Chapter Thirty-Two: Willows Swaying Gently

“Hm? Uncle, how did you know? Did someone from the factory tell you? I did catch a chill a few days ago and was sick for several days.”

“Oh, is that so? Looks like I guessed right. I know a little about traditional medicine. Your complexion is flushed but with dark patches, and the rims of your eyes are slightly red, which points to heat in the heart. You must feel some dryness and heat in your body, and your chest hurts now and then?”

“Uncle, you’re amazing, you know everything.”

Hearing this, Cui Yue realized he had every one of those symptoms himself. He hadn’t expected Old Duan, the storekeeper, to know so much, and he couldn’t help but admire him.

“Xiao Cui, was your illness serious a few days ago?”

“I just suddenly fainted in the factory. I felt hot one moment, cold the next, then dizzy and confused, didn’t know anything. Rested at home for two days before I felt better. Strangely, ever since then...”

“Do you feel unusually energetic, able to eat and drink more, run and jump, and can finish more bowls at meals?”

Old Duan interrupted coldly.

Cui Yue hadn’t noticed the change in Old Duan’s tone, just found it all remarkable.

“Yes, yes, Uncle, you even know that!”

Old Duan didn’t answer but asked again.

“Have you encountered anything unclean recently, like seeing a ghost?”

Cui Yue was stunned, his mind racing, unsure how to respond to Old Duan. Only he and Zhang Hu knew about the incident with Yang Liu, and only he knew he’d seen Huang Juan’s ghost. He’d never mentioned it to anyone. How did Old Duan know?

“This, uh, I...”

Cui Yue didn’t know what to say, stumbling over his words.

Old Duan seemed aware of his slip, his tone relaxed again, smiling and waving his hand.

“Haha, I just used traditional medicine theory, observed your complexion, and guessed you’d been frightened by something unclean.”

Cui Yue felt relieved, ready to make up a story, when a loud voice interrupted him.

“Hey, we’re back to the freedom of the working class now, feeling refreshed all over. Thanks, Master Duan! I’m dying of thirst.”

Zhang Hao, his hair still damp, snatched up the cold tea on the stone table and drank two cups in quick succession, sighing with satisfaction.

Old Duan smiled at Zhang Hao, and didn’t ask Cui Yue anything more.

Cui Yue let out a light breath, finally able to relax.

The hour was late, and the three remembered it was nearly time to change shifts. If Zhang Hu found out they’d snuck out, the consequences would be dire and bloody.

They hurriedly said goodbye to Old Duan, promised to come for tea another day, and dashed toward the back gate of the factory.

As they left, Cui Yue glanced back, his face uncertain, feeling something unsettling in his heart. Seeing Old Duan wave, he quickly waved in return and chased after Da Zhuang and the others.

Watching the three disappear, Old Duan’s face darkened. He poured the remaining tea from his cup onto the courtyard floor, standing alone and muttering.

To save or not to save?

He repeated it several times, as if struggling with a decision. Suddenly he slumped, mocking himself.

Ha, who could ever save me?

Wind rose at the horizon, flowers and grass bent low. In this passing world, karma and retribution come around; who knows where to pause, where to go on? The scenery by the roadside may be beautiful, but a heart without beauty cannot see it; wildflowers underfoot may be humble, but their smiles are as radiant as blossoms.

When will I lay down the long blade in my hand, the world in my heart? Helplessness is your excuse, mine as well.

A sigh for fate—cut off the six roots, sever karma, sit beneath the earth and become Buddha. All beings suffer; the cycle of rebirth is suffering.

Back home, Cui Yue felt heavy as if weighed down by thousands of pounds. He greeted Cui Yuanjun at the door, then collapsed onto the bed, clutching his head, replaying Old Duan’s words in his mind. There was something odd about Old Duan’s expressions and questions. Thinking of all the strange events lately, he couldn't make sense of anything.

Wrong, it all felt wrong. His mind was a muddle, the more he tried, the worse it got. If he kept thinking, his head would surely explode. With his head pounding, he buried himself in the quilt, wanting to do nothing, but tossed and turned all night without sleep.

Early the next morning, Cui Yue, in uniform, stood at the factory gate, yawning, listless.

Zhang Hao nudged him secretly, whispering,

“Are you crazy? The director’s coming, stand straight.”

That was like a shot of adrenaline—just as effective as Zhang Hu’s belt on his back. Cui Yue forced himself to stand tall and alert.

After the director passed, Cui Yue slumped back into his lifeless state.

Zhang Hao and Da Zhuang exchanged looks that said, “He’s beyond saving, take him out and shoot him for five minutes.”

Cui Yue was drooping, wondering where he could sneak a nap. Suddenly a fair arm waved in front of his eyes.

He looked up and saw a white dress, a sweet smile, and a braided plait resting on a shoulder.

“Hey, why are you napping in broad daylight? It’s not the night shift.”

Cui Yue blinked, swallowed nervously, and realized it was Yang Liu from Workshop Two. Ever since the first time he met Yang Liu, he’d felt a flutter in his heart, often thinking about her. Whenever he was on duty, he’d wander around Workshop Two, sometimes striking up a conversation. But every time he saw her, his face would flush furiously, the situation awkward beyond belief.

“Hey, of course I didn’t sleep well. Besides, who says you can’t nap during the day?”

Cui Yue blushed, forcing a reply.

“Pfft, looks like you’ve been up to no good,” Yang Liu teased, pursing her lips.

“You’re the one up to no good,” Cui Yue retorted, unable to resist staring at her playful expression. Glancing aside, he saw Zhang Hao and Da Zhuang making faces from the security room window, their antics so irritating he wanted to beat them up. Then he saw Zhang Hu at the window, knocking their heads and scolding them, “What are you looking at? Don’t you have work to do?”

The two quickly covered their heads and slipped away. Cui Yue turned to Zhang Hu with an awkward smile, and just as Zhang Hu had looked stern a moment ago, now he leaned on the window grinning, winking suggestively with a lewd face that clearly meant, “Go on, make your move!”

Cui Yue’s face went dark, annoyed, and turned away. Muttering, “Old and shameless, worse than those two.”

Yang Liu bit her lip lightly, not quite catching what he said.

“Huh? What did you say?”

“Nothing, nothing at all,” Cui Yue covered.

“Hey, could you bring me lunch at noon?”

“Why?”

“I have to work overtime in the workshop and can’t leave.”

“Service fee?”

“Service fee my foot! Next time I’ll bring you lunch.”

“Well, what do you want to eat?”