Chapter 1: Disliking Her

In April 2019, Shen Weiqing traveled to Italy for an exhibition. Instead of flying back to Shanghai afterward, he landed in Beijing.

His friend Yi Qiao picked him up in a gleaming white Tesla. As they drove, Yi Qiao wouldn't stop gushing about how the car's sleek design would inspire every tech enthusiast, especially young entrepreneurs like himself.

Shen Weiqing kept quiet. He knew Yi Qiao too well - the man had no real eye for design. He'd probably bought the car either because it was trendy, or because some girl in his circle was selling them and he wanted to impress her.

Beijing's springs were brief and harsh. The wind kicked up clouds of gritty sand. Shen Weiqing tried rolling down the window to clear out the cigarette smoke, but the air outside was even worse, so he closed it again.

Yi Qiao's sharp eyes caught the bandage awkwardly plastered to the side of Shen Weiqing's neck, where an angry red scratch peeked out underneath.

"Got yourself a girlfriend?" Yi Qiao's voice was teasing. "Or maybe a vacation fling?"

Shen Weiqing coughed. His throat felt raw from the dry air.

"No. A dog scratched me."

"Oh come on, don't call her that."

Shen Weiqing frowned at Yi Qiao's crassness.

"It was actually a dog," he turned away. "Song Wen's."

Shen Weiqing and Yi Qiao went way back. Song Wen was newer to their circle - a classmate from Shen Weiqing's industrial design master's program in Milan. The three had clicked when Yi Qiao visited Italy, forming their own little group.

During this trip, Shen Weiqing had discovered Song Wen's Samoyed - a fluffy white dog he treated like his own child. Yesterday at the airport, the overexcited creature had jumped up to say goodbye, leaving a deep, stinging scratch across Shen Weiqing's neck.

He'd gotten a bandage from a flight attendant, but after ten-plus hours it was barely sticking anymore.

"Where to? Your grandmother's? Mind if I join for lunch?"

"Yeah." Shen Weiqing peeled off the useless bandage and pressed his palm to the scratch. "Pull over at the alley entrance. I need to hit a pharmacy first."

His grandmother was seventy-two now, living alone in an old house inside Beijing's Second Ring Road in Xicheng District. The place was cramped and probably safe from demolition. The amenities weren't great, but the neighbors were old friends, making it feel like a real community.

Shen Weiqing had tried multiple times to convince his grandmother to retire in Shanghai with him, but she always refused. She loved the everyday bustle of her neighborhood too much.

Yi Qiao parked on the street, and they walked into the alley together.

There was an XXX Pharmacy on the corner. When they pushed open the door, the sharp smell of disinfectant hit them. Two staff members were inside, wearing matching nurse-style uniforms.

One was at the register, practically shouting instructions about membership to an elderly customer who couldn't hear well. The other was hunched over a glass counter writing something, acting as if no one had just walked in.

"Hello," Shen Weiqing said.

The staff member glanced up briefly, then went right back to writing.

Shen Weiqing stepped closer, his irritation growing. "Hello? I need to—"

The staff member waved her pen in the air without looking up. "Wait, I'm busy. Hey, you - help this customer."

Shen Weiqing's face darkened. He followed her gesture and noticed someone in the corner. She'd been crouched down cleaning a display case, hidden from view until now.

Xiang Man stood up, smoothed her uniform, and walked over. Her voice was cool but direct: "Hello, what medicine do you need?"

The exhibition had left Shen Weiqing drained, and the long flight had messed with his sleep. Irritation had been building in his chest all day. This dingy pharmacy and its rude staff were the last straw. He lifted his chin slightly. "Bandages."

He spoke in Beijing dialect, his annoyance coming through in his drawling tone.

Xiang Man nodded without meeting his eyes. "Follow me."

She was shorter than him by a head. As Shen Weiqing walked behind her, he noticed her hair in a perfect bun - not a strand out of place. She led him to a counter near the register.

"Where's the injury?"

Shen Weiqing tilted his head to show the scratch.

"What happened?"

"Dog scratch."

Xiang Man started to reach for the bottom shelf, then changed her mind and grabbed a package from the display. "Try this one. It's waterproof, has antibacterial properties, you can cut it to size, and it works anywhere on the body. It's a big pack - good to keep extras at home."

Shen Weiqing grabbed the bandages and headed for the QR code scanner to pay.

But the elderly customer was still fumbling with his membership registration at the register. While they waited, Xiang Man spoke up again:

"You might want some disinfectant cotton balls too. That scratch looks deep - it could get infected if you don't clean it properly."

Shen Weiqing looked at her. She wore no makeup, her features plain and understated. Her clear eyes fixed on his neck with a slight frown. "I'd recommend these disinfectant cotton balls and an iodine swab."

She turned and pulled two items from the cabinet. "It's a good brand, works well. For the swab, you just snap one end and the iodine will—"

As she spoke, Xiang Man's mind drifted to her monthly sales targets. These iodine swabs were part of this month's quota - high-commission items she needed to move. She recited the sales pitch automatically, the same words the manufacturers had drilled into her head. Every month brought new products to push, new scripts to learn.

When she'd first started this job, she'd thought her memorization days were over. She'd been wrong. There was even more to memorize now, and every word was tied to her income.

"They're all individually wrapped, totally sterile. The cotton balls too. There's actually a promotion right now, so they're cheaper than usual. Really, these are good things to have around the house."

Shen Weiqing wasn't listening.

He was staring at her hands holding the medicine box, wondering how someone who looked so delicate could have such ugly hands.

Were these really a young woman's hands?

They were dry and bony, knuckles jutting out. Her nails were clean but her fingertips were calloused, skin peeling around the cuticles. The thin skin barely covered the blue veins that ran up to her slim wrist before disappearing under her pale green uniform sleeve.

His grandmother's hands looked better than this.

While he hesitated, Xiang Man took a deep breath. Before she could start again, Shen Weiqing glanced at her and took both boxes from her hands.

Save your breath, he thought.

He was just tired of listening. Were all salespeople this dense nowadays? Couldn't they read the atmosphere?

When his home goods store opened later this year, he'd make sure not to hire staff like this. They'd drive customers away, turning every sale into a one-time transaction.

But apparently this salesperson not only couldn't read the room - she didn't know when to quit.

The elderly customer finally finished checking out. Xiang Man moved behind the counter, clicked through the sales system, and asked, "Would you like to sign up for membership?"

"No," Shen Weiqing said flatly.

"Our pharmacy has a membership system that works at all 12 locations in the city. Members get special deals on the 12th of every month, and if you spend over 300 yuan, you get 20 eggs. There's also a year-end raffle with prizes like iPhones and iPads."

"No thanks."

"You should consider it. You live nearby, right? We have monthly rewards you can get with points. Things like foot soak sets, bath basins, disinfectant wipes, anti-hair loss shampoo."

Xiang Man ignored his refusals and the edge in his voice. Her thin hand rested on the shelf of membership gifts.

"Let me show you this month's options. We have vitamin C tablets and—"

And condoms.

Good brand. Big box.

Shen Weiqing felt his last thread of patience snap. "I don't want any of that."

Then he caught her eyes darting between him and Yi Qiao.

Two well-dressed men standing together - they made quite a picture.

Xiang Man gave a slight nod, like something had clicked.

Finally sensing she'd pushed too far, she backed off. "How would you like to pay?"

The moment Shen Weiqing left the pharmacy, he muttered, "Idiot."

Yi Qiao just laughed. "Nobody has it easy in sales these days."

Inside the pharmacy, another conversation was unfolding.

Jiang Chen took a swig of cold water, her throat raw from shouting instructions at the elderly customer about membership. She leaned her head on Xiang Man's shoulder with a sigh. "Sister Xiang, this job is killing me."

On top of sales quotas, head office wanted them to sign up 120 new members this month.

Xiang Man had seen how annoyed that customer was, but what choice did she have? Young men were usually their easiest targets - they got embarrassed when you brought stuff up, and they hated arguing, so they'd usually cave.

But that guy? His politeness was just a veneer. No way she was getting him signed up as a member.

At 2:00 p.m., their shift was over.

Sun Lin was first to change and clock out. She'd spent all morning on an inventory sheet - two pages that took her days to finish. She hadn't helped a single customer. After pressing her finger on the time clock, she shot Xiang Man and Jiang Chen a look. "Why kill yourselves over pocket change? You trying to work yourselves to death?"

Once she was gone, Jiang Chen leaned in close to Xiang Man. "Don't get in her way lately. Pretty sure she's quitting - she's checked out completely."

Xiang Man nodded.

Shen Weiqing made it to his grandmother's house only to find it locked.

He called her. She was at Fayuan Temple - it was the fifteenth of the month. She'd be a while.

Yi Qiao groaned. "So much for getting zhajiang noodles. I'm out of here."

After Yi Qiao left, Shen Weiqing felt along the door beam. The key was right where it always was - his grandmother still hadn't broken that habit. He let himself in.

The place was tiny, barely twenty square meters, and exactly as he remembered. Same old photos on the walls, same tin biscuit box on the table. But the air had that musty smell you get when someone lives alone.

Shen Weiqing made up his mind. This time he wouldn't take no for an answer - his grandmother was coming to Shanghai. She needed proper healthcare and a decent place to retire. No more of this stubborn independence.

His phone rang.

"I knew you'd let yourself in, you rascal," his grandmother said. "I need to grab some groceries before heading back. There's someone coming by - keep them company for me?"

Shen Weiqing sat on the ancient sofa. The padding was so worn out it felt like sitting on wood. "What guest? Who's coming?"

"A massage therapist. They're excellent - come by now and then for my legs."

His grandmother had struggled with diabetes for years. Her legs were always swollen and painful.

He leaned forward, elbows on knees, his voice turning serious. "Are they legitimate? Where'd you find them? You can't trust just anyone with this. If you need a therapist, I'll get you a proper one."

"Don't fuss," she said. "I'll be home soon. They should be there any minute. Just give them some water and put out some fruit from the fridge."

He'd barely hung up and gotten to his feet when someone knocked.

He went to answer, his coat brushing the plastic bead curtain in the doorway.

Through the faded beads, he saw a familiar face.

"Hello."

Xiang Man looked a bit startled too, but her face - those subtle double-lidded eyes, that gentle roundness - gave little away. A flicker of surprise, then nothing.

She slipped back into her usual blank expression.

It was the same face she'd worn at the pharmacy while selling him bandages - robotically reciting her pitch, mind somewhere else entirely.

Shen Weiqing, his head nearly touching the doorframe, looked down at her. "You're my grandmother's massage therapist?"

"Yes."

"You actually know how?"

"I do."

Away from her sales counter, she'd turned into a woman of few words.

From where he stood, Shen Weiqing could see the big willow tree at the mouth of the alley.

Beijing really was different.

Even the trees, like the buildings, had that old capital stiffness to them. They stood straight and rigid. The willows here were thick and strong - nothing like Shanghai's gentle sycamores swaying in the breeze.

Even the willow fluff floating around seemed aggressive, choking everyone equally.

Shen Weiqing fought back a cough and narrowed his eyes as he met Xiang Man's upward gaze.

What a pain.

One day in this city and he already hated it. The trees, the people - all of it.