chapter 5

chapter 5

Three months later, Zhang Jing appeared again.

She called Cheng Huaiyuan while he was trimming my toenails.

His phone rang again and again, but he only glanced at the caller’s name and did not put down the clippers.

I watched him work carefully, filing each nail smooth, and felt a tangle of emotions.

From our sophomore year onward, Huaiyuan and I had been together for eight years. Almost every time my toenails needed trimming, he had done it for me.

I was embarrassed at first, but he always said he wanted to do it-that the act itself made him feel especially close to me.

Only after he had finished every nail did he pick up his phone and type a brief reply.

Then he handed me the screen.

I saw their exchange in the WeChat window.

She had sent a string of emojis with her message: Have you been busy lately? (hopeful) I heard the prayer beads from Yonghe Temple are very powerful, and I’m planning to go ask for a bracelet. (hopeful) If you’re free, let me treat you to dinner on Wudaoying Hutong. We never got to eat together last time. (three grinning faces)

His reply was curt: Busy. No time. Sorry.

The other side fell silent. The words “The other person is typing…” appeared and vanished over and over at the top of the chat.

At last Zhang Jing replied: Did your girlfriend misunderstand something? I can explain it to her.

Huaiyuan seemed not to know how to answer. He looked at me, then the phone, and finally turned off the screen and tossed it aside.

His reaction infuriated me. I snatched up the phone and started a voice call.

Zhang Jing answered almost immediately. Not knowing it was me, she said hello with a mixture of excitement and studied restraint.

I had no patience for games. I went straight to the point. “I only asked him to choose, and he chose me. Zhang Jing, nothing matters more than living your own life well.”

The call ended with a click.

Huaiyuan had not expected me to be so direct. He opened his mouth, but in the end said nothing.

I was furious with him. To avoid a screaming match, I claimed I had to go on rounds and left our home. I even volunteered to trade shifts with a colleague and stayed at the hospital overnight.

The following day, after I had worked for an entire day and night, Zhang Jing came to the hospital.

In front of my colleagues, she sobbed, “Jiang Ran, you already have everything. Why can’t you leave me just four chances a year?”

I found her both pitiful and absurd.

“In what role, and with what right, are you asking me that?” I said coldly.

She had no answer. Before long, she wandered away like a woman who had lost her soul.