Psst! We're moving!
Although Zheng Zeyan later tried to forget that address, he found himself inexplicably remembering the string of numbers as if memorizing it had been meant for this very day. His heart raced higher and higher, almost reaching his throat, while his mind kept repeating: It can’t be, it can’t be—she’s just up to her usual pranks.
Shi Rui had set up camp on the second floor, and every morning, the sound of her vomiting carried into Xia Ma Ge’s room. In his dream, Xia Ma Ge was earnestly searching for his girlfriend when he heard the retching next door. He sprayed his endless supply of Montblanc cologne into the hallway: “Good grief, either go home already or stop freeloading in my house.”
Xia Ma Ge realized Shi Rui no longer cared about trivial details. The girl who once obsessed over every little thing, fearing a single misstep would render her unmarriageable, now coughed up phlegm, rinsed her mouth loudly, slurped water, and occasionally wandered onto the balcony in her underwear—a sight he caught from the shortcut through the neighboring compound. It shocked him enough to make him look twice. He couldn’t understand why marriage caused such a collapse in a woman’s mindset. Especially when he compared Shi Rui to Yu Zhimei and He Jie, the latter seemed far more endearing with their spirited demeanor. Not to mention how annoying it was to hear Shi Rui sobbing on the phone through the wall.
Yet he couldn’t help but care—after all, if something happened to a pregnant woman in his house, it would disrupt his feng shui and ruin his rental business, both of which were crucial matters for Xia Ma Ge. Without the Miaolin Dessert Shop, he called on He Jie to visit Jian Zhaowen on the third floor. Lately, everyone had gone quiet, leaving him feeling stranded in a parallel universe.
Jian Zhaowen had only left the keys with Xia Ma Ge, and the weeds on the third-floor terrace had grown wild. Xia Ma Ge also received a call from Yu Zhimei: “Xia Ma Ge, I’ve rented a place in Beijing too. Could you keep an eye on the cats upstairs for me?”
“Huh?”
“If the cat food runs out, I’ll send you money. Sorry for the trouble.”
“What’s going on between you and Jian Zhaowen?”
“Nothing, just busy.” Yu Zhimei hung up before Xia Ma Ge could ask more. Confused and uneasy, Xia Ma Ge didn’t even have time to discuss Shi Rui: “What’s up with Yu Zhimei and Brother Jian? Living apart like this—are they breaking up?”
He Jie’s expression turned strange: “Don’t jump to conclusions.”
“They say they can’t handle a long-distance relationship, but who can? Yu Zhimei disappears for half a month at a time, and Jian Zhaowen is the boss of a startup company. She doesn’t even know how to compromise.”
“Expecting Yu Zhimei to compromise? Impossible. They’re both too focused on their careers—they need to win at everything.” He Jie, the only one who knew the contents of the farewell dinner, glanced around the room, preparing to change the subject.
“Why bother so much? Isn’t it more comfortable to spend your husband’s money after marriage?” Shi Rui popped a mint into her mouth in surprise: “Yu Zhimei doesn’t understand this principle. Just take control of your husband’s money, stop working, and if he cheats, as long as you don’t divorce, turn a blind eye. That’s how men are. Only you, He Jie, would give up a stable marriage for some elusive true love. If it were me, I’d endure it.”
“And you still manage to throw shade at me.” Ou Jinghe refused to back down: “While you’re here acting like you’re under pregnancy surveillance.”
Xia Ma Ge grew curious: “Come to think of it, Shi Rui, why did you suddenly come back to stay here? Your husband has returned to Northeast China to develop his career, so why haven’t you followed him? Why are you still in Shanghai, taking care of your pregnancy alone?”
Shi Rui stopped responding, stood up to fetch the kettle, and said: “I’m a bit tired. You two should go back and rest early.”
A few days later, Xia Ma Ge called He Jie, enthusiastically discussing Shi Rui’s gossip. While swinging dumbbells by the windowsill, Xia Ma Ge heard Shi Rui crying on the phone next door. He immediately put down the dumbbells and leaned out the window to listen. From what he gathered, not long after their marriage, Jiang Lei discovered Shi Rui’s “past.” Following the trail, he found the matchmaking forum where her assault had been boasted about by the perpetrator; during a dinner with a rich second-generation heir, the man casually mentioned sleeping with girls, including his own wife. Feeling deceived, Jiang Lei couldn’t accept it. Xia Ma Ge spoke rapidly in Shanghainese on the phone: “I never realized she had so many secrets. I always thought she was cunning and calculating—I never imagined it was because of all these stories! Good grief, this huge scandal—I can’t hold it in! How can I, as a landlord, keep this to myself…”
Ou Jinghe was waiting for the arrival of the psychological aid team. Though unsurprised, her heart still raced: “Goodness, enduring so much suffering—how does she bear it?”
“She left her phone on speaker. It sounds like she wants a divorce, but she’s waiting to see if the baby is a boy or a girl.”
“That’s outrageous. Is it still about favoring boys over girls?”
“No, but it seems like they’re renovating the house. Her parents will live in one unit, and they’ll live in another. If it’s a boy, they’ll live in the bigger unit; if it’s a girl, the smaller one.”
“So it’s still favoring boys over girls.” Ou Jinghe slammed her coffee cup onto the table: “I’m going to talk to Shi Rui. She’s pregnant, yet she kicked us out. Is she planning to self-destruct in that room?”
After picking up milk and seasonal fruits from the import supermarket, Ou Jinghe used her key to unlock Shi Rui’s door. She felt an uncontrollable wellspring of kindness rising within her. Back when she ran the dessert shop, she barely spared Shi Rui a glance. Now, Shi Rui lay in bed with red, swollen eyes, instinctively shielding her face when she saw Ou Jinghe. Without looking at her, Ou Jinghe turned toward the kitchen: “Let me borrow your knife—I bought some fruit.”
“You’re here to…”
“When you’re pregnant and living alone, you can’t possibly do everything yourself. You probably eat irregularly, right? When I ran the dessert shop, despite being the boss, I handled meals for the employees myself. Sometimes, when I was bored, I’d order takeout, but waiting too long made me fall asleep hungry—I imagine it’s the same for you.”
“Being pregnant makes me so sleepy, I hardly feel like moving.” Shi Rui was already five or six months along, her belly noticeably pointed. According to her former mother-in-law, this was a sign of carrying a boy. But Ou Jinghe, determined to dispel superstitions, held her tongue and simply told Shi Rui: “Eat this small bread first.”
The bread came from a nearby restaurant, stuffed with char siu and still warm from the journey. As Shi Rui devoured it behind her, Ou Jinghe pretended to chat casually while probing gently: “Why did you move back to Shanghai? Didn’t you already follow him to Northeast China?”
“We had a falling-out. He wasn’t used to it, and I couldn’t stand him either. It’s not easy to find work in the Northeast, so I spent my days studying for the civil service exam.”
“You seemed to enjoy that kind of laid-back work.”
“But going back there meant being scolded by him all the time.”
Shi Rui avoided discussing the heavier topics and began describing her brief life in Northeast China. Her mother-in-law had eagerly helped with housework, even washing her son’s underwear, while her father-in-law cooked a table full of northern dishes without considering that his daughter-in-law disliked garlic. Jiang Lei, her husband, would vent his anger on her whenever something went wrong, even if it wasn’t her fault. Ou Jinghe listened intently, her knife growing sharper in her hand. Shi Rui leaned against the doorframe, still talking: “It’s not just that he can’t stand me—I can’t stand him either. His mother brags about her son every day: a master’s degree from a prestigious university who returned home to become a leader. Even when they’re not in the same city, she drives over for meals on weekends or takes a bus to visit us. For events like the third anniversary of her grandmother’s passing, she insists Jiang Lei come along, saying it’s to absorb the good feng shui from the ancestral grave. All my weekends were spent dealing with them.”
“Oh, so he’s a modern-day mama’s boy.”
Shi Rui rummaged around the room for sunflower seeds, spitting out the shells as she spoke—already embodying the mannerisms of a chatty housewife: “He’s no saint either. After returning, he had more social engagements, but his work hours were light. His phone was filled with things he didn’t want me to see.”
“What did you find?”
“I found plenty! He deleted all his chat records, leaving only the professional ones. But I checked his WeChat red packet history—he sent one to a girl on Valentine’s Day for 1,314 yuan. And he lied to me, saying he was helping a new colleague from out of town find housing. When he didn’t come home for dinner that night, I checked his phone the next day. That colleague hadn’t even messaged him, but I found movie tickets and hot pot expenses on Alipay—he went to the movies and ate hot pot with a female coworker. Red packets on WeChat are signs of flirtation; different purchases in Ant Forest mean different points; closeness levels in Honor of Kings are solid evidence.” Shi Rui said smugly: “I have a hundred ways to catch infidelity.”
“And you put up with this?”
Shi Rui pouted: “I’m the rightful wife.”
That statement made Ou Jinghe uncomfortable. She shook off the goosebumps rising on her arms: “Why endure? Just get a divorce. Raising a child alone isn’t that bad.”
“No, he’s very career-driven—it’s just these little issues…”
“Don’t make excuses for him. He hasn’t visited you in so long—is work really that busy?”
“He still calls me two or three times a week.”
“So why did he drive you here and lie to me?” Seeing Shi Rui clench her teeth and refuse to admit anything, an exasperated Ou Jinghe threw up her hands: “Enough. I won’t say another word. I won’t scold him on your behalf anymore, nor will I side with you. You and your damn husband are clearly on the same team. Once you reunite, you’ll turn around and bite me, accusing me of sowing discord.” Ou Jinghe boiled water: “Where’s your cup?”
Shi Rui pointed to the cup on her bedside table.
“Do you feel like eating mango?”
“No, I don’t have an appetite.”
“The mangoes this season are still good. Let me peel some for you.” Seeing Shi Rui nod, Ou Jinghe skillfully cut the mango into halves and scored it with a crisscross pattern. Though she rarely cooked, she enjoyed the process when she was alone and craving snacks. Coming here was partly because she was lonely during her vacation—the child in Shi Rui’s belly gave her a reason to connect.
After cutting the mango, Ou Jinghe searched around but could only find one fork. She intended to share it with Shi Rui, but when Shi Rui saw that Ou Jinghe had already used it, she carefully picked it up with her fingers. It slipped and fell back into the bowl, leaving her flustered as she awkwardly fished it out. Ou Jinghe reached for a napkin, but Shi Rui only grabbed one corner of it without offering thanks. Something felt off to Ou Jinghe, so she probed again: “Can I have a sip of your water?” Without waiting for an answer, she picked up Shi Rui’s cup.
“I’ll find another cup for you…” Shi Rui’s hand froze halfway as she met Ou Jinghe’s gaze. The woman before her erupted in anger: “Oh, Shi Rui, do you look down on me? Am I some kind of plague in your eyes? Is it better to be married than divorced and dating? Fine, I’ll pray for you to give birth soon so your husband can come pick you up, and you can stop being a modern-day mama’s boy.” With that, she stood up to leave.
“He Jie, that’s not what I meant.”
“Can’t I see through you?” Ou Jinghe put on her coat, feeling a deep sadness. Even a girl from a small town could look down on her after marriage. How foolish must she be to waste her vacation hours visiting her?
Shi Rui suddenly lunged forward and hugged Ou Jinghe tightly: “He Jie, He Jie, I was wrong. I judged you unfairly…”
Ou Jinghe softened. Whether it was pettiness or intolerance, they were both women at the end of the day. As Shi Rui hugged her, she suddenly started crying: “He Jie… What if Jiang Lei divorces me? I can’t raise a child alone. If I go back home with the child, my mother will force me to remarry. In a small city, no one will want a divorced woman like me. It’s bound to happen…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Ou Jinghe said firmly. “I’ll help you raise the child. We’ll figure it out. Everyone in this building is still here. Even if Yu Zhimei is gone, we’re still here. Xia Ma Ge won’t leave.”
Shi Rui mumbled quietly but earnestly: “I’m already pregnant. Even if it’s a girl, I absolutely won’t get a divorce.”
________________________________________
After retrieving the household registration book, Zheng Zeyan requested leave to go to the Civil Affairs Bureau. Ou Jinghe suggested taking a nice wedding photo. They chose a Zhongshan suit and a cheongsuit. While waiting in the dressing room for Ou Jinghe to finish her makeup and change, Zheng Zeyan’s phone buzzed—it was his first love, Sister Liang.
“Goodbye, Zheng Zeyan. I won’t cling to you in my next life. Are you happy now?”
Annoyed, Zheng Zeyan turned off the screen and sat on the stool, his face reflecting poorly in the mirror. Ou Jinghe was happily chatting with the makeup artist, completely unaware of his distress. He moved away and opened his phone. Sister Liang’s last social media post was an hour ago, geotagged at 600 Wanping South Road. The caption read: “Thank you, this place. These words are sincere. Today is the last time—I’m going home to say goodbye to this world.”
A sudden panic gripped him. Ou Jinghe was still getting her eyebrows shaped, surrounded by a crowd of people waiting to take photos. Zheng Zeyan stood beside her: “How much longer?”
“About half an hour for the makeup, and an hour to wait in line.”
“That long?”
“Yes, weekdays are better, but usually, it takes two hours.”
This ritualistic hassle was unbearable. Zheng Zeyan turned and walked out: “I need to step out for a bit.”
He knew where Sister Liang lived. Infrequent contact didn’t mean he didn’t know her well. Sister Liang lived in an old apartment near the Yan’an Elevated Road. She had once shown him the property deed to provoke his jealousy. Although Zheng Zeyan later tried to forget the address, he inexplicably remembered the string of numbers, as if memorizing it had been meant for this day. His heart raced higher and higher, almost reaching his throat, while his mind kept repeating: It can’t be, it can’t be—she’s just up to her usual pranks.
When he arrived at the neighborhood, he heard people talking—an ambulance had just arrived. He rushed inside and saw a body being carried out, face covered. Neighbors were murmuring: “Heartbroken over love or depression? Dying at home by charcoal poisoning could’ve killed the neighbors too. Luckily, no one was home…”
Police cars soon followed—a death required investigation. The ambulance, out of humanitarian duty, took the body to the hospital. Before Zheng Zeyan could react, the vehicle had already left. He walked in the direction the ambulance had gone, unable to run or catch up until it disappeared from sight. Then his phone rang. On the other end, Ou Jinghe screamed: “Where the hell are you? I’ve called you ten times, and you didn’t answer! We’re just taking photos—we haven’t even registered yet—and you disappear on me?”
“I’m at Liang Shuyi’s house.” His first love’s name was Liang Shuyi. After all these years, seeing her face covered, he finally addressed her formally.
“Of course. You still care about her. Don’t bother coming today—I’m calling off the wedding. You two can go die together!”
“She’s dead.” Zheng Zeyan came to his senses: “Yes, she’s truly dead.”