National Holiday, Day One.
“Sweetheart, come eat!”
Day Two.
“Son, food’s ready.”
Day Three.
“Come eat!”
Day Four.
“Are you going to die in there? It’s past ten, get up.”
Day Five.
“Get out of my sight. You’re giving me a headache. I’ve got your father to look after as it is — now I’ve got both of you.”
Day Six.
“What kind of university student leaves their suitcase splayed open on the floor? When exactly are you going back to school?”
Poor Xu Ye. The welcome he received at home declined by measurable degrees with each passing day.
By the sixth day, he’d become a general nuisance to the entire household — but that afternoon, Wang Yuxin, back in Jiangzhou after a few days out sightseeing with her parents, came straight to find him.
“Xu Ye gege~”
“Xu Ye gege~”
Still lying in bed, Xu Ye called toward the door. “It’s open.”
Yuxin turned the handle and walked in. One look at Xu Ye lying there shirtless and she covered her eyes. “Xu Ye gege, why aren’t you wearing clothes?”
“It’s my own room. Why would I wear a shirt? And what are you covering your eyes for? I’ve seen you running around without a stitch on when you were little—”
“Aiyo~” She stamped her foot and cut him off. “Don’t bring up childhood stories!”
Xu Ye sat up, grabbed the bag of snacks he and Qingqing had picked up at the supermarket, and held it out. “Since when do you get embarrassed? Come on, sit down and tell me where you’ve been.”
“Just Wuyuan.” [TL: a scenic county in Jiangxi province, known for its well-preserved traditional Huizhou architecture and autumn landscapes — one of the more popular domestic tourism destinations during the National Holiday week]
“Was it fun?”
Yuxin shook her head vigorously. “Not really. People absolutely everywhere. Didn’t you and Qingqing jiejie go anywhere?”
“We did. Movies on the first, barbecue and crawfish on the third, zoo on the fourth.”
Yuxin looked deeply envious. “I should’ve stayed home.”
“Why?”
“Then I could’ve gone with you.”
“Absolutely not,” Xu Ye said immediately. “What would I want a little tagalong like you around for?”
Yuxin shot to her feet, aggrieved. “Xu Ye gege, that’s too much. I’m not talking to you anymore. Hmph.”
She made for the door. He grabbed her arm. “All right, all right — I was joking. Sit down.”
“If you’re mean to me again, I’m telling Qingqing jiejie.”
Seeing her lower lip actually trembling, Xu Ye pulled her back over with exaggerated gentleness, voice going soft. “Aww, look at you. Come here, let gege give you a hug~”
“Xu Ye, your aunt’s here and you can’t even come say hello, and now you’re—”
Zhang Hong had walked to the door, pushed it open — and found her shirtless son dragging Wang Yuxin toward him by the arm.
She picked up the nearest book from the desk and came at him. “I raised a monster! Xu Ye, are you even human?!”
“Mom! Mom! Mom! Yuxin and I were just messing around!”
Zhang Hong wasn’t listening. Book already in motion, she was two steps away when Yuxin stepped between them.
“Dà yí, it’s not what you think! Xu Ye gege was just playing with me!”
“Xu Ye. Have you no sense of decency? Yuxin isn’t a little kid anymore. You can’t treat her like one.”
“She’s still just a kid.”
“She’s already a young woman.”
In the physical sense, the line between childhood and womanhood in a girl arrived with far less ceremony than the cracking voices and Adam’s apples that marked it in boys. To Xu Ye, whose mental age was pushing thirty, Wang Yuxin still read as a small child — and likely always would.
“Yuxin, come with me. Stop letting your Xu Ye gege be a bad influence. I swear that boy gives me a headache just looking at him.”
…
That evening, Xu Ye messaged Qin Zhiwei to come by at nine the next morning — they’d head back to Shanghai together.
Zhiwei’s holiday had unfolded much the same way: hand-and-foot service for the first few days, followed by becoming a household irritant by the end. He’d been ready to return to campus yesterday.
After a brief exchange, Xu Ye considered messaging Qingqing but decided texting felt flat. He sent her a video call instead.
Downstairs, Qingqing was watching television when her phone rang. She already knew who it would be — besides her three roommates, he was more or less the only person who called her. And the only person who called at night.
She slipped on her house shoes, took the phone upstairs, and answered at the landing.
“What do you want?”
“We’re leaving tomorrow morning at nine. If Auntie Wang can’t drive us, we’ll call a cab.”
“I’ll have Auntie Ruxue meet you at the gate.” [TL: Wang Ruxue — Jiang Meilin’s assistant and Qingqing’s longtime helper, introduced in the handoff notes, making a brief reappearance here]
“Sounds good.”
“Anything else?”
“That’s it.”
“Then I’m hanging up.”
“Don’t — talk to me. It’s been so long.”
“We went to the zoo together the day before yesterday.”
“One day apart is like three seasons apart. It’s been nearly two days — that’s basically six seasons of waiting.”
Qingqing turned her face away from the camera so he couldn’t see her smile.
“Where’d you go?”
“You’re annoying.”
“Why won’t you show your face?”
“Don’t want you to see it.”
“Then let me see your legs~”
“I’m hanging up.”
“Wait, wait, wait.”
She didn’t actually hang up.
Xu Ye pivoted. “What did you do today?”
“Nothing much. Oh — well, went swimming with my mom.”
“Swimming?”
“The pool in the complex. Everyone went on trips, so it was just the two of us this afternoon.”
“Why didn’t you invite me?”
“Can you even swim?”
“I could learn.”
“I don’t think swimming is really what you’re interested in.”
“???”
“You want to see me in a swimsuit.”
“Do you know me this well already?”
“Yes.”
“Then how about you be my girlfriend?”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The call ended.
Qingqing sat in her chair, face completely flushed. Her lashes trembled. She bit down lightly on her lip, both hands curled around her phone, heart hammering as if it might find its way out through her ribcage, breath coming a little louder than usual.
Meanwhile, Xu Ye sat on his bed sending message after message.
Xu Ye: Why’d you hang up?
Xu Ye: If you don’t answer now, I can always ask again in a while.
Xu Ye: See you tomorrow morning then. Get some sleep.
Xu Ye: Goodnight.
He had no way of knowing that five small words had kept Chen Qingqing awake for most of the night.
Just left the brow — yet rose to the heart. [TL: the closing line of a Song dynasty ci poem by Li Qingzhao (李清照), one of the most celebrated women poets in Chinese literary history — “才下眉头，却上心头” (just left the furrowed brow, yet rose once more to the heart) describes how longing disappears from one’s expression only to deepen inside, inescapable. That Xu Ye’s question should summon this image for Qingqing is the chapter’s most elegant note]
(End of Chapter 90)