Lin Chu had called her mother earlier with the unwelcome news that she would not be coming home for the weekend. Her mother took it in stride but reminded her not to neglect her blind date and to keep the connection warm. Lin Chu agreed without much enthusiasm.
Her blind date, Wang Ming, held a position in a government office. He was tall, handsome, and refined in manner. Yet Lin Chu felt almost no spark of attraction. During their conversations she had been candid, admitting she had no desire to marry anytime soon. Wang Ming had brushed it aside lightly, suggesting they could simply remain ordinary friends. Their interactions stayed lukewarm, and they had met face-to-face only twice.
Unable to see him that weekend, Wang Ming offered no firm commitment. He simply said they would meet when he had time, then ended the call before she could reply, leaving her with an odd sense of disappointment.
Saturday dawned bright and clear. Lin Chu rose early, washed up quietly, and set off on a long bus ride across the city. At the venue, a large banner fluttered overhead while dozens of young women crowded into the second-floor conference room to change. Having lost considerable weight recently, Lin Chu found her cheongsam hanging loosely on her frame. She pinched the extra fabric at her waist and fastened it with pins. After the leader inspected their makeup and delivered a lengthy list of reminders, the hostesses were sent to their assigned stations.
Lin Chu found herself posted at the entrance to the landfill area, where relentless swarms of mosquitoes buzzed around her. She wished she could seal herself in plastic. Beside her, Yang Chunbei, equally dressed in a cheongsam, chatted animatedly, poking fun at the portly leaders before asking for Lin Chu’s online name, claiming she had never spotted her in the company group chat.
Lin Chu whispered a reply just as a foul stench rolled in from the landfill. She covered her nose, and at that moment a thunderous roar shattered the air. In the distance a thick cloud of dust rose skyward, and against that hazy backdrop a black heavy motorcycle came roaring past.
The motorcycle braked sharply at the guard post, kicking up a swirl of dirt. A security guard moved forward to intercept it. The rider, helmeted and clad in a black vest, displayed powerful, sun-bronzed arms rippling with muscle. Yang Chunbei’s eyes widened. “He has to be handsome. Care to bet?”
Lin Chu offered a soft smile. Yang Chunbei soon slipped away from her post and glided gracefully toward the man. To Lin Chu’s quiet amusement, the rider actually engaged in conversation with her colleague. The stench soon dissipated as the official party approached. Yang Chunbei hurried back. “He’s a reporter,” she said casually. Lin Chu straightened and focused on greeting the arriving guests with a gentle, practiced smile.
She stood just above average height and blended easily among the taller etiquette ladies. Her superiors had chosen her mostly for her pleasant looks, leaving her no room to object. As the municipal leaders toured the site under the escort of City Investment Group personnel, some inquired whether the heat made the work unbearable. Deep inside the landfill, cleaning workers waited in full protective gear, their thick long-sleeved uniforms clinging heavily beneath the blazing sun while their tall boots looked stifling on the cracked, sun-baked earth.
Armed with shovels, the cleaners scooped up scattered refuse and cleared piles to allow the bulldozers to operate. A pervasive stench hung thick in the air, prompting sympathetic remarks from the leaders. Reporters captured image after image of the workers laboring under the relentless heat.
Eventually the group moved on to observe students from local schools attending classes on site. The resulting footage would blend seamlessly with the usual evening news segments.
Two hours later the leaders circled back. Someone proposed lunch in the cafeteria, and the suggestion met with ready approval. The municipal leader glanced around with a chuckle. “Let these hostesses eat too. They have been standing here all morning. After all, people need food to survive.”
Laughter rippled through the gathering. Staff soon came to release the hostesses, inviting a few to join the leaders’ table. Lin Chu was among those selected. She followed along and made a show of eating while animated conversation flowed only around the leaders. Whenever questions arose, her colleagues answered smoothly and without hesitation.
Shen Hongshan, general manager of the city investment company, suddenly stood with his phone in hand. No one seemed to notice. Lin Chu ate her rice quietly until enough time had passed, then left the cafeteria with two colleagues. The women grumbled that they were still hungry and suggested changing clothes later to find a proper meal. Lin Chu agreed cheerfully, chatting and laughing as they turned a corner toward the office building.
She walked along the outer edge of the path, still smiling, completely unaware that someone was striding briskly toward her from the side. Her colleagues had no chance to warn her before she collided forcefully with the man.
Shen Zhongxun was tall and solidly built, as unyielding as an iron wall. Sharp pain flared in Lin Chu’s shoulder. She cried out, lost her balance, and tumbled backward. He reacted instantly, reaching out to steady her, but his hand only grazed her waist before she hit the ground with a heavy thud. Her colleagues rushed forward to help her up.
A man hurried over from behind. “Manager, President Shen is waiting!”
Without sparing her another glance, Shen Zhongxun strode into the building. Lin Chu rose shakily, disheveled and furious, glaring at the entrance where he had disappeared.
Sore and covered in dust, she told her colleagues to go ahead and slipped into the nearby restroom to wash the mud from her arms and brush off her cheongsam. As she approached the second-floor meeting room to change, voices drifted through the door.
“The demolition has created an enormous problem. Did no one follow proper procedures for the chemical plant in Huitian North? What sort of demolition company did you hire? Toxic substances are now buried underground. You deserve to be sued!” The voice was older, laced with a strong accent.
The reply came low and composed. “There was a dispute between the lessee and the original owner. The factory refused to relocate, leading to a forced demolition. This resulted from our negligence and poor oversight. The environmental protection department will arrive this afternoon. I will take full responsibility.”
Lin Chu stepped aside, trying to avoid listening, yet fragments of the tense exchange still reached her. She shifted restlessly and swatted at the mosquitoes swarming her arms.
Some time later the door opened. Lin Chu waited until the footsteps faded before slipping inside and locking the door behind her. She had barely begun unzipping her cheongsam when a voice cut through the quiet. “Don’t take it off.”
Startled, she spun around. A man stood beside the stacked wooden chairs, faint smoke curling from his fingertips. He drew his hand from his pocket. “Is this yours?”
Lin Chu touched her waist and realized the pin had vanished. Recognizing him as the man from the collision, she frowned. “Could you please step outside for a moment? I need to change.”
Shen Zhongxun remained motionless. After a pause he extended the pin toward her. “Hmm,” he murmured softly, waiting for her to take it.
Confused, Lin Chu instinctively reached for her zipper again. He appeared momentarily startled, then placed the pin on a nearby chair. “It caught in my sleeve. Were you standing outside the whole time?”
Before she could form a reply, his tone grew more serious, blending plea and warning. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
Uncertain whether he referred to the scolding or the chemical incident, Lin Chu simply nodded. As he walked toward the door he suddenly turned back, causing her to cover her back protectively. He looked slightly embarrassed, his gaze drifting away. “I bumped into you earlier. Sorry. Don’t worry, I didn’t see your back clearly. There is still some dust on your elbows, though. Goodbye.”
He slipped out and closed the door gently. Fresh anger surged through Lin Chu, coloring her ears and cheeks. He hadn’t seen her back clearly, yet he noticed dust on her elbows? She gritted her teeth, her face burning.
Following the national housing reform, Min’an Real Estate had been founded to develop affordable and resettlement housing throughout Nanjiang City. Its projects had drawn strong praise in recent years, but now a serious issue had erupted. While Zhou Dazhi remained out of town, Shen Zhongxun worked tirelessly, overseeing the tense investigation by the environmental protection department.
That evening, after changing, Lin Chu joined her colleagues at the bus stop. They noticed Yang Chunbei speaking on the phone with a radiant smile. As Lin Chu scratched at her unusually large mosquito bites, a familiar roar echoed down the street. The black motorcycle sped by. Yang Chunbei waved, and the rider nodded in greeting before vanishing into the distance.
“His name is Jiang Jin, a reporter at the Nanjiang Evening News,” Yang Chunbei said brightly. “Very handsome. Unfortunately he’s busy today.”
Meanwhile, Jiang Jin weaved through the city streets, wrote up his article at the newspaper office, and later arrived at an old residence on Ningxi Road. The five-story building still carried the quiet charm of another era, its wooden floors creaking beneath his steps. When the door on the third floor opened, he waved cheerfully. “Hi, Aunt. You’re here so early?”
Wen Peiru pulled him inside with a laugh. “You’re always dawdling. Everyone’s waiting for you so we can eat.”
The family had gathered around the table. Shen Hongshan presided sternly at the head. Jiang Jin greeted everyone warmly before asking about Shen Zhongxun’s absence. Wen Peiru scolded his manners while Shen Hongshan criticized his noisy motorcycle and casual style. Jiang Jin simply ate with enthusiasm and deftly dodged talk of resigning and studying abroad.
The Shen family dinner ended by half past eight. Shen Zhongxun called late that night from his busy schedule and received a reassuring reply. Wen Peiru kept silent about his grandfather’s stern expression.
Late into the night, after returning to his apartment, Shen Zhongxun remained awake. He worked in his study until the sky began to lighten, sleeping only two hours before rising on instinct. He threw himself back into work, spending the next two days shuttling between sites north of the city before finally stealing a proper night’s rest.
That same evening, Lin Chu sat curled in her bedroom drafting a briefing. While searching the group’s official website, she clicked on an old article about Min’an Real Estate. In the photograph, one blurry figure standing behind the general manager struck her as oddly familiar. It was not until she turned off the lights and lay down that the memory surfaced with sudden clarity. A chill ran down her spine. She pulled the blanket tightly around her body, tucking it securely over her back.
The next day, Lin Chu woke from the stifling heat, her back already slick with a thin layer of sweat. She pulled out an electric fan and set it on a wooden chair, then fetched some water from the bathroom and hurried back to brush her teeth in the cool breeze. Her eyes still felt heavy with sleep, but she forced herself to stay alert once she left the house. Work waited for no one.
That weekend, Lin Chu finally managed to go home. After finishing work on Friday, she changed buses three times and reached Chuqian Bus Station by half past six. Unlicensed taxi drivers swarmed around the exit, but she ignored their calls and walked out on her own. With prices rising everywhere, even tricycle fares had increased. Unwilling to spend ten yuan on an unlicensed cab or seven on a tricycle, she simply strolled slowly along West Suburbs Road.
Chuqian District had only been incorporated into Nanjiang City a decade earlier. Once an ordinary small county town, its property values had skyrocketed since then, multiplying several times over. A large-scale demolition project the previous year had relocated most factories, replacing them with new residential communities and hotels. The area was beginning to resemble the heart of Nanjiang City more and more.
Lin Chu’s family lived in an old building constructed sixteen years ago, back when housing prices were still remarkably low. At the time, her father had been promoted to factory manager. He had purchased their ninety-square-meter apartment for only half the listed price, paying twenty thousand yuan out of his own pocket. That same year the family bought an air conditioner, a refrigerator, and even installed a telephone that cost over two thousand yuan. They had felt as though they were living in the height of success. Then the wave of layoffs changed everything. Fortunately, her father had invested fifty thousand yuan in the factory. When it was later sold, he received a substantial sum. Combined with decades of careful saving, the money was now enough for them to consider buying a new home.
As soon as Lin Chu stepped inside, she heard her mother complaining that a recent torrential rain had caused the master bedroom roof to leak again. She was urging her father to climb up and repair it over the weekend. Lin Chu quickly interjected, “Just hire a repairman. Don’t make Dad go up there.”
Her mother walked over and closed the door. “Why spend money on a master for such a small job? There are men in the house. Why not make use of them?”
She took out a bowl of mung bean soup from the refrigerator and offered it to Lin Chu. Then she continued, “Your father and I have already chosen a new house. He can’t walk well, so he prefers the first floor, but I worry it will be too damp. After looking around, I think the third floor is best. What do you think?”
In a five-story building, the third floor commanded the highest price. Lin Chu felt the pinch but figured the difference between floors was not that great. “Actually, the first floor has a garage attached, so it functions more like a second floor. It shouldn’t be too damp.”
Her mother shook her head. “It’s inconvenient to dry clothes on the first floor. The sunlight is perfect on the third.”
In truth, her mother had already made up her mind and was only seeking agreement. Lin Chu smiled, picked up her spoon, and nodded readily. Her mother looked satisfied and glanced toward Lin’s father, who remained absorbed in the evening news, as if to prove her point.
Lin Chu rested at home for two days before rushing back to the city on Sunday night.
The company’s new plans for June had already begun rolling out. Lin Chu marked the dates on her calendar and started eating more regularly, determined to gain a little weight.
A major city event was scheduled for the middle of the month, with the City Investment Group participating. Lin Chu’s workplace would perform two pieces: a chorus and a folk dance. Unfortunately, she was expected to do both at once.
She had grown quite thin, something her mother had already scolded her about. The ordered performance costume now looked oversized on her slight frame, making her appear listless. For the next half month, Lin Chu focused on eating well. By the middle of the month, she had finally put on some weight. During that time she met Wang Ming again, and this time he invited her to see a movie.
Wang Ming seemed completely unfamiliar with cinemas and fumbled even buying tickets. Lin Chu watched from the sidelines, feeling a touch of nervousness.
Inside the darkened theater, the two barely spoke a word, which actually felt more comfortable than their meals together. Lin Chu loved films and quickly became absorbed in the story, but Wang Ming was different. He kept stealing glances at her. When he saw she was not paying him any attention, he grew bolder, tilting his head slightly to study her profile.
Among all his blind dates, Lin Chu was undoubtedly the most beautiful. Her small, delicate face was fair and fine-featured, and her long hair fell to one side, revealing a smooth forehead. Perhaps because she still looked somewhat youthful, she tended to dress in a more mature style, but the effect only made her appear endearingly naive.
Wang Ming liked her very much. Yet he was accustomed to keeping a certain distance and did not quite know how to pursue her. After more than half a month without any contact from her, he grew anxious and finally invited her to the movies.
After the film ended, Lin Chu wanted to head straight home, but Wang Ming stopped her and suggested a walk by Nanhu Lake.
People flowed in and out around the cinema. The city at night always held a certain allure, with its cool breeze and hazy neon glow. But Lin Chu was bundled up tightly, and her slight nearsightedness kept distractions at bay. She smiled thoughtfully. “I’m not going. I still have a report to finish at home. By the way, have you been on any other blind dates lately? If you bring your girlfriend next time, I can give you a membership card with discounts. I forgot to bring it today.”
Wang Ming looked taken aback and gave an awkward reply. The two walked slowly toward the bus stop. Lin Chu continued speaking lightly. “I’ll treat you to a meal when I have the chance. I never properly thanked you for covering for me. My mom has stopped nagging me lately. Actually, sometimes I really don’t understand. I’m only twenty-three. Is there such a rush? Anyway, I’ll just keep going like this. I definitely won’t get married before thirty.”
Wang Ming nodded awkwardly. They parted at the bus stop. Lin Chu hopped onto the bus without looking back. Wang Ming adjusted his glasses and watched until it disappeared into the night.
The sky remained overcast that day, the sun hiding behind layers of clouds. A gentle breeze scattered a few patches, but it never broke through.
The performance stage by Nanhu Lake had been fully set up, with television cameras positioned nearby and several other media outlets waiting. Lin Chu changed and applied her makeup in a temporary building behind the stage, then waited to go on.
The leaders’ speeches at the front dragged on, one after another. When a deep, resonant voice began, Lin Chu, who had been feeling drowsy, immediately opened her eyes.
That voice was perfect for evening news broadcasts. It carried a paradoxical quality, smooth like polished marble yet with a faint husky edge, as though sandpaper had gently brushed across it. A colleague peeked in from outside, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Did you hear the man giving that speech? He’s Shen Hongshan’s youngest son. Around thirty, successful, composed, with a strong masculine presence. Most importantly, he’s still single.”
The crowd immediately erupted in cheers and lively suggestions, urging her to seize the opportunity.
After some time, it was finally Lin Chu and the others’ turn to take the stage. The group arranged themselves neatly and marched forward in unison. They performed a hymn to the motherland, their costumes evoking an old-fashioned 1980s style that looked somewhat out of place on these young women.
It was the weekend, and the area around Nanhu Lake was bustling with tourists. Beyond the seated guests, a large crowd had gathered outside the roped-off performance zone. This was Lin Chu’s first time on such a grand stage, and she could not help feeling nervous. She kept telling herself it would be fine, yet her face remained flushed and her breathing uneven. Only after singing halfway through did she manage to calm herself and pour real effort into the performance.
Once offstage, Lin Chu took a brief rest before changing into a dress and returning with another group for the folk dance. Her movements were decent enough, but a closer look revealed a certain stiffness. Midway through, her hand gestures ended up reversed from the others. The audience did not seem to notice, and Lin Chu quickly corrected herself, continuing with composure.
A leader turned to someone nearby and asked, “Are these the new young women you hired? I don’t think I saw some of them last year.”
The man chuckled. “We brought in a group of interns last January. They were all doing rotational training at the time and didn’t participate in performances. This year we can finally put them on stage. These interns are quite impressive. They have solid educations and are willing to endure hardship. Especially the girl on the far left who looks rather young. Back when temperatures dropped below zero last winter, she was assigned to the landfill. Every morning at four o’clock in the freezing cold, she went out to shovel snow and clear garbage. She stuck with it for a whole month. She was the most hardworking one in that batch.”
Hearing this, Shen Zhongxun followed the man’s gesture and looked up at the stage. There he saw Lin Chu bending gracefully, twirling with her skirt gently gathered, her smile perfectly angled as though she had rehearsed it countless times before a mirror.
He touched the small wound on his wrist, now nearly healed, and propped his chin on his hand, watching intently. No one noticed the thin, short man carrying a paint bucket who crouched low as he made his way toward the stage.
The change happened in an instant. The music was nearing its final notes, and the dancers were slowing their movements, preparing for the closing pose. Suddenly the short man leaped onto the stage, brandishing the paint bucket and shouting at the top of his lungs. The security guards stationed around the perimeter barely had time to react before he lifted the bucket and hurled its contents forcefully over the dancers. Several in the middle were splashed, triggering immediate screams. The others on the sides panicked and tried to flee, but their long skirts hindered them. Flustered and disoriented, they pushed and shoved one another. When they reached the steps, they tumbled down in a chaotic heap.
The man raised a lighter, its small flame flickering, and bellowed, “Nobody move, or I’ll set you all on fire!” He took a few threatening steps closer to the dancers and warned those who had not been splashed, “Don’t run, or I’ll burn them alive right now!”
Those people had no intention of listening. They fled in blind panic. Only a few in the center, drenched in bright red paint, huddled together in terror. Yang Chunbei was among them, sobbing uncontrollably.
The audience below the stage scattered in fear toward the outer edges while security guards pushed their way back toward the center. Onlookers chattered excitedly at the unfolding spectacle, and reporters eagerly raised their cameras to capture every thrilling moment.
Several leaders from the City Investment Group and municipal officials stood firmly in front of the stage, loudly questioning the dancers. The short man glared fiercely at the women on stage before turning toward the leaders and shouting, “I want you to pay me back! People from the City Investment Group, I want you to take responsibility! I want to expose what you have done!”
He rambled incoherently about the forced demolition of the Huitian North Chemical Plant, but the surrounding noise and commotion drowned out most of his words. Only those standing closest could hear him clearly.
Lin Chu had run quickly earlier and now stood below the stage in panic. She had been pushed down the steps and seemed to have twisted her ankle. Every attempt to take a step sent sharp pain shooting through her. Everyone else had already fled, and no one had stopped to help. Tears welled in her eyes as anxiety gripped her. After a long moment she took a deep breath and forced herself to move forward, enduring the pain with each careful step.
She had only taken two steps when a body suddenly pressed against her from behind. Startled, Lin Chu instinctively tried to scream, but a hand immediately covered her mouth. A deep voice spoke close to her ear. “I am Shen Zhongxun from Min’an Real Estate. We have met at the Environmental Group. Don’t be afraid.”
Lin Chu felt an immediate wave of relief. Though her heart still raced, strength seemed to return to her legs.
Shen Zhongxun released his hand and asked in a low voice, “Do you know where the microphone is? Do as I say.”
He gave her a few quick instructions, but Lin Chu shook her head and turned to leave. Shen Zhongxun grabbed her with a stern expression and refused to let go. She gritted her teeth. “What does this have to do with me? Let me go!”
The man on stage continued shouting, nearly delirious, as cries and screams blended into a chaotic din. Shen Zhongxun spoke expressionlessly. “Aren’t those people up there your colleagues? Are you really that selfish?”
Lin Chu could not help but sneer. The expression looked strangely out of place on her slightly youthful face. Shen Zhongxun frowned as she shot back, “Who is selfish? Isn’t this all your doing?”
His face darkened with displeasure. Just as he opened his mouth to reply, the man on stage shouted again that he would light the fire. The flickering flame swung toward Yang Chunbei, who screamed and stumbled backward. She had been cornered, with the solid wooden planks of the stage trapping her in place.
Shen Zhongxun felt a long strand of hair slap sharply across his face. The thin braid on the side struck his eye. He squinted and leaned back. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that Lin Chu had already run to a cabinet beside the stage. She pulled a microphone from behind a box and shouted toward the stage, “Sir!”
Shen Zhongxun reacted swiftly. He rushed backstage and circled around to the other side of the stage.
