Chapter 26: My First Paycheck

An ambulance siren sounded outside while we were at work.
I craned my neck to look. Several people were hurrying back and forth. A little later, the ambulance drove away.
When someone came inside, Weiwei stopped her.
“What happened?”
“Mrs. Huang fainted again.”
“Is it serious?”
“I’m not sure.”
Mrs. Huang?
Surely it couldn’t be the one I knew.
“The Mrs. Huang who cleans the floors?” I asked.
The woman thought for a moment.
“Yes, that’s her. She’s the only older woman here with that surname.”
“Does she faint often?” I asked Weiwei.
She nodded.
“Only going by what I’ve heard, but I think this is the third time. Apparently, she’s undernourished and has low blood pressure.”
That day, I received the first wages I’d ever earned.
It was only a little over a thousand yuan, but holding it brought a jumble of feelings I couldn’t quite untangle.
Most people bought something for their family or friends with their first pay.
“What did you do with your first month’s wages?” I asked Weiwei.
She looked puzzled for a moment, then understood.
“Oh. I gave it all to my mum.”
“Was she happy?”
“Very. What about you? What are you going to do with yours?”
“Buy presents for my family. But I might not have enough.”
“I can lend you some.”
“No.” I shook my head. “It wouldn’t be the same if I borrowed the money.”
“True. Let me think… How about gloves? It’s so cold. You could buy everyone a pair and still have plenty left over. Unless your family would think that was too small a gift.”
Then she had another idea.
“I can knit gloves. If you’re interested, I could teach you. Buying yarn and making them yourself would mean more.”
“Yes! Let’s do that.”
It was a wonderful idea. Not only would the presents be more thoughtful, I’d learn something too.
At school, there had been moments when I’d envied the girls who knew how to knit.
Weiwei took me to a wholesale market to buy yarn.
I recognised the ageing white building at the Dayue Road junction. Green moss filled the gaps between its wall tiles, and rust stains streaked the surface.
We’d often driven past it, but it had never occurred to me to go inside.
Nor had I imagined the astonishing assortment of things hidden there.
Objects I remembered from childhood, things I no longer saw anywhere else, turned up all around us.
Red paper lanterns hung in layers, decorated with simple painted designs.
Before I’d even started school, those were the lanterns we played with during the Lantern Festival. At night, we lit red candles inside and carried them around.
Sometimes a gust of wind would set the whole thing alight. We used to compete to see whose lantern lasted longest.
Then battery-powered plastic lanterns appeared, in all sorts of elaborate shapes. Eager for something new, we abandoned the paper ones.
Looking back now, I still preferred them. There had been a special kind of fun in playing with them.
There were cotton fabrics printed with flowers and plants, woven bamboo cradles and all kinds of pretty little trinkets.
I bought more than a dozen lanterns at once: bright red, pink and pale red. Some were painted with large red peonies or yellow lotuses, others with delicate plum blossoms or birds playing among branches.
The New Year was approaching. I could take a few out for the Lantern Festival and keep the rest as mementoes.
Weiwei advised me to buy bracelets and earrings elsewhere.
“The ones here are imitations. They look nice, but they’ll tarnish within a month. You could try a style here, though. If you like it, buy a proper one from a shop.”
Everything in the market was crowded—the people, the goods, the stalls themselves. Most shopkeepers had claimed a little extra space outside their entrances.
There was something old-fashioned about both the sellers and the shoppers, as though they’d stepped out of another time.
For a moment, it felt as if time had turned backwards.
Choosing the yarn was entirely Weiwei’s responsibility.
What kind did we need? How many needles? What was a fair price?
I knew none of it.
“If you come back here, bring me,” she warned. “Otherwise, you’ll get overcharged. They start high. Usually, you can offer a little less than half and get it for that.”
So there was another world I’d never encountered.
I’d thought that studying abroad and travelling had shown me everything.
Today, I realised how vast the world really was, and how much of it I knew nothing about.
Until now, I’d only seen its glittering side.
Lately, most of my time had been spent with Weiwei.
Ji Feiyang was away inspecting the other hotels in the chain. Even when he returned, we didn’t necessarily see each other. He would stay a night or two, then leave again.
After what I’d said to him that night, I felt too awkward to seek him out.
For several days, I applied myself diligently to learning how to knit gloves.
Eventually, Weiwei gave a defeated sigh.
“Gloves are too difficult for you. Let’s try scarves.”
Excellent.
A scarf looked much easier: one long strip, knitted from beginning to end. Five separate fingers were another matter entirely.
But once I actually started, scarves proved difficult too.
The tension had to stay even. A dropped stitch could throw everything off. Pretty patterns required learning different stitches.
After finally finishing a third of one, I held it up.
My heart sank.
There was only one word for it.
Hideous.
With grim determination, I unravelled it and started again.
By the third attempt, my patience was gone.
I tossed the ball of yarn into Weiwei’s lap.
“Master, please save me.”
“No chance. Four scarves? Where would I find the time? I’m exhausted after work.”
“Please help. I’ll never forget your kindness. Tell me what you want, and I’ll get it for you. Or shall I take you out for a lovely meal? My treat.”
“What do I want? Lots of things. A huge sparkling diamond ring. A luxurious two-hundred-square-metre apartment. A black BMW. And, most importantly, a handsome, rich man who’ll be faithful to me.”
Her words, her tone, even the look in her eyes were nothing like the Weiwei I knew at work.
I frowned.
“That sounds about as difficult as knitting a scarf.”
“Your family’s fairly well-off, aren’t they, Yijun?”
“Well… we do all right.”
“You’re friends with Miss Jiajia. Most of her friends come from families with money or influence. Which is it with your dad?”
Feifan Group was a household name, but its owner kept a low profile and rarely appeared in the media. As a result, outsiders knew very little about the Tang family.
I didn’t dare tell her that Dad owned it.
First, it might change our friendship.
Second, I’d always been warned not to reveal my identity casually. There was a risk of kidnapping.
It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Weiwei. Perhaps I would tell her when the right opportunity came. Saying it now would feel too much like showing off.
And third, Tang Yijun was hardly doing well for herself at the moment. I was ashamed to bring up my family.
“I… don’t really know how to explain it. Never mind. Let’s get back to the scarves.”
“Fine. It wouldn’t be hard to find out if I wanted to.”
“You’re so nosy.”
One look at the misshapen, half-finished scarf made me miserable again.
“Weiwei, please help. Even if you only knit a little.”
“You pampered girls… Oh, forget it. Just buy them ready-made. If I knit them, they won’t mean any more than shop-bought ones.”
“All right. I surrender. I’ll buy some now and make them another set once I’ve learned.”
Weiwei looked at me.
“I envy girls like you. Born to be princesses. People like us are just weeds.”
“You’re a weed?”
I’d never thought of her that way.
She was pretty and clever with words. If anything, she was a bright, blooming flower.
“I am. But perhaps I won’t always be. Yijun, do you think…”
She broke off.
“Never mind. We’re from different worlds. You wouldn’t understand.”
“If… if there’s ever anything I can help with, tell me. I’ll do my best.”
I took her hand, feeling a little unsure of myself.
Helping people wasn’t something Tang Yijun had much experience with.
“I’ll hold you to that. Don’t go back on your word.”
“Don’t worry.”
“I’m glad I made friends with you,” she said, sounding touched.
Just then, her phone vibrated.
A text message.
She gathered up the yarn.
“Leave the scarves to me. I’ll have them ready the evening after tomorrow.”