The pharmaceutical factory was located in Old Delhi. The streets were narrow, bustling with a chaotic mix of pedestrians and vehicles, and horns blared incessantly. It was their last hope, but Leah didn’t dare to expect too much.
The generic drug industry was notoriously murky; some factories didn’t even have production qualifications. If she returned empty-handed this time, her uncle really would be out of time.
Josh sat beside her, quietly reviewing the documents in his hand. Soon, the car pulled up in front of an unassuming building. The only signage at the entrance was a simple sheet metal plaque.
They were received by the technical director, a gray-haired Indrahn man who spoke with a thick accent. Leah requested to see the laboratory first. The old man hesitated for a moment before leading them inside.
The lab wasn’t large, but the equipment was surprisingly advanced. Leah inspected each instrument carefully and asked several questions about the production process. The old man’s answers were highly professional and backed by detailed data, leaving no room for ambiguity.
She flipped through the inspection reports in her hands, reviewing them page by page. The impurity control, stability data, and batch consistency were all much better than she had anticipated. The people of Indrah truly were top-tier when it came to generic drugs.
She had just breathed a sigh of relief when the old man’s attitude suddenly changed.
"The imitation process for the P Drug is extremely complex, and our production capacity is limited. I’m afraid we can’t supply it externally," the old man said, putting away the reports. His tone was polite but firm.
Leah’s heart sank.
"As long as you can supply the drug, you can name your price," Leah said.
"It’s not about the money," the old man interrupted. "This drug is only supplied to the people of Indrah."
The atmosphere froze.
Josh glanced down at his phone, then turned and walked out of the laboratory. Leah had no idea what he was doing, so she could only continue negotiating with the old man. He remained gentle in his demeanor but refused to yield a single inch.
About ten minutes later, Josh pushed the door open and returned.
Just then, the old man received a phone call. He walked over to the corner to answer it. His tone shifted from confusion to sheer astonishment, and he finally ended up nodding repeatedly. When he hung up and walked back over, his attitude had done a complete one-eighty.
"Miss Sinclair, we’ve just been notified that our new investor has agreed to provide you with the P Drug unconditionally. All fees are waived, and your production will be prioritized."
Leah was stunned. "This was the new investor’s decision?" she asked. "Who are they? I’d like to thank them in person."
The old man chuckled. "We aren’t sure of their exact identity either. We only know it’s a family of merchants."
Josh gently reminded her in a low voice, "Don’t ask anymore. Let’s just take the medicine and go back to save your uncle."
By the time they obtained the samples and the supply agreement and walked out of the pharmaceutical factory, the sun was already beating down fiercely. Leah looked down, flipping through the stack of documents in her hands, still finding it somewhat hard to believe.
Her uncle was going to be saved.
Josh raised his wrist to check his watch. "We still have time. We can go see that cathedral from yesterday."
Zoe grinned and raised a hand. "You two, my local guide services conclude here. Remember to leave a five-star review!"
Leah thanked her and handed over a two-thousand-dollar tip.
Zoe stuck her tongue out playfully. "Thank you, boss lady!"
As soon as Leah turned around, Zoe shot Josh a "good luck" gesture—only to be met with an icy glare in return.
***
The cathedral was Rajpur’s oldest stupa. The locals believed that walking around it in prayer could secure peace and health for severely ill relatives. Leah stepped forward to enter, but just as she reached the doorway, a monk stopped her.
The monk spoke in Indrahn, of which Leah couldn’t understand a single word.
Josh translated for her in a low voice, "He says your clothes don’t adhere to their dress code. You can’t enter the stupa to pray."
"What do we do then?" she asked.
"There are plenty of sari vendors over there," he said, pointing toward the roadside. "Just buy one and change into it."
The two of them walked over. Josh stopped in front of a pile of colorful saris, picked out a red one, and held it up against Leah’s shoulders to measure it. "This one."
The stall owner helped her adjust the pleats and said something in Indrahn with a smile.
Josh casually translated from the side, "She says you look like an Indrahn maiden."
Leah looked up, a soft smile playing on her lips.
The cathedral symbolized supreme merit. Legend had it that a single sincere visit was equivalent to three lifetimes of cultivation. The stupa’s structure was densely carved with Buddhist reliefs, hiding various classic tales within. Josh would occasionally stop to explain them to her.
Leah listened quietly. Whenever they reached a Buddha statue, she would pause, press her palms together, and pray devoutly.
She silently prayed, "Buddhas of all directions, please bless my uncle with peace and health, and help him overcome this ordeal."
Standing nearby, Josh took out his phone and quietly snapped a few photos. After they descended from the cathedral’s stupa, he sent the photos to her. "Keep them as a memento."
Leah opened the images. Amidst a sea of thousands, she stood with her hands clasped together, enveloped in curling incense smoke, her sari a deep, dark red. She looked so unfamiliar, yet so solemn. She had never realized she possessed such a side to herself.
"Cheer up. Smile a little," Josh said gently.
"I’m here to seek medicine," Leah replied, her voice dropping lower. "I don’t have the right to be happy."
"Life is inherently a mix of misfortune and blessings," Josh said, looking at her. "You must always try to find joy amidst the bitterness."
Leaving the cathedral, they came across an adjacent food street. It was incredibly crowded, with people packed tightly together. Josh walked half a step ahead of her, occasionally glancing back to make sure she was still following.
Leah stopped in front of a street food stall. "Josh, I want to try this. I’ve seen it in a movie before."
Josh took one look, and without asking any further questions, he pulled out some money and bought a portion. They were golden, deep-fried hollow spheres arranged neatly on an iron tray and drizzled with sauce.
Leah took a bite. The sauce burst in her mouth—sweet and sour, with a hint of spiciness.
"Is it good?" he asked.
"Mhm," she nodded. "Do you want to try one?"
Leah ate one herself, then raised her hand to offer him another.
He leaned in slightly. Leah froze for a split second before raising her hand to feed it to him. He parted his lips slightly and took it into his mouth. His eyelashes were thick, and his nose was tall and straight. When he was quiet, he exuded a gentle, outstanding aura.
Watching him, Leah suddenly found her throat feeling a bit dry.
He straightened up and gave his verdict. "Not bad."
"I saw that Indrahn movie," Leah said, lowering her head to shift her attention back to the snack. "The father in it would use this street food to reward his daughters." She paused. "The fried pastry puffs my dad used to make were really delicious, too."
When she was little, she would always lean against the stove, watching her mother knead dough and her father stand in front of the oil pan, deep-frying pastries. The aroma would fill the entire shop. She had thought she would always be able to remember exactly what her parents looked like for the rest of her life. But the older she got, the blurrier her memories became. Many of the details had long since faded from clarity.
They said that true death was when someone was no longer remembered.
Leah’s chest suddenly tightened with a suffocating heaviness. A bitter lump lodged itself in her throat, unable to go up or down. Clutching the foreign street food in her hand, she stood on a street crowded with strangers, her eyes gradually turning red.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back desperately, refusing to let them fall.
Josh reached out and gently tugged down the sari draped over her head, obscuring most of her face. Then, he leaned in close and whispered into her ear, "Cry if you want to. No one will see."
As soon as the words left his mouth, a single tear—finally unable to be held back—slipped free and shattered by her feet. She didn’t dare to cry out loud. She only let out quiet, muffled sobs, her shoulders trembling slightly.
He stood right in front of her, so close that if she just leaned forward a single inch, she would be resting against his chest. Yet, she continued to hold herself up entirely on her own.
After quite a while, her breathing gradually steadied.
Josh spoke up, asking, "There’s another stall up ahead. Do you want to try it?" He acted as if nothing had just happened.
"Mhm." Leah sniffled and followed after him.