Chapter 7
247 Words
Luo Qi slipped into a spaghetti-strap dress, adjusting her tousled hair in the mirror. Careful not to wake her mother, she tiptoed toward the door.
Jiang Yifang emerged from her bedroom, squinting at the clock. "Out so late?"
"He's at the alley entrance."
"Shixiao's here?"
The apartment erupted into muted chaos. Jiang Yifang fluffed couch pillows with military precision. "Keep him outside fifteen minutes! The bathroom—"
"Mom, it's fine."
"Fine?" Jiang Yifang jammed loose items into drawers. "His family dines at Michelin stars!"
On Shiqiao Bridge, Pei Shixiao's cigarette ember pulsed like a distress beacon. Luo Qi sprinted through drizzle into his arms.
"Missed you," he murmured into her rain-damp hair.
The lie tasted metallic. Six months of canceled dates condensed into this damp embrace.
Their footsteps echoed through the alley's Qing-dynasty cobblestones. Inside, Jiang Yifang's reorganized living room gleamed with desperate hospitality.
"Try the pickled radish." Luo Qi pushed a dish across laminate.
Pei Shixiao's Rolex caught fluorescent light. "Remember your eighteenth? Caviar in crystal..."
"These preserved vegetables are better." Her laugh strained.
The unspoken debt ledger unfolded between them—his family's discreet loan payments, her uncle's "generous" villa offer.
Dawn found Luo Qi wandering rain-slicked embankments. Sunflowers from the morning market dripped onto her sleeve.
"Early riser?"
Jiang Shenghe materialized like a specter, sweat-soaked from his punishing run.
"Wedding dress fitting today," she offered, clutching yellow petals.
His jaw muscle twitched. "Congratulations."
The word hung leaden. Somewhere downstream, Shiqiao's guardian spirits sighed.
- Writer
