Ning Xi’s phone, which she had casually left on the kitchen counter playing a novel aloud, chimed once.
She lifted her eyelids, poured the blanched pork ribs into the rice cooker, and added the chopped carrots and corn as well.
Ning Xi tore off two sheets of tissue, dried her hands, and only then picked up her phone.
She didn’t turn off the novel playing aloud.
The house was too quiet—she needed some sound.
Ning Xi tapped on He Kezhou’s profile picture.
Z: [What do you need me to bring?]
Ning Xi lowered her head and typed.
Xixi Milk Puff: [Nothing, just asking when you get off work?]
She had time right now, so she took the opportunity to scroll through the previous chat history between the original owner and He Kezhou.
Most of it was asking for money, asking him to bring food, drinks, and other things.
There were also many check-in messages in between.
He Kezhou’s replies were like those of a customer service bot.
Ning Xi didn’t continue scrolling further up.
The message she sent this time was replied to quickly by He Kezhou.
Z: [The shop is busy today. I get off at 21:00.]
Ning Xi sent an OK sticker and didn’t bother him while he was working.
The moment she put down her phone, He Kezhou transferred 1,000 yuan to her.
Ning Xi didn’t hesitate to tap “return.”
There were still almost ten days before payday, and He Kezhou didn’t have any money on him either.
This money was probably borrowed from someone else.
He was eating plain white noodles every meal—why not keep the money to improve his own life?
What a big fool.
Ning Xi’s fingertips typed and deleted.
No matter what she sent, it felt hollow.
After all, every time she contacted him, most of the time it was to ask for money or things.
Ning Xi really, really wanted to ease the relationship between herself and He Kezhou. She was being crushed by the guilt in her heart.
It was around seven o’clock now. He Kezhou would get off work and ride his electric bike back from the shop—a thirty-minute ride.
The pork rib soup was specially made for He Kezhou.
He Kezhou hadn’t touched any meat in a long time.
She planned to also make stir-fried shrimp with broccoli, braised chicken drumsticks with mushrooms, steam a bowl of eggs, and stir-fry a plate of cabbage.
He Kezhou could be home before ten, so she could start cooking at nine.
After two hours, once the soup was done, she’d ladle it into a bowl and cook the rice.
If she told He Kezhou in advance that she was cooking at home and waiting for him to eat together, she guessed he’d eat noodles at the shop before coming back.
Ning Xi wrapped the prepared ingredients in plastic wrap, washed an apple for herself to munch on, then grabbed her phone and turned off the kitchen light before heading out.
She usually just ate an apple for dinner, but she couldn’t do that now. She needed nutrition, and she needed to nourish this body that was deficient in qi and blood.
Ning Xi didn’t idle on the sofa—she used her phone to search for part-time jobs nearby.
She spotted that the parcel station in the neighborhood was hiring. One hundred twenty yuan a day, paid daily.
Without a second thought, Ning Xi tapped the phone number left in the listing and called.
The call lasted less than thirty seconds.
She explained her purpose, and the station owner told her to come at 8:30 tomorrow morning. The requirement was that she’d have to work a trial half-day first; if the owner thought she was good, she’d work the full day and get a full day’s pay. If the owner wasn’t satisfied, she’d get a free lunch and be sent off.
Ning Xi clutched her phone and took a big bite of her apple, her cheeks puffing out.
There might be some income tomorrow—just thinking about it made her lips curl up involuntarily.
The part-time job was a stopgap measure. Before finding a new job, she couldn’t just sit at home waiting.
It didn’t matter if the pay was low—at least she could rely on her own labor to cover her daily food and board.
She’d spent a long time browsing job apps today.
The more she scrolled, the colder her heart grew.
The original owner was a graduating student from Xincheng Normal College, majoring in preschool education.
The school was an ordinary second-tier university.
Her only work experience was an internship from last year’s autumn campus recruitment, where she worked as a lead teacher for one semester at a public kindergarten in Xincheng.
Before Ning Xi transmigrated into the book, she was a senior at one of the top three art universities in the country, in the dance school.
In her senior year, she didn’t choose to intern outside. Instead, she found a part-time job at a dance studio near campus teaching adult Chinese classical dance, working while preparing for graduate school.
She had already tested this body’s flexibility—it could only reach about fifty to sixty percent of her original body’s.
There was no shortcut other than practice.
Ning Xi loved dancing; there was no way she’d give it up.
She would pick dance back up. With a skill in hand, she wouldn’t have to worry about going hungry.
She and the original owner were both 21, and even shared the same birthday.
Ning Xi cheered herself on—there was nothing to be discouraged about. Heaven never seals off all paths.
The original owner had a bit of skill in everything—music, chess, calligraphy, painting, singing, and dancing—but only a bit, not mastery.
Still, that already put her ahead of many ordinary people.
With the original owner’s education and work experience, in a new first-tier city like Xincheng, finding a job with weekends off and a salary over six thousand would only be possible at a private kindergarten.
In her memories, the original owner wiped kids’ butts, dealt with children biting other kids in class, and stayed up late after work on the phone with parents, negotiating and apologizing.
Just thinking about it gave Ning Xi a headache.
Kindergarten work was placed on her backup list.
If it truly came to having no other choice, she’d go for the sake of survival.
Work was just a means to make a living.
Ning Xi remembered that the bedsheets and pillowcases she’d washed still hadn’t been hung out to dry.
She tossed the apple core away and went to her room.
Ning Xi wanted to smooth the bedsheet flat, but was afraid it would fall on the floor. She hugged the sheet, stuffed it into the drying rack, and fussed over it for quite a while.
The rack rose up, and she let out a breath.
Finally done.
She stood on the balcony for a while, letting the wind blow over her.
All around, lights were bright, and the air was thick with the smell of pork rib soup.
In that moment, Ning Xi’s heart settled into a strange calm.
She hummed a little tune and went to the kitchen to stir-fry some dishes.
It was already nine o’clock. He Kezhou was off work.
Xiaomeng Auto Repair.
Zhou Zhishui hugged the big watermelon he’d just bought from the fruit shop, his forehead slick with sweat.
Today’s workload had been so heavy that his arms ached just from holding the watermelon.
He was exhausted—so tired his mind felt numb.
But somehow, his Zhen-ge and Zhou-ge seemed to have no idea what tired even meant.
Zhou Zhishui shouted at He Kezhou, who had just finished a cold shower and was already on his electric scooter, ready to head home: “Zhou-ge, let me cut you half a watermelon to take back. I had the shop owner ice it specially.”
“Where’s my Zhen-ge?”
He Kezhou squeezed the brake on his scooter, declined the watermelon, and told Zhou Zhishui, “He’s in the shower.”
When he came out after his shower, Meng Yizhen was waiting outside with his clothes in hand.
He Kezhou told Meng Yizhen that when he got paid this month, he’d move out with Ning Xi, and he’d also pay back the two months of rent he owed Meng Yizhen.
Meng Yizhen told him not to overthink it—he lived at the auto shop purely for work convenience, not to avoid Ning Xi.
He knew He Kezhou wouldn’t believe that.
Given He Kezhou’s current situation, it really was tough.