Chapter Four – Wounded

“What happened to your forehead? And how did you get those marks on your neck?” Su Yishu asked worriedly, looking at her brother covered in bruises. “Were you bullied?”

Yishu knew her brother’s temperament well—gentle, even timid. He had never dared to fight back when bullied, barely daring even to breathe loudly. Since their mother passed away, he’d become even more withdrawn, quiet, and melancholic.

“I’m fine. I got scratched by a cat,” Su Yihui replied, his voice quivering close to tears.

He was terrible at hiding his true feelings. Anyone, let alone his sister who knew him so well, could see through his flimsy excuse.

It had probably started in middle school—with adolescence came turbulence and rebellion. Most boys changed drastically, suddenly relishing the act of picking on those weaker than themselves. Petty altercations went unpunished by teachers, so the schoolyard bullies kept testing the limits, probing the boundaries of violence.

“Do you take me for a fool? What sort of cat could scratch you like this?” Su Yishu gently examined his wounds. “I’ll talk to your homeroom teacher about this.”

Yihui pushed her hand away and blurted out, panicked, “Don’t go.”

In truth, it wouldn’t help much. Three feet of ice doesn’t form in a single day. Bureaucratic solutions only lay a thin membrane atop the surface, with outsiders naively believing the cold has been banished, while the biting winds and snowstorms rage on beneath.

Yihui’s mournful, longing gaze spoke volumes. Yishu seemed to understand.

“I won’t say more. Go eat your lunch,” she said softly, squeezing his arm. “You’re too thin—thinner than I am. High school is demanding; you need proper nutrition. Don’t pinch pennies where you shouldn’t.” She took some money from her pocket and handed it to him.

“Okay.” Yihui nodded obediently.

Since starting high school, with the school so far from home—a journey of over ten kilometers that took at least an hour—Yihui had to live in the dorms. At first, he came home every week, then once every two weeks, and eventually only once every few months. Truthfully, for him, school and home felt much the same. On weekends, his roommates all left, leaving him alone. Back at home, his sister worked shifts around the clock—she was either at work or asleep—so it was as if he was alone there, too. Childhood friends had drifted away after middle school, and he hadn’t had many close companions to begin with.

Yishu watched her brother’s departing figure—so thin, so desolate. Even the colorful spring seemed dimmed.

His silhouette blurred in the distance while her thoughts grew clear. Only then did Yishu realize she’d forgotten to ask about his studies. The college entrance exams were only two months away, and with his consistently mediocre grades, she wasn’t sure he’d be able to cross that final threshold.

And then there was the impending demolition of their home. Should she run after him to tell him? If he found out, would he feel the same resistance, reluctance, and even dejection she did?

Yishu let him vanish from her sight, leaving the decision to time.

She’d wait until after the exams.

Leaving Yuncheng High School, Yishu strolled down the street. The plane trees along the road were budding, dappling the pavement with shifting patches of sunlight.

She let her mind wander.

“Are you still downtown? Want to have lunch together?”

A message popped up on Yishu’s phone.

She opened it—it was him: Xu Shixi!

She’d just inexplicably ended up in his car and had been annoyed with herself for it. Now, this unprompted invitation—what was he thinking? Yishu couldn’t make sense of it.

“I’ve already taken the bus home, but thank you for the offer,” she replied after some thought.

Time passed, and her phone remained silent. She checked it repeatedly, wondering if it had malfunctioned. Even though she’d refused him outright, she found herself hoping for a different outcome.

On Tuesday’s bus, the crowds had dispersed. She found a corner seat, leaned back, and listened to the stop announcements, watching passengers get on and off, spaces alternating between presence and absence.

Her mind was a tangle of confusion—the unknown future and the vanished past swirling together.

Her phone chimed again.

A faint smile tugged at her lips.

But no, it wasn’t another message from him.

It was a voice message from Yan Lu, nearly a minute long. Yishu pressed play.

“You really have no conscience, leaving me behind like that! Do you know my mom laid into me again this morning? If you’d been here, she’d have held back her temper for the sake of appearances.”

Hearing Yan Lu’s complaints, Yishu felt a pang of guilt. Yan Lu had always been there for her—never one to care about money, back during those hardest years six years ago, she’d scrimped and saved her own living expenses to help out Yishu’s family, and even after starting work, she’d kept it up for a while.

Yishu pressed her forehead and sighed, replying, “Sorry.”

She didn’t want to explain too much. No matter what, she refused to make excuses for herself.

—“Should I come see you?”

—“No need. I don’t want you to see my mom’s ferocious face and feel uncomfortable.”

—“Are you… alright?”

—“It’s fine. She’s done yelling. Really, you don’t need to come over. I’ll see you at work tomorrow and tell you all about it.”

At the bridge leading from the village to downtown Yuncheng, people walked by now and then, but cars were scarce. Yet the view here was beautiful, the city living up to its name—almost every day, the sky was filled with clouds, sometimes in great swathes, sometimes scattered in wisps. Sometimes, Yishu would stand on the empty bridge and look into the distance, watching the thick clouds press the sky down to the earth—it was hard to say if that made her feel at ease or oppressed. Still, the endless blue and white seemed like a gift, something extra bestowed by life.

Not far from the bridge was the market, where by mid-afternoon the elderly would bring homegrown vegetables to sell. It was still early, so only a few stalls were scattered about.

Yishu got off the bus, stopped by the market, bought some tomatoes, a pound of eggs, and a little over a third of a kilo of dried noodles. She picked up a few frozen foods for emergencies after late shifts.

On her way home, she intentionally took a detour to the village committee building. The courtyard was empty, and upstairs one office door stood half-open. She was too far away to see what was happening inside.

She stood there, lost in thought, then turned and left. Xu Shixi had a point, she thought—maybe it was best to go along with the majority’s interests.

She couldn’t be a lone holdout, especially when everything around her was yielding and changing so willingly. What was the point of clinging to the past in isolation? In the midst of change, refusing to change was simply too conspicuous, too out of place.

As she entered the yard, she heard Aunt Wang next door discussing the demolition with another neighbor.

Only a few half-green, half-withered banana plants leaned against the wall.

Another sleepless night awaited her.

The next morning, Yishu arrived at Kaisheng and was parking her bike when Yan Lu showed up, full of excitement about the demolition news.

Yishu was surprised by how quickly the news had traveled. Though they lived in the same town, their villages were seven or eight kilometers apart. Word certainly spread fast.

Yan Lu was delighted about the demolition. She’d never liked the old wooden houses, which over time took on a musty, decaying odor. Her family had once debated whether to rebuild or buy new, but as luck would have it, that year the city initiated its urban village redevelopment pilot program. Yan Lu’s village became one of the first to participate.

After the renovation, she always boasted to Yishu that she was now half a city resident. The Blue Ocean City neighborhood where she lived was, geographically, closer to downtown Yuncheng than Yishu’s family home.

Yishu didn’t share Yan Lu’s excitement and didn’t want to continue the topic. She nodded and changed the subject. “How are you today? From your voice message, it sounded pretty bad.”

“Don’t mention it. I just treat her like air. Once she’s done yelling, she’s satisfied, and it’s over,” Yan Lu replied, embarrassed.

As they climbed the stairs to the office area, they overheard voices filled with envy. They slowed their steps and listened. It turned out Guo Yamei had landed several sizable orders that morning, totaling about seventy thousand yuan. It was only the beginning of the month, and her sales were already nearing what some of their less successful colleagues managed in half a month.

Yishu walked to her desk as if nothing had happened.

Yan Lu shrugged. “Success has gone to her head.” She didn’t think much of Guo Yamei.

“Oh, it’s nothing special. I’ve just been lucky lately,” Guo Yamei replied, unable to hide her pride. “Those of you with less luck should just put in more overtime. Like certain people.”

Yishu quietly booted up her computer and logged in. Two customers immediately sent her messages.

One of them was getting married in early May; the new home renovation was almost finished, so he was looking to buy curtains and furniture ahead of time. He’d taken a liking to a curtain set called “Twin Lotus in Bloom.” The set included not only curtains, but also valances, sheers, bead curtains, and matching cushion covers, table runners, tablecloths, and rugs.

Yishu inquired about his window dimensions and preferences. The customer sent her a photo of a note with the measurements: one floor-to-ceiling window, one bay window, and two sliding windows.

She discussed the specific sizes with the customer and, after some negotiation, sent him the final calculations.

He couldn’t find any fault with her numbers.

The total for the four sets came to 9,030 yuan.

He balked at the price, saying it was over budget.

This “Twin Lotus” pattern required precise pattern-matching in production, ensuring the design remained complete and beautiful even when the curtains were drawn.

Yishu calmly explained. Kaisheng’s curtain prices were already among the most competitive in the industry—three to five percent cheaper on comparable products. Plus, they offered free shipping, shipping insurance, and supported returns and exchanges within seven days for all but custom orders.

When Yishu refused to budge on price, the customer threatened to shop elsewhere—a common tactic.

With five years of customer service experience, Su Yishu easily recognized what was really being said.

—I imagine you chose Kaisheng after comparing prices and styles. Our curtain prices are the best value in the industry. You can check across the whole internet if you like.

—Let me think about it.

—Of course. Take your time. But I should mention, this is a custom order with complex workmanship. From ordering, to scheduling, to production and shipping, it’ll take at least half a month.

—That long?

—We take pride in being meticulous and responsible to our clients.

—At least give me a discount, and I’ll place the order now.

—Alright, 8,888 yuan for good luck.

The customer said no more and placed his order. Yishu updated the price and marked the required styles and sizes.

After an hour, the deal was done.

Yishu got up to pour herself a glass of water in the break room and gazed out the window at the fine weather. In the distance, a few kites floated in the sky, white clouds scattered across a field of blue.