The man stopped at the stall, pretending to pick through betel nuts while casually grabbing her hand.
Wu Ximei forced a smile, casting a wary glance toward the street corner. Two figures—one standing, one crouched, one tall, one short—were also eyeing her direction. Only then did her heart settle.
Over the past month, the three had become friends. Now, whenever Wu Ximei peddled betel nuts, Ni Xiangdong and Cao Xiaojun would follow at a distance, watching like the string of a kite or the anchor of a ship.
She had once considered laying bare her past, only to be met with impatient waves of their hands. They joked that they were all wild children born with fathers but raised without—no one had the right to judge another.
From then on, an unspoken pact was formed. They never learned of the fire that had ravaged her hometown, just as she never asked about the scars on their faces or the origins of the money in their pockets.
They were in a privileged stretch of life, their cups overflowing with happiness.
Boundless energy, raw nerves, reckless and dazzling imagination, taut and restless bodies, soaring ambitions and blissful ignorance, fierce love and desire.
All the precious things that, once lost, could never be reclaimed—they brimmed over, spilled recklessly, squandered without guilt, as if inexhaustible.
Straddling the line between childhood and adulthood, cruelty and mistakes could be worn as badges of pride.
For the first time, they were grateful to have been born in the muck, to have found kindred spirits in the filth, growing familiar until they became inseparable.
They spent days and nights tangled together—shouting, laughing, squaring off like fighting cocks, bouncing through karaoke bars, drinking until the world spun, then staggering down neon-lit streets, howling and swaying, rousing the neighborhood dogs to bark all night.
Ni Xiangdong and Cao Xiaojun were her courage and her safety net. Wu Ximei shed her armor and reverted to a child.
A flower, a gust of wind, a bite of fresh fruit, a gauzy dress—every little thing set her heart racing. She had never loved being alive so much. Each day was a rebirth, each day pristine and fulfilling in ways she’d never known.
Yet, a trio was always an unfair tug-of-war—one side favored, one side doomed to lose.
Wu Ximei never spoke it aloud, but she’d long known the answer.
To her, Cao Xiaojun was merely an add-on—like the leaves in a flower bed, the dice in a mahjong set, the spices in a soup pot. Always present, yet never the main event, easily replaced.
But Ni Xiangdong was different. He was her blessing and her curse.
Often, for no reason, she’d recall the hand that had pulled her up—his bloodstained arm, searing and firm, hot as freshly forged iron.
Ni Xiangdong’s entrances always seemed to come with a gust of wind, stirring a riot of blossoms in her chest, her reason drifting away, sinking into the depths.
So when both men offered her their half-finished drinks, Wu Ximei didn’t hesitate. She took Ni Xiangdong’s glass and drained it.
Ni Xiangdong froze, then chuckled, his face red as he stole a glance at Cao Xiaojun.
Cao Xiaojun was laughing too—still laughing—but the corners of his eyes and brows sagged, as if the laughter had soured, turned bitter, turned poisonous.
Cao Xiaojun often joked that he was Ni Xiangdong’s lackey. Well, now it had come true—he’d become the sidekick in someone else’s romance.
Now the glass was clenched in his hand—too awkward to drink, too awkward to set down. He just held it there, stiff and exposed, humiliated in the raw.Ni Xiangdong punched Cao Xiaojun on the shoulder, snapping him out of his daze. Seizing the moment, Cao raised his glass and shouted exaggeratedly:
"I'll drink to that! To the happy couple!"
His voice was so loud that neighboring tables turned to look.
A week later, Wu Ximei moved out of the six-person shared rental and in with Ni Xiangdong.
The place was co-rented by Ni and Cao, located on the old street near the county town. It wasn't big—just one room with a curtain hung up to feign a semblance of separate quarters.
Whenever Wu Ximei and Ni Xiangdong got all lovey-dovey, Cao Xiaojun would tactfully head to the internet café at the end of the street, gaming through the night.
They lived this carefree life for over a year until Wu Ximei noticed something unusual about her body.
She had a secret—one that involved Ni Xiangdong.
She figured being a Betel Nut Girl wasn't a long-term solution. Once she saved enough money, she'd find another way to make a living.
Ni Xiangdong thought the same. After all, Wu Ximei was his woman, and he wasn't about to let her stay on the streets as a side dish for other men. So when the day came to confront Dao Ge, both he and Cao Xiaojun went with her.
On a drowsy summer afternoon, the three of them waited in the cramped, stuffy storefront for what felt like forever, but Dao Ge never showed.
"Not just any small fry gets to see him," one of Dao Ge's men said, exhaling smoke. "You gotta follow the rules. Show some sincerity."
"What rules?"
The man didn't answer. Instead, he pulled out a fruit knife from his waistband.
A few idle girls, sensing some excitement, yawned and gathered around, arms crossed, watching from the sidelines.
The man planted his left hand on the table, fingers splayed, and stabbed the knife between them one by one—clink, clink, clink—his face indifferent, never once looking down or blinking.
Then he turned the knife sideways and handed it to Ni Xiangdong.
Ni smiled, in no hurry to take it. But Cao Xiaojun lunged forward, snatched the knife, and started stabbing.
Wu Ximei held her breath as the blade danced between his fingers—swish, swish, swish.
Then came a mistake—a wet thud as the knife pierced his ring finger.
The flesh around the last knuckle turned white, then crimson as blood gushed out.
She gasped, and the girls in the shop sucked in their breath too. But Cao Xiaojun didn't make a sound. Gritting his teeth, he yanked the knife out and kept going like nothing had happened, stabbing between each finger until all five had their turn. Then, with a sudden force, he slammed the knife down, embedding the blade deep into the table.
"Enough?"
He lifted his head, glaring straight at the man, not saying another word.
"Hey, breaking up should be peaceful. Why make it bloody?"
The curtain parted, and Dao Ge emerged from the shadows, straightening his clothes as he walked. Smiling, he raised his hand and slapped his subordinate.
"Useless trash. Couldn't even pick a better time to mess around—ruined my nap."
He slumped onto the sofa, lit a cigarette, and studied Cao Xiaojun with interest.
Cao stared back unflinchingly, his bull-like eyes unwavering. Blood still dripped from his hand, but he couldn't be bothered to look.
Dao Ge was the first to look away, turning his gaze to Wu Ximei instead.
"Made up your mind? I've always taken good care of you—fair cuts too. Ask around, who else offers terms like mine?" He flicked his cigarette ash. "Quitting out of the blue like this puts me in a tough spot. Don't forget who took you in back then."
"Thanks, Dao Ge, but I really can't do this anymore."
"Why? Give me a reason."His gaze trailed down her face like a wandering hand.
"Not enough money, or—"
His eyes and the words from his lips slid down to her slightly protruding belly and halted simultaneously.
Wu Ximei shrank back, instinctively covering her stomach.
She knew she could hide it from Ni Xiangdong, but not from this old fox who'd seen it all.
Sure enough, Dao Ge nodded, stubbed out his cigarette, and relented.
"Understood. To each their own—I won't force you. Give me some time to train your replacement."
"How long?"
"Three months. You work for free, all earnings go to me, then you're out."
This wasn't negotiation but decree. Everyone knew Dao Ge's words brooked no bargaining.
"Three months..." Wu Ximei calculated the timing. "Dao Ge, I'm afraid I—"
Dao Ge studied her still-childish face, hand on chin, then waved in surrender.
"Fine, fine. One month. Can't help liking you."
As the trio turned to leave with profuse thanks, Dao Ge—who'd been staring at the ceiling—suddenly called her back.
"Ever believe in face-reading?"
Ni Xiangdong snorted. Dao Ge ignored him, eyes locked on Wu Ximei.
"Little sister, women can't afford to gamble. One mistake burdens a lifetime—be very careful."
Today was the promised final day.
When the clock struck, Wu Ximei grabbed the cash and remaining betel nuts, stuffing them all into her successor's hands.
She skipped out laughing, leaped into Ni Xiangdong's arms, nearly knocking him over. Cao Xiaojun laughed too—until he turned away, the smile vanishing.
Three people, two motorcycles, singing and shouting all the way to the beach.
Wu Ximei's stilettos wobbled dangerously on the seawall. Cao Xiaojun's hand twitched toward her, then bent to scratch his head.
He watched Ni Xiangdong casually slip an arm around her waist. Hip-bumping, teasing, they staggered forward together.
Trailing behind, Cao Xiaojun slowed until he stopped completely. Nobody noticed.
At sunset, Ni Xiangdong stood gilded in afterglow, cigarette in hand, silently watching the waves.
The flame flickered, mirroring the distant lighthouse.
Wu Ximei tilted her head up, mesmerized by her lover's golden profile, lost in the reflection in his pupils.
He smiled, so she knew she must be happy too.
How could she not be?
That secret pulsed inside her, growing, binding their fates together.
The sea shimmered; gulls wheeled and cried. The dying sun unleashed one final blaze, scattering light like silent embers from their hometown's great fire.
Suddenly she snatched the cigarette away, closed her eyes, and let the secret escape.
"You're going to be a father."
OpenNovel