Once stripped of the “math competition” shell, Jiang Qiaoxi briefly thought he had been reborn.
But alone in his Beijing hotel suite, he realized that besides lounging on the sofa reading math lectures and studying new problems, he had nothing else to do and no interest in anything else.
From birth to growth, if a person’s seventeen years of experiences, thoughts, and ideas are completely guided and controlled by external forces, meticulously shaped step by step, how can they distinguish whether their actions stem from habit or genuine inner choice?
Whenever Jiang Qiaoxi felt this confusion, he would set aside his book, craving a cigarette and a chat with his cousin in Hong Kong. His cousin was a good mentor, understanding Jiang Qiaoxi’s past and current situation, and always trying to help him sort through these complex thoughts. Sometimes he also wanted to call Lin Yingtao. She was a good girl who seemed to always make Jiang Qiaoxi feel a more authentic side of life—something he often struggled to find. It seemed like an innate deficiency, hard to control. Whenever “authenticity” slipped away, just seeing or hearing Yingtao made him feel alive again.
Unable to smoke in the hotel room, Jiang Qiaoxi started eating the snacks Lin Yingtao had packed for him yesterday.
“Did you go to her aunt’s place?” his cousin asked.
Jiang Qiaoxi opened the fridge for water, briefly recounting last night’s events, mentioning the house Lin Yingtao’s aunt had bought.
His cousin laughed, “Hong Kong’s average housing prices are now around 50,000 HKD. For Beijing, the capital, 10,000 isn’t bad at all.”
Jiang Qiaoxi gulped down the water, planning to tell Lin Yingtao this when they went to Wangfujing in the afternoon.
“When are you coming to Hong Kong?” his cousin asked.
“Haven’t decided yet,” Jiang Qiaoxi replied.
His cousin probed, “You still… want to take her to Berkeley with you?”
Jiang Qiaoxi remained silent. His cousin continued, “Qiaoxi, girls are perceptive creatures. They understand what you’re thinking. If she hasn’t responded proactively, it might mean—”
“I’ll ask her directly this afternoon,” Jiang Qiaoxi said decisively.
His cousin hummed in acknowledgment, likely understanding his genius younger cousin’s stubborn nature.
“Qiaoxi, you mentioned last time,” he pondered, “that this little Lin girl is quite attached to her home?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I still want to advise you,” his cousin said, “even if she agrees, don’t take her with you.”
“Why not?”
“Even those who aren’t homesick will miss home in America,” his cousin explained. “Once you’re there, you’ll understand.”
At thirteen or fourteen, an age full of fantasies and daydreams, Geng Xiaoqing had heard many exciting and thrilling stories from Lin Qile. The protagonists were several boys she had never met but felt she knew intimately. She had never experienced such adventures, like those in Japanese manga. Of course, these stories inevitably contained romantic elements. For instance, Geng Xiaoqing had always liked Mitsui Hisashi, and Yu Qiao could sing “Until the End of the World.” They had never met, yet Yu Qiao had told Lin Yingtao early on that he might marry Mrs. Geng in the future.
Geng Xiaoqing once believed that her destined encounter with Yu Qiao would be an unforgettable moment in her life. She stood beside Lin Qile, looking up at him. Long ago, Geng Xiaoqing had seen Yu Qiao in photos from the city’s high school basketball league. She knew what he looked like, but he had never had the chance to see her.
But a minute passed, then two… Yu Qiao looked up, seeming impatient. Lin Qile was still happily telling Geng Xiaoqing about the Olympic beach volleyball experience center at Chaoyang Park, which had just opened recently. She asked Geng Xiaoqing if she wanted to go together: “What are you Second High students doing next?”
Cai Fangyuan complained, “Lin Yingtao, do you know how far Chaoyang Park is?”
Lin Qile turned and said, “We’re already here!”
Geng Xiaoqing saw that Yu Qiao still looked impatient, but at that moment, he turned away from them and couldn’t help but smile.
Beihang University also had outdoor volleyball courts. Du Shang went to deliver water to his girlfriend in Class 15’s group, and when he came back, he said, “Yingtao, you can go in and play! I asked, and they said it’s okay!”
“Experimental High also has regular volleyball courts…” Lin Qile said gloomily.
Cai Fangyuan retorted, “Just imagine there’s sand, and you’re all set!”
Lin Qile introduced Geng Xiaoqing to Du Shang and Cai Fangyuan, saying she was her middle school classmate and deskmate from Qunshan No. 1 High School: “The one you’ve chatted with on QQ!” At this point, she turned around and realized Yu Qiao had disappeared.
Du Shang said, “He must have gone to see the museum. Doesn’t he want to apply to Beihang?”
Qin Yeyun came running out of the Beihang Museum, grabbing Lin Qile’s fruit juice and taking a sip. “It’s all metal planes in there, fighter jets, helicopters…” Qin Yeyun complained, looking bored. Then she noticed Geng Xiaoqing, “Who are you?”
Lin Qile quickly made introductions again.
Qin Yeyun was surprised to hear Geng Xiaoqing was from Qunshan No. 1 High School, as she looked quite fashionable.
Unlike the one beside her. Qin Yeyun glanced at Lin Yingtao, suddenly noticing something different.
Lin Yingtao hadn’t tied her hair today. Her long, straight black hair was neatly tucked behind her ears, with bangs that had been curled somehow, falling loosely over her eyebrows. She was also wearing a dress, a plaid skirt that didn’t cover her knees, looking like a proper young lady, a typical schoolgirl. But Lin Yingtao was too mischievous; her expressions never stayed still for a minute, making the dress feel like a futile attempt at concealment.
Qin Yeyun hooked her finger into Lin Yingtao’s collar, pulling out the gemstone cherry necklace hidden inside. “Ah…” she suddenly sighed deeply, shaking her head. What a waste.
Geng Xiaoqing discovered that the quickest way to bond with the Experimental High School group was to chat about Lin Yingtao’s past in Qunshan during middle school.
“You’ve been to the Qunshan construction site?” Du Shang sat down in front of her, asking with great interest. “During middle school?”
Geng Xiaoqing nodded: “Yingtao took me there.” She noticed Yu Qiao walking over from the other side of the volleyball court and raised her voice, “The main gate was demolished then, it felt so empty. Yingtao told me that the street right in front of the workers’ club and the big fountain was called ‘Yu Qiao Street’!”
“Called what?” Du Shang heard this and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Yu Qiao Street??”
Yu Qiao heard someone call his name but didn’t understand why Cai Fangyuan and Du Shang were laughing. As he approached, he heard Lin Yingtao’s classmate from another school say, “The Qunshan site didn’t just have ‘Yu Qiao Street’, there were also ‘Du Shang Street’ and ‘Cai Fangyuan Street’.”
Cai Fangyuan was drinking cola nearby, initially with a mocking expression, probably thinking Lin Yingtao was too stupid and childish with her ‘Yu Qiao Street’. Suddenly hearing his name, the smile froze on his face, and he couldn’t quite keep laughing.
Lin Yingtao was playing volleyball with some Beihang students on the outdoor court.
Yu Qiao took a can of cola from Cai Fangyuan and sat down in an empty chair next to Geng Xiaoqing.
“What’s this Yu Qiao Street?” he asked.
Geng Xiaoqing looked up and met his eyes briefly before quickly lowering her gaze. Nervously, she explained that it was the name Yingtao had given to each road in the Qunshan construction site during middle school: “She invited me to her house then and showed me around.”
Yu Qiao asked, “Which one is Yu Qiao Street?”
Geng Xiaoqing replied, “The first big street entering the workers’ dormitory area, the widest main road.”
Du Shang squinted and asked, “Just streets for us three?”
Geng Xiaoqing hesitated.
“That’s right,” Cai Fangyuan laughed, turning back to ask, “No Jiang Qiaoxi?”
“The small road in front of Yingtao’s house,” Geng Xiaoqing said, “I think it was called that.”
Du Shang asked Geng Xiaoqing how Lin Yingtao fared at Qunshan No. 1 High School: “Was anyone bullying her then?”
Geng Xiaoqing shook her head: “No. But at that time… she was quite unhappy. I was her only friend at school. She only talked to me and invited me to her house. At first, she didn’t like studying much and was often criticized by teachers. Then suddenly, for a while, she made many pen pals, received lots of letters, and even skipped class to go to the provincial capital—”
Geng Xiaoqing noticed that Yu Qiao had been watching her the whole time, listening to every word she said.
Jiang Qiaoxi stood at the entrance of Beihang University when he unexpectedly received a text from Cai Fangyuan: “Ask Lin Yingtao what Jiang Qiaoxi Street is.”
He looked up to see Lin Yingtao running towards him from inside the gate.
She was wearing a dress today, something Jiang Qiaoxi had never seen her wear before. It looked a bit like the high school girls he had seen when studying in Hong Kong.
Lin Yingtao was running a bit urgently, her shirt rising and falling on her chest.
“Let’s go eat at Donglaishun!” Lin Yingtao said excitedly.
Jiang Qiaoxi had never experienced shopping with a girl before, and it was also his first time around Beijing’s Wangfujing Street. After finishing their lunch of hot pot, he gently held Lin Yingtao’s hand and started following her around. Lin Yingtao queued at the Olympic counter in the Wangfujing Department Store to buy souvenirs. She wanted to buy commemorative T-shirts, white ones with a red Beijing stamp and the Olympic rings in the center. Lin Yingtao bought one each for her parents, so Jiang Qiaoxi decided to buy one for his cousin too, to show that he also buys things for his brother.
The two youngsters, wearing identical Olympic commemorative T-shirts, wandered through the mall. Lin Yingtao was full of curiosity, wanting to look at everything and pick out various items. Jiang Qiaoxi bought two ice cream cones for them to eat together.
They stopped simultaneously in front of a display window.
In the window, a stunningly beautiful model wore new autumn clothes, donning an exaggeratedly colorful wig.
Jiang Qiaoxi frowned, probably unable to comprehend this fashion style.
“Isn’t this Jiang Chunlu?” he suddenly recalled someone.
Lin Yingtao, eating her ice cream cone carefully to avoid getting it on her nose, giggled, “Who’s Jiang Chunlu?”
Jiang Qiaoxi looked down at her.
“My daughter,” he introduced.
“Nonsense,” Lin Yingtao laughed, her eyes curving into crescents, “she’s my daughter.”
As they walked out of the department store, Lin Yingtao bought an iced milk tea from a street vendor, while Jiang Qiaoxi got an iced Americano. Many students were taking photo booth pictures on the first floor of the mall. Lin Yingtao joined in the fun, dragging Jiang Qiaoxi, who had never done this before, into the booth with her.
As evening approached, Jiang Qiaoxi wanted to visit a foreign language bookstore. At first, Lin Yingtao followed him aimlessly, but later she stood in the Japanese section upstairs, looking at original manga books.
When they left the bookstore, lights had already started to come on. Beijing was about to sink into the night.
More and more tourists filled the streets. Lin Yingtao’s hand was held by Jiang Qiaoxi as if he feared she might get lost. Sometimes she looked up at him, curiously at the passersby.
Suddenly, Jiang Qiaoxi’s arm wrapped around her from behind. A large group of tourists had come from behind, led by a guide, and Lin Yingtao had almost been swept up in their midst.
Lin Yingtao wondered what Jiang Qiaoxi was thinking.
He would naturally hold her hand, casually embrace her, send daily text messages, make phone calls, chat about plans, and even kiss her on the lips. Would he confess to her? At a moment like this, when she had dressed up for him, would he say the next second, “Lin Yingtao, will you be my girlfriend?” Or, “Will you wait for me in China for four years?”
Lin Yingtao listened to the footsteps around her and the unfamiliar dialects of the tourists. Jiang Qiaoxi was still holding her.
Lin Yingtao thought if he said something like that, even if it meant waiting eight or nine years until he finished his mathematics doctorate, she might agree.
“Yingtao,” Jiang Qiaoxi suddenly said.
“Hmm?”
“Let’s buy some food to eat back at the hotel.”
“Eat back where?” Lin Yingtao asked.
Jiang Qiaoxi looked down at her: “Back at my hotel.”
Lin Yingtao didn’t understand at first.
“What?”
Jiang Qiaoxi smiled inexplicably, his ears turning red.
Lin Yingtao looked up at him, unsure whether to smile, but she found herself smiling too.
“Let’s go,” Jiang Qiaoxi said.
Like in a romantic movie, when young, one always wants to do something related to taboos. Whether right or wrong or simply an experience. Lin Yingtao was led by Jiang Qiaoxi into a car, her heart pounding deafeningly.