Breakfast finished in an awkward rush, Su Yang hurried upstairs with a mug of lemon tea she had brewed.
She’d spent the whole morning working on the welcome-week plan for the freshmen and sophomores who would run next September’s orientation. Her laptop and phone had been glued to her hands as she dug through files and references. Because last year’s orientation had been run with a senior who has since graduated, Su Yang had taken it on herself to tidy up all the preparatory material so the incoming students could pick it up quickly.
Organizing the documents was tedious and time-consuming. She’d been holed up in her room most of the morning; by the time she finished listing everything and emailed the main contacts, it was already past noon.
She stretched at her desk, grabbed the now-empty cup and went downstairs. The living room was quiet—the housekeeper had finished cleaning and gone—but on the kitchen island there was a bowl of avocado salad and a note: she’d put shrimp fried rice in the fridge and Su Yang could heat it in the microwave for lunch.
Su Yang smiled at the note, washed the cup, then took the fried rice out and slid it into the microwave.
She called He Juan while she ate. He Juan sounded reasonably alert; mother and daughter chattered about small things for ten minutes. Just before she hung up, He Juan asked, “Is Xiao Xu busy lately?”
It took Su Yang a few seconds to figure out who “Xiao Xu” meant. While she cleared her empty bowl and plate into the sink she answered, “He’s been pretty busy.”
“If he’s working a lot, you should cook for him when you’re free—help take some of the load off.” There was the practical tone of someone who’d lived through a marriage.
Su Yang couldn’t help a wry laugh. “Mom, he doesn’t cook either. What burden am I easing?”
“You two don’t cook? Young people surviving on takeout every day?” Her mother disapproved.
She didn’t know how to explain the odd, mismatched arrangement she and Xu Lize currently had, so she changed the subject. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll take care of ourselves. I’ll come to the hospital tomorrow to—”
“What are you coming for? I’m fine. Don’t keep running to the hospital. As long as your mother’s healthy, I can sleep.” He Juan cut her off and hung up.
Su Yang stared at the dark screen and smiled sadly. Her mother had always been superstitious about hospital visits—thought they were bad luck unless absolutely necessary. At first Su Yang used to push back, still making her daily check-in. But after a while she found those small absences would upset her mother, so she gradually cut down the visits to keep He Juan calm.
Before she could dwell on it, her phone rang again. This time it was Fang Shuqin, and her voice was urgent. “Su Yang…where are you now?”
“At home,” Su Yang answered.
“Have you seen Xiao Xuan recently?”
“No—only once, the last time I was at school I saw her from a distance in the subway.”
“Can you go check on her?” Fang’s voice trembled. “Last night, when it was raining, I sprained my ankle chasing a bus. I thought it was nothing this morning, but the doctor put it in a cast. I’m not supposed to walk for seven days.”
“What?” Su Yang jumped up and ran upstairs to grab her bag. “Don’t move. I’ll be there.”
“It’s not me—my foot’s fine, just a hairline fracture—but it’s Xiao Xuan who worries me.” Fang hurried on. “I didn’t go to work today because of my foot. Around noon, she suddenly came back. I think she didn’t expect me to be home—when she came in I could see her eyes were swollen. She’d been crying.”
“Did you ask what happened?” Su Yang shoved her charger and metro card into her bag and was out the door.
“She wouldn’t tell me. She kept crying.”
The apartment door clicked shut behind her, and Su Yang ran. “Why did she come back to the rental today?”
“For her medical insurance card,” Fang said. “I asked if she was sick—she only cried and wouldn’t say anything. It’s infuriating.”
“Where is she now?”
“She just left—headed back to the old district.” Fang sounded certain. “When she left I chased after her. She was on the phone; I heard her say she’d be home soon and to wait. Su Yang, if you—”
“Don’t worry, I’m on my way. The metro’s quick; I’ll be there in maybe half an hour—probably the same time as her.” Su Yang cut her off. “You stay put with that broken foot. Let me talk to Xiao Xuan first. I’ll call you with an update.”
“Thanks, Yang Yang.” Fang kept thanking her, voice tight. “Xiao Xuan’s been off lately. Twice she called me in the middle of the night. I’m afraid she’s going through something and trying to shoulder it alone.”
“We’re classmates—don’t be polite about it. I wanted to see her anyway.” Su Yang hopped into the subway entrance. “I’m about to go through the turnstiles. I’ll call you later.”
There was a direct subway from Wutong One to Zhao Jingxuan’s neighborhood, and since it wasn’t the weekend the train was fairly empty. Su Yang found a seat and debated whether to call Zhao Jingxuan. Before she could decide, Xu Lize’s call came through.
“You out?” he asked, the metro’s station announcement faint in the background.
“Yeah, just stepped out,” she said.
“Where to?”
She heard a faint echo where he seemed to be standing in a large, empty space, and the breath in his voice was soft. She opened her mouth to tell him but swallowed the words. “Meeting a classmate.”
“Do you have a driver’s license?” he asked abruptly.
“Yes. I have one but I haven’t driven much,” she replied.
“I have a dinner tonight—will be drinking. I’ll send you the address. Be there around eight-thirty to pick me up.”
His tone wasn’t mechanical, but there was an ease to it that made the request more like a quiet expectation than a favor. Su Yang had no intention of refusing. She was just curious. “What about your driver?”
“He’s on leave,” Xu Lize said. “Are you busy tonight? If you are—”
“No, I’m free!” Su Yang cut in. There was a feeling brewing in her she couldn’t name; it made her answer too quickly. “Send me the address. I’ll be on time to pick you up at eight-thirty.”