By the time they left Happy Valley and got back to the hotel, it was two in the morning.
None of them had ever stayed up that late before, and they were all flagging. Back in the room, Xu Ye sent Qin Zhiwei off to shower first, then messaged Chen Qingqing and got her to come out of the room opposite.
Chen Qingqing pulled the door open, baffled. “What is it?”
“Here.” Xu Ye finally handed over the watch he’d bought that afternoon, then held up his own wrist and grinned. “New Year’s present. I’ve got one as well. I nearly forgot to give it to you.”
Chen Qingqing opened the outer box on the spot. Inside lay a silver-white women’s watch, obviously the matching half of Xu Ye’s, and beautifully made. It wasn’t expensive, but for a couple of university students it was more than good enough.
“I had them take the strap in. Try it for size — if it’s not right, I’ll take it back and have them adjust it again.”
Chen Qingqing pushed her sleeve up, baring a length of pale wrist, and fastened the watch onto it. She gave her hand a little shake and smiled. “It’s a perfect fit.”
Xu Ye smiled too. “Then go and get washed and have an early night. No rush getting up tomorrow — sleep in.”
Chen Qingqing nodded obediently, and before she shut the door she said good night, rather playfully.
That long night was finally over.
Xu Ye barely slept a minute of it, though — because for a hotel that looked reasonably decent, the walls between the rooms were not remotely soundproof.
The next morning Qin Zhiwei got up full of energy. “It’s New Year’s Day. What are we doing today?”
Xu Ye came straight back with, “Are you sure it’s New Year’s Day? There was a woman next door shouting Daddy all night. I damn well thought it was Father’s Day.”
“Why the hell didn’t I hear any of it?”
“Your snoring was louder than the room next door. It’d be a miracle if you had.”
Qin Zhiwei gave a sheepish laugh and didn’t dare say anything back.
The hotel did breakfast, but only until ten, so at half past nine Xu Ye messaged the group and woke Chen Qingqing and the rest of her dorm.
The six of them washed and dressed in a hurry, went upstairs to eat together, and started working out what to do with the day.
“We’ll conserve our energy in the hotel this morning, then find somewhere to go this afternoon. What does everyone want to do?”
“I want to get my nails done.”
“Let’s go shopping.”
“We could do pottery.”
“…”
They all talked over each other, everyone with an opinion. Xu Ye had had only a few hours’ sleep thanks to the noise and his head was still fuzzy; he had no energy for any of it.
Zhang Ruowei cut across the conversation. “We were out all last night. Let’s not put ourselves through anything today. I say we find somewhere quiet, eat snacks and watch a film.”
“And where exactly are we going to find somewhere quiet?”
“How about my house?”
Everyone looked up at her. Xu Ye had almost forgotten Zhang Ruowei was a Shanghai local, because there wasn’t the faintest trace of an accent in the way she spoke — not like Yang Fei, the other local, who was forever tossing out bits of dialect mid-sentence: you little brat, is your brain broken.
Xu Ye said, “There’s a lot of us. Wouldn’t that be a nuisance?”
Zhang Ruowei explained, smiling, “My dad works in Australia, and my mum spends most of her time over there too. Apart from the month around New Year, there’s nobody in the house most of the time.”
Jiang Yu jumped straight in. “Is it far from here?”
“Not far. Twenty minutes on the bus.”
“That close?”
That settled it for Xu Ye. “Then once we’ve eaten we all go back to our rooms and rest a bit longer. We leave at half eleven, hit a supermarket first for food and drinks, then go to Zhang Ruowei’s.”
“Agreed.”
“Agreed.”
“Should we have lunch before we go?”
Xu Ye asked, “Zhang Ruowei. Is your kitchen usable? I can cook.”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course I’m serious.”
“The kitchen’s fine, obviously, but you’ll have to buy the ingredients yourself.”
Xu Ye nodded. “We’ll get them at the supermarket, then.”
“Okay.”
…
Zhang Ruowei’s house was in Songjiang District. It wasn’t in a busy part of town, but it was a detached villa with its own gate and yard.
Owning a villa in Shanghai — two hundred square meters, three floors — put you ahead of more than ninety percent of the country.
The house had an old-fashioned look to it, a kind of dated European style; it had clearly been standing a long time. Push the gate open and the first thing you saw was a clean, tidy little courtyard. Once Zhang Ruowei had ushered them all in, she added, “When I was small there were actually a lot of flowers and plants out here. But after my dad went abroad there was nobody to look after them, so in the end we just paved it over with stone.”
Zhang Ruowei dug her keys out of her bag and opened the reinforced door into the living room, then walked straight in. The living room was large, with a big sofa in it, though the sofa was under a dust sheet, along with most of the other furniture. The room itself was still very clean.
“Do we need to take our shoes off?”
“No, just come in.”
Zhang Ruowei pulled the dust sheets off and got Xu Ye and the others seated, then went and threw the main breaker.
“Should we put the stuff we just bought in the fridge?”
Xu Ye smiled. “No need. It’s already eleven — I’m starting now. Zhiwei, come and help me.”
Zhang Ruowei opened the kitchen door and said, giggling, “I have precisely zero talent in the kitchen, so don’t count on me for anything in there.”
“Fine. You’re on dishes afterward, then.”
Zhang Ruowei made an indignant noise. “Why do I have to wash up? Why can’t your Qingqing do it?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“I couldn’t bear to.”
“I have no words.” Zhang Ruowei rolled her eyes, left the kitchen to Xu Ye, and went off to the living room.
The others had already got the television on in there. Jiang Yu sat in the middle with Chen Qingqing on one side and Shen Xinyi on the other, both of them with their heads resting on her shoulders. Jiang Yu worked the remote through everything currently airing, found nothing she wanted to watch, and searched up Empresses in the Palace instead. The four of them settled in to watch it together. [TL: 《甄嬛传》, the 2011 Qing-dynasty palace drama — a colossal hit in China and the sort of series people rewatch endlessly.]
In the kitchen, Qin Zhiwei washed vegetables and talked to Xu Ye as he worked.
“Xu Ye.”
“Mm?”
“I feel like after last night, things between me and Shen Xinyi have moved forward a step.”
“I noticed.”
“So what should I do next?”
“Your school’s close to theirs. From now on you go and see her often. Ten thousand messages on your phone aren’t worth ten sentences said in person.”
Qin Zhiwei dropped his voice. “So when do I get to hold her hand?”
Xu Ye kept chopping. “There’s a technique to it. You can’t just ask her whether you can hold her hand — she’ll turn you down for certain.”
“Then what do I say?”
“You can say: ‘Your hands are so small.’ ‘Let’s compare hand sizes.’ ‘I heard girls’ hands are really soft.’ ‘How are you this much paler than me?’ ‘Your hands smell amazing.’ ‘Your nails look great today.’ ‘Can I read your palm?'”
Qin Zhiwei said, “Holy shit.”
(End of Chapter 173)