Chapter Eleven: The Money Has Arrived

That in itself could be excused—after all, anyone would show some improvement after doing something for a long time. Yet in this particular area, Wang Mengzi had thoroughly proven her unrivaled ineptitude in the culinary arts; over all these years, Zhang Ye had never once eaten a proper meal at her house.

Moreover, Wang Mengzi was stubborn about her cooking. Every time Zhang Ye offered to cook or to help out, he was met with a roll of her eyes, leaving him both helpless and amused. After dinner, Zhang Ye conscientiously began cleaning up the leftovers and washing the dishes, while Wang Mengzi, fresh from her shower, stretched out comfortably on her living room sofa, flipping through TV channels with the remote.

Her job as a newspaper reporter provided her with a steady income, and the novels she published every few months brought in a decent bit of extra spending money, so a color television set was hardly a financial burden for her.

After lounging for a while, Wang Mengzi glanced over at Zhang Ye, who had just finished washing the dishes and come out of the kitchen. She asked, “All right, tell me—why did you drink today?” As an elder, she couldn’t overlook his drinking.

“No, no reason, really. I just wanted to try what it tasted like.” Zhang Ye looked at her reclining on the sofa, his face tinged with embarrassment.

It was summer, and everyone wore lighter clothes. At that moment, Wang Mengzi, freshly showered, was dressed in a loose white T-shirt and tight pink leggings. Lying on her side, her hair still damp, her face was an exquisite blend of maturity and beauty. The snug pink leggings accentuated her long legs and shapely hips, radiating an undeniable allure.

Because Zhang Ye happened to be standing just above the sofa, looking down at an angle, his eyes inadvertently fell upon the snowy whiteness of her chest. The loose T-shirt did nothing to hide her full curves, and the deep, pale cleft invited his gaze, almost swallowing it whole.

Wang Mengzi didn’t notice the blush on Zhang Ye’s face, attributing it to the alcohol he’d drunk earlier. But the strange look in his eyes and the way he shifted his legs made her realize the truth instantly. She scolded playfully, “What are you looking at?” and quickly sat up, not daring to lie down anymore.

“Just wanted to try what it tasted like?” she questioned suspiciously.

“Really, I only had a taste. It wasn’t any good, I swear I won’t drink next time.” Zhang Ye forced a grin, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Wang Mengzi rolled her eyes and gave him a flirtatious glance. “If it tasted bad, why did you drink so much?” Still, she didn’t press the matter further and instead began chatting casually with him.

Zhang Ye sat beside Wang Mengzi, taking in her delicate beauty, the faint, elegant fragrance of her body filling his nostrils, his heart fluttering with confusion and longing.

He wasn’t immune to feelings for this beautiful, mature neighbor and elder. In his adolescence, his imagination had run wild; Wang Mengzi had been the subject of his fantasies, the object upon which he’d fixated during those restless years. But after the accident left a scar on his face, everything changed. Though Wang Mengzi’s care and regard for him never waned, and her gaze never betrayed a hint of discomfort, the ease and intimacy they once shared had faded, never to return.

Some things, no matter how much you pretend not to care, are impossible to undo or forget once they have happened.

Fortunately, the present Zhang Ye had changed his own fate. The memories of his previous life were now treasured and profound—never forgotten, yet he no longer dwelled on their pain.

“It’s getting late, so I’ll head home now,” he said, noticing Wang Mengzi stifling a yawn, a trace of fatigue appearing on her face. He stood up quickly.

“All right. I’ve spent the whole day sorting through documents, I’m exhausted too,” she smiled lightly, nodding in agreement.

When Zhang Ye returned home, his parents had already finished dinner and were sitting outside under the big tree, chatting and laughing with the neighbors about daily life and family matters.

After washing up and drying off, just as Zhang Ye was about to head to his room, the phone rang.

At his house, the phone was kept locked in a small metal box—calls could be received, but to make one you needed a key. It wasn’t that they feared someone would misuse it, but more to prevent children from treating it as a toy and breaking it. Telephones were still valuable at that time.

Zhang Ye picked up the receiver and asked who was calling, when a deep voice came from the other end, “Is this Zhang Ye’s residence?”

“Director Ye, is that you? This is Zhang Ye,” he answered quickly, immediately recognizing the voice.

“Haha, that’s right. I have news about the bonus I promised to apply for you last time. Let me know when you have a moment to come and collect it. Of course, if you’re busy, I can have someone bring it over to you.” After all, Zhang Ye had saved the man’s life; forging a good relationship would benefit both sides.

“Thank you, Director Ye, but there’s no need. I have time tomorrow—how about I come by in the morning?” Zhang Ye replied hurriedly, not wanting his parents to find out. If they did, he’d never be able to explain it away.

“All right, I’ve taken care of all the formalities for you. Just come by tomorrow and pick it up,” Director Ye responded without pressing the matter.

“Thank you so much, Director Ye!” Zhang Ye said gratefully.

“No more of this ‘Director’ business. Call me Uncle Ye. If you keep calling me Director, I’ll get upset,” Ye Xiuwen said, feigning annoyance.

At that, Zhang Ye nodded quickly and responded without hesitation, his tone warm and familiar: “Yes, Uncle Ye. Thank you, Uncle Ye!”

Of course, Zhang Ye understood Ye Xiuwen’s intentions in showing him such favor. He didn’t mind; after all, knowing someone in the Public Security Bureau wouldn’t hurt, even if it brought no particular benefit. What’s more, Ye was a director—even if only a deputy—he was still an official of some standing.

“Good, that’s more like it. I still have some matters to attend to, so I’ll hang up now,” Ye said, and the line went dead.

Zhang Ye slowly put down the receiver, no longer able to conceal his excitement. His calm expression was instantly replaced by elation. He pumped his fist and leapt into the air.

The arrival of this windfall would solve his most urgent problem. Now his plans could truly begin, and he could put them into action.

The next day, after his usual morning workout, Zhang Ye skipped breakfast and headed straight for the Public Security Bureau.

Lihua County was a medium-sized county. In later years, it would develop rapidly, but at this moment, to Zhang Ye’s eyes, the old neighborhoods and low-roofed houses made him feel as though history were receding and time itself was shifting.