PSE - 29

At some point, the light snow from the sky suddenly stopped.

The sun had yet to rise, and the black-tiled, yellow-brick houses around were still wet, enveloped in the bright moonlight, giving off a moist sheen like the first brushstrokes of an ink painting.

When Xue Jing got out of the car, Ha Yue hadn’t come out yet. By the time Ha Yue stood at his door, peeking in with half her head, Xue Jing had already removed his mask and started washing his hands inside with running water and disinfectant soap.

The layout of the flat Xue Jing rented was the same as Ha Yue’s house.

But even with the same floor plan, different owners meant different levels of cleanliness—or lack thereof.

It was hard to keep Ha Yue’s house clean. Animal droppings, food scraps, and kitchen grease stains persisted no matter how often they cleaned, accumulating thick layers of grime in every corner.

On top of that, Zhao Chunni often accumulated beverage bottles and cardboard boxes in the yard, turning them into playgrounds for rats. No matter how many rat traps they set, there were still occasional escapees spotted in the yard.

But Xue Jing’s place, though simply renovated, was as clean as a minimalist guesthouse.

In the corner of the small courtyard, there was an outdoor stove with a fire-viewing window. Beneath the white canopy, aside from bundles of wood, the outdoor dining table held a complete set of tea utensils.

As for the interior, with just a glance through the window, Ha Yue caught sight of several plum branches displayed on Xue Jing’s dining table for decoration.

Her dining table, on the other hand, was cluttered with dishcloths, toothpicks, napkins, and all sorts of opened but unfinished food items. Even finding space to place bowls and chopsticks during meals required squeezing things around. But Xue Jing’s home was spacious and aesthetically pleasing, with plants soaking in water decorating the dining area.

Just two doors apart, but the atmosphere and aesthetic here felt modern and distinctly Xue Jing.

A sharp pang struck her chest, reminiscent of when they were dating, and she discovered that Xue Jing never licked the yogurt lid after eating yogurt. They lived in the same world, but even living right across from each other felt like being in parallel universes, always separated by invisible barriers.

This intangible gap made her uncomfortable.

The thermos in her hand wasn’t light. Looking down at her muddy rubber rain boots, Ha Yue reluctantly took a couple of steps into the yard and called out, “Hey,” extending her arm toward the door to hand over the thermos. But Xue Jing didn’t take it. He frowned slightly, clearly dissatisfied with the distance between them. His voice was hoarse as he stood in the doorway and spoke to her, “Come closer. I can’t hear you.”

Ha Yue rolled her eyes, thinking there was nothing much to say about delivering food. She stayed put and shouted loudly instead, “I said, take the thermos! I’m not coming in.”

“Why?”

Why?

Because she had stayed up all night and needed to go home to catch up on sleep. Because it would look improper for a man and woman to be alone together, especially under such circumstances. And because, under this night’s glow, Xue Jing looked so much like a tempting little dessert, and she feared her sweet tooth might have regrown.

But these reasons couldn’t be spoken aloud, so she impatiently replied, “I’ve stepped in mud.” Besides, his house had expensive hardwood floors that couldn’t handle water.

Upon hearing this, Xue Jing bent down, pulled a pair of women’s slippers from the shoe cabinet, and placed them on the ground in front of her.

She tried to decline again, “I can’t stay long. I’m worried the pigs might get out.”

Xue Jing glanced past her toward the opposite side, “I saw you lock the gate with a chain just now.”

Ah, yes. To prevent her mother from wandering off during moments of confusion, she had gotten into the habit of locking the gate whenever she left, even if it was just for a few minutes.

Seeing that Ha Yue still hadn’t moved, her entire body exuding hesitation, Xue Jing’s eyes revealed a hint of fatigue. His tone was direct, “Ha Yue, sitting on hospital chairs isn’t that comfortable. It’s cold right now, and I’m hungry. If you’re worried about that, don’t be. I’m very tired right now.”

“Really.”

“Xiaoyu is someone you care about, right? Jinzi said you two are usually close. Don’t you want to know how she’s doing? I’ll tell you while I eat, okay?”

“It’s uncomfortable standing in the draft.”

With no way out of this predicament, Ha Yue had no choice but to obediently walk over.

As soon as she stepped under the eaves, Xue Jing took the thermos from her hands, and even the down jacket draped over her shoulders was hung by him in the secondary clothing area near the entrance.

Ha Yue lowered her head to change her shoes on the doormat. Her gaze fell on Xue Jing’s ankle, and she furrowed her brow. She noticed some overlapping new and old small wounds on his ankle beneath his pants. Glancing sideways, sure enough, most of the sneakers in the shoe cabinet were delicate, light-colored ones.

That prickly feeling in her heart softened into a bittersweet ache. She knew Xue Jing must have been bitten by her geese while wearing those expensive sneakers—probably more than once.

This aesthetically refined man from Jicheng wouldn’t know that geese not only saw tall humans as threats but also particularly disliked bipedal creatures wearing white shoes.

But it didn’t matter. Most of the geese had been eaten by now. By next spring, Xue Jing would surely be long gone from here.

Xue Jing walked over to the dining table, opened the thermos, and paused momentarily when he saw the first layer of braised goose meat. His eyelashes lowered. Opening the next layer revealed a few homemade pickled dishes, and at the bottom was a full bowl of almond porridge.

He hadn’t expected the food Ha Yue brought to be freshly made. When he saw her carrying the thermos earlier, he had assumed it contained pre-made frozen dumplings or steamed buns.

During their cohabitation in their graduation season, Xue Jing often competed with her for kitchen time to show off. During those dozens of days, he followed recipe books and prepared over ten different types of sandwiches for her breakfast, even cutting avocados into heart shapes. But cooking complex dishes truly required practice, so they always ate out at night.

This was the first time he had seen a meal cooked by Ha Yue’s own hands.

His throat no longer itched, and he felt as refreshed as if he had taken some forbidden drug. With just one word from Ha Yue, he felt he could endure another full day and night at the hospital.

Everything he had done today was purely coincidental. If he had known that Ha Yue cared so much about the neighbors, he might have started by finding an angle through Cao Xiaoyu and persuading her through all the points she cared about.

Thinking this way, Xue Jing solemnly said to Ha Yue at the entrance, “Thank you. Actually, I didn’t do much for...”

Referring to Cao Xiaoyu as “Xiaoyu” might imply too much intimacy, so after saying just the word “little,” Xue Jing consciously corrected his address for the female neighbor.

“I really didn’t do much for Jinzi’s wife. I’m not a doctor; I just helped run errands.”

The words “thank you” were insufficient to express his gratitude. Before picking up his chopsticks, Xue Jing went into the kitchen to rummage through the supplies. However, all he found were dark chocolate and coffee powder—there wasn’t even a single fruit that Ha Yue liked.

It wasn’t suitable to drink coffee in the early morning. The only things he could share with Ha Yue, aside from the meal she prepared, were the multivitamins lined up on his bedside table.

Offering someone food was a gesture of goodwill, washing fruits was mere politeness—but inviting guests to take health supplements? That would just be bizarre.

When he returned from the kitchen, Xue Jing brought two sets of bowls and chopsticks and asked her somewhat awkwardly, “Would you like to join me and eat something? Cooking must be tiring. You’ve really gone out of your way.”

After being refused by Ha Yue, he suddenly slapped his forehead as if remembering something. “Then how about tea? Would ‘Imperial Eighteen’ do? I’ll go boil some water.”

Ha Yue pulled out a dining chair and sat diagonally across from Xue Jing, the farthest possible distance between them. She wasn’t the Qianlong Emperor, and drinking exorbitantly priced imperial tea late at night was already stretching her limits of intimacy. So, wrinkling her nose slightly, she raised her right hand and pointed at the food that was about to cool, pretending to threaten him, “I’m telling you, are you going to eat or not? If you keep dawdling, I’m taking it away.”

Of course, he was going to eat. How could he not, when it was made by her hands? Xue Jing sat down and slowly began drinking the porridge.

He rarely spoke while eating, so the narrative process was also very slow.

After delivering the news of Xiaoyu’s pregnancy, both Ha Yue and Xue Jing fell silent. It was particularly poignant for a separated couple to discuss another person’s marriage and happiness.

Once his appetite warmed up, Xue Jing began eating the dishes. After taking the first bite of meat, he didn’t find anything wrong, quickly followed by a second bite. Wanting to continue the conversation with Ha Yue, he made small talk: “The duck meat is very fresh. Did you buy it today?”

Home-slaughtered poultry was naturally fresh. Across the dining table, Ha Yue watched Xue Jing, who even ate like a painting, and casually remarked, “It’s the goose we raised at home. Just slaughtered, so it’s definitely fresh. It took a long time to bleed it out, and even after washing my hands several times, they still smelled of blood.”

After Ha Yue’s correction, Xue Jing’s chewing suddenly stopped. His expression became slightly uneasy, and the chopsticks in his hand hovered in mid-air.

Although the geese at Ha Yue’s house attacked him every day, swallowing these animals that he had seen just yesterday didn’t feel good. To describe it, it was akin to the scenes he had witnessed over the years in markets along China’s eastern coast where donkey meat was sold.

To prove freshness, butchers would brutally hit live donkeys on the head with an iron hammer in front of them. The dying donkeys would collapse, be skinned, and cut into pieces—all vividly reflected in the eyes of their still-breathing counterparts.

This shocking scene made it hard for Xue Jing to swallow even the most delicious donkey meat dishes.

This reason was quite plausible, similar to why he avoided eating animal heads, offal, and claws.

Even after years of separation, the man and woman sitting diagonally across from each other at the table were still too familiar with each other’s subtle movements. Just a slight tension in Xue Jing’s facial muscles was enough for Ha Yue to discern his inner revulsion.

From the trembling of his pupils, she guessed that if she weren’t present, Xue Jing might have immediately spat out the food in his mouth?

In big cities, people kept pets as emotional companions, treating them like babies. But what they raised was a good dish.

Their different growth environments led to fundamentally incompatible logic.

Realizing this, the emotions that had troubled Ha Yue these days suddenly lifted. Her back straightened on the chair, but her gaze remained soft. Looking at Xue Jing, she appeared both compassionate and detached, like the statue of Guanyin: “Xue Jing, do you think slaughtering animals is terrifying? But there’s no way around it. People like us are like this. We also raise pigs at home, and when they grow up next year, they will be eaten too.”

“You’ve certainly eaten pork, pre-processed at the supermarket, but you’ve never seen a pig being slaughtered, right? When I was younger, our family was poorer, and we looked forward to slaughtering a pig every year. The pig’s screams were loud and pitiful, but all the neighbors who came to help tie ropes, stab knives, and catch the pig’s blood in basins were cheerful. Even the children clapped and cheered. No one cared about the animal’s feelings because people were about to have meat.”

Talking about these things at the dinner table wouldn’t sit well with Xue Jing. He had many taboos.

Ha Yue thought Xue Jing must have lost his appetite again. This time, just like last time at the dinner table, it was definitely her fault, and she acknowledged it.

But she didn’t want to apologize this time. Too many apologies could be exhausting. Besides, as Xue Jing had said, the purpose of apologizing was to correct mistakes. How could she change her background? It was impossible.

No matter how much she tried to make amends, it wouldn’t work.

Withdrawing her gaze, Ha Yue stood up and walked to the kitchen to tear off a sheet of kitchen paper, placing it on the dining table in front of Xue Jing. Then she reached out to collect the thermos.

Ha Yue’s voice was soft and pleasant, her hair obediently gentle, brushing lightly against his shoulder like willow branches. But such a benevolent-looking her was delivering Xue Jing’s final verdict.

“So, Xue Jing, go home. Don’t waste your efforts here. No matter what, people like you don’t belong here.”

Xue Jing really shouldn’t waste any more time in Suicheng.

His life floated high in the sky, his spirit overly abundant, allowing him to shower compassion on the masses. Meanwhile, she was still struggling to survive in the cracks of the eighteenth level underground. She couldn’t bear his tenderness and charity.

“Don’t waste time. We’re not kids anymore, right?”

Four years had passed, and the appeal was denied. She still sentenced their relationship to death.