Chapter 22 Clinging Desire

Chapter 22: Longing

The next day, Mou Wen was woken up by Chu Ling.

Chu Ling wore a plaid shirt and held a book, asking Mou Wen if she looked like a girl who was serious about her studies. Mou Wen said she'd need to tie a headband for that.

This was Chu Ling's first official date with Mr. A, and she was so excited about it. Mou Wen put on her coat and walked her to the entrance of the complex. Mr. A was already waiting there, holding a bouquet of flowers. Having just returned from Boston, Mr. A was still jet-lagged—his eyes were red, but he looked incredibly fresh, clearly thrilled to be going on a date with Chu Ling.

The bouquet he bought must have been picked flower by flower, because every single one was in full bloom. Chu Ling placed the flowers into Mou Wen's arms, and Mr. A said to Mou Wen, "Please take care of these flowers for me. I'll treat you to a meal next time."

Mou Wen said, "Ugh, you lovebirds are so sappy!"

She watched Chu Ling and Mr. A walk away.

Petite Chu Ling came up to about the shoulder of tall, lanky Mr. A. They both wore black coats and the red plaid scarves Mr. A had bought earlier. Mou Wen couldn't help but text Chu Ling: "Chu Ling, Mr. A was right—you two are a match made in heaven!"

Some people in this world should get to be with the ones they love, right?

Mou Wen didn't have her own soulmate, but she had an apartment to check out. Someone had replied to her post on the Shuimu Qinghua forum, saying there was a place for rent near the east gate of Tsinghua. Mou Wen loved Wudaokou—tons of great Korean restaurants and cute clothing shops there.

When she arrived, someone was waiting for her. A man around thirty, with glasses lenses almost a centimeter thick, who'd glance at you for just a second before looking away, all shifty-eyed. His voice was a low mumble when he described the place, like he was scared of talking to people.

The apartment was also on the first floor. Mou Wen left the door wide open before stepping in with him.

It was a very run-down place. The spare bedroom for rent had a bed that looked ready to fall apart. The kitchen had a dining table coated in a layer of grease. Mou Wen kept an open mind, thinking as she looked around, "If I rented this, I could fix it up this way or set it up that way—it'd be so cozy." Her good attitude lasted right up until she hit the bathroom. When she saw the toilet—its original color completely hidden under layers of yellow grime—she almost gagged.

But she kept her cool, told the man she'd think about it, and hurried out.

After seeing that place, Mou Wen realized how much work Chu Ling must have put into finding the apartment they were renting now. Even if she shared a place with someone, she wasn't about to be a maid scrubbing toilets every day!

Just thinking about that toilet made Mou Wen feel sick again.

She'd always had a thing about cleanliness, as Ge Yunqing put it: "Our Wenwen can't stand anything dirty." She would never, ever use a pit toilet out in the pastoral areas. Things at home could be old, but never dirty. So her parents had always been careful, keeping the house spotless.

That toilet was enough to make Mou Wen lose it, but the thought of seeing Xie Chong cheered her right up.

In Mou Wen's heart, Xie Chong was her "other half"—the side she longed for. She liked Xie Chong and saw him as her direction in life. One day Chu Ling asked her what kind of life she wanted, and she blurted out: "A life like one of my clients'."

Now she was going to meet "that other kind of life," and her mood lifted instantly. She did a big grocery run, unconsciously humming a tune again. Her cart gradually piled up, and she kept squatting down to check, afraid she might be missing something.

At checkout, she pulled out her membership card for points. As she bent down to grab her stuff from the counter, she heard someone say: "Paying in cash, using membership card for points."

She looked up and saw Xie Chong.

She hadn't expected him to come find her here.

She asked in surprise, "How did you get here? How did you know I'd be here?"

"I could guess with my toes that you'd come here to stock up first."

If she was going to cook at his place, she must have planned a menu and needed to shop ahead of time; if she was shopping, she'd come to Chengxiang Warehouse because it was cheaper than other supermarkets; after buying things, she'd take the bus, not a taxi... Xie Chong could figure all this out without even thinking. "Mou·Scrooge·Wen" would definitely do it this way.

At checkout, Xie Chong paid in cash. The cashier looked at Xie Chong, then at Mou Wen, and said, "You two are such a good match. So sweet together."

Mou Wen was afraid Xie Chong might be annoyed and wanted to explain, but Xie Chong had already grabbed the bags and walked off. Mou Wen followed him and tried to take one of the shopping bags, but Xie Chong pulled his hand away and said, "I've got a task for you."

"What task?"

"Can you buy me a roasted sweet potato?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"I need to fart."

When Xie Chong woke up that morning, his stomach felt off, like it was bloated. Based on his limited life experience, the move was to eat some sweet potatoes and let out some gas. When Mou Wen heard that, she held it in for a few seconds, then couldn't help it—she burst out laughing, holding her stomach.

Xie Chong shot her a glare. "What are you laughing at?"

Mou Wen wiped away the tears of laughter and said, "Nothing. Let me get you some little pills instead."

She took Xie Chong to a small clinic behind the supermarket.

The clinic was run by a retired old doctor. Previously, when Mou Wen had a fever that wouldn't go down, Chu Ling brought her here for a small injection in the butt—sixteen yuan—and she was cured. From then on, the old doctor became "Beijing's miracle doctor" in Mou Wen's eyes. She brought Xie Chong to see the old doctor. Before entering, Xie Chong said, "I've never wronged you. Why are you trying to harm me?"

"Shut up." Mou Wen shoved him inside.

The old doctor happened to be in. He listened to Xie Chong's chest, asked about his symptoms, then went into the back room. Two minutes later, he came out holding two small white paper packets, each containing a few pills. He instructed Xie Chong to take one packet at a time, once in the morning and once in the evening.

"How much?" Xie Chong asked.

"Four fifty," the doctor replied.

Xie Chong had never seen a "four-fifty" medical visit—no, actually, he had. When he was sick as a child, his grandmother would take him to "small clinics" like this one, where he'd get a shot or take some medicine. The medicine was wrapped up the same way, and he'd take it and get better.

He paid, and as soon as he stepped out, Mou Wen grabbed one of the packets, tore it open, and commanded him to "open up." Before Xie Chong could understand what she meant, she pressed her whole palm against his mouth, using the "palm wind" to send the pills to the back of his throat, then tilted his chin up, forcing him to swallow.

Xie Chong was stunned. Mou Wen then said smugly, "When I was little, that's how I fed medicine to my little stray dog, hehe. And when the little sheep got sick, they took it that way too."

After saying that, she noticed Xie Chong's gaze seemed like it wanted to flay her alive, so she grinned at him and added, "And the piggy too. Hehe." The last few lines were purely to annoy him.

"How did you find a place like this in Beijing?" Xie Chong said. "How can Beijing still have places like this?"

Mou Wen said, "There are plenty of places in Beijing you don't know about. Even though you're a Beijing local, to be honest, you have no idea how other people live."

"What were you here for?" Xie Chong asked.

"A fever," Mou Wen said. "A high fever that wouldn't go down. Going to the hospital was such a hassle. Chu Ling—my good friend—brought me here. And who brought Chu Ling? One of her classmates... This is all part of the Beijing drift legacy."

"You get sick too?" Xie Chong said. "You're as sturdy as a little calf."

"My mom says: anyone who eats grains is bound to get sick."

Xie Chong gave an "oh."

He felt a bit better—not because of the medicine, but because he'd carried all those bags walking there and back, which should have digested whatever was stuck in his system. He loaded the things into the car and drove Mou Wen toward Wanliu.

Mou Wen suddenly asked, "Is it okay for me to come to your place?"

"No, it's not. Get out of the car," Xie Chong said with a straight face, then asked, "Why wouldn't it be okay?"

"What if you have friends over?"

"If I have friends, I'll tell you in advance."

"Oh."

Neither of them spoke again. At a red light, Xie Chong glanced at Mou Wen. She was looking out the window, lost in thought. He had never been friends with a girl who liked him before, and he didn't know what the right thing to do was. He felt a deep sense of guilt toward her.

He realized he was being too greedy and too cruel.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Huh?" Mou Wen asked.

"Never mind."

Mou Wen's phone rang again. She picked it up—it was the guy from the morning house viewing. He asked if she liked the apartment. Mou Wen said no, she didn't.

She was talking loud enough that Xie Chong could hear the other person clearly, but he listened with no expression on his face.

The guy asked if it was about the price.

Mou Wen said no, goodbye.

Just as she was about to hang up, he said, "Don't hang up so fast. You don't have to pay—we can share a room, and I'll cover the rent."

Xie Chong suddenly snatched Mou Wen's phone and cursed furiously: "What the fuck are you saying? You piece of shit, just wait—I'll tear your house apart!"

The guy hung up in a hurry. Mou Wen grabbed the phone back and saw that Xie Chong's face was white with anger.

"Who was that? What's going on? What the hell are you doing?" Xie Chong was so angry he felt dizzy, smacking the steering wheel with both hands: "What the hell was that idiot saying? You're living in a perfectly good place—why are you looking for another one? What are you even doing? Tell me right now where that bastard lives!"

Mou Wen was furious too—what was Xie Chong yelling at her for?

She snatched the phone back and called again. When it connected, she said, "If you've got money, go get your cross-eyed ass checked out at a hospital! And get yourself a toilet that actually flushes properly! Or better yet, look in the mirror and see what a piece of trash you are! You're already ugly as sin, but it turns out you're rotten to the core! Call me again and I'll splash your toilet water all over your face, you dumbass!"

She was still huffing and puffing after her rant, and Xie Chong didn't dare say a word. He hadn't expected Mou Wen to get this fierce when angry. He'd never seen her lose her temper before.

Her outburst was well done—now both of them felt lighter and relieved. They caught each other's eye, couldn't hold it in, and burst out laughing.

"What's going on?" Xie Chong asked. "Why are you looking for a new place?"

"Chu Ling—my roommate—is dating someone and moving in with her boyfriend. She said she'd have me come along to rent a small two-bedroom, but I don't want to be a third wheel. So I thought I'd find my own place."

"Where are you looking?"

"On the Shuimu Qinghua community website."

"And then what? Sharing with strangers? Guys too?" Xie Chong didn't get it. Why would she do that? Wasn't it dangerous? How did she know if that guy was a decent person or a creep?

But that's just how it was—when sharing, people usually preferred same-gender roommates, but if the opposite gender turned out to be okay, it wasn't a big deal. She asked him, "Didn't you share apartments when you studied abroad? Did you care about your roommate's gender? You..."

"I didn't share. My family bought a place in London."

Mou Wen went quiet. She realized it was impossible for Xie Chong to fully understand her. He had no clue about these things—he just thought differently than she did.

"I'll go with you," Xie Chong said suddenly.

"What?"

"When you go look at apartments, I'll come with you," Xie Chong said. "Don't go alone. Even two girls going together isn't safe. In a situation like today, if that guy had a couple of big guys hiding in there, even if you were the top warrior of Yakeshi, you'd still be in trouble, understand?"

"The top warrior of Yakeshi?"

Xie Chong realized he'd slipped up, so he changed the subject: "Do you have any more milk tablets? Give me some—I can snack on them in traffic."

"Milk tablets from the top warrior of Yakeshi?"

Mou Wen swung a punch at him, and he flinched back in mock fear. Mou Wen laughed, looking at his side profile. She realized she liked Xie Chong not because of his looks or money, but because of who he was.

Xie Chong was a good person.

The sleazy, dirty qualities those other guys had—Xie Chong had none of them. He was just an upright, generous, and honest good man.

She had to cook him a good meal.

This time, she'd make him a feast of "delicacies from all over the land."

She'd make chicken stewed with mushrooms, scallion-braised yellow croaker, spicy stir-fried octopus, cold jellyfish salad, stir-fried shredded potatoes, smashed cucumber, and a pot of fragrant steamed rice.

When she stood in the kitchen and rattled off the dish names to Xie Chong, he almost clapped for her. He didn't have work that day, so he rolled up his sleeves to help.

As a kid, Xie Chong had helped his grandmas in the kitchen, standing on a small wooden stool to reach the counter. While peeling garlic, he remembered this and suddenly realized it had been years since he'd had days like this.

He'd been living alone since he was ten or so. He had money, so he could eat at any restaurant in Beijing, go home and sleep, and that's how he grew up.

Right now, in his kitchen, Mou Wen was cutting potatoes into shreds. Her knife skills were excellent—the blade fell rapidly on the cutting board, and with rhythmic "thock, thock, thock" sounds, evenly thin potato shreds lined up neatly one after another.

She proudly admired her work: "What knife skills!"

She was completely content.

She muttered to herself, "These potatoes are so good—they'd be perfect rolled in a pancake! Yeah, let's make some pancakes!"

She clapped her hands, making the decision herself, and turned around to see Xie Chong watching her. He must have been watching for a while—Mou Wen just had that feeling, that he'd been looking at her for a long time.

His gaze made her nervous, and she stammered, "Want... want pancakes?"

Xie Chong looked away: "Sure."

"Do you like them?"

"Haven't had them in a long time."

"How long?"

"Twenty years, maybe?" Xie Chong said. "After my grandparents passed, I never had pancakes made at home. I never think to order them when eating out." His voice was low, and he looked sad.

Mou Wen walked over, patted his shoulder, and said, "Oh, I'm sorry..."

Xie Chong turned to look at her.

Mou Wen was like a blazing fire, igniting his cold kitchen and him along with it, cooking him through.

He reached out, ruffled her hair, and smiled, "Warrior."

His hand was gentle. Mou Wen tilted her head like a puppy: "A few more pats, or how about you give me a head massage?"

Xie Chong laughed heartily, grabbed her by the collar, and pulled her a bit further away.

"Don't rent a place," he said.

The kitchen was noisy, and Mou Wen didn't catch it, so she asked loudly, "What?"

"I said, don't rent a place," Xie Chong said.