By the time I reached the gates, my shirt clung to my back, and my pulse thundered in my ears. But something felt… off. The yard, usually bustling with workers heading to and from their posts, was quieter than usual. Their eyes darted toward me as I approached, then quickly looked away.
"Ha Rou!" I called out, catching him trying to sneak away. He turned his head slightly but didn't respond. When I stepped closer, his posture stiffened, and he shifted his weight uncomfortably. "What's going on?"
For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. Then, without meeting my eyes, he muttered, "You should speak to the supervisor. He's not very happy."
My heart dropped. "Is it because I'm late?" I asked, sweating.
He shook his head, and walked away. My heart dropped. The brief euphoria I felt had disappeared and been replaced by fear.
Whatever this was, it wasn't good. I walked to his office, and found the door was ajar. I knocked lightly before pushing it open.
The supervisor stood by the window, his back to me, arms crossed as he stared out over the yard. When he turned to face me, his expression was cold – colder than I'd ever seen it. He looked almost angry.
"You," he said, his voice flat. "You're not supposed to be here."
I frowned, confusion knotting my thoughts. "I know I'm late, but – "
"It's not about that, Taihan," he interrupted. It was the first time he remembered my name correctly. He stepped closer, his shoulders square. "You don't work here anymore."
"What?" The word came out louder than I intended. "What are you talking about? I've never been late before, it was just a few minutes– "
"This isn't about you being late," he snapped, cutting me off. "It's about what I've been hearing.
"Ami Na's been talking," he said, stepping around the desk. "She says you've been stealing from the factory – fabric, supplies, equipment, whatever you can get your hands on. Selling it off in the market. She saw it with her own eyes."
I glared at him. "That's ridiculous. I've never stolen anything in my life, and you know it."
He didn't laugh. He didn't even flinch. "I don't know anything, Taihan. All I know is that I've got half the workers breathing down my neck, wondering why I'm letting a thief stay on the payroll. I don't have time to babysit your reputation."
"That's it?" I said, my voice rising. "You're just taking her word for it?"
"Taihan, it's not just her. Several other witnesses have already testified as well."
The news shocked me. Who would do such a thing? A desperate sort of indignation filled my veins as I imagined Ami Na telling her merry band of work-friends to testify against me. They probably ate every word out of the palm of her hand.
"I don't know why they're saying that. I promise it's not me." I couldn't afford to be angry, because this job was my only lifeline. Even if it gave meager pay, it was all I had. "I'll work for no pay, I'll work alone. I'll clean the toilets after shifts. I'll hand check the inventory myself."
"Why? So you can steal more supplies?" The boss just scoffed, scorn clear in the furrow of his brows and the sneer of his lips. "You've long been slacking. I kept you out of some misplaced goodwill, some pity for your pathetic life. And this is how you repay my kindness?"
"You can't just-" I sputtered. This all felt like some kind of lucid dream, as if I could wake up if I tried hard enough. "I've been a loyal factory worker. Please, you can't just do this to me!" My voice pitched higher in desperation, and I didn't even have the shame to be embarrassed.
"Watch your tone," He spat, already turning away. "We've already hired your replacement."
Without another word, he turned and left the office. I was left there, alone, watching the doors I once walked into every morning become something foreign with every breath I took. What should I do from now on? Finding a job was becoming more and more difficult, the prices were getting higher, and I already had difficulty paying for all the bills. The factory floor felt colder as I walked through it, the silence following me. No one met my eyes.
The walk back home was the longest and yet shortest time period I've ever been through. The shabby rooms felt miles away, and yet as I contemplated over what to tell Qianqian, I found myself already at the doorstep. I knew this news would trouble her, and in the face of her worrying and nagging, I already dreaded the long conversation that would follow.
I still had the money I won with the gambling, I reasoned to myself, some mild attempt at comfort in the face of an otherwise bleak situation. Maybe that was how I needed to sustain myself in between the time period between finding a new job.
No more gifts for Bella, I suppose.
I turned the corner and passed by the familiar road near the bridge, the one with all the street hustlers and vendors lined up like little tin soldiers. These days, there were even more of them, trying their best to sell meager products to try and scrape by. They were packed against each other, sardines in a can.
The flower seller was a frail old man, his weathered hands moving deftly as he wrapped a bouquet in crinkled paper. The blossoms were sad things, their petals thin and curling at the edges, the leaves spotted with brown. They lay in a wooden cart at the corner of the market, surrounded by the clamor of vendors hawking fresher wares. No one gave them a second glance – except me.
I stood there, shifting uncomfortably under the old man's expectant gaze, clutching the last of my gambling profits in my fist. I could feel the coins sweating in my palm, the metal heavier than it should have been. These weren't the flowers Qianqian deserved. She deserved roses, vibrant and alive, with stems sturdy enough to carry the weight of their beauty. But I couldn't afford roses.
"How much for these?" I asked, pointing to a small bundle of chrysanthemums. They were the best of the worst, pale yellow and drooping but still clinging stubbornly to life.
The old man glanced at the flowers, then at me, as if sizing me up. "Two yuan," he said.
I counted the coins in my hand. Just enough.
He wrapped them quickly, the paper crinkling and tearing at the edges. I handed him the money and took the bouquet, feeling the stems sag slightly under their own weight. As I walked away, I caught sight of a young couple at another stall. The man handed the woman a bouquet of red camellias, her laughter ringing out like a melody in the air.
I tightened my grip on the flowers, the stems prickling my skin. Hopefully, this will be enough. The entire walk home, the flowers pressed against the palm of my hand, and I carried the fear that if I pressed too hard, the very flowers would completely wilt and crumble underneath my very fingertips.
Pushing the door open with a creak, I felt some kind of guilt creep over me, as if I was a disobedient child finally returning home. Surprisingly, the lights were dim, most of them turned off, and the living room was completely empty. It felt lifeless.
It was still morning, and since I had rushed to work with absolutely no breakfast, my stomach grumbled in complaint. I wasn't too worried – hunger was a rather familiar friend. Still, I dragged my footsteps over to the kitchen, wondering if there was any food I could eat. I doubted there was – Qianqian and I had agreed to eat the absolute minimum, to ration what little food we could still afford.
"Taihan." Qianqian's quiet voice called as my hand reached for the cupboards. My hands flinched as if they had been burnt, freezing mid-air.
"Qianqian." I returned, turning slowly to find my wife sitting near the dinner table. Her face was once again unreadable, and she seemed unsurprised to see me. I felt icy fear crawl up my throat, and even though I knew it was impossible to read my mind, I felt incredibly exposed against the pointed look of her dark brown eyes. Memories of last night in the motel flashed through my mind.
"Why are you back so early?" Qianqian asked in no particular manner. She set down her glass of water methodically, tilting her head to gaze directly at me.
"Ah…I just…" I debated lying to her, conjuring up some story about how our boss let us out early. But then, I realized I might as well be digging myself a deeper grave, there was no way I could find a new job in such little time. "I got fired from my job."
Qianqian finally looked surprised, although she showed nothing except for a subtle raise of an eyebrow and a downturn quirk of her mouth. For a second, she sighed, rubbing her temples before choosing to look back at me.
"I see. How much money do we have left?"
In times like these, I was grateful for Qianqian's unobtrusive manner. How she asked no questions, simply accepted my answer, and chose to tackle the question that was on all of our minds.
"A few thousand," I replied after a few seconds had passed. The lie sat heavy on my tongue.
Although we were already low on funds, the budget I gave Qianqian was even lower than it actually was. I don't quite know why I said that, or why I wanted to give myself any cushion.
Bella's face floated in my mind. Her gift, expensive and beautiful. The need to buy her a gift of her own.
I knew I couldn't tell Qianqian any of this.
She goes quiet again, and I fight the desire to fidget in my seat. Qianqian had always been exceptionally perceptual, quick to call out lies and shifty enough that she would purposely dig for more information.
Already jumping to solutions, Qianqian spits out the next steps with surprising candor. "Okay. I'll ask my friends if they know anyone with available job openings. In the meantime, we can take shorter showers, and not go out as much."
"Will do." I agree, simply to fill up the blanket of silence that had befallen us. "I…I got these for you."
I held up the flimsy bouquet of Chrysanthemums from behind my back. A few petals had already fallen onto the ground, and in the dusty yellow lighting of our petroleum lamps, the flowers looked sickly and pale. They were a homely sight.
"For me?" Qianqian asked with genuine surprise. I felt a pang of disgust that my wife should feel so surprised at such a small act of kindness.
"Yes. I saw them, and thought of you. They would look nice at our home." I reply, the words leaden on my tongue.
"Taihan, how could you afford this?" Qianqian tried to sound chiding, but I could tell she was happy. A smile tugged at the edges of her lips, and her eyes crinkled into half-moons, a sight rarely seen.
"My boss still had the grace to give me my last paycheck." I lied, ignoring the thread of hot shame that began to unravel in my stomach. Qianqian could never know about the gambling, I knew she wouldn't approve.
"You should've saved the money." Qianqian replies, ducking her head to hide a pleased grin. She looked far more beautiful than I remembered when she was happy, and I wished our life was different – different to where we wouldn't have to struggle so often, and where she could smile more. "But still, thank you."
"Of course." I murmured, looking away. I couldn't stand the sight of her soft expression, or her doting tone.
A sort of comforting quiet settles over us, different from the cloying silence before. Qianqian steps up gently, walking over to me and reaching for a loaf of bread that was in the corner. That, coupled with some old rice, wilted vegetables, and canned beans were the only food we had left.
We decided the bread would only be for special occasions, so the sight of her grabbing it surprised me. Noticing my surprise, Qianqian grabs the knife and grins at me mischievously.
"To new beginnings. We'll figure something out." She whispered, eyes twinkling. For a second, I am reminded of the girl I had fallen in love with so many years ago, back in high school. The girl who would sneak out of her home to meet me, the girl I would climb atop the school roof with, trying to muffle our giggling as we tried to avoid stepping on the clattering shingles. Alas, years have passed, and those days only remained a bittersweet memory.
She hands me a slice of bread, looking at me expectantly. In the wake of her grinning face, I couldn't say no; I was hungry anyway.
Taking a small bite of the slice, I tried to savor the warmth in my mouth, the taste of something that wasn't stale rice a foreign, yet welcome gift.
"Taihan." Qianqian starts again, and I look over to her. She's still happy, but a little uncertainty passes through her face.
"Yes?" I ask neutrally, wondering what she would say now. The bread is weighty against my hand.
"I had…heard from a few friends that you were spotted at a motel." Qianqian mumbled, sounding unsure of herself for the very first time.
As soon as I heard that, my heart dropped, frozen between the confines of my rib cage. I knew Qianqian had friends nearly everywhere, but I had tried to be as sneaky as possible; yet in the dark, it was difficult to see anyone who could've been potentially scouting for me.
"I…I did go to a motel." I responded immediately, deciding that lying simply was not worth it.
"But there was no other woman. It was only myself. I didn't come home because I didn't want to wake you up…I know how tired you are."
Qianqian nods vaguely throughout my entire explanation, going silent again as she parses my words. I can feel a steady thumping in my chest, hammering jack-rabbit fast. For some delusional second, I wondered if she could hear the pounding against my ribs, or see the sweat gathering on my palms, which I deliberately forced into a relaxed position.
"Mmm." She only gives an indecipherable sound, before tenting her fingers together. "Next time, just come home. I don't want any rumors around."
I made a show of looking apologetic, nodding quickly.
"Of course. Qianqian, you are the only woman for me, you know that, right?" I chose to ask instead, and even if the words were true, they felt stale and empty. I don't know why they twisted and churned, but I prayed that she didn't notice.
"You are the only man for me too, Taihan." Qianqian replies instead, mouth quirking up into a small smile. "It will be nice to have a day for ourselves. Haven't in a while."
That was true, it would be nice to stay at home and relax. I stand up, making my way to Qianqian and wrapping my arms around her shoulders. To my surprise, they were a lot more frail than I last remembered, and I felt a pang of pity.
She was warm, comforting, and familiar underneath my hands, and she looked up, beaming.
"Come, let's go walk around." She suggests, hands reaching up to clasp mine. Our fingers intertwined, much as they had all those years ago.
For a second, we stood there, her in my arms. It was picturesque of the very dream I would've been willing to give everything up for, all those years ago. The former love of my life, the woman of my dreams, here in a home with me and in my arms.
It was such a shame that even then, my mind wandered to a girl with beautiful brown hair that flowed like waterfalls, eyes that twinkled like a doe's with the beautiful green of that jade pendant.