Secrets of the Secondhand Shop - Chapter 5

Zeng Yunxiang.

Chairman of the Board, Shanxi Leyun Coal Trading Holdings Ltd.

Chen Xiaocheng took the business card and glanced again at the man in front of her. He was clearly dressed in expensive clothes, and from appearance alone, it was hard to pin down his age—maybe in his forties—but he didn’t have the energy or spirit of someone in their forties. He was balding, with a sallow complexion. If Zhao Jinsong weren’t so sick, he could’ve passed as handsome. Zeng Yunxiang, on the other hand, was far less attractive than Zhao Jinsong, but he gave her a much stronger sense of security. Not the vague kind of security people mean when they talk about a warm embrace, but real, tangible safety—the kind that ensures you have food to eat, clothes to wear, and never have to feel inferior again.

She was tired of hearing people say, “As long as he treats you well, that’s enough.”

But what exactly was a coal trading company? Chen Xiaocheng didn’t really understand. What she did understand, though, was the meaning of “Chairman of the Board.”

She gave a faint smile. “Mr. Zeng, what kind of drink would you like?”

“Miss Chen, you order. Anything’s fine,” Zeng Yunxiang grinned, flipping through the menu with casual boldness.

“Xiaocheng, I see you working here day after day—it’s not easy. We go way back, so I thought I’d introduce you to Mr. Zeng,” said Dong Jian, sitting to Chen Xiaocheng’s left. She only knew he worked at some government office, but no one really knew which one. Dong Jian was clever like that—he never told anyone.

Dong Jian was a regular. Every time he came to the club, he brought along someone claiming to be a company president, and it was always that “president” who picked up the tab. This wasn’t the first time Dong Jian had introduced her to some big shot. Chen Xiaocheng had a boyfriend, so she’d always drawn her line and refused Dong Jian’s offers. But lately, she felt like a dried-out corpse drained by a vampire, left in a desert to be picked apart by vultures.

So this time, she took the card.

“Is Mr. Zeng married?” she asked casually as she picked the most expensive drink on the menu.

“Haha, you’re funny, Xiaocheng. How could someone as young as Mr. Zeng be married?” Dong Jian laughed as he slapped her leg, warning her not to say anything inappropriate, then quickly turned to smile apologetically at Zeng Yunxiang.

Zeng Yunxiang just laughed a couple of times, his tone unreadable.

Seeing Dong Jian’s reaction, Chen Xiaocheng realized the question might’ve been unnecessary. A man his age—he either had a family or had something wrong with him.

“What does it matter if he’s married?” Dong Jian lowered his voice and whispered in her ear. “As long as he pays. I’ll help you get a contract worked out with Mr. Zeng. What he expects from you, how much he’ll pay each month, any additional terms—it’ll all be clearly written out.”

“A contract?” Chen Xiaocheng was stunned. So society has evolved to this point already? I really am falling behind.

“Of course!” Dong Jian shot her a glare, as if to say she was asking something ridiculous.

After a while, Dong Jian got up to leave. Before going, he reminded her to treat Mr. Zeng well. If Zeng gave good feedback, Dong Jian would give her a bonus—of course, he meant money.

Zeng Yunxiang seemed genuinely interested in her, and Chen Xiaocheng also felt like she could talk to him. The atmosphere that night was surprisingly comfortable. Looking at this successful man in front of her, Chen Xiaocheng couldn’t help feeling a little empty inside.

“Mr. Zeng, have you ever heard of a disease called primary pulmonary hypertension?” Her eyes looked slightly dazed—maybe she’d had too much to drink. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have asked something like that.

Zeng Yunxiang shook his head. “What’s that? Never heard of it. Why?”

Chen Xiaocheng smiled. “Nothing, just curious.”

“Oh, right.” She reached into her bag, took out a pen, and wrote her name and phone number on the back of his business card.

Chen Xiaocheng.
13810109824.

She always did things this way—exchanging contact info in a direct, old-fashioned style. If someone was interested, they’d save the number and call. If not, they could just toss the card.

After writing it down, she handed the card back to Zeng Yunxiang.

“I don’t need your card. If you’re interested, you can reach out.”

Zeng Yunxiang took it, looking at her meaningfully, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The sky was starting to brighten. The sun peeked over the horizon, signaling the start of a new day. But for Chen Xiaocheng, the day was already ending. She dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment on the outskirts of Beijing. Twelve square meters—that tiny bedroom was the entire home she shared with her lover.

Zhao Jinsong was still asleep, lying there like a shriveled corpse. Shriveled is fine. If he starts swelling, then it’s really over, she thought.

She glanced at the pile of medicine in the corner. They’d used up this month’s supply. She’d have to figure something out for next month. But if things went smoothly this time, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard.

Suddenly, Zhao Jinsong’s body convulsed violently. He started coughing so hard it sounded like his lungs might tear apart. Chen Xiaocheng rushed over to help him up. The coughing turned into dry heaves, and a mouthful of bl00d sprayed onto the sheets. The stench of death filled the room. Her heart clenched. Is there really no hope left?

“You okay?” she asked once the violent coughing finally stopped.

Zhao Jinsong let out a weak laugh. What could he say? He just waved his hand and lay back down, drained.

“Let’s go to the hospital later,” Chen Xiaocheng began to gather clothes for him, but he stopped her.

“It’s no use… forget it… I’ll just rest at home…” Even speaking had become difficult. Life was too exhausting, but if there was even the slightest chance of survival, who wouldn’t want to hang on a little longer?

Chen Xiaocheng didn’t insist. She put down the clothes and started to clean the bloodstained sheets. If she didn’t wash them soon, the stains would never come out.

But if she did laundry at this hour, the middle-aged landlady would definitely start yelling again. So she just soaked the sheets in water in the bathroom. She glanced at the master bedroom. The landlady sure was lucky—her husband left her this big house in Beijing before he died. Even though she didn’t have much ability herself, collecting rent was enough to live comfortably for the rest of her life.

Looking into the mirror, Chen Xiaocheng saw that her once-beautiful eyes were now ringed with fine lines far beyond her age. A wave of sadness washed over her.

I’m so tired, she thought. I just want to live a comfortable life too. But every time she felt like giving in, three people would appear in her mind: Zhao Jinsong, her mother, and her younger brother—a boyfriend with a terminal illness, a helpless mother stuck in a rural village, and a younger brother still in middle school who needed her care.

Many of her girlfriends had told her to break up with Zhao Jinsong. He’s basically a dead man already. There’s no hope. Just walk away. And she had thought about it—not just once. The reason wasn’t only his illness. There were other things too, things that made her want to leave. But the same reasons also made it impossible for her to walk away.

And that reason she couldn’t escape—well, she’d made peace with it. He’s going to die eventually anyway. Besides, as long as I don’t bring up leaving, he still treats me well in some ways. If it hadn’t been for his well-paying job, her mother and brother wouldn’t be living as decently as they were now. Thinking of everything he had done for her in the past, she decided to stay with him until the very end.

Ding-dong.

Her phone buzzed. A text message.

This is my number. Zeng Yunxiang.

Her heart skipped a beat. She looked at the message, feeling a mix of happiness, sorrow, and pain. The emotions swirled inside her.

Just close your eyes, grit your teeth—it’ll all pass, she told herself.

After meeting Zeng Yunxiang, she hadn’t expected things between them to develop so quickly. He seemed to genuinely like her, and she found herself drawn to him as well. Money really was a wonderful thing—it could make a relationship feel simple and pure. When she was with him, there were no worries, no stress. It was just the two of them, enjoying each other’s company. Nothing else mattered.

Well—except for that one person.

That person was like a grain of sand lodged in her heart. Whenever she felt truly happy, that grain reminded her not to lose herself.

Chen Xiaocheng thought life would continue on like this, quiet and predictable, until Zhao Jinsong died. But sometimes, life doesn’t care about your expectations.

On February 14, 2014, everything changed.

To her, that day felt like a gift from heaven—a second chance. Standing at a crossroads, it was as if God had shown her a clear path. She had hesitated, of course. But after all the suffering, she wanted release—for herself, and for Zhao Jinsong.

That evening, she went to the bar for work like usual but then got a call from Zeng Yunxiang’s secretary. Mr. Zeng wanted to see her.

She thought it would just be another night like any other. But she hadn’t expected Zeng Yunxiang to pull out an engagement ring and propose to her—right there in bed, after they had made love.

“Marry me,” he said, his face barely visible in the dim light. The moonlight filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows didn’t quite reach him.

Chen Xiaocheng hadn’t imagined that they would actually get married. So her first reaction wasn’t joy—it was shock.

“Marry me, okay?” he asked again.

She stared at the glittering gem in his hand. It looked like a beacon in the dark night, a light to guide a lost soul home.

“I have a boyfriend,” she said, finally.

“He’s terminally ill, isn’t he? It’s just a matter of time. And I can give him… a better ending.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I can make sure he dies… the right way.”