◎ The Ring ◎

At the dinner table, the fourth Luo son heard his father mention that his second elder brother was now based permanently in Shanghai and would be coming home for the New Year this year.

The fourth Luo son couldn’t help but say: “Since Second Brother is in Shanghai, he must have heard about Cousin’s news by now.” Through his own persistent efforts at promotion, both his father and mother were now thoroughly familiar with Gu Qiao’s professional trajectory. He was very much looking forward to his second brother learning about it properly too.

Since Second Brother was stationed in Shanghai, he must have heard that Cousin’s software had been selling extremely well. His ex-girlfriend, whom he had broken up with, was making a name for herself right under his nose — one could only wonder whether he was regretting it now.

The fourth Luo son was actually quite happy to let his second brother have a good, thorough taste of regret. When the two of them had been together, he’d made sure all the family relatives knew about it — only for them to break up not long after. What a tremendous blow that must have been to Cousin. Had he known they would break up, he absolutely would never have spread the news so widely. Fortunately, Cousin hadn’t blamed him for it at all.

But even if she didn’t blame him, that didn’t mean he didn’t blame himself.

Among his classmates were fans of *Wandering Hero*, and the fourth Luo son had followed every piece of news as it came out. When the computer virus story had blown up, he’d been sick with worry on Cousin’s behalf — he’d been the one constantly bringing up Gu Qiao at home, but for those two days at the dinner table he’d been uncharacteristically silent. He’d called Cousin specifically to encourage her, and it had clearly been very effective — her fighting spirit had been enormously fired up by his encouragement. Watching the storm pass and the software’s sales climb higher than before, he’d been so happy for Cousin that the topic he’d temporarily shelved was brought back to the dinner table once more.

All his classmates knew he had a cousin who sold software and that he could use the latest software for free. And the fourth Luo son certainly didn’t enjoy his cousin’s generosity without giving back in return. Whenever a classmate got a new computer or needed new software, he was the first to promote Gu Qiao’s software shop — the unofficial promotional ambassador of the Gu Jia Software Store at his affiliated high school.

Luo Bo’an had heard Gu Qiao mentioned by his fourth son more times than he could count. She was young, and these accomplishments were certainly impressive. But having her name come up constantly day after day — was his son trying to imply something? It wasn’t as though he had been the one to drive a wedge between his son and Gu Qiao.

Of course, he hadn’t been particularly in favor of his son being with Gu Qiao — but the speed with which his son had ended things afterward was also not what he’d wanted. They were relatives, after all. To have things turn out this way made meetings uncomfortable for everyone. Every time Gu Qiao came to the house, he’d go out of his way to avoid her, and on the occasions when he couldn’t avoid it, hearing her call him *uncle*, he felt an enormous complexity of emotion inside. Because he felt his son had wronged her, he smiled at Gu Qiao with an extra warmth and kindness that exceeded all natural proportion, and that excessive warmth in turn made even Gu Qiao uncomfortable.

But what was done was done. Now that they had broken up, there was little point in dwelling on it further. His son was back after so long — there was no need to dredge up old matters and make things awkward.

He cleared his throat and reminded his youngest son: “When your second brother gets back, don’t keep bringing up your Cousin at the table.”

The fourth Luo son was indignant: “Why not? The papers talk about her every day — why can’t I?”

Luo Bo’an offered no explanation. He simply gave his youngest son a look. The fourth Luo son, for all his defiance, did still fear his father, and swallowed what he’d been about to say.

Mrs. Luo also reminded her son that when his second brother returned, he was to stop bringing up Cousin.

The fourth Luo son put on an air of innocence and asked: “Why? Cousin hasn’t done anything wrong to Second Brother. I’m sure Second Brother will be happy for Cousin’s success.”

Mrs. Luo couldn’t be bothered to explain: “If you say it one more time, your New Year’s money is gone.” Mrs. Luo had seen Gu Qiao’s name in the papers and felt a profound complexity of emotion. Gu Qiao had rejected the path she’d laid out for her and built her own. But when Old Four brought up Gu Qiao’s achievements in front of her husband, she was inwardly pleased — however things had turned out, Gu Qiao was still her family, and they shared the surname Gu. Having her husband underestimate her family’s side was never something she could be glad about.

With both parents refusing to let him bring up Cousin, the fourth Luo son could only turn to his third sister for support.

But the third Luo daughter, looking at her brother’s loose tongue, said the same thing: “When Second Brother comes back, don’t go around mentioning Cousin in front of him all the time.”

The third Luo daughter found it baffling — with a mouth this indiscreet, how was her little brother still managing to have girls at school who liked him? The girls these days really couldn’t read people. If they knew what he was actually like, not one of them would look twice at him. But whether they looked at him or not, the fourth Luo son couldn’t have cared less — he had no room in his head for that sort of thing.

The fourth Luo son felt deeply let down by his third sister: “When the shop releases new software, Cousin thinks of you first and gives it to you for free. Shouldn’t you be doing something for Cousin in return?”

“I do far more than you.” Lately, the birthday gifts she sent her friends were all educational software from Gu Qiao’s shop. Worried that Cousin Qiao wouldn’t be willing to take money from someone who wasn’t yet an adult, she’d been very careful whenever she went to the shop to buy software — terrified that Cousin would recognize her.

The third Luo daughter felt her brother was being truly thick-headed and simply said it outright: “What makes you so certain it was Second Brother who ended things? Did Cousin ever tell you it was Second Brother who brought it up? What if it was Cousin who ended it? Old Four, you haven’t exactly been stingy about accepting the gifts Second Brother sends you every year. Is that how you treat a brother who sends you gifts?”

The fourth Luo son did receive gifts from his second brother every year, but he felt they were perfunctory — given out of politeness, not with any thought for his personal preferences, unlike Cousin. That was precisely why, even though he accepted Second Brother’s gifts each year, it in no way prevented him from firmly standing on Cousin’s side.

The fourth Luo son utterly rejected his third sister’s view: “Impossible. You’ve just been bought off by Second Brother.”

He went on dismissively: “If Second Brother didn’t intend to stay with Cousin forever, why would he have bothered telling the whole family? He makes the announcement, then breaks up not long after — what was the point of all that? Other than bringing a heap of confused gossip, there was nothing to be gained. Second Brother would never play around with something like that.”

The fourth Luo son muttered under his breath: “Who knows why he’d do that.”

The third Luo daughter gave him a contemptuous look: “Explaining it to you would be useless. Second Brother has never specially informed the family about anything he does. Not even Dad gets told about his decisions most of the time. So why would he tell everyone about him and Cousin being together? It must have been because Cousin wasn’t entirely certain about the relationship, and he wanted to prove through this that he was serious. I’d say Second Brother was most likely the one who got dumped. So don’t go out of your way to bring Cousin up in front of him and rub salt in the wound.”

Old Four still refused to accept his third sister’s reasoning: “Then why do you say Cousin was the one who ended it? Does that mean Cousin was playing around with feelings? I think Cousin was far more serious than Second Brother.”

The third Luo daughter had no patience left for this and said it plainly: “I never said Cousin was playing around with feelings. But I want to ask you something — you’re so certain Cousin wasn’t the one who ended it, does that mean you think Cousin doesn’t even have the right to end things?”

“Of course not—” The fourth Luo son was so exasperated by his third sister turning it around on him like this that he could barely speak. Of course Cousin had every right to be the one to end things, it was just—

The whole family was advising him not to bring up Cousin in front of his second brother. The fourth Luo son thought: it seems the truth is always in the hands of the minority. But even if he held his tongue, no one could stop him from leaving newspapers with Gu Qiao’s coverage around the house. He figured that even without saying a word, his second brother would eventually see it in the papers himself.

By the time Gu Qiao returned to Beijing it was already the twenty-ninth day of the last lunar month, and getting last-minute tickets was of course a terrible ordeal. As it happened, Luo Peiyin suggested driving back — and along the way they could take in the scenery.

Thinking about such a long drive, Gu Qiao offered to take the wheel for a stretch first — she knew the roads in this area well enough; once they reached roads she didn’t know, she wouldn’t be able to help even if she wanted to.

But Luo Peiyin refused her offer: “You rest. Tonight I’m hoping to eat a meal you’ve cooked.”

“Those two things don’t conflict.”

Luo Peiyin smiled and still refused to give up the steering wheel: “I remember that last night you told me you very much wanted to rest.”

Thinking about what had happened the previous night, Gu Qiao felt her ears grow warm all over again.

The journey was long, yet neither of them found it dull. With only the two of them in the car and no one else, they were finally able to have a proper conversation.

But then this rare peace was broken — Gu Qiao’s phone rang. The caller was no stranger, and was very familiar to Luo Peiyin as well.

The fourth Luo son, though he had been broadcasting Gu Qiao’s news to everyone at home and was prepared to continue the briefing once his second brother returned, had never once been willing to bring up his second brother in front of Cousin Qiao — he was afraid of making her sad.

This time too, the fourth Luo son didn’t say a single word about his second brother during the call. He simply praised her software for selling so well, and mentioned that many of his classmates knew he had a Cousin like her. Right up until the end, the fourth Luo son didn’t say the thing he most wanted to say. He’d been meaning to tell Gu Qiao that she didn’t need to come over this year for the holiday — running into his second brother would be too awkward — but for some reason, those words were simply too difficult to say out loud.

Luo Peiyin could already tell from the content and tone of Gu Qiao’s side of the conversation who had called: “Old Four?”

“Yes. I forgot to tell him you’re right here beside me. But since you’re going back this time, you two will get to see each other anyway.”

“Old Four might not be so eager to see me.”

“How could that be?”

Luo Peiyin suddenly said: “Old Four told me you used to go on blind dates all the time. Will you tell me about your failed blind date experiences?”

“I have never been on a single blind date.” She’d always been curious why Luo Peiyin used to bring up blind dates — so it had been Old Four who said it. But still—

“There’s no need to deny it — it’s all in the past now. Old Four respects you too much to go around making things up about you behind your back.”

“I truly haven’t — why would I lie about something like this?” If Old Four had been saying that, Gu Qiao felt as though she’d jumped into the Huangpu River and could never wash herself clean no matter how hard she tried — though of course, the car had long since left Shanghai, and the Huangpu River was getting farther away by the minute.

Luo Peiyin looked at Gu Qiao with a smile. Only then did she realize he’d been teasing her on purpose.

By the time the car was approaching their destination, snow had begun to fall from the sky. The flakes grew larger and larger — exactly the kind of weather where accidents were most likely to happen.

The sky had just about gone dark, and they still hadn’t made it home. Something had happened up ahead, and a long line of cars was backed up on the road. Gu Qiao looked down at her watch, with no idea how long the delay might last.

As she sat there fretting, she heard Luo Peiyin say: “Can you do me a favor?”

“Why so formal?”

“Hold out your hand.”

Luo Peiyin took a small box from his coat pocket. He had originally planned to show her once they were home, but there was no telling now when they’d arrive.

Back in those days, Luo Peiyin had made a plan: one of the stops on Gu Qiao’s American trip was Las Vegas, because that was the easiest place to process a marriage license. Only a marriage certificate would allow him to apply for a spousal visa. He had desperately wanted to bring her over to be with him — to make up for the university education she’d never had.

But Gu Qiao never came. He still went to Las Vegas on his own. Since he was already there, he tried out the local experience.

They say bad luck in love brings good luck at the tables.

But Luo Peiyin hadn’t expected to find himself quite *this* fortunate at the gambling table. Every time he won, he failed to know when to stop — he sat down at the next round with the attitude of *if I lose, I lose*. But as it turned out, the proverb proved itself thoroughly in his case: he didn’t lose a single time.

He didn’t particularly want to win, yet he kept winning. A certain man of Chinese expertise kept losing — as if to console himself, he recited that Chinese proverb: “Hands this lucky, your girlfriend must be in someone else’s bed.”

Luo Peiyin had thrown a punch.

The money he’d won was exchanged for a three-carat yellow diamond of very high clarity. He didn’t quite know what he was buying it for — it wasn’t as if he could give it to anyone; it would have been more practical to buy a car. Probably because the prospect of losing a three-carat yellow diamond was more likely to make Gu Qiao feel genuine regret than losing a thirty-point diamond ring. Asking someone whether they regretted losing a thirty-point ring was somewhat laughable.

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