Time jumps forward five years, to late October 2019.
“Meng Meng, come cut the onions!” A faint call came from the kitchen.
“Coming!” Ye Meng lazily responded, tossing aside the remote control and walking in.
In the kitchen, her aunt was tossing crab legs one by one into the pot. Ye Meng rolled up her sleeves and walked over, pretending to look sympathetically at the pot: “The crabs are so pitiful.”
Her aunt couldn’t stand her pretense and rolled her eyes dramatically: “Then don’t eat any later.”
“Then I’d be the pitiful one,” Ye Meng said with a cheeky smile. “Honestly, after all these years in Beijing, I barely missed you and Grandma, but I missed your crab dishes.”
Her aunt covered the pot to let it simmer and teased her: “Didn’t you tell us your boss treated you to delicacies every day? What happened, did crabs get expelled from seafood status? Don’t tell me my cooking tastes different—your mouth has been lying since you were little. There’s never been an honest word from you. I’d be possessed to believe you.”
Ye Meng smiled without replying. The struggles of being a drifter in Beijing were something only she truly understood. Her family never supported her move there, and Ye Meng didn’t want to burden them with her troubles. Placing the onion on the cutting board, her mind suddenly went blank. “How do I cut this again?”
Her aunt knew she hadn’t set foot in a kitchen during all those years in Beijing. “However you want. You can even dice it into tiny cubes.”
“Bang!” Ye Meng unhesitatingly brought the knife down, muttering, “Well, this is certainly a cost-effective method.”
“Grandma’s coming over later,” her aunt skillfully cut ginger into small pieces and tossed them into the pot, reminding her gently: “Don’t argue with her. You’ve finally come back for a visit, don’t give the neighbors something to laugh about. This man has good conditions, Grandma put in a lot of effort… Little Liu from the Civil Affairs Bureau said if you like him, he’ll work overtime for you tonight.”
The old lady had brought someone home again without her consent.
“I appreciate that,” Ye Meng stared absent-mindedly at the pot and said, “Please add some cilantro to the crabs. Where’s the chili sauce?”
Ye Meng wandered around the kitchen like a headless fly.
“Right behind your hand,” her aunt pushed the obstructive person away, cursing under her breath, “Crabs, crabs, all day long it’s just crabs. All your cleverness is spent on eating crabs. Out, out! Don’t get in the way here.”
The early autumn rain poured down without warning.
After being driven out of the kitchen, Ye Meng leaned idly on the windowsill, watching the dense raindrops fall from the sky. It was as if she could see thousands of giant webs made of spider silk dropping down, covering the dull city completely, making it hard to breathe.
“What kind of work does Miss Ye do in Beijing?”
Ye Meng turned to look at the man who had appeared silently behind her. He wore a neatly pressed suit and shirt, exuding mature and steady masculinity in every movement. He wasn’t particularly handsome, but his appearance was proper and impeccable—quite outstanding in this small town. But this kind of mature, steady Big Ben style wasn’t her type.
He didn’t talk much, saying only what needed to be said. Most of the time, he just stood quietly to the side, smoking. It was obvious that he had only agreed to this ‘marrying in’ arrangement due to economic pressure.
Yes, the Ye family had suffered terrible luck for generations. Her three aunts couldn’t bear children and were all divorced singles. Only Ye Meng’s father could produce offspring, but unfortunately, his time coincided with the one-child policy. Her father worked at a bank, where they only allowed one child or he would be fired. So the Ye family had just Ye Meng, their one lively sprout.
Fortunately, her grandmother didn’t favor boys over girls, and the whole family lavished care and protection on Ye Meng. After she finished university in Beijing, the entire family repeatedly instructed her to return to her hometown to work, marry, and have children—anything but letting her stay in Beijing.
“I work for someone else,” Ye Meng slowly turned around, stretching without restraint, and curiously asked, “How much did my grandmother promise to pay you to agree to marry me?”
The Ye family treasury probably didn’t have more than a few tens of thousands of yuan. The Ye family was considered a fallen aristocracy in town, with enough gossip and secret history to sustain storytellers for generations. The small tea house in town that specialized in traditional storytelling still occasionally mentioned Ye Meng’s great-grandfather. In short, when her great-grandfather was alive, the family was quite wealthy and respectable. But after his death, the Ye family had more women than men, and without a capable man to support the family, they had declined to the present state. The women of the family still hadn’t come to terms with their fall from that glorious history, especially her grandmother, who would rather Ye Meng remain in town as a fallen lady than be a dependent drifter in Beijing.
However, the Ye family had been in decline for so many years, already at the center of gossip. If this man truly became a live-in son-in-law, he would become a walking target for talk, with plenty of opportunities for people to point fingers at his back. After the earnest persuasion of several aunts taking turns, the old lady finally stopped insisting that the man change his surname and marry into the family, but the children must bear the Ye surname. The old lady could compromise on everything else, but on this matter, she was inflexible.
“To be specific, I only applied for a loan approval from your Uncle,” the gentleman stood by the railing, tapping off his cigarette ash, his expression unchanging. “After we get married, I don’t need to buy a house or car, and your Uncle said he could help me apply for an employee loan at a preferential interest rate. Also, your grandmother said that your family’s old ancestral house at South Pond Temple can have both our names on it, though we’d have to wait until we’re fifty.”
Ye Meng: “That’s a dangerous building. It’ll collapse long before you turn fifty.”
The suit-wearing man was caught off guard by her directness. He froze momentarily, the cigarette had burned halfway down and hadn’t been tapped, falling onto the railing. He instinctively wiped it with his sleeve, leaving a thin scratch on the freshly painted railing. Not even minding the mark left on his suit button, he apologized gently: “I’m sorry, shall I find someone to repaint this railing for you tomorrow?”
Ye Meng stared at him steadily for a couple of seconds, looking him up and down for a long while, before finally letting out a breath: “Alright, thank you. But I think we’re better off as friends. Don’t worry, it won’t affect your loan.”
Her aunt came over with a cup of tea to attend to the guest, and seeing Ye Meng heading downstairs, hurriedly called out to her: “Where are you going?”
“Fang Ya’en broke her leg, I’m going to check on her,” Ye Meng lied without looking back.
Fang Ya’en was her high school classmate, a tough girl who had dropped out of high school to work in Shenzhen. After returning, she ran a suit shop in town. The two had grown up together since childhood. The Ye family was the subject of much gossip in town, and Ye Meng had been a target for talk since she was little. It was always Fang Ya’en who drove away the kids who bullied and harassed her for no reason.
By eight o’clock, Ye Meng and the supposedly “broken-legged” Fang Ya’en had broken records in three escape rooms on the west side of town. The owner quickly brought out a special player’s notebook, asking them to leave their contact information so he could invite them for early testing when new escape rooms were updated.
As they walked toward the parking lot, Fang Ya’en finally remembered to ask: “By the way, weren’t you supposed to be on a blind date tonight? How come you suddenly came out to do escape rooms?”
Ye Meng’s steps slightly faltered, she distanced herself a bit from Fang Ya’en, making sure she was out of striking range before mumbling: “I said I was going to the hospital.”
“What for?” Fang Ya’en should have known better—this girl was using her as an excuse again. Since childhood, there have been countless excuses like “Fang Ya’en has a cold,” “Fang Ya’en fell down the stairs,” “Fang Ya’en is missing,” and so on.
“Your leg was broken,” Ye Meng said, then took off running.
Fang Ya’en exploded on the spot: “…You’re asking for another beating, aren’t you?! Does your grandmother think I’ve survived all these years just by hanging on by a thread?!”
Only Ye Meng dared to use Fang Ya’en as an excuse like this. As a former tough girl, even though Fang Ya’en had now “retired,” no one in town dared to truly provoke her—she was famously crazy.
Furious, Fang Ya’en got in the car wanting to light a cigarette, but after searching extensively, she couldn’t find a lighter and tossed it back. She stepped on the gas and drove onto the road, casually asking: “How long are you staying this time?”
Ye Meng sat in the passenger seat and dropped another bombshell: “I quit my job.”
The car came to a sudden, abrupt halt. Caught off guard, Ye Meng smacked her head hard against the car’s frame that held Fang Ya’en’s son’s photo on the windshield.
“…” Ye Meng said expressionlessly: “You don’t need to be that excited. It’s not like I’m pregnant.”
“Damn, you were a perfectly good PR manager,” Fang Ya’en stared at her in disbelief. “How can you just quit like that?!”
“The company brought in a new partner who placed a new assistant in my position and took away all the projects I’d been working on for years, essentially sidelining me. The boss didn’t comment, so I just quit.”
Fang Ya’en slammed on the brakes again.
Ye Meng got annoyed: “Drive properly! I’ve already bumped my head twice against your son’s photo. If I bump it a third time, should I start calling you ‘mom’?”
“Please don’t, your dad’s still single, and that would be awkward,” Fang Ya’en laughed loudly, no longer so startled. “What was your boss thinking? You’ve been with the company for so many years. Even if you haven’t made great achievements, you’ve certainly put in the hard work. Besides, you’ve practically devoted your life to it these past few years.”
“I know, right?” Ye Meng leaned back lazily in the passenger seat. “But the new partner said my boss was afraid I’d outshine him, so he’d planned this move long ago.”
Twilight was deepening, the road dark and narrow. Many cars were heading into town at this hour. Fang Ya’en alternated between high and low beams, cutting into lanes: “From what you’re saying, it sounds like Gou Kai deliberately pushed them to drive you out. Damn, what about your house?”
“What house?”
“Didn’t you dream about buying a big villa in Beijing to bring your grandmother and aunts to live with you? Weren’t you going to at least manage a three-bedroom place this year to make do?”
“Not buying anymore. Besides, those grand ladies in our family wouldn’t want to go even if I bought a place,” Ye Meng looked at the sparse night scene of the town and said, “And I don’t plan to go back after returning this time.”
The car passed by a supermarket. Fang Ya’en went in to buy a lighter and spent ages queuing to check out. The crowdedness of the supermarket was comparable to a clearance sale held by a boss who had run away with his sister-in-law, leaving his wife to liquidate the stock. The streets were deserted because almost everyone in town was squeezed in there.
Ye Meng, sitting in the car, spotted a few thuggish-looking loiterers squatting under a streetlight, smoking with sly grins.
This was the norm for small-town youth.
Ye Meng had long had enough of her lazy, unconstrained life, but she was also extremely tired of the scheming and intrigue of the big city.
With the new partner coming in to sideline her, and Gou Kai not speaking up for her at all, Ye Meng felt that all her years of hard work had gone to waste. Even if the partner hadn’t said anything, she would have resigned voluntarily.
Fang Ya’en finished a cigarette before getting in the car. While rummaging through her purse for perfume, she said to Ye Meng: “You’re not going back? Have you thought it through? You studied for five years to test out of here. Wasn’t the whole point to take your grandmother and the others away from this place? The Ye family has had its ups and downs for so many years. Just when it looked like you were about to make something of yourself, you’re back to square one.”
Ning Sui town was small, but populous, with gossip flying everywhere. Ye Meng had experienced this deeply since childhood. When she was little, her test papers with zero marks were posted in the town hall, and the townspeople bullied the Ye family for having weak and meek men.
Even now, people still say, “Ye Meng? Isn’t that the Ye family’s daughter who scored a zero? Old Master Ye was truly unlucky—his son was weak and cowardly, his daughter-in-law birthed three daughters who couldn’t bear children, and when they finally had a great-granddaughter, she turned out to be a girl. With average intelligence, too. Took five years of high school to get into university.”
Fang Ya’en didn’t think Ye Meng had average intelligence; she was just naturally lazy and couldn’t be bothered to care.
“My grandmother is the type who would die here no matter what. I can’t move her. She still hopes I’ll marry and have children here to tend the Ye family graves for life. Forget it, I don’t want to go back to Beijing. I’ll find a job here.” Ye Meng added, “Oh, and stop at the intersection ahead.”
Fang Ya’en didn’t bother trying to persuade her. She finished touching up her makeup in the sun visor mirror and prepared to start the car: “Where to?”
“To Alley Street to eat crabs.”
Fang Ya’en sighed: “Your intelligence is truly all spent on eating crabs. But not today—my husband’s not around and I still need to help my son with his homework. Another day, my treat.”
“Your son isn’t even in kindergarten yet. What homework does he need help with?”
“What kind of memory do you have? My son is already in elementary school. And nowadays, children compete on this stuff—I can’t let him fall behind at the starting line. After all, neighbor Wang’s kid already knows how to buy soy sauce using English.”
“Alright then,” Ye Meng hadn’t planned to bring her along anyway. “I’ll go by myself. After eating, I might stroll around, and perhaps have a romantic encounter or something. It’s been so many years since I left, I wonder if the younger brothers in town have grown up yet.”
“Tsk, tsk, you’re persistent about dating younger men.” Fang Ya’en smiled and shook her head.
However, the crab restaurant had relocated without posting a new address. The entire alley street seemed slated for demolition, with all shop signs completely removed.
At this time, the town was pitch black. The camel-back-shaped mountains were vaguely hidden in the murky twilight. The sparse, barely functional streetlights also shone casually, neither fully on nor off. The moon, pressing against the last thin layer of light at the horizon, barely allowed her to discern directions.
Ye Meng decided to visit the park across the street.
She sauntered, not seeing any younger men along the way, but spotted several wrinkled old men practicing tai chi sword, each push and turn to embody the elegance and contentment of small-town elders.
Then she reached the lakeside and saw someone.
To be precise, she first noticed the crab, and only belatedly realized there was a person next to it.
There were no lights here. The stone pillar lamps along the lake were even more capricious than the streetlights, choosing to go on strike altogether. The moonlight, however, seemed especially generous, pouring down its clear radiance, making the calm lake surface look like a giant mirror, glistening with ripples that formed barely noticeable circles.
In this dim light, Ye Meng could still see clearly that the crab on the railing was cooked—
And that the man looked young, possibly one of those “younger brothers.”
He sat on the railing dressed entirely in black, with his black sports jacket zipped up, the collar standing upright against his long nape. He wore a black bucket hat, with wet hair at the nape of his neck glistening in the moonlight, still dripping water. His back was soaked, as if he had just showered and hadn’t had time to dry off before being called to the lakeside.
For some reason, this tall, broad-shouldered figure with a slightly lowered head struck Ye Meng as somewhat pitiful, like an abandoned stray dog.
Perhaps sensing something, the man with his head buried in his collar suddenly looked up, revealing a lean chin, a tense jaw still damp, and earrings that gave off a cold gleam in the pale moonlight. In this town, most who wore earrings were small-time thugs, but few wore them with such ascetic, cold air.
The man caught a glimpse of Ye Meng standing below the railing. He turned his head, his wet eyes dark and deep, emotions complex, as if waiting for an unknown judgment.
“What do you want?”
The stray dog spoke. His voice was pleasant to hear—like cold sake on a scorching day beside the lake that gave off a faint smell of unripe fish. It carried a distinct coldness that felt refreshing, though the voice was somewhat hoarse, suggesting recent vocal cord strain.
Ye Meng was first startled, then quickly looked around. The surroundings were silent, with only a few seemingly lost leaves floating about. There was nothing else he could be talking to—no lights, not even a passing ant. Except for her.
“Keep staring and I’ll charge you,” the stray dog turned away with a cold gaze.
“…”
Ye Meng blinked in astonishment. These younger brothers were stingy and prideful these days.
“Do you need something else?”
Fine, Ye Meng cleared her throat lightly. She was always good at brazening things out, so she might as well be thick-skinned—
“May I ask you for…”
“No money for dating? Why are you trying to pick up girls?” The stray dog inexplicably glanced back at her in the pale moonlight, his eyes slightly squinted, his cold eyelids furrowed into three layers from impatience: “If there’s something urgent, I’ve got to go.”
Only then did Ye Meng notice the black earphone wire emerging from his collar.
So he was on a phone call?
Three minutes earlier: “Little Yu-ge.”
“What?”
The person said: “Where’s your computer? Let me borrow it to download some software, want to check something.”
“Keep looking and I’ll charge you.”
The person said: “Don’t be like that, it’s legitimate work—”
“Do you need something else?” he interrupted directly.
The person said: “You miser! Don’t make everything about money!”
“No money for dating? Why are you trying to pick up girls? If there’s something urgent, I’ve got to go.”
…
The atmosphere was silent. The lake’s surface rippled slightly. In the early autumn small town, all was quiet, without even the sound of a dog barking.
The stray dog casually removed his earphones and hung them outside his upturned collar. The face under the hat brim was rather pale, with clearly defined, rounded lip contours. Sitting on the railing, he glanced down at her, seemingly quite accustomed to being approached by girls: “Want my WeChat?”
“No,” Ye Meng didn’t particularly like this type. Thinking quickly, she lied shamelessly, “I was asking about the address of this crab restaurant.”