Song Kening returned to the rented room. After putting away everything in her canvas bag, she carried the chicken into the kitchen.
She soaked the chicken pieces in starch water to draw out the blood, then rinsed them clean and put them into a pot. She added water, smashed a piece of ginger and tossed it in, then added a few red dates and goji berries.
She set the induction cooker to soup mode.
The water in the pot slowly heated up, and a thin layer of grayish foam floated to the surface.
She skimmed it off with a spoon, covered the pot, and let it simmer slowly.
While the soup cooked, she washed some rice and started the rice cooker.
She put in three cups of rice, thought about it, then added another cup.
Lu Zhiyu was doing physical labor now. His appetite would definitely be even bigger than before.
She plugged in the rice cooker and pressed the cook button.
The kitchen gradually became hotter.
Thin streams of white steam escaped from beneath the soup pot’s lid, carrying the aroma of chicken and red dates.
The kitchen tiles became damp from the heat, and a thin layer of sweat appeared on Song Kening’s forehead.
She wiped it away with her sleeve and went outside to sit at the folding table.
She took out her phone and checked the time.
It was 10:30 a.m.
After the soup had simmered for an hour, she took the chicken pieces out and placed them on a plate.
Then she took some celery from the refrigerator.
She had bought the celery yesterday and originally planned to stir-fry it with dried tofu, but she hadn’t been willing to spend the money on the tofu.
Today, she could cook it with the chicken instead.
She heated the wok, scooped in a spoonful of lard, and watched the white fat melt in the hot pan.
She tossed in minced garlic and let it sizzle before adding the celery.
She stir-fried it over high heat for a few seconds, then added the shredded chicken and tossed everything together.
A large plate of celery stir-fried with chicken was ready.
The vegetable dish was still water spinach.
There was nothing she could do about that—the supermarket was having another special sale on water spinach that morning.
Once everything was ready, she brought the dishes to the folding table and served two bowls of rice.
It was already 12:30.
Lu Zhiyu still hadn’t returned.
Song Kening checked her phone and sent him a WeChat message:
Are you coming back? Lunch is ready.
A minute later, her phone finally vibrated.
There’s a truck that needs to leave urgently. I’m helping finish loading it. Eat first and don’t wait for me.
Song Kening frowned at the message.
If the truck was leaving urgently, when would they finish loading?
Would he even have time to come back for lunch?
It took about fifteen minutes to walk from the logistics park to their rental room, and another fifteen minutes to return.
That was half an hour just for the trip.
After thinking about it, Song Kening went downstairs to the grocery store and bought an insulated food container and a 2-liter tumbler.
When she returned, she washed the food container thoroughly and rinsed it once with boiling water.
She packed the rice into the bottom compartment and pressed it down firmly.
Then she placed the celery and chicken on top of the rice and drizzled some of the sauce over it.
She added a layer of water spinach, then another layer for the soup, before closing the lid.
She boiled a kettle of water, added several jasmine flowers to the tumbler, and poured in the boiling water before sealing it.
The jasmine flowers slowly opened in the hot water.
Their petals gradually changed from pale yellow to translucent, and their fragrance drifted through the air.
She carried the lunch box and tumbler in one hand and the shoebox in the other.
Both hands were full, so there was no way she could hold an umbrella.
Forget it.
She’d just let herself get some sun.
It was only fifteen minutes.
She stepped outside.
The midday sun was blazing overhead.
The concrete road in the alley was scorching hot, and she could feel the heat even through the soles of her canvas shoes.
After leaving the alley, she crossed the road and followed the navigation toward the logistics park.
She had never walked this route before, but the map showed it wasn’t far.
Just walk straight to the end and turn left.
After about ten minutes, a row of gray three-story buildings appeared ahead.
Several trucks were parked outside.
A sign above the entrance read:
Qiang Ji Fruit Supply Chain Co., Ltd.
Only a large iron gate stood open.
Inside was a huge loading platform.
This was where Lu Zhiyu was working.
Song Kening walked inside.
There was no security guard, probably because there wasn’t much here worth stealing.
She saw a row of loading platforms numbered 1 through 16.
Most of them were empty.
Only Platform 1 at the very end had a 4.2-meter truck parked there.
The truck’s cargo door was wide open, and someone was moving goods inside.
She walked over.
As she got closer, she finally saw him clearly.
Lu Zhiyu was standing inside the truck, arranging baskets of pineapples neatly.
His back was already completely soaked with sweat.
His gray T-shirt clung to his body, clearly outlining his shoulder blades beneath the fabric.
His wet hair stuck to his forehead, and sweat dripped from his face down past his chin.
He lifted another basket of pineapples.
The muscles in his arms tightened, veins running from the back of his hands down his forearms.
He raised the basket, placed it on the upper layer, pushed it into position, released it, then bent down for the next one.
A worker driving an electric forklift brought another pallet of pineapples out from the cold storage area.
“Xiao Lu, make it thirty baskets per pallet at most.”
Lu Zhiyu nodded without saying anything.
He cut through the black straps around the last pallet and continued loading.
Song Kening stood beneath the platform without saying a word.
She watched him carry one basket after another.
Someone who had never done manual labor before was obviously still getting used to it.
The other workers bent their knees and used their legs to lift the cargo.
Lu Zhiyu was using his waist.
If he kept lifting that way, his lower back wouldn’t hold up for long.
He probably noticed it himself.
Every so often, he stopped, straightened his back, wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, then changed his posture and continued.
Finally, the last basket was placed inside.
The truck driver climbed into the cargo compartment and checked everything.
After saying something to Lu Zhiyu, he jumped down, closed the cargo door, and climbed into the driver’s seat.
The truck started up and slowly drove away from the loading platform.
Lu Zhiyu remained standing there, both hands resting on his knees as he gasped for breath.
Sweat dripped from his forehead onto the ground, leaving dark spots.
He raised his head.
Then he saw Song Kening.
She was standing beneath the platform with both hands full.
Her hair had become slightly messy from the sun, loose strands sticking to her cheeks, which had turned red from the heat.
Lu Zhiyu straightened and jumped down from the platform.
“Why did you come here?”
His brows furrowed, and his voice was heavier than usual.
“There are trucks coming in and out. It’s dangerous.”
Song Kening lifted the things in her hands.
“I walked along the sidewalk. I’ll be fine.”
“I brought you lunch.”
Lu Zhiyu looked at the insulated lunch box, tumbler, and shoebox in her hands.
Then he looked at her sun-reddened face.
His brows furrowed even more.
“Didn’t I tell you to eat first?”
Song Kening looked around.
Beside Platform 1 was a simple metal shelter.
Two large industrial fans were running inside, with a row of long tables and benches.
Obviously, this was where the workers rested.
She pointed toward it with her chin.
“Eat first.”
Lu Zhiyu glanced at her but didn’t say anything.
He turned and walked over.
Song Kening opened the lunch box.
Rice, celery stir-fried with chicken, water spinach, and chicken soup were neatly arranged on the table.
“Did you eat?”
Lu Zhiyu asked.
“Not yet.”
“Then eat with me.”
Song Kening didn’t refuse.
She took another pair of chopsticks from the bag.
She moved half the rice from the lunch box onto the lid, added some vegetables and chicken, and handed it to him.
The two of them sat on the benches.
Above them was the corrugated metal roof, with sunlight filtering through the gaps and casting strips of light across the floor.
The loading platform was unusually quiet.
Most of the workers had gone out for lunch.
Lu Zhiyu began eating quickly.
He shoveled large mouthfuls of rice into his mouth without stopping.
His cheeks puffed out as he chewed before swallowing and immediately taking another bite.
Song Kening watched him eat.
She picked two pieces of chicken from her portion and placed them in his bowl.
“Eat yours.”
Lu Zhiyu picked the chicken up and put it back in her bowl.
“I cooked a whole chicken. There’s plenty left at home. We’ll eat it tonight.”
Song Kening put the chicken back into his bowl.
“You’re doing physical labor now. Where are you supposed to get the strength if you don’t eat meat?”
Lu Zhiyu’s chopsticks paused.
This time, he didn’t refuse.
Song Kening unscrewed the lid of the tumbler, poured him a cup of jasmine tea, and handed it over.
Lu Zhiyu took it and drank.
The fragrance of jasmine spread through his mouth.
It was warm, but not hot enough to burn.
He lowered his head and looked at the cup.
“You bought jasmine flowers for this?”
“Yeah. I bought them from the old man on the pedestrian bridge this morning.”
“They were one yuan a bunch. I picked a few flowers to make tea, and hung the rest by the window.”
“The whole room smells nice now. One yuan is cheaper than air freshener.”
Her eyes sparkled as she said it, a hint of pride in her voice.
Lu Zhiyu took another sip but said nothing.
After they finished eating, Song Kening handed him the shoebox.
“Try these shoes. They’ll be more convenient for moving cargo.”
Lu Zhiyu took the box and opened it.
Inside was a pair of simple black mesh sneakers.
The soles were thick, with deep grooves for traction.
Song Kening stood up and pointed at his feet.
“Try them. If they don’t fit, I’ll exchange them.”
Lu Zhiyu looked down at the leather shoes he was wearing.
They were handmade in Italy, with finely finished leather.
But they were still dress shoes.
After standing on the loading platform all morning, the soles of his feet really did hurt.
He sat down, took off the leather shoes, and slipped his feet into the sneakers.
They fit perfectly.
He stood up and walked a few steps.
They were soft and springy beneath his feet.
The mesh upper was breathable, and he could even feel the breeze around his toes.
“How are they?” Song Kening looked up at him.
“Perfect fit.”
Song Kening smiled.
“Of course. I checked the size of your leather shoes.”
Lu Zhiyu lowered his eyes and looked at her sun-reddened face.
There was still a thin layer of sweat on her forehead, and loose strands of hair clung to her temples.
He opened his mouth, just about to say something.
“Xiao Lu, where are the other workers?”
A voice suddenly came from behind them.