PSE - 26

The saying goes, “Things should not be repeated three times.” After the unpleasant encounter at the market, Xue Jing indeed behaved himself for a while.

Just as when he first arrived in Jicheng and Ha Yue invited him to dinner, Xue Jing wasn’t in a rush. He followed his plan and began preparing for certification exams. Besides attending twelve hours of classes each week, he would also bring his laptop to Suicheng Library to sift through chronological records.

As for Lou Zhiyun? Xue Jing heard that the man had suddenly taken his annual leave and left Suicheng.

Even if he were still around, Xue Jing wouldn’t bother dealing with him. Instead, he preferred to directly train with the grassroots maintenance workers.

He wasn’t afraid of dirt or fatigue. In this preliminary work, Xue Jing was willing to put in the effort.

Online toxic鸡汤 (inspirational quotes) often claim that the best things in the world are free. But that’s not true. Treasures need to be unearthed, and fruits need to be cultivated. Those unwilling to make an effort won’t even receive pity from their exes.

Although novels are fictional, they ultimately need to be grounded in environments that feel real to readers.

In the early stages of his career, when he was still an emerging writer, Xue Jing wrote about Jicheng in Afternoon Rooftop—about students, the education system, and middle-aged individuals who schemed against each other emotionally, tearing one another apart like beasts.

These were fields where he excelled because they stemmed from his own upbringing.

But to break through, he couldn’t keep copying and pasting the same patterns. He didn’t want to become an author who repeatedly plagiarized himself.

Later, as his works expanded in scope, Xue Jing began to truly realize how narrow and shallow his life was. No matter how he rearranged and reformatted his words, he couldn’t escape the limitations of his own experiences.

Creation must have roots; what he feared most was floating in the air.

His writing, in a more flattering light, could be called “mysterious and profound, the door to all wonders.” But in reality, it was like the properties his parents owned across various cities—ostentatious, large, and empty, devoid of inhabitants.

Compared to documentaries with flesh and blood, his works resembled pretentious art films filled with moaning without cause.

Ha Yue often critiqued his early drafts this way. Arrogant as he was, he should have dismissed her comments. The frequent emotional fluctuations he felt were partly because he agreed with her sharp tongue.

Ha Yue always viewed things from a fierce perspective, and only she could touch his core.

This intellectual sparring was like salt on a wound, often making him frown involuntarily. But how could one grow without pain?

Moreover, this new work was different. The more he explored Suicheng, the more he discovered its unique charm. This city lacked the expensive fig leaf of ostentation. It was more like vast patches of thorns growing on a desert—rugged and wild. Even if the wind tore off its stems, its roots remained connected beneath the yellow earth.

He thought that the characters in his new book probably wouldn’t need tender care either. He just needed to scatter them into dire straits, letting them face challenges alone, exposing all their sinews and veins for readers to scrutinize.

To put it simply, whether in creation or emotions, everything seemed to become simpler.

He was glad that his reunion with Ha Yue helped him kick the habit of piling up flowery language. He was very grateful to her.

Having set the framework, characters, and plotlines, filling in the details became a task requiring perseverance.

Moments of inspiration were delightful. What truly pleased Xue Jing was that his thoughts flowed continuously, like a gentle stream. Besides the standard reports, he had already drafted sixty thousand words of his new work, which flowed smoothly. For now, he hadn’t shown it to anyone.

On non-training days, he slept during the day at the hotel and wrote alone in his room at night, muting his phone. He rarely answered calls, even from Zhou Shuang. He relied on coffee, strong tea, and various instant foods to keep going.

Meanwhile, in terms of housing, Xue Jing got his wish. With Jinzi’s help, he moved from the hotel into a flat opposite Ha Yue’s house, using only essential items. He became the new “pretty boy” mentioned by Zhao Chunni.

The day he submitted the final draft of the report to the Cultural Bureau happened to be the Start of Winter.

Xue Jing had stayed up all night, finishing the last round of revisions. He came to submit it in the morning but was caught by Director Zhao, who talked to him about cultural work all day.

Recently inspired by Xue Jing, Director Zhao stopped following up on the exaggerated commercial projects of the cultural town and focused on planning publicity activities for Suicheng Public Library. He was considering whether they could bid for a café inside the public library to attract more young people to read.

There were many PR activities they could emulate, such as book signings and interviews.

Xue Jing shared all his experiences from events in various cities without reservation.

By late afternoon, as Xue Jing stepped out of the Cultural Bureau’s gate, fine snowflakes suddenly began to drift down from the sky.

The first snow of Suicheng this year lacked perfect hexagonal shapes. The snow fell grain by grain onto his sleeves, making a rustling sound, resembling tiny polystyrene balls.

Perhaps due to his high body temperature, Xue Jing couldn’t pick up these solid whites with his fingertips. Just touching them caused the snowflakes to sublimate instantly, disappearing in a flash.

Being a northerner familiar with winter, Xue Jing knew that due to geographical reasons, Suicheng’s winter would be colder than Jicheng’s.

However, he didn’t expect that the cold here wasn’t just reflected in temperature but measured in long units of time. Winter arrived so early, thousands of kilometers away from home. The clothes Zhou Shuang sent him last time were no longer sufficient to keep him warm.

Xue Jing looked weary, his face pale. Although he had finally completed a task weighing on his mind, his emotions weren’t well consoled.

Standing by the roadside, he gazed at the gloomy sky for a while and couldn’t help but recall Ha Yue’s expression when she saw him moving into the house opposite hers.

Ha Yue truly wished she could write “Refuse to Repeat Mistakes” on her face. Her eyebrows first shot up sharply, then furrowed angrily. Later, she turned around and slammed her door shut to show her displeasure.

The loud “clang” still echoed in his head.

If Zhao Chunni hadn’t been watching their situation from the yard, Ha Yue might have given him the middle finger.

Since that day, Ha Yue had been trying her best to avoid him. She probably even specifically instructed her mother, saying he was Hades who could bewitch people’s hearts. Regardless of what convenience services he offered during these days, Zhao Chunni never stepped out of the gate to talk to him.

This middle-aged woman always peeked at him through the keyhole inside the door, as if looking at a leper covered with lice.

From large items like tonics and tea to small ones like fruits and rice flour, everything he sent was rejected by Zhao Chunni. Once, when Ha Yue’s mother saw him talking to Siqin Tuoya through the door crack, she even came out and cursed him: “What the hell do you want? We don’t buy insurance.”

After patiently explaining repeatedly without success, it was Aunt Siqin who awkwardly dragged Zhao Chunni back into the yard. After that, Ha Yue’s courtyard was always locked.

Besides being warmly “greeted” by Ha Yue’s mother, Xue Jing also poorly timed his encounters. His schedule was completely different from Ha Yue’s. In the morning, when Ha Yue went out to open the store, Xue Jing was already asleep with his clothes on; at night, when Ha Yue closed the store and returned home, Xue Jing was busy working at his desk.

During these days of living opposite Ha Yue as neighbors, Xue Jing saw those geese more often than he saw his ex-girlfriend herself.

Heaven be merciful! These cute animals, which were made into memes and praised online, were not ambassadors of peace in real life. They were more like fierce war criminals with strong territorial awareness.

One day, he went to the supermarket for shopping and forgot to close the door when he returned. After finishing organizing the refrigerator, he found a big goose cautiously entering his small yard, leaving a trail of abundant droppings on the ground.

Upon seeing him push open the window with an unfriendly expression, this thug who relieved himself anywhere quickly flapped its wings and fled, leaving behind a few startled honks in the air.

From then on, the flock of geese that often foraged autonomously at Ha Yue’s doorstep regarded him as an intruder.

Every time they encountered each other, several male geese would lower their heads to the ground and swiftly attack his ankles, while the female geese would stretch their necks behind them, loudly calling out, showing off their strength.

Xue Jing disliked all ingredients that reminded him of the appearance of meat before it was cooked, so he had never eaten poultry offal since childhood. This was the first time he truly realized that geese had serrated beaks with quite astonishing biting power.

When unable to dodge, getting bitten on the ankle really hurt.

Ha Yue’s geese were like Ha Yue herself—hard-toothed and very good at leaving various marks on his body. Of course, it was no surprise that she cursed; daughters always bear their mothers’ shadows.

But one couldn’t hold grudges against animals—it wasn’t worth it. Love the house and its crows; under the premise of respecting the elderly, he had to tolerate these animals occasionally ambushing him.

However, forcing someone should have limits. He expressed his wishes, but Ha Yue didn’t accept them—he couldn’t keep bulldozing forward like an excavator.

Love required mutual response, not unilateral cramming.

There seemed to be nothing more he could do. Being more aggressive would only produce counterproductive effects.

Taking a deep breath, Xue Jing retracted his gaze and prepared to get in the car when his phone rang.

His temple twitched, and Xue Jing immediately pressed the mute button. Originally, he thought the caller was Zhou Shuang or one of his assistants. During this period, Zhou Shuang nagged him daily about either pushing his courses or arranging his business. When he didn’t get a reply, he would switch to having assistants bombard him with sugar-coated messages every few days.

Two weeks ago, Zhou Shuang said he had found an antique chicken cup at an auction and asked him to take a look. Last week, he mentioned finding a small courtyard in Huairou particularly suitable for writing and invited him to gather. This week, he pulled another stunt, saying he bought a bright red Cullinan and planned to take Xue Jing to a bar to find casual encounters.

In short, it all boiled down to one sentence: “Xue’r, when will you return to Jicheng to make money with me? I can’t do it without you.”

To such shameless vulgar acts, Xue Jing pretended not to see them all.

Sometimes, to avoid making things difficult for the assistants, he would reply with a “wait a moment,” but this wait would last another 24 hours.

However, before putting the phone back in his pocket, he turned the screen to glance at it.

Who knows? Maybe Ha Yue’s phone malfunctioned and dialed him automatically. He could use this opportunity to send her a message.

Last time he invited Ha Yue for coffee, she said there were only milk tea shops in Suicheng, no cafes. So he specially bought a semi-automatic espresso machine, practicing latte art for several days following instructional videos while eating. He hadn’t invited her over for coffee yet.

This kind of侥幸 (hope against hope) wasn’t too great, so the disappointment was only slight when it fell through. The incoming call number belonged to his new friend, Jinzi.