She Is So Hard To Get - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Owe

A single, nonchalant “just” betrayed the girl’s deeply hidden feelings.

Seeing through her insincerity, Yan Ningxi chose to believe the surface story: “It must be sad, right? Witnessing a weak life end right in front of you.”

“There’s nothing to be sad about. It was its fate.”

Ming You left the apartment at dawn and saw a white stray cat that had been hit by a car, lying on the road, barely alive. Not far away in the flower bed, a small black and white kitten was crying pitifully.

Without much inner struggle, she immediately carried the two cats into a taxi.

The bl00d on Ming You was left by the dirty white cat. The trembling kitten, after being held in her arms, retracted its claws and licked the large cat’s matted long fur, occasionally licking Ming You’s hand as well.

Unfortunately, the large white cat stopped breathing on the way.

She left both cats at a pet hospital and transferred two thousand yuan to the shop.

—Please use your hospital’s methods to bury the large cat and find someone to adopt the kitten. Is this enough money?

The doctor nodded: “It’s enough.”

No one knew how much she loved cats and dogs. She had fantasized countless times about being an idle kitten or puppy, anything would be better than being a homeless and aimless nobody like she was now.

Just after Yan Ningxi left, she had opened her social media and posted a new entry—The Wandering White Cat.

There was a white cat that lived in a sewer.

There was no soft hay, no fresh air, and no other cat as white as she.

Pure white, in repeated cold rain and dust haze, rotted in the turbid sewage, choked with dead leaves.

As time went by, she forgot what it meant to be warm and full, growing used to wandering.

For her, the world was eternal winter, cycling endlessly. It was so long she couldn’t find the direction of spring.

Countless nights, she could only curl up in the damp, moldy corner, falling asleep to the grating noise.

Peace was her greatest luxury.

In the early morning, the filthy cat crawled out of the sewer, looking up at the sky with her beautiful eyes, and said good morning to the world.

But destiny, controlled by malice, swept over her.

In a pool of bl00d, the small body shrank into a ball.

This morning was long and loud, yet quiet and short; This place was dry and parched, yet cold and damp.

She closed her eyes, letting the pain pull the dream farther and farther away.

So far that she vaguely saw one just like her, clean, white cat.

It wasn’t human bl00d; Yan Ningxi could finally relax. Although she felt sorry for the cat, Yan Ningxi was more concerned about Ming You’s safety.

Having gotten her answer, she stood up to get Ming You something to eat.

Seeing her unpacking food, Ming You kicked the blanket off and got out of bed: “I’m so hungry! What delicious food did you buy, Sister Yan?”

“Congee, but it’s already cold.”

“Cold is good. I’m feverish, so it’ll help cool me down.”

Ming You sat on the chair barefoot, held the food container with both hands, and sniffed the aroma: “Yam, corn, and pork rib congee. It smells amazing.” She then took a big sip.

Drinking cold congee in this weather was not unusual. Yan Ningxi didn’t repeat any advice about being sick. She stood quietly aside and asked: “What do you want for dinner? I’ll bring it over for you.”

These two simple sentences sounded like something a friend of many years would say. Ming You’s hand, which was unwrapping the spoon, paused.

“Whatever. Anything is fine. I’ll eat whatever you buy, Sister Yan.”

Since childhood, she had learned not to state her preferences in front of others. She wouldn’t ask adults for gifts, teachers for attention, or people around her for affection.

She finally found something she wanted during high school and put in much effort for it, but fate had other plans and dashed her hopes.

It was a wake-up call, making her realize that for a lonely traveler, wishful thinking was an illusion.

After Ming You finished eating, Yan Ningxi tossed the trash and went to the hotel lobby’s reading area to borrow a book: Yáoyáo: You Qī (Distant Hope).

She didn’t typically enjoy watching stage plays, but this well-known classic play’s title alone stood out among the pile of books from different genres, countries, and eras. If the opportunity presented itself, there was no harm in reading it.

Ming You caught sight of the title and asked: “Sister Yan, are you reading the Yáoyáo: You Qī that is currently on national tour?”

It was hard not to have heard of a play that had been performed to full houses since the 1980s.

“Mhm.” Yan Ningxi opened the book and placed it on her lap. She hadn’t paid attention to whether it was touring. She looked at the girl: “Have you seen it?”

Ming You shook her head: “Life has enough suffering. Why watch a tragedy about unrequited love?” When comedy and tragedy are played simultaneously, it doesn’t make the comedy happier; it only makes the tragedy sadder.

Yan Ningxi: “Ming You…”

“I’ll play on my phone.” Ming You pulled the blanket up to her chin and turned her back to Yan Ningxi: “Sister Yan, you read your book. If you’re tired or want to leave, then leave. I’m not a three-year-old, and you’re not obligated to take care of me.”

The room fell quiet.

The one reading was silent, all her emotions deep inside her heart.

The one scrolling her phone was drowsy.

After her nap, Ming You’s temperature dropped to 37.2°C.

Yan Ningxi was finally relieved. She picked up the book, which she was about halfway through, and instructed: “Your fever just broke. Stay put and don’t wander off. See you tonight.”

What a stern-sounding “don’t wander off,” and what a casually delivered “See you tonight.”

Ming You was initially stunned, then nodded in agreement: “See you tonight, Sister Yan.”

“I’ve disinfected and cleaned the kettle. You must drink hot water. Send me a photo.” Was it a trick of the light, or did Yan Ningxi genuinely see a look of anticipation in Ming You’s actions and micro-expressions?

“Okay, I promise.” Taking a photo as proof was her own suggestion.

Yan Ningxi opened the door, and Ming You called out: “Sister Yan, don’t return that book yet.”

Upon arriving home, Yan Ningxi opened the refrigerator to look at the ingredients, considering what meal to prepare, when a message from Ming You arrived.

“I came to see you yesterday because I wanted to apologize in person.”

“I’m sorry, Sister Yan.”

“My attitude was bad the day before yesterday. I was acting unreasonably. Will you forgive me?”

Yan Ningxi held her phone, silent for a long time before replying: “I’m not mad at you. You don’t need to feel guilty.”

Ming You: “I don’t want to owe you too much. Please accept the dress as a gift in return, Sister Yan. Otherwise, I won’t be able to rest.”

Yan Ningxi: “Okay.”

Yan Ningxi wasn’t wrong. Ming You was actually anticipating their meeting again tonight, and the delicious dinner she would bring. That is, if she hadn’t sent that last message.

When messaging Yan Ningxi, Ming You was curled up on the sofa. It was the spot Yan Ningxi had sat in, and she was holding the book Yan Ningxi had been reading.

The people and things that interested her in this world were few and far between, and Yan Ningxi was one of them. Perhaps it was because of her contradicting first impression, the scent or temperature of her body, or maybe it was just because the timing of their meeting was perfect.

Undeniably, Yan Ningxi’s presence had brought Ming You an unprecedented sense of comfort, both physically and psychologically.

If it weren’t for Yan Ningxi’s indescribable “soothing” effect on her, the newlyweds, the Jiangs, would probably have been the ones who’ve been having “no peace” these past few days.

However, a new message made her warming heart turn icy cold again.

Yan Ningxi had sent: “We’re even now.”

Yan Ningxi, who was desperate to cut ties with her, who was desperate to draw a clear line—was she truly worthy of her anticipation?

She almost forgot. Yan Ningxi was also a teacher. She had just suffered a huge setback at the hands of a teacher, her wounds were still raw and bleeding, the pain was still sharp and mixed with bitterness, yet she was already rushing headlong into a similar predicament.

Her own similar predicament.

In the evening, Yan Ningxi arrived “as promised” with the food she had cooked herself.

The girl was gracious and ate almost everything. Their interaction was tacit: one was neither warm nor cold, the other was reserved, and neither mentioned the matter of debts.

The hotel didn’t have dish soap or a sink for washing dishes. In the past, Ming You would have simply thrown away dirty, unwashed utensils to save trouble, but she couldn’t unilaterally decide to toss Yan Ningxi’s bowls and chopsticks in front of her.

She wiped off the grease with a paper towel and packed each item carefully: “Can you join me for lunch outside tomorrow? There’s a restaurant on the pedestrian street I’ve wanted to go to for a long time.”

Only after she had tidied everything did Yan Ningxi reach out: “Lunch is fine. Nothing spicy, though.”

“It’s a Chinese restaurant with many dishes. We’ll order non-spicy ones.” Seeing Yan Ningxi about to leave with her things, Ming You quickly went to the bathroom, washed her hands with shower gel, and came out as Yan Ningxi reached the door.

“Okay. Send me your temperature reading before you leave tomorrow. If it’s normal, then send me the restaurant address.”

Ming You was surprised by the woman’s level of “caution.” Knowing that Yan Ningxi was doing this out of concern for her health, she nodded honestly and smiled as she bid her farewell: “See you tomorrow, Sister Yan. And thank you for dinner.”

“It wasn’t wasted, that’s thanks enough.”

Ming You didn’t feel completely at ease about Yan Ningxi’s dinner.

She had suggested eating out because she didn’t want Yan Ningxi to have to go back and wash the bowls she had used after cooking for her. While Yan Ningxi would still be doing both the cooking and the washing, the situation in the apartment versus the hotel gave Ming You two completely different feelings.

The next day, as soon as she woke up, Ming You took her temperature; it was within the normal range. She took it again at eleven; normal.

She took photos of both temperature readings and sent them to Yan Ningxi, along with the restaurant address.

She said she had wanted to go there for a long time, but it was actually just a highly-rated restaurant she had found on an app last night. The environment, food, and ratings were all good, and it could be reserved in advance, avoiding the issue of long queues.

The restaurant was on the sixth floor of a mall on the outskirts of the pedestrian street. The two were seated by the window, directly opposite the landmark of the street: the Zhongbei Tower.

To emphasize her “craving” for this place, Ming You scanned the QR code on the table as soon as she sat down. After selecting a few items, she handed the phone to Yan Ningxi: “I’ve ordered a few signature dishes. Sister Yan, take a look. If anything’s unsuitable, remove it, and if there’s anything you want, order it.”

It was the same phone she had dropped yesterday. The crack started at the bottom-left corner and traveled northeast, winding and branching out, almost like a piece of art.

Yan Ningxi took the phone and concentrated on the ordered dishes. For just the two of them, Ming You had ordered four main dishes, two desserts, and one snack.

So, she deleted one of the seafood medley dishes and replaced it with two small bowls of soup: “That’ll do.”

“I’m placing the order then.” Ming You confirmed the order without even looking at the phone.

While waiting for the food, Yan Ningxi looked at the phone face down on the table and asked: “How long have you had this phone?”

Ming You followed Yan Ningxi’s gaze and replied: “About two years.” She flipped the phone over, poking the crack near the edge: “I’ve been using it since my freshman year. Even if it wasn’t broken, it’s about time for it to retire.”

“The phone breaking is partly my responsibility. Let’s go get a new one later. I’ll pay.”

Should she replace it?

Yes, she should.

Old people and old things should all be thrown into the long river of time.

Ming You propped her chin on her right hand, her eyes smiling as she looked at Yan Ningxi across the table: “Sister Yan, if you pay for it, I’ll owe you again.”