Sent to the countryside, I turned the health center into a top-tier hospital.

"Dr. Chen, how old are you this year?"

"Thirty-two years old (by the traditional Chinese age reckoning)."

"He's five years older than Yingying." Cui Ying's mother nodded. "How much do you earn a month at the health center?"

Chen Ping knew this problem would come sooner or later, but he didn't expect it to come so soon.

He thought for a moment and then told the truth: "Basic salary plus performance bonus, it's about five thousand. The health center isn't doing well right now, so I probably won't get that much."

Cui Ying's mother didn't say anything, but picked up her teacup and took another sip.

She drank very slowly, as if using that sip of tea to suppress something.

She swallowed it, put down the cup, looked at Chen Ping, the smile on her face was still there, but it had changed.

It's not that we've grown distant, it's that we've grown too close, to the point that it makes people uncomfortable.

"Dr. Chen, you are a good person, I can tell."

Her voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear: "Yingying is a good child too, but you two are not on the same path."

Chen Ping looked at her without saying a word.

"Yingying has never suffered since she was a child. We have never shortchanged her on anything she wants. She attends the best schools and uses the best things. We raise her like a princess."

Cui Ying's mother lowered her voice, as if she were talking about something very private, "I don't look down on you, Dr. Chen. I'm a mother, and I have to think about my daughter's future."

"What will you two do if you get together? Is she going to stay in Siping Township for the rest of her life? What can you give her with your monthly salary of just over five thousand?"

Chen Ping lowered his head and looked at the untouched cup of tea on the coffee table.

The tea is golden yellow, and the tea leaves unfurl at the bottom of the cup, one by one, like butterflies just awakening.

He looked at it for two seconds, then looked up and smiled.

"Auntie, I understand what you mean, don't worry."

Cui Ying's mother looked at him, her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but then she swallowed it back.

She stood up, patted Chen Ping on the shoulder, said "Sit down for a while," and then turned and went upstairs.

Chen Ping sat on the sofa without moving.

He heard Cui Ying's mother's footsteps going upstairs, clattering on the solid wood stairs, unhurried and deliberate.

Then there was a knock on the door, the door opened, and then Cui Ying's voice came from upstairs.

There were several walls between us, so I couldn't hear what they were saying, but their tone was off—the kind of impatience one feels when suddenly interrupted.

Then the sound got louder.

"Mom, what are you saying? I sent him!"

"I know you sent him, but you shouldn't have brought him home without telling me. He's a man, and you're a girl. What kind of behavior is this, living together like this?" Cui Ying's mother's voice was loud.

"It's not like we have nowhere to sleep, there are so many empty rooms in the house..." Cui Ying shouted.

"An empty room is an empty room, but he's an outsider. What will your dad think when he comes back? What will the neighbors say if they see him?"

"Mom, when did you become so concerned about what other people think?"

"I've always cared. Yingying, Mom is doing this for your own good. If he really has nowhere to stay, we'll pay for him to stay in a hotel, the best hotel, for as long as he wants, but he can't stay at home."

"I don't!"

Cui Ying's voice suddenly rose, so high that the whole house shook.

Chen Ping sat on the sofa, picked up his teacup, and took a sip.

The tea has gone cold and is bitter.

He swallowed, put the cup back on the coffee table, stood up, picked up the canvas bag from the sofa, and slung it over his shoulder.

He walked to the entrance, changed into his own shoes, neatly arranged the pair of slippers belonging to Cui Ying's father, and put them back in the shoe cabinet.

He opened the door, and the sunlight outside rushed in, momentarily blinding him.

He went out and closed the door quietly, without making a sound.

The roads in the neighborhood are very clean, and the osmanthus trees on both sides are neatly trimmed, like soldiers in formation.

Chen Ping, carrying a canvas bag, walked out along the road.

His pace was neither fast nor slow, just like usual.

I ran into a nanny pushing a stroller on the street. I glanced at her, then lowered my head and continued pushing the stroller.

As he walked out of the community gate, the security guard glanced at him, said nothing, and opened the gate.

Chen Ping stood by the roadside, unsure which way to go.

He took out his phone, glanced at the time, and saw it was a little past 2 PM.

He put his phone back in his pocket, randomly chose a direction, and started walking.

People and cars were coming and going on the street.

Some people are waiting for the bus, some are on the phone, and some are buying roasted sweet potatoes from a roadside stall.

Chen Ping walked past them, and no one noticed him.

He walked down one street, then another, not knowing where he was.

He had lived in Tianhai City for so many years, but at this moment, every road felt unfamiliar and every building seemed unfamiliar to him.

He walked to a crossroads, the light was red, and he stopped.

Across the street is an office building with a glass curtain wall that reflects the sunlight, making it glaring.

He squinted for a while, and when the light turned green, he didn't leave. He stood there, watching the crowd surge past him and then surge back.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

He pulled out his phone; it was a text message from Cui Ying: "Where are you?"

He didn't reply and put his phone back in his pocket.

She was startled again. "Chen Ping, where are you? I'm coming to find you."

He still didn't reply, put his phone on silent, put it back in his pocket, and crossed the street.

He didn't know how long he had walked or how many streets he had walked.

The sun moved from the east to the west, and the shadows grew longer.

He looked down at his shadow, which was long and thin, like a bamboo pole.

Helpless, confused, and without direction!

At this moment, Chen Ping was like a walking corpse, not knowing where to go or where he should go.

A sports car drove up from behind, its engine sounding deep and understated, but you could tell it wasn't cheap.

The car drove past him and then reversed back.

The car window rolled down, revealing Xiao Lei's face.

Xiao Lei was wearing a dark suit, his hair was neatly combed, and he had that smug smile that Chen Ping was familiar with.

He looked at the gauze on Chen Ping's head, then at the canvas bag on his back, and smiled.

That smile wasn't faked; it was genuine—genuine joy and genuine schadenfreude.

"Oh, isn't this Dr. Chen?"

Xiao Lei's voice was loud enough to be heard halfway down the street, "What happened to your head? Did someone hit you? Why are you carrying a bag? Where are you going? Are you homeless?"

Chen Ping glanced at him but didn't say anything.

The passenger-side window was also rolled down.

Su Meng sat inside, wearing a light gray wool coat, her hair down, and light makeup.

The moment she saw Chen Ping, her expression changed several times: surprise, heartache, embarrassment, hesitation, before finally settling on a suppressed expression as she tried to appear calm.

"Chen Ping."

She called out, not loudly, but Chen Ping heard it.

Chen Ping looked at her, then at Xiao Lei.

Xiao Lei's hands rested on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping on it slowly and deliberately, as if he were playing a tune.

His lips curled up, and his eyes darted back and forth between Chen Ping and Su Meng, as if he were watching a good show.

"What are you doing here?" Su Meng asked.