Mud beads

After presenting the flowers, Yu Zhu quickly withdrew, while Ji Yong remained in the hall exchanging pleasantries with Yue Jian Che.

Feeling out of place in this situation, she sent Ji Yong a WeChat message and then hid in the bathroom.

The water from the sink washed away the stickiness left by the chrysanthemum in her palms. She looked up at herself in the mirror: short hair, black clothes, pale skin, and dark circles under her eyes.

It feels a bit unfamiliar.

After waiting a while longer, she dried her hands, threw the tissue into the trash can, and turned to leave.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the corridor, pine and cypress trees lined the hillside. The hazy sky made the greenery appear even more so. Turning the corner, a faint smell of smoke drifted over. A few steps away, by the glass door, Toru Etsuma was smoking, facing the outside.

His suit jacket was unbuttoned, and the collar of his white shirt was slightly loosened. Seeing Yu Zhu, he looked up and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray beside him.

Yu Zhu stopped in her tracks, instinctively avoiding Yue Jianche's gaze, and took a half-step back. But the corridor was deserted, and she had nowhere to retreat, so she had no choice but to turn her gaze back.

Echizen Toru slightly raised his chin, his indifferent gaze sweeping down from above, his voice devoid of emotion: "Avoiding me?"

More than four years had passed, and when Yu Zhu heard Yue Jianche's voice again, her spine still involuntarily tensed. She was silent for a moment before slowly saying, "Please accept my condolences."

Echizen's lips twitched slightly.

"polite."

Yu Zhu saw the sarcasm in his eyes, lowered her head, and remained silent. She stood there for a while longer, and seeing that Yue Jianche showed no sign of moving, she clenched her fist, steeled herself, and stepped forward.

The two brushed past each other. He didn't stop her, but suddenly said, "Grandpa asked about you when he was seriously ill."

Yu Zhu paused, but didn't turn around.

Echigo's voice came from behind, calm yet somewhat indifferent: "He asked you how you are, whether you're still in school."

A vent above her head sent out a bit of warm air, causing Yu Zhu's hair to sway gently. She didn't speak, her fingers gripping the edge of her coat tightly.

Toru Echizen continued, "I said I didn't know, and she blocked me."

"You—" Yu Zhu turned around abruptly, her words caught in her throat before she could finish. The warm breeze made her cheeks dry, but her eyes gradually welled up with tears.

Before my eyes, Echizen Toru's face also became blurry.

She dared not blink, afraid that tears would fall.

Echizen glanced at her for a moment, then let out a soft scoff.

"Just kidding."

His tone remained indifferent: "I told you that your grades are very good and that you will have a bright future."

Yu Zhu felt a slight relief in her chest as Yue Jianche spoke, and tears welled up in her eyes. She quickly raised her hand to wipe away the remaining tear stains on her cheeks, took a deep breath, and tried to calm herself down as soon as possible.

"Thank you." Yu Zhu turned her head, her tone solemn. "I will repay the Yue family's kindness."

"return?"

Upon hearing this, Toru Koshima smiled and took a step forward: "How do you plan to repay me?"

The distance between them suddenly shortened, and Yu Zhu caught that familiar, cool woody scent again. She took two steps back, her back hitting the wall.

Unable to speak.

Her first thought was money. The 100,000 yuan to buy her out, the card Yue Feng gave her, tuition, rent, food—she remembered all the figures. But in this corridor, in Grandpa Yue's memorial hall, amidst the black-clad and white-flowered figures, she suddenly realized that some things cannot be measured by money.

She also owes favors to others.

Koshima Toru seemed satisfied with her silence and did not press the matter further.

He raised his hand, slowly and deliberately adjusting his cufflinks, his voice calm: "Fine. I'll wait for you to pay me back."

Yu Zhu turned her face, looked up at Yue Jianche, and pursed her lips.

Footsteps came from the other end of the corridor.

Ji Yong walked over, first looking at Yu Zhu, then at Yue Jianche. Her gaze lingered for a moment, but she didn't ask anything.

"I've been looking for you for ages," he said to Yu Zhu. "I thought you were lost."

Before Yu Zhu could answer, Ji Yong stood next to her and looked at Yue Jianche: "Not bad?"

Koshima Toru: "Busy."

Ji Yong nodded: "There's no other way at this point; I need to speak."

Echizen Toru hummed in agreement.

Ji Yong then asked, "Are we continuing?"

"We can't leave," said Toru Echizen. "We can't return to our country."

Ji Yong's eyes widened slightly, and she patted Yue Jianche on the shoulder: "Then I'll have to call you Director Yue from now on."

Echizen shook his head and smiled, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. A strand of hair fell loose from his hairline, landing on his forehead, revealing a hint of his long-lost youthful charm.

As the two were talking, someone jogged down the corridor; it was Echizen Toru's assistant.

The assistant nodded politely to Ji Yong and Yu Zhu, then looked at Yue Jianche and said in a low voice, "Chairman Li and his wife have arrived. Would you like to go over there first?"

Ji Yong said to Yu Zhu at the right moment, "Let's go, I'll take you home."

Yu Zhu nodded.

Echizen Tetsuya returned to the front hall before the other two.

Along the way, people kept coming up to him. He listened to a few words, and his expression returned to normal. The irritating thing in the corridor had been completely removed, as if it had never existed.

Moth

The sky outside the auditorium grew increasingly dark.

As the car drove down the mountain, the pines and cypresses receded into the distance. The gray-white eaves of the memorial hall grew smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, soon obscured by the shadows of the trees.

Ji Yong gripped the steering wheel, her gaze fixed on the road: "Did he give you a hard time?"

Yu Zhu shook her head: "No."

"You never tell the truth."

Yu Zhu looked out the window: "Really, there isn't any."

Ji Yong twitched the corner of her mouth and didn't ask any further questions.

As the car entered the city, the noise suddenly increased. Buses braked sharply, electric bikes squeezed between vehicles, oil pans from roadside stalls smoked, and plastic signs rattled in the wind. The noise surged up, shattering the tranquility of the memorial hall.

Ji Yong took her to the vicinity of Nong Ning Tea.

Yu Zhu unbuckled her seatbelt, turned around, and said, "Thank you."

Ji Yong glanced at her, her smile a little tired: "If you thank me again, I'll get angry."

"good……"

"Call me if you need anything."

Yu Zhu nodded and got out of the car.

There was no turning back.

The Nongning Tea shop was already bustling with activity. Liang Xia saw her enter wearing a black coat, her straw pausing in mid-air.

"Oh, you went to walk the runway?" Liang Xia said casually. "You're quite abstinent."

Yu Zhu took off her coat, hung it on the cleanest clothes rack in the reserve area, and changed into her work clothes.

She slipped on a white T-shirt; the funeral, white flowers, and black suit were all overshadowed by the sweet aroma and steam of the bubble tea shop. She washed the cup, sliced ​​a lemon, and added ice to the plastic cup. The ice cube slammed in with a clang, and she was back to reality.

That evening, Sister Liao received her salary, which was transferred to her WeChat account. It was 4,300 yuan, 200 yuan more than the estimated working hours. Sister Liao said it was commission.

Looking at the balance in her WeChat wallet, Yu Zhu recalled Yue Jianche's words from that morning, "I'll wait for you to pay me back," and felt agitated.

She knew he might not really care how much she owed him, but at least the money was countable, and she could pay him back. No, he couldn't.

Thinking of this, Yu Zhu took out her phone and opened the local part-time job group.

Winter break had arrived, and she had plenty of time. Messages in the group chat were scrolling by quickly—flyers, tutoring offers, mall promotions. She read through them one by one, finally stopping at an urgent job posting.

Hotel greeter/hostess, 500 RMB per day, paid daily, lunch included. Requirements: over 168cm tall, good-looking.

Looking at the salary, Yu Zhu sent a friend request without thinking.

Her application was approved quickly, and she sent her resume as requested. Shortly after, she received an interview invitation, asking her to report for duty at nine o'clock the next morning.

Moth

The next morning, Yu Zhu went to the address.

The location wasn't on a busy main street, but rather in a renovated area of ​​old Western-style houses. There was a black iron gate with a small sign—bronze lettering on a black background—that read "Jinyuan Mansion." There were no extravagant signs or people soliciting customers; only two security guards in dark uniforms, walkie-talkies clipped to their ears.

Yu Zhu gave her name at the door.

The security guard checked the list before letting her in.

The courtyard was paved with old bricks, the grout lines of which were spotlessly clean. On either side stood trimmed holly bushes and bare sycamore trees. The main building was a three-story old Western-style house with gray walls, white window frames, and a brass lamp hanging by the door. The lamp wasn't lit during the day, but its glass shade was polished to a shine, reflecting images clearly.

The front desk manager, surnamed Chen, was in her forties. Her hair was tied up tightly, and she wore a black suit with only her surname on her name tag.

She looked Yu Zhu up and down, and then checked her ID card and student ID.

"He's over eighteen," Manager Chen said. "Still in school?"

"Yes," Yu Zhu said, "Freshman year."

Manager Chen's eyes flickered, but he didn't ask further questions: "This is a formal business reception area. Temporary concierges only stand in the lobby and banquet hall; they don't enter private rooms, drink alcohol, or engage in idle chatter with guests. If a guest asks a question, answer if you can; if you can't, find the manager on duty. Hand over your phones; no taking photos, no posting on social media, and no asking for guests' names. Can I stand here?"

Yu Zhu nodded: "Yes."

"500 a day, paid daily. Deductions for lateness, deductions for mistakes, and unauthorized photography will result in immediate dismissal."

"Know."

Manager Chen handed her a set of clothes.

The uniform was a light grass-colored cheongsam with a low slit, paired with white low-heeled leather shoes with three-centimeter heels. The clothes were ironed perfectly, the fabric was smooth, and when held up to the light, you could see subtle, flowing patterns—it was very exquisite. Yu Zhu changed in the dressing room, and when she came out, Manager Chen glanced at her again but didn't say anything.

There weren't many customers in the morning.

Manager Chen taught several etiquette instructors, including Yu Zhu, how to stand properly, how to hand over clothes, how to place their hands when leading the way, and what to say when guests enter. Jinyuan Mansion only serves Chinese food; the private rooms are on the second and third floors, with names that evoke a traditional Chinese aesthetic: Lanting, Tingxue, Chunshen, and Wangjiang. The corridors are paved with terrazzo, and the walls are adorned with old black-and-white photographs of women in cheongsams, old trams, and boats along the Huangpu River. The stair railings are made of dark wood, thick to the touch, as if worn smooth by many hands.

Lunch was a staff meal: two meat dishes, three vegetable dishes, and a bowl of soup. Yu Zhu sat in a corner with her tray, listening to two full-time employees chatting next to her. They said there was an important reception tonight, and the Chun Shen Hall on the second floor and the small tea room next to it were all empty. The front desk was short-staffed, so they called in so many temporary concierges.

"From the provincial capital?" someone asked in a low voice.

"How dare you!" Another person gestured for silence. "Watch your words."

Yu Zhu lowered her head and ate.

During the afternoon shift change, she was assigned to the inside of the main entrance, responsible for greeting guests and guiding them. This position was close to the door, and the wind would blow in and into her skirt as it opened and closed. After standing for a while, her calves became stiff, and her heels were bitten by the edges of her new shoes. She subtly shifted her weight to her other foot and quickly stood up straight again.

At six o'clock in the evening, all the lights in Jinyuan Mansion were turned on.

One by one, the brass wall lamps lit up, their light falling on the terrazzo floor, giving it a worn, golden hue. A low, old record played in the lobby; a woman's voice, seemingly detached from the passage of time and the fading of electricity, sang slowly and deliberately. The waiters changed into white gloves, water began to boil in the tea room, and the sound of steam rising from a clay pot being lifted from the kitchen, along with the aroma of scallions, ginger, and broth, wafted down the back corridor.

Manager Chen came downstairs and, in a low voice, instructed again, "Stand still. The guests are important tonight, so don't look around or talk nonsense. Follow instructions."

Cars began to arrive outside the gate.

The people who arrived were both men and women, mostly over forty years old, with a composed demeanor. Yu Zhu didn't recognize anyone, so she stood by the door, bowing repeatedly and extending her hand to lead the way.

"Good evening, sir. This way, please."

"Good evening, ma'am. You can leave your coat to me."

My face got a little stiff from laughing so much.

Just after seven o'clock, the intercom at the door beeped.

The security guard's voice came into the lobby: "The guests have arrived."

Manager Chen immediately walked to the door, straightening his back even more.

The security guard opened the door, and the first person to enter was a middle-aged man wearing glasses, not very tall, dressed in a dark jacket, with graying hair. Several people followed behind him, all wearing jackets and shirts, their demeanor respectful. Manager Chen greeted him with a polite smile: "Secretary Shen, good evening."

Secretary Shen walked into the lobby, then suddenly stopped, and the people following behind him also stopped.

"Where's Xiao Che?" He turned around, looking towards the door with a beaming smile. "He just vanished in the blink of an eye?"

"I'm here."

The door opened again, and the night breeze carried a faint scent of wood.

Echigo strode into the front hall, his usually straight back slightly bowed, his long arm extended forward, and his hand lightly supported Secretary Shen's elbow.

"I just got a phone call." His tone was cheerful, and his smile was perfectly timed and beautiful. "Let's go, Uncle Shen."

Yu Zhu stood at the door, forgetting to greet the guests, her mind still lingering on the silent eye contact between Yue Jianche and Yu Zhu when he first entered.

Manager Chen whispered a reminder from the side: "Welcome."

Yu Zhu immediately snapped out of her daze and bowed along with the ushers beside her.

Good evening, welcome to Jinyuan.