◎First Prize◎

Zhao Yue took one look at Xiao Jia’s new gloves and decided he’d been swindled. Being swindled was one thing, but in his confusion he was apparently trying to drag his friends into it as well. These gloves — he had no intention of buying any.

“She made it perfectly clear they were pigskin. And she proactively knocked off the change.”

“Smart! Play the long game to catch the big fish. That girl’s quite good at reading people. Though, not that I need to say this — younger brother, you really need to work on that habit of yours of rushing to give things away the moment you see a pretty girl.”

“You’re so boring. You twist everything in that direction.” And what had happened with that girl before wasn’t what Zhao Yue imagined — though laying out the facts, there wasn’t much difference.

Xiao Jia continued: “I actually admire her. She was freezing cold and still in completely high spirits. She looks like she’s not even twenty, and yet she’s so capable.” He went on to give a brief account of how he’d first encountered the girl — how she had helped him retrieve something he’d dropped, and how she was now doing brisk business selling gloves outside the school. He had excelled at studying and exams from a young age, to the point where he regarded them as easy. For things he couldn’t do himself, he tended to overestimate their difficulty. He couldn’t imagine standing out in the freezing cold selling gloves cheerfully while closing deals quickly, and so he viewed Gu Qiao — who could — with a mixture of five parts admiration and five parts curiosity.

“There’s no shortage of people who start working before twenty. My grandfather was fighting the Japanese invaders at fourteen. It’s only your lot, from your grandparents’ generation all the way through, young and old alike, buried nose-deep in books. Never mind people far away — take your Brother Luo’s cousin, for instance. She was out on her own making her way in the world at eighteen.”

Zhao Yue sighed and said to Luo Peiyin: “He listens to you. You’d better talk some sense into him — don’t let your friend go astray again and get his heart broken.”

Luo Peiyin shot Zhao Yue a look. Zhao Yue took the hint and changed the subject: “Over the winter break I’m going to Hainan with my brother. Want to come along? Lots of opportunities down there right now — land prices are rising fast.” Zhao Yue was still in school, but his mind had long since left. He was convinced it was a business that could only make money. If he had the funds, he would absolutely try his luck in Hainan. Unfortunately, his pockets were thin.

“I’ll think about it.”

“If you’re going, let’s book our tickets together.”

Xiao Jia hadn’t managed to find any new buyers, and felt a little embarrassed about facing Gu Qiao. He thought he’d buy a few more pairs of gloves tomorrow — that way he wouldn’t have been blowing empty air. But when he went back to where Gu Qiao had been selling gloves, she was no longer there.

The next time Xiao Jia saw Gu Qiao was at the English Corner.

—

Xiao Jia had first come to the English Corner because Zhou Zhining had brought him. Their fathers were friends. But after arriving, the two of them had only spoken once. Zhou Zhining and Xiao Jia didn’t really click — when Xiao Jia got onto a topic that interested him, he easily fell into talking to himself, and at that point his speaking speed became incredibly fast regardless of whether he was speaking Chinese or English, making listeners lose any desire to follow along.

Zhou Zhining knew that Xiao Jia and Luo Peiyin got along well. She had recently been unable to see Luo Peiyin for various reasons and wanted to ask Xiao Jia what he had been up to lately. Her intention was to ask about Luo Peiyin, but in Xiao Jia’s hands, everything came out as what he and Luo Peiyin had been discussing about the latest developments in computing — always his own domain. Zhou Zhining wrinkled her brow in mild frustration. When would this person ever understand that others had no interest in him or the topics he found fascinating? Her father Zhou Zan held Xiao Jia in high regard, calling him one of those people whose depth was hidden behind a simple exterior, while his praise for Luo Peiyin was far more general. She agreed with her father on most things, but on this particular point she remained noncommittal.

Xiao Jia was a little oblivious, but not entirely without awareness. The moment he sensed Zhou Zhining no longer wished to continue the conversation, he immediately said goodbye and moved on to find someone else to talk to.

It was at that moment that he spotted Gu Qiao. She was chatting with another young man. He walked over and stood nearby, and when they had more or less finished talking, Gu Qiao noticed him.

Gu Qiao’s way of greeting people had already evolved well beyond the stiff formality of her first visit.

From a distance, Zhou Zhining watched Xiao Jia and Gu Qiao in animated conversation and found it baffling. She supposed Luo Peiyin must have introduced the two of them. But Xiao Jia — with his habit of swallowing sounds and rushing syllables when his pace picked up — was barely comprehensible even to native English speakers. How could Gu Qiao possibly keep up?

When Xiao Jia spoke to Gu Qiao, his pace was unhurried. He wasn’t yet bringing up the topics he cared most about. First he apologised to Gu Qiao — he hadn’t managed to find any other glove buyers, and he was sorry to have let her down.

Gu Qiao hadn’t expected anything of the sort and felt no disappointment whatsoever. She told him in English that it was fine, not to worry about it.

Xiao Jia then expressed his admiration for Gu Qiao working hard and still coming to study in her spare time. Gu Qiao thought inwardly: This is nothing — I also have a job at the general affairs office. Though Gu Qiao’s English was fairly ordinary, in some ways English suited her mode of expression better. For instance, rather than saying “it’s nothing,” she simply said “thank you.”

Eventually the conversation shifted to Xiao Jia’s favourite topics, and his pace, without him noticing, started to accelerate. As it happened, Gu Qiao found it somewhat interesting, and she took out her small notebook and began taking notes. In front of Xiao Jia she felt entirely at ease — when she didn’t understand something, she made no attempt to hide it. She was reminded that a couple of days ago, Luo Peiyin had suggested they visit an art gallery together, and she had flatly refused. She knew little about art or art history. She didn’t want to reveal that gap in her knowledge in front of Luo Peiyin. Even though she knew perfectly well that he already knew about it. Gu Qiao found that feeling distinctly uncomfortable — it made her feel a little unlike herself.

Xiao Jia, conscious of Gu Qiao’s English level, deliberately slowed his pace.

After the English Corner session ended, Xiao Jia offered to walk Gu Qiao home. Gu Qiao laughed and declined. Having someone this clueless walk her home — she’d end up worrying about whether he’d make it back himself. Gu Qiao declared cheerfully that she always made her way home alone. In front of Xiao Jia, she felt like a very capable adult.

—

When the time came to restock her inventory, Gu Qiao told Luo Peiyin that she had found a buying partner this time — someone she had met at the Western District department store counter. She hadn’t actually found anyone, but she didn’t want to trouble him into riding on a packed overnight train with her again. It hadn’t only been an ordeal for Luo Peiyin — it had been one for her too. And ultimately she would have to manage alone, so it was better to break the habit now before it became harder to change later.

“Really?”

“Cousin, if I’m lying to you, then I’ll…”

“Don’t make careless vows to people.”

Gu Qiao said with something like a jest: “Cousin, if I’m lying to you, may I become allergic to everything I love to eat.” Gu Qiao firmly believed allergies were something you were born with — they couldn’t develop later in life.

“You really are something…”

Luo Peiyin remembered the story about Xiao Jia and the pigskin gloves. He wanted to ask Gu Qiao about it, but stopped himself before he even opened his mouth.

—

The new batch of goods Gu Qiao had brought in sold out the very next day. A stallholder had verbally agreed to a deal with an Eastern European buyer for three thousand pairs of gloves, promising delivery the same day. But there weren’t nearly enough in stock, so he had to go around collecting from other stalls. As it happened, Gu Qiao was selling right on the outskirts of the market. The gloves from her stall were swept up in the collection — he’d take however many she had. After enough days on the market, Gu Qiao had developed enough experience to sense this man had just secured a sizeable deal. If others were eating the meat, she was at least going to get some broth — she raised the price per pair by fifty cents. To her surprise, the man didn’t haggle at all. She thought: selling in bulk to foreigners, the margin must be much greater. What a pity she still hadn’t figured out how to do business with foreigners.

At the English Corner, Gu Qiao talked with Xiao Jia about everything — foreign exchange certificates, bank drafts, all the things she wanted to understand but hadn’t yet. It was all business-related. Some of it Xiao Jia didn’t fully understand either, but he was extremely skilled at gathering information — he’d ask his contacts and report back to Gu Qiao the following time. Because Zhao Yue always seized any chance to tease him, he hadn’t asked Zhao Yue — nor anyone in Zhao Yue’s circle. He went directly to Luo Peiyin.

After the English Corner session ended that day, Xiao Jia insisted on walking Gu Qiao home. Since she still had questions she wanted to ask, she didn’t refuse — she planned to send him back halfway anyway.

Because she had gained quite a lot of useful information from Xiao Jia, she wanted to give him a small gift in thanks. But she had nothing to offer except gloves.

On the way home, she happened to pass a shop selling Asian Games lottery tickets. Without a second thought, she went in and bought two — handed one to Xiao Jia, kept one for herself.

In anticipation of the Asian Games the following year, that summer Asian Games Fund lottery tickets had gone on sale — one yuan per ticket. The tickets were divided into two rounds of drawing. The first was a scratch-off instant win, with prizes ranging from first place to sixth. First place was five hundred yuan; sixth place was one yuan — participation being the point. The second round would be drawn by lottery at the end of the following month. Its prizes were far more valuable — the grand prize was ten thousand yuan in cash plus a complimentary three-day trip to Beijing. If the trip was declined, it could be exchanged for one thousand five hundred yuan.

Gu Qiao didn’t place much hope in the second round — she just quietly wished for herself to win the five hundred yuan first prize. She had intended to scratch casually, but in the moment she couldn’t help raising her hopes a little.

She listened to her own heartbeat as she slowly scratched the ticket open. It thanked her for her support of the Asian Games.

She turned her expectant eyes toward Xiao Jia: “Did you win?”

Xiao Jia scratched far faster than Gu Qiao: “Five hundred yuan!” He had bought Asian Games lottery tickets before, but they had always thanked him for his support without offering anything in return. Today he had won five hundred — it was entirely unexpected.

Five hundred yuan? Gu Qiao took the ticket and looked at it — she hadn’t misread it. Her feelings were extraordinarily complicated. If Xiao Jia hadn’t been there, she would certainly have grabbed her own hair and demanded of herself: why did she give that ticket to Xiao Jia instead of keeping it? Why didn’t she keep it? Why didn’t she keep it? Why didn’t she keep it? Why didn’t she keep it?

But Gu Qiao pulled her expression back in time. She turned to Xiao Jia and let a wide smile bloom across her face, doing her utmost to appear genuinely delighted: “Congratulations. You’re very lucky.”

Xiao Jia felt the money ought to go to the person who needed it most: “You bought the ticket. The money should be yours. If you hadn’t bought it, I would never have won.”

Gu Qiao gritted her teeth and smiled: “I gave it to you. Whatever it wins is yours.”

—