6 Responsibility

Wen Dong casually chose a pharmacy that offered free delivery to buy some safflower oil, and also ordered some band-aids and floral water. While waiting for the delivery person, she dried her hair and made herself a bowl of oatmeal, sitting at a small one-square-meter dining table, eating and watching a variety show.

Afterwards, she washed the dishes, tidied the fridge, took the bedsheets out of the washing machine, glanced outside at the weather, guessing it wouldn’t rain, grabbed some clothespins, and went to knock on Zhang Xingxu’s door.

It was strange—he hadn’t come out at all since going in.

“If you want to clean, you could—”

Zhang Xingxu opened the door and noticed the items in her hands. “What’s up?”

Wen Dong hesitated slightly; he was so tall that her gaze naturally slid up to his shoulders.

He had taken off his windbreaker and was now wearing a light-colored sweatshirt.

Though it was already early spring, the morning air still held a chill. Wen Dong blinked, forgetting her purpose for a moment, and blurted out, “Aren’t you cold?”

“Not really,” Zhang Xingxu replied somewhat puzzled. “Did you need something?”

“Oh, yes.” Wen Dong turned sideways and pointed to the pale pink plastic bucket in the living room. “I washed the bedsheets. Could you help me carry them up to the rooftop?”

She lifted her reddened right leg. “It’s a bit inconvenient for me…”

Zhang Xingxu glanced at her knee but didn’t refuse. He grabbed the bucket and went up to the eighth floor.

The rooftop was open-air, with a ring of white foam boxes planted with vegetables along the edge. However, they were all seedlings, except for a box of scallions that looked lush and green.

On the other side were several pots of flowers. The unkempt roses sprawled wildly, while bougainvillea bloomed with the first vibrant magenta of early spring in a corner, adding a touch of vitality to the misty, pale morning.

Wen Dong pointed at the flowers with curiosity. “Look, the flowers are about to bloom.”

Zhang Xingxu looked over.

Wen Dong went on, “I used to think these flowers were ugly—the petals looked just like the leaves, they had no fragrance, and their colors were so dull. But you know—” she turned to him, “in my second year living here, they suddenly bloomed spectacularly, like a waterfall.”

She spread her arms wide, “The whole wall was covered with flowers. It was so beautiful.”

Zhang Xingxu withdrew his gaze, carried the bucket to the clothesline, and said lightly, “I’m leaving now.”

“Hey, wait!” Wen Dong bounced over. “Since you’ve carried it all the way here, could you help me hang them up?”

Zhang Xingxu looked at her.

He wondered how she made asking for help sound so natural, especially since they barely knew each other.

Wen Dong saw he wasn’t responding and waved her hand. “What’s wrong?”

Without waiting for his answer, she split her clothespins in half, handed some to him, bent down to pick up the bedsheet, grabbed two corners, and shook it. “Here, just toss it over. The line’s so high—I always had to stand on a stool before.”

Zhang Xingxu took the sheet from her, ducked under the line, and hung it up.

Within seconds, the twisted, wet bedsheet stretched out on the clothesline, creating a barrier between the two of them.

Wen Dong smoothed out the folds and heard Zhang Xingxu ask, “Where’s your stool?”

“At home,” Wen Dong tilted her head, looking at him. “Why?”

Zhang Xingxu was about to say something but changed his mind, simply replying, “Nothing,” ending the topic.

He clipped the edges securely and went back to the bucket to get the duvet cover.

When he bent down, his gaze met Wen Dong’s inspecting eyes.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, sensing something, and she said bluntly, “Are you thinking that since I knew I needed a stool, why didn’t I bring it up?”

Zhang Xingxu hummed, imitating her shaking the sheet, and admitted, “You were already scheming to get me to help when you were downstairs.”

Wen Dong grabbed his arm. “We live in the same building now, it’s just helping each other. If you ever need help, you can ask me too.”

She said it as confidently as if they shared a bed.

Zhang Xingxu looked away, took the sheet to the other side, and left behind a faint, “I don’t.”

Wen Dong followed him. “Don’t have what? No difficulties?”

Zhang Xingxu raised his hand, tossing the sheet to the other side, nearly hitting Wen Dong in the face, making her stumble back two steps.

He didn’t answer, but his attitude was clear.

The sheet sagged over the line, revealing Wen Dong’s head.

Zhang Xingxu reached out over the barrier. “Clips.”

Wen Dong handed them all to him and scrunched up her nose with mock annoyance. “When will you ever beg me?”

Suddenly, Zhang Xingxu smiled—a faint, elusive smile like mist blurring mountain colors, impossible to grasp.

Wen Dong almost thought she had imagined it.

He said, “Then I’ll wait.”

Without taking the bucket behind her, he turned and left.

Not long after, the delivery man brought the medicine.

After applying the ointment, the whole room smelled strongly, and her knee burned fiercely, as if on fire.

Coincidentally, Zhang Xingxu came out and asked where the towel was.

Wen Dong pointed to the second shelf on the right in the entryway storage cabinet.

She sniffed, frowned, and stretched her leg further. “Why does this medicine smell so strong? And it still hurts.”

Zhang Xingxu took out a towel and stood up. “Just two or three drops are enough. How much did you put on?”

Wen Dong was stunned. “I covered it all.”

Zhang Xingxu was speechless.

Ten minutes later, Wen Dong was clutching her leg, wailing, “Zhang Xingxu!! What rotten idea did you have? My leg feels like it’s on fire!”

“I’m really going to call the police!”

Zhang Xingxu came out of the bedroom with a wet towel, passed through the living room, and washed it off outside the bathroom.

Wen Dong’s eyes welled with tears from the pain as she gritted her teeth, holding the safflower oil instructions. “Zhang, why did you tell me there’s chili oil in this medicine?”

The water stopped. Zhang Xingxu frowned faintly and walked over. “Let me see.”

Next moment—

Zhang Xingxu said, “This isn’t the brand you wanted. You bought the wrong one.”

He handed the instructions back.

Wen Dong stared incredulously. “Why did you just do that? Shouldn’t you be trying to fix the problem now?”

Zhang Xingxu lowered his eyes. Her knee was redder than at first glance, worse than she thought.

“Wash it off, apply a wet wipe.”

Wen Dong asked, “And then?”

Zhang Xingxu glanced at his watch. “It’s almost mealtime.”

???

Wen Dong’s tone sharpened, staring intently. “And then?”

Zhang Xingxu met her gaze calmly, without the slightest embarrassment. “You said yesterday that if I said goodbye, you’d treat me to a meal.”

?!

Is he even human?

Is he really human!!!

Wen Dong raged silently countless times in her mind before lifting her head and offering a smile she thought was friendly. “So, what do you want to eat?”

Zhang Xingxu: “You decide.”

Wen Dong bit her lip secretly but smiled wider.

Just a little longer, after all, she’d just taken 24,000 yuan from him this morning.

That was a full 24,000! Counting the bills would take 240 flicks.

Even for the sake of that big sum, she had to hold back.

What was a little pain?

A woman mustn’t say no!

At worst, she’d treat herself to a nice meal.

Yes! A nice meal!

Wen Dong got up from the sofa. “Wait for me to change; we’ll eat out.”

Ten minutes later, she changed into a light green sweatshirt and wore a white denim jacket on top.

Zhang Xingxu waited outside the door. She walked to the entrance, checked herself in the mirror, parted her hair into two strands, and tied them into a low bun, magically adding color.

She wore two fluffy pink balls on her earlobes, and her bag changed to a Kirby-themed one.

After putting on lipstick, she pursed her lips, ready to leave. Zhang Xingxu looked over. “Keys.”

Wen Dong then noticed the keys on the shoe cabinet, grabbed them, and slipped them into her bag.

The residential building was old, with few floors and no elevator—just stairs.

Wen Dong’s knee ached faintly, so she walked slowly.

Going downstairs, she grabbed Zhang Xingxu’s arm, wary: “Don’t try to leave me behind.”

Zhang Xingxu didn’t pull away and let her hold on all the way.

“Can you eat spicy food?” she asked as they jumped down the last step.

“Moderately,” he answered.

“Then let’s go to a restaurant together.”

Zhang Xingxu agreed.

Wen Dong led him to the bus stop and pointed to the nearby subway sign. “Our neighborhood is a bit remote, but the bus and subway stations are close, so it’s convenient to go anywhere.”

Zhang Xingxu’s attention wasn’t on that. He glanced at her white skirt and asked, “How far is the restaurant?”

“Not far,” Wen Dong said. “Bus 407, three stops straight. Get off and turn the corner; it’s right there.”

“Then take a taxi.”

Just as he spoke, he hailed a taxi that had just dropped someone off. The driver stuck his head out: “Where to?”

Zhang Xingxu looked at Wen Dong; she said, “Furong Street.”

She lowered her voice: “You take the taxi, you pay.”

Furong Street was a mature commercial area with crisscrossing roads lined on both sides with all kinds of restaurants.

Wen Dong headed straight to her target. The staff immediately smiled upon seeing her and approached, about to speak, but she beat them to it: “Table for two.”

She tiptoed and glanced inside, “Table nine is empty; just seat us there.”

Wen Dong turned back. “You order first; I’m going next door to buy two rabbit heads.”

After a few steps, she turned back to ask, “By the way, will you eat it?”

“Forget it, wait for me to come back.”

The restaurant was moderate in size. Zhang Xingxu flipped through the menu, which featured Sichuan-style dishes.

The food culture here differed from Lecheng and Guanhua City, with a preference for spicier flavors. He wasn’t picky and just wanted something edible.

He scanned casually and asked, “What does she usually order?”

“Spicy chicken, tiger skin pork knuckle, and this jumping shrimp.”

“Start with those.”

“Got it.” The waiter quickly ticked some options on the menu. “If you want to add more later, just call me.”

Wen Dong came back with a happy expression and sat opposite Zhang Xingxu. “I’m back from the hunt.”

The rabbit head was spicy, fragrant, and coated in oily sauce, making mouths water. She pushed one box over to him. “Don’t say I’m stingy. I bought you two too.”

Zhang Xingxu’s brow furrowed slightly.

Wen Dong asked, “You don’t eat it?”

She seemed even more excited, putting on disposable gloves and eagerly picking up a rabbit head. “Come on, I’ll teach you how to gnaw it.”

Zhang Xingxu: “...”

He didn’t seem very hungry anymore.

Wen Dong thought he was concerned about appearances and encouraged him as she cracked open the rabbit head’s jaws. “No one’s watching in real life. Everyone’s just eating their own food; no one cares about you.”

Zhang Xingxu got up. “I’m going to buy two bottles of water.”

Wen Dong was munching on her rabbit head and didn’t stop him.

When he returned, Wen Dong had already finished hers, while his was neatly placed in front of him. The dishes they ordered had all arrived.

Wen Dong held her chopsticks, poking the bottom of her bowl, and looked up at him with a faint, “I’ve been waiting for you so long” kind of resentment.

Zhang Xingxu handed her the water, but she didn’t take it.

She raised her chopsticks and pointed at the food in front of her. “How did you know I come here often?”