The dim sunlight was gradually reclaimed by the clouds, and the moon hung eerily in the sky. The pale moonlight slipped into the hospital room, covering Lai Hui’s black sandals and quietly climbing onto the white bedsheet, then onto her pale face. In the room, aside from Cheng Lan hidden in the darkness, everything was pale. Lai Hui held Cheng Lan’s hand, staying with her until dawn. Doctors and nurses came in, and Ouyang also visited, but no one spoke. In such a somber space, it seemed only fitting to say, “Please accept my condolences,” so no one dared to speak, and even their breaths sounded mournful. At dawn, Zhou Yuxian, who had just gotten off the plane, rushed to the hospital. He pulled the parched Lai Hui out of the hospital room, made her drink some porridge, and then took her back to Nanling. Tucking the doll-like Lai Hui into bed, he noticed her staring blankly at him. Zhou Yuxian felt a pang in his chest. He took off his shoes, climbed into bed, gently embraced her, covering her eyes with his hand, and softly said, “I won’t let you suffer like this!” Feeling the slight tremor of her body in his arms, and then the gentle brush of her eyelashes against his palm, he released his hand. Seeing that Lai Hui had closed her eyes, he moved his hand to her waist. “Sleep for a while, I’ll stay with you!” Lai Hui turned to her side, burying her face in his chest. Zhou Yuxian felt her body trembling slightly, thinking she was cold, he was about to pull the blanket tighter when he heard a faint sob…
Chapter 9
Lai Hui sobbed into the night, falling asleep before the cold, dark room, with Zhou Yuxian’s light snoring, perhaps not even snoring, just deep breathing, a sound that did not respond to her loneliness, making her feel there was no need to cry anymore. She adjusted the air conditioning to 28 degrees and fell into a deep, dark sleep.
The next morning, when she opened the large curtains, unexpectedly, it was a bright sunny day. The sunlight poured in like a golden waterfall, driving away the gloom to the corners of the room. Lai Hui stood barefoot in the radiant circle of gold, with blue skies and white clouds, and an airplane leaving a clear white trail in the sky. She yawned, turned around, and found a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from the bottom of the wardrobe, tying her hair up with an ebony hairpin, leaving a wisp of red curl on her cheek. She planned to visit Cheng Lan and her mother in the hospital later, so she didn’t apply any makeup.
“Are you up?” Zhou Yuxian pushed the door open, tossing the financial newspaper onto the sofa. Turning around, he saw Lai Hui, not in her usual seductive makeup but dressed in a simple and fresh manner, momentarily taken aback, remembering the first time he saw her, she looked just like this.
Zhou Yuxian met Lai Hui four years ago when he was on a business trip to City B. The client hosting him was an old man in his fifties, surnamed Jiang. Zhou Yuxian couldn’t remember his exact appearance, but what stuck was his face, shiny like it was coated with tung oil, and his belly, which seemed to contain a wine barrel, making even sitting or standing a struggle. His employees mentioned that Jiang had worn out several executive chairs, and to stand up, he had to lean on the desk; you could see the handprints worn into the surface. Indeed, when Zhou Yuxian went to his office for business talks, he noticed two faded prints on the shiny desktop. To win over Zhou Yuxian, a major client, Jiang invited him to the “Heaven on Earth” in City B. Entering the luxurious private room, Zhou Yuxian saw five or six pretty college girls sitting in a row. He had been married for three years, and although his marriage wasn’t happy, he rarely strayed. Jiang, having done his homework, thought Zhou Yuxian wasn’t interested in prostitutes, so he had gone to the trouble of finding students from prestigious universities. That night, Lai Hui was among them. Among the college students present, she was considered the most attractive, but compared to Li Yueqin, an actress by profession, she was like a pheasant to a phoenix. Zhou Yuqian didn’t pay much attention to her, had there not been the conflict. The men there that day were seasoned in the ways of nightlife; how could inexperienced students compete? Soon, the female students were almost all drunk. Only Lai Hui remained vigilant, refusing to drink no matter what the men said. Midway through, she slung her bag over her shoulder to leave, but Jiang Zong would not let her go. In the tussle, Lai Hui was slapped and fell onto the sofa. Zhou Yuqian watched coldly from the sidelines; girls who crave vanity deserved a lesson, he thought. To put it bluntly, these students had no backing, and even if these men did something to them tonight, they would have to swallow their grievances. It wasn’t until Lai Hui, with a few buttons torn off her blouse, grabbed a wine bottle and looked ready to fight, that Zhou Yuqian took a sip of his drink and said in a calm tone, “Jiang Zong, let’s end it here for today. I’ll take her home.” Perhaps out of dislike for Jiang Zong, or just being fed up with the murky atmosphere, for whatever reason, he ultimately helped Lai Hui. However, when similar situations arose later, Zhou Yuqian never intervened again. When he could no longer bear to watch, he would simply leave, unwilling to get involved in any trouble.
Zhou Yuqian always remembered how stubborn that pretty face was; clearly on the verge of tears, yet she stubbornly bit her lip. He thought she was strong back then, only later realizing she was so scared she forgot how to cry because—she had shed many tears for Xie Jiayi. “You haven’t left… to go to work?” Lai Hui raised her wrist, the date on her watch showing July 22nd, a Thursday. Zhou Yuqian quickly composed himself and said, “I was just about to leave. Are you going out?” “I want to visit Cheng Lan at the hospital.” “I’ll give you a lift on my way.”
Lai Hui got out at the hospital entrance, and Zhou Yuqian watched her figure disappear through the hospital doors. Now, that face showed no trace of stubbornness; he knew it was his doing. With money as the medium, Lai Hui became an item, negotiated, signed, and sealed, simple and pure. Her freedom, pride, and stubbornness were all sold, turning her into a bird kept for show, without thought or soul. He realized he wasn’t quite satisfied with his creation. As the car sped towards the bustling city, Zhou Yuqian buried himself in documents. Whether satisfied or not, he was a businessman, only concerned with profit and loss. Love, art—those abstract things—were not for businessmen. He knew how to fill in numbers on a check to withdraw money from the bank, but he didn’t know what to fill in his heart to withdraw something of the same value from elsewhere. All he felt was a desolate emptiness, which could only be filled with money.
