Xing Wu went back to his room to get a T-shirt, glancing at Qingye while there. She was curled up by the bed with her computer on, staring blankly at the screen, lost in thought. Xing Wu noticed she seemed much thinner than when she first arrived at his house, her chin now appearing sharper.

Just as he pulled out the shirt, he heard Qingye’s soft voice drift over from behind the curtain: “Why are all the people here like this?”

Hearing these words, Xing Wu’s eyes flickered slightly. Having grown up in Zhazha Pavilion, he was used to this atmosphere and had never questioned the locals’ habits of taking advantage of others, being selfish, and nitpicking over small gains. After all, if you don’t look out for yourself, who will? He had lived this way for eighteen years.

But since this girl’s arrival, in less than half a month, Xing Wu had felt embarrassed multiple times because of his mother and the neighbors’ behavior.

Why were the people here like this? He couldn’t answer. He was one of them too.

He asked, “Did you lose any clothes?”

Qingye shook her head, resting her chin on her knees, and said with confusion: “I just don’t understand why they would take my underwear instead of my clothes. Isn’t it uncomfortable to wear someone else’s underwear?”

Xing Wu wanted to tell her that whoever took her underwear might not have intended to wear it, but he kept quiet, not wanting to frighten her.

Before leaving, he saw her dried skirt had been taken down, neatly folded, and placed on top of her suitcase.

As he went downstairs, Qingye’s words echoed in his mind: “Isn’t it uncomfortable to wear someone else’s underwear?”

He clenched his jaw and walked into the kitchen, asking Li Lanfang from the doorway: “Where do you usually buy underwear?”

“Fengyang Market. Why?”

“Nothing.” Xing Wu turned and left.

Sure enough, when Li Lanfang offered her underwear to Qingye that evening, she politely declined. Thinking of that filthy washing machine, she couldn’t be certain Li Lanfang wouldn’t throw the underwear in there to wash. During her stay, Qingye learned that with Li Lanfang, anything was possible.

Early the next morning, Xing Wu went to the county town. He had Quanya watch the store, and though Sleeve Tattoo wanted to accompany him and look around, Xing Wu flatly refused, telling him to go by himself if he wanted to go. This left Quanya puzzled.

If it hadn’t been so early in the morning, they would have suspected Xing Wu was meeting a lover in town, given how secretive he was being.

When Xing Wu arrived at Fengyang Market, it had just opened. The semi-open-air market sold everything from clothes and shoes to socks and bags, including underwear. The vendors quoted prices in the hundreds, but Xing Wu knew the actual selling price was usually just a tenth of that.

He found several stalls selling women’s underwear but felt too embarrassed to look closely. He just casually walked past the stalls, noting that the styles were either very old-fashioned or extremely revealing and nearly unwatchable. He suspected if he bought any of these, Qingye would be so angry she’d throw them in his face.

Passing by one stall, he overheard a middle-aged woman buying underwear for 15 yuan. While it was certainly cheap, remembering the brands and fabric quality of Qingye’s clothes from when he helped her do laundry, he couldn’t bring himself to make her wear something that cost just over ten yuan.

He left Fengyang Market, stood at the entrance smoking a cigarette, and then walked along the pedestrian street for about ten minutes until he found a lingerie boutique. Without hesitation, he walked in.

The moment Xing Wu entered the store, the atmosphere turned awkward. Bras and panties in various colors and styles hung on the racks. The clerk was a young girl who looked at him uncomfortably, while he looked back just as awkwardly.

Finally, Xing Wu forced himself to ask: “Are you open?”

The clerk replied: “Yes, what would you like to buy?”

Xing Wu scanned the store, noting that specialty stores were different – the underwear looked much more normal. He searched until he found a style similar to the one he had been about to wash that day, and pointed it out to the clerk: “I want this one.”

The clerk’s expression grew even more peculiar. She had never encountered a man coming to buy bras early in the morning, but maintaining professional courtesy, she asked: “What size?”

The question stumped Xing Wu. Size? How the hell would he know? He had just taken out his phone to message Qingye and ask when he suddenly stopped. How could he ask? “How big are your breasts?” Qingye would probably block him immediately!

Xing Wu, who normally feared nothing and no one, had never felt so challenged. He sincerely felt that women were too troublesome.

Despite the difficulty, he made a selection based on his memory from that day: “About this size.”

The clerk looked at it and said: “Oh, B cup. Just this one?”

Xing Wu picked out two more in solid colors and told the clerk: “These three, with matching underwear. How much?”

Seeing the young man’s discomfort and guessing he was buying for his girlfriend, the clerk thought it sweet that he came so early, and noting his good looks, kindly said: “I’ll throw in the matching underwear for free. For the bras, the blue one is a new style so it’s more expensive at 368 yuan, these two are 218 each, totaling 804 yuan. WeChat or Alipay?”

Xing Wu was stunned – he hadn’t expected these bits of fabric to be so expensive, nearly a thousand yuan?

After leaving with the shopping bag, he went straight home instead of returning to Shunyi. Qingye had just woken up and was sitting at the cashier counter memorizing English vocabulary when she heard Little Angel’s sound. She wondered why Xing Wu was back so early, then saw him walk up with a bag, toss it at her without a word, and head to the backyard.

Liunian was also curious about Xing Wu’s early return and asked Qingye: “What did Wu-ge give you?”

“I don’t know.” Qingye opened the bag, immediately turned bright red, and closed it before Liunian could peek inside.

When she ran to the backyard, Xing Wu was casually drinking a glass of water.

Qingye looked around to make sure no one was there, then approached him with a flushed face and said: “What do you mean by this?”

“What do I mean by what?”

“Why did you buy these for me?”

“What do you think?” Xing Wu’s response made Qingye extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed. Even her father had never bought these things for her – she’d rather die of embarrassment.

This was the first time Xing Wu had seen her so flustered. Suppressing a smile, he told her: “I’ll bring a drying rack this afternoon and put it by your window. You can dry these things in your room from now on. The south-facing window gets good sunlight, they’ll dry quickly.”

“Mm…” Qingye hurried inside with her head down and didn’t dare come downstairs for a long time, not until she heard Little Angel’s engine sound again.

Xing Wu didn’t come back for lunch, and Qingye finally witnessed Li Lanfang’s feeding routine. When Grandmother wouldn’t eat, she would just put down the bowls and chopsticks, curse, and complain about not wanting to feed her anymore, mainly because she was eager to play mahjong.

Seeing that Grandmother had barely eaten anything, Qingye said to Li Lanfang: “You go ahead, I’ll feed her and help her back to her room.”

Li Lanfang was more than happy to have someone else care for the old lady, dropping a quick “I’ll leave her to you then” before leaving.

When Xing Wu came back in the evening, Yellow Hair and Fat Tiger came with him. They bought some prepared dishes and brought a case of beer, planning to drink at Xing Wu’s place.

Li Lanfang had just finished playing mahjong, and Xing Wu found it strange, going over to ask in a low voice: “Didn’t you say you were helping Uncle Zhao today?”

Li Lanfang casually replied: “I got it wrong, it’s tomorrow.”

“…” Xing Wu had no way to deal with his mother, wondering what his father had seen in her with this behavior.

“Did Grandmother eat at lunch?” Xing Wu asked.

“Yes, yes, Qingye fed her.”

Xing Wu hissed and cursed under his breath: “Would it kill you to gamble a little less? Why make her feed Grandmother?”

Li Lanfang dismissed it: “She volunteered to do it, and she did a good job – finished the whole bowl. Don’t worry about it.”

Xing Wu put his hands on his hips and frowned: “Is that what I’m talking about? She’s not here to be your servant. Can’t you be more considerate?”

Seeing that Xing Wu was about to argue with his mother again, Yellow Hair quickly called out: “Wu-ge, let’s drink!”

Li Lanfang grabbed him and said: “While Liunian is here, calculate this month’s accounts before eating. I’ll go cook a couple of dishes.”

Li Lanfang had only finished elementary school and could barely write. Besides being skilled at mahjong and calculating gambling money, she was lazy about all other calculations. At the end of each month, she would have Xing Wu do the accounting, but her bookkeeping was incomprehensible to normal people.

It was just a notebook without even a cover, with handwritten notes about who got how many haircuts, how much perms and dyes cost, often without dates, all jumbled together. Most entries required Liunian’s memory, but Liunian wasn’t very sharp either – when things got busy with multiple customers, he couldn’t remember how much money was collected or how many customers there were. Plus, Li Lanfang often took money from the register for mahjong, and Liunian had no idea how much she took.

So the monthly reconciliation was mostly guesswork. Usually, Xing Wu and Liunian would stare at each other blankly, and then give Li Lanfang some random number. As long as they weren’t losing money, Li Lanfang didn’t ask questions, and everyone remained confused about the actual figures.

Hearing the commotion downstairs, Qingye came down to see Yellow Hair and Fat Tiger had arrived. Xing Wu was holding a worn notebook and staring at Liunian with an expression of deep suffering: “How the hell are you going to calculate like this? Get a calculator. I’ll call out the numbers, you add them up.”

“Oh.” Liunian dazedly went to find a broken calculator.

Xing Wu called out: “58 plus 30 plus 30 plus four tens plus… hurry up, I haven’t eaten yet.”

While drinking water, Qingye glanced at Liunian, feeling genuinely sorry for him. He could spend forever just finding numbers on the calculator. When Xing Wu said “four tens,” he lost track after pressing two and had to start over. Qingye nearly spat out her water watching these two not-so-bright individuals.

Xing Wu started over, calling out a long string of numbers, then asked Liunian: “How much is it?”

Liunian panicked, his wandering hands having pressed who knows what buttons.

Just as Xing Wu was about to curse, a voice came from the side: “5,380.”

Everyone turned to stare at Qingye. Yellow Hair asked in surprise: “You calculated that in your head?”

Qingye capped her water bottle and said flatly: “What else? Why spend so much time on these few numbers? Don’t elementary school students here make it to high school?”

Li Lanfang had just come in to call them for dinner and stood watching from the side.

Qingye sat down at the counter, opened her notebook to a spreadsheet, and said confidently: “I don’t know how you calculated these accounts, but the numbers are wrong, and the difference is quite significant.”

Everyone was speechless, looking at each other in bewilderment.