It was harvest season. I called my ex, and he hung up immediately. Then he texted me instantly. [Not getting back together. Don't look for me.] [Don't think I don't know. You just want me to bring my bodyguards to pick corn for you again.] I blinked, sitting on the ridge of the field, reading the message three times. Finally, I got up and continued picking corn. I couldn't figure it out. Mark had been clueless for three years. How did he suddenly discover the truth? 1 Staring at the messages, I zoned out for a long time. Mark didn't text again, and I didn't reply. Uncle Joe leaned over. "Hey, Mia. Is your gangster boyfriend not coming to pick corn this year?" I stood up, dusting the dry grass off my butt. "Uncle Joe, they're bodyguards. It's a civilized society, what gangster?" "When you have time, ask your son to buy you a smartphone. Watch some news, old man." I went back to picking corn. Behind me, Uncle Joe spat on the ground. "Pfft. Just got dumped by a rich guy. What's she pretending for?" A sharp corn leaf sliced my hand. I hissed in pain. Grandma heard and hurried over. "Let me see. I told you to wear gloves, but you wouldn't listen." I sucked the dirt off my palm and spat it out. "Go back inside, Grandma. Grandpa will start fussing if no one's watching him." Before Grandma could speak, the sound of a tractor rumbled in the distance. I froze, staring. No wonder Uncle Joe called Mark a gangster. He was sitting at the front of the tractor, followed by a dozen bodyguards in black suits. Some people's Prince Charmings ride white horses; mine rides a tractor. Uncle Bill stopped the tractor at the edge of the field. Mark and I stared at each other from a distance. After a long silence, he frowned and walked over to me. "Getting back together is off the table. I was just passing by." "Bored at home. Taking a walk." "Oh," I said. A rich city boy taking a dozen bodyguards for a walk in a cornfield thousands of miles from home. Unique. He frowned at my hand. "Mia, when will your family stop planting this damn corn?" I turned back to the corn, ignoring him. Mark didn't care. His bodyguards expertly took off their black suit jackets, tossed them on the corn pile, and got to work. It was early October, but the midday sun was still scorching. Many bodyguards took off their white dress shirts too. As I worked, my eyes wandered. Damn, those pecs are huge. Those abs look hard. Suddenly, a dark face appeared between two corn stalks, scaring the life out of me. Mark was wearing white gloves, his face black as thunder. "Put them back on!" He grumbled, watching the bodyguards put their shirts back on, then glared at me, grinding his teeth. "Indecent! Public nuisance! Shameless!" A bodyguard muttered, "What public nuisance? We're in the middle of nowhere." Before I could speak, Mark exploded. "Fine, rural nuisance then! So many girls and wives working in the fields, who are you showing off for?" "If you hook someone's wife and she runs off with you, can you afford the responsibility?" My head was pounding from his noise. I moved to another row. He seemed determined to annoy me, following me to the opposite ridge. I sighed, looking at the young master who had picked exactly three ears of corn in half an hour. "I'll pay your bodyguards' wages. You go rest, it's hot." Mark, born pale, was now flushed red from the sun. "Who wants your money? Even if you feel bad for me, I won't get back with you that easily." He stubbornly kept picking. I had nothing to say. 2 Many hands make light work. Soon, a small portion of the field was cleared. Checking the sun, I invited them home for lunch. I took out my phone and realized Grandma hadn't replied to my text. But a dozen people were already following me to the house. The gate wasn't open yet, but the neighbor's gate opened. "Mia, you're back?" I paused, looking at the man waving at me. "Brother Sam, you're back too?" He nodded. "Back to pick corn." Mark whispered bitchily in my ear. "Brother Sam... sounds like a cheesy romance novel character. Sleazy." Grandma heard the noise and came out. "Mia's back? Your grandpa soiled his clothes again, I had to rush back..." She froze, looking at the crowd. Grandma pulled me aside. "Why didn't you tell me there were so many people?" "It's fine. I'll take them to town for noodles." I turned to tell Mark there was no food at home, but he had already marched inside. Grandpa was sitting shirtless in the yard, sunbathing. Mark grinned, showing all his teeth. "Grandpa! Long time no see!" Grandpa slowly turned his head and smiled at him. "Second Aunt is here? Did your dad wet the bed again?" Mark's smile froze. My forehead was covered in black lines. I rushed to drag him away. "Let's go. Lunch." Mark followed me. Town was far, so I borrowed Uncle Bill's tractor. Uncle Bill used to haul pigs in it. It was clean now, but Mark's dog nose could still smell it. "I'm not sitting in that." I nodded. "Then don't eat." Mark glared at me angrily. "Mia, is this the attitude of someone begging to get back together?" "You use me every year and then show your true colors. The corn isn't even halfway done and you're giving me attitude? You don't want to get back together?" He climbed onto the tractor as he spoke, sitting next to me. "Shotgun!" He looked smug as his bodyguards climbed on. I started the engine, chugging forward. What shotgun? The front of the tractor didn't even have seatbelts; it was a bench seat. As many butts as could fit, that's how many shotguns there were. The noodle shop in town was instantly packed by us. The owner looked terrified, face pale. Probably thought we were there to smash the place. Mark picked out the green onions with disgust and asked me, "When are you going back to the city?" I stirred my noodles. "Not going back for now." Mark froze, putting down his chopsticks. "What do you mean?" I slurped a noodle. "What else? City life is tough, I'm coming back to the village." "I didn't call you to get back together. I wanted to ask if I could borrow your bodyguards to pick corn. You know how it is." I sighed. "Here, we bury our dead in our own fields. The cornfield you stepped on today? My parents and ancestors are under there." A bodyguard nearby sneezed and started eating faster. Mark stared at me. "Grandpa and Grandma can't let go of the land, and I can't let go of them. Someone has to do the work." "I tried hiring locals, but they ignored me. Said I went crazy working in the city, hiring people for such a small plot." I pouted. "I'll pay market rate. You don't have to come every year. I'll cover their travel and board." Screech— The chair scraped loudly against the floor. Mark's chest heaved, his cheeks puffing in and out. "Pick your own damn corn, idiot!" Watching Mark stomp away angrily, I didn't bother chasing him. The bodyguards looked at each other, unsure whether to leave. I finished my noodles and walked out with the anxious bodyguards. Seeing their young master sitting on the tractor, the bodyguards collectively sighed in relief. Mark sat in his "shotgun" seat, turning his head away from me. 3 The tractor bumped along. Mark finally couldn't take it. "Mia, you're doing this on purpose, right? Aiming for every pothole?" I shook my head innocently. That's just how country roads are. Mark barely ate breakfast, picked corn all morning, and skipped lunch because of his tantrum. His resentment was thick enough to summon ghosts. "I'm gonna be sick! I'm gonna throw up in your car, see how you return it!" He thinks this is his luxury sedan? Vomit is hard to clean? I'll just hose it down when we get home. Good as new. Mark hadn't eaten. Grandma and Grandpa were napping. I went to the kitchen to make him noodles. Mark was in the yard fighting the rooster. Every year he comes, my rooster attacks him. Watching the man-versus-chicken chaos, I cracked two eggs into the noodles. This was the third year of my relationship with Mark. Break up, make up, break up, make up. We met at a company party. He was my boss's friend. My boss got drunk and asked me, the intern, to drive. My first move was backing the car into Mark's bumper. Three years together. He treated me well, but never introduced me to his family or friends. Colleagues told me the class gap was too big. I couldn't tell if Mark was serious. But every time I broke up with him, he agreed. And every time I asked to get back together, he came running back for a kiss. Like being together was fine, and being apart was fine too. This was the third month after our tenth breakup. The corn was ripe. I took leave from work. I didn't expect Mark to follow. Twenty minutes ago, he posted on Instagram, tagged at a bar in the city. Ten minutes later, he was here with bodyguards picking corn. I'm not stupid. He must have been staying at the motel in town recently. Such a spoiled rich kid staying in that dump? I wonder how long he's been there. I planned to ask him tonight. Some things need moonlight to be said clearly. I brought the noodles out. Mark was talking to someone with his back to me. Seeing me, the person peeked around Mark. My face dropped instantly. "Mia, your boyfriend is here and you don't treat him well? You can bring him to our house to eat." I shoved the bowl into Mark's hands and glared at the man. "Uncle Joe, why aren't you napping? What are you doing here?" "We don't need you worrying about our family business." Mark held the bowl and reached into his pocket. When will he fix this habit of throwing money at people when he's happy? He pulled out a red envelope. I didn't even know when he prepared it. He tried to stuff it into Uncle Joe's hand. "Uncle Joe, right? Thanks for looking after Grandpa and Grandma when Mia and I weren't around." Uncle Joe's eyes lit up seeing the thick envelope. He reached for it. "Mia, your boyfriend is sensible. Knows how to respect elders." I gritted my teeth, snatched the envelope, glared at Mark, and shoved it back into his pocket. "He's not my boyfriend. We broke up." "Uncle Joe, you're a grown man. Why are you asking for handouts from juniors?" Uncle Joe's face twisted. He forced a stiff smile. 4 "You little..." I watched his retreating back. Turning around, I saw Mark had put the noodles on the table. "Not good?" I frowned at him. Mark looked unnaturally pale, eyes a bit red. "If I'm not your boyfriend, I'm not. Why speak so harshly?" "Mia, I'll make you regret this!" I watched Mark stomp away, baffled. What now? Just because I told that old man he wasn't my boyfriend? I didn't get him. But seeing the bodyguards resting under the tree leave with him, I sighed. Leaving is good. I shouldn't have called him. Maybe I was too tired. Corn picking made me delirious. The sun was too hot. I wasn't thinking straight when I called. I went back inside. Grandma was still napping. Grandpa was muttering to himself on the stool. I took the bowl of noodles and ate slowly. Cooked is cooked. Can't waste it. But I ate to the bottom and didn't see the two eggs I put in. I chuckled. Mark, that psycho, ate the eggs and left the noodles. Grandpa stuffed a huge red envelope into my hand, dancing with joy. "Mia, red envelope." I stared blankly at the envelope. Identical to the one Mark tried to give Uncle Joe. Only this one was bursting at the seams. My heart hurt. I wanted to ask him tonight if he was serious about us. But the male lead ran away. People busy with farm work don't have time for romance. I napped for a bit, then headed to the field. But when I got there, I froze. The huge cornfield was cleared. Piles of corn were stacked, waiting for Uncle Bill's truck. Even the stalks were bundled. Uncle Joe stood in his field, voice loud and pointed. "The little vixen knows how to hook men. Didn't even feed him lunch, and he ran to the field and finished all the work." I didn't have the energy to argue. My heart was burning, and so were my eyes. I felt like the answer I wanted, the one Mark never gave, was right in front of me. I took out my phone to call Mark. Hearing the tone, my heart went cold again. Mark blocked me. He left one message on WeChat. [Mia, if you don't want my love, taste my hate!] Me: ...
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