◎ “Hello, Uncle Zhou” ◎

Jiang Kai followed Gu Qiao’s voice and looked over, tilting his head back slightly to make out the man’s features clearly. Fortunately it was only an older cousin — otherwise there really would be nothing here for him.

Jiang Kai said pleasantly: “Gu Qiao, your older cousin is quite a striking-looking man.”

Gu Qiao thought “striking-looking” wasn’t wrong for describing Luo Peiyin, but it didn’t feel quite right either.

Jiang Kai’s flattery did not receive the response he’d anticipated. Gu Qiao’s older cousin merely gave him a faint smile — neither modest nor offering any compliment in return. That smile was worlds apart from Gu Qiao’s own smile; it seemed to say: *save the pleasantries*.

On this single point alone, Jiang Kai immediately concluded that Gu Qiao’s older cousin and Gu Qiao herself were two entirely different types of people. He was put off by this type of person regardless of gender — and the fact that this one was male only put him off more. But it also made him a little wary. Someone so accustomed to flattery that he could even be discerning about its accuracy might well have some backing. Jiang Kai felt this older cousin looked vaguely familiar, but couldn’t place him for the moment. He figured cozying up to this cousin would get him nowhere, so he said goodbye to Gu Qiao, thinking he’d ask her about it tomorrow morning.

Because the tone of the “see” in Gu Qiao’s “see you” rose on that final syllable — as though she was already looking forward to meeting him again tomorrow — Jiang Kai felt somewhat reassured.

Gu Qiao’s tone once again confirmed Luo Peiyin’s impression of her: this was simply her personality; she was warm toward everyone. But one thing caught Luo Peiyin off guard — Gu Qiao’s voice when she spoke to him was even less warm than when she spoke to that colleague of hers. All these years, Luo Peiyin had never overestimated his importance in other people’s hearts, but he found that he seemed to have overestimated his place in Gu Qiao’s. Seeing him, she was far from pleased — even further from excited. She was merely a little surprised.

The Security Office staff had told Luo Peiyin that the person who returned the bicycle was wearing a blue sweater with yellow flowers. Now this girl in the blue-and-yellow sweater was asking him: “Older cousin, did you come looking for me for something?”

Two weeks apart — her short hair was slightly longer than last time, with a few more wispy strands that poked out from her yellow headband.

“Why didn’t you give your name at the broadcasting station or the Security Office at noon?”

“How did you know it was me?” She hadn’t given her name or said which department she worked in — the broadcasting station student had even assumed she was a student.

“Because they described your face to me.” The description had been vague, but he had immediately thought of her, and everything had fallen into place.

Luo Peiyin looked down at Gu Qiao’s face: “Is ‘doing good deeds without seeking credit’ a quality you particularly admire?”

“It wasn’t such a big thing — no need to leave my name for that.” It wasn’t like they were in a television drama, and there was no need to link both their names together and create some new storyline. She felt Luo Peiyin wouldn’t have wanted that either.

“Could you explain in detail how you got the bicycle back?”

Gu Qiao recounted it matter-of-factly: “I came across that place and saw a bicycle that looked a lot like yours, older cousin. So I told the seller I wanted to buy it, and when I test-rode it, I took the opportunity to ride away.” She omitted her whole series of observations and internal reasoning, and didn’t explain why she’d gone there in the first place — she felt her cousin might not want to hear it. With someone who didn’t wish to have a deep conversation with you, chattering on at length was disrespectful both to them and to yourself.

“Are you in a bad mood?”

“My mood is perfectly fine.”

“Is work going smoothly?” Then why was she saying so little today?

“Very smoothly.” She’d had a small moment of uncertainty at noon, but by the afternoon she’d worked it out. Since studying more and doing more was primarily for her own benefit, she had no reason to feel dejected just because nobody praised her.

“You didn’t eat anything at noon, did you? Let’s go to the Huixia Garden restaurant — we’ll eat together.”

“It’s alright, older cousin — I’ll go home and eat.” She knew the Huixia Garden; it was quite a bit more expensive than the other canteens. She didn’t have extra money to treat her cousin, and she didn’t want him to spend money on her behalf either.

“Can’t you give me a chance to thank you properly?”

“You’ve helped me so much in the past, older cousin — what’s one small thing I’ve done in return? It was nothing.”

“You don’t really believe that. Otherwise, why would you even turn down a meal?”

Gu Qiao climbed onto the back of the bicycle — the same one she’d ridden at noon, though this time she was on the rear rack. This was the third time she’d sat on the back, so she was more practiced than before. One thing didn’t cancel out another. Her cousin’s wanting to thank her and treat her to a meal this time had nothing to do with his not wanting to hear her talk at length last time.

Gu Qiao suddenly remembered something: “Older cousin, do you have a bicycle lock?”

“No.”

“You’ve had the bicycle back since this afternoon and still haven’t locked it? And it actually didn’t get stolen again. If it were stolen a second time, you wouldn’t be so lucky again.”

Luo Peiyin caught the faint note of complaint in Gu Qiao’s voice — she had gone to such trouble to retrieve his bicycle, and he hadn’t even taken it seriously enough to lock it.

“I came to find you as soon as I picked up the bicycle from the Security Office.” At noon when the broadcast was made, he hadn’t been on campus and hadn’t heard it at all. When he returned, several people had told him there was an announcement calling him to the Security Office to collect a missing bicycle. He had never imagined this bicycle would be found and returned. What also surprised him was that Gu Qiao, even after repeated inquiries, had not given her name.

“Then let’s go buy a lock first.” After all her wandering these past days, Gu Qiao had accumulated some useful knowledge — she knew where to buy bicycle locks at a good price.

Gu Qiao directed Luo Peiyin to ride toward the bicycle lock shop. When they arrived, she exercised her bargaining skills in full, haggling over every cent.

Luo Peiyin had assumed Gu Qiao was saving money for herself, but once the price was settled, Gu Qiao reached into her single-shoulder bag — the one Luo Peiyin recognized as belonging to his stepmother — and began to pull out a small purse to pay. He moved to hand over a ten-yuan note before she could, but before he could extend it, Gu Qiao had already intercepted it neatly between two fingers. She handed the shop owner her own counted-out money, exact change in both bills and coins: “Count it — that’s the exact amount, no change needed.”

She accepted the two bicycle locks and returned the intercepted ten-yuan note to Luo Peiyin: “Older cousin, you’re treating me to dinner — at least let me get the lock.”

Luo Peiyin didn’t argue with Gu Qiao and simply pocketed the ten yuan again.

Gu Qiao thought it would be nice if her cousin’s bicycle had a front basket — it might not look the most elegant, but it would give more space to carry things.

She swallowed the suggestion and quietly took her seat on the rear rack.

“You’re quite familiar with this area.”

“I come out to wander when I have nothing to do — I know most of the neighborhood by now.”

“Where have you been exploring these days?”

Gu Qiao listed off a great many places. Every Sunday she was up at the crack of dawn and out exploring — never sitting still for a moment.

“You haven’t been to see the osmanthus blossoms at the Summer Palace?” The places she’d visited were scattered all across the city, east, west, north, and south — perfectly impartial. With such a talent for getting around, how had she missed the Summer Palace, so close to school?

“Not yet.” She left out her reason for not going. She was planning to spend this entire Sunday at the Summer Palace. After all, the two-yuan admission price wasn’t cheap — simply glancing around would be a poor return on the ticket. She wanted to go in as soon as the gates opened and leave only when they closed, getting her full money’s worth. After thoroughly visiting the Summer Palace, she would get serious about saving money and stop going out to play on days off. The ruins of the Old Summer Palace currently charged no admission, so Gu Qiao had already visited there more than once, squeezing in time at lunch and after work.

“Osmanthus trees are everywhere in the south, but there aren’t many places up here where you can see them. Worth going while they’re still in bloom.”

“Alright!”

The bicycle was parked outside the Huixia Garden restaurant; only after she’d supervised Luo Peiyin in putting on both locks was Gu Qiao satisfied. After all, she’d worked so hard to ride it back — if it got lost again right away, what was the point of retrieving it in the first place?

The food prices here were relatively high, and it was far less crowded than the other canteens.

Gu Qiao was the first to notice that Zhou Zhining and Chen Hui were sitting together at a table, along with two people who looked like students and one refined-looking middle-aged man.

Before Gu Qiao could say anything, she heard Zhou Zhining’s voice: “Little Luo-ge!”

Luo Peiyin went over to greet them.

“Little Luo-ge, did you get your bicycle back?”

“Got it.”

Zhou Zhining smiled: “My friend at the broadcasting station told me — at first she guessed this girl had a secret crush on Little Luo-ge and was deliberately creating a chance encounter by returning the bicycle. After all, finding a stolen bicycle again is nearly impossible; even if by some incredible coincidence you ran into someone selling a stolen bike, who but the owner themselves could identify it? But because the girl refused to give her name no matter what, my friend ended up believing she was telling the truth. Though I’m not so sure — it’s also possible the girl realized her plan had too many flaws and could cause bigger trouble, so she returned the bicycle to cut her losses.”

Gu Qiao was both impressed and astonished by the imagination of the broadcasting station student and Zhou Zhining. It was a good thing she hadn’t given her name — otherwise she might not have been interpreted as doing something commendable at all.

Luo Peiyin smiled: “I wouldn’t think anyone would go to all that trouble for my sake. It was Gu Qiao who got the bicycle back from the bicycle thief.”

It was as though Gu Qiao only existed through Luo Peiyin’s words — it was only when he said her name that Zhou Zhining registered her presence.

Zhou Zhining smiled and said: “Gu Qiao, I didn’t know it was you — I was just speculating based on ordinary logic. Please don’t take it to heart. But why did you go to the broadcasting station instead of finding Little Luo-ge directly?” Thinking back on the thank-you letter incident, Zhou Zhining couldn’t help but wonder. This time Gu Qiao hadn’t revealed her name, and yet Luo Peiyin had immediately known it was her. Neither occasion had been anything major — so why go to the trouble of making it public both times? Perhaps Gu Qiao harbored a deep passion for journalism and always wanted to drum up some news?

“I thought it would be faster.” She smiled back at Zhou Zhining. “Thank goodness for people like you in journalism — messages get passed along much more quickly. It was more efficient than if I’d gone to find him myself.” The truth was, they weren’t close enough for her to simply go looking for him directly — if they were really that close, she never would have used the broadcast.

Even Zhou Zhining found herself thinking Gu Qiao had a point.

“Little Luo-ge, come join us — my dad was just talking about you. Let’s have a proper chat. Do you know Chen Hui? He’s in the same department as you. He was also hoping to ask you about the TOEFL exam.”

Luo Peiyin acknowledged his junior classman, then said to Zhou Zhining: “Since I told Gu Qiao I was treating her to dinner, it’s better to show a bit of sincerity. Using your table’s food to treat her would feel a bit lacking in that department.”

Zhou Zan spoke at that point: “Since Peiyin wants to treat his younger cousin to dinner personally, let’s not pressure him.”

When Gu Qiao heard Zhou Zhining say “dad,” she immediately realized that the middle-aged man sitting beside Zhou Zhining was Zhou Zan. He had arranged work for her — she couldn’t see him and act as though she hadn’t. She’d actually also intended to greet Chen Hui, but Chen Hui didn’t seem inclined to acknowledge her; she recalled what Chen Qing had once said, and so she addressed only Zhou Zan: “Hello, Uncle Zhou!”

Zhou Zan finally smiled with the warmth of an elder toward a young person: “Hello.”

He had been avoiding looking at Gu Qiao up until now — he hadn’t known how Gu Qiao’s parents had introduced him to her. Hearing Gu Qiao call out that crisp, clear “Uncle Zhou,” Zhou Zan confirmed that Gu Qiao’s parents had never mentioned him to her. They had vanished from his life, and he had vanished from theirs.

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