Fourteenth Blood Orange

For the poor, sorrow is a luxury—it can only exist in the fleeting yesterday.

Liao Xue walked out of the shantytown with her head held high, only to return in utter disgrace.

The village was a melting pot of all sorts. Dragging her suitcase, Liao Xue followed a man with a ring of keys at his waist, bending low to dodge clothes strung between two windows overhead, still dripping wet. She had to watch her step as she climbed to the second floor.

The door was a yellowish, indeterminate green, secured with a padlock. The man unlocked it, chewing something like gum, his voice sticky and slow: "This is the last single room. Five hundred a month, utilities on you. That's a fair price—can't go lower."

The moment the door swung open, a wave of unpleasant smells hit Liao Xue like a punch.

How long had it been since she'd left this muck?

She lowered her head. Now she was back, as if this filth suited her best.

She had no savings—just enough for the rent here. She nodded. "Fine."

The man handed her a key, thick with grime. She clutched it tight in her palm.

"One month's deposit, three months' rent upfront. Let's sign the contract now."

After signing, Liao Xue stripped the yellowed bedding, cleaned every corner, and made a trip to the supermarket for necessities.

Looking at the shabby but now spotless room, she sat on a plastic stool, wiping sweat and catching her breath.

She'd eat out for lunch—being unemployed, she deserved a little comfort.

After the meal, she'd stock up on pots and pans. The gas stove was broken, the electric pot was broken, and the bowls and chopsticks were beyond saving—all needed replacing.

She found a random Yunnan rice noodle joint, ate, then headed back with her head down, mentally job hunting, when she nearly walked into someone.

"Excuse me, are you Miss Liao Xue?"

The sun above was warm, rare for winter. Liao Xue wore a thick, long down coat, its cuffs a bit dirty.

She looked up in disbelief at the stranger—an unfamiliar face, someone she was certain she'd never met.

But he'd said her name without a hitch.

Liao Xue hesitated. "Hi... what do you want with her?"

The man smiled kindly. "You are Miss Liao Xue, right? I've heard of your cooking and wanted to hire you as my live-in cook. Just lunch and dinner. We can negotiate the pay."

He smiled earnestly, awaiting her answer.

But Liao Xue was thinking: where did she fill out a survey that led this con man to find her, call her by name, and expect her to walk right into his trap?

Did she look that gullible?

Ignoring him, she turned to leave.

"Miss Liao Xue!" he called after her. "I'm really not a con man. I'm just too busy with work to cook."

Liao Xue thought: someone too busy to cook doesn't stop a young woman on the street to cook for him.

He persisted. "Miss Liao Xue, my wife has stomach cancer and is in the hospital. I heard you're amazing at medicinal meals. I begged many people to find you..."

Liao Xue stopped, her gaze sharp, as if trying to see through him. "Let's talk somewhere."

The shantytown had no cafés or fancy spots, so she led him to a milk tea shop frequented by delinquent students and ordered two of the house specials.

"My name is Liu Chengzhi," he began. "My wife was diagnosed with stomach cancer six months ago and is now in the hospital. With this disease, there's no real certainty of a cure. Seeing her suffer—she used to love food, all kinds of delicacies—I wanted to ask if you could cook for her every day, so she can enjoy her final days happily."

He reasoned and appealed to her emotions.

Liao Xue had no reason to refuse. She was indeed known for her medicinal dishes and had won awards in competitions.

"Alright, I'll do it."

Tears glistened at the corners of Liu Chengzhi's eyes as he grabbed her hand excitedly. "Thank you so much, Miss Liao Xue. I'll cover the ingredients and the kitchen. Let me take you to the house right away."

Liao Xue felt a prickle of unease. In such a hurry?

The upscale neighborhood was different—lush greenery and impressive landscaping. Liu Chengzhi drove past the gate, and the open view was pleasant.

He parked at the building. Liao Xue got out and looked up at the gray-walled structure, its top lost in the sky.

She'd seen the Shen family's red-brick scenery, so this only earned a brief raise of her brows before she followed Liu Chengzhi upstairs.

He kept talking. "My wife needs constant care, so I mostly stay at the hospital. You can cook in the house worry-free; I won't disturb you at all."

Liao Xue glanced around, slipped on the slippers inside, and entered.

Once she saw the décor, she froze.

The leather sofa still had its plastic wrap, the coffee table gleamed like new, and the air reeked of fresh formaldehyde.

This place looked untouched, like the model apartment she'd once slept in when she first arrived in Tang City.

Hiding her suspicion, Liao Xue said a quick word to Liu Chengzhi and headed to the kitchen.

It was fully Western-style. Her hand brushed the marble countertop; the pots and pans were all brand new, tags still attached.

She took stock: fully stocked, both Chinese and Western utensils.

Liu Chengzhi, oddly stiff in his own home, clasped his hands over his slight belly and said, "It's an honor to have you. I heard you're particular about utensils, so I took the liberty of buying new ones just for you."

Liao Xue nodded, feeling it was like protesting too much.

She had no right or desire to see the bedrooms and other rooms, so she pressed her lips and said, "The kitchen's fine. I'll cook and deliver to the hospital."

Liu Chengzhi quickly cut in. "No..."

Liao Xue lifted her eyes, suspicion clear, fixing on him. He scratched the back of his head, face turning red. "My wife is a bit sensitive. She doesn't like seeing other women around me. Don't laugh."

Liao Xue nodded in understanding. "Fine. Lunch at noon, dinner at six. You come pick them up, okay?"

He agreed, and they signed a contract. Liao Xue received a generous deposit and took the bus home.

Liu Chengzhi photographed the contract and sent it off. A phone call came almost instantly.

"That little money? Will it even cover groceries? Tomorrow I want..."

Even over the phone, Liu Chengzhi felt his knees go weak. He replied meekly, "Yes, yes, I'll take care of it all."

The next morning, Liao Xue arrived early at the neighborhood gate. The guard wouldn't let her in without a resident card, so she called Liu Chengzhi to come get her.

She carried two large bags of vegetables, hair tied in a ponytail, wearing a crisp white shirt—like a white camellia swaying in the wind.

The kindly elderly guard let her wait in the booth, and soon Liu Chengzhi walked over from outside.

Liao Xue thanked the guard and, amid their polite tussling, left a bag of oranges before following Liu Chengzhi upstairs.

Liu Chengzhi looked weary and sleepy, embarrassed. "I stayed at the hospital with my wife all night... I don't usually stay here. Why don't I just give you the key and access card? You can let yourself in and cook..."

Liao Xue waved her hands. "No, no, I can't. This is your home..."

"It's fine, this isn't my home," Liu Chengzhi said, turning the handle, then paused. "A family is only a home when everyone is healthy and living together. Now..."

Sensing she'd touched a nerve, Liao Xue pressed her lips and offered, "Everything will get better."

And I will too, she thought.

Having made Liu Chengzhi run an extra trip, Liao Xue tied on an apron, made a simple medicinal porridge for him to take to the hospital, and started on lunch.

It simmered over a low flame, fragrant steam curling in the small kitchen.

Liao Xue leaned against the counter, her straight back arched, catching the sunlight from the window. Her finely sculpted face seemed to turn the kitchen into a palace.

In the VVIP ward of the private hospital, white lilies bloomed in a crystal vase, hiding a rosy-cheeked face behind them.

Liu Chengzhi stood stiffly to the side, holding a large insulated bag.

Shen Qiancheng nearly jumped out of bed but remembered her status and said with restraint, "I'm starving, your lady boss is dying of hunger! Set it out quickly."

God knew how long she'd craved Liao Xue's cooking.

She'd missed out on the spicy rabbit head last time and had been repenting in her hospital bed ever since—how could she have given up Liao Xue's rabbit head!

Liu Chengzhi laid out the dishes neatly on the table. He'd been delivering for half a month, and every time, Shen Qiancheng went at it like a starving ghost, scarfing it all down.

When Su Tongqin pushed open the door, she saw Shen Qiancheng wolfing down her meal, not a trace of her usual aristocratic elegance.

"Don't you get tired of this trick?" Su Tongqin said, sliding into a chair by the bed, hands in her pockets, an ominous look on her face.

"Tired or not, what matters is it works." Shen Qiancheng's phoenix eyes, set in her small, oval face, stayed fixed on the tempting, fragrant food before her. She had no energy to argue now.

Su Tongqin wore a long black coat and dark blue designer jeans that hugged her long, beautifully shaped legs. She crossed them as she sat on the sofa, cigarette in hand.

"You're being discharged tomorrow, right?"

Shen Qiancheng savored the last bite, elegantly wiped her mouth with a wet wipe, and squinted in satisfaction. "You're a real friend, poking right at my sore spot!"

Su Tongqin blew out a puff of smoke. "My family and yours are in chaos, and here you are living large with food and drink. I don't feel good about that."

Shen Qiancheng waved her hand and picked up her tablet. "Alright, alright, I'm out tomorrow. Tonight I'll have one more meal... Just one, stop nagging."

Su Tongqin seized any chance to mock her. "This is your doing. Why couldn't you just let her stay as a housemaid in the Shen family? No, you had to do this, and now everyone's unhappy."

She stubbed out her cigarette in Shen Qiancheng's thermos, making her yelp.

"What are you doing!"

"Shen, it really is you."

At the alarmingly familiar voice, Shen Qiancheng whipped around faster than Su Tongqin. Standing in the doorway was Liao Xue, her face as pale as paper, gripping the door handle tightly.

Shen Qiancheng thought: Isn't this a private hospital? How did Liao Xue get in?