How Did The Young Lady Go Bankrupt? - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Compliance

After work, Lu Zhiyao followed the plan and took Duan Zishu to the supermarket for groceries.

She wanted to stew some potatoes and stir-fry some bok choy; that would be enough for the two of them. She also needed to buy some daily necessities for Duan Zishu and restock the toilet paper at home. There were quite a few odds and ends, so Lu Zhiyao made a list. She turned and saw Duan Zishu taking off her apron and standing in front of a mirror.

“Let’s go,” she called out.

Duan Zishu nodded to show she had heard, then lifted her chin toward the mirror, tilted her face, lowered her head, and adjusted a few angles before finally turning away.

The two took the little electric scooter as usual.

“I’m very uncomfortable sitting in the back,” Duan Zishu said. The rear seat was low, and it was true that her legs couldn’t stretch out.

“My apologies, Your Highness,” Lu Zhiyao replied flatly, sitting in the front.

The ride home on the electric scooter after work was usually the most relaxed time of Lu Zhiyao’s day. Especially in the season when the weather was turning cold but not yet freezing, the slightly chilly air helped clear her mind, and the colors in the sky were extraordinarily magnificent. It wasn’t late yet, there was no need to feel anxious about anything, and she could let her mind go completely blank.

Suddenly, a pair of hands wrapped around her waist from behind.

Lu Zhiyao’s body stiffened, and she subconsciously sat up straighter.

She felt Duan Zishu lean gently against her back. This sudden physical contact made Lu Zhiyao nervous; under normal circumstances, she would have spoken up to stop it. But the joy of just finishing work and the comfortable, pleasant evening sky put her in her most relaxed state—the most willing to show the world a friendly face.

Forget it, she thought. The first day of work was pretty exhausting, too.

After a while, her tense body gradually relaxed.

Night was about to fall, and streetlights were flickering to life one by one. As they moved along the road, the city’s iconic power lines and streetlamps passed over their heads. Lu Zhiyao thought of a song about city walking. With someone leaning against her back, she felt warmed and comforted—it wasn’t half bad.

Suddenly, Lu Zhiyao braked hard. Duan Zishu slammed her forehead into Lu Zhiyao’s back; one had a sore back, the other a sore nose. It was lucky that her nose was original equipment; otherwise, she’d be picking it up off the pavement.

“Oh no!” Lu Zhiyao exclaimed. “They’re checking for riders ahead! Run!”

With that, she executed a sharp turn, twisted the throttle hard, and the scooter shot out like an arrow released from a bow, diving into a narrow alley where traffic police would never check. The flagstone path in the alley was uneven, causing the lightweight scooter to bounce up and down. The two of them were tossed about all the way until they burst into the vegetable market.

Through the market was a decent-sized supermarket. Lu Zhiyao got off the scooter, while Duan Zishu still looked like she had lost her soul.

“If electric scooters aren’t allowed to carry passengers, why design a back seat?”

“I don’t know.”

The two walked into the supermarket, and Lu Zhiyao grabbed a shopping cart. “Hmm… we need to buy some eggs; we’re out. Let’s just browse as we go; if we see something we need, we’ll grab it.”

Lu Zhiyao enjoyed shopping at the supermarket. Placing the necessary items into the basket and calculating their future use gave her a sense of complete satisfaction—except when checking the balance after paying.

“Milk for one yuan a box, Lu Zhiyao. A box of strawberry milk for one yuan,” Duan Zishu said, pointing ahead.

Lu Zhiyao looked over and saw that row of little artificial-flavor drinks that were permanently on sale because no one would ever buy them at full price: “I know for a fact you wouldn’t like drinking that.”

They walked further inside, and Lu Zhiyao compared the prices of two types of toilet paper. Duan Zishu took the shopping cart and followed beside her. Although she didn’t say anything on the surface, Lu Zhiyao was actually quite happy; she thought Duan Zishu wasn’t completely lacking in social awareness.

In high school, her greatest fantasy of happiness was just the two of them going to the supermarket together. It felt incredibly grounded and wouldn’t put too much pressure on either of them.

Most importantly, it felt intimate. Lovers in the heat of passion always went to movies and restaurants, clutching hands and clinging to each other on the streets, but only people who were very familiar with one another went to the supermarket together. You’d push the cart, then occasionally I’d push it, and the distance between you would close with that back-and-forth rhythm.

At the time, she only knew Duan Zishu was wealthy, but she didn’t realize how vast the chasm between them really was.

In the produce section, Lu Zhiyao first went to buy a bag of eggs. She had considered that vegetables at the market might be cheaper, but she feared that because of the sanitation conditions there, Duan Zishu would refuse to eat anything from it—even if washed. It was the same at noon; one of the takeout dishes had gotten cold, and a film of solidified oil had stuck to the lid. Even after Lu Zhiyao reheated it in the microwave, Duan Zishu hadn’t touched it with her chopsticks.

She turned her head and saw Duan Zishu staring at the potatoes.

Duan Zishu picked one up and frowned slightly, seemingly pondering why something covered in dirt was even allowed to be displayed for sale. A moment later, she put the potato back, rubbed her fingers together, and looked extremely repulsed by the dust sticking to her skin.

Lu Zhiyao remembered Duan Zishu’s coming-of-age ceremony; she remembered the scene vividly even now.

A waiter carrying a tray had accidentally bumped into Duan Zishu. The food on the tray didn’t seem to have stained her clothes. Duan Zishu stood there, saying nothing while the waiter apologized profusely, her expression unreadable. She simply brushed off her clothes and then, just like now, frowned slightly and rubbed her fingers together.

Back then, Lu Zhiyao only knew Duan Zishu was rich; in her own limited experience, she couldn’t even imagine the scenes of extreme wealth. Her understanding of rich people was limited to those living in large houses and driving expensive cars. She didn’t know the gap between herself and Duan Zishu until she was invited to that ceremony.

Duan Zishu’s coming-of-age party was held on a cruise ship. It was said it wasn’t the “official” one—that was saved for her birthday according to the lunar calendar—but rather just a get-together for her peers.

Beyond the big houses and expensive cars, she never knew such a luxurious, gargantuan maritime vessel could exist. Lu Zhiyao had always assumed such things were owned only by the government; a private individual could never afford it.

Her friends all joked about how Duan Zishu had a good temper, not scolding the person who bumped into her. But Lu Zhiyao saw the stiff back of the waiter, who didn’t even dare to apologize further. She suddenly felt uneasy—very uneasy.

Under everyone’s gaze, Duan Zishu showed no sign of discomfort. She picked up a drink from another waiter’s tray and held it up slightly: “Everyone, have fun!” After waiting for the cheering to die down, she placed the drink back.

“What about the person who bumped into you?” Lu Zhiyao had asked.

Duan Zishu’s expression hadn’t changed at all. “Who knows?” She brushed the matter off with complete indifference and then said, “Happy birthday to me, Lu Zhiyao.”

After that, they broke up—right at the end of that banquet. It was awkward to say, really; Lu Zhiyao slapped Duan Zishu and ran away, but there was nowhere to run to on a cruise ship. After the party ended, she still had to sheepishly follow the crowd down the stairs and back to shore.

Lu Zhiyao snapped back to reality and saw Duan Zishu looking at her with a confused gaze in the crowded supermarket.

“Why are potatoes sold when they’re covered in dirt?”

Lu Zhiyao walked over and bagged the potatoes: “Don’t you think this makes them look fresh?”

Duan Zishu pondered for a moment and said: “I don’t.”

Now, she would never again stand amidst a distant crowd, separated from herself by a chasm.

Lu Zhiyao went to the fresh meat section to buy chicken legs, saying they would have potato-stewed chicken that night. Duan Zishu followed her every step, saying she didn’t want to eat stir-fried bok choy. Lu Zhiyao thought about it; if they weren’t having bok choy, they could swap it for stir-fried tomatoes and eggs.

Passing the beverage section, Duan Zishu said she wanted to drink alcohol. That was a no; Lu Zhiyao hated alcohol. If Duan Zishu hadn’t been drinking back then, their conflicts might not have exploded so quickly.

“At most, we can get two bottles of cola,” she said.

Now, Duan Zishu had no money, no social experience, and her former connections were useless. Whatever she wanted to eat or do, she had to rely on Lu Zhiyao. She had to eat food she didn’t want, grit her teeth through work she hated, and if she didn’t follow Lu Zhiyao, she wouldn’t even have a place to stay.

When the weather got colder, she would have to rely on Lu Zhiyao to buy her winter clothes. Duan Zishu’s salary was pitifully low, her shifts weren’t the fullest, and she likely wouldn’t last long—there was absolutely no way she could move out and live independently.

Lu Zhiyao picked out a mug for Duan Zishu to drink water from, and accidentally caught a glimpse of her own smile in the reflective surface of the shelf.

Was she… happy?

No, that couldn’t be right, could it?

Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt a sudden pang of discomfort. What was she happy about? Happy that Duan Zishu was no longer that aloof young lady? Happy that she had lost all her wealth? Happy that she couldn’t survive without relying on her? That shouldn’t be it; wouldn’t that mean she didn’t want the other person to do well?

At first, she hadn’t realized Duan Zishu would show up at her door, and had let her stay in a muddle. Duan Zishu couldn’t do anything and was picky to boot, which made her feel a bit annoyed. Why did she feel like things were different now? It was probably the tears; she never imagined Duan Zishu would cry.

Not strong at all, and so fragile. If she hadn’t hugged her back then, would she have cried even harder? If she had just turned and walked away, would Duan Zishu have chased after her regardless of her dignity?

Duan Zishu said she wanted to get back together. Lu Zhiyao didn’t believe she could still like her after so many years of silence, but she was willing to believe that Duan Zishu had run out of options and had no choice but to rely on her. She remembered the only pet she’d ever raised as a child—a scruffy, mutt puppy. “Sit.” As long as she said that, the dog would sit, just for the steamed bun in her hand. If it didn’t understand her command, Lu Zhiyao would put on an angry face, and the dog would panic and stick out its tongue.

That was the first time she, a young child, had encountered a creature weaker than herself, and the first time she tasted the sensation of power. But later, the puppy got sick and died, and she never raised an animal again.

In high school, she felt like a dog following Duan Zishu, not afraid of being ordered around, only afraid of being abandoned.

And now…

Lu Zhiyao pushed the shopping cart and turned, heading toward the vegetable section to buy a head of cabbage.

Duan Zishu saw her intention, and her eyebrows immediately drooped down.

“You need to supplement some dietary fiber,” Lu Zhiyao said. “Didn’t we just have tomato and egg noodles? Nutrition needs to be balanced and comprehensive.”

I’m not a bad person, Lu Zhiyao thought. Even if Duan Zishu needed to depend on her to survive now, she wouldn’t mistreat her. She would take care of her very, very carefully.

Very, very carefully.