Qiqi was startled. "So fast? But what about the vegetable vendors? Do they have somewhere to go?"
Although the factory buildings belonged to the old plant, many of those vendors had paid rent and had relied on selling vegetables there to support their families for over a decade. If they were suddenly forced to move, with so many people, would they have jobs to fall back on? Could it be that Director Liu and the others had arranged a new market for them?
Aunt Zhao sighed. "Ah, the demolition office couldn't care less about them. They just brought a bunch of people and tore the place down. Didn't you see the vegetables scattered all over the ground? I heard there was a scuffle at the time, but it was eventually suppressed."
Qiqi didn't know what to say. Aunt Zhao continued, "These days, many shops in the neighborhood have moved out. According to your Uncle Li, Director Liu's team has come up with a new tactic—if they can't force the residents out, they'll tear down the shops. They're determined to turn this area into a no-man's-land. Think about it, with so many people living here, nowhere to buy things, and not even a streetlight after dark, how can we possibly keep living here?"
Aunt Zhao chatted for a bit longer, then lent her bicycle to Qiqi. "Alright, take the bike. Go buy groceries at the supermarket at the end of the street. It's not far from home anyway; Xiao Ming and I will walk back."
Qiqi quickly thanked her, saw Aunt Zhao off, and lingered for a while at the leveled vegetable market before riding away with a heavy heart.
Sigh, she still remembered the first time her mother brought her here. This place had always been bustling and lively, and she never imagined it would change so fast, with everything so different now.
Moreover, the old district where she lived had buildings with distinct local characteristics, some even being historical relics from hundreds of years ago. Didn't the city consider preserving these historical sites? Was it really so good to keep demolishing everything, eventually forgetting history itself?
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The supermarket was a bit far from home, and it took Qiqi over ten minutes to bike there. She went in and bought a bunch of ingredients. Passing by the bookshelf, she saw a stack of various cookbooks—Cantonese, Hunan, Sichuan, all kinds. Remembering Rong Yi's impossibly picky stomach, she grabbed one casually, planning to study it thoroughly so she wouldn't have to deal with his nitpicking every time.
Back home, she followed the cookbook to make a new dish—Coca-Cola chicken wings—along with her specialties: cherry-glazed ribs, braised pork knuckle, stir-fried liver, plus a vegetable salad and spinach and liver soup. She arranged everything on plates and brought them to Rong Yi's bedside.
As expected, Rong Yi praised the Coca-Cola chicken wings highly. Qiqi felt delighted—finally, a dish he liked. It was no small feat!
After the meal, she brewed him a pot of tea, let him sit in the rocking chair and sip it slowly, then went to the kitchen to wash the dishes. Only then did she have time to sit down and study.
She had already missed several days of class. Although she had taken leave, she couldn't fall behind on the coursework. By the end of this semester, she would be in her fifth year, soon entering the internship phase as a trainee doctor at the hospital. While the school had its designated internship hospitals that could allocate spots to students, the better hospitals were usually monopolized by those with connections and strong backgrounds. Of course, for fairness, the school also reserved some spots for ordinary students, but only those with exceptional grades could get them.
As for connections or backing, Qiqi couldn't count on that. She had no parents, no uncles or brothers. Others had backgrounds; she only had her own shadow. So she had to rely on her grades.