On My Way - Chapter 16

Chapter 16 - A Girl Shouldn't Drink Outside

That night, when I walked home, my feet felt light, as if I were stepping on clouds.

My grandmother opened the door, and I hugged her tightly, giving her two fierce kisses on the cheek.

She was startled and said, "Xue'er, it’s not proper for a girl to be out drinking!"

"I didn't, I was just—"

I was just incredibly happy, as if my whole body was enveloped in warm spring water, or as if I’d just taken a giant bite of a chocolate-covered marshmallow.

I asked, "Grandma, do you think it would be good if I found a boyfriend?"

The old lady loved this topic. She fired off a barrage of questions: "Who is it? Is he a local? How old is he? What does he do for a living... I’d rather you find someone from the North. You can’t really connect with people from the South!"

I just looked at her and giggled, not answering.

Cheng Xia’s call came in right then. His voice was as soft as rising steam: "Hello? Did you get home?"

What does it feel like when something you’ve longed for, something you’ve lost sleep over but thought you could never have for years, suddenly falls into your arms?

It is shocking.

It is panicky.

You want to scream out loud to wake yourself up from this absurd and shameful dream, yet you also want to shake him hard and demand: What do you mean by this! Tell me!

But in that moment, I couldn't.

I could only continue eating the hotpot with a bright red face, patiently watching a popcorn movie with everyone, and then sending the guests out one by one.

Finally, it was just me and Cheng Xia left in the room. He was standing with his back to me, washing dishes in the kitchen. I walked up behind him, hesitating.

After imagining countless scenes where I would die of embarrassment, I finally chose a relatively mild approach: "Hahaha, Cheng Xia, were you just trying to bail me out earlier?"

...God, how did I manage to make that voice sound so affected!

"What?" Cheng Xia turned around, asking while wiping his hands.

He asked "what"?

How could he still ask "what"?

My courage vanished completely, and I quickly put on a phony, cheerful face: "Oh, nothing, I see you’re busy here, I’ll head off too, I’ve got a full day tomorrow..."

He grabbed my hand.

Warm, dry palms. The subtle friction was magnified infinitely—

"Since I’m going to chase you anyway, isn't it better to let them think that I was the one chasing you all along?"

I stood there, stunned. The warm yellow light made his face look tender and serene, like an exquisite oil painting.

"Don't you dislike me?"

"Six years ago, I did." He said: "Back then, you were... too heavy for me."

It took me a long time to understand what this "too heavy" really meant.

Jinbo City was too small. He had witnessed me countless times wearing gloves to rummage through swill buckets, carrying nylon bags to help my grandmother pick up plastic bottles, and pulling hair with stall owners in the farmers' market over a few cents.

And then, suddenly, one day, this girl came out and confessed to him...

For a young boy’s love, that was too heavy.

In those days, everyone just wanted a romance involving white shirts and bicycles. Swill buckets and the like were far too "heavy" in flavor.

Cheng Xia said softly: "On one hand, I was attracted by your vitality and thought you were incredibly unique. On the other hand, I was instinctively afraid of your world—gloomy, oppressive, realistic... I’m trash, right?"

"No."

It was truly no. In fact, I was very grateful for his honesty.

My white moonlight was meant to be stressing over whether his sneakers were the latest model or if he’d placed in the top three on an exam.

The soul-searching question of "whether poverty makes me feel embarrassed" is something best left to people like me to answer.

"All these years, as I wrote my thesis, defended my dissertation, prepared for my mother’s funeral, and received my first job offer... whether happy or sad, every single moment I thought: if only you were here, how good that would be." He said in a low voice: "But you weren't."

I stared at him, dazed.

"After we reunited, I was going crazy with happiness. I wanted to see you every day. Even though I knew... you didn't like me anymore. You had seen a much larger world, and I was just an ordinary..." He laughed bitterly.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The TV was still on, and the long, trailing end-credits song drifted over:

...But perhaps most people are just like this
Setting out on a journey from which there is no return
Meeting you here feels like destiny
Having a story filled with ups and downs

In that silence, he looked up. His eyes were still clean and beautiful, like jade washed by water.

"But I don't want to be separated from you. I want to try one more time, so..." He said: "Give me a chance to chase you, alright?"

I had many words bubbling up to my lips.

For instance, I wanted to tell him that I still loved him, that for all these years, I had only ever liked him.

I also wanted to say that he was not ordinary at all.

I have passed so many mountains and seas, witnessed countless faces—whether handsome or wise—and touched souls whether base or noble.

Only he remained clean, bright, and glowing.

But I couldn't say any of it. I was shaking too hard. It wasn't until he reached out and carefully pulled me into his arms that I finally managed to answer:

"Okay."

The next day, I went to work with high spirits. Engineer Li was startled by my vigor and asked cautiously: "Manager Ren, has the head office released the funds?"

"It’s nothing." I waved my hand, saying heroically: "But I believe from the bottom of my heart that victory belongs to us!"

My belief was correct.

The on-time payment of wages acted like a powerful stimulant, saving everyone from their despair and anxiety. Segment after segment of the project was completed successfully. As expected, the entire project was about to be finished before the New Year.

The workplace is results-oriented. No matter how good your relationships are, if you don't finish the project, you are a sinner. But once the project succeeds, the people who were cursing you will collectively suffer from amnesia.

The company finally released more funds, and those who used to point fingers and curse at me finally became amicable.

I was very happy. During one overtime session, I treated the team to a late-night snack and bought some expensive alcohol.

On a construction site, everyone likes a drink or two—partly to warm up, and partly because a slight buzz is the perfect way to bond and call each other "brother."

Even though my grandmother always taught me that a good girl shouldn't drink.

But my tolerance had always been: three glasses of baijiu were just enough for me to rinse my mouth; six made my face feel slightly warm, totally negligible; ten was my limit, but I could still march home in a straight line while perfectly sober.

The group of men around me were much worse; one glass was enough to make them lose their dignity as human beings.

Three rounds into the drinking, I received a call from Old Feng, who asked about the project in a vague, indifferent way. After I finally managed to steer the conversation back, he turned back into my strict teacher and kind father.

I played the sycophant for all I was worth, squeezing in lines like: "Although you are heartless and unrighteous as a leader, I don't blame you at all."

Such is the tragedy of a wage-earner.

Just then, an elderly manager swayed as he stood up: "Manager Ren, is that President Feng from the head office? You should report the good news to him, too."

I put down the phone and smiled: "What does this have to do with him? This is our own project."

He was clearly wasted and laughed: "Look at you, you two are in the same boat, why make the distinction between 'mine' and 'yours'?"

I wiped the smile off my face and said: "You've had too much to drink."

Of course, there were bawdy jokes where there were many men, but they were slightly more restrained in front of me. My principle was that if it wasn't about me, I wouldn't stop them, but I wouldn't go along with it or give them a smile, either.

But this time, it was about me.

The man couldn't read the room and kept rambling: "Old Feng was the same ten years ago, he specializes in riding wild horses..."

Tyrannosaurus suddenly stood up and poured a bottle of alcohol over his head.

The old man howled in surprise. Tyrannosaurus threw the bottle, grabbed him by the collar like a chicken, and said coldly: "Are you awake now?"

The man was so scared by Tyrannosaurus’s wolf-like eyes that he nearly wet his pants. He immediately repeated: "Awake! I'm awake! Don't be crazy!"

Tyrannosaurus glanced at me, then threw the man aside and spat on the ground for good measure.

The crowd was silent for a moment before they tacitly resumed their merrymaking.

Just then, Cheng Xia's name lit up on my phone. He asked: "Are you done eating?"

"Yes, come pick me up."

I wiped my mouth in a leisurely manner and stood up to tell everyone: "You all keep drinking slowly. Someone is coming to pick me up, and I’m heading home."

"Whoa! Is it your boyfriend!" others began to tease: "Manager Ren, what does your boyfriend do?" "Is he handsome?"

I smiled and said nothing.

Cheng Xia’s car arrived in no time. He stood downstairs waving at me, handsome and tall.

This man is the boy I’ve loved since I was small.

He was waiting there for me.

"Whoa, Engineer Cheng! He’s a real looker!"

"Manager Ren, you hid this well!"

"This son-in-law is great! I unilaterally approve!"

I walked downstairs amidst the earth-shaking teasing and hooked my arm through Cheng Xia’s.

The remaining workers chattered away, and the few women gossiped about Cheng Xia’s appearance.

I knew that in that moment, I was finally the same as them: an ordinary working girl with her own age-appropriate little boyfriend, rather than a legendary, tragic figure who would do anything to climb the ladder, even becoming an old man's mistress.