Chen Yi slept overnight on the long sofa in the lounge. The next day, some regular customers came to the billiards hall to play, so he accompanied them for games and practice, playing a few rounds himself. In the afternoon, Tu Li called again—she had an early shift that day and wanted him to pick her up after work. He lazily claimed he had something to do and no time, then hung up.
Tu Li found his sudden temper baffling, but Chen Yi had been moody before. She decided to reach out to him again in a couple of days.
After Bo Zai returned to take over his shift, Chen Yi went home, intending to take a shower and pack some clothes.
No one was home.
It wasn’t the messy state he’d left it in—everything was neat and tidy. The doors to both bedrooms were open, as was the balcony door, allowing ventilation. Instead of the damp, musty smell typical of older ground-floor apartments, the air was fresh and cool, with a faint, pleasant fragrance.
Fresh fruit sat on the table, and the refrigerator held half a watermelon, some fresh vegetables, eggs, milk, and beer.
Miao Jing had quietly returned.
Chen Yi sat on a chair to light a cigarette, chewing on the filter absently. After finishing it, he couldn’t stay put and headed out.
He ran into Miao Jing just as she was returning downstairs.
Miao Jing had been out handling errands: going to the bank, swapping her SIM card at the service center, updating her personal files and household registration, and reacquainting herself with the neighborhood. Though she’d lived in Tengcheng for ten years, she’d rarely been anywhere and had no particular impression of the city.
She carried a pale yellow floral parasol, her face glowing porcelain-white in the light. Small-featured with red lips, pearly teeth, dark brows, and clear, bright eyes, she had a slender, graceful figure that conveyed softness but not fragility. Her demeanor was neither gentle nor approachable—instead, she seemed aloof and solitary, standing tall and poised. Even in simple, loose-fitting long sleeves and pants, every step and fold of her clothing accentuated her elegant, delicate grace.
Chen Yi stood under the sun, his brow furrowed darkly as he watched her approach slowly.
"Chen Yi."
"Give me your phone number. Is the old one no longer in use? It’s been out of service for a long time."
Having just changed her SIM card, she stopped in front of him, pulled out her phone, and waited for him to recite the number.
He turned his head impatiently, took a breath, and coldly recited a string of digits.
The phone in his pocket buzzed and rang. Hearing it, Miao Jing pressed the end-call button. "This is my new number. Save it too."
He grunted in acknowledgment, brushed past her, and walked off without another word. Miao Jing didn’t speak either, entering the stairwell, closing her umbrella, and heading upstairs.
Fifteen minutes later, a message dinged from an unknown number.
【Don’t smoke at home.】
The man expressionlessly saved the number, typing "Miao Jing," then accepted her WeChat friend request.
The first message—
【What time will you be back tonight? The window latch is broken.】
Goddammit!
Chen Yi remembered he’d been holed up at the billiards hall for two days. He’d only gone home to smoke a cigarette—he still hadn’t showered or grabbed his clothes. He had to go back again.
—
Returning home at 10 p.m., he found Miao Jing still awake. Seeing him, she asked if he’d eaten and offered to cook if he hadn’t.
He coldly replied that he had and went straight to his room. The room had been thoroughly cleaned. Looking for his towel, he couldn’t help but inhale sharply, planting his hands on his hips. "Where’s my towel?"
"It was too old. I threw it out." Miao Jing handed him a new one. "Here, I bought this for you."A pale blue, wide cotton bath towel, soft and fine in texture—the old towel had been used by Miao Jing as a rag to wipe the floor.
Chen Yi gritted his teeth, the veins at his temples bulging. Clutching the towel, he slammed the bathroom door shut. The shelves, once lined with various bottles and jars, had all changed. He used to wash his entire body with just one bar of soap, but Tu Li had left behind many colorful containers, which were now all gone, replaced by a full set of unfamiliar products.
Someone knocked on the door: "The new soap is in the bathroom cabinet. You can unwrap it yourself."
The sound of running water echoed in the bathroom.
After his shower, Chen Yi emerged with a cold, sullen expression. Moments later, he stepped out of his room fully dressed and sat on the sofa. He tapped a cigarette out of the pack, placed it between his lips, and lit it. The flame flared briefly as he took a deep, sharp drag. Lifting his eyelids, he slowly exhaled a breath.
The tobacco was rich, robust, and aromatic—strong and substantial, with a gritty, textured sensation in its smoothness, rough and uneven.
"Miao Jing, let's talk."
Miao Jing, who had been about to sleep, opened her door and leaned against the frame to look at him.
"Change your clothes before coming out." He gazed at her through the haze of smoke, his eyes also veiled in a faint mist, dark and brooding.
She was wearing a simple gray slip dress with thin built-in padding, the hem ending mid-thigh. The ice-silk fabric clung softly to her body, accentuating her slender waist, long straight legs, and porcelain-smooth skin. She turned back into her room and returned shortly after, draped in a white nightgown that hung from her delicate shoulders, the hem nearly reaching her ankles. The loose, airy fabric only emphasized how slender and petite she was at the core.
Miao Jing sat on the sofa, staring at him, her voice clear: "I told you, no smoking in the house."
"Tch."
He clicked his tongue, pressing it against his cheek, and shot her a sidelong glance, his expression indifferent. He took two slow, unhurried puffs, leisurely blowing out smoke rings before slouching back lazily. His long legs, encased in jeans, propped up on the coffee table in a crude and frivolous posture. Through the haze, Miao Jing caught his cold, mocking eyes. Pressing her red lips together, she remained silent, clearly displeased.
He was displeased too. The two were locked in a standoff, waiting to see who would outlast the other.
"What did you major in at university? What job did you find?"
"You wouldn't understand even if I told you." Miao Jing's expression was placid. After a moment's thought, she added, "I earn eight thousand a month, plus other subsidies and a year-end bonus. It's decent enough."
Chen Yi sneered: "I really don't get you college students. You kill yourselves studying for years, supposedly broadening your horizons, and you're satisfied with eight thousand a month?"
Miao Jing turned her head away: "I'm self-reliant. Why shouldn't I be satisfied?"
"You can be self-reliant anywhere. Why come back here?"
"To work, live, and get by."
"You can get by anywhere. Why insist on coming here?" With no ashtray on the table, he flicked his ash onto the floor, his thick brows sharp and imposing. "What did I tell you back then? I told you to get lost, as far away as possible."
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