When things were mostly settled, Gong Que hurried over. Accustomed to seeing Ming Can bowed down under the weight of her debts, Gong Que simply sighed with helplessness this time, quietly pulling her to the infirmary to treat her injuries.
“Lao Gong, if there is no other more suitable candidate for the caregiver part-time job, could you let me continue doing it?”
Hearing this, Gong Que paused her hand holding the cotton swab, raised her eyes, and looked at her for a few seconds. With an even tone, she asked, “Didn’t you say you had other things to busy yourself with?”
Ming Can pressed her lips together and didn’t speak.
Gong Que didn’t shift her gaze, staring right into Ming Can’s eyes. After a moment, she asked, “Is it because of that fifty thousand yuan?”
Ming Can shook her head, then stopped halfway, unsure whether she should nod or shake it.
Yes, but not entirely.
Money was important, of course. She wasn’t someone detached from the realities of life; fifty thousand yuan was an astronomical figure to her right now. It could pay off a portion of her debts and give her a few months to breathe. However, if she stayed solely for the money, she would truly be entirely devoid of human warmth.
That woman was trapped in a mire. When Ming Can was at her lowest and the whole world was avoiding her, even a lowly caregiver like herself, Su Zhi had still been willing to stand up for others in the face of such a situation, radiating the inherent goodness of her character within the tiny sliver of ability she had left.
Such kindness felt like it demanded some form of payback, but Ming Can didn’t know how to explain this to Gong Que.
Fortunately, the other woman understood her hesitation.
“Do whatever you want.” Gong Que didn’t press her further, though she subconsciously applied a bit more force when pressing the iodine-soaked cotton swab against the corner of Ming Can’s mouth.
Ming Can hissed in pain, instinctively flinching backward.
“Now you know it hurts?” Gong Que’s tone was light, though her hand stopped applying heavy pressure. “Weren’t you standing up nice and straight when you called the police just now?”
Ming Can offered a sheepish laugh, but halfway through, she tugged at the wound on the corner of her mouth and winced, pulling her smile right back in.
Seeing her like this, Gong Que sighed, threw the used cotton swab into the trash can, and picked up a fresh one. Her movements were much gentler than before: “Since you are continuing the caregiver part-time job, you still have to take responsibility for the patient. You can’t slack off or be negligent just because she advanced your salary.”
“Got it.” Ming Can said in a spoiled, cutesy voice.
Gong Que threw away the last cotton swab, tidied up the items on the table, and stood up: “Your wound is treated. Don’t let it touch water for the next few days, and keep your diet light.”
Ming Can let out an “oh” and stood up alongside her. The two walked out of the infirmary one after the other, parting ways at the corner of the hallway. Gong Que’s steps headed toward the direction of the intensive care unit, where patients needed her more urgently, while Ming Can stood frozen in place for two seconds before turning to walk toward the ward.
Hearing the door push open, the woman on the hospital bed turned her head slightly. Sunlight squeezed through the gaps in the curtains, landing on her thin profile and casting a layer of golden light over her icy exterior.
“What are you here for?” Her voice was as indifferent as ever.
Ming Can wore a sweet-as-honey smile carrying a hint of mischievousness: “I’m here to return the remaining forty-five thousand yuan to you, and by the way, renew our contract.”
Su Zhi shifted her gaze away from Ming Can’s face and impatiently spat out three words: “Not needed.”
“It is needed.” Ming Can took a few steps toward the bed, smiling. “I just calculated: a normal caregiver costs two hundred a day. I am pretty and sweet-mouthed, so let’s triple it to six hundred a day. It would take a whole week just to earn five thousand. You know as well as I do that my pockets are cleaner than my face right now, and I can’t cough up the cash. The only way is to renew the contract. See if you want to renew for a week or three months, and personally, I feel three months is a better deal. Look!”
As she spoke, she began counting and gesturing on her fingers: “For the same price, if you hire another caregiver, they might not be as young, pretty, or patient as me. Even if they are just as young and pretty, you will still have to waste time adjusting to them. Toss and turn as you might, you are better off keeping me as your ready-made option. First, you don’t have to spend energy screening people; second, you don’t have to spend time adjusting. As for the price, sure, it is a bit high, but my service is great too! After getting along these past few days, you should be able to appreciate it.”
“Enough!” Su Zhi interrupted her, her delicate brows furrowing, the hand gripping the bedsheets trembling slightly out of anger. “I said I don’t need it. Why on earth can’t you understand!”
Ming Can stood there, watching, observing, and then crept step by step closer, squatting down right in front of the hospital bed: “Elder sister.”
She reached out a little paw and timidly tugged at the corner of the blanket covering Su Zhi: “Please, won’t you?”
Her voice was sweet and soft like a little kitten’s, and her dark eyes rolled around, carrying a hint of careful ingratiation mixed with a thick-skinned, playful stubbornness.
Su Zhi’s brow twitched. Lowering her gaze, she locked eyes with a pair of sparkling, bright eyes.
Ming Can tilted her head up, looking at her with eager anticipation. The wound at the corner of her mouth still had iodine on it, yet she didn’t seem to care at all, baring her little canine teeth and smiling lightheartedly. Her dimples followed, shallowly rippling like they were brimming with honey.
A certain corner of Su Zhi’s heart seemed to be lightly poked by something, very gently, and the fingertips gripping the bedsheets involuntarily relaxed a little, though her voice remained stiff:
“Let go!”
“Nope, no way.” Ming Can bit her lip and shook her head, her voice even more spoiled than before.
For a moment, Su Zhi had no idea what to do with her. She stared with a threatening gaze for a few seconds, but the other person kept a smiling face the whole time. Unable to take it anymore, Su Zhi gritted her teeth and spat out two words: “Scoundrel!”
“A scoundrel, then! Anyway, I have nowhere else to go right now. Sister, you are so kind, surely you wouldn’t have the heart to push me out and let those debt collectors beat me half to death, right?”
“You brought this on yourself, what does it have to do with me?” On the hospital bed, Su Zhi closed her eyes, refusing to look at her, a hint of compromise creeping into her exhausted voice. After resting quietly for a good while, she spoke again: “Three months. Your salary starts from right now. Send me your email later, and I will draft the contract and send it to you.”
Ming Can was momentarily stunned, her apricot-shaped eyes blinking rapidly, taking a few seconds to process the words: “Sister, you agreed?”
Su Zhi looked like she was barely holding on at this point, but she still lifted her eyelids to glance at the other woman, looking as though she might change her mind the next second.
“That’s wonderful!” Not giving the other person any chance to renege, Ming Can quickly pulled out her phone and brought up her QR code: “Sister, let’s add each other on WeChat! I will send you my email in a second!”
Su Zhi: .
She truly had zero energy left.
Ming Can held up her phone and waited for two seconds. Seeing that the other person was just staring at the QR code on the screen without moving, she sheepishly withdrew her hand: “Uhm, should I scan you instead?”
Su Zhi closed her eyes and squeezed a few words through her teeth: “The phone is by the pillow.”
Ming Can let out an “oh” and carefully leaned over, moving as gently as if she were defusing a bomb. She found a black phone beside the pillow, pinched it between two fingers, and turned to hand it right to Su Zhi.
Su Zhi took it, swiped a few times, and brought up her own QR code.
Beep. Friend added successfully.
Clutching her phone, Ming Can looked at the dark gray profile picture. The nickname was simply a single letter: “S.” She tapped on the nickname to edit the contact note, and earnestly typed out three words: Sister Su.
After typing it, she felt it was a bit too cheesy, so she deleted it and changed it to Su Zhi, which felt a bit too stiff, so she deleted that too. Finally, after debating back and forth, she settled on Big Boss Su. Satisfied, she bit her lip and smiled, slipping the phone into her pocket.
When she looked back up, she found Su Zhi watching her with an indifferent gaze, wondering what the other woman was thinking.
Feeling a bit guilty, Ming Can touched her own face: “Hehe, didn’t I say I am very pretty?”
Too lazy to deal with her, Su Zhi put the phone away to the side, closed her eyes, and went to sleep.
Ming Can received the agreement the next morning. On her way out to buy breakfast, Su Zhi had asked her for her email address, and within a few minutes, an electronic agreement landed in her inbox.
Ming Can stood at the entrance of the breakfast shop, staring at her phone screen and remaining motionless for a long time.
The agreement was written with extreme formality, featuring clear clauses and distinct responsibilities and rights. At first glance, it was entirely written in the tone of Party A making demands of Party B. However, the final few clauses left plenty of breathing room for Party B, especially the very last one.
Party A must ensure the personal safety of Party B during normal working hours. In the event of special circumstances, compensation will be paid at ten times the rate for work-related injuries. Furthermore, Party B has the right to terminate the contract at any time without paying any liquidated damages. If Party A unfortunately passes away within the three-month term, the contract will automatically terminate.
Ming Can read “ten times the work-related injury compensation” and “unfortunately passes away” over and over again, her thumb absentmindedly rubbing back and forth across the screen.
“Miss, your soy milk is ready.”
The breakfast shop owner handed her the packaged soy milk and soup dumplings.
“Thank you, Auntie!” Ming Can quickly took the bag, paid the bill, tucked her phone away, and turned to walk toward the hospital.
The early morning breeze carried a hint of summer’s heat. The morning sun filtered down through the gaps in the leaves, dancing on her shoulders. The freshly steamed soup dumplings in the plastic bag were very hot, their warmth transferring through the bag onto her fingers, solid and real.
Ming Can lowered her gaze and took a peek, remembering how, back in the hospital ward that day when Su Zhi’s illness flared up, she had instinctively shied away out of fear. In the contract terms right now, the other woman was using cold, legal text to grant her the most sincere guarantee.
While the contract took effect, she also began calculating her own life, writing a script in advance for Party B’s eventual departure, handing the other person a reasonable, thorough, and morally unencumbered escape route.
Whether it was from the steam of the soup dumplings or something else, Ming Can’s eyes suddenly felt hot and sore. She gently sniffed, quickened her pace, and walked toward the hospital ward.
On the hospital bed, Su Zhi lay on her side, her body curled slightly like a hedgehog pulling in all its quills. Her breathing was light and shallow, and her chest barely moved. Only the fingers hanging by the pillow occasionally twitched unconsciously, proving that she was still a living being.
That hand held a phone, its black body and half-screen glowing, casting a faint light on her pale fingertips like embers about to go out.
Ming Can stepped a bit closer and saw a line of text brightly lit on the screen: The vegetable processing plant held a press conference regarding the clarification and explanation of the layoff incident by the Vice President of the Research and Development Department.