Chapter Forty-Four: Joined Hands

"It's nothing," Zhang Ye shook his head, glancing at Wang Mengzi again. Suddenly, he was a bit apprehensive. "Aunt Wang, may I hold your hand?" The moment the words left his mouth, Zhang Ye's heart pounded wildly, his nerves wound tight.

Wang Mengzi looked at him in silence, saying nothing.

Seeing this, Zhang Ye's heart thumped even faster. "Does her silence mean consent?" he wondered, nervous. Hesitantly, he reached out, gently took Wang Mengzi’s hand from where she held it, threaded his fingers through hers, and grasped it firmly.

Her hand was cool to the touch. Instinctively, Zhang Ye tightened his grip, quietly savoring the unfamiliar emotions surging within him. Their hands swayed slightly as they walked, making Zhang Ye's heart flutter along with them.

He had no idea how Wang Mengzi felt, but he himself was both anxious and elated, a long-harbored wish finally fulfilled. In his previous life, he had nursed an affection for Wang Mengzi, but for various reasons, nothing had ever come of it. Now, though it was just a hand held, the possibility of something more became real, and excitement surged through him.

Lost in this haze, the two soon found themselves at the doorstep of their homes. Only then did Wang Mengzi seem to realize something; she drew her hand away, her face expressionless. "We’re home. Let me go in with you and explain things to your parents," she said.

Zhang Ye looked down at his hand, a little disappointed. Then, Wang Mengzi’s words caught him off guard. "Explain? Explain what?" he asked, momentarily startled. Could she mean their relationship? At the thought, his heart began to race again, his blood quickening.

He couldn't help but look forward to it.

"Look at you, all battered and bruised," Wang Mengzi said, shooting him a glare. "What do you think needs explaining?"

Only then did it dawn on Zhang Ye that he was still injured. All the happiness from holding her hand had swept everything else from his mind. Embarrassed, he flushed and nodded quickly, realizing his thoughts had wandered far off course.

His father, Zhang Haiguan, was a teacher—strict in discipline, though not often harsh in words. When he was angry, he could indeed be frightening. Fighting was never something a good child should do. If he couldn’t give a good reason, the willow branches were lush outside; a couple snapped off for a beating hurt far more than any fist.

But when his parents saw his injured state, the storm he anticipated never came. Instead, his mother, Liu Meiju, fussed over him with concern, her heartfelt worry warming Zhang Ye's heart. Silently, he resolved not to make his parents worry in the future.

At first, Zhang Haiguan wore a stern expression, and if not for Liu Meiju holding him back, a scolding would have been inevitable. Fortunately, Wang Mengzi explained in time, saying the fight had happened in the course of saving someone. Only then did his father’s demeanor soften. After a few more questions to confirm the story, he offered a mild reproach and turned back into the house.

Of course, Wang Mengzi had glossed over certain details, such as what had happened in the police car or the interrogation room. She knew better than to mention those, for it would only add to their worries. Sometimes, it’s best to keep such things to oneself.

A little while later, Zhang Haiguan came out of the room with some medicinal wine for bruises, calling Zhang Ye over to apply it. Though he’d already been treated, Zhang Ye obediently stood, letting his father dab and pat the medicine on. He hissed in pain, putting on a good show of suffering.

At that point, Wang Mengzi took her leave, but Liu Meiju hurried to stop her. Their families were close, and Wang Mengzi often came by for meals, since she lived alone. But now, with the unspoken tension between her and Zhang Ye, she felt awkward and insisted she had business elsewhere before finally slipping away.

"How polite Little Wang has become lately," Liu Meiju muttered as she turned to make dinner. With Zhang Ye hurt, she wouldn’t dream of letting him help.

During the meal, Liu Meiju suddenly sighed and set down her chopsticks.

Thinking she was worried about him, Zhang Ye quickly said, "Mom, I’m fine. What’s with the sigh?"

"Who’s worried about you? Just eat," she chided, but her mind was clearly elsewhere.

Zhang Haiguan noticed as well. "What’s wrong? You haven’t looked right since you got home. Is something up at work?" With the summer holidays underway, he was at leisure, and the family depended on Liu Meiju’s income from her accounting job.

"The company isn’t doing well," Liu Meiju replied. "It’s on the verge of bankruptcy and there are rumors of layoffs. I’m not too worried about myself, but what about Xiao Hui’s family? If she loses her job, what will they do?"

Liu Meiju’s colleague, Xiao Hui—whose full name was Li Xiaohui—was someone Zhang Ye had met before. She was a beautiful woman, a few years younger than Liu Meiju. Her family had once been well-off: her husband was a freight driver who had earned good money. But fortune waxes and wanes. One rainy night, the mountain roads were treacherous and, in a single misstep, her husband’s truck plunged over a cliff. Not only was the cargo lost, but her husband died as well.

To make matters worse, the passenger seat had been occupied by the deputy director of a brewery, who also perished in the accident. Compensation was inevitable. According to the deputy director’s family, he was a man of great promise, destined for wealth and success, so they demanded three hundred thousand in compensation.

Three hundred thousand—what a staggering sum that was at the time! Though Li Xiaohui’s family was relatively well-off, they could never raise such an amount. After more than two weeks of wrangling, the parties settled on one hundred thousand. After the funeral, Li Xiaohui’s family was left with almost nothing. They were forced to sell their house and car, borrowing several thousand more from relatives to cover the rest.

Stripped of all but the bare essentials, Li Xiaohui was left to rent a place and raise her five-year-old daughter alone. Now, five years had gone by. Though she’d managed to pay back some of her debts, her daughter was reaching school age. If she lost her job, it would be a catastrophe.

"What good does worrying do? It’s not like you can decide what the bosses do," Zhang Haiguan said softly, but he too fell silent.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care, but their own family wasn’t wealthy. Liu Meiju’s modest salary kept things afloat, and the company subsidies were a great help. If she lost her job, they would feel it keenly.

They all knew it was a job they couldn’t afford to lose.

Zhang Ye ate in silence, frowning. Sensing the heavy mood, he spoke up to comfort them. "It hasn’t happened yet. Maybe it’s just a rumor. Don’t worry. And even if you do leave, it won’t be the end of the world."

He remembered the company layoffs well. His mother hadn’t been on the original list, but as he recalled, she’d switched places with someone else—most likely Li Xiaohui.

As far as he remembered, after Liu Meiju left the company, she quickly set up a small shop near the gates of No. 2 Middle School. Though the work was tiring, they earned more and life actually improved. The company itself didn’t last much longer, closing its doors by year’s end. In the end, Li Xiaohui couldn’t escape being laid off, either.