Psst! We're moving!
Looking down from the twelfth-floor window, nothing was clear.
Cheng Wanyue closed the window, sat on the sofa for a while before going to take a shower. She propped her sprained foot on a chair, trying not to let the part with the ointment touch the water.
The abrasion on her knee wasn’t serious; it only stung a bit when the soap foam touched it.
With one leg inconvenient to move, she washed slowly. After coming out of the bathroom, she threw the shirt and shorts she had just changed out of into the washing machine.
She let her hair air dry and finished washing the clothes. She hung the shirt on the balcony and sniffed it closely.
The detergent Cheng Yan Qing bought was different from the kind Qing Hang used, and the smell was also different.
She was resting tonight, but her original plan was to go see a performance. When Cheng Yan Qing came home from work and saw her still at home, not watching TV or playing with her phone, he wondered what she was thinking about.
Cheng Yan Qing had sharp eyes. As soon as he entered the house, he noticed the ointment on her ankle. “What happened to your foot?”
“I accidentally slipped,” Cheng Wanyue stretched lazily, “I’ve already been to the hospital. It’s not a big deal. My phone broke, so please help me ask Sister Qi for a week off.”
“Your phone broke?” Cheng Yan Qing casually threw whatever was in his hand onto the table, then sat beside her. He lifted her foot and placed it on his lap, carefully examining it. “Where did you fall?”
“I went to a friend’s place to get the keys this morning, right? There was oil on the corridor floor, and I didn’t notice it and slipped,” Cheng Wanyue said.
Before she started working, Cheng Yan Qing had already stored the boss’s, manager’s, and several other band members’ phone numbers on his phone.
“It must have hurt a lot. Is a week enough? Let’s just rest for a month.”
“A month? I might as well fire my boss directly,” she closed her eyes and leaned back lazily, “I’ll wash and sleep at home.”
“I think that works,” Cheng Yan Qing originally felt uneasy anyway, “Quit. I’ll support you.”
Cheng Wanyue didn’t come to Beijing to make money or to become famous, but she needed a job. Previously, she thought the time and commute for that place were quite suitable, and she didn’t mind other things. But now her mindset had shifted.
Meng Qi was Zhou Heng’s cousin, and Zhou Heng was Qing Hang’s roommate. For now, there was no better choice than that place.
“You need to start saving money to buy your fiancée a wedding dress, rings, a house, and prepare for the wedding. I’m not crippled and incapable of moving. Many disabled people aren’t lazy freeloaders either; they all fend for themselves.”
Cheng Yan Qing nodded in agreement, “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll reflect on it.”
He called Meng Qi to explain the situation and requested a week off according to Cheng Wanyue’s wishes.
“What do you want to eat tonight?” Cheng Yan Qing rarely let Cheng Wanyue eat unhealthy things like takeout, barbecue, or fried skewers, except occasionally to satisfy cravings. If he had time, he always cooked at home.
“I’ve already eaten at the Shaanxi noodle shop nearby, but I can still eat a little more with you.”
“We’ll stir-fry four dishes tonight. You watch some TV first.”
“Mm.”
Cheng Wanyue’s sprained foot would only cause trouble in the kitchen. She wasn’t actually hungry, but after Cheng Yan Qing prepared dinner, she ate quite a bit of each dish.
Family never let her do housework. Living in Beijing, Cheng Yan Qing took care of cooking, washing dishes, and mopping the floor. With practice, he became skilled and efficient.
Cheng Yan Qing video-called his girlfriend every day. He smoked on the balcony and didn’t pay much attention while talking on the phone. He only noticed two men’s clothes hanging on the clothes rack when he was about to go back inside.
He bit the cigarette in his mouth, pushed open the balcony door, “Cheng Wanyue, these aren’t clothes you bought for me, are they?”
Cheng Wanyue glanced outside, her face not turning red, her heart not racing, “Of course not. These are someone else’s clothes.”
“So explain why someone else’s clothes are here.” Cheng Yan Qing remembered that they weren’t there before he left in the morning, which meant it happened in the afternoon. His expression became somewhat complex. “Your foot is injured like this, and you can still bring someone home?”
She said, “He didn’t come inside.”
“So how did these two pieces of clothing end up here?”
“I wore them back,” she didn’t intend to explain further and hopped back into the room on one foot, “Remember to take my phone to be repaired tomorrow.”
The TV in the living room was still on, airing a frivolous variety show. Cheng Yan Qing looked up at the men’s shirt and shorts hanging on the clothes rack and took a drag of his cigarette.
She came to Beijing right after graduation. He was unclear whether she dated anyone during college. Even if she did, it definitely didn’t work out because she never brought anyone home.
It’s possible now.
...
Qing Hang worked a night shift yesterday and could rest today.
He hadn’t slept for thirty hours. His body was exhausted, yet he had no desire to sleep.
The apartment had poor sound insulation. Lying in bed, Qing Hang could clearly hear Zhou Heng pacing and talking. Zhou Heng liked playing games and usually washed up before bed. He and his childhood friend Xu Qian had a gaming group that was lively every day.
At half past twelve, Zhou Heng finished his bath and returned to his room, and the living room finally quieted down.
Qing Hang reached out to find the switch by his bedside, turned on the light, and sat up looking at the dress draped over the chair. A noticeable yellowish oil stain marred the hem.
He didn’t understand fashion or the popular clothing brands among young women nowadays. Although Cheng Wanyue had been particular about her clothes, not everything she wore was a luxury brand. She often wore T-shirts that cost only a few dozen yuan.
She said it couldn’t be bought anymore, so it shouldn’t be an ordinary style.
The second hand revolved round and round. After the bulb flickered once, Qing Hang snapped back to reality. He got up, picked up the dress, and went to the balcony.
This fabric absorbed oil, and it wouldn’t be easy to wash after such a long time. He soaked it in water for ten minutes, scrubbed it clean, and hung it up to dry. Early the next morning, before Zhou Heng woke up, he collected the dried dress.
Perhaps it was because of that dress, but he kept waking up frequently throughout the night. Each time he fell back into a drowsy sleep, he drifted into another dream. Some scenes felt as if they had actually happened, familiar yet tinged with a sense of strangeness — though in reality, it was all just a dream.
Qing Hang’s wardrobe was simple, and the dress looked out of place inside it.
His mind conjured up the image of her changing clothes on the bed yesterday. Her shirt and the hem of the skirt were tangled together, inseparable in their intimacy.
Suddenly, the door was pushed open, and Qing Hang instinctively stuffed the dress under his blanket.
Zhou Heng was still brushing his teeth. He had intended to say something, but upon opening the door, he saw Qing Hang’s odd sleeping posture and unfriendly gaze. He was surprised but understood.
Adult men, after all.
They all get it.
“Sorry,” Zhou Heng quickly apologized and closed the door, “I’ll remember to knock next time.”
Interrupting someone at such a moment would make anyone uncomfortable. Zhou Heng had originally planned to wait until evening to talk, but Qing Hang came out of his room ten minutes later.
“So fast?” Zhou Heng raised an eyebrow.
Qing Hang knew what he was thinking but didn’t bother explaining, “We’re meeting the landlord tomorrow night to sign the contract, renewing for another six months.”
“Alright, either you or I can go. This time, let’s pay the rent for the second half of the year too. Otherwise, he’ll keep pestering us every few days, which is annoying.” Zhou Heng stood in front of the mirror, using hair gel to style his hair, and jokingly added, “When I saw you preparing your resignation letter a while back, I thought you were planning to leave Beijing.”
Qing Hang’s resignation letter only had the title “Resignation Letter.”
“Not for now.”
“Has another hospital approached you? Your director admires you so much, he won’t let you go easily.”
Qing Hang simply said, “No, it’s because of something else.”
Zhou Heng understood the implication behind Qing Hang’s words. Even if he didn’t leave now, he would sooner or later.
“Don’t be too hasty. Think it over before making a decision. Other hospitals might offer better benefits temporarily, but the future prospects here will definitely surpass them. Qing Hang, this is Beijing, the most coveted place for medical students.”
If Qing Hang hadn’t understood this reasoning, he wouldn’t have come to Beijing in the first place.
The contract matter was straightforward. They just needed to modify the dates on the previous contract and sign it again.
Qing Hang was very busy with work, only finding time to check his phone when he was free.
It had only been four days. He would wait a little longer.
Zhou Heng worked late. It was Qing Hang’s turn to cook today, and since they were resting tomorrow, dinner was more elaborate than usual. After Zhou Heng returned home, his phone was almost glued to his hand, even during meals. Every time the phone vibrated, he quickly picked it up, replying with a smile.
Back in the office, colleagues teased Zhou Heng about inviting Qing Hang to eat at Hetaoli , saying his intentions weren’t about the food. That was the state he was in.
Had her phone been repaired?
Or did she buy a new one?
Qing Hang didn’t play games. After cleaning up the dishes, he returned to his room. The dress was neatly folded and placed in the wardrobe. He stared at it for a while before dialing that familiar number.
The call went through.
But she didn’t pick up.