CHAPTER 14

At nearly 7 p.m., Ha Yue closed up her store as usual, locked the door, and walked to the restaurant where she had arranged to meet Suo Jing for dinner.

Earlier that afternoon, she had called Zhao Chunni to let her know she would be sorting inventory at the store that evening and told her and Aunt Siqin not to wait for her for dinner.

After Zhao Chunni’s emotional outburst on Tuesday, Ha Yue had immediately taken her mother to Suicheng City Hospital for an examination. The results were less than ideal. The MRI revealed extensive atrophy throughout her brain, with particularly severe atrophy in the temporal lobe and hippocampus.

This was enough to explain why she had recently been experiencing frequent memory loss.

The local doctors had no treatment recommendations for a patient with such results—only advice on care. Keeping dangerous objects away from the patient was essential, as was ensuring that the patient’s meals were nutritious.

When the doctor learned that Ha Yue hadn’t hired a caregiver for her mother, they specifically reminded her: as the condition progressed, the patient would eventually require 24-hour supervision. It would be too much for her to handle alone, and she should prioritize moving the patient to a specialized care facility.

However, Suicheng had no nursing homes specifically for Alzheimer’s patients. Even if such facilities existed, it would be difficult to admit patients with aggressive tendencies.

She was advised to closely monitor Zhao Chunni’s emotional fluctuations and do her best to soothe her.

Recently, a new lottery shop had opened on Xing’an Street. From morning till night, it was always filled with idle middle-aged men, some gathered in groups, others sitting alone. Without exception, they all squinted at the walls, studying past winning number charts.

Not everyone in this world can afford a worry-free life, but anyone can afford a two-yuan lottery ticket.

A lottery represents a glimmering stroke of luck, a chance to turn one’s life around—a fairytale fabricated by society for the poor.

As Ha Yue passed by the lottery shop, she slowed her pace. She envied the customers inside. Back in Jicheng, she, too, had been obsessed with the lottery, never missing a draw. On her way to work, she’d buy five random picks.

Family, wealth, a partner—she could live without any of those. As long as she carried a lottery ticket waiting to be drawn, it was like having a talisman blessed by a deity, allowing her to naively believe she could one day secure a bright future.

Every high school student with a basic understanding of probability knows that chasing success through lottery tickets is laughable. The odds are so minuscule they might as well be nonexistent.

But back then, at least she was young, naïve, and foolish enough to harbor a faint hope for the future—a stark contrast to now.

On Wednesday night, she and her mother had an extended discussion about Zhao Chunni’s worsening condition.

Of course, Ha Yue failed to persuade her stubborn mother. She spent hours trying to reason with her, using examples and evidence to suggest that Jicheng might offer better treatment options. But after reading the doctor’s diagnosis, Zhao Chunni dismissed her proposal with just a few words.

Zhao Chunni told her daughter that she had only two requests.

First, she wanted Ha Yue to promise never to sell their house and shop in Suicheng to take her away. No matter how lacking this city might be, it was her roots. She wanted to return to them like fallen leaves returning to the soil. She had lived here, grown ill here, and wanted to die here. Back then, she had sold the mudbrick house inherited from her parents to pay for Ha Yue’s tuition. Now, this was her only home—her everything. She didn’t want to end up with nothing.

Second, she hoped that when she completely lost her faculties, Ha Yue would choose to let her go without treatment.

Her exact words were: “I’ve never begged anyone in my life. When your grandparents wouldn’t let me go to school, I didn’t beg them. When your father cheated and abandoned this family, I didn’t beg him. But today, I’m begging you—let me have the final say over my own life.”

“If you truly care about the bond between us as mother and daughter, then when I’ve completely lost my mind, send me off on my way.”

The streetlights suddenly flickered on, casting a hazy glow over the desolate, quiet street, making it seem ethereal.

Everyone defines their hometown differently. To Ha Yue, Suicheng was a dream both cruel and warm.

She had once known the happiness of being part of a family of three, but those unremembered childhood days were long gone. What remained were the arid memories of her teenage years, struggling through life with her mother. Those bitter days could only be endured by daily ignoring them.

And now, this bizarre, disjointed dream had come back to her, hiding in every dim corner of the streets, following her, occasionally using a gust of wind to remind her: her life was a battle she could never win.

Ha Yue withdrew her gaze and stepped into the glow of another streetlight.

Regardless of filial piety, Ha Yue, as a daughter, could never promise to actively end her mother’s life in the future.

That would be a crime.

The night before, she had not responded to her mother’s plea. But in her silence, she knew that the future she and her mother shared had already been written in black and white with the diagnosis. Zhao Chunni’s decision to handle things passively was the same reason Ha Yue had decided years ago to stop buying lottery tickets.

Neither of them wanted to keep striving for an unattainable goal. While it was a good thing to live each day with hope, sometimes hope could bring unbearable pain.

The greatest evil in human nature was greed, and hope would breed countless unattainable desires.

Thinking was exhausting. A three-minute walk took her thirty minutes to complete.

On the sidewalk, Ha Yue’s steps grew heavier, as though her entire body had sunk deep into the gray bricks beneath her. She kept her head down as she passed the lottery shop, forcing herself to wake up, but the sleep-induced haze still clung to her.

She didn’t know how long she had been walking through the desolate ruins, but after turning a corner, Ha Yue finally reached the intersection of Mulan Street. When she looked up, the self-pitying nightmare of her day was suddenly shaken awake.

Because in the garish glow of neon lights in front of the hotel, standing there was someone who did not belong to Suicheng, someone who carried no pain.

That person was nothing like her. He was sharp, clean, from his hair to his fingertips, all crystalline and translucent, like a piece of moon-white glazed Ru porcelain.

Everyone has their own fate, and Ha Yue wasn’t envious of Xue Jing’s success.

But Xue Jing’s inherent radiance was so bright, his dazzling brilliance became the mirror of her life, a mirror that had been reminding Ha Yue all along that she wasn’t even worthy of dreaming, not even of nightmares.

Someone like her was not porcelain, but more like weeds—fighting to survive, even as life’s loser. She had to grit her teeth, clench her fists, and endure each day without letting her eyes close.

After returning to the hotel from the mountain that afternoon, the first thing Xue Jing did was dump all the neatly folded clothes from his suitcase onto the bed.

The Armani suit he had worn when he landed was quickly dismissed. He didn’t want Ha Yue to think he was so poor he only had one decent outfit to wear.

The few items from Arc’teryx he had worn during the climb were also tossed onto the carpet. That brand screamed outdoor adventure, and although it had recently attracted a lot of young people, he feared Ha Yue might mock him as a greasy middle-aged man, the kind who says “wearing a bird’s logo means a wasted day of walking.”

Elimination narrowed his options down to a vintage pilot jacket he had bought abroad and a pair of loose Levi’s jeans.

But when he put them on, he felt like he looked exactly like a street punk from a narrow alley in Jicheng, riding a Harley trying to look cool.

“Tsk.” He adjusted his collar in front of the mirror, then looked down at his Chelsea boots. He couldn’t understand what he had been thinking when packing just a few days ago.

Had he really thought that arriving in the Northwest meant he had to dress like a cowboy?

He should have packed a few Lemaire outfits. At least his understated, meticulous outfits at book events always garnered praise. No matter what his books were like, he always looked as scholarly as his work.

It was already too late to go out and buy clothes. Suicheng didn’t seem like a place where there were many high-end boutiques.

What if he just changed his shoes? Would it help? He still had a plain T-shirt in his suitcase that could somewhat tone down the garishness of his outfit.

Two hours spent adjusting his outfit in the hotel, only to end up leaving at the appointed time with his hair still wet.

At 6:45, Xue Jing hurriedly pressed the elevator button. He had the habit of arriving fifteen minutes early to meetings. It was a matter of self-discipline, not an attempt to arrive early to see his ex-girlfriend.

As for the fact that he could have walked over to the restaurant across the street and sat down to wait but chose instead to stand at the same spot where they had parted, Xue Jing couldn’t find a good excuse to explain this self-inflicted discomfort.

Most likely, it was anxiety. Even though Ha Yue had confirmed the dinner plans with him, he still had doubts she might suddenly cancel on him.

Just like how, in the past, she had told him several times that she truly loved him, only to easily break up with him in the end.

Disastrous past relationships made people overly sensitive and suspicious.

Whether it was more embarrassing to stand on the street or sit in the restaurant, standing outside seemed like the better option. At least, passersby wouldn’t notice how long he had been waiting in one place.

Luckily, while people can live without love, they can’t live without food. The lack of love is bearable, but missing a meal could bring death. Today, Ha Yue didn’t break her promise.

At exactly 7:00, an unexpectedly mismatched couple walked into the hotpot restaurant side by side.

When ordering, Xue Jing handed the menu to Ha Yue. This was his usual way of treating others. Ha Yue smiled but didn’t hesitate to take the menu, starting to seriously compare the differences between the 139 yuan and 189 yuan set menus.

The staff at this place, probably due to the low wages, lacked the spirit of excessive service.

Noticing the customers didn’t seem in a rush to order, the waiter set down the kettle of hot water and walked back to the bar, leaning against the chair and chatting with the cashier while cracking sunflower seeds.

The restaurant wasn’t large. There were a few tables with couples dining with their children. The happy children didn’t need to exchange pleasantries and immediately hit it off, spinning like tops and occasionally creating small gusts of wind between the tables. Xue Jing tried his best to hold back a frown amid the noisy chatter. He lifted the kettle and poured hot water over their utensils.

As he poured water for Ha Yue, Xue Jing quietly appraised her appearance.

She wore a gray hoodie layered with a silver down vest, loose jeans covering her high-top Converse, and a high ponytail that kept everything out of her face.

Ha Yue had no unnecessary accessories. She dressed more casually than she had four days ago. Xue Jing even noticed that the elbows of her hoodie had developed small fuzzy balls from frequent friction.

Looking at his slightly damp forehead and the woody scent of his leather jacket, Xue Jing couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment. The saying that “women dress up for the ones they love” must be true; perhaps he had misunderstood the intent behind his ex-girlfriend’s invitation to dinner.

When they were in a relationship, Ha Yue had almost never worn the same outfit in front of Xue Jing. In the summer heat, she would wear a spaghetti strap dress that reached her calves, her shoulders and neck slim and straight, and her delicate arms would sway with her waist, like dancing willow branches.

In the winter, she wasn’t afraid of the cold. On snowy days, she would wear a short A-line skirt under her duffle coat. Her legs were slim and delicate, her skin tender, and Xue Jing couldn’t resist placing his palm against her skin to warm her up, afraid she would freeze in the sub-zero temperatures.

What’s more, Ha Yue always wore makeup whenever she came to see him.

Even during the few weeks they lived together near graduation, the first thing Ha Yue would do after waking up was scream as she rushed into the bathroom to wash her face, still with water droplets on her face, hurriedly applying lip balm.

It was during that time that Xue Jing learned that girls had a kind of makeup called “bare-faced cream.”

Today, Ha Yue definitely hadn’t put anything on her face, because Xue Jing could easily spot five small freckles on her cheeks. This was only the second time he had seen Ha Yue without makeup, from the time they first met until now.

The last time, she had dressed like a kind-hearted rural woman, and now she looked like a high school graduate.

Neither of these was the Ha Yue he had known.

His fingers grew warm, and Xue Jing realized he was gripping the still-warm teacup. His knuckles tightened and his fingertips turned a deep red.

Ha Yue raised her head, not paying him any special attention, and was waving at the waiter in the distance to let him know they were ready to order.