9 A Fierce Battle

Si Mingming had a truly restful sleep. Her senses, fully awakened, relaxed every pore on her body, and her entire dream felt light and ethereal.

She couldn’t recall the last time she had slept beside a man with warmth. Her feelings toward men were peculiar—men were not a necessity for her. Whenever desire arose, she always found a way to satisfy it. Yet sometimes, a vibrant man exerted a fatal attraction over her.

She considered her own lust to be sparse and fleeting: it would flare up briefly, reminding her it was still alive, then vanish again. Past experiences with men that were truly good were few and far between. After this one night’s experience, she even felt that the men she had encountered before paled in comparison to that little thing.

She expressed her gratitude to Lu Manman, who replied, “That’s nothing! Next time I’ll bring you something really amazing!”

“One thing.” Lu Manman’s choice of words immediately sparked Mingming’s imagination. As she pondered exactly what kind of “one thing” that could be, her doorbell buzzed. With disheveled hair and a messy appearance, she went to open the door, thinking it might be a delivery, only to find her newlywed husband standing there.

He looked wilted, like he’d been frostbitten but not quite withered away, his body barely holding up his proud head. Even seeing Si Mingming didn’t seem to revive him.

Rarely did Si Mingming open her eyes wide upon seeing someone. “Why are you here?” she asked.

“Your phone was off.”

“Oh, I have two phones,” she suddenly realized.

Indeed, Si Mingming carried two phones: one for work and unrelated people, and the other for those important to her. When she was in a bad mood, she wouldn’t hesitate to turn off the phone that held the unimportant contacts—even at night while sleeping. It was like having two personas: the one the outside world saw and the one only her closest friends knew—completely different.

Su Jingqiu, somewhat annoyed, nodded repeatedly. “Alright, alright. You’re amazing, you’re awesome.”

Si Mingming sensed his mood but, guided by reason, habitually chose to address the issue first. She asked, “Are you here about dinner today?”

“If not, then what?” Su Jingqiu snapped, seeing Si Mingming blocking the door. “Aren’t you letting me in?”

“Please come in.” Si Mingming yawned and turned to walk away. Unlike before, when he had seen her a few times—either frightening or excessively sun-protected—today she was disheveled, makeup-free, probably well rested, as her eyes sparkled with energy. She paid no mind to appearances, her slender figure wrapped in long-sleeved pajamas. She casually pointed to the sofa. “Sit there and wait for me.”

While brushing her teeth, she thought that since Su Jingqiu was a restaurant owner, making breakfast shouldn’t be hard. So, toothbrush in her mouth, hands on hips, she mumbled, “Have you eaten breakfast?”

“No.”

“Then make something.”

Si Mingming had a unique talent for dialects. She dealt with people from all over, each with their own accents, and recently, her daily sparring with Chen Ming had helped her pick up his dialect naturally. Su Jingqiu was gradually getting used to her quirks.

“You really don’t see yourself as an outsider,” Su Jingqiu said.

“We’re family. No need to speak two different languages,” she replied, echoing a phrase often repeated by Nie Rushuang. She wasn’t blind to decency or propriety—she understood everything—but simply didn’t invest much emotion in it. Why waste energy on petty grievances when sleeping soundly was so much better?

Su Jingqiu, seeing her not respond to his teasing and genuinely hungry, got up and headed to the kitchen. He guessed the half-prepared foods in her fridge were leftovers from yesterday, so whipping up something quick was no problem.

Passing by Si Mingming, he smelled the stench of smoke and alcohol on him. She sniffed, frowned, and wanted to say something, but held back. Si Mingming was clever and strategic; she rarely protested openly but always managed to turn situations to her advantage. Su Jingqiu realized this only after some time.

He fried the half-prepared pancakes from her fridge, cracked eggs, warmed two glasses of milk, and made a simple breakfast. He’d drunk quite a bit last night, but the liquor seemed fake—it never got him drunk. Taking a taxi here for only the second time, he already felt familiar with the route.

One thing Su Jingqiu had to admit: though they both thought this marriage was meaningless, having the marriage certificate made him feel that, no matter how strange this woman was, she was half one of his own. Su Jingqiu was loyal to his own people. He carried a strong, almost romanticized sense of camaraderie—not the crude brotherhood kind, but a passionate, naive desire to help others wholeheartedly. Everyone at his restaurant and bar liked him, often saying, “Though Boss Su’s wages aren’t high, he always makes sure we get some meat.”

Gradually, his feelings toward Si Mingming mirrored this attitude: “Though I don’t really like this woman, with this certificate in hand, she’s family.”

After eating, they got into Si Mingming’s old, broken car. Su Jingqiu wasn’t stupid; the chilly air at her place was no sign of her loving health or avoiding air conditioning. It was simply that her car’s AC was broken. Nearly heat-stroked and irritable, he rolled down the window and said, “Can you fix your damn broken AC?”

Si Mingming didn’t get angry or feel embarrassed. Instead, she chuckled softly.

She truly was unbothered by anything! Su Jingqiu realized this, looked out the window, fully resistant.

Si Mingming understood him. She always stared out of the window when riding in strangers’ cars, as if it made things easier. Often, she felt that human nature was fundamentally solitary. Solitude was not always sorrowful; sometimes it brought freedom.

The car radio was still telling bizarre stories. Today’s tale was about a woman who married a man, only to find out afterward she had no vagina... During the long daily traffic jams, she used these strange stories to mentally prepare herself: “Nothing I encounter at work today will be stranger than this.” She was truly a peculiar person.

Su Jingqiu frowned and couldn’t help but turn off the radio.

Si Mingming promptly turned it back on. She needed to hear the whole story because she had no idea what twists and turns today would bring—she needed psychological preparation.

Su Jingqiu turned it off again.

Si Mingming turned it back on.

This cycle repeated.

Neither was doing it on purpose; she just wanted to listen, and he disliked it. The story played in fits and starts. To finish it, Si Mingming braked sharply, stopping the car by the roadside, and asked Su Jingqiu to get out. He stood under a tree listening to the cicadas, while she stayed in the car until the story ended, then he got back in, and they continued.

Not once did they fight. Not once.

By the time they arrived, Wang Qingfang had prepared a table full of delicious dishes. Wang Qingfang was particular about appearances and often said, “No matter how much you dislike someone, don’t slap them in the face openly.”

She rose to greet Si Mingming, who, though not stunning, had a pleasant and refined look—what one might call a quietly attractive type. She spoke clearly and looked people straight in the eye—a formidable character. Wang Qingfang thought perhaps only someone so formidable could keep her unruly son in line.

Si Mingming judged Wang Qingfang to be a straightforward, possibly hot-tempered woman. That was good; such people were not hard to get along with but required one to endure occasional sudden displeasure. That, however, was a story for later.

Si Mingming had a strange personality, but due to her work, she navigated such occasions with ease. After a few rounds of conversation, Wang Qingfang nodded frequently: “Not bad, not bad. She’s perceptive.”

Su Jingqiu was also surprised. He expected her to be timid or quiet, making the dinner awkward, but she handled it well. Now he understood why her two million annual salary wasn’t a gift from heaven but the result of exceptional skill.

He sat watching the two women interact: Wang Qingfang unusually courteous, Si Mingming unusually humble. Wang Qingfang’s intent was clear; in a few words, she had learned all about Si Mingming’s family. She knew Si Mingming’s mother was a “woman of the world,” while her father was a pushover. Their family was indeed slightly poorer than hers, but that didn’t matter. Wang Qingfang cared little for wealth; she judged people by whether they looked pleasant and whether they were easy to get along with. So far, Si Mingming was not troublesome; the rest was to be seen.

Having enjoyed the lively scene, Su Jingqiu prepared to leave. Suddenly, Wang Qingfang asked, “How much did you drink yesterday?”

“Didn’t drink.”

“Bullshit.”

“Stop with the bullshit, be civilized,” Su Jingqiu said, stepping forward to pat Si Mingming on the back and leading her out.

Outside his building, Si Mingming looked at him and said slowly, “We agreed—if you drink, sleep in the hallway.”

“Who said that?” Su Jingqiu asked.

“Now.”

Su Jingqiu’s anger faded. With his hands in his pockets, ready to argue properly, he looked down and asked, “Who said we’d live together?”

His hand, deep in his pocket, stretched the fabric of his shorts, revealing an unmistakable shape inside. Si Mingming hadn’t meant to look, but she saw it. For a moment, she recalled Lu Manman’s words about a “really good thing” and felt dizzy.

Sensing something wrong, Su Jingqiu pulled his hand out and stepped back, glancing down. He was still thinking about how to scold Si Mingming, but she had already moved on to the next round.

“We’re married, of course we have to live together,” Si Mingming said firmly. “If we don’t live together, what’s the point of marriage?”

She wanted to experience marriage, to taste this fresh new life with all its flavors—sweet, sour, bitter, and spicy—a life full of fun. She certainly wouldn’t allow anyone to back out, nor let anyone leave entirely without her permission.

“I think my place might be a bit small for you, probably a bit unfair,” she said. “Pick a good date, and I’ll move into your place. Then we can officially start living together. How about that?” She put on her sunglasses and turned her face dark as night. Su Jingqiu couldn’t read her expression or tell if she was joking or serious, but he definitely felt her challenge.

“Dream on!” Su Jingqiu snapped angrily and turned away.