Chapter 7: After She Left, the Scoundrel Panicked

While lost in thought, he suddenly locked eyes with the woman cooking. Shen Jinxiao felt his heart skip a beat, followed by the sensation of a small black rabbit bounding into his chest, thumping wildly.

Shen Jinxiao cleared his throat and looked away. He touched the mask he was still wearing, let out a sigh of relief, and found a seat with his two guards.

Lin Shuang had been following behind him, and she had taken in his every strange reaction. She wiped the wooden bench over and over with a small handkerchief, looking disgusted, while testing the waters: "Brother Shen, why are you so insistent on eating lunch here? If we had left earlier, we could have made it to the state-run restaurant in town. Look how dirty it is here! And the sun is so scorching."

Shen Jinxiao did not answer. He simply removed his mask, revealing his well-defined, handsome face. He glanced at Meng Shuyue, who was still wiping sweat as she cooked, a faint smile playing on his lips that he didn't even notice himself.

Under the grass shed, the village chief handed a string of cured meat to Meng Shuyue, his wrinkled face full of smiles. "Comrade Meng, stir-fry this cured meat. Commander Shen doesn't eat spicy food, so make sure you don't add any chili peppers!"

"Also..." The village chief pulled two eggs from his pocket and whispered in her ear, "Make it delicious. If you get Commander Shen in a good mood, these two eggs are yours to make into steamed egg custard. Doesn't your Doctor Song love that?"

Looking at the two eggs in the village chief's hands, Meng Shuyue felt a tightness in her chest, as if it were stuffed with cotton. She figured the village chief had just returned from a meeting in town and had no idea that Song Shijing and Su Yanyan had been caught in the act.

In the past, to help build up Song Shijing’s health, she had gone to the village chief's house every few days to do chores for his disabled wife, all just to snag a few eggs to satisfy Song Shijing’s cravings. Everyone in the village knew she loved him to death, but in the end, it had all been a one-sided devotion.

Meng Shuyue took the eggs and nodded with a smile. "Don't worry, I'll make this meal fragrant enough to reach every corner of the village!" As she spoke, she cracked the eggs into a bowl and began to whisk them.

The sun beat down, and the air under the shed was thick with smoke and searing heat. She finished stir-frying the glistening cured meat with vibrant green garlic leaves and plated it.

Shen Jinxiao was distractedly discussing the return trip with his guards. When he caught sight of the woman approaching with the dishes, he stood up, intending to meet her, but Song Shijing suddenly darted out from somewhere and blocked her path.

Song Shijing eyed the fragrant cured meat in her hands, swallowing hard. He hadn't had meat in a month since coming to the countryside; he could barely remember what it tasted like. "Is this for me? Steam me some egg custard, too; I need it for my rice!"

Song Shijing grabbed a bowl of white rice and reached for the cured meat with his chopsticks. Before he could touch it, his hand was struck hard, and the chopsticks fell to the ground. His right hand instantly turned red and swollen.

"What are you doing, Meng Shuyue? I didn't blame you for bringing the reporter earlier, and now you’re pushing your luck?"

Song Shijing glared at her, completely unaware that his uncle was watching them intently from not far away. Seeing Meng Shuyue staring at him with a blank expression, he grew even more agitated. "Are you angry because Yanyan wanted to send you to Zhou Dajun? I asked her just now; she never said such a thing. Besides, look at Yanyan—she’s fair-skinned and beautiful. Why would Zhou Dajun ever fancy you? It’s all just his nonsense!"

He grabbed a spoon and opened the small pot on the stove. Seeing it was empty save for water, he grew angrier. "Where is my steamed egg? You can't even cook a simple meal! How are you fit to enter the Song family at this rate?"

Without waiting for Meng Shuyue to speak, Song Shijing smashed his bowl of rice onto the stove and stormed off. The bowl shattered into two, the rice sticking to the grimy surface—just like her heart, filled with years of love, which now cracked with a sharp snap, its sincerity trampled and ground into the dirt.

The fire under the stove crackled on. Meng Shuyue brought the green-garnished cured meat and the enticing tomato-and-egg stir-fry to Shen Jinxiao. Without even glancing at him, she turned and walked away, her gaze dim.

Song Shijing thought she was just a village girl trying to leverage a favor for a better life. But he didn't know that she had no interest in the Song family at all.

After tonight, she would draw a clear line between herself and this man. He could be his Western doctor and marry his sweetheart, while she would practice her traditional Chinese medicine. She would follow her mother's advice, find a good husband who would support her career, and they would never cross paths again.

The afternoon sun split the logging yard into distinct patches of light and shadow. Shen Jinxiao stood in the shade, watching the woman bathed in sunlight, walking straight and determined.

***

In the logging yard office, Meng Shuyue counted the thirty-five yuan the manager had given her several times before breaking into a wide, bright smile. The manager had also witnessed Song Shijing’s absurd behavior behind the clinic that morning; sympathizing with the girl, he had given her an extra five yuan.

"Girl, though we hate to see you go—your cooking is better than anything at the state-run restaurant—we support you. A man like Dr. Song is better left behind sooner rather than later. Your job has been taken anyway, so there's no need to stay here. Going home to take care of your parents is what really matters!"

The old man’s words were earnest, and Meng Shuyue took them to heart. She wrapped the money in her handkerchief, pondered what local specialties to buy for her parents, bowed respectfully to the manager, and then hurried back to the dormitory with a light step.

She picked up the small bundle she had placed by her bed and took a wooden box from the drawer. Inside was the only gift Song Shijing had ever given her—a plastic butterfly hairclip.

She didn't want it anymore.

She looked around the empty room, where she had spent over a year enduring countless lonely nights, and smiled with a sense of relief.

The door slammed shut, as if sealing away the miserable fate of her past life, letting it vanish into thin air. From this day forward, Meng Shuyue would live only for herself!

***

Song Shijing stayed at the clinic until nightfall as usual. When he returned to the dormitory and saw the same mess on the floor as in the morning, he frowned, his irritability growing.

His stomach was growling with hunger, and his body felt weak and limp. He had only eaten the breakfast he made himself; he hadn't had a bite for lunch or dinner. Usually, Meng Shuyue would have delivered his meals to the clinic right on time.

But today at noon, he had lowered himself to go to the logging yard to explain things to her, yet not only did she deny him meat, she wouldn't even give him an egg.

Back at the clinic, he had waited for her to bring his lunch, but neither lunch nor dinner arrived. He figured that by this time, she would normally be at the dormitory cleaning up, so he locked the clinic and rushed to the dorm.

He never expected that she hadn't come all day to clean up the ceramic shards. He knew that, normally, Meng Shuyue was most anxious about him getting hurt by such fragments. She would be frantic over even the smallest scratch.

But where was she today?

For some reason, he froze in place, feeling a tightness in his chest that made it hard to breathe. He felt restless and agitated. He stepped over the shards, curled up on the wooden bed, and drifted into a deep sleep without realizing it.

That night, for the first time in his life, he had a very, very long dream.