Chapter Four

A biting wind howled, and the number of pedestrians on the road dwindled. Zuo Xutong stood on the overpass, staring intently at the bridgehead, but couldn't see a single person for a long time. Her hands and feet were icy cold, her body trembled, her nose was red from the cold, and her face appeared even paler.

The dilapidated overpass spanning the road, connecting the north and south sides, is called Nanxuan Bridge. It was fortunately preserved because it was included in the old city area during the relocation planning. For several nights in a row, Zuo Xutong came to the bridge to set up a stall, rain or shine. She thought that selling disposable items near the cheap hotel would be a good business, but business was very poor. It turned out that the news on the Internet about "white-collar workers earning more than 10,000 yuan a month by setting up stalls" was a lie.

The streetlights under the bridge swayed precariously in the strong wind, dragging the shadows on the wall from side to side. A drunkard staggered onto the overpass, a half-empty bottle of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor) tucked into his pocket. He swayed and staggered to the stall, slowly bending down and squinting as he scanned the small items on the stall... disposable toothbrushes, disposable paper cups, disposable slippers, and even disposable toilet seats.

"Heh, you've got quite a collection!" The drunkard burped, a strange smile spreading across his rough face. "That thing, do you have it?"

"What?"

The drunk stared at her, then asked irrelevantly, "How much does it cost?"

"..."

How much per session?

Zuo Xutong avoided the drunkard's sticky gaze and finally understood what he meant.

"Girl, name your price. It's all the same whether you're selling something or not!" The drunkard threw down the bottle and pinched her cheek.

Zuo Xutong disgustedly pried his hands away, as if scraping off a lump of shit smeared on her face.

"Come with me, I'll take all this junk, two thousand, is that enough?" The drunkard, emboldened by alcohol, began to grope Zuo Xutong, as if the person in front of him was not a living, breathing person with flesh and blood and a mind, but a statue that one could enter a tourist attraction and touch at will after paying an entrance fee.

Under the overpass, a row of cheap hotel signs gleamed with an ambiguous light, like prostitutes on the street in a red-light district—vulgar and ostentatious. After being freed, the drunkard persistently pulled out his wallet, waving the bright red hundred-yuan bills inside: "Not enough? Three thousand? Five thousand?"

"Keep your money safe, lest it be blown away by the wind." Zuo Xutong pushed his wallet away.

The drunkard proudly shook the wad of money in his hand, muttering incoherently, "Afraid...afraid...what? I have plenty of money!"

"If you have a lot of money, you can donate it to children who have dropped out of school."

"Donate to dropouts?" The drunkard's hand paused in mid-air, seemingly sobering up a bit, and he sneered, "That's worse than giving it to beggars. What's the use of studying? Aren't there unemployed college graduates everywhere these days?"

Zuo Xutong was speechless after hearing those words. After rejecting Chao Ma, she interviewed at two more companies, but received no response from either of them.

Every interview she went through was met with questions about what she had been doing for the five years following her graduation from university. This five-year gap in her job search made things incredibly difficult, and for a long period she didn't even get a single interview opportunity.

A sudden gust of cool wind jolted the drunkard awake, sobering him up somewhat, but he still showed no sign of leaving: "In this cold weather, aren't your family worried about you setting up a stall on the overpass all by yourself?"

"It's none of your business." Zuo Xutong unfolded the blue woven bag beside her, preparing to pack up her stall.

"Don't rush off before you finish speaking!" The drunkard grabbed the woven bag with great force, spilling its contents all over the ground. Zuo Xutong was also pulled down.

The drunkard immediately pounced on her, pinning her shoulders down. Zuo Xutong's face was pressed against the cold ground, her features flattened, and she stammered, "Let...let me go!"

Fear spread through the night. Just then, a series of unhurried footsteps came from not far away. A moment later, a pair of men's feet appeared before her eyes. They were plain-colored canvas shoes made of washed fabric, the uppers of which were stiff and white from being brushed. The style was somewhat like the Warrior brand cloth shoes from the last century, incredibly outdated.

Zuo Xutong stretched her neck as far as she could, trying to raise her head higher. Then she saw the trousers on the shoes: gray, open, twill cotton... A sense of desolation washed over her. Judging from the style of the cloth shoes and the material of the trousers, this was probably an elderly man.

But the situation was critical, and she couldn't care less about anything else. She grabbed the trouser leg in front of her like a drowning person grasping at a straw: "Grandpa, don't go!"

"Did you sell all of these?" Warrior Cloth Shoes asked casually, his voice slightly indifferent. He sounded very young, completely different from the old and hoarse voice he had imagined.

Zuo Xutong breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a little more at ease. She even changed how she addressed the Warrior cloth shoes: "Big brother, can you help me up first?"

Perhaps out of fear, the drunkard released Zuo Xutong's shoulder, but his knee remained pressed against her lower back. However, she was finally able to lift her head and see the man in the Warrior cloth shoes clearly: a young and handsome face with well-defined features.

The man in the Warrior cloth shoe stuck out one foot and kicked the small item on the ground with the toe of his shoe, as if he were rummaging through a dead rat that had just eaten rat poison. He didn't want to touch it, but he had to check if it was completely dead. His face was full of disgust: "Are they all disposable?"

With her first sale in days about to be completed, Zuo Xutong momentarily forgot her predicament and nodded frantically, saying, "Yes, what do you want? You can get a discount if you buy more."

Warrior Cloth Shoes frowned slightly: "Are you short of money? So... you'll do anything as long as it makes money?"

Zuo Xutong's expression froze, and she subconsciously increased the pressure on her hand: "You've misunderstood, I don't know him at all, I was..."

"Let go!" Warrior Cloth Shoes remained unmoved, expressionless as he bent down, pried her fingers apart one by one, dusted off the trouser leg she had grabbed, straightened up, too lazy to look at her again, and turned to disappear at the end of the overpass.

As soon as the Warrior cloth shoes left, the drunkard, who had been too afraid to move, suddenly stood up as if released from a pressure point. He used all his strength to pull Zuo Xutong and drag her off the bridge.

Zuo Xutong clung desperately to the overpass railing. In the struggle, her scarf was ripped off, and two buttons on her coat were missing. The cold wind seeped into her body through her collar, chilling her to the bone. The two remained locked in this stalemate for an unknown amount of time until she was completely exhausted. She let the drunkard drag her along, like an antelope that had run across half the grassland only to be caught by a cheetah, resignedly lying on the ground, awaiting her fate of being eaten alive.

However, before they even stepped off the overpass, they were stopped by two urban management officers in black uniforms: "Hello, we have received a report from the public that someone is illegally setting up a stall on Nanxuan Bridge."

"It's her!" Perhaps the words and actions of the law enforcement officers were too intimidating, because the drunk man was now completely sober. He quickly released Zuo Xutong and kept his distance from her as if avoiding a plague, afraid that the urban management officers would think that the two had some kind of relationship.

"Who are you to her?" another city management officer asked.

The drunkard scratched his head, but before he could speak, Zuo Xutong interrupted him, saying, "He forced me into prostitution."

"Nonsense!" The drunkard glared with red eyes and frantically defended himself, "Don't listen to her nonsense. I have a family, a wife and children. How could I do such a shameless thing?"

The two urban management officers looked at each other, then simultaneously looked at Zuo Xutong: "Miss, we can't handle this. We're only responsible for clearing up illegal street vendors."

In the end, she escaped from danger, but because she couldn't pay the fine, all her goods were confiscated.

Zuo Xutong rented an apartment in the old town south of Yuanjiang Road, just across the street from Tianxin Yayuan, but the two places were worlds apart. It was a corner forgotten by modern society, with dirty and cramped buildings, sewage-filled streets, dusty internet cafes, and breakfast stalls filled with foul odors... The city's grandeur, beauty, luxury, and prosperity seemed to have nothing to do with it.

A light snow fell during the night, but it melted before it even hit the ground. The road was slippery, and Zuo Xutong walked carefully, afraid that her suede ankle boots would get splashed with water.

Yesterday, when she received the interview call, she was sitting on her bed counting money. After paying six months' rent, she only had a little over 700 yuan left. If she couldn't find a job soon, she would be destitute.

The lab technician's income was already very meager. In order to buy experimental materials, she had not saved any money after working for two years. She also spent all the savings left after selling her house. As a result, her major was revoked before she could finish her research project.

How could someone let their life turn out like this? If she hadn't dropped out of school, even if she had to delay graduation for a year or two, she could have eventually earned a doctorate from a prestigious university and found a good job.

After returning home, she called her mother. When Xiao Ping learned about her daughter's situation, she couldn't help but complain, "You didn't even look for a partner or pursue your doctorate because of that stupid research project. You even squandered a house. After two years of struggling, you haven't accomplished anything. I'm so angry with you!"

In her mother's and sister's eyes, Zuo Xutong was a complete failure. At her age, she was homeless, living hand to mouth, without a husband, without children, and without even a stable job. All she had was a bunch of idiotic and ridiculous scientific ideals.

They saw her as an oddball, how selfish and irresponsible it was for a woman to give up marriage for her ideals. They wanted her to follow the same path as them, to live the same mediocre life, and they told her again and again: We are all ordinary people, don't be so self-important, a woman's ultimate destination is the family, and everyone has lived like this since ancient times.

Zuo Xutong straightened the collar of her coat and followed the crowd out of the subway station. It was still early before work hours, and the streets were deserted. The shared bicycles outside the park were neatly stacked in a row, looking even more desolate after being washed by the rain, seemingly untouched.

Just then, a shared bicycle sped past her. Zuo Xutong was a little surprised; in such cold weather, and with the road in such bad shape, someone was actually riding a bicycle. Out of curiosity, she couldn't help but glance at the driver a couple more times. He was very tall and had a straight posture, but his clothes were rather shabby—a loose-fitting khaki cotton jacket, and his backpack was so old that the original color was no longer visible. Zuo Xutong looked him up and down, and those shoes… they looked vaguely familiar.

She suddenly looked up and almost cried out in surprise when she caught sight of the driver's face—it was him! The man in the Warrior shoes hadn't noticed Zuo Xutong. He parked his car, took out a clean handkerchief, and carefully wiped the mud off his trousers. This action reminded Zuo Xutong of the terrifying scene from that night; if he hadn't stood by and watched her suffer, her goods wouldn't have been confiscated by the city management officers.

Walking behind him in Warrior shoes, she quietly speculated about his profession. Judging from his attire, he didn't seem like a white-collar worker in an office building. Was he a security guard? A cleaner? A warehouse manager…? Just as she was wondering, Warrior shoes very cooperatively bent down and picked up an empty beverage bottle from the ground. Oh, so he was a cleaner.

Zuo Xutong knew that most sanitation workers had a side job of collecting recyclables. The dilapidated community where she was currently renting had no access control, and several groups of middle-aged and elderly people would come in every day to collect recyclables. They would meander through the community like a gluttonous snake, following the route of the trash cans. On average, each trash can would be searched three or four times a day.

Watching the back of the man in Warrior shoes, Zuo Xutong thought to herself, "He's so young to be doing this kind of work. It's such a waste of his good looks. It seems that the competition is fierce in every industry."

The morning interview went surprisingly smoothly; she was able to answer all the questions fluently.

Zuo Xutong applied for a research and development engineer position. Polar Blue Sky's R&D department has two R&D centers. Previously, the company's main products were lithium iron phosphate batteries and ternary lithium batteries. However, due to the technical shortcomings of lithium iron phosphate batteries in improving energy density, the company cut this product line and added a hydrogen fuel cell R&D center.

After the interview, she took the subway back to Yuanjiang Road, wanting to get something to eat near her apartment complex. The few restaurants downstairs were dirty and run-down, and what was even more infuriating was that they took advantage of their large portions and affordable prices to justify their filth.

Zuo Xutong walked into a ramen shop. The shop's signboard was brand new and shiny, but the inside was a mess. It turned out that they had just replaced the old pots with new lids to deceive customers. If the waiter hadn't been so enthusiastic, she probably would have turned around and left without hesitation.

The shop was only about 20 square meters, and the whole place smelled of stale cooking oil after oxidation. The words on the menu were blurred, as if they had been ravaged by countless dirty hands. The wall closest to the kitchen was blackened by oil fumes, like a black and white ink painting created by a madman. There was also an unpleasant sticky layer on the table surface, which was a mixture of oil stains and grime that had accumulated over the years and could not be wiped clean.

Zuo Xutong chose a seat near the door and reluctantly ordered a bowl of clear broth ramen for 12 yuan. A short while later, the broth arrived, a large bowl overflowing with noodles—definitely the style of a small street-side restaurant. She reached out to pull the bowl closer, but frowned as she touched the rim. A clean porcelain glaze should feel dry and smooth, but this bowl felt oily. Looking at her palm, she saw that several of her fingers were indeed shiny.

Zuo Xutong suppressed her nausea and tried to avoid the noodles touching the edge of the bowl, managing to eat a few bites. She only had a few hundred yuan left for living expenses and couldn't afford to waste a meal.

A few days later, Zuo Xutong walked into the R&D department of Polar Blue Sky New Energy Company. The work pace here is very fast. The R&D staff are chased by one project after another. Their mental state fluctuates between helplessness and enlightenment all year round. The LED ceiling lights in the office often shine a white light in an eerie and stubborn way when the entire office building is plunged into darkness.

Jiang Zhuo, the R&D director, is a man nearing forty. He wears black-rimmed glasses and has sparse, curly hair that is a mix of black and white, caused by long-term overuse of his brain.

On the day of the interview, Jiang Zhuo was the highest-ranking person present. Although Zuo Xutong performed very well during the interview, her educational background was too low and her work experience too little. When considering candidates, several interviewers raised questions about this, but Jiang Zhuo overruled their objections and insisted on keeping her.