The sun sank in the west, its rounded silhouette slowly sliding down, visibly approaching the horizon.
The sky was like silk, with gentle waves of rosy clouds softly embedded in the gradient of pink.
Ruan Xi’s cheeks bore another kind of rose hue.
Her eyes held a drowsy softness, slightly intoxicated; even her voice was tender and lazy.
Her flushed fingertips pressed on guitar strings as she strummed and hummed a French song.
Cheng Daichuan’s understanding of Ruan Xi’s French proficiency still lingered back to their high school neighbor days—
Her family often played French songs, and occasionally the TV would stream French original movies.
Ruan Xi had been somewhat curious about this.
Once, when Madam Shang was humming a French tune while entering the kitchen, Ruan Xi tugged on Cheng Daichuan’s school uniform sleeve and quietly asked, “Is Aunt Shang mixed race?”
Cheng Daichuan, while marking a “C” on his math multiple-choice paper, replied, “No, she just studied abroad for a while.”
The next day after learning that Madam Shang had studied abroad, Shi Chao came over to Cheng Daichuan’s house again to hang out.
When they entered and were about to change shoes, Ruan Xi spontaneously said to Madam Shang a freshly learned French greeting: “Bonjour.”
Madam Shang held a bouquet of yellow lilies, looked up in surprise, delighted, and immediately responded with a long sentence in French.
Ruan Xi stood in the entryway, bewildered, repeating, “Bonjour……”
Cheng Daichuan blocked Aisila at the door, took out Ruan Xi’s special slippers from the shoe cabinet, and said, “She’s complimenting you.”
Ruan Xi acted as if she had discovered a new continent. “Cheng Daichuan, you can understand French too?”
Shi Chao was different— he wasn’t interested in English, French, or Italian.
Kicking off his sneakers, he shouted, “Auntie, want to go have spicy hot pot for lunch together?”
After saying this, he glanced at the three of them, “…Why are you all staring at me? What did you just say?”
That day, Madam Shang was in a good mood, humming as she tied a diamond-patterned silk scarf around her neck.
She said she would treat them and take them to a French restaurant that served appetizers, main courses, and desserts in sequence.
At the French restaurant, Ruan Xi learned her second French phrase from Madam Shang.
Encouraged by Madam Shang’s gaze, she shyly said “Merci” to the French server who came to deliver dessert, then turned around uncertainly, “Aunt Shang, is my pronunciation standard?”
But now, Ruan Xi sat confidently on the small stage of a bar, fluently singing a French song.
Cheng Daichuan didn’t know when Ruan Xi had started communicating with Zhang Xu, nor when she had learned French and started playing guitar.
This “unawareness” stirred a certain restless, anxious feeling in Cheng Daichuan.
It was frustrating, unpleasant.
He suddenly remembered Madam Shang before her divorce, covering her face as she sobbed, “Mom really didn’t know anything……”
Cheng Daichuan licked his lips, staring at Ruan Xi’s slightly glazed, drunken eyes.
Her eyes were wet, looking at him with a kind of charm Cheng Daichuan had never seen before.
She’s been in college for years now, matured to this extent?
She was chatting with Shi Chao in their WeChat group, saying that her university classmates were out singing at KTV— is this really the alluring image she meant?
One of the customers whistled appreciatively.
Ruan Xi smiled faintly and continued to sing: “offrez-moi la Tour Eiffel, j’en ferais quoi……”
Madam Shang had learned some French when Cheng Daichuan was young and dragged him along for practice, so Cheng Daichuan understood the general meaning of the lyrics — “Even if you offer me the Eiffel Tower, what could I do with it?”
Cheng Daichuan looked into Ruan Xi’s eyes, tangled with complicated emotions, watching the moist tears in her gaze.
Ruan Xi, what do you want?
He was too familiar with those eyes.
Others— Madam Shang, Shi Chao, even Ruan Xi’s parents— probably hadn’t seen her cry as many times as Cheng Daichuan had.
The day Ruan Xi transferred schools, her family’s red sedan was packed to the brim with daily necessities and luggage as they moved.
They stood downstairs to see her off. Ruan Xi cried so hard she could barely breathe.
She wiped her nose, placed a bouquet of fresh flowers inside the car, then turned back, clutching a crumpled tissue to collapse into Cheng Daichuan’s arms, soaking his clothes with her tears.
Cheng Daichuan held her wrist, then after a long while patted her back and said he’d come find her after the college entrance exams.
Ruan Xi suddenly looked up, her tear-filled eyes sparkling with hope. Sniffling, she said, “Cheng Daichuan, you have to keep your word. People who lie don’t get seasoning packets with their instant noodles!”
On a certain late night after Ruan Xi had left, Cheng Daichuan unexpectedly received a call from her.
Her voice choked with emotion: “Cheng Daichuan, I had a dream.”
Cheng Daichuan had just finished his homework and gone to bed. Phone pressed to his ear, he clearly heard Ruan Xi’s sobbing in the quiet night, instantly wide awake.
His mind raced— hopefully it wasn’t Nuan Grandma who was in trouble…
In the two days after the mock exams, Cheng Daichuan hadn’t seen her like this.
He teased her, “Why are you crying?”
Ruan Xi’s crying shifted tone, snapping, “I’m not crying, you better stop that— psht!”
Cheng Daichuan continued to cheer her up, “Did I meet Meng Po? Was I craving her soup?”
Ruan Xi instantly broke into a smile through her tears, “How do you still remember that…”
Ruan Xi’s parents were staying at a hotel near the hospital, convenient for taking care of Nuan Grandma who was hospitalized.
At home, Ruan Xi was alone.
She said she dreamed of Grandpa, “Grandpa told me not to be afraid, and said Grandma can eat, drink, and work, so she’ll definitely live a long life.”
Cheng Daichuan sat in the dark holding his phone, seeing Aisila’s shiny eyes: “Isn’t that a good dream? Why are you crying then?”
Ruan Xi was silent for a moment before crying again.
She said, “But so many people online say dreams mean the opposite. What if Grandma can’t live a long life? What am I supposed to do, Cheng Daichuan…”
Sometimes, when Ruan Xi softly said “What should I do, Cheng Daichuan?” or when she looked at him helplessly with tearful eyes, Cheng Daichuan’s heart would skip a beat, almost mistaking her dependence on him for love.
But that was an illusion.
It was he himself, selfishly, who had misunderstood her true intentions.
During the summer after the college entrance exams, Ruan Xi’s family organized a trip with Cheng Daichuan’s family.
A group of them stayed in a small courtyard in an ancient town in Jiangnan Watertown.
Cheng Daichuan got up early for a morning run. When he returned, Ruan Xi and Shi Chao had just gotten up.
The two held toothbrushes and their phones, chatting about high school gossip by the outdoor washbasin.
Shi Chao’s toothpaste clung stubbornly to his brush: “…Who would have thought it would come to this? Tsk tsk tsk, Xi Zi, what are you jabbering about? I can’t catch a word.”
Cheng Daichuan saw Ruan Xi spitting out the foamy toothpaste and heard her rapid speech: “I said, who would like their own best friend? That’s just sick!”
Sick?
Cheng Daichuan lowered his head and smiled wryly.
The waiter brought their drinks: a few bottles of whiskey and several cans of Budweiser placed on the table.
There was also a pale pink cocktail.
Cheng Daichuan no longer made eye contact with Ruan Xi. Instead, he turned and thanked the waiter.
The song wasn’t overly sentimental…
At the moment Ruan Xi looked down at her guitar, a single tear slipped from her left eye.
The tear fell onto the coffee-colored plaid fabric of her dress and soon disappeared.
A faint smile curled at the corner of her lips, a wry smile, as she shook her head and sang, “Papalapapapala…”
When Ruan Xi finished, the polite applause from the guests followed, and she said thank you.
She returned the guitar to the waiter and walked over to the table.
Cheng Daichuan also clapped, pushing the pale pink cocktail toward Ruan Xi: “Drink this.”
Ruan Xi blinked: “Why?”
“A smooth cocktail, for you.”
“I want to…”
Before she finished, Cheng Daichuan squinted and leaned closer, silencing her.
The lighting in the bar was dim and ambiguous.
The half-set sun on the horizon and the scattered ambient lights weren’t enough to dispel the darkness— or the fluttering in their hearts.
Ruan Xi struggled to breathe, thinking:
I was already tipsy. If Cheng Daichuan keeps this up, I won’t be able to stop myself from kissing him.
But Cheng Daichuan asked, “Have you cried?”
“No! Why would I cry when everything’s fine?”
“Your eyelashes are wet.”
“Maybe my singing was too beautiful and moved me.”
Ruan Xi picked up a bottle of whiskey, gulping down nearly half, “Come on, drink with me!”
Cheng Daichuan hesitated for two seconds, picked up a beer, clinked his bottle against hers, “Clink.”
He said nothing and drank half the bottle too.
When Ruan Xi finished her second beer and reached for another, Cheng Daichuan grasped her wrist.
Ruan Xi murmured, “Hmm?”
“That’s enough.”
“I still want to drink.”
“Drink this.”
Ruan Xi held the tall narrow cocktail glass, sipping the smooth drink little by little.
Her eyes were mournful as she stared fixedly at Cheng Daichuan.
Cheng Daichuan felt his eyelids twitch at her gaze, instinctively knowing this night was going to be tough.
And he was right.
On the way back to the room, Ruan Xi couldn’t even walk a straight line.
Before they reached the elevator, she was already hanging limply like cooked noodles on Cheng Daichuan’s arm.
Cheng Daichuan practically carried Ruan Xi by the waist to the room door.
The person in his arms was still restless, reaching out and fumbling for something in his pants pocket.
Cheng Daichuan gave in and swatted away the mischievous hand.
Ruan Xi pouted in mock grievance, “Cheng Daichuan, I’m helping you find the room card…”
“…No need.”
Cheng Daichuan swiped the card to open the door, leaned against the bathroom door, watching Ruan Xi sway as she brushed her teeth.
She said something with a mouth full of toothpaste foam, but he didn’t catch it— or care to.
Because he truly couldn’t understand why, for someone drunk enough to barely stand, the first thing she did upon entering the room was change into such a cute little nightgown.
The nightgown’s strap hung crookedly on her shoulder.
Drunk, Ruan Xi’s movements were slow and languid like a sloth in a cartoon. Even squeezing out facial cleanser took a long time, but she stubbornly refused any help.
Cheng Daichuan waited by the bathroom door, very helpless.
He watched as Ruan Xi took off her hairband, shook her cute short hair, finally finishing the long process of washing up.
She steadied herself against the wall as she passed by him.
He reached out and adjusted the nearly slipping strap on her shoulder: “Go to sleep.”
Ruan Xi slowly walked to her single bed, sat down, staring silently at the seagull plush on the cabinet.
Cheng Daichuan took a shower.
When he came out, the person on the bed was still lying quietly.
He had only just lain down when Ruan Xi climbed onto his bed.
He immediately sat up, “…Ruan Xi, get down.”
Ruan Xi climbed beside him, obediently sitting, and whispered mysteriously into his ear, “I’m here to tell you a secret.”
Cheng Daichuan’s headache began again.
When the warm breath from her lips brushed his ear, he tilted his head to dodge, rubbing his forehead tiredly: “I don’t need to know how to pick over-the-knee socks.”
Ruan Xi was delighted, exclaiming, “That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about!”
“…Not now. Go to sleep.”
“But I have an even bigger secret I haven’t told you yet.”
“Are you going to sleep or not?”
“Are you going to listen or not?”
Cheng Daichuan laughed bitterly, resigned, “Okay, I’ll listen. After you finish, you go to sleep.”
Ruan Xi’s bigger secret didn’t come out for a long time, but she kept inching closer.
Her hot breath lingered by Cheng Daichuan’s ear, effortlessly igniting the suppressed fire in him.
Cheng Daichuan gritted his teeth, “Ruan Xi.”
The one called turned her eyes closed, lips gently pressing against Cheng Daichuan’s ear.