Lu Fen took the day off today.
He didn't know why he wanted the day off. He just didn't feel like going.
When he got up in the morning, he opened the door. There was no plastic bag at the entrance.
He stood there for a few seconds, closed the door, and went back to lie down.
He lay there until nine, then got up, washed his face, and got dressed. He went out, walked to the entrance of the alley, and stood there for a while.
Where to?
He didn't know.
He walked toward the vegetable market.
---
The vegetable market was crowded and noisy. He squeezed through the crowd, his eyes looking everywhere.
There were several meat stalls. He looked at each one.
She wasn't there.
He walked to the meat stall where he had run into her last time and stood there for a while. The butcher was a middle-aged man, busy cutting meat for a customer. He didn't have time for Lu Fen.
Lu Fen stood there for a few seconds, then left.
When he reached the entrance of the vegetable market, he stopped again.
Where could he go to find her?
All he knew was that she was a pig slaughterer, rode a motorcycle, and lived over by the slaughterhouse. Where was the slaughterhouse? He didn't know.
He pulled out his phone and scrolled to that number.
He looked at it for a few seconds, then tucked it back into his pocket.
She had said she was busy.
---
In the afternoon, he sat behind the crematorium's back door and smoked with Old Liu.
Old Liu glanced at him. "Didn't you take the day off today?"
He said, "Yeah."
Old Liu didn't ask further.
They finished a cigarette together. Old Liu stood up and walked inside. After two steps, he turned back and said, "That pig slaughterer didn't come again today."
Lu Fen said nothing.
Old Liu went inside.
He squatted there, staring at the empty field across the road. His mind was blank.
---
At night, he went to the barbecue stall.
The same one she had taken him to last time. He went in, sat in their usual spot, and ordered two skewers of meat.
The owner glanced at him, didn't say anything, grilled the skewers, and brought them over.
He ate alone. It didn't taste as good as last time.
Halfway through his meal, a few people sat down at the next table, noisy and rowdy. He kept his head down and continued eating.
Suddenly he heard a voice: "...that pig slaughtering chick, damn, she's something else."
His chopsticks stopped.
He turned his head — three guys, early twenties, drinking beer and chatting. The one speaking was tall and thin, gesturing with his hands. "You know the one at the slaughterhouse, rides a motorcycle? Haven't you seen her? Those legs, that waist..."
Another guy laughed. "I've seen her. Fierce as hell. Last time I looked at her for one extra second, she almost pulled a knife on me."
The tall, thin one said, "The fierce ones are the best. That's what I like."
The few of them laughed.
Lu Fen stared at them. His grip on his chopsticks tightened.
He stood up and walked over.
The few guys looked up at him.
He stood by their table and looked at the tall, thin one. "Who are you talking about?"
The tall, thin one froze for a second. "None of your business?"
Lu Fen didn't speak. He just stared at him.
The tall, thin one got uncomfortable under his stare. He stood up. "Who the hell are you?"
The other two stood up too.
Lu Fen still didn't move. He just kept staring.
The owner ran over. "What's going on? What's going on? Don't start trouble in my place!"
The tall, thin one cursed, pushed his chair aside, and left. The other two followed, glancing back at Lu Fen as they walked away.
Lu Fen stood there, watching them leave.
The owner patted him. "Alright, alright. Sit down and eat."
He didn't sit. He pulled out his money, paid, and left.
---
Outside the barbecue stall, he stood by the roadside and pulled out his phone.
He scrolled to that number and looked at it for a few seconds.
This time, he pressed call.
Ring—ring—ring—
No answer.
He called again.
Still no answer.
He stood there for a few seconds, then tucked his phone back into his pocket.
He started walking toward the slaughterhouse.
He didn't know exactly where the slaughterhouse was, but he knew the general direction — the direction she rode her motorcycle from. He walked that way.
After half an hour, he reached an area of factory buildings. There were fewer streetlights. The road got darker. He looked around and saw a large gate with a sign hanging on it: Beishan City Food Company Slaughterhouse.
This was it.
He stood at the entrance and looked inside. It was pitch black in there, except for the guard shack, where a light was on.
He walked over and knocked on the window.
An old man opened the window and looked at him. "Who are you looking for?"
Lu Fen said, "Tu Su."
The old man froze for a second. "What do you want with her?"
Lu Fen said, "I need to see her about something."
The old man looked him up and down a few times, then closed the window, picked up the phone, and dialed a number.
After a moment, the old man opened the window again. "She's off duty."
Lu Fen said, "Where does she live?"
The old man said, "I don't know. Ask her yourself."
Lu Fen stood there for a few seconds, then turned and left.
---
On the walk back, he called again.
Still no answer.
He tucked his phone back into his pocket and kept walking.
When he reached the entrance of his alley, he saw from a distance someone squatting at his door.
His footsteps stopped.
That person heard his footsteps and looked up.
It was her.
He walked over quickly.
She stood up and looked at him. "Did you call me?"
He said, "Yeah."
She said, "I left my phone at work. I just went back to get it."
He stood in front of her, looking at her.
She felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze. "What are you staring at?"
He said, "Where have you been?"
She said, "What do you mean, where have I been?"
He said, "The past couple of days."
She froze for a second, then said, "I had something to do at home."
He didn't speak.
She didn't speak either.
They stood there for a few seconds. Then she suddenly said, "Have you eaten?"
He said, "Yeah."
She said, "What did you eat?"
He said, "Barbecue."
She frowned. "You ate barbecue alone?"
He didn't speak.
She stared at him for a few seconds, then pulled a plastic bag out of her pocket and handed it to him.
He took it — two steamed buns.
She said, "Made some tonight. These are the leftovers."
He looked down at the buns. Still warm.
She said, "Alright, I'm going."
He looked up at her.
She had already turned and was walking toward her motorcycle.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something.
She had already swung her leg over the motorcycle, started it, and ridden away.
He stood there, watching the motorcycle disappear at the end of the alley.
He looked down at the buns in his hand and took a bite.
Chive and egg.
He chewed, and the corner of his mouth lifted.
This time, it lifted high.
---