At that same moment.

In a restaurant at Baolong Plaza in Pudong, Wang Shiyu was having lunch with two high school friends — the kind of close friends people call their inner circle.

The first meal she’d had with her dorm mates after starting university had been at this very restaurant. Now she was sitting in the same spot Xu Ye had sat in that first night, staring off into the middle distance.

Her two friends had matching haircuts — the same blunt-fringe princess cut [TL: 公主切 — a popular salon style across China in this period, characterized by a straight fringe and softly layered sides] — probably a trend back home.

The one in the white spaghetti-strap dress was named Du Jiaqi. She’d been watching Wang Shiyu space out since they sat down, and finally couldn’t help herself. “Shiyu, what are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s obviously not nothing — you’ve been somewhere else since we got here. Something’s on your mind.”

The other friend, Fang Sisi, jumped in with a knowing smile. “You’re not thinking about Xia Zhuo, are you?”

Xia Zhuo was Wang Shiyu’s high school boyfriend. Technically they still hadn’t broken up, but once graduation came and Wang Shiyu ended up in Shanghai while he went to a technical university somewhere in the northeast, the distance had quietly done its work.

Wang Shiyu shook her head with a small laugh. “We’re going to break up sooner or later.”

“Break up?” Du Jiaqi looked surprised. “Don’t you still like him? You two were great in high school — everyone was jealous of you.”

Wang Shiyu said it plainly. “How many long-distance relationships actually make it? And since I got to university, I’ve realized I don’t think I like him anymore.”

Fang Sisi pressed. “Then why not just break up with him already? You’ve basically been ignoring him lately — he keeps messaging me trying to find out what’s going on with you.”

Wang Shiyu immediately shook her head. “I am not being the one who does the breaking up. If I get to university and dump him straight away, doesn’t that make me look terrible?”

Du Jiaqi and Fang Sisi exchanged a glance and said nothing.

Wang Shiyu continued, as if reasoning it through for herself. “If I just stop responding, eventually he’ll be the one who brings it up. That’s cleaner.”

“So if you’re not thinking about Xia Zhuo, what are you thinking about?”

“There’s a guy in the Finance department at our school. Really, genuinely exceptional. I think I might have feelings for him.”

“You’re going to chase him?”

Wang Shiyu let out a sigh that sounded too old for her age. “He already has a girlfriend. I’m trying to decide whether to just give up now, or…”

“Come on, Shiyu. Half the school had a thing for you in high school. Practically nobody could catch your eye. And now you’re at university and you’re developing a crush?”

“You don’t understand. He’s actually different from other guys.”

“Different how?”

“It’s hard to explain. Handsome and a little bit dangerous, but genuinely driven. The first time we met was here, at this very restaurant. The second I saw him, my heart started going fast.”

That description sharpened both Du Jiaqi and Fang Sisi’s curiosity considerably.

Wang Shiyu wasn’t exactly lacking in options herself — even in high school, boys from other schools had come to confess to her. For someone like her to be this affected, whoever this was had to have something real.

…

That afternoon, Xu Ye and Qingqing and her three roommates finished exploring the rest of Yuyuan Garden and made a stop at the City God Temple. [TL: 城隍庙 — one of Shanghai’s oldest Taoist temples, located within the Yuyuan complex, housing several halls dedicated to different deities] The complex had no shortage of halls — the Hall of Huo Guang, the Hall of Taisui, the Hall of Three Officials, among others.

The roommates, predictably, were most interested in the Hall of the Moon God. [TL: 月老殿 — a shrine dedicated to Yue Lao, the Taoist deity of love and marriage, best known for the red string of fate that connects destined couples] Xu Ye was most interested in the Hall of the God of Wealth.

After leaving the gardens, the group found a by-the-hour karaoke venue [TL: 量贩式KTV — a chain-style all-inclusive karaoke format where you pay for time in a private room with unlimited beverages included, very popular for student groups] in a nearby shopping complex. Music conservatory students, it turned out, had essentially no inhibitions when it came to a microphone. One by one they went through song after song.

Xu Ye sat on the sofa playing audience. After the seventh or eighth song, someone shoved a microphone toward him.

“You guys are doing great — I’d just be embarrassing myself up there.”

“Come on, come on.”

“Just one song.”

“You’re a grown man. Stop being so precious about it.”

Out of excuses, he took the microphone from Zhang Ruowei and asked, “What should I sing?”

Shen Xinyi laughed. “How about a duet with Qingqing?”

Qingqing refused before the words were even fully out. “I am not singing with him. Make him do it alone.”

“Fine, pick something yourself.”

Xu Ye stood in front of the song selection screen, scrolling through the charts.

2014 had no shortage of hits. August had brought Never See You Again; July had given everyone Youth Training Manual; June had Where Did the Time Go; May had An Ordinary Road. And of course Little Apple and I Really Like You had been at the top of every chart since spring. [TL: a quick survey of some of the biggest Mandopop and domestic hits of 2014, many of which defined the year’s cultural soundtrack in China]

None of them appealed to him. He went back further and picked a song from 2005.

It was called Small Love in a Big City. [TL: 大城小爱 — “Big City, Small Love,” a 2009 song by Jay Chou, released on his album The Era. Known for its gentle, sweet melody and intimate urban romance lyric, it became one of his most beloved softer ballads]

The intro started.

Zhang Ruowei, Shen Xinyi, Jiang Yu, and Chen Qingqing settled back expectantly.

“Your dark hair tips curl into a circle
Wrapping around every thread of longing I feel for you…”

The song wasn’t technically demanding — Xu Ye moved through it like he’d sung it a hundred times. His voice suited it perfectly, warm and unhurried, and within the first few lines, three of the four girls on the sofa were looking at him with an expression that could only be described as smitten.

Qingqing had heard him sing before. Her roommates hadn’t.

The surprise on their faces when he started was everything.

“My thoughts are all of you, my heart is all of you
This small love feels so sweet inside the big city
I speak only of you, everything is you
This small love in the big city falls only for you…”

When the last notes of the gentle love song dissolved, the three roommates erupted — screaming, cheering, the whole performance. Xu Ye set down the microphone, checked the time, and said, “All right, all right. We’ve had plenty of fun, plenty of singing. Let’s find somewhere to eat.”

“Let’s go, let’s go.”

After some discussion, they settled on eating near the Conservatory. The school was right in the center of the city, which meant restaurants in every direction within walking distance.

Twenty minutes on public transit brought them back, and the five of them walked into the IAPM Mall [TL: 环贸商场 — an upscale multi-level shopping center in Xuhui District, close to the Conservatory, popular with students and expats alike] near the school. Eight floors in total; restaurants mostly on the fourth, fifth, and sixth. They’d just reached the elevator when—

“Zhang Ruowei!”

A voice came from behind them. Xu Ye turned to find two guys around his age heading their way.

Zhang Ruowei frowned. “Li Junfeng? Zhang Xiaobei? What are you two doing here?”

“Getting dinner. Same as you, apparently.”

The one called Li Junfeng had been wearing sunglasses. He took them off now, glanced at Xu Ye, and asked, “And this is?”

“Qingqing’s boyfriend,” Zhang Ruowei said, then turned to Xu Ye. “These are classmates of ours.”

Li Junfeng hadn’t let anything show — but Xu Ye caught it anyway, a flicker of something in his eyes when he looked at him. Envy, quietly tucked away. Xu Ye smiled back and nodded, a greeting in one gesture.

“You’re all here for dinner?” Li Junfeng asked.

“Yeah.”

“Join us, then. My treat.”

Zhang Ruowei looked to her roommates, uncertain. Her roommates looked to Xu Ye. They’d all gotten to know him well enough by now, but Xu Ye had never met Li Junfeng or Zhang Xiaobei — they wanted to know if he was comfortable being pulled into dinner with two strangers.

Turning it down would look petty.

So he nodded, smiling easily. “Fine by me.”

The elevator doors slid open right on cue. Xu Ye reached over and took Qingqing’s hand as he stepped in.

She tried to pull free. Tried again. His grip didn’t give.

She looked up at him. He was already looking down at her — and his expression had something in it that wasn’t usually there.

Something that looked a lot like possession.

Qingqing understood, somewhere underneath the thought, what he was doing. She stopped trying to take her hand back. Let her small hand stay enclosed in his, the warmth of his palm carrying all the way through to somewhere she couldn’t quite name.

And without quite meaning to, she shifted her weight slightly — just a fraction — closing the remaining space between them.

(End of Chapter)