◎Reading the menu from left to right◎

In the enclosed space of the elevator, Gu Qiao couldn’t help noticing the mint scent coming from herself. She’d probably used too much shampoo — every strand of hair seemed to have been marinated in mint water. Which made her think of the same scent on him.

The harder Gu Qiao tried not to look at Luo Peiyin, the more his image floated before her. She still remembered the precise curve of his shoulder blades.

The elevator had descended to the twentieth floor. Gu Qiao thought to herself: why on earth hasn’t someone else got in? The elevator slowly descended. He was looking at her quite openly, not in the least concerned about being caught. At first his gaze had been broad and general — she had always dressed in a bold, expansive way, not much given to fine details.

Luo Peiyin watched Gu Qiao’s reflection in the elevator mirror. This woman could stride up to a stage and declaim rousing speeches without flinching — and could equally shrug off her coat, roll up her sleeves, and haul sacks of goods.

A strand of hair slid across her face. Gu Qiao reached up and tucked it behind her ear; her fingernail caught her earring, producing a soft chime. Gu Qiao kept her eyes on her own reflection, yet felt as though every strand of hair on her body was being watched. Something nameless stirred and raced through her. She was right not to have put on the cashmere jumpers he had bought her. She was already warm enough.

A string of cold, emotionless numbers was the greatest enemy of hormones. Gu Qiao wanted to resume talking about those figures, but they hovered at the edge of her lips and she bit them back. She knew there was one question more effective at cooling her down than any string of numbers. It had been spinning in her mind ever since she’d heard it from Xu Ling. Being late had been her fault, yes — but always saying “next time,” and never letting him wait long enough for that next time to arrive — that had been her fault too. She was the one who had ended things. And yet hadn’t he moved on and found someone new? He hadn’t clung to one feeling and refused to let go. So there was nothing to regret.

He had a new girlfriend. She, too, would have a very good future.

“Cousin-brother — you work at LC?”

In the elevator mirror she sought out Luo Peiyin’s eyes. He dropped his gaze, lowered his lids halfway, and withdrew his attention from her — becoming like something without a bottom, impossible to gauge. Gu Qiao could not determine whether what had happened that day — Peter suddenly cancelling their meeting — had involved Luo Peiyin’s hand or not.

“Does that matter to you?”

Gu Qiao fixed her gaze on her own eyes in the mirror. Her pupils were very bright. “I was just curious — could I have one of your business cards?” She had no intention of leveraging connections. She simply wanted to know whether Luo Peiyin had had anything to do with Peter’s cancellation that day.

Gu Qiao noticed Luo Peiyin’s gaze suddenly draw close again, settling on her: “I’m afraid I haven’t got one on me.”

Gu Qiao smiled. “No matter.”

Out of the elevator, the warmth from Gu Qiao’s face hadn’t dispersed. It was only when she stepped outside the hotel and the winter cold rushed at her that the heat finally began to ebb. She didn’t usually like winter, but right now she was grateful for this touch of chill.

Not that she had long to enjoy it — she moved from one enclosed space straight into another.

Gu Qiao was considerably more composed than she had once been. In the old days, she would have leapt into the driver’s seat or the passenger seat of her yellow van; just the motion of climbing in would set her earrings swinging back and forth without stopping. Now she settled herself into the car, and only she knew how much the earrings were moving.

She thought of the past — how even though it had been her van, he always took over the driver’s seat. She spent a single second pushing that memory away and buckled her seatbelt.

She had barely settled into the car before she felt the warmth of the air circulating. She wasn’t particularly cold at this point, actually. There was a minty scent in her nose — she couldn’t tell if it was hers or his. She breathed it in, and breathed it back out again. Even without looking at Luo Peiyin, she was completely unable to ignore his presence.

Other things she could endure. This particular thing was difficult to bear.

The car and the elevator were both enclosed spaces, but at least in the car there were no mirrors. She very much wanted to crack the window and let in some fresh air.

“Have you ever done anything you regretted?”

Gu Qiao felt a small jolt inside. She had assumed Luo Peiyin would pick up where they had left off, talking about the figures. But her cousin-brother did not do things the way one might expect.

This question had circled through Gu Qiao’s mind so many times that when she answered now, she was decisive: “No. Every choice I’ve made was the best choice available to me.”

Gu Qiao didn’t let the conversation stall. She heard herself ask, “Cousin-brother, have you ever regretted anything?”

She expected at least two or three seconds of silence to follow. Instead she heard his answer: “No.”

He said it without hesitation.

For no reason she could name, the car suddenly felt stifling. “Cousin-brother, could I open the window a little?”

“I’d hope you could take some responsibility for your own health. That shouldn’t be asking too much of you.”

Gu Qiao took a breath. That was not asking too much at all.

“Could you turn the temperature down a bit? I’m a little warm.”

She knew he would be warm at this temperature too.

Luo Peiyin cracked the window halfway. A breath of cool air rushed in.

Good thing she’d buckled her seatbelt — once they reached the elevated road, the car picked up speed, and without it she might have been flung right out of her seat.

They were seated at a table by the restaurant window, the city at night spread out before them.

Gu Qiao held the menu and browsed. Things were perfectly fine between them like this. She could start from the left and move slowly to the right, choosing dishes she actually wanted — rather than letting her eye go straight to the right-hand column, to the prices. Not like before, when the prices on the right always commanded her heart far more than the dishes on the left.

In the past when they ate out: he was allergic to tomatoes; she was allergic to the right-hand column.

Now when they ate: his allergy probably hadn’t improved — but hers had been cured.

—