TPIL - 48

In a memory long buried under layers of dust, their base was an abandoned warehouse at a construction site. The boss slurped mung bean soup from an enamel bowl, then shoved fried noodles into his mouth with his bare hands. Chewing loudly, he shouted toward the sun-baked open space outside the door.

“You’ve only ‘earned’ that much? Do you think that’s acceptable? Those new kids call you ‘Big Brother,’ and you’re already trying to cheat me for them. A kid is still a kid.” Mixing slang with dialect, the man skilled at squeezing wealth from gray areas made an example of someone to intimidate others. He barked, “Toad, when you eat noodles, don’t flip the bowl over after finishing what’s inside.”

The boy stood alone under the cascading sunlight outside the eaves. It wasn’t the first time he’d been punished—though more often, he had witnessed others endure this treatment. Usually, they were forced to balance a playing card on their heads, forbidden to bow down, enduring the scorching sun. Starving, drenched in sweat, and beaten the night before, he was now dizzy and disoriented.

“Toad, I’m talking to you. Are you ignoring me?!” If there was anger, it was only surface-level. More importantly, it was a performance for the few new children behind him, teaching them to fend for themselves so they would be easier to control later. The boss tossed the empty bowl toward him.

Even so, the beaten “Toad” didn’t move an inch.

No help would have made any difference. Not long after, the child he had tried to help died—frozen to death after running away during the New Year. No one expressed anything beyond complaints about it.

As usual, the boss and his wife took him back to their hometown for the New Year’s Eve dinner. The boss’s mother made excellent dumplings and occasionally even gave him a small red envelope with a few coins. Who knew if the elderly woman realized how her son made money in the city? When firecrackers exploded outside, the boss’s wife once looked at him and said, “In the blink of an eye, Toad has grown up so much. If our son were still alive…”

Seeing his wife wipe away tears, the boss laughed, “Bad luck! Toad is like one of our own.”

At first glance, it seemed harmonious.

But afterward, outside the interrogation room, he identified the couple who organized their begging operation, revealing every detail without hesitation.

After entering the orphanage, aside from the director and the caregivers, he avoided interacting with others. Thanks to his strategic feigned illness, those around him were sick orphans. If he were a normal child of that age, he might have given up long ago, but he wasn’t like that. Moreover, he was soon enrolled in school, commuting between school and the orphanage without much trouble.

In fact, more adults than expected considered adopting him.

Initially, he needed to overcome years of malnutrition, but after recovering somewhat, thanks to his unknown biological parents, he did have a presentable face. Most importantly, his quiet demeanor made him appealing. That year, during a welfare inspection in the region, he was transferred to an orphanage in the city. The children who screamed, threw things at themselves, or exhibited dangerous behavior were relocated elsewhere.

At first, a foreign couple from somewhere in California wanted to adopt him, but an outbreak of a contagious virus abruptly ended the process.

Later, a pair of journalists came. He stayed with them for a while, but they seemed hurt by his pragmatic approach to emotions, so that plan fell through as well.

Then, a couple working as a driver and housemaid appeared.

The gentle calls of the flight attendant failed to rouse him. Hearing the noise, his secretary couldn’t bear it any longer and stepped forward. With an apologetic smile, he dismissed the attendant, then gently shook Qi Xiaochuan’s arm: “Boss, boss.”

Qi Xiaochuan woke suddenly, fatigue imprinted on the inner walls of his skull, throbbing faintly. He raised his hand, pressed it against his forehead, and asked, “Are we there?”

Facing his rare moment of confusion, the secretary chuckled lightly and reminded him: “We still have a few hours. You didn’t sleep well earlier, and the flight attendant came to check if you felt unwell.”

He shook his head, denying it. Rationality returned, and he immediately began asking about work matters.

Qi Xiaochuan had merely dreamed of the past.

After leaving the airport, he went straight to the company, continuing to work overtime despite the disrupted sleep he had on the plane. His secretary had once earnestly asked him, “Why do we work ourselves to death?” To which he seriously replied, “Because we’re not dead yet.”

Seeing that his secretary still had family—albeit his girlfriend’s—he sent him home early. Qi Xiaochuan continued working for a while, then slept in the rest area. After freshening up in the morning, he ran on the treadmill in the gym upstairs, checked the time, and then made time to visit Paradise Handicrafts.

He went to return the knitting needles. The woolen hat was finished; he had completed it in the car. For a while, he sat there in a daze, his mind filled with questions: “Is it really that simple? This easy? Just this simple?!” He couldn’t help but feel he didn’t need to enroll in classes. He could teach himself at home, film with a digital camera, edit the footage, and upload it online to become a crafting YouTuber. He could compete with global handicraft stores, sell online courses, and become the pioneer of internet-based manual skills promotion.

Thinking along these lines, those people who worked hard to earn money and then spent it all on healing didn’t seem so irrational. At least they could create wealth for him.

He walked into the store, but Luo Andi wasn’t there. Qi Xiaochuan didn’t necessarily need to see her, so he quickly returned the tools and prepared to leave.

A peculiar voice called out from behind: “Brother Qi!”

It had been years since anyone had addressed him like that. Qi Xiaochuan turned his head, narrowing his eyes slightly in suspicion. After experiences akin to Kennedy and Qin Shi Huang, his defenses against strangers had risen higher than ever.

However, Zhu Peijie quickly corrected herself, using a more modern term: “Mr. Qi.”

“Oh, Zhu Peijie.” Qi Xiaochuan remembered her name. He recalled the names, hometowns, and guarantors of everyone from the women’s clothing store. His impeccable memory never troubled him. “Hello.”

Zhu Peijie asked, “You… are you also a member of this store?”

Before he could answer, the shopkeeper behind the counter interjected with a smile: “Mr. Qi is a regular here. His skills are excellent, and his work is often displayed in the center of the commemorative wall. Even Manager Andi says he’s impressive.”

Even being praised by economic journals or interviewed as CEO hadn’t made Qi Xiaochuan smirk with such self-satisfaction.

After silently boasting, he didn’t bother with formalities. Nodding slightly, he prepared to leave. A new intern stationed by the door attentively held it open for him, respectfully thanking him. But Zhu Peijie chased after him.

She hadn’t intended to say anything, but she remembered a day when the woman smiled and said, “That’s wonderful,” her beauty tinged with a hint of sadness. Zhu Peijie’s breathing gradually calmed, and she asked, “Mr. Qi, would you like to grab a cup of tea?”

Qi Xiaochuan looked at her, his jacket draped over his arm. He frowned slightly—not because of anything else, just the sunlight was too glaring: “I’m busy. Maybe next time.”

She pursed her lips, enunciating each word with effort: “When will you be free? Can I treat you to tea?”

That subtle expression reminded him of Luo Andi, and Qi Xiaochuan’s demeanor softened unconsciously. He said, “No need. Thank you.”

“Mm, mm.” Zhu Peijie nodded vigorously. Looking up again, she was still smiling. “Then, take care.”

“All right.” He replied.

Qi Xiaochuan turned to leave, but Zhu Peijie called out to him one last time. Unexpectedly, she asked, “Mr. Qi, do you know Miss Luo Andi? The current manager of this store.”

Qi Xiaochuan didn’t answer but turned squarely to face her, his gaze silently probing.

“I assume you do. Xiao Ruo from the store told me.” Women’s intuition was incredibly sharp, especially in matters of emotion, though sometimes it was the source of heartbreak. Zhu Peijie continued, “I met her at ‘Paradise.’ She once hired me to design business cards, so we met privately. During our chat, she mentioned going out with someone, but said that person was hard to figure out.”

“…”

She swallowed and continued: “I was surprised, truly surprised. Because usually, Miss Luo observes and cares for others so well. How could there be someone she doesn’t understand? But after thinking about it, I realized it wasn’t impossible.

“When you like someone, you desperately want your feelings reciprocated, but you’re unsure. It’s like caring too much makes you lose perspective. That’s why it feels confusing.”

Suddenly spilling such heartfelt words made her blush awkwardly. Zhu Peijie lowered her head further, struggling to change the subject: “Anyway, what I mean is… a few weeks ago, I saw Miss Luo outside a supermarket with a man. He snatched her umbrella and left rudely—it was so uncivilized…”

Qi Xiaochuan stared at her, unsure if he had heard everything. After a while, he burst into laughter. It was the first time Zhu Peijie had seen such a smile from him. “You’re a bit strange,” he said, “but it’s nice.”

She watched his retreating figure. Compared to years ago, Qi Xiaochuan hadn’t changed much—at least, not in her eyes. Zhu Peijie stood there for a long time, savoring what felt like the only love of her life. Falling in love was masochistic, though she couldn’t stop it. She wouldn’t do anything stupid to hurt herself anymore, nor let important people hurt her. Looking ahead, stepping into tomorrow. Unrequited love ended in solitude. She accepted this years-long, grand heartbreak.

When Qi Xiaochuan returned home, Luo Andi wasn’t there. He sent her a message and received a reply almost immediately. She was at his parents’ house.

Just as in the world-famous tragedy Oedipus Rex , eighty percent of fathers are their sons’ enemies—a statistic that can’t be guaranteed. But at least for Qi Xiaochuan, he occasionally felt the urge to fight his father when he was younger. Their arguments generally resembled the father-son dynamic in Initial D —Takumi’s father would beat him mercilessly, and Takumi, with a defiant look, would act like he was about to do something big. After much deliberation, he’d only knock his father’s photo off the table. A tiger’s roar paired with Hello Kitty’s timidity.

Qi Xiaochuan ordered the driver to drift back, but the driver strictly obeyed traffic laws, delivering him to his parents’ home.

Upon entering, he first spotted his father tending to the vegetable patch, then headed upstairs.

The terrace window was open, white curtains billowing inward. He approached and saw her gripping the brim of her sunhat to keep it from being blown away.

Luo Andi turned around, her curls framing her delicate face. He couldn’t help but step closer, brushing aside the unruly strands obstructing his view. She didn’t mind, tilting her head and smiling. Her breath was always warm, perfectly complementing her kind, sparkling eyes, never betraying a hint of emotional fluctuation.

He leaned his cheek close to her ear, no real contact, just a fleeting brush.

Qi Xiaochuan had never imagined anything specific about Luo Andi, but she constantly left impressions on others—gentle, cute, refined, poised. These were just possibilities, so her occasional defiance didn’t violate principles. It seemed as though she leaned toward him, but he pulled away.

“I have something to tell you,” Qi Xiaochuan said.