From returning to school until bedtime, Jing Xichi was busy with the same task. His inspiration came from taking shelter from the rain at the supermarket with Huan’er—the checkout counter had two screens displaying everything inside unless someone deliberately hid in the surveillance blind spots. No one felt at ease leaving Auntie Hao alone at home, so would installing cameras help?
After returning to school and researching several models, Jing Xichi first called Song’s father. As soon as he explained his idea, the other end immediately agreed, “Good, good, good. I hadn’t thought about installing home cameras. I’ve been worried about leaving someone alone when both your mothers get called away suddenly.”
“Should we discuss it with Auntie Hao?”
“What’s there to discuss? I’ll make this decision!” Song’s father took charge completely. “Xichi, you understand these things, hurry and look into it, the sooner the better.”
Though that’s what was said, before Jing Xichi could finish researching the cost-effectiveness of several products, Song’s father called again, “Your Auntie Hao agreed and wants me to thank you. She said she couldn’t possibly object to this.”
Jing Xichi chuckled, “Weren’t you going to make the decision? Why ask then?”
“I was just being respectful, mentioned it in passing.”
Jing Xichi also informed his mother. Upon hearing this, Director Lin offered rare praise, “You little rascal have grown considerate, knowing how to help ease others’ worries. Tomorrow Huan’er’s mom has an emergency surgery scheduled, and I have to attend a meeting out of town. We don’t know when we’ll be back. We were both worried about this. Are those things easy to buy? Difficult to install?”
“Easy to buy,” Jing Xichi asked, “You’ll both be home today? We’ll need you and Auntie Lin there to place them up high.”
“Yes, barring any special circumstances.”
He smiled—he’d heard that phrase since childhood.
“Easy to buy” was spoken too soon; none of the local online stores could deliver same-day. It was already 5:30 PM.
Fortunately, Auntie Chen left work on time for once, heading straight to the mall from the hospital. Unfortunately, their chosen model was sold out. After voice calls and video chats, they finally bought another slightly more expensive model.
Auntie Chen made a secret agreement with him, “If your Uncle Song asks, quote him double the price—does he think he can get away without paying for our trouble?”
“Ah,” Jing Xichi feigned regret, “I was thinking triple, including my mom’s share, calculated per person.”
“Count your mom’s share as mine.” Auntie Chen laughed, “When you two aren’t home, she often comes to my place for meals, eating one portion and taking another.”
“I knew she gained weight, though she won’t admit it.”
“You can rest completely assured, your mom is living well.”
Compared to his mother’s colleagues and neighborhood aunties, Huan’er’s mom was more like a close friend. She was casual and open-minded yet attentive and considerate. Jokes came naturally to her, and her comfort was gentle as spring rain. Jing Xichi enjoyed talking with her, sometimes feeling he could tell her anything, including those feelings for Huan’er he couldn’t properly place.
He hadn’t spoken of them, feeling it was too early—what right did a young boy have to speak of eternal love?
Then came guiding their installation. With the video on, Jing’s mom relays instructions, Chen’s mom operates, and Song’s mom offers suggestions. The mothers weren’t very tech-savvy, the three chatting and laughing, finishing one phone setup before moving to another, taking until nighttime.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to think about other things—Jing Xichi simply hadn’t had the chance yet.
During these few hours, Chen Huan’er had gotten a boyfriend.
How long they’d known each other, the circumstances of their meeting, what happened in between, why Huan’er chose him, and what she liked about him—Jing Xichi knew nothing about any of the background to this romance. He and Chen Huan’er, at the same school with dorms just three kilometers apart, had unknowingly let their lives diverge.
How absurd.
Jing Xichi found it utterly absurd.
The next afternoon after class, Huan’er came directly to the Computer Science teaching building. Jing Xichi was reviewing a database optimization case with Qiu Yang at the time, each at their computer, having agreed whoever solved it last would be treated. After taking the call, he flew downstairs, completely forgetting the algorithm formulas that had been swirling in his mind just seconds before.
Huan’er came alone, wearing a floral knee-length dress with a fluffy white cardigan, her long hair pinned up, and light makeup on her face. She smiled at him first, then asked, “Are you busy?”
“It’s fine.” Jing Xichi looked at her, feeling both unfamiliar and unable to look away.
Chen Huan’er was no longer that silly girl who would run out with her face half-washed to catch up with them for school. She stood before him, graceful and elegant, delicately beautiful, becoming a sight that made passing male students take second looks. For the first time, Jing Xichi deeply realized she was changing.
“Want to eat together?” Huan’er tilted her head, “I want to introduce someone to you.”
For the first time, he found himself feeling jealous.
Jing Xichi admitted he once had feelings for Qi Qi, wanting her attention, wanting to talk more with her, wanting to make her happy, but those were just feelings. He wouldn’t feel angry seeing her with other boys; he hadn’t even thought about what their future might be like.
Huan’er said, “Qiu Li’s been asking me to treat, and coincidentally Luer is also in this area today. If you’re free, we can all go together—save the new friend from having to meet you all one by one.”
She described that person as, a new friend.
“I heard from Huang Lu,” Jing Xichi tried his best to act like an “old friend,” “Last night, right?”
“Oh my.” Huan’er nodded shyly but sweetly.
His heart felt sour and bitter, but what could he do?
Say he’s not suitable for you? Say Chen Huan’er, look at me instead. Say, shall we give it a try?
He had no right to judge that new friend, no position to push her into chaos and shatter her newly blooming romantic fantasies.
At this moment, all Jing Xichi could do was push away that jealousy, and then… he wasn’t sure what then.
“Are you coming?” Huan’er rose on her tiptoes and then settled back down, smiling at him.
Qiu Yang’s call saved him—even without speakerphone, the excited voice could be heard—Jing Xichi, you’re treating! Let me tell you, it’s the Cartesian product trap, that ON condition…
“I’m treating,” Jing Xichi said into the receiver, “Coming up now.”
“Then you go ahead with your work,” Huan’er blinked at the sound, her tone slightly regretful, “Another time then.”
Jing Xichi put away his phone, feeling he should say something more. So he repeated those questions whose answers he already knew, “A senior?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“From the Medical School?”
“Yeah.” Huan’er laughed vivaciously, “You know, I was just telling him today, don’t do your internship back home, especially at Third Hospital—that would be like walking into a dead end.”
She was already thinking about the future.