Pei Youwei and Wang Ruxue had been classmates in middle school.
It was a funny coincidence, really. Neither of them had originally planned on settling in Jiangzhou. Two years ago, Pei Youwei came back and opened the bar. About six months after that, she ran into Wang Ruxue. They’d been close enough back then, and now that they were both in the same city again, they met up every so often.
Wang Ruxue watched Xu Ye head toward the microphone and leaned over. “Youwei — who’s he?”
“Xu Ye. My summer hire. Funny kid.”
“Just a summer hire, huh.”
Chen Qingqing sat quietly beside them. She reached for the beer, poured a small amount into her glass, and took a slow sip.
For someone who’d never drunk before, beer was not what she’d been expecting.
One sip. Glass back down.
That’s awful.
How does anyone actually enjoy this?
The thought had barely formed when Pei Youwei smiled over at her. “Not great, right?”
Qingqing nodded.
“Nobody likes it the first time. But it gets you eventually.”
Just then, a backing track began drifting out of the speakers.
Two seconds in, Chen Qingqing recognized it. Sunny Day. [TL: 《晴天》(Qíng Tiān) is one of Jay Chou’s most beloved songs, released in 2003. It’s warm, nostalgic, and has remained a staple of karaoke and live performances for over two decades.]
“The little yellow flowers of the story drifting since the year I was born the childhood swing swaying with the memories all the way until now…”
Pei Youwei rested one hand on the table, her fingers tapping a quiet rhythm against the surface as she listened. She glanced back at Xu Ye with a warm, satisfied smile.
Wang Ruxue was genuinely caught off guard. She’d grown up with this song — it had been everywhere during her university years. She hadn’t expected someone Xu Ye’s age to sing it with this much feeling.
She drifted for a moment, then caught herself and looked over at Chen Qingqing.
Qingqing was staring at her beer glass, expression neutral, as if everything around her had nothing to do with her at all.
Wang Ruxue let out a quiet breath. Then almost laughed at herself.
What am I even worried about.
A girl like Qingqing isn’t going to fall for someone that easily.
She smiled to herself and asked Zhou Ying to bring her some hot water — she was driving later and couldn’t drink.
After Sunny Day, Xu Ye moved through a few more songs — JJ Lin’s Jiangnan and Drunk at Red Cliff, then Wang Leehom’s City Love and Fallen Leaves Return to Their Roots. [TL: All four are beloved Mandopop classics by JJ Lin (林俊杰) and Wang Leehom (王力宏), two of the biggest names in Chinese pop music from the 2000s onward.]
He didn’t know many songs from before 2014. Mostly just the hits that had stuck in everyone’s memory.
As for songs from after 2014 — he didn’t dare touch them. The last thing he needed was someone asking what he was singing and having to explain that it hadn’t been written yet.
After rattling off that run of songs, his throat had gone dry. He stepped off the stage and headed to the counter for some water.
Pei Youwei pointed at the beer on the table. “Here, Xiao Xu — have this.”
“Isn’t that what the lady ordered?”
“She’s not drinking it. Don’t let it go to waste.”
Xu Ye walked over without hesitation, picked up the glass, poured himself half a cup, and knocked it back in one go.
All three women stared at him.
Because the glass Xu Ye had just drank from was the one Chen Qingqing had used.
The tips of Qingqing’s ears, hidden behind her hair, went faintly pink. Wang Ruxue opened her mouth to say something — then Chen Qingqing abruptly stood up and walked toward the bathroom.
Wang Ruxue swallowed her words.
Fair enough. It was already done. Bringing it up now would just make it worse.
This kid has absolutely no self-awareness.
Pei Youwei tugged Xu Ye aside and murmured, “So — what do you think? Pretty girl, right?”
“Pretty, yeah. Too bad she’s a mute.”
Wang Ruxue, who was mid-sip, nearly choked on her water.
A mute?
Who on earth told you that?
Xu Ye was still going. “That’s how it works though, isn’t it? Life gives with one hand and takes with the other.”
Pei Youwei looked at Wang Ruxue with barely concealed curiosity.
Wang Ruxue deadpanned: “She just doesn’t talk much.”
“…Wait.”
Xu Ye blinked. “She can speak?”
Wang Ruxue said nothing. Her expression said everything.
Obviously.
Chen Qingqing came back from the bathroom to find Xu Ye looking straight at her.
She wasn’t used to that.
At school, her cool demeanor kept everyone at a careful distance — no one held eye contact with her for long. She had the natural bearing of someone untouchable, and most people took the hint. Boys especially.
Xu Ye, apparently, had not received the memo.
He’d already overstepped last night. And now here he was again.
“You can talk?”
Qingqing paused, registered that Wang Ruxue had accidentally given her away, and turned to her with clean, unhurried finality. “Auntie Wang — let’s head back.”
“Of course. Car’s just up the road — wait at the door and I’ll pull around.”
“Okay.”
Xu Ye could tell she had no interest in talking to him. He wasn’t going to push it. He’d already learned his lesson — the hard way, and with the wrong girl. He knew exactly what that road looked like now.
The prettier the girl, the more dangerous she is.
He was just about to head back to the mic when Pei Youwei stood up and slung an arm around his shoulder.
“Xiao Xu — walk her out.”
“It’s like ten steps.”
“Go.”
“Fine.”
Xu Ye stepped forward and held the glass door open.
Chen Qingqing paused a moment, then walked through.
He followed her out and cleared his throat. “You shouldn’t be out this late by yourself. Lots of sketchy people around at night.”
Qingqing stopped under a streetlamp. And for the first time, she spoke directly to him.
“Are you talking about yourself?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Inside just now — you were staring at my legs.” A beat. “And you knew that cup was mine. You still—”
“The legs, fine, I’ll admit that,” Xu Ye said immediately. “But the cup — I genuinely had no idea.”
“Mmm.”
Xu Ye felt the sting of that single syllable. And had absolutely no defense against it.
So what if he looked? She was right there. Any guy with functioning eyes would have looked. That’s not a crime.
Wang Ruxue pulled the car up to the curb.
Chen Qingqing got in without looking back.
Xu Ye watched the car pull away, then turned and headed inside.
In the car, Qingqing looked out the window at Xu Ye’s retreating figure.
The composed, untouched expression she wore like a mask softened — just slightly — into something that was almost a smile.
What an idiot.
One little bluff and he folded completely.
“Xiao Xu.”
“Hm?”
“You didn’t get her WeChat?”
“No.”
Pei Youwei looked at him like he’d just wasted a winning lottery ticket.
“Xiao Xu. I set that up for you. What happened?”
“Boss, stop playing matchmaker. Couldn’t you tell she was annoyed with me?”
“Annoyed about what?”
“She said I was being a creep — said I was staring at her legs. Hand on my heart, I glanced over twice.”
Pei Youwei burst out laughing, shoulders shaking.
Xu Ye crossed his arms, completely unrepentant. “Look, in all fairness — if a guy’s not going to appreciate a nice pair of legs, what exactly is he going to appreciate? It’s just human nature.” [TL: Xu Ye’s last line is a riff on a Chinese internet slang phrase — 男人不好色能好什么？”How are you?” — roughly meaning “if men weren’t visually appreciative, what would they even be?” The “How are you” is a sardonic non-sequitur often tacked on as a punchline.]
(End of Chapter)