Chapter 4: A Cursed Weekend

I got back to my old place almost two o'clock. After paying the taxi fare, I walked toward the building, not exactly in a hurry—it was the weekend, a little late didn't matter. But my head ached at the 4016 yuan I owed her; I couldn't scrape up that much money even if I sold myself right then.

I froze at the entrance to the building, then my chest burned with rage. My luggage was dumped in the hallway, and the bags that wouldn't fit were soaked by the rain—including a pair of black leather shoes Jian Wei had given me years ago.

I threw my umbrella aside, fished the key out of my pocket, and thundered upstairs.

I twisted the key in the lock, kicked the door open, and stood in the living room yelling furiously: "You bitch! Get the hell out here!"

I shouted three times, but no one answered. I kicked open the door to her room—empty.

Staring at the spotlessly clean room, thinking of my rain-soaked luggage outside, the fire in my chest blazed hotter. I grabbed her quilt and threw it on the floor, still furious, so I flipped the mattress too, sending pillows and blankets scattering everywhere.

...

After my outburst, I stood in Mi Cai's room and lit a cigarette, trying to calm my rage.

Mi Cai was standing at the door before I knew it, holding a mop and a plastic bag stuffed with daily necessities—she must have been to the supermarket.

She glared at me. I grabbed the front of her clothes, yanking her into the room with such force she dropped the bag and mop, their contents spilling across the floor. The spotless room descended into chaos in an instant, all from my anger.

I dragged her to the window, threw it open, and made her look at my luggage in the rain, yelling: "Are you out of your mind?! Why the hell did you throw my stuff out in the rain?!"

Mi Cai wrenched free, her voice cold: "You were an hour late. I had someone help move you out. Is there a problem?"

"I got held up by something! What's wrong with being a little late?!"

"A promise is a promise." Mi Cai refused to back down, her eyes blazing with resolve.

"You're impossible!" My anger flared even more, and I raised my hand as if to slap her.

I'd expected her to flinch, to close her eyes, but she just stared back at me, cold and unblinking.

I lowered my hand, narrowing my eyes at her: "Move my stuff back up here, exactly as it was. And I'll pretend this never happened."

"I'm not going to." Mi Cai's beautiful eyes glistened with unshed tears, but her voice was firm.

I nodded: "You won't, huh?…"

Before the words died on my lips, I grabbed the quilt and blankets from the floor and threw them out the window in a blind rage, savoring the twisted pleasure of revenge.

In the wind and rain, the falling quilt and blankets looked so fragile, so innocent—like old, deep scars being torn open mercilessly. I stared, dumbfounded, a flicker of regret washing over me. I shouldn't have been so impulsive, shouldn't have lashed out at this stubborn woman. Maybe it was the black shoes in the rain that had pushed me over the edge; my chest ached, and in the blurry image of raindrops hitting the leather, I saw the dead love between Jian Wei and me.

...

The quilt and blankets finally thudded to the ground, tossed about by the wind. I felt a twinge of guilt and said to Mi Cai: "Now we're even!"

Tears spilled down Mi Cai's pale cheeks as she bit her lip and stared at me.

Looking at the wreckage of the room, guilt flooded my chest—but I still glared at her and said: "I know you hate me, you look down on me. Yeah, I'm poor, I'm a loser. But that's no excuse for you to disrespect me and my things. You're a woman, so I'll play the gentleman today—I only threw your quilt and blankets out. Next time, I'll throw you out with them!"

I pulled the bank card she'd given me the day before out of my wallet, slammed it on the table, and said: "I took a total of 4016 yuan from this card. I don't have the money to pay you back now, but I'll find a way to pay you back as soon as I can."

Tears pooled in Mi Cai's eyes: "Bastard! All of you are bastards who break their promises…"

I stared at her in surprise, my heart a jumble of emotions. After a long moment, I said: "I'm leaving. I'll pay you back, I promise. I'm late on my word, but I'm not the promise-breaker you think I am."

Mi Cai didn't reply, still staring at me with hatred in her eyes.

...

I left. I didn't know if Mi Cai was still crying, but I knew staying in that wrecked room must have been unbearable for her.

But as she'd called me, I really was scum—a monster, as Le Yao had said. A monster who couldn't control his temper, a scum who acted on his every impulse.

I hailed a taxi and hauled my luggage to a rain-sheltered pavilion by the road, with no idea where to go next. I didn't have enough money left to rent an apartment, and a motel was no long-term solution. The only person I'd ever ask for money—Fang Yuan—was still mad at me for ignoring his advice yesterday and had refused to talk to me for the time being.

It was true; all these years, I'd only ever borrowed money from Fang Yuan. I saw him as my best friend, never afraid to show him my mess, my failures. I'd never do that with anyone else.

It felt like the whole world had abandoned me.

...

I lit a cigarette, sat on a stone bench in the pavilion, and stared at the passing cars, lost in thought.

This wasn't how my life was supposed to be. But for the past two years, I'd lived in this city as lonely and helpless as the silent skyscrapers around me. It was all because of her—Jian Wei. I knew I'd never hold her hand again, yet I still couldn't break free, still couldn't let go of her warmth.

The wind cut through me, cold and sharp. I rummaged in a woven bag and pulled out a scarf, wrapping it around my neck, finally blocking the endless cold that had been seeping into my chest.

For the next hour, I sat in the pavilion, alternating between staring into space and smoking, trivial acts that filled the empty time. As the sky dimmed, a desperate longing for salvation washed over me.

A sudden ringtone jolted me out of my daze. I wiped my face and pulled out my phone—it was Ban Die.

Ban Die was my dad. A stiff, uncommunicative man, he'd worked in the procurement department of a mid-sized state-owned enterprise for 15 years. He'd become deputy section chief in his first year, and 15 years later, miraculously, he'd never gotten rid of the "deputy" in his title. That wasn't even the worst of it: the procurement department was a place where everyone took kickbacks and gifts, yet he'd never accepted a single cent or a single present in 15 years. His unshakable integrity had earned him the nickname "Ban Ke" (Section Chief Ban) among his colleagues, finally ditching the "deputy." So when I was 17, I'd kept up with the times and started calling him Ban Die—he still thought I was calling him "My Dad," in the local dialect.

I answered the phone, and his stiff, emotionless voice came through: "Zhao Yang, I'm almost in Suzhou. I have an exhibition tomorrow morning, so I'll crash at your place tonight."

My heart sank. This weekend was truly cursed—everything I feared was happening. I'd rather die than let Ban Die know I was broke and homeless! He was stiff, but he had a temper.

My mind raced: "Ban Die, can you just get a motel near the station? I'm out with colleagues for dinner tonight, it'll be late."

"Enjoy your dinner. You keep your key under the door frame, right? I can let myself in."

"There are a lot of thieves lately. I didn't leave it there."

Ban Die refused to let it go: "Then I'll wait for you. Don't fool around after dinner, come back early."

"Ban Die, you've been on the train for hours, you must be exhausted. Just get a motel nearby! You hate taking taxis to my place, and it's rush hour now—your old bones can't handle the crowded bus!"

I made every excuse, but Ban Die was unhurried. He finally said: "Your mom knitted you a sweater. I brought it for you."

...

I stared at the phone as the dial tone beeped, dumbfounded. It hit me a second later, and I slung the woven bag over my shoulder, grabbed my suitcase, and ran to the road, scanning for a taxi. I had to go back to that apartment—now Mi Cai's apartment—and stay the night there.

Whether she liked it or not, I had no choice. If Ban Die found out how I was living, it would kill him.

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