Guests at Home

Chen Yumin gets up at 5:30 every morning, not because she can't sleep, but because she needs to tidy herself up before her children wake up.

First she went to the bathroom, turned the tap down as low as it would go, washed her face, and thoroughly removed the work makeup she had put on last night. The mirror was a small round mirror that could be hung on the wall for six yuan. The frame was made of white plastic and had turned yellow. There was a crack on the surface diagonally from the upper right corner, and her face was divided into two halves inside. She was used to only looking at the left half of her face. She would first deal with the remaining eye shadow in the corner of her right eye, and then use a cotton pad to wipe away any foundation marks that might have been rubbed against her neckline. She performed these movements very quietly, like a sequenced surgical procedure.

Then go to the kitchen.

They live in an urban-village building in Qiaotou Town, Dongguan, renting the second floor. There is a musty smell in the corridor all year round that I can't tell where it comes from. It is musty and wet in summer and musty and cold in winter. The kitchen is in the corner of the living room. There is no separate door. There is only an iron exhaust fan embedded in the outer wall. There is a layer of putty on the exhaust fan blades, and it makes a slight "tacking" sound when it rotates. She didn't turn on the exhaust fan for fear of waking her mother-in-law.

She boils water first. The aluminum kettle has been used for six years. There is a circular black mark on the bottom of the kettle, which was left by forgetting to turn off the heat and let it dry. She poured the water in, put the stove on, and started preparing breakfast. The leftover rice from yesterday was still in the pot. She added water, turned down the heat, and started cooking porridge. Cut half a cucumber, pat it flat, and mix it with some salt and vinegar. Take out a piece of fermented bean curd from the refrigerator, the kind her mother-in-law likes to eat.

The kitchen window faced the alley outside, and it was pitch dark outside at this time. Occasionally a courier's tricycle passes by, its light sweeping across the window glass and then disappearing. She stood in front of the stove, her hands casually placed on her abdomen. During the few seconds when she was not working, she just stood.

The silver bracelet on her wrist glowed a little white in the light of the stove light.

That bracelet was given to her by her mother when she got married at the age of twenty-five. It's not worth much, and the condition is average. It has been worn for seven years, and there is a circle of whitened marks on the inner wall. She tried taking it off and putting it in a drawer, but she couldn't sleep well. She had to touch it to confirm before she could continue to sleep. She never took it off after that.

The sound of porridge simmering filled the kitchen. She took down Xiaojun's thermos cup from the top of the cupboard—a crimson thermos cup with a dinosaur pattern printed on it. There was a crack on the cup lid, and she wrapped it twice with transparent tape—filled it with warm water and placed it on a plastic stool. That was the last action she did every morning, to make sure the glass of water was warm, not too hot, not too cold. Then about twenty minutes later, Xiaojun would wake up, look at her with round eyes, and say, Mom, I'm thirsty.

She sat on the low kitchen stool, took her phone out of her pocket, and turned on the screen. There are two unread messages in the upper left corner of the screen, one is an automatic deduction notice from the bank, and the other is a WeChat message from her husband Wen Jianfa, which was sent at 2:17 in the morning. She clicked on the bank link first.

Automatic mortgage deduction: yuan 3,120. Current balance: eighty-four yuan.

She turned the phone over and clasped it on her lap. She sat there for about two minutes, thinking nothing, or rather, thinking about so many things that she felt like she was blank. Then she turned her phone back and opened the message from Wen Jianfa.

Wife, I'm at my classmate's place and I'll be back tomorrow.

She didn't reply. Put your phone in your apron pocket, stand up and stir the porridge.

In August, her father-in-law's medicine bill was mailed, totaling 4,300 yuan. Her mother-in-law pressed the bill under the glass plate of the dining table and said nothing. She just put it there and let it stay there.

Her name is Chen Yumin, from Changde, Hunan, and she is 31 years old. The occupation written in her household registration book is "none", and she sometimes thinks so.

She finished junior high school in Changde and came to Guangdong at the age of sixteen. She first worked as an assembly line in Houjie for two years, and then followed her fellow villagers to work as a room attendant in a hotel. Then she worked as a quality inspector in a clothing factory. Later she met Wen Jianfa, a native of Dongguan. He was not handsome, but honest. He had an apartment in his hometown. Her mother said that a man who owns a house can marry. They received the certificate in 2017 and gave birth to Xiaojun in 2018.

After marriage, she worked as a supermarket cashier, a kindergarten classroom aide, and a helper at the pork-rice shop downstairs. She also did delivery work with Wen Jianfa for a while. However, she rode an electric bike and her income was not as good as sitting at home and working as an online store customer service, so she stopped. The business of the online store was getting worse and worse, and the customer service orders could not be received, so she went to work as a part-time worker in a restaurant, cutting vegetables and ingredients, which earned her 60 yuan a day. A scar was left on the back of her hand, which is still there to this day.

Loan three thousand one. The water, electricity and miscellaneous expenses are 300 to 400. Her mother-in-law's medication, her father-in-law's occasional follow-up visits, Xiaojun's kindergarten care fee of 800, and various activity fees for occasional parent-teacher conferences. Wen Jianfa, he said last month that his business deal was coming. Wait a minute, Yu Min, just hold on a little longer, just this month. He has been saying this for three months. The electric bike he is riding now was borrowed from his cousin, and the license plate was borrowed.

She glanced down at the silver bracelet on her wrist. The porridge is ready. She took out a bowl, put it on the table, and then knocked on the door of her mother-in-law's room.

Mom, the meal is ready.

After a while, her mother-in-law's voice came from inside. It was the voice of an old man in the morning, dry, vague, and impatient.

Got it, leave it alone.

The light in Xiaojun's room is a night light, always on, orange. He was sleeping deeply, lying on his back, with his mouth slightly open, his hands spread on both sides of the pillow, palms facing up, and each finger was loosened, as if something had been put down.

Chen Yumin stood beside the bed and looked at him for a while. She didn't call him immediately, she just pulled the thin quilt that he had kicked away and pulled it back to cover his waist. She squatted down and rechecked the dinosaur thermos cup placed on the ground beside the bed. The temperature had dropped to the appropriate level. She put the back of her hand against his forehead, but there was no fever.

His eyebrows are like hers, his eyes are not like anyone else's, and his mouth is like her mother said, like her grandfather. Someone he had never met.

Xiaojun, get up and go to school.

He stirred, turned over, and buried his face in the pillow.

Mother……

stand up. Mom helps you get dressed.

She took off his school uniform from the back of the chair and patted his back twice. He said "Yeah" again, and then slowly got up, without opening his eyes, he just let her put on the clothes, raising his arms and putting them down again, his whole body was soft like dough.

Chen Yumin helped him button up, stood up, and put the glass of water into his hand.

Drink water.

He took it, took a sip, opened his eyes and looked at her, and then asked:

Mom, what time did you come back last night?

Came back early.

I'll wait for you until eight o'clock.

You don't have to wait anymore, you can go to bed when mom comes back late.

He lowered his head and took another sip of water, then said nothing more. Chen Yumin picked up the clothes he had changed out of yesterday and soaked them in the washbasin. Her mother-in-law was already sitting at the dining table in pajamas, hair uncombed, scrolling through short videos with the volume turned a little too high, the music from some cooking clip filling the room.

Her father-in-law is not at home. He has to stay in the hospital for another two weeks. He has a lung problem. He was previously diagnosed with nodules, but this time it turned into pneumonia. He has been there for a month. In a family of four, there are now three people living there every day.

She placed the bean curd in front of her mother-in-law, patted the cucumbers and put them on top, and took out a can of pickles from the refrigerator. She didn't eat herself and drank half a bowl while standing in the kitchen. She glanced at the time, six forty-seven. There are still forty minutes until Xiaojun is sent to kindergarten, and then he rides an electric bike to the town to pick up an order. He must be there before nine o'clock.

She glanced at her phone from her apron pocket, marked the message from Wen Jianfa as read, without replying, and then opened another WeChat account - it was a clone she had specially installed. There was only one group, and the group name was "Tea Yuan·Home Club Resource Group".

At 11 o'clock last night, someone sent a message in the group:

Tomorrow at nine o'clock in the morning, there will be two guests over in Dongcheng, tea party, standard field. If you are interested, please contact me. The pay is four hundred, including breakfast, no drinking, and no overnight stay.

She had already replied to that person at five o'clock this morning: I'll come.

The first time she knew about this group was six months ago, when a woman named Zhou Lizhen introduced it. Zhou Lizhen is also from Hunan, her hometown is in Shaoyang, and she worked as a classroom aide in a kindergarten with her. After the kindergarten was closed, Zhou Lizhen first worked as a hotel guest room, but then she changed careers for some reason.

The first time they talked about money was one rainy evening under the eaves outside the school, waiting for the children to come out. That day she had just taken a call from the supermarket: the cashier job she had applied for was full, they did not need her. Her face did not change. She hung up, put the phone back in her bag, and stood there while rain slid from the eaves in a blurred curtain.

Yumin, where do you work recently?

She shook her head.

I'm looking for.

Are there any that get paid on a daily basis?

I worked as a helper in a restaurant for 60 yuan a day, but people thought I was inexperienced and said that cutting vegetables was too slow.

Zhou Lizhen said "Huh", leaned towards her and lowered her voice.

I’ll introduce you to making one, it's clean, you can choose the working hours, and the money is good.

What job.

Just drinking tea with others, chatting, sometimes pouring wine and helping to create an atmosphere. The customers are all rich, bosses and directors. They just want a woman who can talk with them, talk about business, listen to them talk about work matters, and sometimes just complain. You don’t need to do anything else, you don’t need to drink too much, the rules are very clear, if you cross the line, you can just leave, and the mother who meets you will handle it.

Chen Yumin glanced at her and did not speak immediately.

How much does one show cost.

The price ranges from 200 to 400 for a standard venue, and starts from 500 for a high-end venue. If you meet a generous customer, the red envelope will be given out individually.

She didn't say yes or no, she just said "oh" and looked at the rain curtain. Then Xiaojun came out, carrying his schoolbag and holding up his hands, and ran towards her, calling for his mother. She squatted down to catch him, buried her face in the back of his neck, and took a deep breath of the unique smell of a child, the smell of sweat mixed with the smell of biscuit crumbs.

That night when she went home, she found Wen Jianfa playing games with headphones on, half-eaten braised chicken feet on the table, and her father-in-law's medicine bill was still on the table. Xiaojun went to bed. She sat on the kitchen mat, thought about what Zhou Lizhen said again, and then turned on the calculator.

The kindergarten care fee is 800 yuan, the house loan is 3,000 yuan, her mother-in-law's daily food expenses are 1,000 yuan, her father-in-law's medicine expenses are 600 yuan per month, and the water and electricity expenses are 400 yuan. Adding in the occasional miscellaneous expenses, the monthly gap is 5,000 yuan. Wen Jianfa's income is unstable. Last month, he took two orders for decoration assistance and received one thousand three thousand. Five thousand yuan, every month. She turned off her calculator and clasped her phone on her lap. Two weeks later, she joined the group.

She actually tried many ways. She applied for a job as a cashier in a milk tea shop. The boss looked at her age and said, "We usually recruit girls under the age of twenty. You are a bit too old and the customer base is not suitable for you." She said she had worked as a cashier and had experience. The boss said, sister, you know, this kind of store needs atmosphere. You are already a mother, so it doesn't suit our brand tone.

She went to deliver food for a while, riding her old electric bicycle. From 5pm to 10pm, she delivered 32 orders. After deducting the gas fee, her actual income was 78 yuan. There was something wrong with that car halfway through the ride. It was restricted by the speed limit and couldn't go fast no matter what. The platform fined me three times for being late and deducted 18 yuan. She repaired her car on the side of the road. The repair fee was 30 yuan. She squatted on the side of the road and waited for 20 minutes. The wind blew her hair into chaos. She pressed it with her hand. There was no mirror, so she didn't know what it was like.

She worked as a live broadcast assistant, responsible for receiving comments, delivering goods, and updating inventory, four to six hours a day, and paid 1,200 yuan a month. After two months of payment, her boss ran away and the salary she owed her has not yet been paid.

She worked as the front desk of a small hotel next to the hospital, specializing in picking up family members and attendants from the hospital. She worked there for nearly three months, alternating between morning, midday and night shifts. Sometimes people come to check in at three or four in the morning. They are the kind of people who have just come out of the ICU door. Their eyes are red or empty, and their faces have an expression that looks like they are about to collapse but not yet. She gave them the bill, handed them the keys, pointed to the room, and tried not to talk too much. Three months later, the hotel changed owners. The new owner came in and laid off two people, and she was one of them.

There was one thing she always remembered about that hotel. Once, a man in his fifties stood in front of the counter holding a brown paper bag. He handed her his mobile phone to look at and said, "My wife is inside and has just been diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer. She asked me to book a room. She said she wanted to be closer to the hospital to facilitate chemotherapy." His hands were shaking all the time. On the screen of his mobile phone was a room request from his wife, which was very specific: first floor, not close to the road, with windows, and two beds, because she was afraid of being alone at night.

She helped him find a room that met the conditions. When he signed, she saw that his hand was pressing the pen, the veins on the back of his hand bulged, and the words he signed were crooked. She didn't say any words of comfort, because any words would be superfluous. She just took out a pack of tissues from under the counter, put it in his hand, and then turned to get the key card.

She had done these jobs and left them all, either on her own initiative or because she was forced to take the initiative. The monthly salary of each job, added together and divided by the number of months worked, averages out to less than 2,600. She doesn't feel particularly greedy about money, she just needs enough. Enough is all she wants.

But enough is a very broad standard, because the monthly gap is real. Her father-in-law’s pneumonia waits for no one, Xiaojun's tuition fees wait for no one, and the bank’s deduction notice waits for no one. Regular jobs cannot give you this number. At least the ones she found couldn't be given.

She joined the group and didn't take any orders within three days. She just looked at the messages in the group, read them one by one, read the rules clearly, figured out the boundaries between code words and plain words, and then mentally went through all the possible situations. On the fourth day, she took her first order.

The group was called "Tea Affinity · Home Club Resources." Its owner was a woman everyone called Sister Mei, said to be in her early forties. She had once managed a KTV floor in Shenzhen, then moved into independent "resource matching," connecting clients and women and taking a ten-percent introduction fee from each job. Sister Mei never appeared in the group itself; she worked only through private messages. Jobs were posted, interested women confirmed privately, and the rules were pinned at the top. There were only twelve.

Article 1: All service locations are confirmed in advance. If there are any abnormalities after arrival, admission can be refused without any reason. Article 2: Don’t drink strong alcohol, don’t offer to pour wine when you don’t need it, and politely refuse when asked by guests and replace it with tea. Article 3: Do not enter the bedroom, do not accompany you at night, and do not accept private orders. Article 4: Clothing requirements: clean, formal, low-key, no exposed breasts or ultra-short clothes, and the main style is "home reception". Article 5: Confidentiality.

Chen Yumin read the twelve items twice, then put down the phone, poured a glass of water, stood in the kitchen and drank the glass of water slowly, then came back and read the twelve items again.

She knew this was not an easy task. She also knew that when she was looking at these rules, part of her was looking for a definition she could accept, something she could tell herself that wouldn't bring her down. She told herself: This is a service industry, a companionship service. The boundaries are here. As long as it does not cross these lines, it is a job. She knew that wasn't entirely true. But she didn't think about the untrue part. This is also a skill, shielding. She has known it since she was very young.

The first order was at a tea art studio in Qiaotou Town. There were two customers, one was a building materials owner, about fifty years old, and the other was his friend who came from out of town to talk about business. The two of them sat for three hours, mainly talking to the building materials boss, talking about the troubles his recent project had encountered under government supervision, his son's failure to live up to expectations, and his wife's always spending money indiscriminately. Chen Yumin sat across the tea table, pouring tea for them, and occasionally said "oh", or "that's it", or "that's quite difficult". She put her eyes gently, sat upright, legs together, and put her hands on her knees.

The building materials boss had a habit of tapping the table with his finger for emphasis when he was talking. Every time he clicked on the table, she moved her eyes a little in his direction, as if attracted by the gesture, as if what he said was more important than it actually was. In three hours, she barely said twenty complete sentences. At the end of the day, the building materials boss sent her a WeChat red envelope worth 480 yuan, which was 80 yuan more than the standard price.

She walked out of the tea art studio and paused at the door. The street outside is an ordinary town street. An old man is pushing a cart by. A motorcycle is parked next to it. The rider lowers his head and checks his mobile phone. Nothing special happens. It was hot, late August, and the sun was still high.

She rode her electric bike home and answered Zhou Lizhen's call on the way.

Yumin, how are you?

It was all right. Just talking, pouring tea for them a few times.

Is that boss generous?

Eighty more.

Oh, he is considered ordinary, not the most generous. Some customers pay more than a thousand per session and will also introduce you to the next one.

Chen Yumin said, yes. Then he said, I will drive first. She put her phone away, rode for a while, and stopped at an intersection to wait for a red light. There was a car parked next to it. The window was rolled down and the music inside leaked out. It was an old song whose name she couldn't remember. She looked down at the silver bracelet on her wrist. The sun had heated it up and it felt warm against her skin. The red light turns green. She kept riding.

In the next month, she would receive about two to three orders a week, all of which were standard venues, tea gatherings, and the locations were different. Sometimes it was a private club, sometimes it was a rented service suite, and sometimes it was the living room of a wealthy family. There are usually two to three guests, all of whom are men, mostly in their forties or fifties, and are in business or government-related industries.

She gradually mastered a set of rules: she set her cell phone to silent before entering the house; her shoes were clean and she did not wear high heels, because in a private residence, the sound of high heels walking on the hard floor would make people feel deliberately; After entering the door, wait for the owner's eyes before sitting down. After sitting down, without speaking, first look at the tea set to confirm where it is, then prepare it silently, and wait for the host's signal before starting to make tea.

They talk, you listen, don’t interrupt, don’t answer too quickly, give them space, and they will fill in more words than you expected. Keep your answers concise, neither too clever nor too stupid. "That's right" is better than "Yes, yes, yes", and "You make sense" is better than "Wow, is that true?" If they tell a joke, laugh, but don't laugh too loudly. If they fall into silence, you can ask them if they would like to make some tea instead. This will help the silence come naturally.

If the customer's eyes start to look wrong or his hands start to move to the wrong place, you can hide with your body and say nothing. Most of the time, this is enough. If it's not enough, stand up, pour the tea, sit back on the other side of the table, and change your position. If that's not enough, take out your phone and say, Sister Mei asked me to ask for the time and I will send a message. This sentence is a code, and they usually accept it.

She didn't like the job, she'd never lied to herself. But she has a quiet honesty about herself: she doesn't like it, but she's doing it, she's exchanging this thing she doesn't like for something she needs, and the exchange is clear, not about love, not about recognition, not about who she is. She is Chen Yumin. The silver bracelet was on her wrist, where it had always been.

The most difficult thing about this job is not the cross-border looks, the smile that needs to be held, or even the posture of bending down to pour tea in someone else's private house. The most difficult thing was when I got home and saw Xiaojun writing on the table. He raised his head and said with a smile for no reason at the corner of his mouth: Mom, I scored 98 points in the test today. At that time, she needed to switch her whole body, and the effort required for this switch was the greatest in the entire work.

In October she accepted a job called "family banquet service." It was different from tea conversation. Tea conversation happened in a tea studio or a club: the clients came, she went over, and the place was neutral. Family banquet service meant entering someone else's home to help the host receive guests, something like a hostess's assistant: preparing food in the kitchen, plating dishes, serving at the table, managing the atmosphere, helping the host hold the room together. These jobs paid more, usually six hundred to a thousand, depending on the length of the event and the number of guests.

This was the first time she had taken this kind of order, and her mood was even more unstable than when she had taken the tea talk. She stood in the bathroom for a while before going out, with her hands on the sink, her head lowered, and she took three deep breaths.

The family lived in a newly developed building in the town, a three-bedroom apartment of more than 70 square meters. The decoration was much better than hers, with marble floors, a set of dark gray sofas, and a glass chandelier bought from IKEA in the dining room. The owner is a man named Zhao, who is in his forties and works as a construction agency. He invited two couples to dinner that night. His wife was not at home and was said to have returned to her parents' home. However, Chen Yumin later judged from various details that he might not have a wife or might have been divorced.

After she arrived, the owner asked her to go to the kitchen first. The ingredients were all ready and the semi-finished products were ready. She was asked to make the remaining dishes and arrange the dishes. She took the menu, which was handwritten with slanted handwriting. It had eight dishes, with meat and vegetable combinations. She read it over, made an order in her mind, and then started cooking.

The guests arrived at seven o'clock, and she heard the doorbell in the kitchen, heard the voices of men greeting each other, heard the sound of high heels on the floor - there were women among the guests, she noticed. When the meal started, she served the dishes, poured the wine, took paper towels, collected the empty plates, and replenished the drinks. The guest's female companion glanced at her twice, one for sizing and the other for confirmation. She noticed it and didn't react at all. She just lowered her eyebrows and did her own thing.

During the dinner, Mr. Zhao once gently put his hand on her waist and said, "Excuse me." She smiled, walked sideways, picked up the bottle, and moved her body away from his hand. The whole action was like a natural turn.

The male companion of a guest got a little excited after drinking and said, "Is this lady your housekeeper?" Are you all so attentive to housekeeping? The people next to me laughed. Mr. Zhao said that he was introduced by a friend to help. He is a very nice person and should not make random jokes.

She took away the empty wine glass, entered the kitchen, leaned on the stove, and closed her eyes. The exhaust fan in the kitchen was spinning, and the laughter from outside came in through a door, blurry, as if it was happening in someone else's house. She turned on the faucet, washed her hands, rearranged her skirt, straightened her hair, put her expression back on, then opened the kitchen door and came out.

She took away the empty wine glass, entered the kitchen, leaned on the stove, and closed her eyes. The exhaust fan in the kitchen was spinning, and the laughter from outside came in through a door, vague, as if it was happening at someone else's house.

At the end of that night, Mr. Zhao paid her eight hundred yuan and gave her a small red envelope. She counted one hundred and two. She didn't refuse, put the money in her bag, put on her coat, thanked him, and left.

She rode home at 10:30 at night, and there were not many people on the road. She rode all the way, going through everything that happened that night in chronological order in her mind, what she did right, what could be better, and where there were any risks that she had not foreseen. This is something she does every time she goes home, a bit like an audit, an audit of herself.

She exchanged the one hundred and twenty red envelopes for the kind of juice that Xiaojun drank and a bag of eggs at a small supermarket at the intersection, took them home and put them in the refrigerator. Wen Jianfa fell asleep on the bed, and the TV was still on. She turned off the TV, turned off the lights, changed her clothes in the dark, and lay down. Wen Jianfa turned over and asked vaguely: Are you back? She said: Well, go to sleep. He said: Tomorrow a friend asked me to go have a drink. She didn't respond, closed her eyes, and pushed up the silver bracelet on her wrist to confirm that it was there.

After that, she took four or five more orders as an escort for family dinners. The locations, hosts, and guests were different, but the structure was basically the same. She accumulated a fixed image on these occasions: quiet, appropriate, not talkative, smiling without showing her teeth, not leaning too far forward when pouring wine, remembering everyone's glass and not leaving it empty. Someone began to ask for her by name, designated through Sister Mei. Sister Mei increased her commission a bit because the named woman had a high platform value.

Her monthly income is starting to approach that number. Four thousand eight, five thousand, and six thousand two in May. She began to bring the bank balance back from negative, paid off the small sums of money she had borrowed before, made up for Xiaojun's custody fees that had been delayed for two months, and bought three months' worth of her father-in-law's medicine.

During that time, the air at home was a little different. It's not getting better, it's getting looser. Mother-in-law no longer sighs in the kitchen. Wen Jianfa bought a bag of peanuts and said, let's drink some together. When her father-in-law was hospitalized, she would deliver meals every week, bringing everything he liked to eat. He raised his head, looked at her for a long time, and said, Yumin, thank you for your hard work. This is the first time she has said this in the seven years since she entered this home.

On the way home, she cried for a while on the electric car. She didn't know why, but she felt better after crying.

During that time, there was only one thing that made her uneasy: Wen Jianfa started to stop asking. He used to ask, where are you going today, when will you come back, and why are you going. Don’t ask now. He took the money and used it without asking where it came from. She didn't know if this was a tacit consent. She thinks it should be counted, but she doesn't think it should be counted, or it should be counted, but it's an algorithm that makes both of them uncomfortable.

One time she came home at around ten o'clock in the evening. Before entering, she stood at the door and made a small change between the Chen Yumin outside and the Chen Yumin at home. Then push the door open and go in. Wen Jianfa was playing cards on the table, with his phone screen on. He raised his eyes and looked at her: He's back. Um. Have you eaten yet? have eaten. He lowered his head and continued playing cards. That night, she boiled a pot of water in the kitchen, brewed the tea, sat on the pony in the kitchen, and drank the cup of tea from hot to cold.

Her mother-in-law was the first to notice, or in other words, the first to choose a specific way of noticing. On a Saturday in November, Chen Yumin went out in the afternoon and came back after nine o'clock in the evening. She changed into a set of clothes and took off the makeup on her face, but her hair was still the same as before, neatly styled and a little high. Her mother-in-law was sitting on the sofa, peeling oranges with her head lowered, and said without raising her eyes:

How much did your hair cost?

Chen Yumin took off her shoes and said: Thirty-five, the one downstairs.

Thirty-five, so expensive.

It’s the same price now, Mom.

Her mother-in-law separated the orange segments and said nothing. After a while, he said again:

You've been going out a lot lately.

It was a bit much, and I took on a few jobs.

What to live, what to do.

Service-type, helping people receive guests, that's it.

Her mother-in-law put the orange segment into her mouth, chewed it twice, and then said:

If you're helping receive people, you still need to be careful. Don't come back too late. Xiaojun has asked me twice lately where his mother went.

Chen Yumin said she understood, went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water, and entered the bedroom. Wen Jianfa was not at home that night, so she sat by the bed, turned on her phone, and confirmed the day's income. Today is a family banquet. The host is a furniture wholesaler named Feng. There are three guests. The session lasts three and a half hours. The reward is 800 and a small red envelope of 150. Nine hundred and fifty dollars. She transferred 500 of them to her mother-in-law's WeChat account, and the note was "vegetable money and Xiaojun's pocket money."

She sat on the bed for a while, took off the silver bracelet from her wrist, put it next to the pillow, and then lay down. She wondered how much her mother-in-law knew. She thought that she roughly knew an outline, which was hard to describe but could be felt - what this daughter-in-law did outside was not an ordinary thing, but the money brought by that thing was real. She thought that her mother-in-law chose not to ask for details, just like everyone chose not to ask for details. This silence is not goodwill, but something more complicated.

There was a detail during that time that Chen Yumin thought about many times later. It was an ordinary working day. At four o'clock in the afternoon, she came back from outside to pick up the order for an afternoon tea party. Her father-in-law came back from the hospital that day, and the hospital said she could go home to recuperate for a while. Wen Jianfa didn't know where he was, he wasn't at home. Her father-in-law was sitting on a chair in the living room with a blanket on his legs. The TV was on. He was not watching TV, he was just looking in that direction.

She entered the door, changed her shoes, and said hello: Dad, you are back. Have you eaten? Her father-in-law said, "After eating, the hospital gave me a packed lunch." She went to the kitchen, washed her hands, and started preparing dinner. Her father-in-law sat outside. After a while, he said: Yu Min.

What's wrong, Dad?

Well...have you been having a hard time lately?

She kept her hands busy washing vegetables. Said: Not bad, nothing.

Um. Whatever you do, your mother and I...

He paused for a long time.

I mean, you worked hard.

She held the dish and washed it under the faucet. The sound of water covered her voice, and she said one word: Yes. Her father-in-law did not continue. She kept thinking about what the second half of the sentence he didn't finish was supposed to be. She probably thought of several versions. One version was: Your mother and I have a hard time, so you have to take more responsibility. One version is: Your mother and I know it's not easy for you, but there’s nothing we can do about it. Another version is that he originally wanted to apologize, but halfway through, he felt that there was no way to explain the matter clearly, so he stopped. She hoped it was the third version, but she wasn't sure.

Wen Jianfa was much more polite to her during that time, and this kind of politeness sometimes made her feel more uncomfortable than arguing. He began to take the initiative to send Xiaojun to school, and sometimes bought fruits and put them on the table. One time he went to the supermarket and asked her if she wanted anything, but she said no. When he came back, he brought three small bottles of the lactic acid bacteria drink she liked to drink, and put it in the refrigerator without saying anything. They haven't argued in about two months. She didn't know if this was a good thing. In this family, quarreling was a contact, a signal that there was something worth fighting for between them. Now there is no argument, this silence is a bit like an agreement that everyone knows but no one says it.

Xiaojun was doing homework one day and suddenly raised his head and asked her:

Mom, what's the name of the job you do?

She was cutting her nails and her hands paused.

waiter.

What does a waiter do?

Just pour water and tea for the guests and make them comfortable.

That's the same thing you do when we have guests at home.

almost.

Satisfied, he lowered his head and continued writing. She swept the nail clippings into the trash can and found that her right hand was shaking a little, not very obvious, but there. She pressed the hand against her leg for a moment, waiting for it to calm down.

Her mother-in-law said something to her in December that she still remembers. It was one night. Chen Yumin came home late, around eleven o'clock. When she came in, her mother-in-law was still asleep. She was sitting in the living room, sewing a piece of Xiaojun's clothes with the lamp on. She came in and the two of them met. Her mother-in-law lowered her head and continued sewing, saying:

Come back earlier in the future, someone nearby will see you and talk nonsense.

Chen Yumin changed her shoes and said: Got it.

You, a young woman, stay so late every day, and people will talk about you.

I heard you, Mom.

I'm not saying anything to you, I'm just saying that you should be careful about what you do and don't let others laugh at you.

Chen Yumin stood up, put the shoes she had changed into neatly, turned around and went into the kitchen to boil water without saying another word. After the water boiled, she walked past her mother-in-law to the bedroom. When passing her, she paused and said:

Mom, I've taken care of Xiaojun's tuition and dad's medicine this month, don't worry.

Her mother-in-law raised her eyes, looked at her, said nothing, lowered her head and sewed two more stitches, and then said: Got it.

Chen Yumin entered the bedroom, closed the door, stood in the darkness for a while, and then lay down. She kept that sentence in her heart for a long time: Be careful, don't let others see the joke. She was wondering who the "other person" her mother-in-law was talking about was. They are neighbors, people in the corridor, people I know in town. The face in the eyes of these people is more important than the 5,000 yuan she brings back every month. It is still equally important, still not that important, but I still have to say it. She doesn't know the answer. She thought that maybe her mother-in-law herself didn't know.

It happened on the last Friday of December.

At noon that day, Sister Mei sent her a private message, saying that she had an order for a family banquet. A boss in Dongcheng, surnamed Lin, had received her three times before and only designated her. The banquet was at seven o'clock that night, at his residence, a standard banquet with four guests and the host, and the reward was one thousand and two, and there was also a red envelope at will. She confirmed, said yes, and started getting ready.

That afternoon, she bought a set of clean black shirts and a dark gray skirt. After putting them on, she looked in the mirror and saw that they were okay. She thought that after this order was over, she could buy Xiaojun the pair of sneakers he had always wanted. He said that everyone in the class had them, but she knew that he was not complaining, he was just talking, and she listened.

She went out at five o'clock, rode to the town to buy some things, and when she came back, she entrusted Xiaojun to her mother-in-law, saying that she would be back late after working overtime tonight. Her mother-in-law was watching a live broadcast of a lecture on elderly health. She said I got it without raising her head. She arrived at Mr. Lin's downstairs at 6:40, which was a newly built finely decorated apartment building. She pressed his intercom, and his voice came from the intercom, saying, come up to the 16th floor. Go straight in. The door is unlocked.

She entered the elevator, pressed the button for the sixteenth floor, looked at her reflection in the metal door of the elevator, straightened her skirt, and licked her hair. The door was ajar, and there were voices inside, more than one person. She opened the door and went in, put on the indoor slippers she brought with her, took off her coat, folded it, and placed it by the door. Then she raised her head and took a clear look at the living room.

Her feet stopped for half a second.

There are five people sitting in the living room. Three of them were men she didn't know. They looked like they were from the business scene. They were in suits or casual clothes. They were about fifty years old, holding teacups in their hands. Mr. Lin was standing by the window, talking on the phone. There was another person sitting on the single sofa, facing her sideways, looking down at his mobile phone.

That person is Wen Jianfa.

Her feet stopped for half a second. That person is Wen Jianfa.

She stood at the door for about two seconds, which felt very long to her. Wen Jianfa felt someone coming in first, raised his head and met her eyes. Neither of them spoke, nor did they show any obvious changes in their expressions. In other words, the changes in their expressions occurred, but they were very small. Only the two of them could see each other's changes.

She recovered first. She took two steps forward and nodded to everyone in the living room, with that familiar expression on her face, gentle, upright, and slightly smiling. She said: Mr. Lin, I’m here. Mr. Lin finished the call, turned around, and said naturally: "Here we go, go to the kitchen to prepare the tea first, and then come out after the food is served."

OK

She entered the kitchen, leaving the kitchen door a crack. She stood there for a few seconds and combed her hair, one by one, like combing her hair. Then she started doing things.

Why was Wen Jianfa there? She later slowly pieced together a clue: Mr. Lin had an engineering contact with Wen Jianfa. During that time, Wen Jianfa was working as a decoration agency and met Mr. Lin through someone. Mr. Lin thought he might be useful and asked him to attend the dinner. What Wen Jianfa knew about her side of things was a vague outline. He might not have thought that Mr. Lin's "accompany" was her. Or, he might have had a bit of a guess, but he didn't push that guess into clarity because he didn't want it to be clear.

Throughout the dinner that night, Wen Jianfa did not take the initiative to look at her once. He talked, drank, and ate with Mr. Lin and other guests, maintaining the courtesy of an ordinary invitee. She came and went during the banquet, serving food, pouring wine, emptying plates, and changing tea. When she passed by him, he picked up the wine glass, not to drink it, but just to hold it, and slowly circled the wall of the glass with his fingers, and then put it down.

During the dinner, a friend of Mr. Lin, the man who talked the most, called her over and said, Xiao Chen, could you sing a song for us? She smiled and said: Mr. Zhang, I'm not very good at singing. How about I give you a cup of hot tea instead. The man laughed twice and stopped chasing. Mr. Lin said: Xiao Chen is not good at singing, but the tea he makes is really good. If you drink it, it will really make a difference. This sentence lightened the atmosphere a little. She lowered her head to get the teacup, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Wen Jianfa turning his head toward the window.

At half past nine, the meal ended and the guests left one after another. Wen Jianfa was the last one to stand up. He stood up, shook hands with Mr. Lin, and said, Mr. Lin, thank you for today. We will have the opportunity to cooperate on this matter in the future. Mr. Lin said okay, okay. Wen Jianfa walked to the door and passed by her. She was collecting the tea sets on the table. He paused for a second. During that second, her hand did not stop. She continued to put it away and stacked the teacups without raising her eyes. He didn't say anything and walked out. She heard the door close.

She continued to clear the table, then went into the kitchen, washed the dirty dishes, wiped the floor, tidied the kitchen, came out and said to Mr. Lin, "Mr. Lin, I'm done here, that's it for today." Mr. Lin paid the money, one thousand and two, and gave another red envelope, saying that Xiao Chen worked hard. I wanted to drink more tonight, but those friends couldn't. I'll call you next time. She said yes, thank you Mr. Lin.

She put on her coat, put on her shoes, picked up her bag, went out, entered the elevator, went downstairs, and walked out of the building's door. The night wind outside was cold, and at the end of December, she zipped her coat to the top.

Wen Jianfa was standing downstairs, leaning against a tree, with his hands in his pockets. Their electric car was parked on the side of the road. He didn't ride away, he was waiting for her. She walked over, unlocked the car, started the car, and said: Let's go.

He didn't move, just stood there, looking at her.

How long have you been there.

Don’t you know where I take my order?

I didn't know it was here.

Got it, let's go.

Yumin.

Wen Jianfa, what do you want to say?

He didn't speak. His lips moved and then closed again. There was something in his eyes that she recognized. It was an expression he would have when he didn't know what to do. It was a bit like anger, but there was shame in the anger, and there was a little dependence in the shame, maybe pleading.

She looked at him for a while, then looked away and said: Go home, Xiaojun is still waiting.

He was silent for a moment and got on the car. She followed him on the car. The two cars drove one after another through the night, with a distance of about five meters in between. These five meters were more clear than ever before.

When they came in, her mother-in-law was already asleep, and so was Xiaojun. Her father-in-law was in the living room that day. He saw them coming in, said he was coming back, and went to the bedroom. She went to Xiaojun's room and took a look. He was sleeping soundly. The quilt was covered and the dinosaur thermos cup was placed on the stool next to the bed. She lowered her head and smelled his forehead, but there was no fever. She squatted beside the bed for a while, not thinking about anything, just being there. Then she stood up, came out, and closed Xiaojun's door.

Wen Jianfa sat at the table in the living room, facing the table, without turning on the light, only the night light at the door was on. She went into the kitchen and boiled water. He walked in from the living room, stood at the door of the kitchen, lowered his head, and said:

Yu Min, you...what the hell do you mean.

What does it mean? You saw it at the dinner party just now, just serving people and pouring tea, nothing else.

I know you have nothing else today, but what about before.

It was the same before.

You pour tea for those people and smile to those people. You...are you doing what a family man does?

She put the kettle on the stove and didn't look back.

Jianfa, let me ask you a question, can you answer me seriously?

you say.

Who paid Xiaojun's tuition last month? Who bought Dad’s medicine? Who paid our family’s loan last month?

He didn't speak.

Tell me, who paid it.

Yumin, I know, but——

As long as you know, what do you mean by what I did? You answer this question first.

The water in the kettle began to make a sound, low and gradually getting louder. She stood in front of the stove, her hands on her belly, waiting for him to speak. He didn't say anything immediately. He leaned against the door frame, his head lowered, and his hands in his pockets.

I didn't... I've been looking for opportunities during this period, about that project -

Wait a minute, right? You said wait a minute, you said it has been four months.

Yumin, you know it's not easy to do things, and I don’t want to—

It's not easy for me to do things, and you don't want to. It's hard for both of us, right? Then Jianfa, who is supporting this family? Tell me who is supporting it.

His jaw moved, he was gritting his teeth, or biting his lip.

Have you ever thought about how I would raise my head when I'm outside...if you do this?

She turned around and looked at him head on for the first time.

You are outside. Where are you outside, Jianfa. Where you are outside every day. Are you someone who works outside?

He didn't answer. The water in the kettle screamed. She turned around and turned off the fire, picked up the kettle, put it aside, was silent for a moment, and then said:

If you want to show me face, okay, tell me what you are using to give me face. What did I do to give you face? Where is your face in this family now? Show me where it is.

Wen Jianfa raised his head, his eyes were red. He wasn't about to cry, it was the kind of red that was held up by something.

Yumin, what you say is so unpleasant.

I know.

She put the tea leaves into the cup, poured the hot water into it, picked it up, walked to him, passed him out of the kitchen, and entered the bedroom, closing the door but not locking it.

The next morning, she got up to make breakfast. Wen Jianfa was no longer there. He went to live with his cousin. This was a default way of easing the relationship between them. He disappeared for a few days and then came back, as if nothing had happened. When her mother-in-law was having breakfast, she talked less than usual. She lowered her head to drink her porridge without looking at Chen Yumin. Chen Yumin knew that some of the sounds last night were probably heard. They were separated by a wall, and in the quiet of the night, the sounds penetrated the wall.

After dinner, she was washing the dishes. Her mother-in-law came in, stood next to her, and said in a low voice:

What happened last night, that kid Jianfa has a bad temper, don't be like him.

Chen Yumin pointed at the bowl and said: Yes.

You too, you have to be steady in everything, family matters should be done in a steady manner, don't... In short, be steady in your work, and don't let others gossip.

Chen Yumin put the last bowl into the dish rack, turned off the water, dried her hands, turned to face her mother-in-law, and said:

Mom, I put the medicine you and Dad took yesterday in the cabinet. It’s enough for two months. I have paid for your medical insurance cards next month and can be opened at any time.

Her mother-in-law was stunned for a moment and said: Yes...I know.

Mom, how's your leg doing lately? Do you want to schedule a follow-up visit this month? I'll send you there.

Fortunately, it just hurts a little on cloudy days, so I don’t need to go.

Okay, then tell me when it hurts.

Her mother-in-law said "Yeah", turned around and went out. Chen Yumin wrung out the rag and hung it on the shelf. Standing in the kitchen, she heard the sound of the TV outside, which was the music of the morning health program. She finished standing in the blank space and then went to wake Xiaojun up.

Wen Jianfa came back three days later. That night he brought back a fish, which he said he saw at the vegetable market and was fresh. He knew that she liked steamed fish. She put the fish away and went to the kitchen to handle it without saying anything. He stood for a while at the kitchen door and said:

What happened last time was that the way I spoke was wrong, I...

You say it.

I am - Yumin, I hope you can stop doing this in the future, and I will think of other ways.

She turned the fish over, scraped its scales, and said, "What can I do?"

I'll look for it again and run around. A friend of mine over there said there is an opportunity——

Jianfa, don’t talk about the opportunities to make friends. Count how many opportunities you have to make friends.

He fell silent.

Your boss Lin, has the dinner tonight been settled?

He didn't answer immediately, was silent for a few seconds, and then said: Well, he said it was possible to cooperate.

That's good. If you complete that cooperation and make steady money, more than 3,000 a month, I won't go out. I keep my word, do you believe it or not?

He glanced at her, and in that look there was gratitude, shame, and something she didn't want to see but had to see - relying on, the look of leaning on another person with all his weight, bending that person but not knowing it, or knowing it but unable to stand up straight. He said: Believe.

She put the fish on the plate, spread the green onion and ginger on it, and said, "Help me get the steamer when the water boils." He went to get the steamer and handed it to her. The two of them cooked the fish in the small kitchen and put it on the table. They asked Xiaojun to come out to eat and his parents-in-law to come out. The five of them sat next to the table, and the steam of the fish rose from the plate.

Xiaojun said: Mom, did dad buy this fish? She said: Yes. Xiaojun said to Wen Jianfa: Dad, you are so kind. Wen Jianfa smiled, but there was something in that smile that prevented Chen Yumin from looking at it for a long time. She moved her eyes away and went to pick up vegetables for her father-in-law, mother-in-law, and Xiaojun.

After New Year's Day, Wen Jianfa received a job from Mr. Lin, which was the coordination of material procurement for a supporting project. It was not a big job, but it was stable. He would earn a fixed income of 2,500 yuan per month, and he would get a bonus if he completed the job. He worked hard and nothing went wrong in the first month. Mr. Lin said he did a good job. On the day he returned home, he sent a screenshot of the two thousand and five thousand transfer to Chen Yumin. She took a look at it and replied with a "good" word.

The frequency of her orders began to decrease after that. I received two calls in February, one call in March, and no calls in April. She was not happy because Wen Jianfa made money, nor because she believed what he said, "I'll figure it out later." She was just calculating, judging, and measuring the gap again, and found that it was narrowing. Although it was still there, it could be filled in other ways for the time being.

She was doing something else at the same time: saving money. She didn't put all the money she received from Sister Mei into the family's public accounts. She saved part of it separately in a bank card in her own name, and that card currently contains nearly 20,000 yuan. She didn't tell anyone. Twenty thousand yuan is not a big amount, but that twenty thousand yuan belongs to her, not to this family, but to herself. She put the card next to the silver bracelet in a drawer. The drawer had a small lock. The lock was very ordinary, but every time before opening the drawer, she would put her hand on it and pause for a second, as if to confirm the existence of something.

At the end of March, she went to the vocational skills training school in the town and signed up for a domestic management course. It was a weekend class, two hours every Saturday afternoon, and the tuition was 1,200 yuan. Her mother-in-law asked her where she was going, and she said: to go to class. What class to take. If you learn housekeeping management, you can open your own studio. Her mother-in-law didn't say anything else, she just said: Why spend that money? You don't know anything. Chen Yumin said: I don’t know anything now, I will learn it after I learn it.

As for Wen Jianfa, she told him directly: I am going to take vocational classes, and every Saturday, you will send Xiaojun off. He said yes.

She met several women in that class, some were divorced, some were from other places, and some were about the same age as her. They drink coffee between classes, sometimes talking about work, sometimes talking about children, sometimes not talking about anything serious, just sitting there and finishing their cups of coffee.

There is a section in the course about "Standardized Management of Housekeeping Services", which talks about how to establish service processes, how to set prices, how to retain customers, and how to protect one's legitimate rights and interests. Chen Yumin sat in the small classroom and copied word by word what the teacher said into the notebook. The notebook had a blue cover. She wrote with a ballpoint pen, writing each item very neatly. She had learned many of those words in her own way, but no one had written them down like this before, turned them into black and white, and turned them into something that could be spoken.

One day in April, she received a call from Sister Mei. Sister Mei rarely makes phone calls, so she usually uses WeChat.

Yu Min, there is an order, high-end, a boss named you, 20,000 yuan per time, the location is in Shenzhen, one night.

She knew what it meant.

Don't go.

Yu Min, please listen to me first. This guest’s background——

Sister Mei, I’m not going, thank you.

She hung up the phone, set Sister Mei's WeChat account to do not disturb, then marked all the messages in the clone's WeChat group as read, and then exited the group. She put her phone on the table and sat on the kitchen mat for a while. She didn't feel any special relief, nor did she feel anything special. She just felt that a certain thing was done, the door was closed, the key was pulled out of the keyhole of the door, she put it away and put it in her pocket.

The door is closed, but what happened behind the door is not closed. It will always be there, like the scar on the vegetable cutting, like the black circle at the bottom of the aluminum pot, like the mirror divided into two halves by the crack, like the white mark on the inner wall of the silver bracelet. She kept all these things.

At the end of May, one Sunday morning, she was cooking in the kitchen. Xiaojun came in, climbed on a stool and sat next to her to watch her. He sometimes likes to sit next to her and watch her do things, not talking, just watching. She was chopping celery, and the sound of the knife was soft and even.

Mother.

Um.

Will you go out to work again in the future?

Yes, mom has to work all the time.

what work to do.

She paused, thought about it, and said: Mom opened one herself, taking care of other people's home affairs, helping them do a better job, clean, tidy, and well.

Is it cleaning?

Not only that, there are many other things, which you will understand when you grow up.

He thought for a moment and said: Then mom is the boss.

Yes, mom is the boss.

He nodded with satisfaction, jumped off the stool, ran out of the kitchen, and ran back again, saying: Mom, I'm thirsty. She put down the knife, took the dinosaur thermos cup over, touched it, and found that the temperature was still appropriate, then handed it to him. He took it, held it with his two little hands, took a big sip, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, said "Ah" and said, "It tastes good." She smiled and said: Go quickly and let mom cook.

He ran out again, his footsteps clattering down the corridor into the room, then silence. She picked up the knife and continued chopping celery. Outside the window, the alley had begun to light up. It was the light of an early summer morning, diffuse but not harsh, illuminating everything clearly: the washing machine box, the towels hanging on the second floor opposite, the green plant planted in a foam box at the entrance of the corridor, and the aluminum pot she placed on the window sill. She finished chopping the celery and put a handful of oil into the pot. The oil begins to slowly heat up on the bottom of the pan, making that slight, even, everyday sound.

At three o'clock in the afternoon on a Wednesday in June, Chen Yumin rode an electric scooter to a bank in the town. After waiting in line for about twenty minutes, he walked to the counter and said to the young female clerk:

I want to open a corporate account, self-employment, and housekeeping service. I have already registered it and this is a business license.

She took out a blue folder from her bag and put the business license, ID card and a document on the counter. The clerk took it, glanced at it, raised his head and asked: Are you the legal person?

yes.

What's the name of the company?

She pointed at the document.

Yumin Housekeeping Service Studio.

The clerk began to enter the information. She stood in front of the counter and watched the screen on the computer arrange her name, ID number and name one by one, turning them into a formal record in the system. She lowered her head and glanced at the silver bracelet on her wrist. The bracelet showed a warm white color in the June sunshine. It was a bit old and worn, but it was still intact and not broken. She turned her wrist up, turned it slightly in a circle, then put her hand back and waited for the clerk to complete the procedure.

Outside the window was an ordinary street in the town. A bus passed by, and an old man riding a bicycle passed by slowly. The owner of a candy store moved a chair out, sat down, picked up a fan, and fanned twice. There was air conditioning in the bank and it was cold. She was a little unaccustomed to the coldness while standing inside.

After filling out the form, the clerk asked her to sign. She picked up a pen and wrote three words in the "Legal Person's Signature" column: Chen Yumin. The handwriting is not beautiful, but it is clear. Horizontal is horizontal, vertical is vertical, and every stroke is settled.