PSE - 48

Winter days in Suicheng were short, and nights were long. By seven o’clock, the sky was already pitch black.

Outside, the cold wind howled. Just finishing work, Ha Yue walked briskly out of the factory gate, carrying her laptop bag in one hand and two takeout boxes from the cafeteria in the other, rushing to catch the commuter bus.

Most employees at the auto parts factory worked in three shifts, and the commuter buses ran six times a day between the staff dormitories and the factory. At this moment, the bus was parked at a station 100 meters away, waiting for the day-shift workers to finish their shifts.

On the way to the bus stop, an elderly woman with gray hair and a stooped back was approaching passersby, trying to sell dried goods she had prepared at home this year.

As the winter solstice approached, the biting cold seeped through layers of clothing, piercing straight into the bones. The harsh winds made every extra second outdoors unbearable. Many employees kept their heads down, ignoring her entirely, waving her off as they hurried into the bus.

Ha Yue’s teeth chattered in the wind, but as she passed the old woman’s stall, she noticed that the woman wasn’t even wearing gloves, and there weren’t many dried goods left in her bamboo basket. She paused, stamping her feet to keep warm, and asked, “Grandma, how much are these?”

At the sound of Ha Yue’s inquiry, the old woman immediately flashed a toothless grin. “Cheap! Young lady, I’ll give you a good deal. Buy some!”

“All right, weigh it all for me, and let’s see how much it comes to,” Ha Yue replied.

Realizing Ha Yue intended to buy everything, the old woman recognized the kindness behind the gesture. As she hesitantly poured the dried sea buckthorn berries into a bag, she couldn’t help but add, “You probably haven’t seen these before. You can’t eat them dry. You have to soak them in water or add them to stews. They’re bitter and astringent—no sugar added. Not sweet at all.”

Here, the old woman grew anxious that Ha Yue might change her mind and quickly sped up the bagging process, her shriveled lips producing a booming voice like a gong: “But they’re good for your health! We eat them at home—I eat them, and so do my grandchildren! I’m not lying!”

Ha Yue smiled, picked up the bamboo basket to help her, and took out her phone to scan the payment QR code hanging from the woman’s chest. Nodding, she reassured her: “I know what sea buckthorn is. There used to be plenty of it here when I was a kid. By September, the roadsides and fields would be covered with it.”

Sea buckthorn belongs to the shrub family and is known for its drought resistance and ability to withstand sandstorms, making it suitable for survival in saline-alkali soil. Like seabuckthorn, jujube trees, tamarisk, and wormwood, it has been widely used in northwest China’s windbreak and desertification control projects.

Decades ago, Suicheng also followed national policies and actively implemented soil stabilization efforts. Sea buckthorn thrived across the entire region. By late summer, clusters of orange-yellow and reddish-brown fruits hung beneath lush green leaves, ripening beautifully. Before they were fully mature, greedy children would pluck them eagerly.

Each small cluster could yield dozens of pearl-sized sea buckthorn berries, which were sour and slightly bitter. Every part of the fruit, from the peel to the seed, had medicinal properties—relieving coughs and asthma, aiding digestion, and stimulating appetite. However, eating too many could cause acid reflux.

In recent years, as desertification in northwest China improved and living conditions became better, people had access to a wide variety of juicy, sweet fruits. No one bothered picking sea buckthorn by the roadside anymore. Gradually, due to urban planning, large numbers of sea buckthorn plants were cut down, becoming increasingly rare along roads and fields.

“Oh, so you know! It really is a good thing. But young people these days don’t recognize it anymore. My son says he won’t let me plant it next year—he wants to cut down our sea buckthorn and replace it with fruit trees. Our daughter-in-law is pregnant again, and we need the money.” The old woman handed the plastic bag to Ha Yue, and upon seeing her take out her phone, she quickly covered the QR code on her chest, standing on tiptoe anxiously. “Young lady, do you have cash? If you do, could you pay with cash? This QR code belongs to my son’s WeChat…”

“If you scan this, the money will go directly to him… I’ve been out here all day, and I haven’t sold much…”

By the end of her explanation, the old woman seemed a little embarrassed about secretly saving pocket money from her children and grandchildren. Out of the corner of her eye, Ha Yue noticed the commuter bus was almost full, but she didn’t mind. Quickly closing her WeChat app, she pulled out cash from her wallet and handed it to the woman.

Carrying five pounds of dried sea buckthorn berries, Ha Yue stuffed the crumpled bills into her pocket, bit down on her gloves, and managed to squeeze onto the last empty seat in the back row just before the bus departed.

Placing her belongings by her feet, Ha Yue sniffed and put her gloves back on. As the bus started moving, she turned her head to look back. The old woman’s slowly retreating figure quickly became a blurry black dot, impossible to follow with her eyes.

The commuter bus jolted along, slowly swaying its way to the dormitory area. As the vehicle rocked back and forth, Ha Yue’s thoughts drifted to her childhood.

The sour and astringent sea buckthorn berries gleamed in her memories, sparking a bold idea in her mind.

After getting off the bus, Ha Yue carried her things toward the dormitory building where she was temporarily staying. As she climbed the stairs, she couldn’t help but laugh while weighing the dried fruit in her hand. The old woman had indeed given her a good deal—five pounds of dried sea buckthorn berries not only weren’t short on weight, but were actually much heavier than expected. By the time she reached the fourth floor, her right hand was already aching from the strain.

It must have been six or seven pounds.

Unlocking the door with her key, Ha Yue’s heart raced with excitement. Without even eating dinner, she sat down at the desk and opened her laptop to conduct preliminary market research on the idea that had just popped into her head.

For half an hour, her eyes remained glued to the screen as she sifted through literature and agricultural reports. Her progress was briefly interrupted by a red notification in her email inbox.

There was a time difference between her international clients and her local time zone. After opening her email and glancing over the messages on her website backend, she realized how excited she had been—she hadn’t even taken off her coat when she entered the room. With the dorm heated to 28 degrees Celsius, she was drenched in sweat under her heavy winter gear, and after a full day running around the factory, her body reeked of machine oil. She decided to take a quick hot shower before eating and continuing her work.

After a ten-minute shower, Ha Yue put on a short-sleeved shirt but still felt her cheeks burning with heat. She didn’t bother drying her hair, letting the water drip from her strands onto her shoulders. She brewed a cup of soaked sea buckthorn berries and placed it by the entrance, then began systematically replying to her clients’ emails.

Following the news of domestic reopening, previously dormant clients suddenly sprang up like mushrooms after rain. Her two hands and ten fingers weren’t enough to keep up with the influx.

Whether to attend an exhibition abroad after completing the first batch of orders in Suicheng was one issue; traveling south to Yuecheng to reconnect with small suppliers she had previously worked with was another matter entirely.

At this point, she was stretched thin. On top of handling follow-up tasks, though her company hadn’t yet turned a profit, she was overwhelmed trying to manage everything alone. Perhaps it was time to expand her team and hire a few employees to join her entrepreneurial journey.

So when Xue Jing, after driving over a hundred kilometers with twists and turns, finally knocked on her dormitory door, Ha Yue was chewing her food while her mind was fully consumed by business matters.

After confirming through the peephole that it was indeed Xue Jing outside, Ha Yue opened the door without so much as a glance at him and immediately returned to her chair, furiously typing away on her computer.

On the way here, Xue Jing had imagined countless romantic “short separation makes the heart grow fonder” scenarios. In every version he envisioned, Ha Yue would be surprised and delighted, and in her joy, she would shower him with affection.

But now, standing at the doorway holding a large bouquet of white roses, he was completely dumbfounded. It was as if a small animal had closed its eyes and tilted its head upward, expecting its owner to pat it, only to open its eyes and find no one there.

Not only did Ha Yue show no signs of surprise, but she didn’t even seem curious about why he had suddenly appeared at her door. Forget passionate kisses or warm embraces—she didn’t even spare him a glance.

After standing awkwardly outside for two minutes, he finally called out to her: “Hey!”

Startled by his voice, Ha Yue glanced back at Xue Jing, muttered, “Well, come in,” and immediately returned her attention to the screen. Typing rapidly, she spoke with practiced multitasking: “Hungry? I knew you wouldn’t have eaten, so I bought two boxed meals. Yours is warming on the radiator.”

“Drink some water—I made you something good.”

“You’ve never had sea buckthorn before, right? It’s good for your cough. I bought it specially for you after work. Drink more of it, and take the rest of the dried berries home with you.”

Sure enough, there was a boxed meal on the radiator below the window and a cup of murky yellow liquid by the entrance. Xue Jing’s jaw twitched as he reluctantly accepted that his grand plan had failed. He stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and abandoned all pretense, tossing the flowers onto the table. He gulped down the slightly sour warm water, his stomach rumbling. Before digging into the meal, he couldn’t resist leaning over to ask her, “Wait, how did you know I was coming?”

“Seriously, Ha Yue, do you have a tracker on me or something? Are you some kind of radar?”

Ha Yue finished eating, set down her chopsticks, wiped her lips with a napkin, and pulled his face down to her level by the back of his neck. She planted a loud smooch on his lips, then pushed him away and went back to staring at the screen. “Do I really need a tracker? You said you were busy when I tried to video call you earlier.”

“And when I asked what you were doing, you were all evasive.”

That wasn’t all. Before she even reached the cafeteria, he had sent her a series of vague voice messages, beating around the bush, until he finally asked her for the exact room number of her dormitory again.

“Xue Jing, I’ve discovered that you’re kind of clueless when you’re in love. Didn’t you hear the background noise in your own messages? The sound of your turn signals was clearly audible.”

Driving here hadn’t been easy. Many roads near the industrial park weren’t updated on maps, so Ha Yue had guessed he’d arrive late at night. That’s why she had bought two boxed meals in advance.

As she spoke, Ha Yue pushed his chest aside, spotted the bouquet behind him, and giggled, poking his abdomen with her finger. “Wow, such a big bunch of flowers! Anyone would think you’re here to propose.”

Ha Yue was joking, of course. Who proposes within the first week of reconciling after a breakup? This wasn’t some lighthearted rom-com about marriage-obsessed characters.

But Xue Jing was flustered. He snapped, “What?! I didn’t propose!” His ears turned bright red.

He instinctively backed away, covering the inner pocket where he had hidden the ring box. Only when his fingers brushed against it did he realize how rushed his actions seemed. Stiffening his neck, he retorted, “I’m not clueless! There was traffic, and I was worried about taking the wrong road!”

“Who’s like you? Are you dating or conducting a criminal investigation? Can’t you stop being so clever for once? Seriously.”

As the client on the other side of the screen sent another message, Ha Yue turned her attention back to her laptop. Her tone softened, as if she were soothing a child: “Aren’t you hot? Your face is all red. Take off your clothes and eat first, then take a shower. Look at you—did you leave the car vents open the whole way here? Your face is covered in dust.”

“Huh?” The moment Ha Yue finished speaking, Xue Jing rushed to the bathroom to check the mirror. Sure enough, after following coal trucks for most of the journey, his nails were filled with black grime. Great. All his efforts to look good had gone to waste. This plan was truly a complete disaster.

Xue Jing splashed water on his face, scrubbed his nails with soap bubbles, took off his coat, and returned to sit behind Ha Yue, utterly dejected. He opened his boxed meal and began eating in silence.

About twenty minutes later, Ha Yue finished her work, stretched lazily, and picked up the bouquet of flowers, inhaling their scent deeply. Without looking at her, Xue Jing tidied up the food wrappers, tied the trash bag securely, and tossed it outside before heading into the bathroom to turn on the shower.

Ha Yue placed the flowers on the bedside table and leaned against the bathroom doorframe, watching him undress. Still smiling mischievously, she teased him in a sing-song voice, “Are you mad because I called you dumb?”

Xue Jing removed his shirt, revealing his abs. He glanced at her through the mirror, then bent down to take off his pants. Though he secretly enjoyed being teased by her, he stubbornly retorted, “How could I be mad? My girlfriend is so smart—I’m thrilled! I’m thinking of sending her to the police academy next year to further her education.”

“Oh, really? Well, as long as you’re not mad, why are you ignoring me?”

After tossing his pants onto the hanger, Xue Jing furrowed his brow and muttered sullenly, “You ignored me too. You didn’t even ask why I came. You don’t care about me at all.”

More importantly, she hadn’t hugged him or given him a passionate kiss. That quick peck felt more like a perfunctory stamp, and she even criticized him for having dirt on his face.

“Mm, how can I not be curious? So why did you come? Don’t tell me you got excited after seeing me wear a hard hat and work uniform during our video call earlier. Tsk tsk, Xue Jing, you really have some unusual tastes.”

“Isn’t your preference a bit… extreme?”

Ha Yue was still smiling. When she was carefree, her smile was genuinely beautiful. Watching her joke around made him want to laugh along, so he playfully admitted with a smirk: “Yes, yes, fine. I came here to sleep with you, okay? After our video call at noon, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I was completely obsessed. Where’s your hard hat? Did you bring it back from the factory? Don’t waste time—put it on and come here already.”

“I can’t wait any longer.”