Gao Jianhong: “…”
The mood lifted. Zhu Yun and Gao Jianhong took turns throwing out suggestions, each name more outlandish than the last, while Li Xun watched with amusement and offered the occasional dry commentary. Finally Gao Jianhong turned to Li Xun: “Do you have anything in mind?”
Zhu Yun knew that once Li Xun spoke, it would probably be settled. She leaned in eagerly from the side to egg him on.
“Something stylish! Something with flair!”
Li Xun glanced at her. “What counts as flair?”
Gao Jianhong suggested: “What about something in English? We’re aiming long-term, after all, right—” As he said this, he shot a look at Zhu Yun, who caught his meaning immediately and nodded along: “Yes! Exactly!”
Li Xun looked at the two of them with the expression of a man observing a pair of harmless lunatics. Gao Jianhong kept pressing him, and at last Li Xun flicked a glance at Zhu Yun, a wicked smile crossing his face. “English, hm… What about L&P?”
“L&P?” Gao Jianhong blinked. “What does that stand for?”
Li Xun’s expression was deliberately ambiguous. Under Gao Jianhong’s repeated prompting, he raised an eyebrow and said: “Didn’t you want something auspicious?”
“That’s right.”
Li Xun spread his hands. “Lucky and Powerful — translate it freely and you get something like ‘Fortune and Strength.’ How does that sound?”
Gao Jianhong burst out laughing. “That’s too on the nose!”
Li Xun delivered the line with complete composure: “The greatest music is beyond sound; the greatest way is beyond form. The lighter and more unassuming the thing you carry, the greater your power when you finally leap the dragon gate.”
Gao Jianhong slapped the table. “Sold!”
On the way back, Gao Jianhong walked ahead. Zhu Yun quietly pulled Li Xun back.
“Hey.”
“Mm?”
“You really can spin a story, can’t you.”
“What do you mean?”
Li Xun gave her a puzzled look, as if he genuinely didn’t understand what she was getting at. Zhu Yun nudged him in the side with her elbow.
“What does L&P actually stand for?”
“I just told you.”
“Nonsense.” Zhu Yun narrowed her eyes at him and said quietly, “It’s — ” She had barely started when Li Xun broke into a look of sudden, exaggerated realization. “Oh, so that’s where your mind went.”
Zhu Yun: “…”
Li Xun delivered the critique without mercy: “I have to say, Princess, there is a limit to how self-important one ought to be.”
With that, he tucked both hands into his pockets, cigarette dangling from his lips, and strolled ahead with insufferable ease.
Zhu Yun’s face burned from the teasing. The wine made her reckless. She let out a yell, charged at him from behind with a running start, and leapt onto his back. Li Xun had half-expected it — he staggered slightly from the impact, then simply carried her and kept walking.
Zhu Yun clung to his back, finding the air at this height oddly refreshing. She took a few deep, theatrical breaths. Li Xun gave a short, scornful laugh: “You’re like a dog.”
Zhu Yun, deeply cooperative, opened her mouth and sank her teeth into his shoulder with gusto.
“What the—!”
Something genuinely unexpected had occurred. Li Xun swore from the pain and immediately tried to get hold of her. Zhu Yun dropped off his back like a monkey, wound up tight, and bolted. Li Xun wasn’t about to let her get away — he caught up in a few long strides. Zhu Yun spun around and started swinging wildly, a flurry of chaotic punches. Li Xun caught her wrist in one large hand, and with the other he dug his fingers into her waist.
Li Xun had come to know every weak point on her body with almost surgical precision. One move was all it took. Zhu Yun crumbled instantly, begging for mercy through her distress.
Li Xun held her in place. “Are you going to try that again?”
Zhu Yun, seething but calculating, waited for his guard to drop — then stomped down hard on his foot. It was the height of summer; Li Xun had come out in flip-flops. The pain was so sharp he nearly leapt off the ground.
He roared: “Zhu Yun!”
First strike landed, she turned and ran for her life.
Li Xun’s foot throbbed; he couldn’t chase as fast. He flung his cigarette to the ground in a fury.
---
The evening breeze stirred. The scent of osmanthus drifted through the air.
On such a night, with such beauty around them, it was easy to wander freely and without a care.
The young are proud and high-spirited — they look ahead, and cannot be troubled to bow their heads toward the shabby, inconstant corners of the world.
For a long time afterward, Zhu Yun would find herself wondering: if they had only stepped back a little further, endured just a little more, smoothed their rough edges just a little flatter — would everything have turned out differently?
But there were no ifs.
The noise of the world rose, and the great wind swept through it. Those years of youth — that was exactly how they had lived them: boldly, recklessly, without apology.