Purpose - Chapter 13

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Character Reference list

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Ming rounded the corner of his neighborhood at an easy, practiced pace. He had run an extra mile that morning in a futile attempt to clear his mind. Sleep had been impossible the night before. A faint pang of guilt had surfaced over not returning the kerchief immediately. Now, in the light of a new day, he knew he wouldn’t. It was a tangible link to her. To her scent, her voice, the very essence of her presence. He glanced at his watch and broke into a sprint for the final stretch to his home, frustration leading to his steps.

He took his time in the shower. Under the strong stream, he willed the water to refresh his body and cleanse his thoughts. Instead, his mind replayed the same vivid fragment. Her flushed face, the rose-pink of her cheeks, her wide, sparkling eyes. He recalled the subtle, soft fragrance of roses and peony that seemed to linger around her, and the light, almost buoyant way she moved, as if her steps were a series of quiet, joyful secrets. He groaned, shutting off the water with more force than necessary. The shower wasn’t helping. She had taken up residence in his mind, and he couldn’t, didn’t want to…evict her.

He needed a reason to see her, to be near her. The preservation certification seminar was a perfect excuse. Attending the staff meeting was another. Yuelan had been visibly surprised when he’d volunteered to handle the archive briefing; he had never offered before.

The truth was simple. He needed an excuse, any excuse, to be in the same room. His knowledge of her was maddeningly scant, pieced together from their brief exchanges and the dry facts of her academic profile on the university server. Yet, he sensed something profound within her. Something he wanted to be a part of. He was captivated by her duality, timidity and strength, resilience hiding behind caution. He wondered what it would take for her to stop retreating every time he drew near.

He dressed with deliberate care, a new very conscious ritual. He kept his haircut appointments, something he did not before, shaved every morning without fail, and double checked no suit jacket had a single wrinkle or hint of shabbiness.

Before leaving, he took the mint-green kerchief from his dresser. He unfolded it for a moment, the delicate peonies blooming in his palm, then carefully refolded it and placed it in the inner pocket of his suit jacket, close to his heart. He hurried out, got into his car, and drove to the university guided more by muscle memory than conscious thought. His mind already several steps ahead, imagining a chance encounter.

Ming parked and went directly to the canteen. The morning sun warming the back of his neck. The air inside smelled of fresh coffee and steamed rice.

“Good morning, Dr. Zhao! What can I get for you today?” The student behind the counter beamed.

“Good morning,” Ming replied, scanning the menu board. “What do you recommend for breakfast today? The sandwiches, or something else?”

“The congee is wonderful today. It’s a Taiwanese style with chicken, mushroom, and bamboo shoots.” She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice in mock conspiracy. “Far better than the sandwiches.” She turned to gesture at the pastry display, little paper plates lined up like sweet offerings. “We also have lemon scones, red bean pancakes, chocolate-orange croissants, doughnut sticks, and matcha crepes with cream.” She turned back, her smile returning.

“One order today, or two?”

“Two,” Ming said, the word out of his mouth before he could consider it.

“Separate bags to go, right?”

“Am I getting that predictable?” He gave a soft, slightly uncomfortable laugh.

“Oh, no, Sir, not at all!” she said, waving a hand. “We think it’s sweet.” A giggle escaped her.

Ming cleared his throat, the warmth in his ears betraying him. “Well then. Two hot Americanos. One black, room for water, the other two creams, two sugars. Two congees. Can you pack the sides separately? Pickles and the chili bamboo shoot for each. Oh, and, in a separate bag, a red bean pancake.”

“You got it.” She nodded, her movements a blur of efficiency. She packed the congees into insulated thermoses, the steam fogging the lids, and arranged everything neatly, one order on a tray, the other in a neat takeaway bag.

“Here you go. Just tap here.” She handed over the laden tray and bag.

Ming tapped his meal card, gathered up the tray and bag, and turned to leave. As he did, her voice, conspiratory to the next customer in line, carried clearly to his ears:

“I wish I had someone who bought me breakfast every morning.”

A flush crept up his neck. He kept his eyes forward, walking with deliberate strides toward the employee stairwell, the tray balanced like a secret.

On the second floor, he paused at the corridor’s mouth, checking its emptiness. Satisfied, he moved swiftly to Mary’s desk and all its beautiful pink chaos. He centered the takeaway bag and thermos precisely, then snatched a pink post it note. His pen hovered for a second before he hurriedly scrawled, “I hope this keeps you warm today.”

He retreated to his office, the soft click of the door a relief. Sitting at his own desk, he opened the congee. The rich aroma of chicken and mushroom bloomed in the air. He took a tentative spoonful, then another, more deliberate. He added the pickles and bamboo shoots to the top.

The student was right. The congee was very good.

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Zhao Ming’s morning progressed smoothly. He spent a majority of the time reviewing the archive schedule and making revisions based on email requests from professors and students.

When he reached the philosophy department, he told himself he wasn’t looking for her planned hours. But he was, and he couldn’t lie to himself. His eyes found her name. Scanning her week, he noticed her long teaching days were also blocked for research. Quietly, he made adjustments, shifting her research hours away from the exhausting tail-end of teaching and student interaction. A practical decision, he reasoned. He also noted that her long days were his short ones. Perhaps she might need something, a pick me up, in the afternoons… or for breakfast.

His mind drifted to the few items he’d glimpsed on her desk: tins of floral tea, a packet of White Rabbit candies, an empty seaweed chip wrapper. Her workspace was an explosion of pink, piled with books and half-discarded treats. He wondered what her life was like at home. Did she cook? Did someone cook for her? Remembering Yuelan’s mention of a list of domestic workers, he assumed not. What were the names of the children in the photographs framed beside her monitor?

Lost in thought, he was jarred by the ringing phone.

“喂.” Wèi! (Hello)

“大哥!” Dàgē (Big Brother)

“妹妹.” Mèimei (little sister)

“Are you busy at lunch? I want to treat you.”

“What do you need? You haven’t set the lab on fire recently? No emergencies?”

“Funny. No. But we did accidentally discover a novel virus in one of the plant samples. Six students had to be quarantined.”

“Not surprised.”

“Tsk. You are coming to 妈妈 (mama) birthday dinner tonight?”

“Of course.”

“Do you have a gift for her?”

“Of course.”

“Of course,” she mimicked, “of course you would. Come to lunch and help me pick something. I don’t have time after work.”

“Alright. You pay. One hour only. I have things to do this afternoon.”

“Ahh, 哥哥 (Gēgē, brother) so mercenary. How about the noodle place next to the north campus? There’s a mall next door.”

“Only noodles? For my expert help?”

“I’ll treat you to hotpot later! I need a gift. Can’t go empty-handed. 爸爸 (Bàba, dad) would lecture, and I don’t want to hear it.”

“Maybe you should shop on time, then.”

“I’ve been busy in the lab. I’m close to a new publication, just replicating experiments. Breakthrough any day. You know how it is.”

“Not enough to forget 妈妈’s birthday,” he said dryly.

“Yes, yes, perfect child. Meet me at 12:15? 好不好,(Hǎo bù hǎo, yes or no)?”

“好.”

He hung up, shook his head, and turned back to his revisions. The image of a pink desk, flushed cheeks and the question of a suitable gift now vied quietly for his attention.

Thank you for reading I appreciate your time. Many Blessings!