◎ Requesting Student Luo Peiyin to Listen for the Announcement ◎

Gu Qiao was wearing a blue sweater with yellow flowers today, each small yellow petal raised and fluffy. It was already autumn now, with a large temperature gap between day and night — this sweater was perfect for early morning and evening, but a little warm at noon.

Gu Qiao had bought this sweater at the market two Sundays ago. She had a slightly impatient temperament; she thought the sweater was simply adorable and couldn’t wait for the weather to get cooler, so she put it on right away. She had come here during summer and had only brought a few summer clothes with her. She didn’t want to wear her maternal cousin-aunt’s old clothes, so she had specially made a trip to the market before her cousin-aunt could gift her autumn clothing. Buying clothes was like everything else — if you didn’t buy anything at all, the urge would gradually fade. But once she bought one piece and set her heart stirring, she began thinking that with a sweater like this, she needed matching trousers and matching shoes, and she noticed girls wearing trench coats these days, looking quite dashing as they walked. When it got even colder, she would need a short overcoat, and a long overcoat too, until she was even contemplating the colors and styles of her hair clips. Gu Qiao’s wants expanded day by day in her imagination; as she browsed, her mind had already accumulated dozens of garments, each one feeling like something she ought to buy.

She didn’t just draw up a shopping list for herself — she thought of her mother, younger sisters, and maternal grandmother as well. She herself liked vibrant, lively colors, but she could appreciate understated, elegant styles too. Gu Qiao always felt that her mother had a certain scholarly air, even though her mother hadn’t actually spent many years in school. She thought a light-grey lapel sweater would suit her mother nicely, and another grey trench coat would look quite attractive on her too. But putting two items in the same color family together would clash, so something else would be needed to coordinate them, and the list kept growing longer — not to mention silk scarves and things of that sort. She had also picked out a duck-egg green lapel sweater for her older younger sister, and a peacock-blue little overcoat for her younger-younger sister, along with a pile of hair ties, hair clips, and headbands in every color and style. Her grandmother needed a woolen pair of trousers and the most comfortable pair of cotton shoes possible.

Gu Qiao had even spared a small thought for her father. Although there was nothing that could make Lou Deyu look handsome in his current state of dress, buying him a nice hat and a pair of lace-up leather shoes would at least bring him closer to the image of himself that he held in his own imagination.

Such daydreaming didn’t last long. By the time she had browsed from one end of the market to the other, Gu Qiao had come back to her senses. The moment she thought of the debts still hanging over her family, even if all these clothes were delivered to her mother, sisters, and grandmother free of charge, they wouldn’t be appropriate to wear back in the village. With debts still unpaid, how could they have the nerve to dress themselves up every day? Besides, the thousand yuan her cousin-aunt had given her family was meant as relief in a time of hardship — it still had to be paid back. It felt deeply improper to keep buying things for herself when she hadn’t yet returned that money. Right now, the most important thing was earning money; there were expenses everywhere. So Gu Qiao’s plans for new clothes collapsed midway after purchasing just the one sweater, and she went back to accepting her cousin-aunt’s hand-me-downs. Gu Qiao examined her cousin-aunt’s gifted clothing with an appreciating eye — there was no need to touch the fabric; the quality was obvious just from looking.

After saying goodbye to Jiang Kai, Gu Qiao headed off in the other direction. The electrician Xiao Qin had told her today where nearby she could find second-hand bicycles for sale. She wanted to buy a bicycle, but a new one was too expensive for her.

Gu Qiao didn’t take a noon nap or go play ball like the others during the lunch hour — she wandered around the campus. By now she had thoroughly familiarized herself with the entire school. To explore the area around the school, having a bicycle would be much more convenient. This exploration also carried a slightly observational intent, which would not be as convenient by public bus. And the public bus cost money too; although her cousin-aunt had given her a monthly bus pass, how could she just keep accepting a monthly pass from her cousin-aunt every single month?

The place selling second-hand bicycles was some distance from the school, so Gu Qiao took the bus to save time. The spot was unorganized and informal; she carefully looked around before confirming that people were indeed selling bicycles here. Each seller looked as though they had chosen this spot on a whim and were ready to leave at any moment.

Gu Qiao asked several people, but all their prices were higher than she had expected. It wasn’t that she thought these second-hand bicycles weren’t worth that much — it was simply that the prices were too high for her.

“How much is this bicycle?” Gu Qiao spotted one that looked very familiar, shaped just like the one her older cousin rode. When she drew closer, it wasn’t just similar — it was exactly the same. Even the scratches were in identical positions.

The seller was a young man with a sparse little moustache, wearing an ill-fitting leather jacket.

The young man looked Gu Qiao up and down: “You’re here to buy a bicycle?”

“Why else would I be asking the price?”

“This is a men’s bicycle — not suitable for you. If you really want to buy one, I have a pink ladies’ bicycle I can let go cheaply, but it’s not here, it’s at my place. If you’re interested…”

“Why should bicycles be divided into men’s and women’s? I like this one.”

The man looked at Gu Qiao’s dress and age and figured she didn’t know the market, so he smiled and asked: “How much are you thinking of paying?” When he smiled, his two stripes of moustache parted wider.

“Who asks it that way? You should name the price; then I’ll decide whether it’s suitable and whether I want to buy it.”

The man named a price. Gu Qiao said: “That’s a bit expensive.” She did genuinely think it was expensive — more than a bit, actually — but for this particular bicycle it was still underpriced.

“Still expensive? This is an imported bicycle, already the lowest price — go ask around and see if you can find this quality selling for this price anywhere else.”

“Really?”

“Little sister, why would I deceive you?”

“Is this bicycle truly original? No replacement parts from other places? I don’t doubt you personally — it’s just that there are so many fraudsters these days, I have to be careful.”

“What kind of talk is that!” The man nudged the tire with his toe. “Look at the markings on the tire — foreign letters.”

“Big brother, what do those foreign letters say?”

“Never you mind that — guaranteed foreign goods!”

“I don’t actually care which country it’s from; I just want a good bicycle.”

“Feel this frame! Feel this seat!” Under the man’s instruction, Gu Qiao inspected the bicycle, and at this point she was two-hundred percent certain the bicycle was Luo Peiyin’s. Her older cousin couldn’t possibly be in such straits that he needed to sell his bicycle — which left only one possibility: this bicycle had been stolen.

“It really is good! I just don’t know how it rides.” She quickly swept her eyes around. If she shouted “bicycle thief!” right now, would anyone come to help her? She was starting to suspect that at least half the bicycles in this spot were stolen goods being fenced. Seeing little hope of finding anyone to help, she looked back at the man in front of her — judging purely by build, she was probably no match for him physically. If she went to report it to the police or went to fetch her cousin, there was no telling whether this man would still be here when she returned.

Thinking it through, Gu Qiao said: “Big brother, could you ride it in a circle for me to see? I want to see if it rides well — if it does, I’ll buy it.”

The man rode around in a circle as Gu Qiao requested: “See? Light and smooth — takes barely any effort at all.”

“Could you lower the seat a little?”

After the seat was lowered to its lowest, Gu Qiao said: “Could you raise it a little?”

After the seat was raised slightly, Gu Qiao said again: “Could you lower it just a bit?”

The man lost patience and cursed under his breath: “What exactly do you want?”

“How about I try riding it first? Once I’ve bought it, I still have to ride it back. If the seat doesn’t fit, how am I going to get it home?”

“Hurry up and try it then! I’ve got other things to do — you’re not my only deal!”

Gu Qiao stepped on and even pressed the bell; before the man could say anything, she had already launched herself forward on the bicycle. Once she sensed she had put a little distance between herself and the man behind her, Gu Qiao turned her head and shouted: “If you want the bicycle, come to the Security Office at Z University!”

When these words reached the ears of the man chasing her, he stopped the pursuit and began hurling a string of foul language. Gu Qiao was riding fast enough that not a single one of those curses reached her ears.

Gu Qiao pedaled with everything she had. It was the middle of the day, and her sweater was already thick to begin with; racing on the bicycle in a panic had left her forehead and the tip of her nose covered in sweat by the time she reached the West Gate of Z University. Only then did she finally let out a breath of relief.

Now, where to find her cousin? It was the lunch break now, so he was probably in his dormitory. Because of her job, Gu Qiao actually knew which dormitory building the fourth-year physics students lived in. But going to the men’s dormitory to look for him — she felt that Luo Peiyin might not appreciate the kind of implications that situation could produce. If she waited until he had class to go find him, she didn’t know what class he had or which classroom he’d be in.

Since Gu Qiao had started working, Luo Peiyin had only come home once. The Saturday before last, when Luo Peiyin came home, she had taken the initiative to speak with him, telling him about her work — of course only the positive aspects. She believed her older cousin cared very much about her, so she was willing to share news of things going smoothly to set his mind at ease. But she found that her cousin was somewhat cooler toward her than before — still polite, but seemingly not very concerned about her work. She felt a small sting of sadness, yet between relatives like them with no blood connection, it was natural to feel warmer the more time you spent together, and to grow distant again after a long absence. Going forward, they would see each other even less, and the distance would probably only grow. But there was nothing to be done about that.

Since he wasn’t willing to have a deep conversation with her, she naturally wouldn’t cling and force him to. She had gone off early Sunday morning to the wholesale market to buy clothes — though she’d bought only this sweater she was currently wearing — and had browsed for about half a day. That afternoon, on a whim, she had gone straight to Beihai Park, and coming out of Beihai, she had gone into Jingshan Park next door. She stood at the top of Jingshan and gazed out at the Forbidden City. She wasn’t planning to buy a ticket to tour the Forbidden City just yet — one ticket cost ten times what Beihai charged, which felt just slightly indulgent for her current circumstances. By the time she hummed her way home singing “Let Us Row the Boat,” Luo Peiyin had already left.

With all this in mind, Gu Qiao rode straight to the university’s broadcasting station. She asked the student there to broadcast an announcement for her, requesting that student Luo Peiyin come to the school’s Security Office to collect his missing bicycle. Fearing there might be others with the same name, Gu Qiao specifically noted that it was the fourth-year physics student Luo Peiyin.

The broadcasting station student was quite curious — a wallet or ID card left behind could be judged a lost item, but a bicycle standing perfectly upright on the ground — how did one determine it was lost property?

So Gu Qiao gave a brief account of how she had retrieved Luo Peiyin’s lost bicycle.

This gave the broadcasting station student a new puzzlement: to recognize Luo Peiyin’s bicycle and go to all this trouble to retrieve it for him, they must be fairly close. If they were that close, couldn’t she just go find him in person? Then again, given Luo Peiyin’s level of fame, it was also possible that someone who didn’t know him personally had recognized his bicycle — but still…

“Fellow student, what you’ve done could be considered a brave and righteous act — why not leave your name?”

Thinking of the thank-you letter incident last time, Gu Qiao only said: “Just returning the bicycle to him is enough.”

“But what if he wants to thank you?”

“No need to thank me. If he asks, you can suggest that when he leaves his bicycle, he should check whether he’s locked it.” With that, Gu Qiao turned to leave; as she was nearly out the door, she added: “Oh right — you might also put out an announcement reminding students who’ve lost bicycles that if they really can’t find them, they can check the area where I found this one.”

By the time the announcement rang out — “Student Luo Peiyin, please come to the Security Office to collect your missing bicycle…” — Gu Qiao had already ridden Luo Peiyin’s bicycle to the Security Office. She told the officers there that a certain location nearby might be a fencing den for second-hand stolen bicycles, and that there were likely quite a few stolen Z University bicycles there.

Coming out of the Security Office, Gu Qiao’s mode of transport reverted to walking. She suddenly remembered she hadn’t eaten lunch, and the canteen probably had no food left at this hour. She’d pushed herself cycling hard for so long, and she really was quite hungry.

During her afternoon work shift, Gu Qiao kept pouring water into herself to get through the hunger. She was drinking so continuously that in the eyes of their office-mate Old Yuan, it looked as though she was determined to drain every drop of water she’d paid for, unwilling to let anyone take even a bit of advantage over her.

Because of this, Old Yuan was three degrees more genial toward Gu Qiao than usual.

At the end of the workday, Jiang Kai walked out of the office alongside Gu Qiao. He chatted with her about the day’s work, then asked whether she had time this coming weekend. Before he could finish his sentence, he heard Gu Qiao call out: “Older cousin!”

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