PSE - 28

About half an hour later, the painkillers took effect, driving away the pain in Xue Jing’s body and banishing those ghostly memories that had haunted him.

When Jinzi rushed out of the elevator, Xue Jing had already regained his usual gentle and elegant demeanor—his figure slender, his expression calm, and even the strands of hair on his head looked fresh and voluminous.

After faithfully recounting the doctor’s words to Jinzi, Xue Jing stepped away from the trivial exchanges between Jinzi and his in-laws and immediately headed back home.

The road was still the same desolate asphalt road. Compared to the bustling daytime, Suicheng’s deep night felt eerily empty. A quick glance revealed no one on the streets—it resembled a hastily constructed horror movie set.

On the way back, Xue Jing drove very slowly—not only because the ground was covered with muddy slush from the melted snow but also because he occasionally needed to suppress the itch rising in his throat.

Before being with Ha Yue, Xue Jing hated snowy days the most and dreaded going to hospitals.

Every year, as Jicheng approached the season of snowfall, he would go to great lengths to prevent himself from getting sick—but to no avail. No matter how many layers he wore, he would still fall seriously ill, coughing, running a fever, and endlessly having nightmares when his consciousness slipped away.

Experiencing the same nightmare countless times was no different from being fried in boiling oil. As a child grew into a teenager, snow became a knot in his heart.

It wasn’t until his early twenties that Ha Yue gave him a memory worth treasuring on a snowy day.

From then on, the boy donned armor made of flowers, pretending to be a mature and gentle adult. On every snowy day, what he preferred to recall most were Ha Yue’s face, her voice, and the layered warmth and softness she exuded.

Even if the flowers had expired, withered, and faded—even if it was the face of someone who had abandoned him—he could still feel a sense of solace knowing that she was alive somewhere, even if she wasn’t by his side.

The ultimate “never seeing each other again” in this world isn’t marked by the word “breakup.” It’s the vast separation of life and death.

But at this moment, having witnessed those patients teetering on the brink of death, he became particularly sensitive to the word “breakup.”

Both of them were still very much alive, breathing and living. Why couldn’t they give it another try?

The car came to a stop in the alleyway. After turning off the engine, Xue Jing didn’t get out immediately. Through the car window, he could faintly see a warm yellow light glowing in the darkness of Ha Yue’s yard—it seemed to be coming from the kitchen.

His slender, pale fingers held the phone as he opened the WeChat interface, ignoring all the red notification alerts. He scrolled to the top of the chat list, found Ha Yue, typed out a message, then deleted it, over and over again.

Tonight’s message was incredibly difficult to compose—more so than any work he had ever written before.

He was carefully considering what he could say that wouldn’t come across as too repulsive.

All his attempts at phrasing failed him. It was as if Xue Jing had suddenly lost his ability to command words. After hesitating for more than ten minutes and repeatedly trying out different sentences, predicting whether she might ignore his message, he finally settled on a bland, almost meaningless greeting: “Are you asleep?”

It was 3:10 a.m. She should be asleep by now, right?

He shouldn’t disturb her at such a late hour—it wasn’t polite to wake someone who was sleeping soundly. Ha Yue hadn’t been particularly fond of sleeping in the past; she often woke up early to put on makeup. But he wasn’t sure if her lack of morning irritability could also be an act.

Still, he wanted to take the risk and wish her goodnight, even if she didn’t reply.

He coughed again. The warmth that had lingered inside the car moments ago had completely dissipated, leaving his knees numb and tightening with cold. Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath, and just before opening the car door, he gently pressed “send” with his thumb.

A ping echoed at the same time—on the screen, Ha Yue had sent him four words: “Are you hungry now?”

Xue Jing had no idea that tonight, Ha Yue had also stayed up late without sleep.

Her earlier warning to him at the market wasn’t born out of annoyance but came from a place of sincerity.

In recent days, community workers had been relaying epidemic prevention policy updates in the residents’ group chat. Besides undergoing Suicheng’s first round of citywide nucleic acid testing, merchants operating businesses were required to undergo daily tests if they wished to keep their doors open.

People were anxious. Upon hearing the news, residents began rushing to supermarkets and stores to hoard emergency supplies.

Even Ha Yue’s grocery store had been completely emptied within a week—tissues, instant noodles, snacks, and drinks were all sold out, and there was no restocking.

In this urgent period, finding caregivers was difficult. The last caregiver who communicated with Ha Yue on WeChat and agreed to provide close care for her mother during this special time demanded a monthly salary of 6,000 yuan, excluding her personal food expenses and triple pay for holidays.

Over the past two years, despite Ha Yue’s diligent management, the Chunni Grocery Store had reached its highest turnover in history. However, given its limited scale, the gross profit on her books barely reached 6,000 yuan per month. After deducting utility bills and other overhead costs, the net profit was only 5,000 yuan.

She divided this money into two parts: 3,000 yuan went into a fixed deposit account, and 2,000 yuan was used for her and her mother’s daily expenses.

If she hired a caregiver, not only would Ha Yue no longer be able to save money, but she would also have to spend significantly more than her total income.

Ha Yue didn’t have much savings.

The funds she had were limited, and once they ran out, what would she and her mother do? Would they really have to beg on the streets?

Thus, hiring a caregiver was temporarily out of the question.

Next, Ha Yue began roughly considering whether she should sell the grocery store in the near future. After all, taking care of her mother herself wouldn’t cost anything. Moreover, selling the store could earn her 50,000 to 60,000 yuan, which would at least give her some disposable income for food.

Mother and daughter didn’t spend much on food. She had no loans to repay, and by minimizing expenses, she could extend the time she could sustain her mother and herself.

As for the future, she would deal with it when the time came.

This afternoon, after closing the store, Ha Yue brought back several boxes of the remaining supplies from the grocery store, intending to distribute them to Jinzi and Xue Jing.

However, the pickup truck that had been parked steadily outside Ha Yue’s gate every day for the past month was nowhere to be seen.

These days, Xue Jing, who usually stayed at home, seemed to have gone out.

At first, she didn’t think much of it, assuming he had some new engagement at the Cultural Bureau. But after dinner, after feeding the pigs, when Ha Yue walked to the gate and still didn’t see his car, she began to feel uneasy.

Light snow was falling, and the road conditions weren’t good. Surely Xue Jing wouldn’t be reckless enough to drive fast in this weather, would he?

She scrolled through her social media feed, but no one mentioned any chain accidents on Suicheng’s streets today. Though the snow was dense, it wasn’t yet deep winter, and it melted upon hitting the ground.

Concerned about the supplies, after taking a bath and without drying her hair, Ha Yue went to the gate to look around. She repeated this several times until the TV drama Zhao Chunni often watched had ended.

The TV screen went black, and the house fell silent again. The pigs, geese, and Zhao Chunni were all asleep, and even the moon had hidden behind thick clouds.

But as time passed, the voices in Ha Yue’s mind grew louder. Even the ticking of the clock in the living room seemed amplified tenfold. At one point, she naturally considered calling Xue Jing, but as the hours dragged on past midnight, when she opened her eyes and picked up her phone again, the original excuse of delivering supplies had already faded.

At this hour, midnight, asking her ex-boyfriend why he hadn’t come home would make her inquiry seem suspiciously intimate.

She asked herself honestly: Did she still have feelings for Xue Jing? The answer was yes.

A person’s charm inevitably included appearance, knowledge, and wealth. At this stage, Xue Jing excelled in these external qualities—he was a heartthrob on a whole new level, even more impressive than when they were in school.

She had resolved to lower her standards when choosing a partner, but she wasn’t rejecting men entirely or retreating into solitude.

Unfortunately, regarding whether she and such a “perfect” Xue Jing had a future together, Ha Yue’s perspective hadn’t changed.

She felt immense guilt and encouragement toward Xue Jing—a sincere kind of support.

She had dreams once, but when she woke up, the cheerleader had to stand in line and cheer for the star on stage. She couldn’t possibly crawl under the spotlight again and actively endure the humiliation fate might bring.

Her life was just like this—predictable from start to finish—but Xue Jing’s wasn’t.

So no matter how strongly her heart fluttered, it held no real meaning. She didn’t want to become a burden to her partner, especially not to someone she had genuinely loved in her life.

What did it matter if her heart raced? She could endure it, just as she had endured her childhood, her adolescence, and the past few years. She had already accepted that she wasn’t the radiant protagonist of this world, but rather like a wisp of willow fluff occasionally blown into the sky by the wind. The highlight of her life had ended the year she graduated from university.

Perhaps she was atoning now for defying her mother’s decision on her college application form.

But if she could live her life over again, would she choose not to board that green train to Jicheng?

Ha Yue wasn’t sure. Because at the end of that train ride, she had met a 19-year-old Xue Jing. During that brief period of first love, she had truly shone brightly, even if only for a short while.

The surging tides within her chest rolled wave after wave. Ha Yue closed her eyes, lying peacefully on the single bed, her hands folded together on her chest. She let the nameless sadness wash through her body, from head to toe, along with her blood.

In the past two years, she often felt that this small bed was neither too big nor too small—it was like a coffin perfectly sized to carry her to her death.

Every night before falling asleep, she thought: If she never opened her eyes again tomorrow, it wouldn’t be so bad. So she always hoped sleep would quickly bring an end to the day.

But tonight, she didn’t think about that. Her mind was filled with thoughts of Xue Jing.

And so, at half past two, a commotion came from outside. Supporting her numb body, she awkwardly got out of bed, put on her down jacket, and tiredly pushed open the gate to her yard.

Outside, Jinzi was consoling his mother, telling her that Xiaoyu was fine and that she could visit her at the hospital tomorrow morning.

As soon as Ha Yue appeared, Aunt Siqin turned away to wipe her tears. Jinzi hurried off to the hospital to relieve Xue Jing, hastily handing over the task of comforting his mother to Ha Yue before leaving again with some clothes Xiaoyu needed for her hospital stay.

Ha Yue’s heart was already uneasy, and upon hearing the news about Xiaoyu, her lips went dry, and her heart raced even faster.

After five minutes, she settled Aunt Siqin, heated a cup of milk for her, locked the gate behind her, and returned home. But she couldn’t calm herself enough to lie back down. Instead, she paced back and forth in her room.

Her fingers tightly gripped the down jacket she wore, and her slippers were still stained with melted snow and dirt. Aside from feeling relieved for Xiaoyu’s survival, she couldn’t ignore her growing concern for Xue Jing.

It was freezing cold today. Had Xue Jing gone to the hospital wearing thin clothes again to keep watch over the patient?

If he caught a chill, he’d cough all night and not be able to sleep. His brain must be malfunctioning, choosing to stay in Suicheng and suffer voluntarily.

He was so picky about food. Had he eaten anything during the night he spent at the hospital?

If his stomach got worse here, there weren’t any renowned doctors to treat him. If left untreated, his ulcers would surely flare up again. He used to get so absorbed in writing that he’d skip meals. No wonder his stomach was in such bad shape.

When it came to her ex-boyfriend’s advances, Ha Yue could feign indifference without hesitation.

But toward a new neighbor who willingly stayed up all night at the hospital for a barely familiar neighbor, Ha Yue couldn’t harden her heart. She couldn’t bear to see Xue Jing suffer.

After pacing around the house a few times, her body acted before her mind could catch up. Without fully deciding what to do, she found herself in the kitchen, turning on the overhead light and putting on an apron.

She grabbed a handful of almonds from the cupboard and scooped a small bowl of rice from the rice jar, tossing them both into cold water to soak. After confirming the main ingredients, she opened the fridge, sighed at the leftover dishes full of spices, picked up the cleaver from the cutting board, and sharpened it against the edge of a bowl. Then she walked straight to the goose pen in the corner of the yard.

By 3:10 a.m., the goose meat, after being bled and plucked, had been chopped into small pieces with a cleaver and neatly placed in a hot pot, slowly simmering into a warm, amber-brown color.

The almonds and rice were ground into tiny particles using a blender and cooked into a thick porridge, which was then poured into the inner layer of a thermos.

Almonds helped soothe the throat, and the warm broth was easier to digest than plain rice. The last time they had hot pot with porridge, Xue Jing had only drunk the porridge.

The trash bin contained the processed innards and goose feathers. Ha Yue, expressionless, quickly cleaned up the blood splattered in the sink. She was fast and ruthless when slaughtering geese, and equally efficient at cleaning up afterward.

Before seasoning, the goose meat had been pressure-cooked with a splash of alcohol. The final step was sprinkling finely chopped green onions over the dish as garnish. The sharp knife moved swiftly under her hand, chopping the scallions into uniform pieces, as if copied and pasted.

Just as the meal was ready, the sound of a car engine shutting off came from outside the yard—it was Xue Jing.

Ha Yue reached out to seal the top of the thermos box, wiped her hands on her apron, and then picked up her phone.

Scrolling down through dozens of chat windows to “X,” she hesitated for a moment, staring at his profile picture, but didn’t type anything.

The food was ready, but she began to doubt whether it was appropriate to deliver a meal to her ex-boyfriend in the middle of the night, especially since he had already made his feelings clear. She didn’t want to give him the wrong impression that there was a future between them.

The knife she used to slaughter the goose probably wasn’t sharp enough anymore, but sharpening it further might damage the blade.

Standing in the kitchen for a few minutes, she waited until the two remaining geese in the yard suddenly cried out one after another. Taking a deep breath, she finally lowered her head and started typing.

Never mind. She had already slaughtered the goose; she couldn’t waste the ingredients.

These were Suipu geese she had painstakingly raised for months. They had just the right amount of fat, tender texture, and were often free-range near the stream at the foot of the mountain during summer, feeding on organic food. They were highly nutritious.

It was just a meal delivery. Over the past two years, she and her neighbors frequently exchanged food. It didn’t mean that eating her goose required anyone to pledge their life to her.

Don’t overthink it. This is just a friendly exchange between neighbors.