Chapter 16 Drifting Apart

Chapter 16: Alienation

It must have been late at night when it started raining outside. The sound of raindrops rattling against the window was loud, like it was trying to smash through the glass.

Mou Wen, still groggy, pulled the blanket over her head and turned over, accidentally knocking her "injured" ankle. She frowned and let out a little groan.

Wearing high heels didn't just wreck her feet—her whole body ached like it had been taken apart and put back wrong.

Her phone rang along with a clap of thunder, jerking Mou Wen awake. She opened her eyes.

It wasn't Xie Chong. It was Chu Ling.

"Mou Wen, I'm home! My suitcase handle broke, and there's a hailstorm outside... Mou Wen..."

"Where are you?" Mou Wen said as she jumped to the floor, throwing on whatever clothes she could grab.

"I'm at the entrance to the neighborhood."

"Wait for me. Don't worry. I'm coming right now!"

Mou Wen grabbed two umbrellas and bolted out. Only when she got outside did she see it was really hailing. Hailstones the size of pebbles came crashing down from the sky, bounced off the ground, and rolled away. Mou Wen popped open the big umbrella and ran toward the neighborhood entrance. Her ankle was soaked from the rain, and it hurt badly. But she couldn't worry about that now.

Chu Ling stood under the bus stop shelter, wrapping her arms around herself, looking utterly helpless.

Mou Wen rushed over, threw her clothes over Chu Ling, and tilted the umbrella to block the hail.

"You cold?" Mou Wen hugged Chu Ling's shoulders tightly. "Don't be scared—hail doesn't last long, only ten or fifteen minutes."

She had seen worse hail out on the grasslands.

That hail was the size of eggs, pounding the sheep pen, scaring the lambs into bleating and huddling together. She had paced anxiously inside the yurt, wanting to help the lambs, but when she pushed open the door, a fierce gust of wind blew her back inside. A hailstone hit her forehead and immediately left a big bump.

Having seen hail that big, she wasn't afraid of this little stuff.

"Thank you, Mou Wen. I was so freaked out just now." Chu Ling said in a teary voice. "I was fine when I got out of the taxi, but as soon as I grabbed my luggage, it suddenly started pouring. I tried to run home, but a few steps in, it started hailing."

Chu Ling had never seen hail like this—it was coming down thick, and she felt like she was going to be pelted to death. She was soaked, and the wind blew at her from every which way. She was freezing to death.

"Don't worry, don't worry. I'll make you something to warm you up."

Mou Wen brought Chu Ling home and told her to take a hot shower first, while she cooked black fungus chicken soup for her. It was originally the soup for the evening banquet—one table had six fewer guests, but the dishes were still served. When Mou Wen left, she asked the waiter to box it up, planning to make noodles with it over the weekend.

Now she reheated it and added a little of the mushrooms Ge Yunqing had sent her, some greens, and noodles. She told Chu Ling to eat it while it's hot.

She asked Chu Ling if the research trip had gone smoothly and if America was fun. Chu Ling said the trip was tiring but otherwise fun; she hadn't gotten to see much of America because she was working the whole time, only going to the supermarket to buy gifts before leaving. Oh, and the athletes were all very healthy—just like you!

Mou Wen stood up, hands on her hips, and asked, "This kind of healthy?"

"Yeah!"

Mou Wen's phone lit up, and she grabbed it quickly—but it wasn't from anyone. Chu Ling asked her, "Expecting a call?"

Mou Wen said, a little miffed, "No."

She didn't know why Xie Chong had suddenly stopped texting her back. She couldn't say she felt terrible, but it was like a little hand kept scratching at her heart, squeezing and letting go. Mou Wen was unfamiliar with this feeling and didn't know how to make it stop. Fortunately, Chu Ling was back, so it didn't bother her as much.

Chu Ling had brought her lots of gifts—lipstick, face masks, refrigerator magnets... Mou Wen said they were too expensive, and Chu Ling said, "We'll share them!"

The two turned off the lights and lay on their own little beds. Chu Ling's sleep schedule was all over the place—the jet lag would take days to get over. She was chattier than usual with Mou Wen.

She said, "I think I'm getting promoted, Mou Wen. My boss talked to me and said they want me to be assistant team leader.

Now there are two directions I can choose: entertainment or sports. But I don't want either—I want to go into news.

Mou Wen, I've been thinking about the future lately: maybe in ten years, I'll become someone really impressive, able to have my own show..."

"You can do it, Chu Ling," Mou Wen said. "Your writing is so good, and you're so capable. You'll have your own show before you know it."

They chatted, and as dawn approached, Mou Wen fell asleep without even noticing.

The next day, because she had to check out Mr. Liao's villa, she didn't need to go to the office, so she got up a little later. She put on a white shirt and jeans, stuffed her blazer into her backpack, and headed out.

She had to schlep from Suzhou Street all the way to Shunyi.

On the subway, she pulled out the floor plan of Mr. Liao's neighborhood to study it. Her phone rang—it was Xie Chong, of all people.

The little hand that had been scratching at Mou Wen's heart suddenly let go. She answered happily, and before Xie Chong could even speak, she said, "Xie Chong! Do you know how amazing I am? Yesterday! I signed a letter of intent for a standalone villa!"

This was the first time she had called him by his first name. She hadn't thought about it—his name just slipped out. She really wanted to share her "accomplishment" with him, even though it might not seem like much to him.

She called his name so naturally, so happily, so warmly.

The line went quiet. Mou Wen said his name again: "Xie Chong?"

"Not calling me Mr. Xie anymore?" Xie Chong's voice was hoarse—he'd had a lot to drink the night before. His phone had been taken away by Qian Song, who said no one was allowed to check their phones while drinking. They had finished drinking around 3 a.m., and he had seen Mou Wen's message, meaning to call her back the next day.

"Oh, sorry, Mr. Xie." Mou Wen's voice dropped, that hard-to-read feeling creeping back in.

Xie Chong chuckled on the other end of the line. "You signed a standalone villa? That's worth celebrating. How about this—you said you'd treat me to a meal? That makes two meals you owe me."

"Then you'll have to wait—until the contract is actually signed and I get the money..."

"Fine." Xie Chong didn't say anything else. He still sounded so polite. "I was just calling you back. It was too late when we finished last night—I didn't want to disturb your sleep."

Mou Wen's signal was bad. By the time her signal came back, Xie Chong had already hung up.

Xie Chong's politeness gave Mou Wen nothing to fault, but deep down she secretly wished he wouldn't be like that—that he would have a little more warmth. She didn't like his politeness. It made her feel so far away from him.

Back in Yakeshi, if anyone acted like Xie Chong, people would say, "What are you being so formal for? Are you looking down on me?"

Even though Mou Wen had come to Beijing, she still preferred the way people in Yakeshi got along. When you see a good friend, you run up to them, punch them twice or give them a hug, and then it's all lively and warm.

But Xie Chong wasn't that way.

Mou Wen thought: He's not from Yakeshi. He's a Beijing local. He won't be as warm and open as I am.

Mou Wen didn't want Xie Chong to mess with her head. The only thing that mattered that day was Mr. Liao.

Mou Wen didn't know Mr. Liao's first name—even the letter of intent he signed just said "Mr. Liao." She also didn't know what Mr. Liao did for a living. She didn't want to ask too many questions, afraid he might think she was nosy.

When she got to the entrance of the neighborhood, she saw Xiao Gu was already there.

Xiao Gu had driven her husband's car that day—a beat-up old Jetta. Xiao Gu had originally wanted to pick up Mou Wen, but Mou Wen didn't want her to make a detour.

Xiao Gu looked exhausted. She told Mou Wen that her kid had vomited several times the night before and had been taken to the ER—it turned out to be food poisoning.

"Then you didn't need to come!" Mou Wen said. "I can take the measurements myself. You sneak off and take care of your kid. I'll send you the data, and you can go register it."

"No way." Xiao Gu said. "You can't measure the house alone. What if there's danger? Some people are messed up—if you get taken advantage of, you wouldn't even have a leg to stand on."

Mou Wen stepped forward and gave Xiao Gu a hug: "Xiao Gu, you're so good to me. Why are you so good to me? I really like you."

Xiao Gu said, "If this Mr. Liao signs the deal, will you treat me to dry pot duck head?"

"Five days straight of dry pot duck head!"

Mou Wen met Mr. Liao again.

He'd made a special trip from the city and had just walked in. He had prepared bottled water for Mou Wen and Xiao Gu.

Mou Wen and Xiao Gu bent down to put on shoe covers when Mr. Liao said, "No need. Don't bother. The place is going to be renovated anyway."

They put them on regardless.

Mr. Liao gave them a tour of the house—a big standalone villa with a basement and three floors above ground, wrapped around by a courtyard of about 300 square meters.

Mr. Liao said this was his wedding house.

He and his fiancée were planning to get married next year.

Mou Wen sincerely congratulated him, then asked if he had any other requests. Mr. Liao said, "My fiancée doesn't want to be involved in this. She's into American country style. Use some distressed wood furniture, throw in a little patterned tile or something. Basically, make it feel free and open."

Great. Mou Wen jotted down Mr. Liao's requirements in her notebook. When she finished writing, she looked up and caught Mr. Liao staring at her.

"You remind me of a friend," Mr. Liao said. "An old friend."

"Oh, really?" Mou Wen said. "Then I'm honored."

"I'm usually pretty busy. From now on, I can only meet in person for an hour or two at lunch or after work to go over the renovation details," Mr. Liao added. "If you're free."

"I'm free," Mou Wen said. "I'll work around Mr. Liao's schedule."

She thought Mr. Liao was a very warm, friendly person. He kept smiling at her, and when he couldn't quite catch what she said, he'd lean in a little closer. His eyes never left her the whole time. Mou Wen tried changing the subject a few times to dodge his gaze—didn't fully work—but at least it eased the awkwardness.

Xiao Gu was chattier than usual that day.

Sometimes she'd call out to Mou Wen mid-measurement: "Engineer Mou, can you come check this? My right eye's catching a slant."

"Engineer Mou, I'm noting this here: the wall's cracked."

"..."

Even with all the interruptions, Mr. Liao didn't seem annoyed. Mou Wen's opinion of him went up a notch.

After they left Mr. Liao's place, Xiao Gu said she'd drop Mou Wen at the subway station. On the way, Xiao Gu told Mou Wen a story: there used to be this really pretty female designer at the company who got too close to a client, and one day the wife showed up and went ballistic. It became a huge mess, and the designer ended up leaving.

Xiao Gu stopped there, and Mou Wen got it—she was warning her to watch her relationship with Mr. Liao.

"He's got a wife!" Mou Wen said. "And I don't even like him."

"Some guys don't care if they've got a wife or not," Xiao Gu said. "Engineer Mou, you just graduated. Everything's new to you, and you think everyone's great. Sometimes the ones with the biggest smiles are the ones you can't tell are bad people."

Mou Wen really thought about what Xiao Gu said. She was someone who took advice well, and she figured Xiao Gu was right: "Then from now on, will you come with me every time I see Mr. Liao?" she asked.

"As long as I'm free."

Mou Wen didn't want to drag things out. She planned to put together a proposal right away to avoid any complications down the road. She decided to work overtime this weekend to finish the plan and reach out to Mr. Liao on Monday.

That evening, everyone else had left the office, and the AC was off. Her long hair was sticking to her neck, which was really uncomfortable. So she casually pulled it up into a high bun and turned to push open the window.

The night outside made her feel a little disoriented for a moment.

Since it had rained the night before, the building looked freshly washed, almost spotless. The tip of the Central TV Tower was disappearing into the clouds. Lights were blazing everywhere. Mou Wen leaned on the windowsill for a while, letting the breeze wash over her.

She thought of Xie Chong again.

She was thinking about him more and more often.

She remembered how Xie Chong had pushed open the door yesterday and strode toward her, how he looked asleep on his couch, how he'd brought her dumplings and labor fees at night... Was Xie Chong the type of person Xiao Gu was talking about? The kind of bad guy who'd casually deceive her just because she was new to the world?

He wasn't.

Mou Wen didn't believe he was.

Because he was polite and kept his distance. He wasn't like Mr. Liao—Mr. Liao seemed like the shady one. When he talked, he'd always deliberately lean in closer, which made her uncomfortable.

She wanted to call Xie Chong but didn't know what excuse to use. She thought for a long time and decided to call him under the guise of a dinner follow-up.

There was music playing on Xie Chong's end. He told her he'd call back later and hung up. Xie Chong was at a concert with Qian Song, Jiang Wu, and others. Qian Song had gotten some tickets and invited the people from their equestrian class to go together.

The group was a mix of men and women, and except for Jiang Wu, they were all from wealthy families. But Jiang Wu held absolute authority among them because they were all afraid of her. When Jiang Wu had been her father's equestrian teaching assistant, she had scolded them relentlessly. That intimidation carried through to this day.

That day, they arranged for Jiang Wu and Xie Chong to sit together. When Xie Chong answered his phone quietly, Jiang Wu glanced at him from the corner of her eye. The name in his contacts was so long—she couldn't make it out, but she felt the person might be someone special.

At least Xie Chong didn't dislike them.

Xie Chong's contact name for people he hated was "S.B."—both Jiang Wu and Qian Song knew that.

After the concert ended, Qian Song suggested getting together for a drink. Jiang Wu said, "Some other time. Someone's picking me up." She then walked toward a luxury car parked by the street. She got in without looking back.

Xie Chong had some drinks with the others.

He was in a bad mood. One glass in, he already felt dizzy. Drinking required the right time and place, he figured. He refused to drink more, saying the liquor smelled foul and made him nauseous.

The others didn't dare provoke him when they saw his mood. He rarely acted like this.

"I'm leaving." Xie Chong dropped the words and walked off. The driver asked where he wanted to go. He said home.

That day was strange—no matter how he tried, his key wouldn't open his own door. So he called Mou Wen: "The door lock you guys installed is broken."

"The door lock isn't part of our installation," Mou Wen said.

"It is part of your installation." Xie Chong insisted.

Mou Wen could tell he seemed to be in a bad mood, so she stopped arguing and said, "Hold on a moment. I'm on my way home. I'll come by your place first and take a look."

Mou Wen saw Xie Chong sitting against the door. When he saw her, he rubbed his eyes with his palm and said, "Is this the Engineer Mou who signed the standalone villa?"

"Yes. The universe's super invincible awesome designer, Engineer Mou." Mou Wen reached out her hand to him. "Keys."

Xie Chong stood up and fumbled for his keys. He felt like he must have been drinking fake liquor that day—why else couldn't he stand steady? He tried several times to pull the keys from his pocket but couldn't get them out.

Mou Wen stepped forward and steadied his arm.

She was surprisingly strong—she held him up with ease. She accurately fished the keys out of his pocket and, while unlocking the door, suggested to Xie Chong: "Seriously, get a fingerprint lock. They're going to become more and more common in the future."

"I don't like fingerprint locks," Xie Chong said. "What's the fun in opening a door then?"

"Opening a door—what matters is the opening. What fun is there to be had?"

"You wouldn't understand," Xie Chong said softly, leaning his head against the door. "This key opening this lock—isn't that fun?"

After speaking, Xie Chong's gaze fell on the lock, lost in thought. He said it casually, but there was something deep behind it.

Mou Wen didn't grasp his meaning; she just focused on getting the door open. As she fiddled with the lock, she wondered: How could this lock be part of our package? I made the quote myself. Did we throw it in as a freebie later?

The door swung open, and she grabbed Xie Chong's arm, saying, "Come on, let's go home." Seeing he was slow to react, she yanked him inside.

Xie Chong stumbled a little and grumbled, "You're so mean."

"Huh?" Mou Wen looked puzzled. "How was I mean? I came to help you unlock the door, and you call me mean!"

"You are mean," Xie Chong said as he slipped off his shoes and turned on the light. The light was too bright, stinging his eyes, so he shaded them with his hand. As he walked further in, he noticed no sound behind him.

Turning around, he saw Mou Wen hadn't changed her shoes and was already preparing to leave.

"Are you afraid of me?" Xie Chong asked. "Why don't you come in and sit for a bit?" He just looked at her, like he was sure she wouldn't leave.

"No," Mou Wen said. "It's too late. Get some rest, goodnight." She turned and left, feeling a little dazed as she stepped out of the building. Glancing at her phone, she saw there were no more buses. She'd spent way too much today.

She forgot to get him to sign the work order.

If I get the work order signed, I can expense it, Mou Wen thought.

Just then, she heard the building door open behind her, and Xie Chong called out, "Mou Wen?"

She turned to look at him.

He wasn't happy.

It was weird—he hadn't said anything, but Mou Wen could tell he was upset. But she didn't ask, just said, "Why did you come down?"

"I'll take you home," Xie Chong said. "It's too late; I don't want anything bad to happen."

"This is Beijing. What could happen?"

"Beijing's got more ghosts and goblins than anywhere," Xie Chong said. "Come on, I'll call you a cab."

"I can call a cab myself," Mou Wen said.

"You won't, Mou Wen," Xie Chong said with certainty. "I know you too well. You won't call a cab. You're such a tightwad."

He looked calm, like he was joking, and in the past, Mou Wen wouldn't have taken it to heart. But that day, she could tell Xie Chong was doing it on purpose.

He seemed to need to say it to let out whatever he was feeling.

Mou Wen walked up to him and extended her hand. "Give me money."

"What money?"

"Door unlocking service—that'll be fifty yuan," Mou Wen said.

Xie Chong was never going to give her the money. He told Mou Wen, "Watch this—I'll show you a magic trick." Then, under her gaze, he tossed his wallet into the tree.

In late August in Beijing, the leaves were still lush, and the wallet flew up and made the branches sway, like they were welcoming it.

There probably wasn't much money in the wallet, because it didn't fall down.

Mou Wen was genuinely angry. She said to Xie Chong, "I don't care what's going on with you, but you can't treat me like this." She was on the verge of tears and had to sniff to hold back the sadness.

"Get lost," she said, then turned and ran off.