Before dawn the next morning, Zhang Siyu left with her combination-lock suitcase. Wen Ning was already awake, but he didn't know how to face her.
When he got up, he found her bedroom door open, her quilt neatly folded, and a kettle of boiled water and a note on the table.
The note held only a few words: I'm leaving. Take care.
Wen Ning folded the note and put it in a drawer, then stood in the doorway for a while without saying anything.
Lu Ming came out of his room yawning and asked, rubbing his eyes,
"Siyu left?"
"She left."
"She really didn't take so much as a cloud with her."
Lu Ming muttered this, then yawned again.
But the moment Zhang Siyu left, the shop's bathing service ran into trouble.
Wen Ning's shop bathed little spirits and trimmed their fur.
When Zhang Siyu was there, she was skilled and good-tempered, and she chatted with the little spirits as she washed them. The spirits from the nearby hills all asked for her by name. Now that she was gone, and Wen Ning was often away, the job naturally fell to Lu Ming.
Lu Ming had never done anything like this.
That afternoon, the shop's regular customer, Squirrel Spirit, came by.
This time, instead of finding Zhang Siyu, he was shoved into the tub by Lu Ming.
Lu Ming rolled up his sleeves, pulled on a scrubbing mitt he'd dug up somewhere, and gave Squirrel Spirit's back a vigorous scrubbing.
Squirrel Spirit squealed under the onslaught, all the fur on his tail bristling.
"Hey, Wen Ning! Can your employee be a little gentler? This is flesh! Flesh! Not a cleaning rag! Why are you wringing me out now? Where did you find this guy?"
Lu Ming kept working and said