Every time Chen Zui got injured, it was very hard for it to heal, especially in summer.
There was no other reason—it was because she simply couldn’t sit still.
The doctor told her to move around as little as possible and preferably rest quietly, but as it happened, she just wasn’t the type to fit into those words “as little as possible” and “preferably.”
The more they forbade her from walking around, the more her backside felt like it had nails stuck in it; in short, she couldn’t stay attached to any sort of stool or chair.
As luck would have it, she ran into Han Ling. This was Han Ling’s first time in Qingzhou, and Chen Zui’s small place was long past being able to satisfy her curiosity.
Han Ling wanted to go out and play, and Chen Zui said she wanted to go too. After walking around downstairs for a bit, Han Ling suddenly took a fancy to visiting her cafe.
Today wasn’t a day off, and the level of busyness at “Have a Cup” was no better than a weekend. The only thing that made one feel somewhat fortunate was that Chen Zui hadn’t opened up an online takeout business.
But even so! That was still exhausting!
Serving customers across a takeout order versus serving customers face-to-face—the latter was simply not even comparable in how much worse it was.
An Qi had sharp eyes; she spotted them even while Chen Zui was still across the street, only the more she looked, the stranger it felt. Why was there a gorgeous, explosive royal-sister type following right beside their cool, handsome boss?
No service-industry drudge ever wished for one workstation pillar to turn into two workstation pillars.
An Qi was no exception.
“Chen Zui!” She called out the boss’s full name with complete righteousness—the boss had given permission!
Chen Zui was startled by her roar and raised her eyebrows to look at her: “Did you use up all the fire extinguishers in the shop?”
An Qi wilted a bit and looked over at the obvious red iron box by the wall: “No.” Weren’t they still there?
Chen Zui: “Oh, I just got blown by a fire when I walked in.”
An Qi: “……….”
A master of subtext had arrived.
“Alright, speak, what is wrong with you, milady?” Chen Zui motioned for Han Ling to sit down and pointed to the menu board for her to order by herself.
“You old cow eating tender grass, you’re older than me yet you call me ‘milady’ (nín).” An Qi chatted with her during a brief gap while operating the hand-shaker.
“Using ‘old cow eating tender grass’ in this context—I’m afraid your Chinese teacher is going to cry and faint in the restroom.”
“Aiya, never mind that,” An Qi was busy as hell and had no time to care whether her Chinese teacher was fainting or not; she felt like she was about to faint instead.
“Is the shop very busy?” Chen Zui asked a question she already knew the answer to.
The heat was almost enough to blow the ceiling of the shop off—could it not be busy?
Just as An Qi was about to speak, Han Ling finished looking at the coffee menu: “I want a cup of Norway Salt, Honey Kiss Baby, is this one delicious?”
An Qi’s words stuck right in her throat. Her worldview, perspective, and facial features were completely upended on her face, and her shock was beyond concealment.
Knowing that Han Ling’s urge to show off had acted up again, Chen Zui rolled her eyes: “Add three extra shots of espresso for her.”
“Got it, Madame Boss, please wait a moment.” An Qi accepted the order and retreated.
Han Ling slumped over the table, trembling with laughter, while Chen Zui gave her a sideways glance: “Are you just itching for trouble if you don’t act cheap for a single day?”
Sporting the face of a pure royal sister, yet pulling off the most punchable cheap antics.
“How come I haven’t seen your Doctor Jiang these past few days?” Han Ling had been living here for almost a whole week; leave alone seeing Jiang Feiwan, Chen Zui hadn’t even mentioned wanting to go look for her or make contact.
She was starting to regret it. On the day they ate barbecue, she should have taken advantage of the time Chen Zui went to the restroom to ask that person for her WeChat.
Not picking up on the nuance, Chen Zui replied normally: “You think everyone is like you, idle and carefree.”
“Then which hospital is your Doctor Jiang at? When you went for your follow-up check on your leg, why didn’t you go see your Doctor Jiang?” Han Ling chattered away, saying a whole bunch.
Chen Zui finally realized what was wrong with her words.
What did “your Doctor Jiang” mean?
Jiang Feiwan wasn’t some kind of object, and Chen Zui didn’t like being addressed that way, so she corrected her: “Doctor Jiang is Doctor Jiang, don’t say ‘yours’, ‘hers’, or ‘mine’, making it sound like we’re distributing some kind of property.”
“Tsk tsk.”
“An Qi, the ‘Norway Salt’ doesn’t need ice water, make it all extra espresso shots.”
“You’re so petty, be careful you won’t find a wife.” Han Ling pouted, propping up her cheek with a rather aggrieved look.
Imitating her, Chen Zui also propped up her cheek and said unconcernedly: “I don’t like women, and besides, I don’t have any plans to date.”
“Tsk.” Han Ling rolled her eyes.
Only a ghost would believe her.
The past couple of days in Qingzhou always made people feel stuffy and suffocated, as if something was brewing. The daytime temperature, shooting straight up to thirty-eight degrees, felt like it was going to steam-cook the entire city.
After planning for three days, the weekend finally arrived, and Wuchi Yun brought large and small bags of things over to Jiang Feiwan’s place.
“This here is fruit—watermelon, grapes, mangoes, mangosteens, and top-grade Feixiao lychees!” Wuchi Yun sorted out the items from one of the bags, followed immediately by the second: “Inside here are groceries—I bought sliced mutton, meatballs, vermicelli noodles……”
She was just like Doraemon; the bags she held in her hands were like a bottomless pit, big and small, covering half of the dining table.
The last bag was bulging and stuffed full. She patted it hard, looking extremely satisfied: “How can you have hot pot without cilantro?! I bought a huge bunch! More than enough!”
Having finally caught Jiang Feiwan when she had a day off, she was determined to have a good meal with her.
Looking at the table that was suddenly completely occupied, Jiang Feiwan was at a loss for what to do for a moment: “Today, which of us is playing the role of the pig?”
Wuchi Yun frowned: “What pig or no pig? Applied to a beauty, it doesn’t sound good.”
Helpless, Jiang Feiwan sorted the meat ingredients into the refrigerator. It was still early, and preparing the ingredients would take some time; she was afraid the meat would spoil if left outside in the open for too long.
“Alright, Jiang Xiaowwan, the one playing the pig today is neither me nor you, but this refrigerator.” Wuchi Yun put her hands on her hips and went to pull open the other door of the refrigerator.
Sure enough!
Just as it had looked when she went with Jiang Feiwan to pick out the refrigerator, it looked exactly the same inside the refrigerator right now! Not a single trace of it having been used!
Wuchi Yun placed her hands on her hips, her eyes disciplining Jiang Feiwan: “Did you! Or did you not! Eat properly at all?!”
Jiang Feiwan answered honestly: “I’ve never starved myself!”
“Crap.” Wuchi Yun lightly poked Jiang Feiwan’s shoulder with her index finger. “You better eat a lot more for me at noon today! Now that I’m back, I’m going to properly supervise you! Gain back those 6 jin of weight you lost!”
“Where was it even 6 jin.” Jiang Feiwan didn’t pay attention to her, only wanting to correct her on accuracy.
“5.8 jin, isn’t that 6 jin? Don’t try to quibble, me asking for 0.2 jin of interest isn’t excessive at all.”
………
The speed of cleaning up the ingredients together wasn’t slow. Jiang Feiwan couldn’t eat spicy food, so Wuchi Yun specially used a Mandarin duck hot pot, half clear broth and half exploding-spicy red oil.
For this hot pot meal, she had only gnawed on two corns and two eggs yesterday, so her appetite right now could probably accommodate half an ox without any exaggeration.
Jiang Feiwan went to pick up some vegetables that were mostly cooked in the hot pot, but Wuchi Yun acted as if she had eyes growing on the top of her head and immediately stopped her: “Go pick up some meat to eat!”
“What’s wrong, not even letting me eat vegetables now.” Jiang Feiwan picked them up anyway, placing them in her bowl to cool for a bit before eating: “It’s a combination of meat and vegetables, you see.”
“You’d better be.” Wuchi Yun scrunched up her nose. The exploding-spicy soup base was a bit too hot and spicy, so she grabbed the pre-prepared iced beer next to her and opened it. Fearing it would bloat her stomach, she only took a small sip.
After brewing for a good while, Wuchi Yun spoke: “So, that person, have you guys seen each other recently?”
“Which person?” Jiang Feiwan’s hand, which was adding ingredients into the pot, paused for a split second, and she asked back with an expressionless face.
“Why, Chen Zui of course!” Wuchi Yun grew anxious, wishing she could move her stool over and sit right next to her. “You said last time that you saw her at a nearby cafe! And you even added each other on WeChat—well, didn’t you chat?”
Jiang Feiwan wore a smile: “We’re not close, what’s there to chat about?”
“She didn’t look for you either?”
“Why would she look for me?”
Wuchi Yun let out an “aiya”, and the aroma of the meat in her bowl couldn’t pull her back anymore. After a moment, she leaned forward and whispered, “Can I add her?”
Jiang Feiwan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry: “Can you put away those little stray thoughts of yours? Even when eating meat you can’t rein in your imagination.”
“I’m serious!” Wuchi Yun put down her chopsticks, her expression very serious: “You know, the two of us only met in senior year, and it’s been almost ten years now. By the time you mentioned this person named Chen Zui to me, we had already known each other for six years! Six years! That time was only because you drank a bit of alcohol, weren’t quite clear-headed, and let it slip yourself; otherwise, I’m afraid I wouldn’t have been able to pry open the doors of your heart even to this day.”
When Wuchi Yun first heard the name Chen Zui, she wasn’t all that surprised, assuming she was some unforgettable white moonlight of Jiang Feiwan’s. After all, people who are drunk are fragile, and it’s normal to love reminiscing about past events.
What truly surprised her was the scar that Jiang Feiwan inadvertently exposed when she was drunk that time.
At the time, she was in the rising phase of her career, and her work pressure was so great that she could barely breathe, so she loved dragging Jiang Feiwan along to drink with her. Each time, she would only let Jiang Feiwan take a token sip while she herself always ended up dead drunk, but that time, the person who got drunk turned out to be Jiang Feiwan.
She and Jiang Feiwan had always been completely open with each other; Wuchi Yun talked about everything—work, pressure, family, herself. Jiang Feiwan also occasionally talked about everything—work, seeing a patient with a certain psychological illness today, eating at a wonderfully delicious restaurant—except that she rarely ever talked about herself and never mentioned her family.
The coffee table was neatly lined with empty beer cans that Jiang Feiwan had finished. Jiang Feiwan had a bit of obsessive-compulsive disorder; she always liked arranging things neatly, and even in a drunken state, her actions were an unconscious habit.
Jiang Feiwan sat on the floor, her head buried in the crook of her arm, covered by her lovely hair, muttering something in her mouth. When Wuchi Yun wanted to lean closer to listen, the sound disappeared. Thinking she was extremely drunk and just muttering to herself, she paid it no mind.
Later, Jiang Feiwan went to the restroom and didn’t come out for a long, long time. Worried, Wuchi Yun finally knocked on the door and went in to check on the situation.
Jiang Feiwan was sitting by the toilet bowl, glaring red blood soaking through her pajama pants, while she still clenched an eyebrow-shaping razor blade in her hand, her fingertips trembling uncontrollably.
Heaven knows how terrified Wuchi Yun was at that moment; her brain instantly cleared up, and she knelt right beside her, continuously asking where she was injured.
She didn’t know. She had never known, and had never imagined, that Jiang Feiwan would self-harm.
Wuchi Yun saw the blade cut; it was slashed onto her thigh. She didn’t know how heavy the strokes were; she only knew that Jiang Feiwan had bled for a very long time, and simple first-aid stopping of the blood simply didn’t work.
And then, she saw it: across both of Jiang Feiwan’s thighs, there were many horizontal and vertical scars crisscrossing—they had already healed, with the newly grown flesh slightly raised.
Jiang Feiwan seemed unable to feel any pain, lowering her head to stare blankly at the terrifying wounds.
The restroom space wasn’t large, and the sounds were trapped inside, making them clearly audible without any effort.
This time, Wuchi Yun heard clearly what Jiang Feiwan was saying in her mouth.
She said: “Chen Zui, when are you coming to save me.”