In May, the small-time leader from Jiang Qiaoxi’s family flew to Hong Kong for a “work inspection.” Her ear piercings, inflamed for a month, had finally healed. She packed her little red shoes into her suitcase. Throughout the journey, she slept for beauty rest and applied face masks, only starting her makeup as the plane neared landing—all techniques learned from beauty magazines, somewhat reminiscent of exam preparation.
As soon as Lin Yingtao landed at Hong Kong International Airport, she rushed to the bathroom with her suitcase and immediately changed into her shoes.
She wore a white dress that hugged her shoulders tightly, with the hem above her knees, revealing slender knees and calves. The collar had small red embroidery, purely for decoration. She donned red high heels, her hair smoothed back, with red fan-shaped earrings. Lin Yingtao’s lips were cherry-red; she had made every effort to enhance her beauty.
Overjoyed, she went to meet Jiang Qiaoxi like this.
Jiang Qiaoxi spotted her from afar in the arrival hall. He stared at her intently, his gaze lingering on her dress for over ten seconds.
When they embraced, Jiang Qiaoxi lowered his head to examine her face. He lifted Lin Yingtao’s chin with his right index finger, his thumb gently brushing her red lips.
“The one you gave me expired, so I bought a new one,” Lin Yingtao said, looking up at him. Her already large eyes were accentuated with eyeliner and curled lashes, making Jiang Qiaoxi barely recognize her.
“When did you learn to apply makeup?” Jiang Qiaoxi asked, holding her on the subway.
Lin Yingtao, who had been happily hugging him, frowned upon hearing this.
“Wasn’t it you who bought me the lipstick?”
Jiang Qiaoxi looked down at her for a while, then at her calves and her feet made even more slender and white by the red shoes. Tempting. Perhaps Lin Yingtao would slowly discover that she possessed looks and charm capable of captivating many men. She could learn to use it, like many girls Jiang Qiaoxi had met during his internship. It would make her entire life much easier. But for now, Lin Yingtao was still childlike, clinging to Jiang Qiaoxi, her heart and eyes filled only with him. Jiang Qiaoxi held onto the subway handle and pulled her close.
Jiang Qiaoxi longed to regain financial freedom. This desire intensified with Lin Yingtao’s growth, his exposure to the workplace, and his cousin’s recovery. Yingtao remained oblivious to this. She entered Jiang Qiaoxi’s newly rented apartment, carrying the small Dior bag her aunt had given her. The narrow hallway led directly from the door, with a tiny bathroom on the left. The hallway doubled as a kitchen, equipped with a range hood, induction cooker, washing machine, and refrigerator. Beyond the hallway was a square room, mostly occupied by a double bed. To the left of the bed stood a nightstand with three photo frames: one of Jiang Qiaoxi with his cousin’s family from 2007, another of Jiang Qiaoxi and Lin Yingtao on Victoria Peak Road, and a solo picture of Lin Yingtao smiling in a qipao jacket, holding narcissus flowers on New Year’s Eve.
On the other side of the bed was a full-length mirror, clearly for a woman’s use, and a narrow wardrobe.
Jiang Qiaoxi brought in her suitcase and closed the door. Watching Yingtao walk forward, her red heels lifting her arches, the thin heels tapping on his wooden floor, each click sent a wave of warmth through his heart.
Two pillows lay close together at the head of the bed, which pleased Lin Yingtao when she noticed. She walked to the window and looked out, discovering a pothos plant on the windowsill that Jiang Qiaoxi had bought in Hong Kong.
“How much is the monthly rent for this apartment?” she turned and asked.
Jiang Qiaoxi changed his shoes by the door, then took out his keys, Octopus card, and phone from his pocket, placing them on the small dining table near the entrance. He walked in. “Just over ten thousand,” he said, embracing Yingtao’s waist from behind.
Suddenly, Yingtao’s skirt lifted. Lin Yingtao, leaning against the window facing the street, closed her eyes, her body trembling and leaning forward.
The curtains were quickly drawn.
Although Lin Yingtao had worn the high heels for less than an hour, her heels were already red. Her dress hung in the wardrobe now, and she hadn’t put on pajamas yet, wrapped only in Jiang Qiaoxi’s blanket with one shoulder exposed and her hair falling. She said, “It’s so expensive for such a small place, just over ten square meters for more than ten thousand. Everything in Hong Kong is so costly.”
Jiang Qiaoxi, showering in the bathroom, asked through the door how her TOEFL preparation was going.
Lin Yingtao replied, “I’ve been busy with graded exams and haven’t prepared much yet.”
Jiang Qiaoxi turned off the shower and came out with a towel on his head. His shoulders were broad as he approached Lin Yingtao, placing both hands on the bed. He lowered his head.
“So you registered for nothing?” His eyes were wet, giving his gaze a certain intimidating quality.
Lin Yingtao looked up at him, mumbling, “The exam is in July, still two months away.”
She was pulled from under the blanket and lifted by Jiang Qiaoxi. Lin Yingtao laughed nervously, clinging tightly to his shoulders. Since third grade, when her mother taught her to bathe alone, Lin Yingtao hadn’t been in a bathroom alone with anyone. The door opened slightly, hot water poured down, and Lin Yingtao’s long hair clung to her back as she leaned against him, kissing for a long time. For the first time, Lin Yingtao felt that she and Jiang Qiaoxi truly had a home together, perhaps this was the meaning of the ten thousand yuan rent.
On May 2nd, the news reported that Bin Laden was dead.
Lin Yingtao was frying beaten eggs on the induction cooker, holding a plate of tomato chunks Jiang Qiaoxi had cut. Jiang Qiaoxi sat at the dining table behind her, busy with work, when he suddenly read out this international news item.
Lin Yingtao turned her head, glancing at Jiang Qiaoxi illuminated by the computer screen. As she cooked, she suddenly remembered many years ago.
“Back then, we were watching the news in Qunshan. I went to Yu Qiao’s house, wanting to call you,” Lin Yingtao said as she sat at the dining table, eating rice. “Yu Qiao had your home phone number, but we couldn’t get through no matter how many times we tried.”
Jiang Qiaoxi looked at her from across the table. “What did you want to say on the phone?”
Lin Yingtao met his gaze. “What else? To tell you there were terrorists in America.”
Jiang Qiaoxi continued eating the dishes Yingtao had cooked. Today’s Jiang Qiaoxi was far happier than in the past. “I was in a competition class at the time,” he said, eating the rice Yingtao had steamed. “I heard the news on the traffic radio in my dad’s car, and I immediately thought of you.”
Lin Yingtao asked softly, “What did you think about me?”
Jiang Qiaoxi said, “I thought you’d probably be standing in front of me with those big eyes of yours, all teary-eyed, saying, ‘Don’t go to America.'”
Lin Yingtao laughed.
“I wasn’t teary-eyed!”
Jiang Qiaoxi lowered his head, smiling. “You used to cry all the time when you were little, always acting coy with me, and now you say you didn’t.”
Senior Meng Lijun asked Lin Yingtao on QQ if she had gone to Hong Kong again for the May Day holiday.
“Le’er, don’t be too eager,” the senior warned. “Your dream guy might be excellent, but running to Hong Kong so often… Men, you know, they chase hard when they can’t have you, but once you’re too easy to get, they stop cherishing you. You need to learn how to keep him interested, and take care of yourself, understand?”
Is that so? Lin Yingtao wondered as she played with her phone at night, turning to look at Jiang Qiaoxi’s peaceful sleeping face. But I came here because I wanted to, she thought.
Her senior must think she has no self-respect.
The May Day holiday was painfully short, and soon Lin Yingtao returned to school. Jiang Qiaoxi called and sent WeChat messages frequently, asking about her TOEFL preparation and whether any boys at school were pursuing her. “You know, like ‘Beihang University hunks’ or something,” he suddenly mentioned.
Lin Yingtao had just installed WeChat and wasn’t very familiar with it yet. After washing her clothes and drying her hands, she opened the voice message Jiang Qiaoxi had just sent and listened to it close to her ear. She couldn’t help but smile, feeling as if she were listening to whispered secrets.
She then played the first voice message Jiang Qiaoxi had ever sent her: “Yingtao, it’s Jiang Qiaoxi.”
His voice was soft, always carrying a hint of nonchalance. Lin Yingtao thought her seniors were right; his voice was indeed very pleasant.
She couldn’t resist listening to it again, and then once more.
Lin Yingtao loved WeChat. Whenever she missed him but didn’t want to disturb his work or couldn’t call, she would play his old voice messages, as if he were right beside her.
Lin Yingtao said, “How come you’re talking about Beihang hunks too? Please, I beg you, forget about that from now on.”
Jiang Qiaoxi asked, “Who’s from Beihang? Yu Qiao?”
Lin Yingtao sent him a row of ellipses.
“Please don’t let Yu Qiao know,” Lin Yingtao mumbled.
“Know what?”
“Just… this Beihang hunk thing,” Lin Yingtao found it hard to articulate.
“What’s wrong?” Jiang Qiaoxi said, “Do you two have some secret?”
“What secret!” Lin Yingtao said irritably, “It’s just my seniors used to joke about it. They finally stopped, and now I don’t know why it’s being brought up again.”
“Yu Qiao and I are fine,” Lin Yingtao said. “We almost couldn’t even be friends anymore.”
“Yingtao.”
“What is it?”
“Why don’t you like Yu Qiao?” Jiang Qiaoxi suddenly asked.
Lin Yingtao’s heart skipped a beat.
“What kind of question is that…”
Jiang Qiaoxi’s profile picture appeared, a black and white photo taken by someone else, showing him in a suit and shirt sitting on a sofa at an internship gathering. The voice message played: “I’ve always been curious, and today I just thought to ask.”
Lin Yingtao said, “There’s no like or dislike… we’re just friends…”
Jiang Qiaoxi asked, “Really?”
Lin Yingtao hesitated, “Are you seriously asking me, or just teasing?”
Jiang Qiaoxi said, “If you don’t want to answer, you can treat it as a joke.”
“I can’t explain it,” Lin Yingtao thought for a moment, then said, “My relationship with Yu Qiao isn’t as good as you think. Anyway… when I talk to him about anything, he never speaks to me seriously, unlike Du Shang and the others. Sometimes he’s nice, but other times he’s not, and I don’t like that about him.”
Jiang Qiaoxi said, “Isn’t he just joking around with you?”
Lin Yingtao’s tone became serious: “Sometimes it’s not a joke. Cai Fangyuan and Du Shang joke with me too, but they rarely go as far as he does.”
Jiang Qiaoxi was silent for a moment: “Actually, Cai Fangyuan can be quite excessive sometimes, but you never really get angry with him.”
Lin Yingtao suddenly felt confused: “Why are you telling me this?”
Jiang Qiaoxi said, “Yingtao, I’ve been thinking more and more lately that if I hadn’t kept you back then…”
It wasn’t clear if he only said half of it or only recorded half, as there was nothing after that.
Lin Yingtao went to the water room to hang clothes, one by one. She dried her hands and took out her phone; half an hour had passed.
She saw that Jiang Qiaoxi had sent a new voice message.
“I didn’t mean to,” he apologized, perhaps thinking Lin Yingtao was angry, “You might not believe it, but I was just jealous of him before.”
What could Jiang Qiaoxi be jealous of Yu Qiao for? His harmonious parents and happy family? His cheerful personality? Or the many friends always surrounding him?
Lin Yingtao pressed record: “I wish I could be by your side right now, to be with you, hug you for a while… and give you a kiss…” She added, “But I have an internship tomorrow…”
There was a smile in Jiang Qiaoxi’s voice: “Alright…”
Lin Yingtao picked up the basin and walked towards the dorm. She sighed loudly at her phone: “Ah! Comforting babies during the day, and a big baby at night… Teacher Lin is so tired!”
During the summer vacation of her junior year, Lin Yingtao flew to Hong Kong again. Jiang Qiaoxi had already started his summer internship at Morgan Stanley. He would get up beside Lin Yingtao at five in the morning, and hurriedly change into his shirt and suit, needing to be at the company by six. He was busy all day, only able to reply to Lin Yingtao’s WeChat messages during lunch at the company, asking if she needed him to buy anything to bring back. On lucky days, Jiang Qiaoxi would return home around seven in the evening; more often, it was common for him to return at one or two in the morning. Sometimes Lin Yingtao was already asleep, still listening to TOEFL audio in her earphones, when he would wake her up, dusty and tired. They would be intimate for a while, with Lin Yingtao wanting to persuade him to sleep earlier because he looked so exhausted. But Jiang Qiaoxi was reluctant.
This was the price of a monthly salary of 50,000 Hong Kong dollars. Lin Yingtao lay in his arms as Jiang Qiaoxi fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. She helped him remove his loosened tie, then took off his half-removed shirt. Lin Yingtao got up, hung his suit, and laid out his shirt on the small table, ironing it. During her internship at the kindergarten, Lin Yingtao had to iron her shirts every day.
Lin Yingtao took the TOEFL test on her own and told Jiang Qiaoxi on WeChat that she felt she had done well. The once-difficult TOEFL vocabulary was no longer a big problem for her, and the home she once couldn’t bear to leave no longer held her back so tightly. Walking on the streets of Hong Kong, Lin Yingtao felt a sense of belonging growing subtly in her heart.
Lin Yingtao stood at the entrance of a noodle shop, looking up at the television inside.
On the TV screen, famous Chinese basketball player Yao Ming was holding a press conference in Shanghai. Surrounded by flowers at the microphone, he announced his official retirement.
Lin Yingtao took out her phone and mentioned this in the Qunshan small dining table group chat. Yao Ming was born in 1980, only 31 years old.
Du Shang said, “How did he retire so quickly? I feel like he didn’t play for that many years??”
Yu Qiao said, “Probably serious injuries.”
Lin Yingtao stood there, still looking up at the TV.
After the press conference news, the next item came on. A movie about youth and campus love was set to be released next month, and the male singer chosen to perform the theme song “Those Years” was being interviewed by reporters. Lin Yingtao watched for a while and realized this singer was born in 1990, only a month older than her.
Recently, Lin Yingtao had been increasingly aware of something: in the past, the people she saw on TV and in magazines were always from the older generation, big brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts. Lin Yingtao was used to thinking “I’m still young,” always feeling like a child in front of the whole world.
But now, more and more people her age are appearing in public media.
It seemed that their post-90s generation was beginning to take over the world bit by bit from the previous generation.
When Yu Qiao first went abroad, he said he would stay for a year or two. At that time, a year or two seemed so long. But in the blink of an eye, senior year was approaching, and he had returned to China.
Lin Yingtao was cooking in Jiang Qiaoxi’s small apartment. Jiang Qiaoxi said he would come home early today. He had asked his supervisor for leave, saying his girlfriend was about to leave, and he wanted to get off work on time to have dinner with her and then go out to see a movie. The supervisor, who appreciated Jiang Qiaoxi, let him go.
Lin Yingtao finished cooking and left the dishes in the pot to keep warm. She lowered her head to check her phone, intending to see when Jiang Qiaoxi would be home but found that in the WeChat group, Jiang Qiaoxi and Yu Qiao were chatting casually.
Yu Qiao said, “Back in China, getting a pilot’s license.”
Jiang Qiaoxi said, “I used to think you wanted to join the Air Force.”
Yu Qiao said, “My family wasn’t too keen on that.”
Yu Qiao then asked, “I heard from Cai Fangyuan that you’re interning at an investment bank in Hong Kong?”
Jiang Qiaoxi said, “Yeah.”
Yu Qiao said, “Making quite a bit, huh?”
Jiang Qiaoxi said, “It’s busy.”
Lin Yingtao asked, “Where are you now? @Jiang Qiaoxi”
Yu Qiao said, “Lin Yingtao, what are you up to?”
Lin Yingtao said, “I’m cooking! Waited for ages and you guys are just chatting here.”
Jiang Qiaoxi said, “At the building entrance, be there soon.”
Yu Qiao said, “You’re cooking? Send a picture!”
Lin Yingtao: [Picture]
Lin Yingtao: [Picture]
Lin Yingtao: [Picture]
Du Shang: [Thumbs up][Thumbs up][Thumbs up]
Yu Qiao said, “What’s this black stuff?”
Cai Fangyuan said, “What did you fry, eggplant? Lin Yingtao, how much soy sauce did you use?”
When Jiang Qiaoxi entered, he saw Lin Yingtao rolling her eyes at her phone, though she didn’t seem genuinely angry. She replied, “It’s delicious, don’t believe me? Ask Jiang Qiaoxi!”
Jiang Qiaoxi: [Thumbs up]
Cai Fangyuan said, “@Jiang Qiaoxi, weren’t you still downstairs?”
Yu Qiao said, “@Jiang Qiaoxi, it’s not easy, brother.”
Jiang Qiaoxi sat in the last row of the cinema with Lin Yingtao, watching “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Part 2,” the final installment of the series. Lin Yingtao sipped her drink, her eyes brimming with tears as she watched the grown-up Harry sending his children to Platform 9¾ to board the train to Hogwarts. Lin Yingtao’s hand rested on the armrest. She turned her head; Jiang Qiaoxi was still wearing the shirt from his investment bank internship. Jiang Qiaoxi lowered his eyes to look at her. Although the scar on his forehead was still there, he no longer looked like the unrecognizable boy in the Math Olympiad winter camp ID photo.
Lin Yingtao gazed at him. As the movie reached its end, she traced his face in the darkness. Lin Yingtao turned away from Harry’s magical world. She kissed Jiang Qiaoxi in his embrace, kissing the real magic in her life.
Slowly, the scar would no longer hurt.
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Our Generation – Chapter Notes:
On May 1, 2011 (May 2 Beijing time), U.S. President Obama announced that Osama bin Laden had been killed by U.S. military forces.
WeChat: A free instant messaging application for smart terminals launched by Tencent on January 21, 2011. On May 10, 2011, WeChat released version 2.0, adding voice chat functionality, which led to the first significant growth in WeChat’s user base.
On July 20, 2011, at 2 PM, Yao Ming officially announced his retirement at a press conference, ending his 13-year professional career.
Hu Xia: A Chinese singer born on March 1, 1990, who sang the theme song “Those Years” for the 2011 movie “You Are the Apple of My Eye.”
“Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Part 2,” directed by David Yates and starring Daniel Radcliffe, was released on July 15, 2011.