Городская суперсистема полного рабочего дня

Глава 1

18th spring

He had known Manzhen for many years. Eighteen years had passed—a startling realization that made him feel much older. Time flies—especially for those past middle age, where ten or eight years seem like a fleeting moment. But for young people, three or five years can feel like a lifetime. From their first meeting to their breakup, it had only been a few years, yet so much had happened in those years, as if he had experienced all the joys and sorrows of life, from birth to old age, sickness, and death.

Manzhen once asked him when he had started to like her. He naturally answered, "The first time I saw you." He said that in such a dazed state that he could believe anything, and of course, he absolutely believed it wasn't a lie. In truth, he couldn't remember exactly when he first saw her.

It was Shuhui who met her first. Shuhui was his best friend; they both studied engineering. Shuhui graduated first and started working, and after he graduated, Shuhui introduced him to the same factory for an internship. Manzhen also worked in that factory; her desk was right next to Shuhui's. Shijun went to look for Shuhui several times; he should have seen her, but he didn't remember her. Perhaps it was because he had only recently left school and was still a little reserved around women, feeling it inappropriate to look at them too much.

He worked as an intern engineer in the factory, spending all his time in the machine room alongside the workers. Just as he became proficient, he was transferred to another department. Life was tough, but the experience he gained was invaluable. His salary was extremely low, but fortunately, his family didn't depend on him for support. His home wasn't in Shanghai; he lived with his uncle, Shuhui.

This was his first time spending the Lunar New Year away from home. He hadn't had much of a fondness for the New Year in the past, because every year something unpleasant would happen at home. His family would be waiting for his father to return to pay respects to the ancestors and have the reunion dinner, but the small mansion would deliberately delay him. His mother, who usually didn't mind these things, made an exception on New Year's Eve. She said, "A family should act like a family," and that the head of the household, for the sake of the ancestors, should return home on time to take charge of everything.

In fact, they also have ancestral worship ceremonies there, because his father's concubine has been with him for many years, bearing him sons and daughters, and their family is even more prosperous than here. His father resides there most of the year. He rarely comes home, and his mother treats him with great courtesy. Only during festivals like the New Year, perhaps because of this, she inevitably feels a sense of her past, and she often can't help but argue with him. Even at her age, she still cries and sobs. This is the same every year, something Shijun has witnessed since childhood. This year is better; they're not spending the New Year at home, which saves them a lot of trouble.

But for some reason, when the year was drawing to a close, many families ate their New Year's Eve dinner early, and the scattered sounds of firecrackers could be heard everywhere, a nameless sorrow would weigh on his heart.

On New Year's Eve, Shijun had dinner at Shuhui's house and then invited Shuhui to go to the movies. They watched two movies—there was also a movie at midnight that night. Watching such a movie at midnight on New Year's Eve seemed to have a special flavor, a touch of melancholy amidst the liveliness.

Their factory only gave them three days off, and the small restaurant they usually ate at for lunch wouldn't open until after the fifth day of the Lunar New Year. On the fourth day, they went to eat together, only to find it empty. They had to walk back, the streets littered with red paper scraps from firecrackers. Passing a restaurant that was open, Shu Hui said, "Let's eat here." This place probably wouldn't officially open until after the God of Wealth was welcomed; today it was only half-open, with a half-open door, and the inside was dark. There wasn't much business during the New Year. At the first table near the entrance, a young girl sat facing outwards, wearing an old, light gray sheepskin coat. In front of her was only a cup and chopsticks; the food hadn't been served yet. She seemed bored while waiting, wearing red woolen gloves, slowly wiping her fingers down to her palms, alternating between two fingers. Upon seeing her, Shu Hui exclaimed, "Miss Gu, you're here too!" He then prepared to sit at her desk, but turning back to see Shi Jun seemingly hesitant, he said, "We're colleagues, you've met before, haven't you? This is Shen Shi Jun, this is Gu Manzhen." She had a round face, oval with a square shape—not exactly square, just well-defined. Her hair was loose and casually draped over her shoulders. Shi Jun's judgment of a woman's appearance, figure, and clothing was usually unanalytical; he simply thought she was very nice. She put her hands in her coat pockets and smiled, nodding at him. He and Shu Hui pulled out a long bench and sat down. The vermilion-lacquered bench was covered in a layer of black grease. Shi Jun, having gotten himself filthy in the machine room, didn't care, but Shu Hui, impeccably dressed in a suit, couldn't help but glance at the bench a few more times before sitting down.

Just then, the waiter came over, two teacups tucked between his fingers, and placed them on the table. Shu Hui saw this and frowned repeatedly, saying, "This place won't do, it's too dirty!" The waiter poured them two cups of tea, and they each ordered a meal. Shu Hui suddenly remembered something and said, "Hey, bring me two pieces of paper to wipe the chopsticks!"

The waiter had already gone far away and hadn't heard. Manzhen then said, "Just rinse them in the teacup; I doubt you'll actually drink this tea." Saying this, she took the chopsticks in front of him, rinsed them in the teacup, shook them to dry them, and then placed them on the teacup. She then took Shijun's chopsticks as well. Shijun quickly bowed and smiled, saying, "I can do it myself, I can do it myself!" He didn't look at anyone, just smiled. Shijun took the chopsticks and placed them back on the table. After putting them down, a thought suddenly occurred to him: the table was so greasy; putting them down like this meant the chopsticks had been washed for nothing. He seemed so nonchalant, while the fact that she washed his chopsticks made him seem like she was being nosy, making her feel overly attentive. Thinking this, he quickly picked up the chopsticks again and, imitating her, placed them neatly on the teacup, carefully aligning the tips. Actually, if the chopsticks were dirty, they were already dirty; wasn't this just a cover-up? He inexplicably felt a little embarrassed, so he casually rinsed the spoon in the teacup as well. Just then, the waiter was serving dishes, including a bowl of clam soup. Shijun scooped a spoonful and drank it, then laughed, "Eating clams during the New Year is probably a good omen—it's like a gold ingot." Shuhui said, "Clams are gold ingots, taro are gold ingots, dumplings and egg dumplings are gold ingots, even green plums and tea eggs are gold ingots—I say we Chinese are really greedy; everything looks like a gold ingot to us." Manzhen laughed, "Northerners call it a 'money string.' They're really obsessed with money!" Shijun laughed, "Miss Gu, are you from the North?" Manzhen smiled and shook her head, saying, "My mother is from the North." Shijun said, "Then you're half a Northerner." Shuhui said, "That little restaurant we often go to is actually a Northern restaurant, it's just across the street. Have you been there? It's quite nice." Manzhen said, "I haven't been." Shuhui said, "Let's go together tomorrow."

This place is terrible. It's too dirty!

From that day on, the three of them always ate together; when they ate together, there were three dishes and a soup, making the meals less monotonous. They became so familiar with each other that they would sometimes eat roasted sweet potatoes on the street for a meal. However, despite their familiarity, their conversations were limited to Shuhui and Manzhen discussing matters in the office.

Shu Hui's relationship with her seemed to be limited to office hours. Outside the office, Shu Hui neither sought her out nor even mentioned her name often. Once, when he was discussing personnel disputes at the factory with Shi Jun, Shi Jun said, "You're lucky; at least the two people in your room get along." Shu Hui simply hummed indifferently and said, "Manzhen is a good person. Very straightforward." Shi Jun didn't elaborate, otherwise it would seem as if he had developed an interest in Manzhen and would later make a playful remark to Shu Hui.

On another occasion, during a casual conversation, Shuhui suddenly mentioned, "Manzhen was talking about you to me today." Shijun was taken aback for a moment before laughing and asking, "What did she say about me?"

Shu Hui laughed and said, "She said that when I'm with you, I'm always the only one who gets to talk. I told her that people say I bully you, and even my own mother stands up for you. Actually, it's just a matter of personality; you just happen to be the kind of person who plays the supporting role in comedies." Shi Jun laughed and said, "How is being a supporting role?" Shu Hui said, "Not so much, except that people often tap him on the head with the bone of a fan."

At this point, he chuckled to himself. He continued, "I know you really don't mind. That's one of your strengths. I'm the same way; people can make fun of me all they want. I'm not the kind of person who only allows others to make fun of me, but not others to make fun of him..." Once Shuhui started talking about himself, he couldn't stop. Perhaps a smart and handsome person is bound to have a bit of "narcissism." He just kept going on and on about the complexities of his own personality, while Shijun sat to the side, still thinking about how Manzhen had described him.

Their factory was located in the suburbs. Although there were a few dilapidated streets nearby, the fields were just a short walk away. Spring had arrived, and the countryside was already covered in a light green, but the weather was still just as cold. That day, Shijun finished work at noon, and as usual, quickly washed his hands before going to the general office to find Shuhui. Shuhui happened to be out of the room; only Manzhen was sitting at her desk organizing documents. Even indoors, she was wearing a small red and blue checkered scarf over a dark blue cloth robe, making her look like a primary school girl. The blue cloth robe had been washed until the velvet had turned grayish-white, but the color had a gentle and elegant feel, like the dark blue cover of a thread-bound book.

Shi Jun smiled and asked, "Where's Shu Hui?" Man Zhen tilted her head slightly toward the manager's office and whispered, "He always likes to call you in five minutes before the end of the workday, saying he has some important business to give you. I guess all bosses are like that." Shi Jun nodded with a smile. He leaned against Shu Hui's desk, idly flipping through the calendar hanging on the wall, and said, "Let me see when the Beginning of Spring is." Man Zhen said, "The Beginning of Spring has already passed." Shi Jun said, "Then why is it still so cold?" He continued to flip through the calendar pages one by one, saying, "The calendars printed now are more economical; only Sunday is red. I prefer the calendars we had when we were kids; Sunday was red, and Saturday was green. When I tore off a page and saw the bright green words on Saturday, I felt really happy." Man Zhen smiled and said, "That's right. When we were in school, Saturday was even happier than Sunday. Even though Sunday was red, it already had a touch of 'endless sunset' to it."

Just then, Shuhui came in and immediately called out to Manzhen, "Didn't I tell you to leave first?" Manzhen smiled and asked, "What are you busy with?" Shuhui replied, "After we eat, we're going to find a nice spot to take some photos. I borrowed a camera here." Manzhen said, "In this cold weather, the photos won't look good with red noses and red eyes." Shuhui gestured towards Shijun and said, "Look, it's all for him. His mother wrote a letter asking him to send a photo. I said someone must be trying to arrange a marriage for him." Shijun blushed and said, "What? I know my mother doesn't care about anything else, she just keeps nagging that I must have lost weight. No matter what I say, she doesn't believe me and insists on a photo as proof." Shuhui looked him over and said, "You're not thin, but you look a bit dirty. If the old lady sees you, she'll think you're working in a coal mine, and she'll still be worried about you." Shijun looked down at his work clothes. Manzhen chuckled, "Get a towel to wipe it off, I have one here." Shijun quickly replied, "No, no, no need. These black stains are machine oil; they won't come off with a towel." He picked out a wad of scrap paper from the wastepaper basket and vigorously rubbed it on his trouser leg. Manzhen said, "This won't do." She still took a neatly folded towel from the drawer, soaked it in the leftover cup of hot water from Shuhui, and handed it to him. Shijun had no choice but to take it. He wiped it, and a large black stain appeared on the snow-white towel. He felt genuinely guilty.

Shu Hui stood by the window, glancing at the sky. "The sun's not very reliable today," he said. "I wonder if we'll be able to get the shots." As he spoke, he pulled a comb from his suit pocket, combed his hair in front of the window, loosened his tie, and stretched his neck. Manzhen, seeing his self-pitying expression, couldn't help but smile. Shu Hui then glanced at his profile, urging Shijun, "Are you done yet?" Manzhen said to Shijun, "You still have a dark spot on your face." "No, here—" she pulled a small mirror from her purse and handed it to him to look at himself. Shu Hui laughed, "Hey, Manzhen, do you have any lipstick?"

"Let him use it for a bit." Chatting and laughing, he took the mirror from Shijun and looked at himself.

The three of them went out to eat together. To save time, they each ordered a bowl of noodles, ate quickly, and then headed towards the outskirts of town. Shu Hui said that this area was all barren fields, too bland, but he remembered there were two large willow trees further on, which he thought would be interesting. However, as they walked, they couldn't seem to reach their destination. Shi Jun, seeing that Man Zhen seemed to be falling behind, said, "Aren't we walking too fast?" Shu Hui slowed his pace, but the weather was definitely not suitable for a stroll. Driven by the cold, they unconsciously quickened their pace again, walking faster and faster. They were all panting, facing the wind, and their conversations were broken and intermittent. Man Zhen tried her best to hold back her flying hair, glanced at their heads, and laughed, "Aren't your ears cold with them sticking out?" Shu Hui replied, "Of course they are." Man Zhen laughed, "I often think that if I were a man, I would be catching a cold all the time in winter."

The two willow trees had already sprouted tender golden buds. They took several photos under the trees. One of them was of Shuhui and Manzhen standing together, taken by Shijun. Her light gray sheepskin coat was billowing in the wind, and she covered her mouth with one hand. Her red woolen gloves made her face look very pale.

The sunlight that day was always weak. Before she'd even finished shooting a roll of film, the weather changed. She hurried on, and halfway there, a light spring snow began to fall. It started snowing, then turned into rain. Passing a small shop, Manzhen saw many oil-paper umbrellas hanging inside; she wanted to buy one. Opening them, she saw some in blue and green, others with floral designs. One had a bunch of purple grapes painted on it; she picked it up and looked at it, then at another without flowers, unable to decide. Shuhui said women were always like that when they bought things. Later, Shijun laughed and said, "The one without flowers is better," and she immediately bought the one without flowers. Shuhui said, "The price doesn't seem any cheaper than in the city. Are they trying to rip us off?" Manzhen pointed the tip of the umbrella to the sign hanging above and laughed, "Doesn't it say 'Honest and fair dealing'? Forget it."

Walking down the street, Manzhen suddenly laughed, "Oh dear, I've lost one of my gloves." Shuhui said, "You must have lost it at that shop." They went back to the shop and asked, but the shopkeeper said they hadn't seen it. Manzhen said, "I wasn't wearing gloves when I was counting money earlier—so I must have lost it while taking pictures."

Shijun said, "Let's go back and look for it." It was almost time for work, and everyone was eager to get back to the factory. Manzhen said, "Never mind, never mind, it's just for a glove!" She said this, but there was a hint of regret in her voice. Manzhen was somewhat petty and stingy in this respect, but years later, Shijun still cherished those qualities. Manzhen had this trait: once she owned something, she always thought it was the best thing in the world, and the more she owned it, the better it seemed.

...He knew, because he had once belonged to her.

That day, on his way back to the factory from the outskirts, the rain continued to fall. By the time work ended at five o'clock in the afternoon, it was already dark. He didn't know what kind of hazy state of mind compelled him to brave the rain and head back to the outskirts. The muddy field ridges were very difficult to walk on; every step was slippery. There were also those small tiled huts for storing coffins, like doghouses, nestled low in the ridges. He hadn't noticed them during the day, but seeing them in the dim, rainy night evoked a strange feeling. All around was quiet, except for the barking of dogs. He didn't encounter a single person along the way, except once, when he saw someone carrying a lantern and a large apricot-yellow umbrella crossing the river from the opposite bank. After walking for quite some time, he finally found the two large willow trees. He shone his flashlight from afar, and his light illuminated a red glove under the trees.

His heart was initially filled with joy. He walked over, bent down, picked it up, shone his flashlight on it, and examined it in his hand, but then hesitated. How could he explain giving it to her tomorrow? Wouldn't it seem strange, having braved the rain and walked so far just to find this glove for her? His original intention was simply to apologize; it was because he needed to take photos, otherwise she wouldn't have lost it. But even he felt this reason wasn't sufficient. So how could he say it? He truly regretted coming here, but since he was already here, and the item had been found, he couldn't very well just leave it lying on the ground again. He lightly dusted off the dirt and sand, then stuffed it into his bag. Having taken it, he couldn't simply not return it. Keeping it for himself would be even more ridiculous.

The next day at noon, he went upstairs to the office. Fortunately, Shuhui had just been called in by the manager again. Shijun took out the muddy glove from his pocket. He could have said this or that, but he didn't say a word, simply placing it in front of her. If there was any expression on his face, it was one of grievance, because he really hadn't thought of it at first; otherwise, he wouldn't have brought trouble upon himself and put himself in such an awkward situation.

Manzhen paused for a moment, picked up the glove and looked at it, then said, "Huh?...

"Oh dear, you went again yesterday? Such a long way—and it was raining—" Just then, Shuhui came in. Seeing that Shijun seemed reluctant to talk about it, she mechanically crumpled the red glove into a ball, held it in her hand, and then casually stuffed it into her coat pocket. Although her movements were very composed, her face slowly turned red. She realized something was wrong; her face was burning, showing how hot she had been. She might not have seen it, but others must have. Thinking this, she felt anxious, and her face turned red again.

Although she was inexplicably embarrassed at the time, things were alright afterwards. When they ate together, her and Shijun's attitudes were no different from usual. The spring weather was unpredictable, with sudden changes in temperature, and many people caught colds. One day, Manzhen also fell ill and called the factory to ask Shuhui to ask for a day off for her. That afternoon, Shuhui and Shijun returned home, and Shijun said, "Should we go see her?" Shuhui replied, "Hmm."

"She seems quite ill. She only came yesterday because she was struggling," Shi Jun said. "Do you know her home address?" Shu Hui hesitated and said, "I know it, but I've never been there. You've known her for days, and you've never heard her mention her home, have you? She's practically without any mystery, except perhaps for this one thing." Shi Jun found this somewhat offensive. Was it because he thought she was too ordinary and lacked mystery, or because he suspected she had some secret? It was hard to say, but it aroused a double sense of unease. Shi Jun immediately said, "It's not really mysterious. Maybe she has a large family and no room to entertain guests; maybe her family still holds old-fashioned views and doesn't approve of her making friends outside, so she doesn't feel comfortable inviting people to her home."

Shu Hui nodded and said, "Whether they welcome me or not, I have to go."

"I need to go ask her for the key because I need to check the drafts of two letters, which she locked in her drawer." Shi Jun said, "Then go ahead. But... isn't it too late to go to someone's house at this hour?" Dinner was already being cooked in the kitchen, and the loud "sizzling" sounds of stir-frying vegetables hitting the pan could be heard upstairs.

Shuhui raised his hand to look at his watch, when he suddenly heard his mother call from the kitchen, "Shuhui! Someone is looking for you!"

Shu Hui ran downstairs and saw a child he didn't recognize. Just as he was wondering what was going on, the child held up a bunch of keys and handed them to him, saying, "My sister asked me to bring these; they're the keys to her desk." Shu Hui smiled and said, "Oh, you're Manzhen's brother? How is she? Is she feeling any better?" The child replied, "She said she's feeling better and can come tomorrow." He looked no more than seven or eight years old, yet he was very mature. After explaining everything, he turned and left, refusing even when Shu Hui's mother offered him candy.

Shuhui twirled the bunch of keys in her hand, then looked up and saw Shijun standing at the top of the stairs. She smiled and said, "She must have been worried we'd come, so she brought the keys beforehand." Shijun laughed, "Why are you being so paranoid today?" Shuhui said, "It's not that I'm paranoid, but that child's demeanor just now seemed to suggest he'd been trained not to talk to strangers. —Could he be her brother?" Shijun couldn't help but become a little impatient, laughing, "He looks a lot like her!" Shuhui laughed: "Then maybe he's her son?" She added, "Women who work are always addressed as 'Miss So-and-so,' regardless of whether they're married or not." Shijun laughed: "That's true, but at least… she's very young, that's obvious." A woman's age—it's hard to say!

Shuhui always talks about "women" as if he has a wealth of experience. In fact, Shijun heard him make similar pronouncements when he first entered university, and at that time, Shijun knew he did have a girlfriend, a classmate named Yao Zhen. When he talked about "women," "women" was simply a euphemism for Yao Zhen. Now, perhaps he has more than one Yao Zhen, but he still relies more on theory than practice. Shijun knows his character very well.

What he said about Manzhen today was just something he said as it came to mind, and he had absolutely no malicious intent. Shijun was not unaware of this, but he still found it very grating.

In all the years I've known him, I've never been this angry with him.

That night, Shijun made an excuse to write a letter home and avoided talking to Shuhui. Shuhui saw him sitting under the lamp, staring blankly at the paper, and assumed that he was preoccupied because of family disputes.

Eighteen Springs

When Manzhen recovered and returned to the office, it happened that someone invited him to dinner that day—a colleague had lost a bet with him and was treating him to Western food.