They Thought She Was a Wild Girl, Never Knowing She Held the World in Her Hand

I grew up on this street. When I was seven, my dad got drunk, fell into the river, and drowned. My mom took the only three thousand yuan we had and ran off. If the uncles and aunties on this street hadn’t taken turns feeding me, I would’ve frozen to death under a bridge on some winter night. If anyone wants to take away their livelihood, they’ll have to step over my dead body first.

Li Lei was so taken aback that he couldn’t get a word out. His face flushed as red as liver, and he raised a hand to signal his men to drag me away. I was just about to pull the baseball bat I’d hidden behind my back when someone spoke up. “Wait.”

The voice was lovely, as clear and refreshing as ice melting in spring.

I looked up and saw a man in an ivory trench coat standing beside Li Lei. He wore thin-framed glasses and held a black folder. The collar of his shirt was buttoned neatly, and he looked every bit the office worker. He took two steps forward and handed me an ID card. His fingers were fair and clean, his nails neatly trimmed. “I’m Lu Yan, the designer in charge of this neighborhood’s redevelopment project. You can bring your concerns to me. There’s no need for a confrontation.”

The photo on his ID looked more serious than he did in person. It showed him with a buzz cut and a slight frown. His workplace was listed as the Design Department of Xingyao Group.

I stared at his ID for two seconds, then looked up at his face.

Oh, it was him.

I’d seen him at the project review meeting at my company last month. Standing in front of a PowerPoint presentation, he’d explained the redevelopment plan for this old neighborhood. When he spoke about preserving the lively atmosphere of the original night market, his eyes had lit up. I’d been sitting in the front row, wearing a mask. He hadn’t noticed me.

I took the tissue he offered and wiped the mung bean soup off my hand.