Gloves - Chapter 22

“President Shang is a busy person. I don’t believe her work is half as important as yours. Maybe you just happened to run into me today after your late shift. Who knows, maybe you’ll be pulling an all-nighter tomorrow. Do you have any control over me?” Qi Ruan flicked away the cigarette ash in her hand, lowered her head to stomp on it with her foot, and shook the strands of hair from her forehead, showing complete disregard for the other person.

Shang Zhuoxi slowly lowered her hand that was covering her nose. She couldn’t be bothered to waste her time arguing with Qi Ruan.

“Thank you for safely bringing my girlfriend home. Director Qi, please leave.” I may not have control over you, but I can certainly have control over her.

Watching Shang Zhuoxi’s departing figure, Qi Ruan clenched her fist in frustration and slammed it onto the car, while a competitive fire ignited within her.

Hearing the sound of the door closing, An Chujie couldn’t help but feel afraid. With a thud, Shang Zhuoxi reached from behind and held the cabinet, trapping An Chujie inside while she was putting away clothes.

“Do you enjoy talking to people like this?” Shang Zhuoxi remembered seeing Tu Yi behave this way once at the hospital.

An Chujie’s hands holding the clothes were trembling, and her body became stiff. She was afraid that even the slightest movement would trigger that landmine.

“Why aren’t you speaking?” Shang Zhuoxi leaned closer, releasing one hand to tuck the hair behind An Chujie’s ear.

“Turn around.” Her voice pressed down on An Chujie, making it impossible for her to refuse. After turning around, An Chujie faced a weary face. She wanted to reach out and touch it, but she didn’t dare.

“Lie down on the bed,” Shang Zhuoxi instructed, letting go of her hand to make space. An Chujie obediently complied.

Shang Zhuoxi gently grasped her left leg by the ankle and squeezed, causing An Chujie to wince in pain.

“Does it hurt like this?” Shang Zhuoxi asked, and An Chujie nodded.

Shang Zhuoxi lifted her leg and placed it on her forearm, allowing it to naturally hang down.

“Does it still hurt like this?”

An Chujie shook her head.

The white gloves moved back to An Chujie’s ankle, shaking it up and down.

“… It hurts a lot,” An Chujie gasped for breath.

Shang Zhuoxi released her, her face devoid of any expression as she said, “In a couple of days, I’ll take you to the hospital for an examination to see what’s going on. Go to sleep.”

An Chujie couldn’t believe it. Was she really asking her to sleep with her?

Shang Zhuoxi took off her coat and hung it on the coat rack, adding, “You can go to the guest room.”

“Oh, okay,” An Chujie obediently got off her own bed and walked to the other side. But just as she was about to leave the room, she was pulled back into Shang Zhuoxi’s embrace.

“You’re not allowed to go out alone with that Director Qi, you know? Just stay away from her, or I won’t be happy,” Shang Zhuoxi’s light blue eyes held no hint of aggression.

An Chujie looked at Shang Zhuoxi’s rare gentle gaze and no longer questioned why. She nodded obediently and went to the guest room. An Chujie looked at her left leg and sarcastically chuckled at herself. She couldn’t believe she didn’t know what was going on.

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[An Chujie’s Memory]
That summer after graduation was the most painful period of my life.

I practically spent every day lying on Shang Zhuoxi’s hospital bed or operating table. Sometimes, I would wake up after being under general anesthesia, only to see Shang Zhuoxi approaching with a syringe. Then, there would be local anesthesia. Occasionally, Shang Zhuoxi didn’t time it properly, and after the anesthetic wore off, the pain would roar like a wild beast trapped in a cage for years. I even felt like my organs were about to burst. I watched as she stitched me up, needle by needle, but my heart was shattered, and I couldn’t even find the fragments.

Later on, she started gradually feeding me. At first, I resisted it. I didn’t want anything Shang Zhuoxi tried to feed me. I either pretended to eat and then vomited it out, wanting to stain her. She was afraid I would move around, so my limbs were still under the effects of anesthesia.

I remember Shang Zhuoxi’s eyes were red every day. If I didn’t eat, she wouldn’t eat either. So we tortured each other in this way. But I was so pathetic. Seeing her sad face made me feel even worse. I could feel my energy being worn down day by day, and there wasn’t much left. She performed surgery on me, and I didn’t die. I couldn’t starve myself to death. So I compromised.

This summer, the rain seemed unusually heavy. I could hear the sound of raindrops, big and small, every day. They fell on the ground and echoed in my heart, just like my tears.

Finally, Shang Zhuoxi removed the stitches from my body, and I sat up. At that moment, all I wanted was to leave this dreadful place and go home. But my muscles had been resting for half a month, and I couldn’t even stand properly…

During that time, Shang Zhuoxi was especially kind to me. I knew it was because she felt guilty.

Later, when Shang Zhuoxi wasn’t paying attention, I ran back home, drenched in the rain, with layers of gauze wrapped around my body.

When I arrived home, it was no longer the home I knew.

As I opened the door, I was not greeted by the nanny or the housekeeper. It seemed like they were all gone. The empty house echoed with the cries of my stepmother. She was sobbing, holding onto my brother, wiping away her tears. But as soon as I walked in, her crying turned into furious cursing. I stood at the doorway, leaning against the door frame, catching my breath. She gritted her teeth and cursed my father, saying that he had deceived the two of them and left them behind… I can’t remember exactly what she said, but the pain in my abdomen was crystal clear.

In short, my father never came back. There was no trace of him, no messages left behind. His phone was unreachable. I had no idea what had happened. They kicked me out, saying that this house I had grown up in belonged to them… I was so exhausted that I collapsed onto my own bed and fell asleep.

To be honest, my concept of family wasn’t very deep. I received very little warmth from that place I called home. I didn’t know where my biological mother was, why she gave birth to me and then abandoned me. And my father, besides giving me money, had nothing else to offer.

However, all the money I had saved over the past ten years, piled up in a small suitcase that my father had given me, finally came in handy. It covered all my expenses during my college years.

The person who made me feel warmth in a foreign land was Yi Heng. I never expected that he would come to Toronto with me.

One of life’s greatest joys is meeting familiar faces in a foreign land, even though Yi Heng and I didn’t attend the same university.

He took good care of me, although he himself was a big boy who needed someone to take care of him. I wasn’t the little princess who could have anything she wanted, carried around by servants and housekeepers anymore. I started to realize the importance of money.

In my spare time, I would give piano lessons and take on small commercial performances. Combined with the money my father had given me, I managed to save a small amount over the four years. However, in the end, my stepmother took away all of my savings. She had a liking for all kinds of gambling, and I couldn’t understand how she could shamelessly ask me for money. It made no sense logically, but emotionally, I still gave her everything I had.

Whenever I had free time, I would visit Shang Zhuoxi’s hometown and imagine what little Zhuoxi looked like. She said she had a beautiful mother, and that seeing me reminded her of that gorgeous and gentle woman. But all I saw in front of me was a leveled grassland. I would go to any place Shang Zhuoxi had mentioned, walk the paths she had walked, and try to feel the emotions she must have felt at that time.

Even though I don’t understand why she treated me that way, and even though I hate how she treated herself, I still miss her so much. I keep thinking about her good qualities over and over again, hoping that it will lessen my hatred towards her. But some memories are unavoidable. I often find myself crying unintentionally, and Yi Heng would hold me tightly in his arms. Even though his embrace is warm and his grip on my arm is strong, I still feel empty inside.

In my final year in Toronto, Yi Heng accompanied me. He said he didn’t understand why I always liked walking on this small street. I kicked the maple leaves under my feet and looked up to see a woman in a black coat and white gloves in the distance. She was walking quickly, with her back towards us. She looked so much like Shang Zhuoxi. She walked fast and quickly crossed the road towards the grassy lawn. She must be Shang Zhuoxi. I trusted my eyes and thoughts, so I immediately chased after that distant figure. But suddenly, out of nowhere, a car appeared. Before my vision could focus, my hand was forcefully pulled back, causing me to lose my balance and fall backwards. Then, the tires of the car mercilessly ran over my left foot… The excruciating pain of broken bones made it hard for me to breathe. I could hear Yi Heng shouting my name and the driver of the car getting out in a panic, slurring with the smell of alcohol on his breath, his voice becoming fainter and fainter… In the end, it was like I saw those white gloves…

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Yi Heng waited outside the recording studio, quietly anticipating An Chujie’s presence. Her piano playing had a way of calming his mind.

“Young man, are you her boyfriend?” a young producer approached and asked, pointing towards the woman inside the glass window.

Yi Heng smiled, knowing that he wasn’t officially in that role yet, but perhaps it would happen soon.

“I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before. What do you do?” the producer felt a sense of familiarity with the hat-wearing man.

“Really? I used to play in underground bands as a guitarist and lead singer,” Yi Heng gestured with his hands.

“Oh! That’s why. I must have seen you at a music festival,” the producer exclaimed.

“I don’t play anymore. It’s a dead-end path,” Yi Heng sighed, pursing his lips and absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, it’s tough to support a woman with this kind of band, especially like her,” the producer glanced up at the glass window.

“She’s actually recording it again. She has such high standards for herself, making so many changes. Do you want me to get you a cup of hot water? It’s windy in the corridor,” the kind-hearted producer offered.

“No need, thanks,” Yi Heng replied, continuing to keep his hands in the pockets of his thick clothes, pursing his lips in silence. The producer chatted with him for a while before returning to work.

“Yi Heng? Have you been waiting for long?” An Chujie exclaimed as she stepped out, realizing that Yi Heng had been sitting outside.

“No, just got here,” Yi Heng replied with a relaxed smile, not wanting her to feel any hint of apology.

A gust of wind easily swept away the warmth that An Chujie had built up during the recording session. Yi Heng noticed her continuously opening and closing her fingers, a sign that she was feeling cold. Without hesitation, he reached out and took her hand, gently guiding it into the warmth of his big pocket.

The warmth spread through their palms, driving away a large part of the chill that had settled in An Chujie. However, this warmth also brought tears to her eyes. She withdrew her hand from that comforting place, realizing that it was time to confront their issues.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Yi Heng asked with concern, a sense of unease creeping over him.

From beginning to end, everything Yi Heng did for An Chujie was driven by friendship or gratitude. If he wanted to hold her, she allowed it. If he wanted to kiss her cheek, she let him. She even tolerated his endearing nicknames for her. However, she hadn’t realized that this “kindness” of hers had actually caused harm to both of them. It kept Yi Heng, who loved her, clinging to a hope that shouldn’t exist, and it left Shang Zhuoxi, whom she loved, in a constant state of insecurity and anxiety.