As dawn broke, Cheng Tianyuan rose to brush his teeth, wash his face, and prepare breakfast.
The morning breeze was cool on the balcony, so he prudently grabbed an old jacket to ward off the chill. He gazed down at the bustling little market on Songming Road, already teeming with people. Tomorrow was Mid-Autumn Festival, and everyone was busy preparing for the holiday.
Luckily, it was the weekend, and both he and Xue Ling had the day off. They had planned to catch an early bus home to celebrate.
As he opened his door, he noticed the stillness across the hall; Xue Ling was evidently still asleep. She had been busy these days, working her day job and translating late into the night, often not retiring until past eleven.
Treading softly downstairs, he replaced the coal briquettes and started boiling water. He then dashed to the market to pick up vegetables for the day’s meals and hurried back.
The neighboring yard was locked up tight. The landlord’s son had taken his mother away a few days ago, leaving the adjacent property vacant and still for rent.
In the kitchen, Cheng organized the groceries, poured some hot water into a thermos, and used the rest for congee.
“Brother Yuan…” A slightly hoarse voice called from upstairs.
Surprised, Cheng quickly headed up. On Saturdays, Xue Ling would usually be awake by now. But from her voice, it sounded like she might be ill. He sprinted up the stairs, taking them three at a time.
He found Xue Ling leaning against her door, her eyes half-closed, her hair disheveled, and her face alarmingly pale.
Rushing to her side, he asked with concern, “What’s wrong?”
Xue Ling looked up, her brow furrowed in discomfort, “Brother Yuan… my throat hurts, and I feel dizzy.”
Cheng instantly concluded, “You must be sick.”
Taking her arm gently, he coaxed, “Come on, let’s get you back to bed. I’ll help you lie down.”
Dazed and weak, Xue Ling relied on his support to return to bed, murmuring about her alarm not rousing her and feeling terrible.
After ensuring she was covered up, Cheng noted her pallor.
“I’ll get you some water,” he said.
Xue Ling nodded faintly.
After cooling the water, he coaxed her to sit up and drink.
Post-water, Xue Ling felt slightly more alert and managed to brush her teeth and wash her face.
Seeing her dressed thinly, Cheng frowned, “It’s cooler in the mornings and evenings. You should wear an extra layer!”
He then draped his jacket over her shoulders.
Feeling somewhat warmer, Xue Ling smiled weakly, “Thank you…”
Cheng suggested, “When you translate by the window at night, you should wear an extra jacket too. Even if the window is slightly open, the cold breeze will sneak in.”
Xue Ling sheepishly laughed, “I was so engrossed last night I forgot… until I went to bed and realized my hands and feet were freezing.”
Cheng scolded her gently, his heart aching with concern.
“You’re working and freelancing too hard. Take care of your health.”
She was slight of build but had a formidable determination to earn. These days, apart from meals and baths, she’d spent all her time translating.
“Two days ago, she mentioned how she dared not slack off during work hours, only daring to sneak out her translation work during lunch,” he thought.
Busy with both her job and freelancing, insufficient rest, and the significant temperature difference between day and night, it was no wonder she fell ill.
Shaking her head, Xue Ling said, “I’ll be fine! I just caught a chill. If you make me some ginger tea, I’ll feel better soon.”
Cheng, still worried, suggested, “Why don’t you skip work today and rest?”
“It’s okay,” Xue Ling insisted. “It’s Saturday, and I’ve already proofread my work. I just need to submit it, and I can come back early in the afternoon. I also need to stop by the post office.”
Seeing her determination, Cheng relented and went downstairs to make ginger tea.
After drinking the tea, Xue Ling managed only half a bowl of congee before leaving for work.
Cheng cleaned the kitchen and then left for the cooperative.
The cooperative was bustling on weekends, with customers coming and going.
Though Cheng was busy, his mind wandered, unable to shake his concern for Xue Ling, looking so unwell, facing the hot sun midday, and having to walk to the post office later.
During his lunch break, he rushed to buy some cold medicine, returning drenched in sweat.
Ah Min saw him wiping away sweat and suggested, “Yuan, when you get your salary next month, consider buying a bicycle. Winter’s approaching. You can run, but your wife can’t. She has to commute to work morning and evening. Having a bike to pick her up and drop her off would be more convenient.”
Cheng nodded, “Yes, I need to think about it.”
The next day was Mid-Autumn Festival, and the boss handed out two small mooncakes to everyone, letting them off an hour early.
With the mooncakes and medicine tucked in his arms, Cheng took a bus towards the newspaper office.
The office wasn’t closed yet, and he asked the doorman if Xue Ling had left work.
“Wait here; I’ll check for you,” the doorman offered, heading inside.
Shortly after, Xue Ling emerged with her bag, still as pale and listless as ever.
Cheng approached, asking anxiously, “Still feeling rough?”
Xue Ling shook her head with a weak smile.
“I dozed off at my desk this afternoon… and got scolded by the deputy director. Thankfully, I’d finished all my work; otherwise, she’d have really torn into me.”
Glancing at her watch, she exclaimed, “Oh! It’s past four! We must hurry to the post office!”
Cheng, concerned, offered, “What’s the rush? The post office is just down the street. I’ll come with you.”
Something sparked Xue Ling’s excitement, and she pulled him along, “I’m picking up a package that Jia Xue sent! The postman came yesterday afternoon with the notice. I can collect it today!”
They hurried to the post office, fortunate to find it still open, and collected a thick, secure package.
Outside, Xue Ling eagerly found a corner to tear open the parcel, revealing a thick book with several English words on the cover but strangely bulky.
Excited, Xue Ling opened the book to reveal a stack of brand-new ten yuan notes and several fifty yuan bills!
“Brother Yuan! Look! My first translation fee has arrived!”
Cheng’s eyes widened in amazement, “So much? How much is it?”
Xue Ling, still counting with joy, replied without looking up, “Over thirty thousand words, a total of six hundred and fifty yuan!”
“That much…” Cheng smiled, envy and awkward admiration in his eyes, “It’s good to earn money through knowledge. Just over half a month… that’s impressive!”
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