13 Days of Azure

If anyone else said those words to her, she would have wanted to ask if they worked in microloans, because it sounded exactly like an advertisement slogan.

But if it was the current "Jiang Jingye," she believed it.

He simply couldn't bear to see the suffering in the world.

“So your mother is okay now?”

“Yes, she’s at home now, eating a pound of rice every day. She’s doing well.”

“That’s good,” Su Qingyi said sincerely. Seeing that he had almost finished the rice in his bowl, she shifted to the main topic. “When will Jiang Jingye be back?”

“That’s hard to say. Sometimes it’s ten days or half a month, sometimes more than half a year.”

Su Qingyi pondered softly, “Could you give me his phone number?”

“I can give it, but he might not answer,” Fang Zhu said, afraid she wouldn’t believe him, and even pulled up his WeChat messages with Lu Jingchen. “The last time I contacted him was when he sent me a red envelope.”

At that point, Su Qingyi had nothing more to say.

She intentionally glanced at his profile picture—a cloud floating on green branches beneath a blue sky. Su Qingyi had seen this avatar online before; it was said to bring luck and wealth.

She had to admit, this person could be quite superstitious at times.

“Well, contact me again when he returns.”

“Okay,” Fang Zhu nodded. “Those storefronts aren’t Jing’s, but when he makes a decision, if locals rent them, the price is generally not too high. You talk to Jing properly; he’ll give you a discount.”

Su Qingyi nodded.

After Fang Zhu finished his meal, she put on her washed lunchbox and left.

On her way back, Wang Zhenfeng was about to head out and film a video. Su Qingyi blurted out, “Going out this late?”

Wang Zhenfeng, holding the handlebars of her electric bike, barely responded and rode off. Since learning that the traffic police had caught her, Su Qingyi no longer dared to remind her to wear a helmet.

She went straight to her room.

At ten that night, just as Su Qingyi was preparing herself, she heard the sound of the door closing downstairs.

She guessed Wang Zhenfeng had returned.

Not thinking much of it, she only heard the door sound but no other human noises, which made her get up from bed.

She walked downstairs to the living room.

Wang Zhenfeng was sitting on the sofa holding a tripod, her eyes vacant and staring at the ceiling. Hearing Su Qingyi’s footsteps, she turned her head and asked, “What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” Su Qingyi sat on the sofa beside her.

“Nothing, I’m just sitting here,” Wang Zhenfeng replied honestly.

Seeing her dejected state, Su Qingyi couldn’t help but ask, “How’s your short video filming going?”

She grew even more dispirited upon hearing that question. “Not great.”

“Didn’t Jiang He give you some guidance?”

Mentioning Jiang He made Wang Zhenfeng even more crushed.

Especially recalling Jiang He’s words: “If it really doesn’t work out, have your cousin shoot it. With her looks, anything she films will go viral.” It was as if she was being compared unfavorably to Xiao Lan.

Her dissatisfaction stemmed mainly from Su Qingyi’s recent social media post.

Though Su Qingyi hadn’t named anyone, it was obvious she was talking about Jiang Jingye. The tone was one of smugness, not rejection, but ambiguous intimacy.

Meanwhile, Xiao Lan had secretly admired Jiang Jingye for almost two years but never even spoken to him.

Xiao Lan hadn’t said anything in front of her, but who could feel good about that? Out of friendship with Xiao Lan, Wang Zhenfeng refused to let Su Qingyi become the protagonist.

That would be tantamount to telling Xiao Lan that she really wasn’t as good as her cousin.

But Wang Zhenfeng couldn’t resent Su Qingyi, because aside from that post, Su Qingyi never mentioned Jiang Jingye again. Even the umbrella had been tossed in a corner of the room, indistinguishable from the other umbrellas.

She wasn’t as arrogant as Wang Zhenfeng had imagined.

On the contrary, she was overwhelmed every day by the search for storefronts.

Wang Zhenfeng couldn’t help, and she didn’t want to trouble Su Qingyi, so she endured on her own.

Adding to that, with Su Yu constantly asking about her work, she grew restless and often ended up arguing with Su Yu at home, creating a tense atmosphere.

Even her father didn’t want to come home.

He preferred to stay at the factory every day.

While filming videos today, she couldn’t help but recall Jiang He’s words, wondering what it would be like if Su Qingyi made them.

She realized her mood was off.

So she stopped filming.

Deciding to try again in a few days.

Yet in the dead of night, she couldn’t help but question if she had made the right choice.

Su Qingyi couldn’t tell what she was thinking and asked, “Hmm?”

“Don’t worry about it. It has nothing to do with you.”

Hearing this, Su Qingyi said no more.

She stood and headed out, but paused on the stairs to look back at her. “A Yan, don’t push yourself too hard. You’re only eighteen. What’s the rush?”

Wang Zhenfeng pressed her lips together, her eyes slightly moist.

Her fists clenched, wanting to scold Su Qingyi for not understanding anything. So what if she was eighteen? With her family’s situation, she simply didn’t have time to waste.

If her short videos didn’t succeed, she would have to intern again or find a job just to make a living.

She didn’t want that kind of life.

The more she thought, the more wronged she felt. But before she could vent her emotions, a 200-yuan red envelope from Su Qingyi popped up on her WeChat.

And Su Qingyi, with her usual calm expression, waved her phone nonchalantly and said, “Go to bed early. Good night.”

Wang Zhenfeng’s throat tightened, and it took a long moment before she found her voice. “Okay.”

But by then, no one was left on the stairwell.

**

Half a month passed.

Lu Jingchen still showed no sign of returning, and Su Qingyi, unwilling to give up, went to see several more storefronts, only to find all paths led back to Lu Jingchen.

She almost wished Fang Zhu would contact Liu, the boss from Beijing who was behind Lu Jingchen.

But it was just a wish.

Not to mention Fang Zhu didn’t have Liu’s contact, and out of loyalty, she couldn’t bypass the chain of command.

So, she decided to lie low.

No matter how important the matter, it would have to wait until Lu Jingchen returned.

Fortunately, patience was the one thing Su Qingyi never lacked, and she had no internal strife or guilt about lying low.

Every day she woke up naturally, and when free, visited her grandfather’s wood carving workshop or Su Yu’s dessert stall.

In a sense, she was quite content.

Compared to her, Wang Zhenfeng was much busier, spending all her waking hours except for seven or eight hours of sleep practicing short videos—riding a small electric bike through rain and wind across town every day.

Su Yu often sighed when she saw her on the street. “If she had this much drive for studying, she’d get into Qingbei University easily.”

Su Qingyi would only smile quietly.

Sometimes she’d support Wang Zhenfeng by saying, “But having friends who’re willing to do things with her is impressive.”

Su Yu agreed, then realized Su Qingyi was mostly alone and thought maybe she was jealous of Wang Zhenfeng. She suggested, “Why don’t you hang out with your middle school classmates? Besides Zhou Xu, some must still be in Datong.”

Su Qingyi quickly stopped her.

Since Zhou Xu had spread news of her return, she’d been dragged into a WeChat group called “Datong Billionaires.” The group was full of overweight, disheveled male classmates posting videos of drinking and barbecues.

They boasted that they stayed in Datong because of their prestigious families, while those who went to Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, or Shenzhen were just poor scholars forced to leave.

Su Qingyi lasted two days before finding an excuse to leave.

There were some who did serious work, like her good middle school friend Xie Lan, now a village official in Lingtai. Since Su Qingyi returned, Xie Lan had been wanting to meet for dinner, but three months later, their village’s evaluations still weren’t done.

Her social feed was either about going to the countryside or climbing mountains.

Su Qingyi sometimes wondered where all these mountains in Datong were.

“If you’re really bored, you could also make short videos with your sister and the others,” Su Yu suggested again. “It doesn’t pay, but it’s something to do.”

“Leave A Feng’s electric bike alone,” Su Qingyi said, refusing again. “That little bike can’t fit a fourth person. If I had the time, I’d rather go with grandpa to the mountain and gather some wood.”

Su Yu thought that was reasonable and dropped the subject.

But as the Chinese saying goes, some things just can’t be said.

No sooner had Su Qingyi finished telling Su Yu this than Wang Zhenfeng’s “electric bike crew” fell apart.

Su Qingyi felt awkward when Wang Zhenfeng came to her crying, not wanting to pry.

All she knew was that Xiao Lan had a huge fight with Wang Zhenfeng, accusing her videos of being unoriginal, lacking creativity, and having poor editing. Jiang Yue had sided with Xiao Lan, helping with lighting and carrying equipment.

“She even said my videos were no good. I have to film, edit, keep up with online trends, ride the electric bike to pick them up, and I shamelessly borrow equipment from others. It’s all me, and she says I’m useless,” Wang Zhenfeng said, crying her heart out in Su Yu’s arms.

Su Yu didn’t know how to comfort her and turned to Su Qingyi for help.

Hearing this, Su Qingyi wanted to suggest Wang Zhenfeng apply to Qingbei University, but she knew it wasn’t the time for jokes. She handed Su Yu a yogurt she had just taken from the fridge and silently went upstairs.

People like her, unwelcome, would only make things harder for Wang Zhenfeng by staying around.

Wang Zhenfeng locked herself in her room without eating or drinking for two days. Su Qingyi initially worried she might starve, but that night, she saw Wang Zhenfeng wait until everyone else was asleep, then squat in front of the fridge, eating and grabbing food, even bringing in a five-liter bottle of mineral water.

Relieved, she never brought it up again.

Yet on the third day, Wang Zhenfeng took the initiative to approach her, asking if she would go make short videos together.

Su Qingyi looked at her swollen eyes, slightly stunned. “Just the two of us?”