The rustle of plastic bags, the sound of people turning over on their bunks. The bus wouldn’t reach its destination until tomorrow afternoon. Still a long road ahead.
Mu Dai lay on a lower bunk toward the back. An old man snored thunderously above her, one foot dangling, swaying back and forth.
She couldn’t sleep. Leaning her head against the glass, she suddenly thought of something and pulled out her wallet.
What was left…
Three yuan and twenty cents.
She wasn’t upset about how little money she had. She was just puzzled—what had she bought that had given her back a measly twenty cents in change?
Three yuan and twenty—barely enough for her next meal.
But she didn’t feel anxious. In fact, there was a faint sense of relief, almost happiness, as though she’d finally shed the old.
After all, she wasn’t going to starve. The uncertainty of what, where, and with whom she’d eat next gave her something to look forward to.
The bus rocked gently, like a cradle.
She closed her eyes.
And saw Luo Ren.
He was standing in front of a fruit stand, produce piled at his feet, head bent as he scribbled on a scrap of paper: “But miss, if you’re really just looking for an excuse to meet me, you can always call me at this number…”
Mu Dai opened her eyes, fogged up the bus window with her breath, and traced Luo Ren’s number with her finger.
Once she finished, she breathed on the glass again, blurring the digits into nothing.
Sometimes fate makes people meet not so they can stay together, but so they can miss each other.
From up ahead came muffled sounds of an argument.
Mu Dai didn’t pay much attention at first—until she realized she could hear a girl’s frightened voice beneath it, whispering, “No… no…”
It was toward the front of the bus, and it seemed to come from an upper bunk. The girl suddenly cried out, “Big sister!”—then fell silent.
Mu Dai sat still for a moment, then climbed down, slipped on her shoes, and moved forward, steadying herself on the bunks as she went.
The noise was clear now—two silhouettes struggling in the dark. A man pressing down on a girl, hand clamped over her mouth. The girl kicked and clawed, slapping at the neighboring bunk.
A middle-aged woman lay there, back turned, eyes half-open. Mu Dai caught the glint in them—she was awake.
But she didn’t move a muscle.
“Hey!” Mu Dai called.
The man snapped his head toward her, snarling, “Mind your own business, bitch, or I’ll kill you!”
Mu Dai shot back, “Then come down here and do it!”
Gripping the bunk rail, she asked the girl, “What’s he to you?”
The girl shook her head frantically, eyes brimming with tears, unable to speak with his hand over her mouth.
The man swung at Mu Dai, but she ducked, planted a foot on the lower bunk, and sprang upward. One hand wrenched his wrist backward, the other locked onto his shoulder.
Just then, the bus lurched. Using the momentum, she yanked him down with a loud thud.
The man groaned in pain. The girl above burst into sobs.
Mu Dai demanded, “What’s your relationship with her?”
He grunted, “She’s my girlfriend!”
From above, the girl screamed, “I don’t know him! He was staring at me while I was waiting for the bus. I ignored him. On board, he switched his bunk to be next to mine. I don’t know him! As soon as the lights went out, he—he tried to force himself on me!”
Now the other passengers stirred. Flashlights clicked on, voices rose: “What’s going on? What happened?”
The whole bus was awake.
That middle-aged woman sat up too, muttering weakly, “I don’t know, I thought it was just young people arguing…”
The man staggered to his feet—tall, broad, face twisted with rage. “She’s my girlfriend! We’re fighting—none of your damn business!”
Some passengers shrank back. “Oh… just a couple’s quarrel then…”
But the girl tumbled down from her bunk, scrambling toward Mu Dai. “Sister, I swear, I’m not his girlfriend. I’m not!”
In the dim light, Mu Dai saw her clearly now. No wonder she’d called her sister—she was only sixteen or seventeen. The man had to be over thirty.
“Do you have your ID?” Mu Dai asked. “Show me.”
Then to the man: “If she’s really your girlfriend, what’s her name?”
The girl caught on instantly, fumbling out her ID with trembling hands. Around them, passengers started goading: “Yeah, tell us her name then!”
The man’s face darkened. His eyes swept the crowd with such menace that the teasing fell silent.
The bus kept rolling.
His fists clenched tight as he advanced on Mu Dai.
The carriage went dead quiet. The girl, pale with fear, tugged at Mu Dai as if to pull her back. Mu Dai glanced at her and said, “Meeting me is your lucky day.”
She planted a foot, vaulted up. The man looked up just in time to catch her elbow slamming into his throat. He choked and collapsed.
Mu Dai landed in front of him, seized both his shoulders, and with a surge of force, dragged him forward.
Like hauling a dead pig.
She dragged him all the way to the front. The driver kept steering, but the relief driver jumped up to block her. “Hey! What are you doing?”
“Open the door,” Mu Dai said.
The driver pulled over. The moment the doors hissed open, she shoved the man out, slammed them shut again, and ordered, “Drive.”
The driver protested, “Miss, you can’t just throw him out—he’s still a passenger!”
Mu Dai ignored him and walked back down the aisle.
The bus sat idling a while. The man stayed crouched outside, too afraid to climb back on. Finally, impatient passengers yelled, “Are we leaving or not?”
Amid the clamor, the relief driver cracked the door open. The man slunk back aboard but only squatted by the entrance, never daring to move farther inside.
The bus rolled on.
The carriage slowly quieted again. Mu Dai lay back with her hands behind her head when a timid figure approached.
It was the girl, lugging her bags. She glanced at Mu Dai, then hesitantly perched on the edge of her bunk.
She fidgeted with a plastic bag, then offered an orange.
“Here,” she said softly. “Have an orange.”
Mu Dai accepted it, dug a fingernail into the peel, stripped it, and popped a slice into her mouth. Sweet, slightly tart, the juice bright against her tongue.
The girl glanced nervously toward the door, then inched closer.
—“The last stop is Nantian. Are you going there too?”
—“I’d been working out of town. My aunt runs a restaurant in Nantian—she asked me to help out.”
—“My name’s Zheng Li. Li, like pear.”
—“Nantian’s a small place. What are you going there for?”
Mu Dai said nothing, just ate slice after slice, the orange’s fragrance cutting through the heavy air.
Zheng Li thought, She’s not going to answer me.
Then Mu Dai spoke.
“I’m going to find someone.”
Meow meow On TPH Chapter 26.1