Chapter 4

Zhong Yiheng was still busy.

Occasionally he sent a message asking what I’d been doing.

A workaholic, all right.

I had to fob him off. “Looking at shop locations. I’m thinking of starting a little business.”

He pressed further. “Any brands you’re interested in? I can take a look for you.”

I made something up. “A scallion-and-meat-pie franchise called Home Comes First.”

Zhong Yiheng must have looked it up.

Over half an hour passed.

Then he came back.

He sent an ellipsis.

Followed by: “I understand.”

From that day on,

he stopped by whenever he had time.

When he was too busy, he sent his assistant over with fruit, desserts, and things.

“I know you’ve always longed for a home,” he said. “Your husband’s death was our company’s responsibility.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.”

I knew he’d completely misunderstood.

But I didn’t want to explain.

Every day, he sent someone over with things for me.

He took me out to eat, too.

Remembering he’d said his sister was about my age, I figured he’d appointed himself my big brother.

That was fine by me.

I’d spent my whole life being the big sister.

All I’d ever heard was, “Give way to your brothers. Look after your brothers.”

Now I finally got to be the little sister.

Life was so comfortable that I fell asleep smiling every night.

I remembered what Mom had said that evening.

“Once a woman gets married and has a warm, living man at home, even the hardest life will gradually get better.”

Now I really did think she had a point.

Forget warm and living.

Even a stone-cold, thoroughly dead man

could improve your life.

That afternoon, Zhong Yiheng picked me up for another meal.

Lights and decorations lined the street.

It wasn’t until a little girl approached us selling roses

that I realized.

It was Valentine’s Day.

She looked at me timidly, her face purple with cold.

She reminded me of myself ten years ago.

Near New Year, with heavy snow falling in the village,

my brothers would stay home roasting corn and setting off firecrackers.

I would carry a basket on my back and walk the long mountain roads with Mom.

We sold things at the market and brought back New Year supplies.

In weather this cold,

parents who loved their child wouldn’t bear to let her freeze like this.

I bought every rose the girl had.

Holding them in my arms,

I walked on with Zhong Yiheng.

Partway there, I noticed he kept looking over at me.

I asked what was wrong.

He took the bouquet from me as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “If they’re for me, you may as well give them to me now. Aren’t your arms tired?”

What?

I hadn’t been planning to give them to him.