Chapter 13: Motherland! Let Me Shampoo Your Hair!
Jiang Xiaoyuan absentmindedly looked up—before her was a luxurious beauty salon.
This kind of place had a deep connection with Jiang Xiaoyuan. She used to spend money there as generously as a dutiful child: every four days, she would go for a hair nourishment treatment, with a scalp care added after every two hair treatments.
To manage this busy schedule, Jiang Xiaoyuan had designated personnel at her regular salon, who would send her a WeChat reminder a day in advance.
Despite investing countless time and energy, her hair hadn’t improved much. She was essentially paying for a placebo effect.
Because she was naive and wealthy, every time Jiang Xiaoyuan arrived, the salon manager would specially make time to serve her. During holidays and changes in weather, the salon would always send her greetings via WeChat—during Chinese New Year, they would send “Celebrating another year of our bond growing stronger,” and on Mother’s Day, they would send “Thank your mother for bringing you into this world for me,” even on World AIDS Day, they wouldn’t stop, sending her a message saying “Our healthy lives, accompanied by each other, are the happiest”… Their intentions were unclear.
Anyway, no one would ever go out of their way to please her like that again.
Qi Lian greeted her and led her inside, tapping the front desk with his hand, “Where’s Ark?”
The receptionist, familiar with his attitude, didn’t say anything and went to call someone.
“They’re hiring these days. The manager is a classmate of mine from elementary school,” Qi Lian said. “Don’t worry, this place isn’t cheap to patronize. Most of the clients here are wealthy women with leisure time. There aren’t too many messy things happening.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan, as a “former customer,” mechanically moved her eyes at his words.
Her status plummeted from “Old Buddha” to “shampoo girl” like a leap from a building, and she truly experienced what it meant for “things to change and people to change”.
Before Jiang Xiaoyuan could adjust her mental state, a small man in skinny jeans walked out.
This person had two badges on his chest, one reading “Manager” and the other “Technical Director.” He played two roles in one, and he seemed to be a jack of all trades, master of none. He wore a fedora hat, revealing a few tips of his dyed dark brown hair. A pair of glasses frames without lenses perched on his nose bridge. His eyelashes were coated with mascara like two thorns about to pierce the world, wild and unruly as he entered and exited.
As soon as this person appeared, he put on a professional smile and, focusing on Qi Lian’s unadorned head, obsequiously asked, “Hey handsome, want a perm and style? We have a team that just returned from Japan, guaranteed to give you the coolest and most suitable style…”
“He used to be Chen Dalong,” Qi Lian ignored him, pointing to the newcomer as he introduced to Jiang Xiaoyuan, “This idiot had a hole in his head during middle school, got conned into dropping out, and followed someone adoring a ‘Lord Jesus’ who meditated in a lotus position. He even arrogantly gave himself an English name, Noah. His Chinese name is Chen Fangzhou.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”
“Oh,” Qi Lian added nonchalantly, “Don’t believe anything he says. Among the twenty-six letters of the English alphabet, he can only recognize the four in ‘Noah’—and they have to be in order.”
Chen Fangzhou’s warm smile suddenly changed, and like thunder, he swiftly grabbed Qi Lian by the collar, pouncing forward, intending to engage in a scuffle with him. Unfortunately, Boss Chen was inherently disadvantaged, with a height even shorter than Jiang Xiaoyuan’s by half a head, making it inconvenient for him to fight. He bounced around like an ambitious flea, intending to strike a blow against a large dog.
Jiang Xiaoyuan took a few steps back, sensing the boldness of the people from her “hometown.”
This unequal battle ended with Qi Lian grabbing Chen Fangzhou by the back of his neck, throwing him aside. Qi Lian rubbed his wrinkled collar, “Different species don’t like each other.”
As soon as Chen Fangzhou calmed down, he wanted to engage in another 300 rounds of tussle.
Qi Lian conveniently pushed Jiang Xiaoyuan forward, blocking her in front of himself, and said seriously, “I have business to attend to—this is a girl from my hometown, remember? ”
Only then did Chen Fangzhou see Jiang Xiaoyuan, who was about to step outside. His expression changed, the ferocity on his face softened, and he stumbled to display a gentle smile, “Oh, I remember…”
“You remember what?” Qi Lian interrupted him, “The year you joined the cult and ran away, she hadn’t even lost her baby teeth yet.”
Chen Fangzhou: “…”
“She just came here and knows nothing. She just wants to learn some skills from you,” Qi Lian teased Chen Laoban a few times, finally saying something serious, “Take care of her a bit more, don’t let others bully her. If there’s anything wrong, speak up. We’re all family when we’re away from home, don’t take it personally alright?”
The latter half of that was directed at Jiang Xiaoyuan. Jiang Xiaoyuan nodded subconsciously, but upon reflection, she realized something was off. These two sentences sounded like what parents say to teachers when they send their children to school.
Were she and Qi Lian that close?
They had only met twice by chance, and even if there were some distant connections that neither of them remembered from a distant era, why should Qi Lian help her?
Chen Fangzhou readily agreed, smiling at Jiang Xiaoyuan, “Don’t be afraid, little sister. I’ve completely turned over a new leaf now, severed ties with the organization. I even burned the lotus image of Jesus and crushed it to ashes. If you don’t believe me, I still have the ashes.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan was speechless, feeling that Boss Chen was a bit brain-dead, and she, who had been deceived into spending over a hundred thousand yuan at this shop, seemed even more brain-dead.
Qi Lian said, “She doesn’t have a place to stay now. Figure something out for her, I leave it to you.”
Chen Fangzhou nodded vigorously, and Qi Lian walked away with his hands in his pockets. Just as Jiang Xiaoyuan, full of doubts, was about to call him back, he suddenly turned back at the door, meeting Jiang Xiaoyuan’s hesitant gaze.
“When the rivers flow into the sea, they cannot ignore the mud and sand from other tributaries upstream,” Qi Lian said cryptically, “A person’s past is like their birthplace, predetermined and unchangeable. You can only accept it, can’t choose it. Understand?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan’s pupils contracted sharply—He knew! About parallel timelines, about the lighthouse, he must know!
Right, when she first saw Qi Lian in the hospital, he inexplicably asked, “Is this your phone?” If it was just about her old and battered phone, wouldn’t a normal person say, “You still use this kind of phone”?
Jiang Xiaoyuan hurriedly took a step forward to ask for clarification, but Qi Lian suddenly put a finger to his mouth and made a “shh” gesture.
With his back to the setting sun, he waved his hand and gave a half-hearted smile. “The weather is getting colder soon. This weekend, there will be a small gathering for fellow villagers who live nearby. We’ve all been working hard for half a year, so let’s have a hot pot together. Don’t forget to come, and also give your family a call to let them know you’re safe.”
After that, he left without waiting for Jiang Xiaoyuan’s response.
Jiang Xiaoyuan stood there in a daze for a while. She had been very worried that others would discover her secret, but when she finally confirmed that Qi Lian already knew, after a wave of panic, she actually felt a little relieved. She was not someone who could keep secrets, and Qi Lian’s presence made her feel less alone.
Jiang Xiaoyuan took a few deep breaths. After experiencing the horrific “Internet Cafe Survival”, she easily accepted her identity as a shampoo girl. Without waiting for Chen Fangzhou’s instructions, she picked up a broom and stood quietly like a plant all day. Whenever she saw a customer with a lot of hair debris on their feet, she would go over and sweep it up for them.
Anyway, no matter what, she finally had a job to support herself.
Jiang Xiaoyuan wiped away the tears stung by the volatile dye and pleasantly discovered that there was a beverage and popcorn machine in the salon. There’s truth in comparison. Compared to the dingy internet cafe, this place was like heaven.
“You can’t get in without taking the back door.” Jiang Xiaoyuan joked amidst her hardships.
She realized that she had completely accepted the reality that she could never go back. She couldn’t even swallow the regret pills, so she had to make the best of it. She would not dwell on her past life, which was like a dream.
Jiang Xiaoyuan didn’t quite believe that she had persevered to this point and could live in this new reality. She always thought it was the strength and courage of the lighthouse assistant that was at work. Whenever she thought about how she still had such a “golden finger” to support her, she would feel a little more confident.
After all, she was someone who made it to the national team through playing a ball sport, not someone to be taken lightly.
So, Jiang Xiaoyuan settled into the beauty salon. Chen Fangzhou was indeed loyal. The salon closed for a day every Monday afternoon, and during this brief break, Boss Chen personally instructed Jiang Xiaoyuan on how to shampoo hair.
“When you approach, you can’t just stay silent and start rinsing directly,” Chen Fangzhou said. “You have to ask the customer about the water temperature. You must remember to say two sentences at the beginning, one is ‘How’s the water temperature?’ and the other is ‘Do you like it with more pressure or less pressure?’ Got it?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan nodded.
Chen Fangzhou then pointed to another shampoo girl acting as a model on the shampoo table and said, “Come and tell her again.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”
The model burst into laughter on the spot, and Jiang Xiaoyuan stood frozen in place with the showerhead in her hand, feeling more embarrassed than when she recited poetry with her blushing cheeks exposed in public.
“Don’t be shy,” Chen Fangzhou gestured emphatically, “Do you want to do business? Do you want to make money? Yes? Then you can’t be shy. You have to say ‘Oh, spray’ a little…”
“Do you understand what ‘spray’ means?” Jiang Xiaoyuan almost made him spray his face, so she had to awkwardly whisper, “How’s the water temperature…”
“No, no,” Chen Fangzhou corrected, gesticulating vigorously. “You can’t be so perfunctory. You must remember that you are serving living people, not preparing the deceased for a final makeover. You have to be passionate and make the customer feel your passion.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”
Chen Fangzhou: “Did you participate in story-themed class meetings when you were young? Like stories about the Long March, revolutionary stories—remember how the host said it? Usually it’s ‘Ah, motherland,’ right? You have to grasp that momentum. Let me demonstrate it for you.”
He said, straightening his chest, raising his entire body by two centimeters, striking a pose like a president giving a speech, and began with a tone of ups and downs, “Ah, motherland! Let me shampoo your hair! Ah, motherland! How’s the water temperature for you? Ah, motherland! Do you like it with more pressure or less pressure?”
The model couldn’t help laughing, knocking her head against the enameled wall of the shampoo basin.
“What are you laughing at?” Chen Fangzhou slapped the back of the model’s head, then turned to educate Jiang Xiaoyuan, “I’m letting you experience this kind of emotion/color. You have to use the love for the motherland to love the customers.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan felt that she could never love the motherland properly again.
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