Chapter 55 - Driven by Longing
Jiang Yuan pulled the car directly to the entrance of their apartment building. He killed the engine, stepped out, and opened the rear door, leaning in to carefully gather He Mei into his arms.
In the patches of shade nearby, a cluster of elderly residents sat on low stools, their features faded by time like sun-bleached fabric. At the sight of this dramatic entrance, their eyes widened, and necks craned forward like curious geese. A low hum of whispering broke out among them.
"Whose family is that?"
"Is he carrying his wife or a daughter?"
"What happened? Can’t she walk?"
He Mei, mortified by the sudden spotlight, buried her face against Jiang Yuan’s chest, hiding from the prying eyes of the neighborhood gossips. Her mother-in-law followed closely behind, wearing a strained, polite smile but offering no answers to the barrage of unspoken questions. Clutching He Mei’s luggage, she hurried after her son into the cool shadows of the stairwell.
By the time Jiang Yuan reached the fifth floor, sweat was rolling down his forehead in heavy droplets, and his breath came in ragged hitches. He laid He Mei gently onto the bed, but even then, he didn't stop moving, fussing over the pillows and the fan. Watching him—his clothes soaked through and clinging to his frame, his face noticeably thinner—He Mei felt a sharp pang of guilt and affection.
"Sit down and rest for a moment," she said softly, her voice thin. "You haven't stopped for a second. Look at you, you’ve lost so much weight."
Jiang Yuan obeyed, sinking onto the edge of the bed. He grabbed a nearby glass and drained it in several large gulps. After a moment, he switched on the television and pressed the remote into He Mei’s hand, trying to ensure she was entertained. He sat with her, watching the screen, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. Every few minutes, his gaze would drift from the TV to her face, his brow furrowed with lingering worry.
He Mei looked back at him, reading the restlessness in his posture. "You want to go back to the site and get to work, don't you?"
"It’s not just about the work," Jiang Yuan admitted, his voice low. "With everything happening on Qi Lian’s end, I’m just not at peace leaving him there alone."
He Mei nodded slowly. "I understand. Don't think I’m so petty that I’d ignore basic loyalty. I’m fine now; I just need to lie here and rest for a few days. Go on. Qi Lian only has Qi Shuai to rely on out there. If you go back, you can help manage things."
Jiang Yuan had told her everything the night he returned. They both knew the cable factory had finally agreed to supply them, but the materials were being eked out in agonizingly small batches. Qi Lian, ever the perfectionist and now driven by a desperate timeline, had sent Qi Shuai back to the factory to personally oversee the loading, while he remained at the site, snatching whatever sleep he could before driving his pickup back and forth to transport the goods himself. He was effectively doing the work of two men.
Jiang Yuan searched her eyes, checking for any hidden resentment. "Are you sure? You’re not angry?"
He Mei turned her gaze back to the television, her lips pressing into a thin line, though a small, teasing smile tugged at the corners. "Jiang Yuan, you underestimate me. I’m not an unreasonable woman. Besides, if I’m stuck lying here, should I expect my husband to sit at home and whistle for his dinner? When this little one arrives, we’re going to need every cent we can get."
Jiang Yuan had rarely heard He Mei speak so candidly about their future. A surge of warmth rushed through him. He leaned over and gave her a loud, affectionate peck on the cheek.
***
Three days after Jiang Yuan returned to the Longcheng construction site, Qi Lian finally hauled in the last truckload of wiring. The grueling vigil at the factory was over.
Exhausted, Qi Lian tossed the keys to Jiang Yuan. "The goods are on the truck. I’m going to sleep for a bit," he muttered. Without another word, he collapsed onto a makeshift floor bed in the corner of the room, tucked his arms behind his head, and fell into a deep, heavy slumber.
Around him, the site was a cacophony of chaos. Workers hurried back and forth, shouting over the shrill, piercing whine of electric drills that seemed to bore directly into the skull. Thick, finger-width cables were dragged across the floor like heavy serpents, sometimes brushing right past his head. None of it mattered. Qi Lian slept through it all, dead to the world.
Jiang Yuan, however, couldn't bear to look at the scene for long. He signaled a few nearby workers to start unloading the truck. In just a few days, Qi Lian’s face had become gaunt, his eyes a map of broken red capillaries. Whenever Jiang Yuan had urged him to rest, Qi Lian would simply brush it off, insisting he was fine even as he juggled a thousand different problems. This sudden collapse was the result of the weight finally lifting from his shoulders; he simply couldn't hold himself upright any longer.
Watching him, Jiang Yuan found himself thinking of the Qi Lian he knew as a child. He had always been the "king of the kids," always possessing the best snacks and toys that other children couldn't even dream of.
He wasn't like Qi Qiang from the east end of the village. When Qi Qiang’s father bought him a new toy, the boy would parade it through every alleyway, clutching it tight. If you didn't look, he’d shove it in your face just to make sure you saw. A trail of envious children would follow him, but he wouldn't let a single soul touch it. "If you break it, can you afford to pay me back?" he’d sneer.
Qi Lian was the opposite. With a casual wave of his hand, he’d gather everyone around and share whatever he had. No one dared to fight over the toys in his presence, mostly because no one could beat him in a scrap. Back then, Qi Lian always wore the nicest clothes, his pockets bulging with treasures, a look of effortless confidence on his face as his little "entourage" trailed behind him.
That image had remained etched in Jiang Yuan’s mind for years. It surfaced now, unbidden, and he felt a strange, sour ache in his chest. He didn't want to admit it, but he felt a profound sense of pity for his childhood friend.
It was past eleven at night when the core team finally managed to return to their cramped hostel. Qi Lian had rented two large rooms, each packed with six bunk beds—enough to house all the workers he’d brought along. It was a room full of men in the height of summer; the air was thick with a cocktail of unidentifiable, pungent odors.
Jiang Yuan, shirtless, was hanging his freshly washed clothes on a makeshift nylon line by the window. Qi Lian lay on a lower bunk, the bed so small his legs dangled off the end. On the top bunk near the window, a young worker named Xiao Bo was scrolling through comedy clips on his phone. The volume was cranked up, and bursts of canned, wheezing laughter filled the room.
Qi Lian, staring at the ceiling with his hands behind his head, suddenly spoke. "Are you going back to Jinning? I can give you a lift."
Jiang Yuan paused, a red T-shirt mid-shake. "Back where? When?"
"Now. We’ll come back first thing in the morning."
Jiang Yuan snapped the shirt open with a loud *thwack* and looked at Qi Lian as if he’d grown a second head. "Old Qi, have you got a fever or have you just worked yourself stupid? How many hours of sleep have you had in the last week? Do you really want to throw your life away for that woman? Dammit, is she the reincarnation of Su Daji or something?"
Qi Lian knew he was right, but the longing in his chest was a physical weight. If he didn't go back to see her, he felt as though he’d left a piece of his soul behind. He had been so busy that he’d only managed a few sporadic messages. Yu Mo, for her part, had never initiated contact. She’d even declined two of his calls. A dark, inexplicable sense of foreboding was beginning to take root in his mind.
*I just need to see her once,* he thought. *Just one look, and I’ll be at peace.*
Jiang Yuan finished hanging his clothes and tossed his red plastic basin aside, marching toward Qi Lian’s bunk to deliver a proper lecture. But before he could open his mouth, Qi Lian’s phone buzzed. There was a problem with the wiring in the northwest corner of the site.
Qi Lian rolled out of bed with a sharp curse and sprinted out the door.
Left with a belly full of unvented frustration, Jiang Yuan turned his glare toward the top bunk. He stomped over and slapped the wooden bed frame with a thunderous *crack*.
"Dammit, Xiao Bo, do you know what time it is?" he barked. "During the day you’re as sluggish as a wilted leaf, but at night your eyes start glowing like a damn rat's. Turn that noise down! If you aren't going to sleep, at least let the rest of us close our eyes!"
Xiao Bo didn't dare utter a word. He scrambled to hide his phone under his pillow and rolled over, presenting only his back to his master. Jiang Yuan grumbled a few more curses as he lay down, but within seconds, his snores were rattling the windowpanes like thunder.
***
