Xu Qi did not answer his mother’s question. He walked back to the study, staring at the familiar figure on the screen. He watched as the other person put on shoe covers, methodically took out cleaning tools, put on gloves, and walked into the kitchen.
He watched Jiang Yu take out a rag embedded with steel wire and carefully scrub the grime beside the stove, and he suddenly recalled the figure by the classroom windowsill more than ten years ago.
The wind in his chest roared louder.
He took out his phone, opened the app, and scheduled housekeeping service for tomorrow afternoon.
Two consecutive days of cleaning—he wondered if the person coming would find it strange.
There were still more than ten hours until the next afternoon, and he was already feeling uneasy.
Xu Zhiya’s urging interrupted his emotions: “Hurry and come eat! The dishes I just reheated are going to get cold again!”
When Xu Qi walked into the dining room, Xu Zhiya was putting plates into the microwave one by one to heat them up, mumbling, “The fridge is like an ice cave; why buy all this stuff? Lately, you’ve been eating takeout every day ba? Haven’t you seen the news? It’s all synthetic meat and gutter oil.”
He took the plates and placed them on the table, only saying, “No time.”
“How long does it take to cook some noodles?” Xu Zhiya pointed at the plates and said, “If you were willing to eat something healthy, would I have to come over every day?”
It started, Xu Qi started counting down in his heart. Within three sentences, they would inevitably start arguing.
Xu Zhiya handed him the chopsticks, leaned back in the chair, and seemed to have little appetite. “I didn’t cook rice,” she said, pushing a plate of pumpkin toward him. “Eat this, it’s good for your stomach.”
Xu Qi didn’t touch the pumpkin. He was past the age of being forced by parents to eat vegetables.
“The doctor said this is suitable for people with stomach ulcers,” Xu Zhiya said. “I saw the medicine on your bedside table hasn’t decreased—did you forget again?”
Xu Qi paused mid-action while picking up food. “You went through my bedroom again?”
“How else would I know if you’re taking your medicine? I sent you messages and you didn’t reply!”
“I was in a meeting!” Xu Qi put down his chopsticks, a dull ache beginning in his stomach. “Stop watching me all day. Find something to do.”
“What else can I do? The store has already been sold.”
“Sign up for a class—learn a musical instrument, painting, pottery—anything.”
“At my age, going back to school would be exhausting,” Xu Zhiya crossed her arms. “Besides, where would I get the money for classes?”
Xu Qi took a deep breath. “What about the money from selling the store?”
“Isn’t it tied up in the house?”
“You bought that apartment?!” Xu Qi wiped his face. “Didn’t I tell you already? That developer is a scammer!”
“It looked fine at the time!” Xu Zhiya glared at him. “Why are you pulling that angry face? It’s my money I lost, not yours! Besides, I bought it to invest, to save some startup funds for you.”
“I said I don’t need your money!” Xu Qi felt his temples throb with pain. After thinking for a moment, he sighed, took out his phone, and said, “I’ll transfer you twenty thousand. Go on a trip.”
“What are you doing?” Xu Zhiya frowned, looking offended. “Did I come here to ask you for money?”
Xu Qi would have preferred if that had been the case.
“Alright, alright,” Xu Zhiya sighed. “It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve disliked me.”
“When did I ever…” Xu Qi cut himself off. There was no point in continuing this conversation. He opened his phone and transferred the money anyway, then noticed a calendar reminder pop up.
“Don’t come tomorrow night,” he said.
“What’s wrong?” Xu Zhiya looked at him, “Am I that bothersome?”
He stared at his mother for a long time, wanting to make sure whether she had really forgotten. Time had passed, but those beautiful eyes were as they had always been, showing no trace of longing for the past.
“The day after tomorrow is Dad’s death anniversary,” he said. “I need to go back to our hometown.”
As expected, his mother instantly fell silent.
“Are you going?” he asked. “It’s been so many years. You should go at least once.”
Xu Zhiya glared at him, suddenly stood up, grabbed her bag, and left. The sound of the door’s password lock clicked crisply after a heavy slam.
The pumpkin was still steaming. He sat at the dining table, glanced at the food on the plate, and picked up a piece to eat.
It always ended the same way. He finished the food, washed the plates, and placed them on the stainless steel rack above the sink to dry. For a moment, the only sound in the house was the drip of water.
He walked into the bedroom, opened the bedside table, and wanted to take out the medicine bottle, but found that the bottle was gone, replaced by a brown medicine box. When he opened it, there were seven small capsules inside, each capsule was divided into three compartments, marked with morning, noon and evening, and the corresponding pills were in the compartments.
He stared at the pill organizer for a while, unclasped it, took out the pills, and swallowed them. Then he walked to the door and changed the password.
After entering the final digit of the code, exhaustion suddenly surged over him, as if his body had only just realized the extent of its overuse. He walked back to the bedroom and lay down. Before falling asleep, the image of sunlight pouring in as the door of the activity room was opened flashed in his mind.
Perhaps because he had been reminiscing about the past, his sleep that night was lighter than usual. By dawn, his thoughts were still wandering through the corridors of his old school. His brain hadn’t fully rested, but he felt unusually alert
In the afternoon, he would meet Jiang Yu.
As time ticked closer, the unease in his subconscious grew stronger and stronger. When the knock on the door finally came, he almost felt every nerve ending in his body tremble.
He opened the door.
More than a decade had passed. Jiang Yu was no longer the silly, scrawny middle schooler he once was. He had grown taller, and his facial features had become more distinct.
For some reason, he felt that this was exactly how Jiang Yu would grow up to be, as if the present Jiang Yu had been meticulously sketched by time to match his imagination.
He looked at the person standing outside the door, he didn’t even realize his heartbeat had quickened. “Long time no see.”
Jiang Yu was carrying a canvas bag that looked heavy, the straps digging two grooves into his shoulders. He stared at his employer, blankly, for a long moment, without any response.
Xu Qi’s heart sank.
He had imagined Jiang Yu’s reaction countless times. The other person might be overjoyed at their reunion after so many years or might still hold a grudge for his indifference back then. The latter seemed unlikely, as Jiang Yu had always managed to stay optimistic, though he never understood why.
But he never expected that Jiang Yu would actually forget him.
He waited for a long time, but never saw the same smile as the one he saw outside the activity room that year.
Xu Qi was struck by immense disappointment, and for a moment, he felt frozen all over. After a long time, he finally regained some consciousness. He comforted himself, thinking it might just be because his appearances had changed over the past decade. He reminded Jiang Yu: “We both attended Xingcheng Secondary School.”
The large black pupils looked confused for a moment, then suddenly brightened.
“You…” His eyelashes trembled, reflecting his excitement. “You’re Qu… Qu…”
“That was my old name,” Xu Qi said. “My name is Xu Qi now.”
Jiang Yu mouthed his new name, then broke into a brilliant smile, revealing his little canine teeth.
That’s it, Xu Qi thought. He had endured thousands of sleepless nights, crossed half the country, and expanded his business to Beijing—all for this smile.
He grabbed Jiang Yu’s hand and pulled him inside, bag and all, closing the door behind them. He leaned in closer, studying the other carefully.
Jiang Yu, just like before, obediently let him hold his hand, staring at his face as if he was appreciating a work of art.
“You’re a bit different from before,” Jiang Yu observed him for a while then added, “Better looking!” After a moment’s thought, he asked, “You changed your name, how do you write it now?”
He opened Jiang Yu’s hand and traced his name on it with his finger. After finishing, he noticed Jiang Yu wasn’t looking at his hand at all, his gaze still glued to Xu Qi’s face. He chuckled, took out his wallet, and pulled out a business card.
“Xu Qi,” he said, pointing at the name on the card.
Only then did Jiang Yu follow his finger, staring at the characters for a while before nodding. Although he couldn’t remember how the previous name was written, he was sure it was different from this one.
“This one’s much simpler,” Jiang Yu said.
“Can you write it?”
Jiang Yu thought that with some practice, he probably should be able to write it. But then he caught sight of his bag and with a startled look he remembered why he came here.
“No more talking,” he said, opening his messenger bag and pulling out his cleaning tools. “I’m going to start working.”
Xu Qi stopped him and said, “Take a rest for the afternoon.”
“No way,” Jiang Yu replied. “I can’t slack off just because we’re acquaintances. The manual says to show good professional conduct.” As he spoke, he picked up a cleaning cloth. “Where’s the most dust?”
Xu Qi sighed and reached out to grab Jiang Yu’s arm: “You cleaned yesterday. How could there be any dust?”
Jiang Yu glanced at the spotless floor. Indeed, there wasn’t much room for improvement.
Xu Qi released his hand, leaned against the edge of the dining table, and pulled out a chair next to him: “Let’s chat for a bit.”
He gestured to the other party to sit down. Jiang Yu looked at him, a bit confused. Chatting wasn’t his strong suit. Why did he have to chat for three hours?
Still, Jiang Yu sat down. Xu Qi didn’t make any further moves, but his gaze simply followed Jiang Yu. “How have these years been for you?”
Jiang Yu nodded. He attended a special school until he was eighteen, then spent the following years at home doing odd jobs, usually helping friends and family with cleaning. At first, he just helped out, but later realized he could turn it into a livelihood, so he joined a housekeeping company.
“I live with my two brothers,” Jiang Yu said. “Every month when I get my salary, they help me save it.”
The five social insurances and one housing fund were far too complicated, so complicated that even a world-renowned mathematician would have to hang up a whiteboard and explain it in the tone used for Fermat’s Last Theorem. Only then did Jiang Yu barely understand why the company deducted so much money from his paycheck each month.
Xu Qi still remembered the two men from the parking lot. He breathed a sigh of relief—it seemed Jiang Yu had been doing well these past ten-plus years.
“What about you?” Jiang Yu asked.
Xu Qi thought back. After the accident, he and his mother went south overnight—more accurately, they escaped—to Shenzhen, and his mother even changed his name. After graduating from university, he and his classmates founded a tech company that primarily focused on designing LED driver chips, developing semiconductor modules, and creating IoT applications. The company was still in its early stages, and he had to handle marketing strategies, project financing, and external relations all by himself.
Jiang Yu didn’t really understand most of it, but having lived with two university professors for so long, he had learned to nod and respond appropriately at the right moments.
“How is Auntie?” Jiang Yu asked again.
“You still remember my mother?”
Jiang Yu nodded. “Auntie is so beautiful,” he said. “You look a lot like her.”
Xu Qi had heard this countless times from childhood to adulthood, and each time, it annoyed him. But since it was Jiang Yu who said it, he temporarily held back his rebuttal and answered the question instead.
After arriving in Shenzhen, Xu Zhiya found a job at a high-end evening gown boutique and continued to pursue elderly, wealthy suitors. This time, she succeeded. A Hong Kong businessman in his sixties took an interest in her, bought the store for her, provided her with funds, and helped her go from a small shop owner on a street corner to the regional distributor for an international brand.
However, the other party still did not marry her.
They talked for three hours, with Xu Qi doing most of the talking. He asked Jiang Yu many questions about his work.
“This building has many clients from your company,” Xu Qi said. “I heard about it from other owners. Have you cleaned other apartments in this building?”
Jiang Yu thought carefully for a moment. “I think I’ve been to the upper floors.”
“Do each of you have a fixed area you’re responsible for?”
“No,” Jiang Yu replied. “We work on a rotating schedule. Whoever is scheduled goes.”
“So, meeting you today was just a coincidence?” Xu Qi asked. “Even if I booked every day, I wouldn’t necessarily run into you?”
Jiang Yu frowned: “Why would you need to make an appointment every day? The supervisor would think I didn’t clean properly.”
“Where is your company?”
Jiang Yu widened his eyes, becoming cautious. “Are you going to complain about me?”
“I’m not…”
“Complaints will deduct a lot of money,” Jiang Yu said somewhat aggrieved, “why would you want to complain about me?”
“I don’t want to complain about you,” Xu Qi said. “I just want to know where I can see you.”
He didn’t want to make it so obvious, but it was hard to beat around the bush when talking to Jiang Yu. He was considering whether to directly say, ‘I want to take you to and from work’, when Jiang Yu said: “We take orders from home.”
Xu Qi fell silent for a moment and said, “I see.”
They talked for a little longer, and by the time Xu Qi had learned about every member of Jiang Yu’s family, the booking time was nearly over.
Jiang Yu realized that after finishing the work talk, he stood up and put the cleaning tools back in their original place, feeling a sense of unease about receiving rewards without doing any work.
“Let me take you home.” Xu Qi picked up the car keys.
“No need,” Jiang Yu said. “It’s convenient for me to take the subway.”
Jiang Yu never had a sense of suspicion; Xu Qi knew he was just trying to avoid inconveniencing others.
“It’s fine,” Xu Qi said. “I just happened to be out for something, it’s on the way.”
Jiang Yu blinked: “Really?”
“Really,” Xu Qi said. “Do you still live in Wudaokou?”
In fact, if he had thought about it for a moment, it would have been clear that saying ‘on the way’ without knowing the address was suspicious. But Jiang Yu honestly said: “Yes.”
“I’m going to Xiyuan.”
Jiang Yu responded but still didn’t move. Xu Qi stood at the door, giving him a questioning look.
“Why do you want to see me?” Jiang Yu asked.
Xu Qi sighed. He only now remembered the echo of the heavy hammer hitting the ground a quarter of an hour ago.
“And you?” Xu Qi asked. “Why did you come to Xingcheng Secondary School?”
Jiang Yu looked at him, but didn’t answer. Maybe he didn’t know the answer, or maybe there was no answer at all.
So Xu Qi walked over, reaching out to touch the side of Jiang Yu’s neck, where a thin chain rested.
He gently pulled, and a pendant popped out from the collar, making a crisp jingling sound.
“I’ll ask a different question,” Xu Qi said, staring at him. “Why do you always wear this pendant?”
More than a decade has passed, and the pendant’s base had worn down, looking dull and lifeless—a mark of long-term wear.
“You’ve been wearing it, and it took you this long to recognize me?”
Jiang Yu seemed unaccustomed to his prolonged gaze, his face flushing slightly. “I have a bad memory,” he said softly. “You didn’t even leave me a photo.”
Xu Qi looked at him, the sound of the wind in his chest stopped, and the beat of his heart began to grow louder, bit by bit.
He placed the pendant back into the collar, where it had already absorbed his body temperature.
“Let’s go,” he said. “I’ll take you home.”
