Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The weekend for Qin Song and Huang Yuanrui’s scheduled meeting was fast approaching. Qin Song was lying on his bed, booking his flight tickets.

Just then, Zhang Qiong sent Qin Song a message on WeChat.

“Qin Song, are you free to meet up this weekend?”

Qin Song exited the booking interface and dialed Zhang Qiong’s number.

“Sis, what’s wrong?”

Zhang Qiong’s voice sounded a bit raspy. “He just slapped me.”

Qin Song bolted upright in bed. “He dared to lay a hand on you? What right does he have? Where is he? Oh, where else could he be… at home, right? Wait there, I’m coming over right now to deal with that bastard.”

“Don’t come over. If you hit him again, there will be no way to settle this. Let’s talk in person… Are you free this weekend?”

Qin Song hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I’m free. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the arrangements.”

After hanging up with Zhang Qiong, Qin Song called Huang Yuanrui.

“Ruirui, an emergency meeting came up for an important project this weekend. Can I come see you next week instead?”

Huang Yuanrui shrieked, “Qin Song, what are you trying to do?! I’ve already prepared for you to come this weekend! I’ve been looking forward to this for days, so why aren’t you coming? Why why why why why!”

Huang Yuanrui’s voice was sharp and piercing. Qin Song frowned and held the phone a bit further away.

“Ruirui, can you please calm down? I want to see you too, but plans change.”

Huang Yuanrui yelled into the phone, “Bullshit! Fine, calm! I’m calm!”

With a loud click, she hung up.

Qin Song sighed and called Zhang Qiong back. “Sis, where are you?”

“I’m at the supermarket, buying some millet.”

“I’ll arrange our meeting for the weekend. Let’s have dinner together tonight too, okay? Tell me what happened. I don’t want you going to sleep feeling angry and mistreated.”

***

In a private room at a restaurant, Zhang Qiong, her eyes swollen, recounted the afternoon’s events to Qin Song. Over some trivial matter, her husband had started an argument with her. As they fought, the conversation uncontrollably slid toward that sensitive topic.

“The three of you-between work and school-are never home! I’m the only one stuck in this house all day! Then I get a delivery and it’s makeup, another delivery and it’s a bag, another delivery and it’s a tablet! Where did you get the money for this stuff? Does this fit your spending habits? What exactly are you doing out there all day!”

Zhang Qiong: “Oh, so you realize you’re stuck at home all day? How long has it been since the debt collectors stopped hounding us? Your movements aren’t restricted anymore, so why can’t you find a job? Do you have any idea how exhausted I am from working?”

Zhang Qiong’s husband: “We’re talking about the packages! Why are you bringing up work? Do you have a guilty conscience? I’m talking about the damn packages!”

Zhang Qiong: “Why can’t I bring up work? I work all day long. I’m the one earning everything for this family now. Am I not even allowed to speak?”

Zhang Qiong’s husband: “What are you acting for? You think I don’t know about your pathetic salary? What’s it enough for? Is it enough for you to buy tens of thousands worth of crap in a month? Ask yourself, aren’t you selling yourself out there? It’s a miracle anyone’s willing to buy now that you’re an old, faded flower! If you’re going to do it, own up to it. There’s no one else here, so why act like some virtuous saint with me?”

Zhang Qiong: “You really are a disgusting, useless coward.”

*Slap.* A hand flew across her face, and half of Zhang Qiong’s face quickly became red and swollen.

***

Qin Song tightly gripped Zhang Qiong’s hand. “Sis, it’s all my fault. I really shouldn’t have been so flashy before.”

Zhang Qiong said flatly, “I don’t blame you. Living together in such a tangled mess, friction was bound to happen sooner or later. I anticipated this kind of thing, but I didn’t expect that when the blow actually landed, it would still feel so humiliating.”
“Sis, why don’t you move out?” Qin Song suggested. “Let’s live together.”

Zhang Qiong gave a bitter smile. “I have two children. I can’t stay away from home for long. From the day I became a mother, I’ve been tied down.”

“Then I’ll find a place for you to stay for a couple of days,” Qin Song said. “Just leave that environment for a bit to clear your head.”

“Alright,” Zhang Qiong agreed. “I’ll stay at your hotel for a couple of days. That way, it’ll be easier to see you. I’ll pay you for the room.”

“What are you talking about, paying for the room? Don’t insult me,” Qin Song countered. “I’ll pick the most comfortable room for you. Just stay there and relax.”

After finishing their meal, Qin Song called Hu Heng and told him to get Room 302 ready for Zhang Qiong.

Qin Song had originally intended to arrange even more luxurious accommodations for her, but Zhang Qiong had specifically asked to stay at his hotel.

Room 302 was indeed the most comfortable room in the Tianfeng Hotel-not only was it the largest, but it was also the most beautifully decorated. It was equipped with a massage chair, Bluetooth speakers, a refrigerator, a microwave, and a smart toilet. The bedding was made of real silk, and even the showerhead had been replaced with a special double-filtered model that infused the water with skin-beautifying fragrance.

This had all originally been set up for Huang Yuanrui. However, since she wasn’t in City A at the moment, it wasn’t out of the question for Zhang Qiong to stay there for a couple of days.

Hu Heng arranged for the cleaning staff to pack Huang Yuanrui’s daily necessities and a few pieces of clothing into a large suitcase, which they tucked away in the wardrobe. After a thorough cleaning, Room 302 looked brand new.

Zhang Qiong went home to pack a few things and moved into Room 302 on Saturday morning.

Once she arrived, she finally felt herself begin to relax. Her hectic job and oppressive home life had left her utterly exhausted.

She took a shower under the fragrant spray, applied a simple face mask, and crawled into the fresh silk sheets, hoping for a good night’s sleep.

She drifted into a heavy, groggy slumber that lasted until four or five in the afternoon. During that time, she had a series of fragmented dreams.

In one, her two children were running hand-in-hand down a road, only to vanish the moment they turned a corner. No matter how hard she searched, she couldn’t find them, crying hysterically as she asked passersby for directions.

In another, she opened her front door and walked into the living room, only to see her husband hanging from the ceiling. His feet dangled in mid-air, swaying back and forth-he was long dead.

In yet another, she was standing in line to buy tickets when a fight suddenly broke out in front of her. One person stabbed another twice, and the crowd descended into chaos.

…

Suddenly, Zhang Qiong was startled awake by the “beep-beep” of a keycard being swiped.

She sat up dazed, rubbing her bleary eyes. She strained her ears to listen and realized someone was trying to swipe their way into Room 302.

Zhang Qiong had deadbolted the door when she entered, so the person outside couldn’t get in. They seemed to be swiping the card over and over to confirm it.

Didn’t Qin Song specifically give her Room 302 to stay in? Why would another guest be trying to check in?

Squinting, Zhang Qiong fumbled for her phone on the nightstand, intending to call Qin Song to check.

The “beep-beep” of the card reader stopped.

Two seconds later, the person outside began pounding on the door.

Terrified, Zhang Qiong froze, her body stiff. She had an inexplicable dread of the sound of knocking.

The pounding grew louder and more frantic, as if the person outside was putting all their strength into breaking the door down. The rhythmic thumping was as dense as a drumbeat.

Zhang Qiong finally couldn’t take it anymore. She jumped out of bed barefoot, took two steps toward the door, and asked timidly, “Who is it?”

A sharp female voice came from outside: “Open the door!”

Zhang Qiong swallowed hard, walked over, and opened the door.

Huang Yuanrui stood in the doorway, staring intently at Zhang Qiong. “Who. Are. You?”

Under the dim lights of the hallway, her face was deathly pale, and her makeup looked strangely distorted.