Chapter Seventy-Six: A Tangle of Doubts

Tonight is yet another sleepless night. It seems that ever since growing up, the chances of sleeping soundly have diminished exponentially. Yishu cannot recall how many nights of insomnia have plagued and tormented her.

Sometimes, thoughts are like living, breathing worms, squirming shamelessly into the body at its weakest moments, turning everything upside down and shaking the earth to its core.

After bidding farewell to Yishu and Xu Shixi, Lu Xuguo and Yan Lu drove toward Yunbei.

The road to Yunbei, after eight o’clock, was deep and desolate. The streetlights cast the winding avenue into a glowing stick, dancing lonely in the darkness.

Lu Xuguo gripped the steering wheel, glancing now at the road ahead, now at Yan Lu. Before he could speak, Yan Lu beat him to it, “You want to ask about what happened today, don’t you?”

Lu Xuguo nodded, “Yes.”

Yan Lu gazed out the window, into the boundless ink of night, endless and sorrowful. To tell one person another’s past, the choice of words and the structure of the tale all matter.

“Yishu cares deeply about her brother,” Yan Lu finally began. “I remember when he first entered junior high, unable to adapt to the new school, new environment, new classmates, new teachers. He was never a stellar student, but in his first mid-term exam, he ranked among the last few in his class. Math was particularly bad—often scoring in single digits. The teachers and classmates didn't like him. The boys thought he was girlish; the girls saw him as a boy nonetheless. So he became something of a third gender, ostracized by all. Before junior high, he was lively, but those three years changed him.”

Lu Xuguo listened half-heartedly; Yan Lu’s story seemed off the mark.

Yan Lu didn’t notice, and continued, “His only talent and interest was drawing. Unfortunately, that didn’t count for extra points in the high school entrance exam, unlike sports.”

“Is this related to what happened today?” Lu Xuguo couldn’t help but ask.

“Let me finish,” Yan Lu said, frustrated. “It’s a long story—you need patience to hear it through.”

The most infuriating interruption comes during creation. Once broken, those fleeting sparks of inspiration vanish, never to return, and no amount of effort can reconstruct even a blurred image.

“Yes, yes,” Lu Xuguo nodded repeatedly, focusing on both the story and his driving.

“One monthly exam, Yihui borrowed some tape from his deskmate, tilting his head a few degrees. The homeroom teacher accused him of cheating, and in front of the whole class, berated and humiliated him, then sent him to the office to stand in reflection, skipping the exam altogether. For someone so thin-skinned, it was a devastating blow. After that, partial isolation became total ostracization.” Yan Lu’s heart ached as she spoke—Yihui was Yishu’s brother, and so felt like hers too. “There was a written apology, of course. My dear sister has always been sensitive and meticulous. Seeing the tear-streaks on her brother’s face, she refused to let it go. She pressed him for the truth. She wanted to keep the peace—after all, teachers can retaliate when offended, and there are no saints in this world. I was partly to blame, encouraging her, and then that night the teacher called, unleashing a torrent of criticism. Yishu’s suppressed anger erupted like a volcano.”

Yan Lu turned, wanting to see firsthand how Lu Xuguo would react to her next words. “She actually left the teacher speechless. I’ll never forget what she said—‘If I don’t believe my brother, should I believe you instead?’”

For Yishu, teaching was not a sacred profession. At its core, it was a job like any other, even like sanitation work—work for pay, nothing inherently noble.

“So she has such a past?” Lu Xuguo was unsurprised but still shocked. In his own academic journey, he had witnessed classmates facing similar ordeals. It seemed an eternal, insoluble problem.

“Don’t you get it?” Yan Lu asked, displeased. “Yishu treats her brother as if he were her own son. I remember when we were in school, no matter how badly she was treated, she always bore it stoically.”

The time Yihui gave up on college was when Yan Lu, after despairing at life, found renewed hope and resolve. She could only search the past for clues, analyze, deduce, and guess the outcomes.

Lu Xuguo was lost, tangled in Yan Lu’s recollections and interpretations, and any conclusions he drew were likely even further from the truth.

Li Nanzhi noticed that Su Yihui had been upstairs for ages and hadn’t come down. Lu Xuguo and his group had left nearly half an hour ago—could something have happened? Yihui was always running into trouble, bumping into things, breaking bowls and ceramic spoons.

The more she dwelled on it, the more anxious she became. She wanted to check, but an endless stream of customers made even a second’s absence impossible.

Cheng Shuguang returned after delivering dozens of orders, drenched in sweat. The office building downtown was far enough, but the elevator was out of order. Twenty-five floors! With so many orders, his hands couldn’t carry them all, and no one nearby offered to help. When he called the customers, they said they were busy and couldn’t come down, and after all, delivery was his duty.

He tried to carry as many as possible, managing a maximum of eight bags in one hand. Thirty-three bags in total—would he have to make a third trip for a single extra bag? In the end, he divided them evenly into ten, ten, and eleven.

“Go upstairs and check on Yihui,” Li Nanzhi said, busy at the register, to Cheng Shuguang. “He’s been up there a long time, and I’m worried something happened.”

Cheng Shuguang’s eyes widened, ignoring the sweat dripping down his face, forging a path through the crowd.

The corridor’s oil stains gleamed under the lights. Cheng Shuguang called Yihui’s name, searching room by room. There were eight private rooms upstairs: two east, six west. When he reached the seventh, he found Yihui leaning against the wall, as if his soul had fled.

“What’s wrong, Xiao Hui?” Cheng Shuguang stepped quietly over, stroking his hair. “Nanzhi said you’ve been up here half an hour—we thought something happened.”

Yihui’s held-back tears burst forth, and he simply cried.

His tears, his sobs, tore Cheng Shuguang apart, wounding him deeply. Cheng Shuguang pulled Su Yihui into his arms. “If you’re hurt, tell me. If the sky falls, I’ll hold it up for you. If you don’t want to talk, just vent to me.”

Hearing Cheng Shuguang’s gentle words, Su Yihui’s tears collapsed. “You won’t leave me, will you?” He gazed at him through blurred eyes. “Will you?”

“Yes!” Cheng Shuguang held him tighter. “I will never leave you!”

A seed, uncertain if it will sprout,

Is watered with a hundredfold sincerity.

If it’s destined never to bear fruit,

I still wish it would bloom for a moment.

I don't want it to remain forever a seed,

Facing the threat of decay and erosion.

Even if it falls to the earth and turns to dust.

Su Yihui vanished for an entire evening, and after Cheng Shuguang went up, he too disappeared. Li Nanzhi abandoned her customers, deciding to investigate upstairs.

Her footsteps echoed through the quiet hallway like waves striking the shore. Cheng Shuguang sensed danger approaching. He pushed Yihui from his embrace. “Let’s go downstairs. After work, tell me all about it.” He raised his sleeve to wipe away the tracks of Yihui’s tears.

Having wiped one side, he was about to wipe the other when footsteps arrived. “What are you doing?” Li Nanzhi asked in suspicion.

Two grown men, standing together in a private room, surrounded by an atmosphere heavy with sorrow. Even gentle Li Nanzhi couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

“Xiao Hui accidentally spilled the customer’s food and was afraid of being scolded, so he’s hiding,” Cheng Shuguang quickly explained. “I’ve already talked to him—whatever needs to be deducted will be deducted.”

Li Nanzhi wasn’t concerned with that. Broken dishes and spilled food happened occasionally, but never had Yihui been so despondent.

“Is that so?” Cheng Shuguang had no reason to fabricate, and Li Nanzhi, trusting her boyfriend, said, “Then let’s go downstairs. There’s so much to do.”

“Yes, lots to do,” Cheng Shuguang echoed awkwardly, nudging Yihui. “Go help downstairs, don’t just stand here.”

Yihui nodded and left with his head down, not daring to look at Li Nanzhi.

Cheng Shuguang gave her a stiff smile.

Li Nanzhi watched Yihui’s retreating figure, then turned to Cheng Shuguang’s meaningful smile. A terrifying thought began to take root in her mind.