When Shao Xue first came back from Africa, she was as dark as if she’d just emerged from a coal furnace.
She rejected several of Yu Dong Ge's video chat requests until, on Mid-Autumn Festival, her mother called her crying, saying, “Other girls are like sweet little comforts to their parents. But my daughter? Not only does she not come home, but now she doesn’t even want to video call me...”
Shao Xue put on a thick layer of foundation before turning on the camera. Yu Dong Ge stared at her in silence for a long moment before calmly asking, “Did you forget to turn on the lights?”
Shao Xue replied, “The lighting isn’t great.”
During her time with the crew, everything was paid for—food and lodging included—so the salary she earned allowed her to take it easy for a couple of months. She leisurely sent out her résumé, eventually landing an interview at a language school.
Her two university degrees were impressive, and she had solid work experience, so the interview went smoothly. She answered the interviewer’s questions without much trouble. But at the end, the woman across from her, closing the folder in front of her with a curious look, asked a personal question.
“Are you really Chinese?”
Shao Xue was caught off guard. “Huh?”
The other person asked, "Are you of mixed Chinese and African descent?"
The company where Shao Xue worked was a Chinese-foreign joint venture linked to the Confucius Institute. There were quite a few Chinese employees there, and a man named Gao Yang, who had graduated from the same university as Shao Xue but over a decade earlier, often helped her with work-related issues. Being alone in a foreign country, Shao Xue was very grateful to him.
Once, during a meal together, Gao Yang suddenly sighed, "Working for others all the time, it just feels pointless."
Shao Xue hadn't really thought much about it. She had food to eat, a bed to sleep in, and made a decent salary, so she felt content with her job.
"Have you ever thought about going solo?" Gao Yang asked her.
Gao Yang was old enough to be considered an uncle figure to her, but since they were colleagues, Shao Xue just called him "Yang Ge" (Brother Yang) out of politeness.
"Going solo sounds exhausting," she thought for a moment. "In a foreign country, messing something up could lead to a lot of trouble."
"You've got me," Gao Yang said, offering her more food. "I've got connections here. If I had a business partner, I wouldn't be stuck in a nine-to-five grind."
Shao Xue deflected the topic with a laugh, "Let's just eat, this dish is pretty good."
And so, she brushed it off until the end of the year.
During that time, she had recurring colds and finally came down with a fever right around the New Year. Her roommate had gone home for the holidays, so Shao Xue was left alone in their shared apartment. With no family or friends nearby, she lay in bed, wrapped in two blankets, coughing relentlessly, her face flushed with fever.
Then someone knocked on the door.
She tried to ask who it was, but her throat was so hoarse that she couldn't make a sound. When she opened the door, she saw Gao Yang and his wife standing there, holding a thermos full of dumplings, looking at her in surprise.
"Yang Ge, Sis-in-law," Shao Xue's eyes instantly welled up with tears. "Why did you come?"
"What happened to you?" Gao Yang's wife hurried in, closing the door behind her. She touched Shao Xue's forehead and quickly sent Gao Yang out to buy medicine.
"We thought, with you being all alone here during the holidays, we should come check on you. How did you get this sick?"
Shao Xue had a lot to say, but it was all stuck in her throat, and when she finally opened her mouth, all that came out was a fit of coughing.
"You poor thing," Gao Yang's wife said, tucking her in and handing her a glass of water. "Just rest. I'll go make you some noodles."
Once she left, Shao Xue sighed in relief.
She clutched her phone tightly, realizing that if they hadn't shown up, she might have ended up calling Zheng Su Nian. Frustrated with herself for always wanting to reach out to him in moments of vulnerability, she shoved the phone under her pillow.
When people are at their most fragile, even a small act of kindness can feel overwhelmingly touching. After Gao Yang and his wife cared for her through her recovery, Shao Xue eventually regained her strength by the time spring arrived. To express her gratitude, she bought a bunch of gifts for them, including an expensive pair of earrings for Gao Yang's wife.
"You're such a thoughtful kid," Gao Yang's wife scolded lightly. "Why spend so much money? We Chinese should take care of each other when we're abroad—that's just how it is."
"To be honest, I've gotten used to being alone all these years," Shao Xue admitted shyly. "You two have been so good to me, it reminds me of the aunts and uncles I grew up with."
She became closer with the couple over time, and eventually learned that Gao Yang had moved to Italy twenty years ago and had two children: a son working in China and a daughter still in high school.
Some time later, Gao Yang approached Shao Xue again.
"Are you going to talk about starting a school together again?"
"Yes," Gao Yang replied, looking troubled. "My daughter is about to start college, and my son is getting married next year. We don't have enough savings for all of this."
Seeing Shao Xue softening, Gao Yang pressed his case. "Schools are a sure bet, especially for us insiders. Don't worry, Shao Xue, I'm reliable."
She mulled over his words for an entire day.
As a teacher, she was stuck on a work visa. But if she started a business, she'd have a path to immigration. Gao Yang and his family had been so kind to her, and this was mutually beneficial, so Shao Xue saw no reason not to help them.
She withdrew her savings from the bank and handed it over to Gao Yang, trusting him completely.
For Shao Xue, the change in her work life wasn't too drastic—it was still just teaching language, only in a different place. Gao Yang took charge of management, and Shao Xue focused on education. For six months, everything went smoothly, and the school grew steadily.
But things started to feel off one evening in autumn.
Gao Yang seemed especially busy, barely showing up more than once a week. When Shao Xue asked him about it, he would brush her off, talking vaguely about paperwork she didn’t understand. His wife, who used to invite Shao Xue to their home for meals, hadn’t done so in a long time. When Shao Xue ran into her by chance, she noticed she wasn’t wearing the earrings Shao Xue had given her.
She had loved those earrings and had worn them constantly since receiving them. This raised Shao Xue's suspicions.
"Yang Ge," Shao Xue asked after class one day, dropping by Gao Yang’s office, "Is there something wrong with the school?"
"Wrong?" Gao Yang looked startled, nearly knocking some books off his desk. "No, no, nothing’s wrong. Don't worry about it. Once things settle down, we'll be able to relax."
Shao Xue nodded, still feeling uncertain as she left his office.
After she was gone, Gao Yang pulled out his phone and called home, "This time, there’s no way around it. We have to leave."
“No other way?” Gao Yang's wife sounded just as weary. “I've sold everything we could back home. This time, we’ve lost everything.”
“What can I do? We’re caught in this wave of bankruptcies,” Gao Yang sighed heavily. “Pack up whatever’s left. Our son said he’ll take us in when we get back to China.”
There was a long silence on the other end before his wife hesitantly asked, “What about that girl, Shao Xue?”
“We're in a crisis. It’s every man for himself now. She’s just a young woman in a foreign country who doesn’t know a thing about running a business. She won't be able to stir up much trouble.”
Shao Xue wiped the classroom’s blackboard clean, humming as she passed by Gao Yang's office.
“Yang Ge, I’m heading out now!”
Gao Yang’s fingers loosened, then clenched tight again. In the end, he hardened his resolve.
“Alright, go ahead.”
Anyone who worked in the language school industry overseas at that time would remember it well—the wave of language training institutions going under, triggering a domino effect as businesses co-guaranteed each other’s debts. Gao Yang’s school was new and couldn’t weather such a storm. With the funding chain broken, he sold off most of his assets just to avoid falling into debt.
But it left him with nothing.
And Shao Xue lost all of her savings too.
After six years of hard work, all that remained was barely enough to buy a ticket back to China. Because of the school’s collapse, her visa became a problem as well. Like a puppet on strings, Shao Xue mechanically completed the paperwork, spending her last night abroad at the airport.
She couldn’t reach anyone in Gao Yang’s family. She collapsed into her seat on the plane, her body feeling like it was falling apart. As the plane took off, the pressure change made her eardrums vibrate with a sharp, piercing sound.
It felt like a long, empty dream.
When she finally woke, the plane had landed in Beijing.
After six long years away, Shao Xue hadn’t imagined she’d return home like this—completely empty-handed.
She stood at the airport exit for a while. It was nearly midnight, and the hall was much quieter than during the day. Shao Xue lifted her phone, took a picture of the empty terminal, and posted two words on her social media: “Hang on.”
But almost instantly, she deleted the post.
The lump in her throat seemed to find an outlet at last. She pulled up the handle of her suitcase, lifted her chin, and walked out into the night.
The wind was cold.
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