“Are you from Beijing?” the girl asked casually, looking down as she stepped on the red brick squares on the ground.

“I was born in Beijing,” he nodded, reaching out to gently tug at her arm, avoiding an oncoming male student on a bicycle.

“What about you?” Zhao Pingjin asked her.

“Zhejiang.”

“Where in Zhejiang?”

“Taizhou.”

“What do you do?”

“I work at a software technology company.”

Huang Xitang stopped at the entrance of the girls’ dormitory building and took out her access card. “I’m going up now.”

Zhao Pingjin stood with his hands in his pockets and nodded when he heard this, his expression relaxed, a thin smile at the corner of his lips.

Huang Xitang ran up a couple of steps on the stairs, then turned back to wave at him. In the night, her small luminous face was visible, glowing. She smiled and ran “dong dong dong” into the hallway.

Zhao Pingjin stood there for a while, then walked toward the parking area on the north side of the apartment building.

He had been coming to their school for over a week, and finally, she had let down her guard a little bit. On the way back to her dormitory, she was willing to chat with him for a while.

They weren’t doing anything special. Usually, he would finish work, and drive from Zhongguancun to the Film Academy. Fortunately, it wasn’t far, just a turn from Zhichun Road and he’d be there. Then he would arrive just in time for the end of her rehearsal class, or find her doing homework in the teaching building. He would wait for her a while, walk her back to the dormitory, and then drive away himself.

He found it quite interesting.

Waiting for a girl for an hour at the teaching building, just to see her for a while after work every day.

He had never imagined before that something like this would happen to him.

The last time Zhao Pingjin had seen Huang Xitang at the Chang’an Club was more than a month ago. The next day, he had found her at the school and asked her out for a meal, but she flatly refused him. Then there was a long period when they didn’t see each other, and Zhao Pingjin basically forgot about Xitang.

At that time, he was young and restless, with plenty of beautiful girls around him and various ways to have fun. He didn’t need to make things difficult for himself by getting tangled up with a slippery little girl who was like a loach.

He saw her again in May.

It was a summer evening, with a heavy rainstorm. Zhao Pingjin and a few buddies took some girls to the Workers’ Stadium to see a concert. At the entrance of the stadium, he saw two girls holding umbrellas, wearing raincoats, standing on the steps outside the venue, loudly asking people coming to stay: “Raincoats, glow sticks, need raincoats?” The girls around Zhao Pingjin crowded around with interest to look. The glow sticks were ten yuan each, and the raincoats had their prices jacked up to fifty yuan.

As the girls began to select items, the men in the group took out their wallets to pay. Zhao Pingjin held an umbrella with a girl nestling beside him who pouted: “Brother…” Zhao Pingjin paid no attention to the person beside him at all. His eyes were fixed on the girl next to Zhong Qiao’er, a tiny figure wearing a fluorescent yellow raincoat that covered her completely, revealing only a face as pure as a camellia.

Zhong Qiao’er turned around and gently pushed Huang Xitang.

Huang Xitang turned around and met his eyes.

As soon as Zhao Pingjin recognized her, he smiled: “Oh, isn’t this the student from the Film Academy? Why have you switched to selling small goods?” Xitang couldn’t immediately recall who he was, only seeing a handsome man, tall, thin, with white skin and a straight nose, holding a large umbrella with a pretty girl nestling beside him.

The image of a young master riding fine horses in fancy clothes in the capital city.

Zhao Pingjin said: “How many do you have left? I’ll just buy them all.”

Zhong Qiao’er heard and happily responded: “Great! We’re about to be drenched!”

Huang Xitang quickly pulled Zhong Qiao’er away.

At this moment, one of Zhao Pingjin’s friends pushed his shoulder, and the group headed toward the inner passage of the stadium.

A layer of protective film was laid on the grass, with rows of plastic chairs on top that were soaking wet. The audience entering the inner field huddled in the passage to avoid the rain for a while. As the rain gradually stopped, the audience entered in succession, and the musicians on stage began to tune their instruments.

The group found their seats and sat down.

Zhao Pingjin sat in his chair, dazed for a couple of seconds, then suddenly stood up and reached out to tap Qian Donglin beside him: “I’m going out.”

Qian Donglin didn’t understand: “Where to?” Zhao Pingjin pointed to the exit and walked straight out.

“Hey, Zhouzi! You’re not watching anymore?” Qian Donglin stood up, only managing to call out once, “We went to such trouble to get these tickets!” Zhao Pingjin waved his hand with his back to him and walked away stylishly.

By now, there were fewer people outside, with just a few scalpers wandering around. Zhao Pingjin strolled around the outer perimeter of the stadium entrance and finally found the small figure in the yellow raincoat.

She was bending over, walking down the steps one by one, picking up dropped glow sticks, mineral water bottles, paper scraps, and other items one by one.

The entrance to the stadium had a wide and long staircase. The heavy rain had washed away all the dust, and the audience and vendors had left quite a bit of garbage. Before long, Huang Xitang’s hands were full, and she ran quickly toward the venue entrance.

Zhao Pingjin followed her silhouette and saw a frail elderly scavenger on the grass not far away. At this moment, music and screams erupted from the stadium behind him—the singer had taken the stage.

Zhao Pingjin stood in the passage of the stadium’s inner field, watching the small figure in yellow going back and forth, trip after trip, picking up mineral water bottles, and then trip after trip, stuffing them into the woven bag carried by the old person. She bounced up and down on the steps, swaying her body to the music. The rhythmic dance music from the stadium drifted out, and she stood on the steps facing the empty square and shouted: “Oh oh oh oh!” Zhong Qiao’er squatted on the steps beside her, with a package of leftover goods next to her, drinking water and resting. Seeing this, she laughed so hard she nearly fell over, put her fingers to her lips and blew a crisp whistle, then screamed: “Idol, I love you!”

But Huang Xitang suddenly turned around energetically, looking at Zhong Qiao’er: “Qiao’er, how do you whistle like that? Can you teach me?”

The next day, Zhao Pingjin went to the Film Academy to find her after work.

Xitang had just come downstairs, carrying a large black canvas backpack. When she saw him, she waved her hand and said “Hi” without much expression.

Zhao Pingjin followed her out: “Where are you going?” Xitang squatted in front of the small supermarket’s glass window: “I’m going to the study room to do homework.”

Xitang swiped her meal card and bought a sandwich.

Zhao Pingjin said: “I’ll help you with your homework if you can buy me a sandwich?”

Xitang bought him one, along with a bottle of milk: “Thank you for sending us back yesterday.”

The two ate their sandwiches at the entrance of the library. Xitang drank water, Zhao Pingjin drank milk.

Xitang threw the wrapping paper into a nearby trash bin and wiped her hands: “Once you’ve finished eating, you should go back. The study room is so boring.”

She still took him for the kind of young master who indulged in sensual pleasures.

Zhao Pingjin held the milk carton and smiled at her: “Let’s see.”

The two sat side by side in the last row of seats. Zhao Pingjin watched as Huang Xitang took out notebooks, a pencil case, and a Chinese-English dictionary from her bag. She opened her notebook, and Zhao Pingjin looked at it—it was an English biography of a person. She had already typed a draft, but each paragraph still had a few empty words.

Zhao Pingjin quickly scanned through it. Just as Xitang had opened her dictionary, Zhao Pingjin had already reached for her notebook, took a pen, and filled in all the empty words.

He looked and wrote at the same time, and also underlined some sentences: “The places where I’ve underlined, revise them.”

Xitang looked and said quietly: “Thank you.”

Xitang opened a new blank page. Zhao Pingjin asked puzzledly: “Why are you doing two assignments by yourself?”

That night, Zhao Pingjin helped her finish Zhong Qiao’er’s assignment. Xitang revised her own, and Zhao Pingjin said: “Want to look at it again?” Xitang quickly said: “No need, no need, it’s written too well, doesn’t match the basic level.”

One night, Zhao Pingjin accompanied Huang Xitang out of the teaching building. He had his hands in his pockets, maintaining a slight distance from her, keeping very good manners. He said to Xitang: “That classmate of yours seems to be dating one of my old friends.”

“Qiao’er?” Xitang said matter-of-factly, “Qiao’er changes boyfriends very quickly.”

“Why haven’t I seen you at the Chang’an Club again?”

“That time, Zhong Qiao’er called me up last minute.”

“What are you usually busy with?”

“Classes, part-time jobs, auditioning for work.”

“What kind of work?”

“Acting.”

Later, Zhao Pingjin came more often. One night, Huang Xitang asked him: “Haven’t you finished relaxing?” Zhao Pingjin had told her before that dating a beautiful girl was just relaxation.

“I’m not relaxing anymore.”

“Then why do you still come so often?”

“Miss Huang, I’m pursuing you.”

One day in June, Zhao Pingjin went to her school to find her but couldn’t.

Fortunately, Xitang answered his call: “We’re on summer break.”

Zhao Pingjin drove to where she worked, a boutique coffee shop near Xisi. He went in, ordered a drink, and worked while waiting for her to get off work. By the time Xitang changed out of her uniform and walked to his table with her backpack, he checked his watch—public transportation had already stopped running at this hour.

“How are you getting back to school?”

“By bicycle.”

“You’re riding from Wenhuiqiao to Xishangcheng?” Xitang smiled and said: “My cycling skills are super awesome, it’s like training and body sculpting.”

Zhao Pingjin took her hand and walked to the parking spot in front of the coffee shop. He placed his laptop bag on the back seat: “Get on.”

The next evening, Zhao Pingjin called her.

“Are you working tonight?”

“What’s up?”

“I have something to do tonight. Can you take a taxi back? I’ll reimburse you. I’ll pick you up tomorrow night.”

Xitang didn’t answer him, just smiled: “What are you doing tonight?”

Zhao Pingjin held the phone with his arm and took the cotton swab handed to him by the nurse: “I’m working overtime at the company.”

At that moment, a child was placed on the triage desk. As soon as the nurse inserted the IV needle, the child instantly burst into loud crying. The young mother next to them panicked and tried to hold the child, and the nurse anxiously shouted: “Hey, family member, hold them down, hold them down!” Zhao Pingjin was instantly dumbfounded.

Xitang heard it on the other end and took several seconds to react: “Comrade Zhao, confession leads to leniency.”

Zhao Pingjin had to answer.

Xitang was stunned for a moment and said: “You don’t eat outside food?”

Xitang found him in the emergency room of Zhongguancun Hospital. He was alone receiving an IV drip in the infusion room. Xitang asked: “Where is your family?”

Zhao Pingjin said: “My younger brother sent me here. Once I’m done, I can go back by myself.”

Xitang sat down in the empty seat beside him.

Zhao Pingjin looked at her. She had makeup on, with pink lips, looking quite cute: “Where did you come from?”

“Beijing Film Studio.” Xitang took out wet wipes and wiped off some of her makeup.

“What were you doing there?”

“Looking for work.”

“You’re not going to the coffee shop tonight?” Xitang shrugged and said: “I was fired yesterday.”

Zhao Pingjin was somewhat surprised. He hadn’t noticed anything last night: “Why?”

“A customer’s order, I wrote it wrong, then I got a complaint.” Huang Xitang stuck out her tongue and made a face.

“Why didn’t you say anything last night?”

“What’s there to say? Being clumsy is embarrassing.”

Zhao Pingjin realized then that she was a sensitive girl.

Xitang, bored, took a tour around the emergency hall and came back with a bottle of mineral water for him. Then she picked up his medical record and looked at it. She suddenly said: “Your stomach isn’t good. I shouldn’t have let you join me for late-night snacks yesterday.”

It was already past eleven at night when the two left the hospital.

Zhao Pingjin hailed a taxi on the roadside: “I’ll go back to get my car and come pick you up to take you back to school.”

Xitang went back to his company with him.

It was a mixed residential and commercial complex, not very new. The neighborhood had a strong living atmosphere, with a row of businesses on the ground floor including English training institutions, courier companies, and various noodle shops and snack bars. Zhao Pingjin took her upstairs and opened the door to reveal a spacious living room with a long, wide table in the middle. On both sides were rows of computers, and in the southern corner was a two-seater sofa, along with a printer and file cabinets—the standard look of an office, except for a row of neatly arranged beer cans in the corner of the floor-to-ceiling window.

A gentle-looking man with glasses sat behind a computer.

Hearing the door open, Shen Min looked up and suddenly froze. The girl behind Zhao Pingjin had young, glowing skin and a beautiful smile that revealed teeth like white shells. Now he could see clearly that she was indeed a beauty.

Beautiful as she was, he dared not forget how she had beaten him black and blue.

Zhao Pingjin smiled and introduced: “This is Shen Min, you’ve met him before.”

Xitang looked completely puzzled, with no recollection: “When?”

Shen Min’s face turned all colors of the rainbow in anger.

Zhao Pingjin was laughing so hard his stomach hurt.

After a while, Shen Min finally regained his composure and pulled out a stack of documents from the folder in front of him: “The Lianshang system, Li Ming ran it once this afternoon and found that there seems to be a problem here.”

Zhao Pingjin glanced at it, sat down at the computer, and said: “Xiao Min, take Xitang back to school.”

Shen Min hesitated for two seconds and said: “If I’m not here, who will test what you write later?”

Zhao Pingjin said: “I’ll do it myself.”

Shen Min didn’t quite agree: “You should get some sleep tonight.”

Zhao Pingjin’s hands were quickly typing on the keyboard. Upon hearing this, he calmly pressed the space bar once and turned his head to look at Shen Min. Xitang quickly spoke up: “If it doesn’t bother you guys, I can stay here for a while and go back in the morning by myself.”

Zhao Pingjin got up and led her to a room inside, turning on the desk lamp for her: “If you get tired, just sleep for a while.”

Xitang looked around. It was a small room with a bed in the corner, with clean gray-blue checkered bed sheets and covers, a desk, and a cabinet.

By the window across from her was a chair with a blue shirt casually draped over the back.

All night, there was the faint sound of keyboard typing from the living room, along with the low conversation between Zhao Pingjin and Shen Min.

The next morning when Xitang woke up, she saw that the lights in the spacious living room had been turned off. The curtains on the balcony’s floor-to-ceiling windows were drawn tight, making the living room dim. The blue light on the computer host was still faintly flickering. The door of another room was half-closed, and Zhao Pingjin was asleep on the sofa.

Xitang picked up her backpack and quietly left.

Having finally caught Zhong Qiao’er back at the dormitory, Xitang asked her for advice.

As soon as Zhong Qiao’er heard her mention Zhao Pingjin: “Son of an official family, I guess? Don’t know exactly what he does. Lao Gao seems to be quite familiar with him. I’ve seen him a few times.”

Zhong Qiao’er lit a cigarette: “Do you like him?” Xitang nodded.

“Makes sense, with that handsome face, what girl wouldn’t love it?” Qiao’er blew out a smoke ring, squinting her eyes and smiling at her through the hazy smoke.

Xitang suddenly blushed: “It’s not just—” Zhong Qiao’er laughed: “You’re just too innocent.”

Zhong Qiao’er didn’t take it seriously: “Just date him, Xitang. Act cute, and you won’t have to work hard to earn your senior year tuition.”

Xitang bit her lip: “I don’t want to date him for this reason.”

“What else do you want? Fall in love, marry him, have children?” Xitang couldn’t find the words.

“People like them won’t marry people like us.”

At this moment, the dormitory door was pushed open and Wang Linglong walked in. She looked at the two of them and frowned: “Hey, Qiao’er, can you not smoke in the dormitory?” Zhong Qiao’er raised an eyebrow and extinguished her cigarette.

Just then, Qiao’er’s phone rang. She looked at it, silenced it, and got up from her chair. She put her arm around Xitang’s neck and said softly: “Dating is fine, but don’t take it too seriously, and also, be sensible, don’t inquire about their identity and background.”

Recently, Xitang joined a film crew, playing a maid in the background of a historical drama. She had no lines, but the number of episodes to be filmed was decent. She called her mother and said she would go back after finishing this drama.

If there were no night scenes, she could finish work around eight in the evening and return to school, where the dormitory was empty. He hadn’t appeared for a week since she had returned from his place.

That night, Xitang came out of the subway station and received a call from Zhao Pingjin. “Where are you?” The sound of howling wind came through the phone.

“In the subway station.” It was too noisy around her, and Xitang heard his voice faintly. She hung her bag over her shoulder and ran up the stairs, reaching the ground level in one breath. She leaned on her knees, panting heavily, “Where are you?”

“I’m not in Beijing right now.” Zhao Pingjin suddenly sounded a bit happy on the other end.

Zhao Pingjin had just started his business venture not long ago and was busy. Some basic-level projects would take one or two months, and the company had to regularly send people to oversee them.

Xitang slowly walked along the sidewalk toward school, chatting with him as she walked.

Zhao Pingjin asked: “Do you miss me?” Even through the phone, Xitang could imagine his sly, shameless expression: “How can you be so narcissistic?”

Zhao Pingjin sighed and said: “I miss you a lot.”

“This shabby place, I have to walk two li to get a signal, but hey, the stars are nice.”

Xitang said: “Go ahead and joke all you want.”

One night, Zhao Pingjin asked her: “If you don’t like me, why did you sew my button back on?” That day, he was moving some large boxes of files at the company and scraped off a button from the front of his shirt. He picked up the button and casually placed it in his room.

Xitang lied with a straight face: “I deal with costumes and makeup every day, it’s an occupational habit.”

Zhao Pingjin laughed on the other end. When he laughed, his deep voice was particularly pleasant to hear. Xitang only heard a bewitching voice: “Huang Xitang, can’t you be a little more honest with your own heart?”

Xitang finally said: “A little bit.”

“Girl, your brother is back, downstairs at your dormitory.”

Xitang hung up the phone and ran downstairs in her slippers, making pattering sounds. Zhao Pingjin stood at the entrance of the apartment building hallway, watching her bounce over to him. His face showed a slight smile as he reached out to brush her hair.

Xitang looked up at him, her head feeling dizzy. He wore a gray T-shirt and a thin khaki jacket and was slightly tanned. He looked so handsome.

He handed her several boxes he was carrying: “These are for you. I just came from the airport. Come back with me to change clothes, then I’ll take you out to eat.”

Xitang was wearing shorts, and as she spoke, she playfully stood on her tiptoes. Her legs were straight and white. Out of politeness, Zhao Pingjin didn’t dare to look down, only hearing her say: “I’ll go upstairs to put on shoes, wait a moment.”

Zhao Pingjin nodded and pointed behind him: “Meet me at the north parking lot later, I’m still occupying the bicycle lane.”

Xitang stretched her neck to look down, and indeed, his car was parked on the small path below the steps. She turned and ran back upstairs.

Zhao Pingjin drove her back to his company. He took down a 26-inch suitcase from the car, while she carried his work laptop for him. Zhao Pingjin opened the door, and a choking smell mixed with thick smoke wafted out. Zhao Pingjin immediately frowned: “What’s that smell?” He quickly scanned the room—everything in the living room was normal, but several people were gathered around the kitchen door, with the choking smell coming from the kitchen.

Li Ming turned around and saw him: “Hey, Zhouzi, you’re back.”

Zhao Pingjin glanced over: “Did Lao Guo set the kitchen on fire again?” Guo Tianjun was in the kitchen, not noticing the outside. He threw a burnt pot into the sink with a clang and turned on the faucet with a “whoosh.”

Li Ming peeked in again: “Hey, Lao Guo, you couldn’t even remember to order takeout, how shameless!”

Guo Tianjun yanked off a roll of kitchen paper: “You have such a good memory, since you remembered, why didn’t you order it yourself?”

Xitang later discovered that when these people worked, they forgot to eat and sleep.

The two young men walked out of the kitchen dejected. Xitang, following behind Zhao Pingjin, had been watching for a while when she suddenly asked: “What were you trying to cook just now?”

Ten minutes later, everyone at the dining table had a steaming bowl of noodle soup in front of them. Li Ming praised endlessly: “Xitang, please come more often.”

Xitang smiled good-naturedly.

Zhao Pingjin held his chopsticks, displeased: “Don’t count on her to cook. Today was purely accidental. I’ve been saying we should find a housekeeper.”

Li Ming glanced at him: “Don’t talk about us, you’re the most unreliable. You stay up late every night. Your housekeeper doesn’t cook during the day, so will she come at midnight to cook for you?”

By the time they finished eating the noodles, it was already past two in the afternoon. The whole house had quieted down. Guo Tianjun had gone to sleep, Li Ming was playing games with headphones on in the living room. The group was used to being active at night and sleeping during the day. Xitang followed Zhao Pingjin into his room, and they sat on the floor chatting.

Zhao Pingjin leaned against the bed with his legs stretched out, reaching out to wrap his arm around Xitang’s shoulders. Xitang’s head rested on his arm, her body nestled in his embrace. When Zhao Pingjin lowered his head, he could see a small whorl at the top of her fuzzy head.

“Now that you’re on break, what have you been doing lately?”

“I’ve been doing odd jobs in a film crew.”

“Do you plan to act in the future?”

“Yes, I just really love acting.”

Zhao Pingjin’s expression was mild: “Acting is good.”

Xitang understood his meaning perfectly and looked at him with a smile: “You think it’s unreliable, don’t you?”

Zhao Pingjin wasn’t surprised; he understood her intelligence: “Not really, it’s just that in this industry, luck plays a big part.”

Xitang said: “I don’t expect to become a big star. I just really like working in a film crew. Although it looks chaotic, everyone has very clear roles. One second they might be noisy and quarrelsome, and the next second when the slate is clapped, the entire set instantly falls silent, and then the actors begin to get into character. That moment feels especially magical.”

Zhao Pingjin listened seriously and said after a while: “One of these days, I’ll see if there are any suitable roles in recent productions.”

Xitang smiled slightly without saying anything. She was certainly not the first art school girl Zhao Pingjin had dated. They understood what these girls needed. Qiao’er had made her way through connections like this. Qiao’er had already acted in several TV dramas, with her best role being the third female lead. She knew many producers and directors, and recently quite a few people had approached her. She also remembered Xitang, and whenever a role was available, she would try to help Xitang.

Xitang asked: “How many people are in your company?”

“Just the ones you’ve met. Lao Guo and I were undergraduate classmates. Li Ming was one year below us. Lao Guo’s girlfriend quit her job in the first half of the year to help out. These past few days, Xiao Min has been watching the office for me outside.”

“What?”

“Moving to an office building.”

“Is Shen Min your real brother?” Zhao Pingjin saw her suspicious look: “What are you thinking? He’s a child my grandfather adopted. His parents passed away when he was very young.”

That afternoon, they chatted for quite a while. Later in the afternoon, they both grew drowsy. Zhao Pingjin held her in his arms, and then they kissed.

That day, everything that was meant to happen, happened.

Xitang’s first kiss and first time occurred simultaneously. Zhao Pingjin carried her to the bed, kissing her earlobes and neck. When his fingers unbuttoned her dress, she felt only a little nervous, thinking that everything was flowing naturally, like an icy river melting in spring, with streams flowing gently and wild cherries blooming at the stream’s head. Everything was destined to happen. She liked him, and she was willing to give herself to him.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I’m just a little afraid.”

“Don’t be afraid, I’ll be good to you.”

“Xitang, be with me.”

A month later, Xitang owned her first property in Beijing, with a car parked in the garage—a white sports car.

Everything came too quickly.

She wasn’t hearing such stories for the first time, but when the story happened to her, she was still secretly shocked.

After her senior year began, Xitang spent most of her time filming. She moved out of school to live on her own. Zhao Pingjin would sometimes return to their new home in Jiayuan with her when they had time off, but the place where she accompanied him most was Jingchuang’s house in Zhongguancun. The house was purchased by Zhao Pingjin before he went abroad. After Shen Min graduated, he continued his graduate studies in Beijing, so Zhao Pingjin left the house for Shen Min to live in. Later, when Zhao Pingjin returned to China to start his business, he found Guo Tianjun, with whom he used to play soccer at Tsinghua. Guo Tianjun had worked in the finance department of a state-owned enterprise in Beijing for three years after graduating from Tsinghua University. By the time Zhao Pingjin found him, his salary had increased from 6,000 yuan to 6,500 yuan. Guo Tianjun understood his career prospects—state-owned enterprise positions were stable but with few opportunities for promotion. He came from an ordinary background, his parents were ordinary workers in a small northeastern city, and his girlfriend had been with him for five years, yet they could still only afford to rent. If they both continued working like this, perhaps in ten years they could save enough to buy a two-bedroom apartment in Tongzhou, then spend two hours each day commuting by subway. Guo Tianjun spent three sleepless nights considering before resolutely deciding to resign and start a business. Li Ming didn’t need to be mentioned; he was Zhao Pingjin’s childhood friend. Jingchuang’s early founders were just these four—the biggest investor was Zhao Pingjin, Li Ming managed overall operations, Zhao Pingjin handled technology, Shen Min handled administration and assisted Zhao Pingjin with programming, and Guo Tianjun managed finances. Later, as they took on more projects and couldn’t keep up, Guo Tianjun’s girlfriend Cheng Rong also resigned to join, responsible for human resources and secretarial work. Many of Jingchuang’s initial projects and plans were conceived in the living room of that house.

That afternoon, the two emerged from the room in the early evening. When Zhao Pingjin sent Xitang back to school, he gave her his key: “Come back after filming tomorrow.”

Xitang knew that Zhao Pingjin was treating her as one of his own.

The next day, when Xitang returned to Jingchuang after filming, it was past six. Guo Tianjun came in to wake him up: “Zhouzi, get up.” In the past, everyone often slept at the company. In the three-bedroom apartment, the living room was used as an office, one study was used to store materials, Shen Min’s room became a communal sleeping area, and Zhao Pingjin’s room was relatively small. Sometimes when he was tired, he would sleep there for a while.

It was after working with them at Jingchuang that Xitang discovered Zhao Pingjin had a bad stomach. Sometimes after working late for many nights, he would get stomach pains at night. For this reason, she thought for a long time, reluctant to have him insist on sending her back to school every night no matter how tired he was, and finally decided to move out and live together.

Besides making noodles, Xitang didn’t know how to cook much, because her mother had always taken good care of her. In her senior year, to take care of Zhao Pingjin, she began to learn how to make congee and brew soups. At midnight, she would cook a big pot of tomato and egg instant noodles, and the men would gather around the small tea table in the living room, laughing and talking amidst the rising steam.

In the second semester of her senior year, Xitang joined the crew to film “Orange Youth.” After the film started shooting, to get into character quickly, Xitang often stayed with the crew to rehearse with her co-actors, sometimes returning only once a week. Each time she returned to Jingchuang, Zhao Pingjin would be sitting at the computer working. When he saw her come through the door, he would stop what he was doing and gaze at her expectantly, waiting for her to walk to his side, lovingly hold him in her arms, and reach out to ruffle his short black hair.

Li Ming sat across from Zhao Pingjin: “Oh baby, if you hadn’t come back, someone would have died.”

Zhao Pingjin pressed his face against Xitang’s embrace and said: “Get lost.”

Cheng Rong said to Xitang: “You two have such a good relationship. I’ve never seen Zhouzhou be so nice to anyone.”

One morning, Zhao Pingjin and Li Ming went out to sign an important contract. Xitang happened to be off work and came to Jingchuang to make coffee and chat with Cheng Rong.

Xitang smiled and said: “We haven’t been together for long. You and Brother Jun are the ones who are good, being together for so many years with a stable relationship.”

Cheng Rong pinched her spoon: “Who knows what will happen in the future.”

Everyone had their worries. She had her difficulties too. Her relationship with Zhao Pingjin wasn’t so perfect and flawless.

Their worst fight was last winter, not long after they had just started dating. The two were so happy that they could barely stand to be apart. Zhao Pingjin would hold her hand under the table even when they ate at restaurants. Halfway through the meal, Xitang saw him answer a call, saying: “Grandfather.”

Zhao Pingjin glanced at her and got up to take the call outside. He often avoided taking calls in front of her. She knew that the calls he would take any time, anywhere were not from girls but from his family, often elders concerned about him.

As he walked outside, Xitang heard him say: “I’m having dinner with friends.”

Two minutes later, Zhao Pingjin returned. Xitang kept her head down, silent.

Zhao Pingjin didn’t notice her change in mood and reached out to lift her chin: “What’s up? Not eating?”

Xitang looked up at him: “Who is your ‘friend’?”

Zhao Pingjin realized and his smile remained faint: “I’m right beside you, yet didn’t you tell your mom you were with classmates?”

“I haven’t graduated yet.”

“Huang Xitang, this doesn’t have much to do with whether you’ve graduated or not, does it?”

“Zhao Pingjin,” Xitang suddenly looked at him stubbornly and took out her phone to dial, “I’ll call my mom right now.”

Zhao Pingjin was stunned for a moment and reached out to stop her hand: “Don’t make a scene. Can we just eat properly?”

Xitang said angrily: “What are you afraid of?”

Zhao Pingjin’s expression cooled: “Huang Xitang, don’t be insolent because I indulge you.”

Xitang gave a cold laugh, threw down her napkin, and ran out.

Zhao Pingjin paid the bill and chased after her. On the winter night at Sanlitun, the streets were lined with brilliantly lit trees and flashing neon lights. Young men and women in down coats, carrying bottles of wine, passed by laughing. Zhao Pingjin stood at the entrance of the restaurant looking in both directions but couldn’t see her figure.

Zhao Pingjin called her, but she didn’t answer. He walked around several streets near the restaurant but couldn’t find her. He drove back to their home in Jiayuan, but she wasn’t there either. She no longer lived in the school dormitory and had nowhere else to go in Beijing.

He sent a message to Xitang’s phone: I’m waiting for you downstairs at home until you come back.

Xitang stood in the brightly lit Taikoo Li mall, saw the message on her phone, and remembered Qiao’er’s advice. She knew she had been unreasonable. He had always kept her by his side, taken her to meet friends and childhood friends, never depriving her of any fun, yet she had never truly touched the intimate relationships in his life—his family, his parents. He possessed a much deeper background than she could imagine.

She walked along the north side of the Workers’ Stadium for more than two hours, then took a taxi home. It was past two in the morning, and Zhao Pingjin was still waiting downstairs.

When he saw her, he said nothing, just pulled her into his coat, took his hands out of his pockets to cover her ears: “Are you frozen?”

That was the first time they had such a fierce argument after the relaxed and sweet beginning of their relationship, which began to seem fraught with crisis as the two fell deeper. But they quickly reconciled. From then on, Xitang never mentioned sensitive topics about him again. She loved him too much at that time, loved him to the point that she could overlook anything just to be with him.

In their second year together, for Zhao Pingjin’s birthday, Xitang wanted to give him a special gift.

His birthday was in autumn.

She had started preparing in spring.

Before graduation, Xitang found a junior from the photography department, and the junior followed her with a camera, filming intermittently for about a week. Xitang did the post-production herself, editing it into a short film of about five minutes.

For many years, Zhao Pingjin’s birthday schedule had been roughly the same. If he was in Beijing, he would generally meet up with childhood friends and other friends on the weekend before his birthday. Having lived in Beijing for many years, he had many social and personal connections, so his birthday couldn’t be too casual. By then, Xitang had been dating him for more than a year, and she had become quite familiar with his childhood friends. At that time, Zhao Pingjin doted on her, and everyone regarded her highly. Zhao Pingjin booked a club, and Xitang was responsible for the venue decoration plan. The entire venue was decorated with blue as the main color, creating an effect that was both beautiful and grand. That night, naturally, both hosts and guests were thoroughly enjoying themselves. After dinner, everyone inside was having a great time.

Close to midnight, Xitang went out to check on the cake. When she returned, she winked at Ouyang Qingqing, who understood immediately, went over, and pulled Zhao Pingjin away from the card table, making him stand in the center of the room.

Shen Min turned off the lights, and people screamed in the darkness.

At this moment, a huge screen on the wall lit up, and music began to play.

The room gradually quieted down.

Li Ming stood at the computer next to the screen, holding a microphone and smiling: “Zhouzi, before midnight, the last birthday gift, watch carefully.”

The film began playing on the big screen—Beijing in spring, green trees and pink flowers like a sea, the swaying willow catkins by the red walls of the ancient palace, the misty skyscrapers of Guomao like a mirage of countless buildings. The screen quickly switched between different smiling faces.

In a dance room at the Film Academy, a girl from the dance department doing a split, with a cool, aloof face; on the lawn at Tsinghua, a young boy with glasses, somewhat shy; in the early morning at Yuan Dynasty Capital Park, an aunt practicing Tai Chi sword, her face full of kindness; in a hutong in the afternoon, a happy child running with a tanghulu (candied fruit skewer).

“Mr. Zhao, happy birthday.”

“Senior, happy birthday.”

“Young Comrade Zhao, happy birthday.”

The faces on the screen slowly became people familiar to Zhao Pingjin—Qian Donglin, Fang Langqi, Lu Xiaojiang, and Shen Min… At the end of the film was Huang Xitang on set. During a filming break, the makeup artist came to touch up her makeup. She turned her face toward the camera, playfully smiling and winking: “Happy birthday.”

The camera moved upward, freezing on the green trees in the brilliant sunlight, then slowly pulled back to become a blurry distant view, and then the screen slowly faded to black. Streamers floated down in the room, and friends began to whistle, mixed with screams and applause. A cake with lit candles was brought in, accompanied by unending admiring exclamations.

“Zhouzhou, where did you find such an adorable girlfriend?”

“Zhouzi, I’m so envious.”

Zhao Pingjin was deeply moved and cupped Xitang’s face, kissing her hard.

It was too noisy around them. Xitang couldn’t hear what Zhao Pingjin was saying, so she had to stand on tiptoe and shout in his ear: “This treatment is just this once, there won’t be more in the future. Just play it once every year from now on.”

When they got home that night, it was past three in the morning. Xitang, exhausted from preparing for his birthday party, collapsed as soon as she got home.

Zhao Pingjin had drunk some alcohol but didn’t feel sleepy. He opened the laptop Xitang had brought back and saw that the file was still open, containing about three gigabytes of footage. Zhao Pingjin saw that she had edited several versions, and he opened them one by one to watch. Some were rough cuts. When he reached the last one, he discovered that this video was twenty-five seconds longer than the version played at the birthday party.

He watched it again and sure enough, after Huang Xitang’s scene ended, the screen went black. He didn’t close it, and then the screen lit up again.

Zhao Pingjin saw the long aerial shot of Beijing in spring again.

Xitang had handwritten a poem and incorporated it into the film. The lines of text in the background appeared section by section.

“I even believe you own the entire universe. “I want to bring you happy flowers from the mountain, bring you bell-shaped flowers, black hazelnuts, and a basket of wild kisses. “I want to treat you as spring treats the cherry tree.”

Zhao Pingjin sat dazed on the sofa for a few seconds, then walked into the bedroom, lay down on the bed, and kissed her deeply.