned around and leaned against the stove opposite him, "Excuse me."

She still felt a bit listless, like the weariness after working overtime for a week straight. So she habitually lowered her eyelids and looked at the floor.

The distance between the countertop and the stove is about one meter.

There was about fifty centimeters between the woman's pink slippers and the man's gray slippers.

Amid the sound of raindrops tapping on the glass, Han Shu heard him ask, "What was the main reason that prompted you to choose your husband?"

With Ms. Xu and Mr. Han's earnest admonitions echoing in her mind, she softly replied, "Be good to me, okay?"

After speaking, Han Shu looked up and found Wen Zhiyu staring straight at her with a puzzled expression.

For some reason, she felt that he was piecing together someone from her, and something from these trivial questions.

The bubbling sound of boiling water came from behind me.

Han Shu quickly turned off the heat. "Can I ask you a question too?"

After a few seconds of silence, the man finally said, "Hmm."

"Judging from your accent, you're not a local from Hainan Island, are you? What made you choose to settle here?" she asked.

Wen Zhiyu frowned. "You also want to settle down here?"

"I'd like to stay here for a while." Han Shu took a bowl and a chopstick from the drainer. "So I need to hear your opinion as a permanent resident."

"..." Wen Zhiyu asked, "What about your husband and children?"

Han Shu retorted irritably, "I don't care, can't I just take a break for a while?"

"..." Wen Zhiyu asked again, "How long should I rest?"

Mr. Problem can be aloof and refined, or eccentric and mysterious, but he is definitely not someone who warmly cares about his guests.

Han Shu turned off the stove, turned around, crossed his arms, and asked suspiciously, "Why are you asking this?"

Wen Zhiyu looked wary, slowly straightened up, his Adam's apple bobbing a few times before he said seriously, "I don't accept long-term rentals. You can't live here."

Han Shu: ...?