Chapter Eighteen: Anxiety

“What?” Wang Mengzi didn’t quite understand.

“I mean, add a line at the top: ‘All watermelons in Lihua County are free from contamination, so you can buy with confidence.’ I can’t let the watermelon vendors suffer because of me, can I?” As he spoke, Zhang Ye’s face was filled with composure and righteousness.

In truth, he was genuinely worried that this article might affect his own fruit shop—if that happened, he’d be at a complete loss.

Wang Mengzi gave Zhang Ye a curious look but nodded in agreement. For her, this was hardly a big deal.

“By the way, what name are you going to use for this article? Best not to use your real name—I’m worried…” Publishing this article would surely touch some people’s interests, and Wang Mengzi had to think ahead to protect Zhang Ye.

“Just use your name, Aunt Wang. I know you always write under your pen name. I’m just a high school student—I’m not after fame.” Zhang Ye smiled indifferently.

“All right then!” And with that, they fell silent, walking together until they reached the entrance of the newspaper office.

“Wait here, I’ll go hand the article to the editor-in-chief,” Wang Mengzi said, pointing to a bench nearby.

There was a long wooden bench in the lobby meant for visitors to rest—a simple thing, but enough to soothe a weary traveler.

Zhang Ye nodded his assent. He waited for about half an hour, but Wang Mengzi still hadn’t come out. A sudden uneasiness crept over him.

As this anxiety reached its peak, Zhang Ye could no longer sit still. He hurried upstairs.

The Lihua Morning Post was housed in a five-story office building: the first two floors belonged to a cosmetics company, and the third and fourth to the newspaper.

Zhang Ye quickly ascended to the third floor. It was already after hours; aside from a few staff working late, there was no sign of Wang Mengzi. Growing anxious, Zhang Ye grabbed a woman who looked to be in her thirties and asked, “Excuse me, where’s Wang Mengzi?”

“Mengzi? She’s already left for the day—she isn’t working late today?” Clearly, she hadn’t seen Wang Mengzi.

Zhang Ye frowned, glanced upstairs, thanked her, and strode on.

“Hey, young man, those are the executive offices—you can’t go up there!” the woman called after him.

Zhang Ye ignored her, rushing straight ahead, his heart pounding with worry and self-reproach. He knew full well that Wang Mengzi was in some danger these days, yet he’d left her alone at the paper.

He couldn’t forget that Gao Ming was the editor-in-chief here. Thinking of this, Zhang Ye grew even more anxious.

Not here—not here—not here…

He flung open office doors one by one, but Wang Mengzi was nowhere to be found. Not a trace of her in the whole building—his heart sank.

“Wait, did I miss somewhere?” In his haste, Zhang Ye had simply opened any room with a light on, not caring about the startled voices within. Now, it occurred to him he might have searched the wrong way.

“Young man, who are you looking for?” The people Zhang Ye had disturbed now came out, surprised.

They didn’t blame him for his intrusion—anyone could see the anxiety written plainly on his face. If there was an emergency, his behavior was understandable.

“Right—don’t worry, whose child are you? Did something happen?” They assumed he must be the son of one of their colleagues, here to find a parent.

“No, it’s nothing, thank you. I’ve come to the wrong floor,” Zhang Ye shook his head, hurrying to the stairs.

As noted before, the building had five floors: the first two belonged to a cosmetics company, and the third and fourth housed the Lihua Morning Post. With Wang Mengzi nowhere to be found on either, only the fifth floor remained.

The fifth floor belonged to the newspaper as well—it was the exclusive printing press of the Lihua Morning Post. Given how small Lihua County was, the press didn’t need to be large. For confidentiality, to prevent leaks before publication, the location was carefully chosen.

By setting the press above the newsroom, they could largely avoid mishaps. Anyone wanting a copy of the paper would have to get past the sharp eyes of countless staff on the third and fourth floors. So, Zhang Ye guessed Wang Mengzi must be on the fifth floor.

The fifth floor was well insulated. Zhang Ye heard nothing on the stairs, but the moment he entered the press room, the clatter of machines filled his ears.

Before him, five or six workers tended to their machines, each absorbed in their duties—a scene of steady industry. To one side, Zhang Ye finally spotted Wang Mengzi, standing with a middle-aged man in his forties or fifties.

The man was broad-shouldered, with graying hair and black-rimmed glasses—a scholarly air belied by the ink stains on his hands and face.

“Thank goodness!” Relieved not to see Gao Ming, and finding Wang Mengzi calm, Zhang Ye realized his fears were unfounded. He let out a breath and understood: this was a busy newsroom, people coming and going—whatever Gao Ming’s intentions, he wouldn’t dare act here.

Nevertheless, Zhang Ye resolved to stick to Wang Mengzi like a shadow from now on. It was summer break anyway, with Liu Wentao and Zhao Haidong watching the fruit shop—nothing could go wrong.

“Zhang Ye, what are you doing here?” As soon as the door opened, Wang Mengzi saw Zhang Ye and walked over, chiding him.

“Chief Editor, this is my brother. He’s here to see me. Don’t worry, he’s well-behaved and won’t make a fuss.” Wang Mengzi spoke nervously to the middle-aged man, giving Zhang Ye’s hand a hard pinch.

“Brother?” Zhang Ye looked at her in surprise. Since when had he been promoted to her brother?

But he was soon silenced by her glare. He couldn’t know how sensitive women were about their age—if others knew Zhang Ye was her nephew, wouldn’t that make her seem old?

“Yes, yes, brother. Nice to meet you!” Zhang Ye quickly played along. In these days, he’d perfected the art of feigned ignorance to avoid suspicion.

Besides, he quite enjoyed being led by Wang Mengzi’s hand. Though it was summer, he could still feel how soft and warm her hand was.