After Breaking the Ice-Beauty's Heart - Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Her Heart Rained All Night.

On her way to her part-time job at the bubble tea shop after delivering lunch to the hospital, Zhou Nianzhi touched the canker sore in her mouth with her tongue.

Ouch—

It stung.

How was it that it still hadn’t gone away after two days?

Zhou Nianzhi pursed her lips. While she felt sorry for herself, she also found it funny. Other people drowned their sorrows in alcohol, but she drowned hers in lychees.

The worst part was that she got “heat” from them, and now she couldn’t even eat properly. It was a real torment.

But she couldn’t rest. She still had to leave early and come back late, taking on different jobs and pushing her time to the limit.

Speaking of which, she had to thank Sister Liu for these jobs. After hearing that she was on the verge of getting heatstroke from handing out flyers and couldn’t find a better spot for her stall, Sister Liu found her a new part-time job at a bubble tea shop.

After confirming that Sister Liu wasn’t a scammer, Zhou Nianzhi reflected that there were still good people in the world.

I’m here.

Zhou Nianzhi stopped, looked at the bubble tea shop, mentally cheered herself on, and walked inside.

“Hi—” Zhou Nianzhi mustered her courage to wave and greet the other employees who were chatting.

No one responded.

They just glanced at Zhou Nianzhi and quickly turned back to their lively conversation.

There weren’t even any customers in the shop.

They weren’t busy at all.

But no one was willing to acknowledge her.

Finally, a girl who couldn’t stand it anymore led her to change into her uniform.

Zhou Nianzhi couldn’t even count how many times she said “thank you” on the way there.

The four-hour shift felt like a century.

“Hey! How many times have I told you, this goes here!”

“You got it wrong again. Can’t you read? You look young and educated, but you can’t even recognize all the words. Where are your eyes?”

“Your movements are too slow! Can’t you hurry up?!”

Amidst the constant scolding, Zhou Nianzhi could only silently accept it, replying again and again, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll pay attention next time.”

This wasn’t her first time doing this kind of job, and her movements weren’t slow. She learned things quite quickly, but for some reason, here she was constantly met with setbacks, and they always found a new problem to point out.

Zhou Nianzhi could only be grateful that the mask covered her face; otherwise, the corners of her mouth would have revealed her feelings.

On her way home after her shift, every step Zhou Nianzhi took felt heavy. She walked back dejectedly, not even in the mood for dinner. She just wanted to get home, collapse for a bit, and then get her head straight before going to work at the supermarket.

Someone walked past her, drinking bubble tea, and Zhou Nianzhi felt so uncomfortable that she turned her head to look the other way.

The colorful-haired teens appeared again.

Just a few days ago, they had been chatting about late-night ghost stories, talking nonstop.

Now, they were squatting silently by the stairs.

“Have you guys thought about where you’re going after graduation?”

Zhou Nianzhi recognized the yellow-haired one speaking. His name was Dahu, and he was the one who had been so scared he’d yelled about what he had seen. But now, he was squatting on the ground, his voice low.

No one answered him.

Dahu, probably wanting a cigarette, felt his pockets. Finding nothing, he asked the person next to him for one.

The person opposite him said, “Dahu, Xiaolu and Xiaoyun are here. Don’t smoke in front of the girls.”

Dahu patted his head, lowered it, and mumbled, “Sorry, I just…”

A purple-haired girl sighed and could only manage to say, “It’s fine.”

Parting is always painful.

That sigh, carried by the wind, reached Zhou Nianzhi’s ears.

She snapped back to reality, stopped looking at the teenagers, and continued walking.

Time really flies.

In the blink of an eye, it was graduation season again.

They would grow new hair or maybe dye it a new color. They would meet new friends and go to different cities to embrace new lives.

But the memories of this time, whether good or bad, were incredibly precious.

Because it was these little moments that made up a person’s life.

Zhou Nianzhi walked home, quickly drank some water, called her mother, rested for a bit, and then rushed to the supermarket.

She was so busy.

She was so busy that she thought she was about to forget the pain of their parting.

She was so busy that she thought she had already begun a new life.

But she also knew that the scars on her heart would always remain.

Just like the canker sore in her mouth, a slight touch would send a wave of pain through her.

At night, when the supermarket wasn’t busy, Zhou Nianzhi would often get lost in her thoughts. She would see middle schoolers in their uniforms, most of the girls with simple ponytails or short hair that reached their ears. They would wander around the supermarket in groups, playfully arguing about which notebook or pen was prettier. As soon as they got their allowance, they’d buy an expensive snack, show it off to their friends, and then generously say, “You guys can try some later,” just to hear them say, “Wow, you’re the best.”

When Zhou Nianzhi saw these scenes, her heart felt warm, and it brought back memories of her own happy, innocent times. However, people always grew up. In the supermarket, she also saw exhausted workers who got off work late. They carried bags that they had yearned for as a child and had long hair that showed their maturity, but their faces were haggard, and thick foundation couldn’t hide their dark circles. Their contact lenses were dry and painful after a day of wear, and they had to budget carefully even when shopping for groceries. As they waited to pay, they would hold up their lower back, which ached from sitting for too long.

The laughing and bustling middle schoolers walked among the workers. In that one moment of eye contact, they longed for each other’s lives.

After her shift, Zhou Nianzhi rushed to the hospital again.

Seeing that the area was quiet, she lowered her steps and walked in softly.

Sheng Ning was the first to notice her and said, “Zhizhi.”

This time, the caregiver wasn’t asleep. She said to Zhou Nianzhi, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep a close eye on your mother. I won’t doze off again.”

Zhou Nianzhi nodded, thanking her gratefully.

Sheng Ning waved to her, struggled to sit up from the bed, and said weakly, “Zhizhi… come here.”

Zhou Nianzhi walked over. In the dim room with only a little light, she could see Sheng Ning’s aged face.

The traces of time had left so much on Sheng Ning. Her face was etched with lines that would never heal, becoming permanent wrinkles.

“Mom,” Zhou Nianzhi’s tears couldn’t be held back. She had endured so much emotional torment during the day, but none of it was as painful as this moment. After trying her best to hold back her sobs, her voice still trembled, “What is it?”

“Don’t cry, Zhizhi…” Sheng Ning reached out with a hand full of needle marks, so thin it was just skin over bone, yet still strong enough to wipe away her daughter’s tears. “I think I’m getting better… I won’t need another surgery…”

Zhou Nianzhi’s tears completely broke free. This was the fifth time she had heard Sheng Ning say this to her. At first, she had been truly happy, thinking that the illness was finally letting go of her mother. However, after asking the doctor, she learned that there had been no improvement.

One surgery after another, Zhou Nianzhi couldn’t even bear to watch. But Sheng Ning had to face it all in order to live.

“Your uncle came to see me today… and he paid some more money… You don’t have to work so hard anymore…” Sheng Ning’s voice was hoarse, and she coughed several times.

“Mom, please rest well.” Zhou Nianzhi pulled the blanket up, not daring to look at Sheng Ning. She could only bite her lip hard to hold back the tears that shouldn’t fall.

Sheng Ning held Zhou Nianzhi’s hand and repeated, “Don’t work too hard…”

Mom knows everything.

Mom feels so much pain for her.

As a child, she would secretly watch TV. She thought that if she turned off the TV before her mother’s footsteps stopped at the door and quickly ran back to her room to do homework, her mother wouldn’t know what had happened and would think she was diligently studying.

But in reality, her clumsy acting, the hot TV, and the wrong slippers she accidentally wore had already betrayed her.

It was the same now.

With just a glance, her mother knew all of her daughter’s emotions.

In her mother’s words from when she was younger:

“She’s the daughter who came from my belly. How could I not know what she’s thinking every day?”

Zhou Nianzhi trembled almost uncontrollably, barely able to utter a “fine.”

Sheng Ning choked up, her voice getting lower and lower: “Your dad would be in pain, too…”

Ah.

Her tears, now completely out of control, poured out.

It didn’t rain today.

But her heart had been raining all night.

After leaving the hospital, Zhou Nianzhi walked alone on the street. Suddenly, a car horn blared from the road beside her.

Beep—

She was so startled that her heart gave a violent lurch, and she almost couldn’t breathe.

Zhou Nianzhi stood rooted to the spot for a long time. Her heart was still racing. The persistent feeling of distress brought forth the pain deep in her memories, like a giant rock pressing on her chest that she couldn’t move, no matter how hard she tried.

She had no strength to walk on and simply sat down on a nearby flower bed. She covered her eyes, trembling all over, letting her tears soak her clothes.

“Crying won’t solve anything.”

This was Zhou Chenggang’s favorite saying. To his daughter, who had loved to cry since she was a child, the father would often sigh, annoyed by her crying. But he never scolded her. He would just kindly try to comfort her, and if he couldn’t soothe her, he would secretly buy Zhou Nianzhi an ice cream behind Sheng Ning’s back.

“Don’t tell your mom, or she’ll get mad at me again,” Zhou Chenggang would say while bending down to wipe away the ice cream residue from his daughter’s face with a tissue.

“No,” Zhou Nianzhi said, her mouth still full of ice cream. She held out her other hand and mumbled, “I want potato chips, too!”

“This little girl is so clever.” Zhou Chenggang poked his daughter’s forehead with his fingertip, then stood up and took her outstretched hand, walking toward the convenience store. “Alright, alright, I’ll get you everything. But once you’ve eaten, no more crying!”

No one comforted her like that anymore.

She no longer had a dad.

Zhou Nianzhi buried her face in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

I’m sorry.

I still cry over everything.

So, Dad.

When will you come and comfort me?

The hardships and difficulties she had endured were insignificant.

But the longing often crushed her.

She felt like she was suffocating.

Like a person drowning, struggling tirelessly, yet still sinking.

“Zhou Nianzhi.”

She opened her eyes in the water, and through the haze, she saw a person.

The person stood on the shore, walking toward her.

Who is it?

Splash.

The sound of something falling into the water came from a nearby lake. It was a light splash, probably from a passerby accidentally kicking a stone into the water.

Zhou Nianzhi wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes. Her blurry vision returned to clarity, and she saw the person in front of her.

It was Song Yuli.

Why did she always appear when Zhou Nianzhi was at her most vulnerable?

Zhou Nianzhi buried her head back in her arms.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see Song Yuli.

It was that they shouldn’t see each other.

But Song Yuli didn’t say a word; she just handed her a tissue.

Zhou Nianzhi wanted to refuse, but she realized she had no tissues on her, so she reluctantly took it.

After wiping away her tears and snot, she didn’t ask Song Yuli why she was there. She had no right to question her actions. But seeing that Song Yuli was still standing there, she finally spoke up and asked, “Is something wrong?”