TIL - 9

Qiu Mingyun woke up, her eyes swollen, her lips dry with a bit of skin hanging off. She looked a bit rough, but her overall state wasn’t too bad.

Wen Huo poured her a glass of water: “I brought you breakfast. Eat something.”

Qiu Mingyun couldn’t eat, not even drinking the water Wen Huo offered: “What time is it?”

Wen Huo had just checked: “Half past seven.”

Qiu Mingyun still had class and quickly scrambled up: “I’m going to be late!”

Wen Huo pressed her shoulder: “I’ve asked for leave for you.”

Qiu Mingyun slowly relaxed her shoulders, let out a breath, lay back down, and said with her eyes closed, “Do I look terrible?”

Wen Huo looked at her seriously: “Not bad.”

Qiu Mingyun smiled: “I’d never hear you say anything bad about how I look.”

Wen Huo said: “I would say if it was bad, but you really do look okay.”

Qiu Mingyun opened her eyes: “Really?”

Wen Huo said: “I remember when I was in middle school, a classmate was provoked and jumped off a building. When he landed, he was hit by a bus and his head went straight through the windshield, facing inwards.”

Qiu Mingyun’s smile turned bitter: “Are you hoping that happens to me?”

Wen Huo said: “I’m telling you, that classmate died. He scared a passenger to death and terrified the driver, causing the driver to step on the gas pedal, crashing into a private car. A five-year-old child in the private car was eating a tanghulu (candied hawthorn stick), and the wooden skewer pierced through his head, killing him instantly. My classmate’s parents had to endure the pain of losing their child, sell their house and land to raise compensation, and then kowtow to these victims, begging for forgiveness.”

Qiu Mingyun frowned.

Wen Huo sat down and handed her the water again: “That’s what ‘bad’ looks like.”

Qiu Mingyun took the water, pursed her lips, and said something dramatic: “Thanks.”

Wen Huo stood up, picked up her bag: “I’m leaving.”

Outside the school gate, Cheng Cuo called.

Wen Huo answered: “Hello.”

Cheng Cuo took off his white coat and locked his studio door: “I’m going to find my cousin later. Do you want me to mention that we know each other?”

Wen Huo walked into the subway station: “Why would I say that?”

Cheng Cuo laughed: “Well, I’ve never had the upper hand with him, have I? I finally have a chance to tease him; I don’t want to miss it.”

Wen Huo entered the station: “Can you have some professional ethics as a doctor?”

When it came to that, Cheng Cuo had no comeback: “Alright, alright, I won’t say anything.”

Wen Huo was about to get on the subway: “Gotta go.”

Cheng Cuo heard the noisy sounds from her end: “Where are you going?”

Wen Huo had received a call from Wen Xinyuan while buying breakfast, saying that Wen Bing’s workplace called him, informing him that Wen Bing might have eaten something bad, throwing up a few times, and asked her to check on Wen Bing at his workplace.

The signal was weak, and Wen Huo’s voice was intermittent. Cheng Cuo thought she had answered but he hadn’t heard, so he asked again: “Where are you going?”

Wen Huo didn’t really want to answer and said vaguely: “To find someone to sleep with.”

Cheng Cuo was about to ask who, but the signal was lost, and the call disconnected.

Wen Bing worked at the Beijing office of Phoenix Weekly, handling incoming documents and commissioning articles. Although he was a bit simple-minded, he was diligent and responsible at work. He would do as he was told.

However, due to the varying nature of human beings, no matter how hard he tried, he was always bullied for being simple. Not bullying the weak was too difficult for some people.

Wen Huo arrived at the office building. Before she even entered, she saw a girl roughly her age throw a box of tissues onto Wen Bing’s desk with a look of disgust. Wen Bing looked up to thank her. The girl thought he was about to throw up again and instinctively jumped back two steps, then covered her mouth and nose.

A cleaner walked by, her gaze no better than the girl’s. She nudged the girl with her elbow and whispered something to her.

Wen Huo saw this scene, calmly brushed her hair back, took out her phone, and turned on the camera.

Then, a woman around thirty-five or thirty-six emerged from an office. She first glanced at her watch, then impatiently said: “Why hasn’t his family arrived yet? The office smells like sour food; how can anyone work?”

Someone told her: “They said his sister will come later.”

The woman grew even more impatient: “Call them again!”

After the woman returned to her office, the girl who threw the tissues started speaking sarcastically again: “Sister picking up brother, this Wen family is quite fresh. I heard his sister is a top student. And with a brother like this, she’s still a top student? How ironic.”

The cleaner chimed in: “Haven’t you seen the news about these young girls now seducing professors? Making professors assign them jobs.”

The girl corrected her: “Auntie, you’re right and wrong. Today’s supervisors and professors don’t guarantee jobs, they guarantee Nature, Northern Core, Southern Core publications. Publishing one article elevates you several ranks, and it only requires one night’s sleep. Who wouldn’t do it?”

As they were chatting animatedly, a woman with silver hair, a bun, and wearing a work uniform walked over: “Can you two stop gossiping?”

The cleaner and the girl exchanged glances and dispersed.

The woman in the work uniform put a new trash bag in Wen Bing’s wastebasket and said, “Why don’t you go to the restroom? It really is affecting people’s work here.”

Wen Huo saved the video, put away her phone, and walked through the door.

Wen Bing was about to agree with the woman in the work uniform, but then he saw Wen Huo and smiled.

The woman in the work uniform followed his gaze to Wen Huo, nodded, said nothing, and walked away.

Wen Huo pulled out a tissue, squatted down, and wiped the vomit from the corner of Wen Bing’s mouth: “Let’s go home, brother.”

Wen Bing wasn’t in a hurry. He took a glass lunchbox from his desk drawer. Inside was Suzao meat (a type of stewed meat). He said: “Sister, eat this. I know you like this best. Dad doesn’t usually make it, but he made it this morning, and I didn’t eat a single bite.”

Wen Huo stared at the box of meat and slowly said: “Then what did you eat this morning?”

Wen Bing said: “I ate fried geluozi at the Qianmen Tower, and a bowl of tofu pudding.”

Wen Huo frowned.

Wen Bing couldn’t eat soy products; he would throw up if he did.

Wen Huo took the meat, put it into her bag filled with books, not caring if there was oil on the lunchbox. “Let’s go, home.”

As she helped Wen Bing out the door, she casually sent the video she had just filmed to the email address of the neighboring magazine agency.

________________________________________

Shen Cheng hadn’t closed his window when he slept last night, causing his arm to catch a draft. He didn’t seem unwell at work in the morning, but he knew his own state, so he took a break at noon to sit in the tea room below his office, to enjoy some incense and relax.

Cheng Cuo came to find him, throwing him a brown paper bag: “Here, the psychological examination reports for your firm’s employees.”

Shen Cheng put down his teacup: “Is that worth a special trip from you?”

Cheng Cuo didn’t speak, sitting opposite him and observing him. He couldn’t understand why his cousin, with a beautiful actress wife at home, still wasn’t satisfied and was having an affair.

At that moment, Shen Cheng’s assistant brought him something.

Cheng Cuo was curious: “What is it?”

Shen Cheng took out a box. Opening it revealed a leather watch case.

Cheng Cuo knew: “A watch?”

Shen Cheng unclasped the case, and indeed, it was a watch with a tourbillon movement.

Cheng Cuo recognized the watch case as Breguet, from the Marine collection, but the strap was white and the bezel had shattered diamonds. That meant it was for a woman. It was either his cousin’s wife or Wen Huo. He asked, feigning ignorance: “Who’s it for?”

Shen Cheng grew increasingly annoyed looking at the watch; she didn’t deserve it. He threw it directly to Cheng Cuo: “It’s for you.”

Cheng Cuo was flattered. Although the watch was only around 300,000 yuan, not expensive, Shen Cheng’s attitude of throwing it away like trash genuinely startled him. Was he treating money like dirt? “Really?”

Shen Cheng’s mind was filled with the words Wen Huo had said to him. He was not in the mood for tea and stood up, walking out.

Cheng Cuo figured he might as well take it, as it would be good to give to his girlfriend, so he accepted it. But he didn’t just take it. He seemingly casually reminded Shen Cheng: “Speaking of this watch, a friend stood me up today because she was going to find someone to sleep with. You know, how can someone be so clueless? No integrity at all. And a Tsinghua graduate student, and a physics goddess, and publishing in journals! This prioritizing of pleasure over friendship.”

Shen Cheng stopped in his tracks, turned around, and stared at him.

Cheng Cuo felt unnerved by his gaze: “What?”

Shen Cheng said nothing. As he turned, he made a call: “Cancel my afternoon flight.”

Cheng Cuo touched his forehead, praying devoutly: “Go, Wen Huo.”