Chapter Forty – Anxious and Uneasy

The next day, news of the Textile City gates being smashed spread like wildfire. Vivid retellings and embellished anecdotes were piled high, each more dramatic than the last.

When Yishu passed by the gossiping crowd, she deliberately kept a calm, unruffled expression. After arriving at the police station the previous day, the management of Textile City had quickly appeared as well. The man who came was approaching forty, with deep crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, sparse brows, and unusually thick lips—a combination of features that, surprisingly, gave him a kindly look.

The real person in charge of Textile City excused himself, claiming other commitments, and sent this subordinate in his stead. The man’s surname was Zheng, a local who had once worked as a courier and food delivery man. After a car accident left him with a permanent limp, he’d come to work at Textile City through a friend’s recommendation at the age of thirty, managing odds and ends—tasks little different from those of a handyman.

Yishu apologized profusely, emotion shining in her reddened eyes. Old Zheng, seeing her sincerity and willingness to take responsibility, decided to downplay the incident.

Tang Chao, standing to one side, looked the picture of indifference and stoic resignation, as if none of this concerned him.

Guo Yamei was always the first to arrive at the shop, even back in the days at Kaisun. Today, she was on duty, sitting upright at the computer desk, checking the previous day’s reports. Any errors not caught and pointed out in the morning would be the responsibility of the day’s supervisor by evening.

Guo Yamei would never allow such a basic mistake to happen under her watch.

Yishu paused at the doorway, then awkwardly took a seat at the desk opposite Guo Yamei. The trickle of customers wouldn’t become a small rush until after ten; nine o’clock was the territory of the first floor. Most who came early would find suitable curtains on the first or second floor, both in style and price.

She glanced at her phone. Shixi must be awake by now—he rarely slept in. At this hour, he’d either be at Xunyuan or in Rongcheng.

There wasn’t a single window in the enclosed room for fresh air. Only a painted faux window hung where country-style curtains were displayed, and for scenery, they grudgingly borrowed the shop window of the store across the way.

Should she send him a message? After a fierce battle with her own longing, she finally gave in.

—Are you up?

A thousand words distilled into these plain, direct characters.

Xu Shixi quickly replied with a voice message.

Yishu glanced at Guo Yamei sitting opposite, and promptly hung up the call.

—Voice isn’t convenient for me right now.

The screen showed that he was typing.

—I’ll come see you at noon. Just focus on work for now.

Yishu’s delight was impossible to conceal.

Guo Yamei, ever perceptive, noticed the shift in her expression. For a salesperson, reading people was a basic skill.

“It’s work hours. Don’t do personal things,” Guo Yamei said, her face set in a somber frown. “Don’t forget, there are cameras watching.”

The reminder jolted Yishu awake. She hurriedly put away her phone, barely believing Guo Yamei would say such a thing to her. Was it a kind warning or a veiled threat? That inscrutable face was too exhausting to read.

The few customers who came in that morning were all intercepted by Guo Yamei. Of five guests, only one made a purchase.

“So you’re just going to stand there, saying and doing nothing?” Guo Yamei vented her frustration at Yishu. “You’re a sales clerk, not a greeter. You can’t just stand at the door, nodding and bowing.”

It was too much—Yishu finally understood the term “shameless.” Guo Yamei’s fickleness, her endless back-and-forth, was perhaps a flaw in her character, not a sudden pang of conscience.

Yishu was utterly perplexed: Why is it that when you try to re-examine someone, you sometimes find they’re even more disappointing than you imagined? The blow wasn’t enlightening or awakening—just numbing.

“If you’re not capable of closing sales, why do you push to take the lead?” Yishu retorted, not bothering to hide her displeasure. “If things go wrong, it’s my fault; if things go right, you take the credit… You’re an adult, yet today you’ve outdone any child in acting petty.” Her heart felt submerged in a glass of lemon water—acutely sour. The days of peaceful coexistence were over. In this world, taking a step back rarely brings vast open seas. More often, it only invites the other to press further.

“If you don’t have the skills for the job, don’t try to take it on.”

Unexpectedly, Guo Yamei remained calm, unmoved by Yishu’s flood of words, as if everything was within her expectations—or perhaps, beyond them.

A cold, fleeting smile crossed Guo Yamei’s face.

“Why are you so distracted?” Xu Shixi waved a hand in front of Yishu’s eyes. “Are you still upset about yesterday?”

She shook her head. “No, I was just thinking about work. Best not to talk about it.”

Clouds piled thick in the sky, as if a bottle of black ink had been spilled above them. Yet from a certain angle, it had the beauty of an impressionist ink painting.

Summer storms always arrive without warning—angry, urgent, falling to earth with a rush.

Puddles swelled instantly with rainwater.

Yishu and Shixi turned their gazes together to the window.

“You’re not going back to Rongcheng today?” she asked, stirring the now-lukewarm food in her bowl.

The biting cold of the air conditioning made it easy for any lingering warmth to dissipate.

Because I worry about you, I don’t want to leave.

Because I care about you, I linger as long as I can.

“Siming’s there—going a day later won’t matter,” Xu Shixi replied. In his heart and mind, Yishu filled every corner. The feeling of loving someone was the wish to become one with her, to escape the ache of longing.

Hearing bad news about her was like being struck by lightning, a thousand knots tightening at once.

Speaking of Qiao Siming, he’d become very proactive about the Rongcheng project. In fact, his work ability was on par with Xu Shixi’s. They were well matched, though Qiao lacked ambition and perseverance, content to let Xu Shixi direct him.

“I’m sorry,” Yishu said, “ever since we’ve been together, I keep bringing you trouble.”

Shixi’s heart ached for her. “You’re not bringing me trouble. In fact, I wish you’d trouble me more, so I could be bound to you even tighter. In the future, if anything happens, you must tell me right away.”

“Do you understand?”

Yishu nodded. “I thought you were in Rongcheng—if you came here just for me, I’d feel terrible.”

Shixi was deeply moved. Her words were like sweet rain, drop by drop soothing his parched heart.

“In the future, if you ever need me, even if I’m at the ends of the earth, you must tell me first,” he said, his gaze intense, his voice full of feeling. “If Yihui hadn’t told me yesterday, I might not have known until today.”

“Yihui…” Yishu’s thoughts drifted, fragments swirling but not quite coming together.

“Your brother was really worried about you,” Xu Shixi said, recalling last night. “I could hear in his voice how close he was to tears.”

“It’s clear you two are very close.”

Yihui had always been a painfully well-behaved child—so gentle it made one’s heart ache. He was slight and timid, and as certain things began to surface in adolescence, girls shunned him and boys took pleasure in bullying him. Yet, no matter how much he suffered, he remained unruffled. Gradually, he got used to talking to himself, going to and from school alone, eating by himself in a corner.

Yishu knew her brother desperately craved care and affection. But as a grown boy, to be doted on by anyone but his parents was not something to be proud of.

“Yes, Yihui is deeply sensitive and emotional,” Yishu replied, chewing her food before setting down her chopsticks. “Do you have any siblings? I’ve never heard you mention them.”

Xu Shixi also set his chopsticks aside, resting his arms on the table and gazing ahead. “I’m an only child. My mother’s health was never great. After having me, the doctor said it wasn’t safe for her to have any more.”

“Are they… well, now?” Yishu hesitated.

“She’s taken good care of by my father. Nearly sixty now, she still joins in square dancing with the neighbors every day,” Xu Shixi replied, his tone relaxed.

Their brief half-hour lunch passed in a flash, just like the sudden thunderstorm outside, now faded to a gentle drizzle. The sun couldn’t wait to return, hanging high in the southern sky.

Raindrops on the leaves scattered a rainbow of colors. Yishu shielded her eyes from the sun, peering through her fingers at the vast sky, clouds piling high. Everything felt as if reborn.