Chapter 43: Inner Voice

Before dinner, Qi Yan found an excuse to slip outside and happened to see Li Lan alone by the pool, washing vegetables. Sneaking over, he whispered, “Hey, let me ask you—Uncle Yan, he’s Xuanxuan’s relative, right? Does he know you and your sister?”

Li Lan nodded. “We’ve met before. My sister almost always stays at Xuanxuan’s house when she’s on business trips to Thailand, so it’s not surprising we know each other. Uncle Yan is a really cheerful elder, no distance at all between him and us kids. I heard he did business for decades in Malaysia, Laos, and Myanmar—he’s an expert on Southeast Asia.”

Qi Yan glanced toward the living room, then asked, “What about the girl who came with him? Xuanxuan said she’s her cousin. But the way you looked at her just now seemed a little off.”

At this, Li Lan paused in his washing, hesitating. “Actually, I’m not totally sure. She has a certain aura, very much like yours, but not as intense.”

“What do you mean by aura?” Qi Yan pressed.

“Well…” Li Lan scratched his head, about to answer, when Li Ruoke suddenly appeared behind them, tapping them with a stalk of celery. “Still chatting? Hurry up, there are a lot of people eating tonight… Really, you boys can’t be left alone in the kitchen, must be watched. Qi Yan, you’re done loafing, right? Come help me with the mantis shrimp, we’re having Tom Yum Goong tonight.”

Before Qi Yan could protest, she dragged him away, her strength overwhelming his resistance.

Once in the kitchen, Qi Yan couldn't help but ask, “What’s with you today? You’re acting strange.”

Li Ruoke smiled. “You’re the strange one. Listen, Uncle Yan and Xuanxuan’s cousin will probably stay here tonight. Tomorrow, let’s forget about business and tour some scenic spots in Bangkok with Xuanxuan.”

Qi Yan looked at her deeply, then shook his head. “Old Li, I admit you’re skilled at lying, but sometimes you’re not very convincing. Why did you really bring me to Thailand?”

Li Ruoke paused mid-chop, turning with confusion, “What do you mean why? Didn’t I say? To let you get familiar with supply channels and the environment—purely business.”

Qi Yan pursed his lips, then looked away, focusing on peeling shrimp. “Heh… Old Li, whatever you’re hiding from me, I just want to say… I’m not stupid. We’ve worked together for a little while now, you know me. Even if I act indifferent, it doesn’t mean I don’t think things over.”

“Why? You think I’d sell you off or something?” Li Ruoke felt increasingly uneasy, but tried hard not to let it show.

Qi Yan waved her off. “I’m not trying to interrogate you. I believe you’re a good person, with no ill intentions toward me. Back at Yang Han’s, you were the one who saved me, so I chose to trust you. Honestly, there aren’t many people I truly trust.”

The conversation grew heavier. Li Ruoke put down her work, staring at him. “You’re so young, why are you always so guarded?”

Qi Yan met her gaze. “That’s what I want to ask you. Even if you feel some affinity, isn’t it too casual for a boss to treat an employee like me? You’ve never even bothered to ask about my background or family.”

Li Ruoke cleared her throat, turning aside awkwardly. “I’m not some big company, why be so thorough…” Even she found her words unconvincing.

Qi Yan was silent for a while, then drew a deep breath. “You and Lan are orphans, right? Actually, I’m a lot like you. I lost my closest kin young, too.”

Li Ruoke was stunned; it was the first time she’d heard Qi Yan talk about himself.

“When I first started middle school… my mother passed away. Not by accident, but an illness that caught my father and me completely off guard—esophageal cancer. Do you know what kind of pain people go through with that disease? Even swallowing becomes agonizing.”

He spoke seriously. “I wasn’t a well-behaved kid like Lan. I was mischievous, didn’t do well in school, loved to fight. My dad worked a lot, so my mom managed everything at home. But she never hit me, her scoldings were always gentle, almost powerless. She was kind to everyone, rarely angry.”

“Most importantly, my mother was deeply influenced by my grandparents—she was a devout Buddhist from childhood. In my memories, there was a porcelain Guanyin statue at home, and she never missed burning incense morning and night. The censer was always full.”

“I always thought someone as gentle and pious as my mother should, if not wealthy, at least be rewarded by fate. She taught me that, too. But in the end… she endured nearly half a year in a room smelling of disinfectant, her illness worsening day by day, finally succumbing to the agony of cancer before she even turned forty.”

At this point, Qi Yan wiped his hands, lit a cigarette.

Whenever he felt tense, troubled, or depressed, his craving for cigarettes intensified.

“Don’t mind me—I picked up this bad habit back then.” Qi Yan shook his cigarette pack, then tilted his head back as if struggling to hold back tears. “Since then… I completely lost faith in the gods people worship.”

“Whether there are gods three feet above our heads or not, it has nothing to do with me. Even now, when I visit temples, it’s just to keep friends company, out of respect and courtesy, merely for show. Who’d have thought I’d end up selling Buddha amulets someday?”

“Now, I’d rather believe in a vengeful ghost than those so-called gods! What do you think? Seems extreme, doesn’t it? But that’s just how stubborn I am… I admit I’m short-sighted, can’t let go.”

“Not trusting people or things easily—it’s because I fear disappointment… I guess I’m the sort who looks tough outside but is soft and fragile inside.”

Li Ruoke listened for a long time. Having lost her own parents young, she didn’t comment, even if her outlook was different.

Finally, she managed a comforting phrase, “Buddhists believe in the next life. I’m sure your mother will be compensated in her next incarnation.”

Qi Yan drew a deep breath, half-smiling. “Do you really think so?”

“I can’t say for sure, but we have to hope for it… don’t we?”

Qi Yan stubbed out his cigarette, grinning. “Alright, alright, I actually hate these heavy, sorrowful moods… I really dislike mutual confessions. Let’s keep preparing dinner… Tch, what kind of shrimp did Lan buy? So much mud!”