An hour and twenty on the road.
By the time the six of them got off at Sheshan Station — the subway stop nearest to Happy Valley — it was seven in the evening. Xu Ye suggested eating first, given how long they’d be inside. Tonight was New Year’s Eve; they were going to be there a while.
So the six of them headed into Baolehui Mall next to the station and sat down at a Sichuan place.
“Hi, here’s our menu.”
Xu Ye took it, passed it to Chen Qingqing, who passed it straight to Zhang Ruowei beside her. Zhang Ruowei checked off two dishes she liked and tried to hand the menu to Jiang Yu and Shen Xinyi, both of whom shook their heads — anything would do.
Zhang Ruowei’s eyes glinted. She smiled and handed the menu to Qin Zhiwei. “Qin Zhiwei, why don’t you order?”
“Me?” He looked flustered. “What if I pick something you all don’t like?”
She smiled. “That’s fine. As long as Shen Xinyi likes it.”
Qin Zhiwei’s face went red on the spot.
Zhang Ruowei prodded, on purpose. “Qin Zhiwei, why are you blushing?”
Xu Ye was not, of course, about to sit and watch his friend get flayed by Zhang Ruowei. He reached over and clapped Qin Zhiwei on the shoulder. “He’s not blushing. That’s just the wax he put on to keep the cold off.” [TL: “防冷涂的蜡” — a stock line from the classic Zhao Benshan sketch Selling Crutches (卖拐), where a con artist explains away a symptom with a nonsense excuse; the phrase has become a shorthand for a transparent, absurd cover story.]
“Please.”
Qin Zhiwei quickly handed the menu back to Xu Ye, kept his head down, and didn’t dare say another word. Under the table, Shen Xinyi discreetly pinched Zhang Ruowei on the thigh.
Xu Ye picked out a few dishes, called the server over, and handed the menu back.
While they were waiting, a WeChat came through from his mother-in-law — asking if he was with Chen Qingqing.
He raised his phone, snapped a group photo of the six of them, sent it to Jiang Meilin, and added a line: “About to eat. We’re going out to countdown tonight.”
Jiang Meilin: “Good. Big crowd tonight — be careful.”
Jiang Meilin: “Got enough money on you?”
Xu Ye: “Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty.”
Jiang Meilin: “All right, you carry on. Talk to you later.”
Xu Ye: “OK~”
Chen Qingqing had already noticed Xu Ye was chatting with her mother. But once she saw him lock the screen, she just looked away, pretending she hadn’t seen a thing.
The food came and the six of them worked through dinner in about half an hour. Coming out of the restaurant, Jiang Yu was already complaining about how spicy it was. Zhang Ruowei said her mouth felt swollen.
Xu Ye, Chen Qingqing, and Qin Zhiwei were all from Jiangzhou; their tolerance was naturally on the stronger side.
Shen Xinyi could take her heat too, which was a fun contrast against her quiet, retiring personality. Seeing Zhang Ruowei and Jiang Yu with their mouths bright red, she asked, “Do you want me to grab something to drink?”
Xu Ye elbowed Qin Zhiwei. Zhiwei had learned by now — he jumped in immediately. “I’ll go. What do you want?”
“Anything’s fine.”
“Water. I just want water.”
Xu Ye: “Six bottles of water, six bubble teas. We’ve all got bags, we can carry them.”
Qin Zhiwei nodded and headed off.
Fifteen minutes went by before he came back with the bubble teas and water in hand, already apologizing. “There were so many people, I was in line forever.”
Xu Ye stashed two bottles of water in his backpack, then held up the bubble teas and handed one to Chen Qingqing.
The six of them left the mall and headed for the bus stop. Happy Valley ran a dedicated shuttle line — free rides straight to the park.
Xu Ye took a couple of sips of his bubble tea, watched Qin Zhiwei trail after Shen Xinyi like a well-trained duckling, and started coaching, thoroughly entertained. “Zhiwei. You know how you can actually read a woman’s social habits by what she drinks?”
“Huh?” Qin Zhiwei was lost.
“Girls who drink bubble tea have a lot of girlfriends.”
“Women who drink red wine have a lot of lovers.”
“Women who drink baijiu have a lot of stories.” [TL: The three-line riff is a common Chinese-internet trope on female drinking preferences and personality — half-truth folk sociology, mostly played for a joke.]
Qin Zhiwei thought about it, decided it sounded plausible, and was about to respond when Zhang Ruowei — who had just finished a sip of water — held up her bottle. “So what about someone like me? Who prefers water?”
“A lot of pee.”
“Hahahaha—”
Jiang Yu, walking alongside, immediately doubled over laughing, tears almost coming. Even Shen Xinyi couldn’t hold it in.
Zhang Ruowei shot Xu Ye a flat look. “What are you laughing at? What are you all laughing at? Where is that even funny?”
Chen Qingqing quietly pinched the back of Xu Ye’s hand, then looked up at him with a “threatening” expression.
The look meant: Stop with this nonsense — Zhang Ruowei’s actually going to get angry.
Xu Ye shook his head and smiled, indicating that Zhang Ruowei could handle a joke like this, then quickly mimed zipping his mouth shut — he wouldn’t say anything more.
Only then did Chen Qingqing look away.
They took the shuttle to Happy Valley. The moment they walked in, Qin Zhiwei gasped, “Oh my god. So many people.”
For a New Year’s Eve, “packed to the walls” wasn’t overstating it.
The vast majority were college students. Plenty of couples too.
While Chen Qingqing was distracted looking at the crowd, Xu Ye quietly slipped his hand into hers, murmuring, “It’s this crowded, I have to hold on to you. Don’t want to lose you.”
She didn’t pull away. His hand was warm, and once he held hers, hers warmed up too. Besides — with a crowd this thick, holding on like this made her feel safer.
Happy Valley was divided into seven themed zones, each with different rides. But with tonight’s crowd, waiting times would be an hour or two easy. The park itself was scenic, though. Xu Ye’s suggestion was to follow the route on the park map and stop at anything with a short line.
Everyone agreed. The six of them fell in behind the crowd. Around nine, they finally got onto their first ride — Gu Mu You Long — which was, in effect, a roller coaster. [TL: 谷木游龙, “Valley Wood Traveling Dragon,” Happy Valley Shanghai’s signature wooden roller coaster.]
Xu Ye and Chen Qingqing took the third row.
Zhang Ruowei and Jiang Yu, the fourth.
Qin Zhiwei and Shen Xinyi, the fifth.
As the coaster began its slow climb, Chen Qingqing tightened her grip on Xu Ye’s hand. Seeing the seriousness on her face, he laughed. “It’s fine. If you’re scared, just close your eyes.”
She closed them immediately.
The three girls in the row behind them, though — Zhang Ruowei, Jiang Yu, Shen Xinyi — were all lit up with excitement. Of the four behind Xu Ye and Chen Qingqing, the most nervous, incredibly, was Qin Zhiwei. It was his first time at an amusement park — his first time on anything this “intense.” As the coaster crept slowly toward the top, he felt his heart come right up into his throat.
He was trying, hard, to stay composed. He did not want a repeat of last time — getting so scared he screamed for his mother.
But fear didn’t really let itself be talked down.
At the crest, together with a shriek from the front row, the coaster dropped — accelerating hard into the plunge. Qin Zhiwei felt his soul get flung clean out of his body. He ripped his throat open shouting, and the sound came out closer to a howling wail than a scream: “AAAH — I’M DYING, I’M DYING!”
Xu Ye shook his head. This is honestly humiliating.
(End of Chapter 170)