“Say no more. Any legal issues you have down the road, I’ve got you covered.”
“Thank you, Xun-ge!!!”
“Shameless!” Liu Shiyun couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “Do you have any idea — if everyone in the world was like you, all of us studying law and planning to become lawyers might as well go starve, with everyone trying to freeload off you like this!”
The two of them bickered a bit more, as usual, before finally getting distracted by the barbecue and stone-pot bibimbap in front of them.
Though Qian Chuan still found the whole “Qian Wei and Lu Xun” thing hard to fully wrap his head around, suspicion aside, he found himself getting along surprisingly well with Lu Xun as they chatted over the grill. They went from soccer to the NBA, and it turned out they even rooted for the same teams and liked the same players — while Liu Shiyun, who had at least a passing interest in sports, found her own tastes running completely opposite to theirs.
When Lu Xun excused himself briefly to use the restroom, Qian Chuan watched him go, looking wistful. “Lu Xun and I really do think alike — great minds and all that!” He then shot Liu Shiyun a look of thorough disdain. “See, you women just support whichever athlete is best-looking. Us men are different — we look at skill! That’s what real taste and judgment looks like!”
Liu Shiyun wasn’t about to back down. “Oh sure, sure. And all that taste and judgment — didn’t stop Mo Zixin from dumping you, did it?”
“I’m the one who broke up with her! I dumped her, thank you very much!”
This caught Liu Shiyun off guard. “You broke up with her?” She looked skeptical. “Why? Weren’t you head over heels for her? Did you fall for someone else?”
Qian Chuan said irritably, “She couldn’t keep it in her pants!”
Liu Shiyun blinked. “She cheated?!”
Qian Chuan didn’t answer, which was answer enough.
Liu Shiyun immediately slapped the table and downed her beer in one gulp. “Cheaters deserve to die!” Instead of the mockery Qian Chuan had braced for, she clapped him on the shoulder with heartfelt solidarity. “It’s fine, you’re tall, good-looking, great legs — sure, you’re not the sharpest tool in the shed sometimes, but look at it this way, you’re pure of heart! Genuinely innocent guys like you are a rare commodity these days!”
Qian Chuan: ??? Was that a compliment or an insult???
“Fellow sufferers, united in misfortune.” Liu Shiyun poured Qian Chuan a beer. “Come on, let’s drink to it.”
Qian Wei kindly chimed in to explain, “Her ex cheated on her too.”
At that, the way Qian Chuan looked at Liu Shiyun changed completely — a shared sense of outrage lit him right up. “Men who cheat are the absolute lowest of the low!”
Liu Shiyun had finally found a sympathetic ear, and with the alcohol loosening her tongue, she launched into the whole sordid tale of Tang Lü’s misdeeds all over again for Qian Chuan’s benefit. Qian Chuan, putting himself in her shoes, grew furious as he listened, slamming the table. “Tang Lü from the architecture department at A Engineering University, huh? Cheating’s bad enough, but acting so smug and self-righteous about it?! Liu Shiyun, you can’t just let that slide!”
“What am I supposed to do about it? I’d love to beat him up myself, but could I actually win that fight?”
Qian Chuan, a little drunk himself by now, rolled up his sleeves. “I’ll go beat him up for you! Even as a bystander, I can’t stand this!”
For the first time, the two of them found themselves not bickering at all, but instead feeling a real sense of kinship.
Liu Shiyun said sincerely, “Qian Chuan, a loyal guy like you deserves way better than Mo Zixin. That girl was clearly the type to always want what she doesn’t have. Seriously, you’re straightforward and sunny, and someone as full of hidden agendas as her was never right for you. Besides, you’re this athletic, energetic, handsome guy — there’s plenty of fish in the sea.”
“Same goes for you! Liu Shiyun, honestly, I’ve always secretly admired how sharp your tongue is. Every time we argue, I privately think your logic is airtight, no holes in it anywhere — you’ve got real opinions, you’re independent, you own your choices. Everyone’s got their own kind of charm, and Tang Lü, only knowing how to appreciate some cookie-cutter idea of a ‘gentle, virtuous’ woman, just proves he’s got no depth and never deserved you in the first place. They say guys who go for that soft, easily-controlled type usually do it because they’re not capable enough themselves, too insecure, so they need someone weaker than them…”
And so Qian Wei sat there, dumbstruck, watching her supposed archenemies Qian Chuan and Liu Shiyun pour their hearts out and lavish praise on each other without restraint, the whole scene practically glowing with harmony.
“You’re seriously handsome!”
“Oh, please — you’re the gorgeous one!”
“Your body is amazing!”
“Ha-ha-ha, you’re not bad yourself!”
“Even your voice sounds great!”
“So does yours!”
…
By the end, having apparently run out of genuine compliments to exchange, the conversation shifted into:
“Your Mandarin pronunciation is really standard.”
“You’ve got a lot of hair!”
“You’ve got such a good appetite!”
“You know, your leg hair grows in really evenly!”
…
In the end, it was Qian Wei and Lu Xun, one on each side, who hauled the two tipsy drunkards back to their dorms. Qian Wei had just gotten Liu Shiyun settled when she got a call from Lu Xun.
“Come downstairs.”
Qian Wei hurried down and found Lu Xun standing there in the night air, holding a small bag.
“For you.”
Qian Wei opened it and found a bottle of yogurt inside. “Hm?”
Lu Xun pressed his lips together. “After all that hot pot and barbecue, yogurt is good for your stomach.”
Qian Wei took a sip — strawberry flavor, sweet, matching her mood perfectly right now.
“Oh, right — the confession letter?”
Earlier, caught up in the whirlwind of Qian Chuan and Liu Shiyun’s mutual flattery session, the letter had just been sitting there under Qian Chuan’s hand at the table. Qian Wei reached for it now, but Lu Xun beat her to it, snatching it away and tucking it into his pants pocket.
The culprit behind this mid-air interception now looked perfectly composed. “Returning it to its rightful owner.”
“Hey? I haven’t even read it yet!” Qian Wei protested. “Isn’t it written to me? If we’re talking rightful owners, that would be me!”
“You never actually received it — you never took possession of it. So ownership was never transferred. It’s still mine.”
Qian Wei couldn’t out-argue him on the legal technicalities, but she thought — I can absolutely out-stubborn him.
“No fair. I haven’t read it. I want to read it.”
But Lu Xun was firm on this. “Don’t. The letter’s already served its purpose anyway.”
Good grief! The pride of the law school, Lu Xun, had written her a confession letter, Qian Wei thought — a letter like that ought to be framed and hung on the wall for admiration! If she didn’t even get to read it, what a colossal waste!
But no matter how much Qian Wei begged and pleaded, Lu Xun wouldn’t budge.
Seeing no way to break through, Qian Wei gave up arguing. But just as Lu Xun let his guard down, assuming she’d finally given up, Qian Wei made her move — she darted her hand into his pocket in a flash, pulled out the letter, waved it triumphantly at him, and took off running like a rabbit.
Clutching the letter, she sprinted all the way up to her dorm room without stopping, and only once she was safely there did she finally relax. She unfolded the letter.
She read through his confession — how he’d meant to tell her in person once she was back at school on Monday, but had underestimated himself and couldn’t wait even a single day once he realized how much he liked her; how he’d chosen to write because she liked things with an old-fashioned charm, and because writing, without having to face her directly, was the only way he could keep himself calm enough to get the words out; how even though he might not be her type, he was willing to work at becoming the kind of person she’d like — learning to cook, learning to coax and comfort her, learning to be gentle, patient, and open-hearted, learning to be someone fun and easygoing. She was the only person, the first and last, he had ever pursued of his own will — he’d never imagined a day would come when he’d be the one to make the first move. He wrote that he used to be unable to understand the idea that in the face of true love, a person has no pride or dignity left to hold onto — but now, he thought he finally understood.
He wrote about how, walking beside her, he found himself slowing his steps without meaning to, wanting only to walk a little further, a little longer, by her side — how even as he kept telling himself not to, his gaze kept drifting toward her out of the corner of his eye, drawn again and again to her, happy, carefree, at ease… He couldn’t put the feeling into words, only that the closer he got to her, the more unsteady he felt.
He wrote that he hoped the curve of her cheek when she smiled would belong to him alone; that her playful, mischievous side would belong to him alone; the way she looked listening to the morning bells, her eyes, her smile, the light in her gaze, the curve of her lips, the delicate line of her nose — he hoped that after she read this letter, all of it would belong to him, and only him, forever.
Even just reading the words on the page, Qian Wei could picture with perfect clarity the image of Lu Xun sitting under a lamp, brow furrowed, lips pressed together in serious concentration as he wrote. Knowing his perfectionist, borderline obsessive nature, she suspected there were probably dozens of discarded drafts behind the one now lying in front of her.
As she read, she couldn’t help the corners of her mouth curling up. It was hard to imagine — someone as proud and aloof as Lu Xun, writing something this thoroughly, helplessly earnest. She remembered his motto listed in the outstanding-student showcase had been something like “changes for no one.”
Just as she was thinking about him, as if by some telepathic connection, her phone rang. It was Lu Xun.
Though his voice still carried its usual composure, there was a faint unevenness leaking through at the edges. He asked, feigning casualness, “Did you read the letter?” Before Qian Wei could even answer, he cleared his throat. “It was my first time writing something like that, so it’s got its flaws…” He paused, then added, “The writing was probably a bit juvenile, and the phrasing pretty simple…” He sounded almost flustered. “I really didn’t mean for you to see this particular draft — it’s a bit of an embarrassing relic. I could’ve written you a better one. As a law student, honestly, the logic and structure in there are far too sloppy…”
“It wasn’t.” Qian Wei couldn’t help grinning. “It was really good.”
She wanted to tell him — in the face of real love, logic and structure and careful phrasing all fall apart, because your heart is so full of the other person there’s no room left for anything else. She didn’t need him to explain it. She already knew. She’d always known.
“Lu Xun, you don’t need to work at becoming the person I’d like.”
Lu Xun sounded a little caught off guard, his voice rising slightly in surprise. “Hm?”
“Because you’re already exactly the person I like.”
By now, everyone else in the dorm was asleep — Liu Shiyun was even letting out the faintest little snore — but Qian Wei couldn’t sleep at all.
“Qian Wei.” Lu Xun’s voice carried a trace of drowsy huskiness, all the more enticing in the middle of the night. “After you say something like that, now I won’t be able to sleep either.”
“Me neither.” Qian Wei checked the time — already past one in the morning.
“There’s that nine a.m. class tomorrow — my least favorite, tax law, and there’s supposed to be a case-study quiz too. We can’t just stay up all night like this!” she muttered, then suddenly had an idea and offered, quite sincerely, “How about this — let’s recite some statutes together? Whenever I read or memorize legal provisions, I’m out cold within half an hour, guaranteed.”
“…”
Lu Xun paused, then finally said, “I’ll sing you a lullaby instead.”
There was a rare trace of shyness in his voice as he began to hum, softly, a slow and gentle melody. Meant to be soothing, it only left Qian Wei more wide awake than ever — the deep of night seemed to sharpen every sense, and Lu Xun’s voice, the faint tremor at the tip of his tongue, the rise and fall of the lullaby’s rhythm, all left her feeling like there was a small flame flickering inside her chest, warm and alive. His voice had a porcelain-smooth quality to it — cool to the touch on the surface, and yet somehow, held close, it seemed to carry its own gentle warmth, comfortable and just right.
When the song ended, Qian Wei was even more awake than before, because she’d suddenly noticed something off…
“Didn’t you say you can’t carry a tune?”
“I lied.” Lu Xun admitted it with remarkable shamelessness. He thought for a moment, then amended, “Well, technically it’s not really a lie — whether I’m off-key or not depends who I’m singing to. Around Mo Zixin, I was definitely off-key.”
“So you’re actually good at badminton too?”
“Mm.”
“Tennis?”
“That too.”
“Wait — what about tango???” Qian Wei suddenly remembered something. “You’re actually really good at tango too, aren’t you?”
Lu Xun, apparently answering on autopilot, let out an unthinking “Mm” before he could stop himself.
“So this whole time I’ve been so kindly offering to be your practice partner, and actually your technique was better than mine all along?” Qian Wei, a bit slow to catch on, finally connected the dots. “Lu Xun! All those times you claimed you kept messing up those basic hold positions in tango — that was all a lie too?!”
Lu Xun changed the subject with impressive speed. “Don’t you have that tax law quiz tomorrow morning? I really think you should get some sleep, Qian Wei.” As if trying to head off further accusations, he wrapped things up quickly. “Good night, then.”
But before he could hang up, Qian Wei called out to stop him, right before he could say good night.
“Lu Xun.”
“Mm?”
“I’ll always belong to you, and only you.”
The moment the words were out, without waiting for his reaction, Qian Wei hung up in a rush, her face burning red. But somehow, having said it, she felt only a deep sense of calm and lightness inside, and fell asleep almost instantly — while on the other end of the line, Lu Xun found himself completely, hopelessly unable to sleep at all.