The Remaining Warmth Of Fog Harbor Chapter 7

Besieged on All Sides

Tear stains formed faint salt crusts on her cheeks. Shen Zhiyi crouched by the easel until her legs went numb before she braced herself against the floor to slowly stand up. The scent of turpentine in the studio was diluted by a heavy sense of grievance. On the desk, the sketches blurred by tears curled up in a corner, looking as tattered as her current state of mind.

She didn’t dare delay. The midnight deadline Shen Jiale had set was like a sword hanging over her head, drawing closer with every passing second. Wiping away the remaining moisture from the corners of her eyes, she tremblingly opened her WeChat contacts and scrolled from top to bottom, trying to find someone she could ask for money.

University classmates, fellow artists, former roommates—she scrolled through the list again and again, but her fingertip hovered over the screen, never quite daring to press the call button. It had been six months since graduation, and everyone was struggling to survive in first-tier cities. Rent, commutes, and daily expenses were suffocating; no one had twenty thousand yuan to spare.

Finally, she stopped at an avatar labeled Lin Xiao. She was her best friend from four years of university, now an intern at a design firm, and the only person Shen Zhiyi dared to approach.

Shen Zhiyi took a deep breath, her finger trembling as she started the voice call. Every ring in the receiver pounded against her nerves. The moment it connected, she could even hear her own frantic heartbeat.

Zhiyi? Why the sudden call? Lin Xiao’s voice carried the exhaustion of just finishing work, but it remained gentle.

Xiao Xiao… Shen Zhiyi’s throat was so dry it hurt, and she struggled to suppress her sobs. I wanted to ask if I could borrow some money. Twenty thousand yuan. I am really at my wit’s end. I will pay you back as soon as my commission fee arrives, half a month at most.

After she spoke, there was a few seconds of silence on the other end. Lin Xiao’s tone became troubled. Zhiyi, I just paid my rent this month and bought a digital tablet. I only have a few hundred yuan left for living expenses. I really can’t get it together… Maybe you could ask someone else? Or discuss it with your family again?

Family… Shen Zhiyi closed her eyes, unable to offer a single word of explanation. It is okay, Xiao Xiao. I know things are hard for you too. I shouldn’t have asked so abruptly.

I am so sorry, Zhiyi. Once I get my salary after becoming a full-time employee, I will definitely help you.

No need. Take care of yourself first.

After hanging up the phone hastily, Shen Zhiyi’s shoulders began to shake uncontrollably again. Refusing to give up, she called three more classmates in succession. The answers she received were largely the same: some declined politely, some vaguely changed the subject, and others simply made excuses to hang up the moment they heard the word borrow.

The bitterness of the world’s indifference was magnified infinitely at this moment. She gripped her phone so hard her knuckles turned white. The cold light of the screen reflected off her pale face, making her look exceptionally pathetic.

Just as she was at a loss, her phone vibrated frantically again. The caller ID showed Mother. Those three words were like a bolt of lightning, striking her whole body stiff. She could almost foresee the storm on the other end, yet she had no choice but to press answer.

Shen Zhiyi, you ungrateful wretch! Jiale said you refuse to pay his tuition. What are you trying to do? Do you want to watch your brother fail to graduate? Her mother’s shrill scolding pierced through the receiver, even more ear-splitting than Shen Jiale’s shouting, carrying a deep-seated bitterness and favoritism. I raised you for so long and paid for your university to learn that useless painting. Is this how you repay your family?

Mom, it is not that I won’t give it, I really don’t have it. My commission for this month hasn’t been settled yet, and I am almost behind on rent… Shen Zhiyi explained in a low voice, her words as faint as a mosquito’s buzz.

You don’t have it? You are in a big city like Wugang; a single commission earns quite a bit. You are just hiding it because you don’t want to give it to your brother! Her mother didn’t listen to her explanation at all, crying and shouting like a shrew. I am telling you, Shen Zhiyi, your brother is the only root of our Shen family. If his future is delayed, I will go to Wugang to find your boss and your studio! I will let everyone know how unfilial you are so you can’t stay in Wugang anymore!

I really can’t get the money… Shen Zhiyi’s voice carried a desperate sob.

If you can’t get it, then go borrow it! Sell your paintings! Use your credit cards! Her mother’s voice suddenly rose. If the money isn’t in the account by midnight tonight, I will buy a train ticket immediately, come over, and smash your pathetic studio to pieces! Let’s see how you paint then!

The harsh dial tone sounded again. This time, Shen Zhiyi collapsed into her chair as if all her strength had been drained. The phone slipped from her palm and hit the wooden desk with a dull thud.

Sell paintings, use credit cards, smash the studio… every word from her mother was like a sharp knife stabbing into the things she cared about most. Her studio was her only sanctuary in Wugang, and her brush was her only weapon against a bleak life. Now, her own family was going to crush it all with their own hands.

She looked blankly at the sketches piled in the corner. There were original illustrations she had stayed up all night to create, landscapes she had painted of the Wugang docks, and the profile of Lu Wanheng she had just outlined. Every piece carried her blood, sweat, and passion. But in her family’s eyes, these were nothing more than junk that could be sold or trampled upon at will.

She struggled to stand up, pulled her bank card from her wallet, and inserted it into the ATM by the entrance. The balance popped up on the screen: 1,346.82 yuan. The glaring numbers drove her to complete despair. It wasn’t even enough for the change, let alone the full twenty thousand.

Her credit card limits had long been exhausted from filling the holes her family had created. The pressure of installment payments already weighed on her shoulders; there was no possibility of overdrawing further.

The night deepened, and the fog in Wugang grew thicker, creeping against the glass windows and condensing into fine droplets of water like her unstoppable tears. The warm light in the studio gradually seemed dim. Outside the window, the neon lights were blurred into hazy spots by the fog, making the whole world feel chaotic and oppressive.

Shen Zhiyi curled up in her chair and buried her face in her arms. This time, she could no longer suppress her breakdown. Her soft sobs echoed in the empty studio, carrying endless helplessness and sorrow.

She couldn’t understand why, as children of the same parents, her brother could demand things so righteously while she could only give endlessly. Why the passion she fought so hard to protect was worthless in her family’s eyes. Why, when she just wanted to live a good life, she was always dragged down by the mire of her original family, never even given a chance to breathe.

From time to time, her phone flashed with demanding texts from Shen Jiale. Every word was a threat or an insult. Terms like unfilial daughter, ungrateful wretch, and faking poverty crushed the last of her self-esteem.

She looked up at the profile of Lu Wanheng that had been ruined by ink stains. The faint scent of cedar seemed to linger in the air; it was the only kindness and warmth she had felt during this period. But this warmth was too far away—so far that she didn’t dare touch it, let alone ask for help from a client she had only met twice.

She was a destitute artist who couldn’t even support herself, while he was a high-ranking elite in investment banking. People from two different worlds were never meant to have any further intersection.

The clock hands ticked closer to midnight. Shen Jiale’s ultimatum was imminent, and her mother’s threats circled in her mind like a curse. With no way to borrow money, zero savings, and maxed-out credit cards, she was pushed to the brink—besieged on all sides with no way out.

She slowly reached out and brushed her hand over the watercolor paints on the desk. Her fingertips were ice-cold, and even her heart felt frozen stiff.

Perhaps her mother was right. Her painting was just a distraction from proper work. She didn’t deserve to stay in Wugang, nor did she deserve to have this small studio.

A heavy despair wrapped in fog swallowed her completely. Shen Zhiyi closed her eyes, and tears surged out once more. This time, she didn’t even have the strength to raise her hand to wipe them away.