On the first day of the Lunar New Year, the two families arranged to go to the temple together to offer incense.
Both families’ grandparents were still living. The group opened up three cars in total.
Father Chen, Chen Suiliang, and Father Meng, Meng Chengyong, each drove one, carrying their own elders.
The two mothers wanted to squeeze into one car with the young people, with Meng Fuyuan driving.
“Qingwu, what day are you going back to work?” Aunt Qi, Qilin, asked.
“I have to go on the fourth, Auntie.”
“So early?”
“Mm. After New Year’s, the studio needs to prepare to fire a batch of ceramics. We’re going early to prepare.”
“Didn’t you say you were planning to resign?”
“Some work still needs to be finished first.” Chen Qingwu smiled.
Qilin laughed: “Qingwu has truly had a sense of responsibility since childhood.”
Sitting in the front passenger seat, Mother Chen, Liao Shuman, turned around to ask Meng Qiran: “Qiran, when is your performance?”
Meng Qiran sat by the left window, quite lazily. When answering the question, he sat up a bit more properly and smiled: “Early March. Are you coming to watch the performance? I’ll save you a ticket.”
“What bad timing—I already promised Qingwu’s grandmother I’d take her to travel to Thailand.”
Qilin became interested: “Just the two of you?”
“Yes. Her grandmother said at this age she’s never been abroad. I want to take her to tour foreign countries while her health is still good.”
“Can I bring Qiran’s grandmother to join you?”
Liao Shuman couldn’t ask for more: “Of course. Going together will be lively too.”
For a time, the two mothers excitedly chatted about arrangements for the Thailand trip.
Meng Qiran leaned sideways closer to Chen Qingwu, asking: “Didn’t you say before your studio was holding an exhibition? When is it?”
“Also opening in early March.”
“Then will you come to my performance?”
“Of course I have to come.” Chen Qingwu smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t be absent.”
Meng Qiran chuckled lightly.
Chen Qingwu savored his laugh, reacting after a moment: “…Did you write a song for me again?”
“Guess.”
Chen Qingwu smiled.
Driving in front, Meng Fuyuan glanced faintly at the car’s rearview mirror.
In the mirror was a beautiful face. When she smiled, it was like brushwork and clouds falling on rice paper—so spirited and elegant.
He glanced once then withdrew his gaze.
The temple was crowded with people. After considerable effort, they finally offered incense at the Great Buddha Hall.
Father Meng, Meng Chengyong, was friendly with an abbot at the temple. Every year at New Year’s, he would routinely go find the abbot to offer eternal lanterns.
The abbot led everyone to request lanterns. When Grandpa Meng stepped over the threshold at the front of the hall, his steps were unsteady and he braced himself on a table by the door.
Fortune sticks sat on the table. Just as Grandpa Meng’s down jacket sleeve was about to knock it over, Meng Fuyuan walking behind had sharp eyes and quick hands, reaching out to steady it.
The container didn’t fall, but one stick scattered out.
Meng Fuyuan was about to put that stick back in the container when the abbot stopped him: “You cannot.”
Meng Fuyuan stopped his movement.
The abbot smiled: “All sticks that are drawn must be interpreted.”
Meng Fuyuan nodded and handed the bamboo stick to the abbot.
The abbot looked at it, walked into the hall, and retrieved the fortune text from a cabinet at the side.
Meng Fuyuan took it and looked.
**Twelfth Fortune · Yihai**
The fortune text read: *Brows unfurrowed for so many years, today meeting opportunity brings different heaven; peach and plum in deep spring bloom brilliantly again, lotus in autumn景 sceneæ£ bright and fresh.*
Below attached the fortune text annotation:
*The red phoenix star stirs. Opportunity arrives ingeniously. Talented scholar and beautiful woman. Advised to seize the moment. Wait for the right time to act, and you will certainly gain something.*
Meng Fuyuan stared at the four characters “red phoenix star stirs” and furrowed his brow.
Looking up, ahead Meng Qiran was lowering his head talking to Chen Qingwu. Not knowing what he said, it immediately made Chen Qingwu show a smile.
He glanced again at the fortune text in his hand, only feeling it somewhat absurd. But out of politeness he didn’t say it aloud, only folded it and stuffed it into his coat pocket.
Inside the hall at the lantern offering place, everyone was writing prayer plaques.
Chen Qingwu stood next to Grandma at the very edge of the table.
Not intentionally, but only the space to Chen Qingwu’s right was available. After hesitating a moment, Meng Fuyuan still walked over.
Taking a prayer plaque and preparing to write, Chen Qingwu had already finished writing.
She picked it up and blew on it, as if wanting the ink to dry faster.
Meng Fuyuan raised his eyes and immediately saw the calligraphy on the plaque—very beautiful small regular script: *May Qiran’s performance and competition go smoothly.*
A sincere child—from childhood to now, all her prayers had been given entirely to Meng Qiran.
Meng Fuyuan paused, then threw down the brush and wooden plaque, not planning to write anymore—at this moment his own jealous thoughts were proliferating, afraid of offending Buddha.
After offering the lanterns, everyone left the great hall and walked outside.
Meng Fuyuan lagged a few steps behind, folded that absolutely-won’t-come-true fortune paper into a long strip, and tied it on a pomegranate tree branch.
/
On the morning of the fourth day, Meng Fuyuan went to the Lu family to pay respects to SEMedical’s General Manager Lu and his grandfather, Old Master Lu.
Before lunch, he returned home.
Entering the door, Meng Qiran was yawning as he came downstairs.
Meng Fuyuan took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack, asking Meng Qiran: “Did you send Qingwu to the airport?”
Meng Qiran said: “No. Uncle Chen said he wanted to send her himself.”
“You just woke up now after sleeping until now?”
“Mm.”
Meng Fuyuan looked at him. That gaze was very still, and seemed to carry a bit of coldness.
Meng Qiran was somewhat confused: “…What’s wrong?”
Meng Fuyuan didn’t say a word, rolled up his sleeves, and went to the washroom to wash his hands.
/
Early March.
Meng Qiran’s band performed in East City. Chen Qingwu went to support him as agreed.
The first moment after work ended, she rushed to the airport. After two hours of turbulence, when the plane landed and was taxiing, she opened her phone to see a message from Meng Qiran:
*Sorry Wuwu, got drunk and really can’t help it, I had my brother go pick you up.*
Chen Qingwu thought of what happened during New Year’s and was ten thousand percent unwilling to continue adding trouble for Meng Fuyuan.
However, the message was sent an hour ago. At that time she was still in mid-air with absolutely no way to refuse.
Moreover, Meng Fuyuan had already arrived—there was his message on WeChat, sent just fifteen minutes ago.
The message was brief and to the point: *Domestic arrivals, Exit B2.*
Chen Qingwu had no time to overthink. She quickly first replied to Meng Fuyuan: *Already landed, waiting for luggage.*
Unexpectedly the luggage came out slowly—half an hour of waiting.
Lugging her suitcase, she hurried toward the arrivals exit.
From far away she caught sight of Meng Fuyuan. He wore a black shirt and trousers with a thin dark coffee-colored trench coat over them—tall and upright, really too eye-catching.
It was already past 1 AM. Making someone wait so long, Chen Qingwu felt very apologetic and quickly jogged over.
Arriving in front of him, she first apologized: “Sorry, waiting for luggage took a long time…”
“It’s fine. Let’s go.” Meng Fuyuan directly reached out to take the wheeled suitcase from her hand.
His momentum was so strong that Chen Qingwu involuntarily released her grip.
The suitcase’s universal wheels rumbled over the stone floor. Meng Fuyuan’s steps were rapid, the hem of his trench coat stirring up a breeze. Chen Qingwu followed so quickly she was almost jogging the whole way.
Reaching the building entrance, Meng Fuyuan suddenly stopped.
Chen Qingwu reacted and also stopped.
Just confused about what was happening, she saw Meng Fuyuan release the handle, raise his hand to take off the trench coat, turn around and lightly toss it into her arms.
She reflexively caught it, a sharp fragrance brushing her face.
Probably he’d gotten hot from walking—meaning for her to help hold the coat.
Chen Qingwu smoothed out the trench coat and held it in her arms.
Meng Fuyuan looked at her, wanting to speak but hesitating.
Chen Qingwu was somewhat confused: “What’s wrong?”
But Meng Fuyuan didn’t say anything, still pushing the suitcase and continuing to walk outside.
The parking lot was outdoors, requiring crossing two internal roads for taxis and ride-hailing cars.
The moment she stepped out the door, cold wind hit her face.
Chen Qingwu had left in a hurry and hadn’t paid attention to East City’s landing temperature, not knowing today was a late spring cold snap, right when the weather changed.
She only wore a thin black knit dress and shivered from the wind. Only then did she realize what Meng Fuyuan meant by giving her the trench coat.
She had a black tote bag on her shoulder, making it inconvenient to put on the coat. Chen Qingwu slowed her pace and took off the bag.
Meng Fuyuan glanced over, his steps pausing slightly as he reached out toward her.
“It’s okay, I can hold it myself…”
Meng Fuyuan didn’t withdraw his hand, seeming somewhat insistent.
Chen Qingwu hesitated for a second, then still handed over the bag.
After putting on the trench coat, Chen Qingwu thanked Meng Fuyuan.
Meng Fuyuan only made an “mm” sound, turned and walked forward.
The bag was still being carried in his hand.
Chen Qingwu lightly said “ah,” seeing his footsteps didn’t stop, could only follow first.
The scene of Meng Fuyuan pushing the suitcase with one hand and carrying the bag in the other suddenly reminded Chen Qingwu of a past incident.
At that time she should have been around eight years old. The two families’ parents had a spur-of-the-moment dinner gathering and notified Meng Fuyuan, who had a phone, to go to the elementary school section to pick up his younger siblings.
Chen Qingwu and Meng Qiran were the same age, birthdays only a week apart, same school but different classes.
That day after finishing the last class, she walked out of the classroom and saw Meng Fuyuan and Meng Qiran standing together in the hallway waiting for her.
She was just about to put on her backpack when Meng Fuyuan took a step closer, extended his arm, and said: “Give it to me.”
Meng Fuyuan was six years older than them, wearing the middle school section’s black and white school uniform jacket with a black backpack on his shoulder.
The fourteen-year-old boy at that time was probably already over 175 centimeters tall. His appearance hadn’t yet shed the boyish innocence, but was already handsome enough, his temperament carrying a bit of coolness—very eye-catching.
Elementary students loved to gather and watch excitement. For a moment several people crowded at the door to observe.
Chen Qingwu hesitated and didn’t immediately hand it over. Meng Fuyuan, being eagerly watched by a group of elementary students, seemed somewhat impatient and said again: “I’ll hold it for you.”
Chen Qingwu had no choice but to give him her backpack.
Eight-year-old her was still at the age of loving pink and tender colors. That backpack was a pink Hello Kitty. Being carried in Meng Fuyuan’s hand like this by such a cool guy was simply comical.
Meng Qiran protested: “Bro, why do you only help Wuwu carry her backpack!”
Meng Fuyuan shot him a sharp look. Meng Qiran immediately didn’t dare speak.
Arriving at the parking area, the driver got out of the car and took the suitcase to store it in the back.
Meng Fuyuan opened the back door for Chen Qingwu, then went around to the other side and got in the car.
The two sat together in the back. After the car started, Chen Qingwu realized she was still wearing Meng Fuyuan’s coat, so she took it off and returned it to him, thanking him again.
Meng Fuyuan took the coat and casually placed it to the side. From who knows where, he pulled out a laptop and just like that crossed his legs and set it on his knees.
The screen’s light source was a cold white, reflecting on his lenses, making his already serious expression add several degrees of unfathomable distance.
Chen Qingwu consciously didn’t make a sound.
If not absolutely necessary, she definitely wouldn’t want to trouble Meng Fuyuan, and naturally even more wouldn’t actively disturb his proper business.
At this time the driver in front spoke up: “Miss Chen, which hotel are you staying at?”
“Wait a moment, let me ask.”
Chen Qingwu took out her phone and sent Meng Qiran a WeChat message. Getting no reply, she called. It rang for a long time with no one answering.
Meng Fuyuan turned his head to glance at her. “Qiran didn’t book a hotel for you?”
“Don’t know. He’s not answering the phone—probably drunk and asleep.”
Not wanting to delay the driver’s work, Chen Qingwu said: “Please drive forward for a bit first. I’ll check what hotels have rooms…”
Meng Fuyuan cut off her words, directly instructing the driver to go to a certain five-star hotel, his tone carrying some displeasure.
Chen Qingwu thought to herself that she’d added trouble for people again, so she didn’t refuse, listening to Meng Fuyuan’s full arrangements.
She secretly decided that tomorrow when she met with Meng Qiran, she’d definitely scold him: not knowing what he was thinking, clearly knowing Meng Fuyuan lately was so busy day and night were reversed, giving him the task of receiving her.
The car fell into silence, only occasionally hearing Meng Fuyuan tapping the keyboard.
Chen Qingwu dimmed her phone screen brightness and lowered her head to reply to WeChat messages—her parents had slept first, telling her to report she was safe after arriving.
After replying, she saw a red notification dot on her Moments. Clicking in to look, it was just an annoying mutual like notification.
Casually scrolling through Moments a few times, she suddenly felt as if someone was watching her.
She looked up toward Meng Fuyuan’s direction. His fingers rested on the laptop keyboard, eyes directly facing the screen, completely absorbed.
She smiled silently at her inexplicable illusion.
Somewhat tired, her brain refusing to input any more text information, Chen Qingwu locked her phone screen, held it in her hand, leaned her body back, and closed her eyes to rest.
Meng Fuyuan’s fingers paused. From the corner of his eye catching that Chen Qingwu’s eyes were tightly closed, only then did he raise his eyes slightly and look toward her.
Probably because spring clothing was thin, this outfit made her look even more slender than during New Year’s. Streetlight from outside penetrated in, dyeing a bit of dim yellow warmth on her face, then suddenly moved away, falling back into indigo shadows.
She always had a glass-like fragile quality.
Meng Fuyuan hadn’t looked away for quite a while.
The phone in Chen Qingwu’s hand suddenly vibrated.
Before she opened her eyes, Meng Fuyuan imperceptibly withdrew his gaze.
It was a spam text. Chen Qingwu opened it and casually deleted it. However, her drowsiness seemed to be cleared away along with it.
She opened Moments again, scrolled aimlessly for a while, considered whether to take out earphones to listen to music, but felt it wasn’t polite enough.
Suddenly she heard a subtle sound beside her.
She turned her head to look. Meng Fuyuan had taken off his glasses, gently placed them on the laptop keyboard, closed his eyes and lightly rubbed his brow, instructing the driver: “Turn on the radio.”
Music immediately flowed from the speakers.
Meng Fuyuan picked up his glasses again and put them on, in a purely businesslike tone, not at all warm: “Reviewing some materials. The road is still long—sleep for a bit.”
Chen Qingwu said “okay.”
She didn’t speak again, leaning back against the seat listening to music.
Very miraculously, the atmosphere in this car unexpectedly made her feel relaxed. Probably because facing Meng Fuyuan, she didn’t need to expend effort forcing a smile at all.
The car arrived at the hotel.
Meng Fuyuan closed the laptop and opened the door on his side.
Chen Qingwu picked up her bag and got out. Meng Fuyuan pulled the suitcase from the trunk.
At the hotel front desk, Meng Fuyuan swiped his card to book a room. Chen Qingwu took her ID to check in.
A service attendant came over, asking if they needed luggage sent to the room.
Chen Qingwu said “no need,” took the room card and confirmed the room number once, then looked at Meng Fuyuan and smiled: “Brother Yuan, today really caused you so much trouble.”
Meng Fuyuan’s already waveless expression seemed to darken two degrees more, his tone the same: “Going back home the day after tomorrow?”
East City was close to South City—high-speed rail was only two hours.
“Not going back. The day after tomorrow afternoon, flying directly to North City.”
“You came from North City?”
“Mm. Teacher Zhai’s work is exhibiting in North City. It will continue for several more days before ending.”
Meng Fuyuan nodded. “What time is your flight the day after tomorrow afternoon?”
“Four o’clock.”
“I’ll treat you and Qiran to lunch the day after tomorrow at noon.”
Chen Qingwu nodded.
Meng Fuyuan paused. “Rest early.”
Chen Qingwu nodded again.
Meng Fuyuan had already turned around. As if remembering something, his figure paused again: “When Qiran gets busy with his own things, he easily can’t attend to other matters. Take care of yourself these two days.”
Chen Qingwu nodded again and said okay.
She thought Meng Fuyuan must be too lazy to clean up after Qiran’s messes again, hence this reminder.
Only then did Meng Fuyuan turn and leave.
/
After Chen Qingwu got up, she first went to the restaurant for breakfast.
A video call popped up on WeChat—from Meng Qiran.
She took a napkin to wipe her fingers clean and tapped the screen to answer.
On screen the curtains weren’t drawn yet. Only a desk lamp was lit. Meng Qiran lay in bed, face pressed against the pillow.
Just woken up, still somewhat drowsy. His features were three-dimensional and deep. Usually that kind of handsomeness felt too dazzling. At this moment with a bit of lazy fatigue, it somewhat dissolved that oppressive feeling, showing a bit of youthfulness.
Chen Qingwu pulled the tissue box in front of her, propped up her phone vertically, and said: “Sobered up?”
“Wuwu, I was wrong.” Meng Qiran smiled apologetically. “Really couldn’t help it. You know those people too—I said I’d just show my face. After getting there, they directly detained me. Wouldn’t let me leave without drinking.”
Meng Qiran had many friends coming from all over to support his performance.
“It’s fine. It’s just that if you’d said earlier, I could have taken a taxi myself. Why bother Brother Yuan?”
“How can I be at ease entrusting you to others?” Meng Qiran chuckled. “Did my brother scold you?”
“Not at all. He even booked the hotel for me.”
“I booked a hotel for you. Sent the address to your phone—didn’t you receive it?”
“No. Are you sure you sent it to me?”
“Let me check…” The image froze slightly. After a moment Meng Qiran seemed to laugh at himself in exasperation. “I was drunk and sent it to File Transfer Assistant.”
Chen Qingwu had always known her account was pinned at the top in Meng Qiran’s contacts, right next to File Transfer Assistant.
On screen, Meng Qiran suddenly leaned close: “Not angry, right?”
“Of course I’m angry.”
“Really angry? Then I’ll make it up to you?”
Probably because of the hangover, his voice was a bit hoarse. This tone was most suitable for coaxing people, making that bit of secretly growing grievance in her heart immediately have nowhere to settle.
Chen Qingwu felt at this moment she absolutely had to smile. “Don’t want your compensation.”
The image shook. After a moment it froze on the ceiling. Only rustling sounds could be heard—seemed like Meng Qiran was getting dressed.
His voice came at the same time: “Rehearsal today. Wuwu, do you want to come watch?”
“Do you need me to come?”
“I’m afraid if I get busy I won’t be able to attend to you in time.”
Chen Qingwu then said: “There’s a Matisse painting exhibition in East City. I’ll go see it.”
“Then after you finish, come directly to backstage to find me. I’ll send you the address in a bit.”
Meng Qiran finished dressing and picked up his phone again. “I’m going to shower. Wuwu, continue eating breakfast—should I find a friend to take you around?”
“No need. It’s not the first time coming. Won’t add trouble for others.”
After finishing breakfast, Chen Qingwu returned to her hotel room to change clothes.
After entering, she fell backward onto the bed, lying sprawled without moving at all.
It wasn’t the first time either.
She understood Meng Qiran better than anyone. Whether it was being drunk and not picking her up from the airport, or sending the wrong hotel address, or not insisting she come watch rehearsal… he absolutely wasn’t doing it on purpose.
However, it was often those unintentional behaviors that most exposed true thoughts.
Didn’t she know all this? Why was she still so aggrieved?
And most aggrieved was—wasn’t she unable to even show her grievance in front of Qiran?
She knew Qiran most disliked seeing her unhappy—he’d already given all his favoritism to her.
It was just that the total amount of his favoritism was only that much.
Whether she accepted it or not, whether she was satisfied or not—it was only that much.
Even if she was unhappy, dissatisfied, he couldn’t help it.
Her phone suddenly vibrated twice in succession.
Thinking it was Meng Qiran forgetting to tell her something, she hurriedly grabbed it to look.
It was actually two messages from Meng Fuyuan.
Meng Fuyuan’s WeChat avatar seemed to be a screenshot from some black and white film. The image was cropped—not very clear. It was a man’s hand holding chalk writing something on a round tabletop.
From her impression, Meng Fuyuan had used this avatar for several years and never changed it. She didn’t know what film it was.
**Meng Fuyuan:** *Sent a driver over. Whatever place you want to go, just tell him.*
The other message attached the driver’s surname and phone number.
Chen Qingwu was somewhat stunned. After a moment she replied to Meng Fuyuan with “Thank you.”
Probably Meng Fuyuan was busy—this message received no reply.
The driver was in the hotel parking lot. After answering the phone, he drove the car to the entrance.
Chen Qingwu opened the car door and got in the back seat, saying to the driver: “Please take me to the nearest shopping mall first.” The weather was cold—she planned to buy clothes first.
The driver glanced through the rearview mirror and said: “Mr. Meng asked me to tell Miss Chen that there’s a coat in the bag. If Miss Chen can use it, you can take it to wear.”
Only then did Chen Qingwu notice there was a white paper bag on the seat.
Opening it to look, inside was a trench coat. A brand she habitually bought.