Rekindling Lost Love (GL) - Chapter 4

Because she had napped for nearly half the day, the latter half of the night became particularly difficult to endure. Her body already felt exhausted, but her nerves remained taut and restless, and sleep stubbornly refused to come.

Ji Cen’an did not dwell on those messy, trivial thoughts. She had no time to care about how anyone else was living. She herself was already a hopeless heap of mud that could not be propped against a wall. Where would she find the energy to cling to someone from her past?

Perhaps it was because of the nightmare that afternoon. Or perhaps, having returned only about a week ago, the three years she had spent wandering through an unstable life had left her incapable of adjusting to this old city from her memories. As a result, something insignificant had once again disturbed the fragile calm.

The past was a crumpled sheet of white paper. After being weathered by countless days, it had gradually yellowed beneath the erosion of time. The marks could neither be erased nor made to disappear.

Reality was the same. Nothing could be changed, and life could only continue moving forward.

After an unknown amount of time, Ji Cen’an rolled onto her side and turned to face the window covered in corroded rust.

A tall wall stood across from it, preventing the watery moonlight from entering. There was no road ahead and no way home behind her.

The next day was sunny, and the heat remained oppressive.

The urban village came alive before the sky had even brightened. Most of the factories began working at full force shortly after six, their electrically powered machinery humming so loudly that the noise could be heard from far away.

It was only a small processing factory, yet it somehow operated with all the grandeur of a Fortune 500 corporation. Capitalists never stopped squeezing blood and sweat from their workers. If conditions had allowed it and the machines had not needed time to cool down, the factory across the street probably would have started running in the middle of the night.

Ji Cen’an was forced to get out of bed at seven. It was genuinely impossible to keep sleeping, so she took advantage of the early hour to prepare something to eat.

There was hardly any food in the rented room: half a bag of loose rice, a handful of dried noodles, and a bunch of wilted vegetables that had already lost most of their moisture.

The weather was hot, and without air-conditioning, anything left for a single day ended up like this.

There were only two pots by the stove, along with a wooden cutting board of indeterminate age and half a bag of coarse salt meant for pickling vegetables. The rice and kitchen utensils had been generously left behind by the previous tenant. The landlord had intended to throw them away when he first brought Ji Cen’an here, but she had not minded and had asked to keep everything. She could continue making do with them and avoid wasting money on replacements.

Ji Cen’an had barely cooked over the last several days anyway. It was inconvenient and not particularly economical. Most of the time, she simply boiled a bowl of dried noodles and called it a meal. Once she grew tired of noodles, she would make congee or something similar instead.

She did not even need a kitchen knife. She could simply wash the vegetables and break them apart with her hands, tearing them into smaller pieces if necessary.

She had not purchased anything that was not absolutely essential and refused to even consider doing so.

It was not that she did not know how to manage a household. The main problem was that her pockets were nearly empty. She hardly had a few coins to spare. If she bought all those things, she would have nothing left and would be living on air. It was better to spend the little more than one thousand yuan she had remaining only where it truly mattered.

After all, she did not know how long she would remain in the city. She might need to leave half a month from now, or she might have to wait several days longer.

She would not necessarily be able to take those utensils with her when she left. Buying them would only be a waste.

Furthermore, even if she managed to locate the intermediary soon and uncover the movements of her elder brother and the others, considerable effort would still be required afterward. Everything cost money, and what she had now was certainly insufficient. She needed to plan much farther ahead.

Taking a taxi last night had been unavoidable. It had been too late, the buses had stopped running, and the subway had already closed. The distance had been almost twenty kilometers. Without a taxi, walking across the city would have taken four or five hours. By the time she returned safely, she would have been completely exhausted.

Sixty yuan had gone toward the fare, wiping out at least a week’s food expenses.

Without the slightest change in expression, Ji Cen’an stirred the bubbling water with her chopsticks. She removed the cooked vegetable leaves first while silently considering her plans.

There probably would not be any progress from Uncle Yang in the short term. She would need to think of another method and see whether she could locate some other useful connections.

Moreover, hiding was only a temporary solution. She had no idea how long she could remain concealed. If she stayed in the city for an extended period, the people pursuing her would discover her trail sooner or later. She probably could not keep it secret forever. One day, they would inevitably find their way here.

Entering the city this time was an all-or-nothing gamble. She had been forced to make a dangerous move.

Ji Cen’an had no choice. She had been gone for too long. She could hide temporarily, but not for the rest of her life. If certain problems remained unresolved, she feared she would spend the latter half of her life wandering from place to place, unable to live like a normal person until the day she was buried.

Far too many people had been harmed by the Ji family. Countless victims hated every member of that family so fiercely that even a hundred deaths would not be enough to appease them.

That was especially true of those who had suffered catastrophic losses and nearly gone bankrupt alongside the Ji family, yet had ultimately gritted their teeth and survived through sheer determination. If those people discovered that she had returned, there was no telling what they might secretly do to her.

That was also why Ji Cen’an had fled in the first place. Legally speaking, she had committed no crime and had nothing to do with what had happened. But why would the powerful, aggrieved business owners care? They had pursued her as though they wanted to skin her, tear apart her bones, and devour her flesh.

Everyone involved in that maelstrom had wanted to use Ji Cen’an as their starting point. They intended to force her to reveal the whereabouts of her elder brother and the other Ji family members and demanded that she repay their debts. Some even wanted her dead, believing that cutting her to pieces would still not relieve their resentment.

She had been powerless to protect herself and could not contend with such vicious people. Thus, she had also broken free, fled, and hidden from place to place.

Ever since leaving Z City, Ji Cen’an had abandoned everything she once possessed and taken nothing with her. She had not even dared to use her real identity information, afraid that someone might track her down.

When she left, she had carried only ten thousand yuan, having had no time to prepare. She initially went to a remote rural area and lived under an assumed identity. Two months later, she moved elsewhere. She had remained constantly on the move ever since, never daring to stay long in any town or city.

To avoid exposing her whereabouts, she never rented through particularly formal arrangements. Anything involving the signing of a contract was avoided without exception.

Buying tickets with her identity information was even more out of the question. She always found another way, either taking unlicensed private vehicles or using some other route.

Those first days had been extremely difficult. The ten thousand yuan did not last very long, and there was a period when she truly struggled to make ends meet. Aside from forcing herself to take temporary jobs, she had no suitable way out.

Some temporary jobs did not require contracts and paid at the end of each day, but the work was brutal. Even after working an entire day, she might not earn one hundred yuan. Doing the work only to be cheated out of her wages was also common. In small towns or rural areas, the pay was even lower—usually only a few dozen yuan.

Ji Cen’an could only take things one step at a time. Her situation was practically equivalent to balancing on a tightrope: she could neither advance nor retreat, while a bottomless abyss waited below. One misstep would leave her shattered beyond recognition.

The scar across her back was a constant warning—a souvenir left behind after she had been rescued from that “accident.”

After another two or three minutes, the noodles were cooked.

Ji Cen’an used her chopsticks to transfer all of them into a bowl. She added a little salt for seasoning, stirred a few times, and began eating.

After filling her stomach, she hand-washed the clothes she had changed out of yesterday and hung them up to dry. Only then did she open the envelope.

It contained two things: photographic evidence from Uncle Yang’s investigation and more than five thousand yuan.

The former was what Ji Cen’an needed. The latter was financial help Uncle Yang had secretly slipped inside.

Knowing that she was struggling and would certainly refuse if he gave her the money in person, the old man had not been able to bear doing nothing. Instead, he had tucked it among the evidence.

Ji Cen’an had not opened the envelope yesterday and only now discovered it. After giving the money a cursory glance, she casually stuffed it back inside.

She intended to return it to Uncle Yang when the opportunity arose. She had no plans to accept it.

The old man had an entire family depending on him, and his chronically ill wife’s medication alone cost several thousand yuan every month. How could he possibly afford such generosity?

No matter how miserable Ji Cen’an’s circumstances were, she had not yet fallen so far that she needed to take his money.

She was neither sick nor in pain. As long as she did not starve to death, she would be fine. Her circumstances were still slightly better than those of an elderly man. At the very least, she was young and still had many years left to live.

·

Since she would be staying for quite some time, she could not simply sit around until her money ran out. At dusk, Ji Cen’an tidied herself up and went out to earn a living.

Two days earlier, she had found a job doing odd tasks at a small bar whose environment resembled a junkyard.

It was another temporary position. She worked seven hours a night for ten yuan an hour, received her wages at the end of each shift, and had no contract.

The small bar had recently been short-staffed and could not find a suitable person to handle the miscellaneous work. It had always relied on temporary workers for that position.

After all, no one wanted a job that paid only a little over three thousand yuan a month without meals or accommodation. Anyone with even a trace of ambition would refuse to be exploited so badly. Most people could not endure it.

The small bar was located on Taifeng Road, five bus stops from Tongzi Alley and near a vocational college. It sold nothing but low-quality alcoholic drinks and beverages. Business was decent, but the profits were meager.

Including the owner, the bar had only four people working there. Aside from Ji Cen’an, there was a so-called bartender and a young waitress who served drinks.

The bar was so shabby that it could not even afford a respectable resident singer or band. Every night, the owner personally went onstage to energize the crowd. Only during festivals would he hire a few inexpensive students to perform and warm up the venue.

The people who drank there were also a collection of penniless fools. Some were melodramatic, brainless students, while others were ignorant street delinquents—a typical crowd of morons.

Ji Cen’an arrived precisely on time. There were still more than ten minutes before the bar officially opened.

The miserly owner was already muttering complaints, dissatisfied that she had arrived so late.

Ji Cen’an ignored him completely. She turned into the back room and put on an apron, cap, and mask, calculating the time as she prepared to work.

The bartender was also inside, leaning against the wall and smoking. When someone entered, he remained unmoved, acting as though he had seen nothing. Only after finishing his cigarette did he toss out a remark without bothering to address her by name.

“You’ll help take orders outside later. A-Chong took the day off.”

A-Chong was the young waitress.

That work was not part of Ji Cen’an’s responsibilities, so she did not answer. She continued with the task in front of her, focusing only on washing glasses and handling other miscellaneous chores.

The bartender’s name was Chen Qirui. He had a fairly attractive face and could be considered somewhat handsome, but his character left much to be desired. He had an explosive temper and became extremely violent whenever he fought.

Seeing Ji Cen’an’s indifferent refusal to respond, Chen Qirui understood what she meant and continued, “The boss will pay extra. You’ll get another hundred yuan after you finish.”

Ji Cen’an accepted the condition. Straightening the hem of her clothes, she answered, “All right.”

Chen Qirui raised an eyebrow and gave her a meaningful look. A moment later, he scoffed softly.

On one hand, he disliked how she would only cooperate when money was involved. On the other, he thought she acted far too aloof and was insufficiently approachable. He looked down on her somewhat, though he did not offer any further opinion.

Ji Cen’an remained unaffected. Carrying a stack of empty glasses, she turned sideways and walked around him, unwilling to communicate any further.

“Some dumbass came here looking for trouble yesterday. We almost had a fight. Be careful when you go outside tonight,” Chen Qirui added in warning.

The bar was plagued by all kinds of ridiculous problems every day. Its patrons were a thoroughly mixed crowd, and troublemaking lunatics appeared every few days. Someone was always trying to arrange a fight there.

Fighting was obviously forbidden. It violated the establishment’s rules, and the owner would never approve. But with an endless stream of unhinged people appearing, they sometimes could not stop it. The bar could only swallow its frustration and accept the consequences.

Ji Cen’an had not worked last night and had missed the spectacle of “two men fighting over one woman and nearly smashing beer bottles over each other’s heads.” Chen Qirui was merely informing her so that she would keep a closer watch on the delinquents outside. He was worried an incident would disrupt business.

“Fine.”

Ji Cen’an acknowledged the warning without dwelling on it, her answer brisk and straightforward.

She was being paid to work, after all. She would get through one night at a time. Once the money was in her hands, nothing else mattered.

The bar opened promptly at eight and usually closed at two in the morning.

Tonight was relatively peaceful. Until midnight, things were considerably calmer than yesterday. No troublemakers entered. Most of the customers were students from the nearby vocational college who had come to join the fun. They could order a single drink and nurse it until the bar closed.

Ji Cen’an worked both inside and outside. At first, she helped keep watch, but after midnight, she stopped caring. Once her shift ended, she intended to collect her pay and leave.

Chen Qirui also began to relax.

“Looks like nothing’s going to happen tonight.”

But contrary to his hopes, trouble erupted at around one in the morning.

The two bastards who had failed to finish their fight last night returned to settle it here. The moment they entered, they grabbed beer bottles and started acting like two-bit gangsters. Their ferocity rivaled Chan Ho-nam hacking his way from Causeway Bay to Tsim Sha Tsui.

One of the fighters, a scrawny student, had his head split open. Blood appeared on the spot, prompting both the police and school faculty to mobilize and rush over in successive groups.

The bar was wrecked. Chen Qirui became so furious that he nearly charged over and killed them himself, but fortunately, the owner held him back.

Ji Cen’an did not involve herself. She stood in a corner, waiting for the problem to be resolved so that she could collect her wages.

It had nothing to do with her. It was not her turn to interfere.

She went outside the bar to wait, avoiding the police officers who had arrived first.

The school’s teachers arrived later, several of them hurrying over together.

Assuming they were from the nearby vocational college, Ji Cen’an paid little attention. She helped herself to one of Chen Qirui’s cigarettes and stood by the roadside, holding it between her fingers and smoking as she waited.

She had guessed wrong.

The teachers who arrived were not from the vocational college but from the University of Science and Technology.

More importantly, they were none other than Xu Xingjian and Nan Jia.

Ji Cen’an had been completely unprepared. Her red lips held the cigarette as she drew a shallow breath. The agile tip of her tongue pressed against her teeth and curled slightly. Her eyes narrowed—and in the next instant, she saw those familiar figures stepping out of the car.