Chapter Fifty-Two – Reunion of Old Friends

Stepping out of Fragrant Garden, the sky was shrouded in dark clouds, and soon, a gentle rain began to fall.

Arriving at Textile City, Yishu felt a chill creeping over her and instinctively rubbed her arms. The warmth had all but vanished, and autumn’s footsteps drew ever closer. The rain had lasted the entire day, as if the city had returned to the rainy season of the first half of the year, with weeks of drizzle, heavy rain, and storms. She wondered how long this downpour would last.

The light streaming in from the eastern window was faint, barely illuminating the room. Despite the bright interior lights, the atmosphere felt tinged with desolation. The number of customers had dwindled drastically; throughout the day, only a handful had come near the shop, no more than could be counted on ten fingers. To Yishu’s surprise, Guo Yamei’s sales today were zero. Several customers had left without buying, unable to agree on prices. Yishu had fared slightly better, closing three deals at least.

It had been a day of endurance.

Both women watched the clock in the bottom right corner of their computers, counting down the hours.

Today, Guo Yamei was handling the accounts. At five o’clock, Yishu opened the cabinet beneath her desk, took out her bag, draped her jacket over her shoulders, and left work directly.

After four o’clock, the number of visitors to Textile City plummeted; after five, there were none at all.

What about Tang Chao?

Yishu found herself thinking of him for no apparent reason.

Perhaps it was simply a coincidence.

She exited through the north gate; the rain remained steady, neither heavier nor lighter, but the wind seemed to grow stronger. As she turned out from the stairwell, a cold gust slapped her face, as if she’d been struck.

Yishu pulled a folding umbrella from her bag. She had a habit of always carrying one, rain or shine, just in case.

Nearing the bus stop, a white van stopped in front of her. Water pooled on the ground, nearly splashing her shoes and trousers; she instinctively stepped back.

Vans, light trucks, and handcarts were a common sight around Textile City. The drivers fancied themselves experts, often barreling recklessly through, though, in truth, not a single serious accident had ever occurred.

Yishu was used to it and paid no mind, turning toward the bus stop.

“Yishu.” A woman’s voice called from behind, “Wait.”

She turned, raising her umbrella overhead.

The fine rain, whipped by winds from all directions, swayed and clung to her like a damp spiderweb, discomforting and persistent.

Yan Lu!

Yishu’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Get in, quickly.” Yan Lu opened the passenger door, twisting her body back to wave and shout, “Don’t just stand there.”

Yishu walked back, opened the rear door, closed her umbrella, shook off the droplets, and slipped inside.

It was a secondhand van, its exterior scarred and scratched, with a dent at the front corner—not too severe. The seats had been fitted with new covers, dark and patterned, hard to discern at first glance. Only Yan Lu’s passenger seat had a thick, camel-colored leather cover.

Of the five seats in the back, only one remained; the others, including the three at the far end, had been removed.

Yishu shook the rain from her clothes and looked around.

“Well, what do you think of my car?” Yan Lu turned her head. “Picked it up at the secondhand market for fifteen thousand. Spent a few hundred more to tidy it up. You wouldn’t believe what it looked like inside before—the seat covers were moldy, the carpet littered with cigarette ash.”

Yishu listened as Yan Lu spoke, her gaze unfocused.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” Yan Lu nudged her arm. “What’s wrong? Are you so happy to see me that you can’t even speak?”

“No.” Yishu forced a bitter smile. “When did you buy this car?”

“It’s been a while now.”

Yishu was puzzled. Why would Yan Lu choose such an old vehicle? Though it had been thoroughly cleaned and refurbished, the faint odors inside were still detectable, ingrained through years and impossible to fully erase.

Yan Lu caught the unspoken question in Yishu’s expression. “You’re wondering why I bought such a battered car, aren’t you?” Yishu, exposed, looked embarrassed. “It’s related to what I’m about to tell you.”

“We rely on him now for our livelihood.” She cast a sweet glance at Lu Xugao in the driver’s seat.

Only then did Yishu notice the man driving: Lu Xugao, wearing a black utility shirt, his hair messy with tiny white flecks. From behind, he looked several years older—or, more aptly, mature.

Lu Xugao glanced at Yishu in the rearview mirror, then returned his focus to the road. Still new to driving, he dared not relax. In truth, he’d gotten his license at eighteen, but his family hadn’t owned a car for him to use.

“It’s been so long, Yishu.”

“It really has,” Yishu replied, a thousand questions crowding her throat. “How did you find Yan Lu? Why couldn’t I reach you anymore?”

“Well…” Lu Xugao stammered, unable to answer.

“It was my decision,” Yan Lu said, unwilling to let him be misunderstood. “Don’t blame him.” Her gaze brimmed with apology and remorse as she pleaded, “Yishu, I’m truly sorry. I haven’t known what to do these days. At first, it felt like the world was collapsing. Later, he found me and poured his heart out, and I finally made up my mind. As for disappearing, it was mostly because of my mother—I didn’t want her to see me like this, so down and out. I want to make something of myself with him, to show her she was wrong, that my judgment isn’t flawed!”

Yishu listened in confusion but grasped the gist. “Don’t vanish like that again. If you’re upset, you can always talk to me. I might not be much help, but I can at least…”

Yan Lu reached out and squeezed Yishu’s hand. “I know, I know. I won’t do anything so foolish again.” She looked at Lu Xugao. “I believe it—I won’t have another chance to do something so foolish.”

“Mother…” Yishu hesitated, debating whether to ask. After much thought, she decided it was best.

Yan Lu released her hand. “I haven’t spoken to her in a long time. She doesn’t want to see me anyway. Don’t worry. One day, I’ll go to her myself, but now isn’t the right time.”

Lu Xugao kept his left hand on the wheel, reaching with his right to hold Yan Lu’s hand, as if conveying something silently.

Yan Lu savored his warmth for a moment, then deliberately darkened her expression. “Focus on driving.”

“Yes,” Lu Xugao replied cheerfully.

Yishu recalled the day she’d visited Blue Sea City. Yan’s mother’s cold face, her indifference toward her daughter’s disappearance—not a hint of worry or anxiety, only apathy and disregard.

Perhaps there were hidden pains she couldn’t express. As an outsider, Yishu felt it best to let time heal their wounds.

The van turned onto Yuyang Road and entered Xingzhou Avenue.

The traffic was overwhelming; six lanes choked with vehicles, barely moving. Electric bikes zipped past the window on the non-motorized lane, as if reenacting the tortoise-and-hare race.

“Where are we going now?” Yishu asked.

“To see where I work and live these days,” Yan Lu replied, her voice tinged with laughter.

Yishu had been eager to learn about Yan Lu’s current life. She’d been evasive before, but today she finally invited Yishu openly. Clearly, things had improved for her.

“By the way, where does your boyfriend live? Wasn’t it in Fragrant Garden?”

“He…” Yishu hesitated.

“What’s wrong? I’ve met him before, haven’t I? Didn’t you introduce us?” Yan Lu sensed something amiss. “Did you two quarrel?”

Yishu had to admire Yan Lu’s keen insight; she always saw through her troubles with ease. If only she’d chosen detective work.

Yishu forced a stiff smile. “He’s busy today, so he probably won’t have time.”

Her obvious slip didn’t escape Yan Lu, but this time she didn’t press. After these months, she’d learned not to pry, to keep her own counsel. Exposing someone’s wounds in person was humiliating, even cruel.

“If he bullies you, you must tell me—I’ll stand up for you,” Yan Lu pinched Lu Xugao. “And he’ll help too,” she said, nudging him with her chin. “Right?”

“Yes—” he answered, drawing out the word. “Yishu, don’t stand on ceremony with us. If you need anything, just ask.”

Yishu nodded. Their little gestures, the glances they exchanged, filled her with envy.

But beneath the envy, a sense of desolation welled up.

Had Tang Dai not barged in so suddenly, these needless negative emotions would never have arisen.

But she appeared without warning, and nothing could be done.

Shixi, Yishu silently recited his name in her heart. I love you so much. If I lose you, I don’t know if I can go on. Had I known love was so painful, I would have prepared myself for a solitary life. Now it’s too late—I can only believe, I want to believe, can I believe?

The uncertain rain on the window blurred the world outside as if seen through frosted glass.

And at this moment, my world, too, was blurred.