Fang Long slept until evening. When she woke, her whole body felt sore and weak, especially her thighs, as if she’d run a marathon of several kilometers. Aside from that, nothing else seemed uncomfortable. She’d been wiped down from head to toe, her hair fluffy, her skin fresh and clean. The sheets had been changed, and there was a note Zhou Ya had left on the bedside table, weighted down under a ceramic cup. The man’s handwriting was bold and flowing, no different from when he jotted down orders at the food stall, yet Fang Long could read every word of it perfectly.

He’d gone back to the food stall. There was congee he’d cooked on the kitchen stove — she should heat it up before eating. If she couldn’t finish it, don’t force it down, put it in the fridge, and he’d come clean up tomorrow. He also told her not to come to the shop tonight, to rest well.

Slipping into a nightgown, Fang Long waddled to the kitchen like a penguin. She had to admit, this guy Zhou Ya really was in great physical shape — thirty years old and still so strong, having done such intense exercise, yet still able to clean up and cook her congee afterward.

It was preserved egg and pork congee, a bit cold now. Fang Long reheated it, brought the whole pot to the table, and slurped it all down with gusto. She’d been starving, parched, and exhausted.

After washing the pot, Fang Long opened the wardrobe, wanting to finish sorting the clothes she’d half-organized earlier, only to find Zhou Ya had already tidied it all up for her. Their clothes hung close together, underwear neatly folded into the drawers. Fang Long sighed helplessly, but couldn’t help laughing too. At this rate, she’d end up spoiled useless by Zhou Ya — clothes handed to her, food brought to her mouth.

Her phone suddenly buzzed; Fang Long glanced at it and picked up immediately, drawing out the greeting: “Hellooo—”

Zhou Ya sat under the arcade downstairs from the stall, legs crossed, smoking: “You’re awake?”

“I finished all the congee.”

“Oh? All of it?”

“Yep.”

Zhou Ya laughed low in his throat: “Such an appetite — I’d better earn more money or I won’t be able to support you in the future.”

Fang Long snorted: “You don’t need to support me, I can support myself.”

“Sure, look at you.” His voice was satisfied, languid and relaxed; Zhou Ya took a drag of his cigarette and asked, “Anywhere feeling uncomfortable?”

“Just my thighs, no strength left.”

“And there?”

Fang Long deliberately teased him: “Where?”

The evening market hadn’t started yet; not far off, A’Feng and the other staff were gathered playing cards during the lull, and there were people and cars passing on the road. Away from that particular environment, Zhou Ya wasn’t quite as brazen, and those words stayed bottled up in his stomach. He rubbed his knuckle against his brow bone, lowering his voice: “There are people around.”

Unlike him, Fang Long, having eaten and slept her fill, found her clever little mouth becoming quite nimble: “Weren’t you quite the talker earlier? Worse than a hooligan!”

Zhou Ya had already been distracted; while prepping ingredients in the back kitchen earlier, his mind kept wandering, that soft “Brother” she’d cried out at the height of passion echoing in his head over and over. The result of his distraction: he’d pricked his finger handling the mantis shrimp, nearly gotten the seasoning ratio wrong, and hadn’t responded when A’Feng and the others called him — things like that.

Customers arrived at the shop just then; A’Feng dropped the cards to go greet them, and Zhou Ya had to get busy too, but not before reminding Fang Long: “Rest more, and remember not to come over.”

“So naggy.”

“I’ve got to get to work. I’ll call you after the evening rush.”

“Hey, wait, wait, wait.” Fang Long called him back.

“What?”

The sky hadn’t fully darkened yet; the sun was setting, pink and blue blending ambiguously together.

Fang Long leaned against the window frame, saying lazily: “Zhou Ya, look at the sky, there’s a sunset today.”

Zhou Ya stood up, walking out from under the arcade, and looked up at the sky. Even on sunny days, southern winters had a pale sky, without much richness of color. So the pink-purple glow at this moment was a rare sight.

Fang Long asked him: “Can you see it from the food stall?”

“Yeah, I can see it.”

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

His dark, ink-black eyes warmed a few degrees. Zhou Ya smiled: “Pretty.”

But it wasn’t only the sunset that was beautiful. In others’ eyes, this girl had a whole basketful of flaws. But in his eyes, she was more vivid and alive than most people in this world.

All evening, Zhou Ya was eager to get home; once the stall’s stock had mostly sold out, he left it to A’Feng and the others and hurried back on his own.

His mother’s door was closed; Fang Long’s door, though, had been left slightly ajar, a warm glow spilling out. He showered first, then slipped into Fang Long’s room, where the two of them wrestled and kissed, nearly setting off sparks again. Finally, having settled Fang Long down, Zhou Ya prepared to leave. On his way out, he glanced once more at his mother’s door before returning to his own room.

Inside her room, Ma Huimin, hearing the sounds outside finally stop, lay back down and slowly let out a sigh.

After the sixth day of the New Year, many migrant workers, like wild geese flying off after winter, gradually left their hometown one after another. The small town, lively for half a month, quieted down again, and the food stall wasn’t as busy — everyone began taking turns for days off. After all, since the third day of the New Year they’d all been working, with no time to spend with family.

Fang Long and Boss Zhou had both taken three days off; she’d promised Luo Xin she’d accompany her on a trip to Guangzhou.

Luo Xin had found a job minding a store in a clothing wholesale market — the shop owner had his own factory, with storefronts in every major clothing wholesale market in Guangzhou, employee dormitories, and pay considerably better than Luo Xin’s cashier job at the town supermarket.

Luo Xin’s parents had divorced early on, each starting new families — one in Shenzhen, one in Fujian — leaving Luo Xin alone in Andrew Town, raised by her grandmother. After her grandmother passed away, the old house had been taken over by her eldest uncle’s family, leaving Luo Xin to feel like an unwelcome guest in her own home. Now that she was leaving town, her aunt-by-marriage hadn’t given her any pleasant looks.

“Does she think I don’t know what she’s up to?” Luo Xin, waiting for the bus to the provincial capital, took a drag on her cigarette between two fingers, exhaling smoke as she griped about her aunt. “She secretly arranged a marriage for me — wanted to trade me for a bride price to find a wife for her useless son!”

The town had a small bus station, but most of the buses there went to nearby cities and villages; to get to the provincial capital, you had to catch a “through bus” — one that passed through the town on its way from another city to the capital. Being a “through bus,” it naturally didn’t enter the town itself; it would come off the highway, make a U-turn on the national road, pick up passengers, then get back on the highway.

The wind was strong on the outskirts of town; whenever a car passed near the highway entrance on the national road, it kicked up dust. Fang Long tucked her hands into her hoodie’s front pocket, turning her face away to avoid the dust, and once the gust passed, teased: “So does this count as you ‘running away from marriage’?”

This kind of thing was all too common in the male-favoring rural towns of the south; Fang Long had heard of it plenty over the years. Girls were like goods in a supermarket, slapped with invisible but glaring “price tags” by a price gun — Luo Xin wasn’t the first, and wouldn’t be the last.

“Why would I need to ‘run’? I’m walking out of that house with my head held high!” Luo Xin said, eyes narrowed. “If Guangzhou hadn’t been slow to resume work, I’d have gone up ages ago. That broken family… I couldn’t stand staying there another second.”

Fang Long thought it over, then asked quietly: “So will you come back afterward?”

“If I can manage to stay out there, I won’t come back. But even if I can’t, I still won’t come back — Grandma’s gone, there’s no point coming back.”

Luo Xin took a drag of her cigarette, exhaling fully before continuing, “Last time you left the supermarket that night, didn’t we talk about this too? You said Andrew Town has your family, that you don’t want to leave your family either… Fang Long, honestly, I really envy you.”

Luo Xin leaned over to glance to the side. Not far off, parked by the road, was a van — Fang Long’s cousin who ran the food stall was standing beside it; he was the one who’d driven them there. The man was now gazing off toward the direction traffic would come from. His stance was much like Fang Long’s — hands tucked into the pockets of his black leather jacket, back straight, tall and imposing.

Fang Long followed Luo Xin’s gaze, her heart inexplicably quickening. She cleared her throat: “Envy me for what?”

“Envy that you have family who make you willing to stay in this small town.”

Luo Xin tossed her cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it out with her shoe tip. “This place is so small, there isn’t even a bus that goes straight to the provincial capital — everyone wants to run off. They must treat you incredibly well, for you to want to stay. Like back when my grandma was still around — even though she always complained I was a burden dragging her down, back then I never once thought of leaving her, because I knew, in this whole world, she was the only one who truly, genuinely treated me well.”

Fang Long’s heart felt as if a heavy hook had tugged at it. Though she and Luo Xin had gotten along fairly well, they rarely touched on such heavy, personal topics. Fang Long looped her arm through Luo Xin’s, saying softly: “It’s all in the past now, everything will slowly get better.”

Someday, you’ll meet family again who truly, genuinely treat you well — family who make you willing to stay by their side.

A bus approached from a distance; Zhou Ya walked forward a couple of steps, and after confirming the license plate, turned back toward the two young women: “The bus is here.”

Fang Long stamped her feet: “Finally, my feet are numb from the cold…”

Zhou Ya said, unimpressed: “Who told you to wear so little? Not even a jacket.”

Fang Long said without thinking: “I brought one, it’s in my suitcase.”

Zhou Ya took off his leather jacket and pushed it into Fang Long’s hands: “Wear this.”

“Oh, no need, I really did bring one—” Fang Long, caught by Zhou Ya’s sharp glance, couldn’t keep up the lie, and clutched the jacket, still warm with his body heat, pouting as she muttered, “Then what about you? Won’t you be cold?”

Zhou Ya replied with a mock-cheerful face: “Mm, freezing.”

Fang Long nearly burst out laughing, going along with it: “Then you should hurry back.”

Zhou Ya ignored her, and once the bus stopped, he went to confirm the destination with the driver first, then helped load the two girls’ luggage into the compartment at the back of the bus. Andrew Town had only these two passengers; Luo Xin had already boarded, while Fang Long was still below. The driver urged: “Little sister, hurry up and get on.”

“Wait! The luggage isn’t loaded yet!” Fang Long called out, hurrying anxiously to Zhou Ya’s side. “Hey, I’m off…”

“Mm, go on, call me once you get to Guangzhou.”

The bus’s luggage compartment door was still open, hanging in mid-air, blocking the view of the passengers on board, including Luo Xin. Zhou Ya held the edge of the compartment door with one hand, bending slightly, and with the other hooked at Fang Long’s fingers: “Your hands are too cold. Put the jacket on once you’re up there.”

Fang Long suddenly had so much she wanted to say, but felt it was overly sentimental — it was just a short trip out, why make it feel like a life-and-death farewell? She turned her hand to grip Zhou Ya’s, and amid the rumbling engine noise, said quietly: “Zhou Ya, I’ll come back.”

Zhou Ya froze, at first about to tease her for suddenly being so reluctant to part — hadn’t she been happy as a child packing her bags just yesterday? But in the end, he only lowered his head and kissed her cheek: “Okay, I’ll wait for you to come back.”