23. Du Kang
The room was dark. The heavy curtains were drawn tightly shut by Yi Yi, completely blocking out the three o'clock afternoon sunlight. She was lying on the sofa, still wearing the same pajamas she had worn when she dropped Kai Kai off at school that morning, her hair casually tied up, a few strands clinging to her sweaty neck.
She didn't know how long she had been lying there. An hour? Or three hours? Time lost its measure, becoming a chaotic, viscous substance that enveloped her.
The breakfast dishes were still piled in the sink, and the table was covered with uncollected milk stains and breadcrumbs. A thin layer of dust covered the floor, and you could see the messy footprints she had left that morning in her slippers as she walked from the bedroom to the kitchen and then collapsed back onto the sofa. The blankets in the bedroom were piled haphazardly on the bed, like a dilapidated little mountain.
Everything fell apart. The meticulously planned order she had maintained for years, running like a clockwork mechanism, began to crumble the moment she received that diagnosis. At first, she resisted, trying to prove that everything was normal, that "she" could still control things, by scrubbing the floor more vigorously and planning her meals more meticulously. But the exhaustion washed over her like a tide, each wave more powerful than the last, until it finally overwhelmed her completely.
It seems as if an invisible hand gently turned off the switch in my body called "power".
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She turned her head, and a WeChat message from He Miao popped up on the screen: "Afternoon tea, same place, wanna go?"
She stared at those words, her fingers twitching, but she couldn't muster the strength to reply. Afternoon tea? What to talk about? What new words the kids had learned, which stores were having sales, those mundane details she had once been involved in, now feeling incredibly distant?
She was only thirty-seven. Her career was on hold, her dreams were shelved, and her life had shrunk to a simple routine between the kitchen and school. Now, even her health was showing signs of distress. A deep, unspeakable sense of failure gripped her. It seemed that all the choices and sacrifices she had made over the years had ultimately led to this self-depleted and prematurely aged end.
A sharp, empty pain shot through her stomach. She then realized she'd only had one cup of coffee since morning. But she was too lazy to get up and cook anything. After struggling for a while, she reached for her phone, opened the food delivery app, and swiped her finger across the screen, finally stopping at a Sichuan restaurant. She almost never ate spicy food, and neither did Zhuang Jia and Kai Kai. But at this moment, a strong, almost masochistic urge drove her. She needed intense stimulation, needed to be burned, spicy, and hurt—needed some sharp sensation to pierce this numb shell.
She ordered an "extremely spicy" mala xiang guo (a type of spicy stir-fry), adding pig brains and intestines—items she would never normally touch. She paid, then tossed her phone aside and continued to drift in the dim light and silence.
"Surprise!" A bright, smiling face suddenly approached; it was He Miao. Behind her stood Ding Xiaojuan, dressed in an elegant suit, raising an eyebrow as she surveyed the room.
Yi Yi froze instantly, her hand instinctively reaching to close the door, but He Miao stopped her.
"What are you doing? You haven't replied to my messages for ages, I thought you'd been kidnapped by aliens..." He Miao's words stopped abruptly when she saw the dimly lit and messy living room behind Yi Yi. The smile on her face froze, turning into astonishment.
"Yi Yi?" Ding Xiaojuan's voice was deep, with a professional scrutiny. "What happened?"
"N-nothing...it's nothing." Yi Yi avoided her gaze, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes. "It's just...I'm a little tired."
"A little tired?" He Miao walked in, casually pulling back the tightly closed curtains. Sunlight poured in like a flood, illuminating the dust particles dancing in the air. "Are you a little tired? Did you just get robbed?" She approached Yi Yi and looked closely at her face. "Have you been crying? Did Zhuang Jia bully you?"
"No!" Yi Yi immediately denied, her voice somewhat hoarse.
The doorbell rang again; this time it was indeed takeout. He Miao snatched the bag, which reeked of a strong, spicy aroma, opened it, and raised her eyebrows dramatically: "Extra spicy? Pig brain? Pork intestines? Yi Yi, what's gotten into you? Don't you usually complain about even mild spice?"
Yi Yi awkwardly tried to snatch it away, but Ding Xiaojuan took it, walked to the dining table, and opened the packaging box directly. The domineering and intense spicy aroma instantly filled the entire room, carrying a kind of raw vitality.
“Perfect timing, Xiaojuan and I haven’t had lunch either.” Ding Xiaojuan actually sat down, took out disposable tableware from the bag, broke it open, handed a set to He Miao, and then looked at Yi Yi, who was standing there in a daze, “What are you standing there for? Come over and eat with us.”
The tone was unquestionable, carrying a straightforward "less talk" attitude.
Yi Yi hesitated before walking over. He Miao had already run to the kitchen, expertly rummaged through the doors, and pulled out several cans of ice-cold beer, popping them open and placing them in front of everyone. "In this situation, we absolutely need some beer," she announced.
Three women sat down in the chaotic afternoon living room, huddled around a pot of bizarrely spicy "extremely hot" spicy stir-fry made with bright red oil and sauce. No one spoke, except for He Miao's hissing sound as she took her first bite of fatty intestines.
Yi Yi picked up a slice of lotus root covered in chili peppers and Sichuan peppercorns and put it in her mouth. Instantly, it felt like a fire exploded in her mouth, a burning sensation shooting straight to her head, followed by numbness and pain, and tears welled up in her eyes. She coughed, but couldn't help picking up another piece with her chopsticks.
"Eat slowly, no one's going to take it from you." Ding Xiaojuan sipped her beer, looking at her. "Now, tell me. What happened?"
Yi Yi's tears flowed even more fiercely, mixed with physiological tears brought on by the spiciness. She wanted to say "it's nothing," but in this pungent smell, under the undisguised concern of her friends, and against the backdrop of that chaotic "home" exposed to the sunlight, the defenses she had built up began to crumble piece by piece.
“I…” She sniffed, the spiciness shooting straight to the top of her head, giving her a strange, reckless urge. “I’m going to the hospital.”
"Are you sick?" He Miao put down her chopsticks, her expression becoming tense.
“It’s not a terminal illness.” Yi Yi first blocked their worst guesses, then took a deep breath, as if using all her strength, and uttered those words, “The doctor said I… have declining ovarian function. I’ve entered… premenopause prematurely.”
The air was quiet for a few seconds. Only the low hum of the air conditioner could be heard.
"How long has it been?" Ding Xiaojuan asked calmly, as if listening to a case report.
"The test results came back... a while ago." Yi Yi lowered her head, not daring to look at them. "I haven't dared to say it. I didn't know how to say it." She was also afraid of seeing pity, or worse, that subtle look of "So you've gotten old too."
"What did the doctor say? Is there a treatment plan?" He Miao pressed, her eyes filled with genuine anxiety.
"They said hormone therapy is possible, but it depends on the individual's wishes. The main thing is to adjust your lifestyle, eat healthily, exercise, and maintain a good mood..." Yi Yi repeated the doctor's words, her voice growing softer and softer, "But I'm so tired. Suddenly I feel like nothing has any meaning. I used to... I wasn't like this before."
"Nonsense!" He Miao slammed her hand on the table, her eyes reddening. "Of course you're not! You're the most opinionated, the most ambitious, and the most restless of the three of us! Back then, you quit your job and went to Beijing without hesitation, and you dared to take certification exams while heavily pregnant! Now you're telling us it's pointless?"
"It's because I used to be so restless that I now find it meaningless." Ding Xiaojuan took a big gulp of beer, her tone sharp. "You feel stuck, unable to see the road ahead, and your body is holding you back, right?"
Tears welled up in Yi Yi's eyes, and she nodded vigorously. Finally, someone had precisely punctured the balloon in her heart that was swollen but unspeakable with just one sentence.
"Are you stupid?" Ding Xiaojuan put down her beer can, but her voice softened. "Yi Yi, you think that's all? You're only thirty-seven, not seventy-three. So what if you're going through menopause? Modern medicine can keep seventy- or eighty-year-old women healthy and energetic, and you, at thirty-seven, are sentenced to death by these few indicators? All the books you've read, the knowledge you've gained, and all the energy you've accumulated over the years, have gone to waste?"
"But...I feel useless," Yi Yi choked out. "My career is over, my dreams are gone, and now even my body..."
“But these things… anyone can do,” Yi Yi murmured.
"Bullshit!" Ding Xiaojuan cursed. "I just can't do it! I can't even unclog a kitchen drain! Gao Sheng can't even communicate with his own son! What you can do is exactly what many people can't do or can't do well! You're just... temporarily lost, unable to find that new goal that makes you feel 'excited'."
She paused, her gaze sharpening as she looked at Yi Yi: "Besides, you didn't tell Zhuang Jia at all, did you?"
Yi Yi tacitly agrees.
"I knew it." Ding Xiaojuan snorted. "You expect him to guess from your 'listless' behavior that you have an endocrine disorder and a psychological crisis? He'll just think you're being dramatic or having too much free time. Men and women are sometimes like two different operating systems; they're not very compatible and need clear 'drivers' and 'problem reports.' If you don't tell him, he'll always be guessing, and if he guesses wrong, he'll blame you for being difficult to please."
He Miao shoved a freshly opened can of beer into Yi Yi's hand: "Drink! Don't think about those lousy things today! Just think about this insanely spicy hot pot, this ice-cold beer, and that the two of us are still next to you! Even if the sky falls, we have to eat and drink our fill first so we have the strength to hold it up!"
Yi Yi took the beer, the icy touch making her shiver. She looked at the bright red hot pot in front of her, at He Miao's face, flushed red from the spiciness yet still radiant, and at Ding Xiaojuan's unwavering gaze beneath her exquisite makeup. The burning sensation in her throat, the tingling of the ice-cold beer, and the rough yet heartfelt comfort from her friends—it was like a mixed force, forcibly filling her cold, numb body.
She tilted her head back and gulped down most of a can of beer. The alcohol, mixed with the lingering spiciness, ignited a warm, slightly painful fire in her stomach.
The three women fell silent, eating and drinking in silence. When the spiciness brought tears to their eyes, they gulped down ice-cold beer to calm themselves. The table quickly became a mess, with empty beer cans piling up. It seemed that the fear, resentment, and self-doubt that had been suppressed for so long were being forced out of their bodies little by little, along with the sweat, tears, and the smell of alcohol.
The alcohol began to take effect, and the floodgates opened completely. From complaining about their husbands' lack of romance to anxieties about the cutthroat world of raising children, to feelings of insecurity about their own worth… topics usually shrouded in rationality and propriety were now laid bare unabashedly in the sunlight and the stench of alcohol. They screamed, laughed, and swore, as if they had returned to a carefree moment in their youth.
Kai Kai and Gun Gun were stacking Lego on the carpet in the corner, oblivious to the noise around them.
Zhuang Jia stood frozen at the doorway, unable to reconcile the scene before him with the bright, clean, quiet, and orderly home he remembered.
He Miao was the first to see him. She raised her beer can and shouted indistinctly, "Hey! The master of the house is back! Come on! Let's celebrate 'Forget You' holiday!"
"Forgot your holiday?" Zhuang Jia looked at Yi Yi, completely bewildered.
Yi Yi raised her hazy eyes and looked at him, then suddenly chuckled, her smile carrying a strange, unrestrained air and a touch of... sadness that he had never seen before.
“Yes…” she drawled, holding up the jar, “to celebrate…to celebrate the holiday when we’ve almost forgotten who we are.”
After she finished speaking, she tilted her head back and drank the rest of the beer in one gulp, then with a "thud," her forehead gently rested on the cold beer can.
The clamor seemed to vanish instantly. Zhuang Jia looked at his wife's slightly trembling shoulders, then at the chaos in the room and the complex expressions on his wife's friends' faces. For the first time, he felt a vague yet heavy understanding of Yi Yi's unusual silence and dejection these past few days:
Something's really wrong.
And it seems he missed the most important opportunity for discovery.
The night was still long, and the effects of the wine hadn't worn off. This night, whose tranquility had been unexpectedly shattered, was like a pebble thrown into a deep lake, its ripples slowly spreading unseen beneath the surface.
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