Early August brought Jiang Qiaoxi’s first proper day off since returning to work. He had awakened early, his body clock still set to work hours, but he lay in bed, watching Yingtao sleep peacefully beside him. Her nightgown was tangled around her waist, reminiscent of a child’s swimming ring. After observing her for a while, Qiaoxi decided to lie back down, pulling her close.
Barely ten minutes later, Yingtao’s phone alarm vibrated. She rubbed her eyes and lifted her head, realizing she had somehow ended up pillowed on Qiaoxi’s arm. Struggling to sit up, she adjusted her nightgown and hastily turned off the alarm.
Glancing back, assuming her husband was still asleep, Yingtao tiptoed out of bed. She carefully hung up the clothes that had fallen to the floor, then slipped into the bathroom. After showering, brushing her teeth, and blow-drying her hair, she quietly applied her skincare products. Qiaoxi hadn’t stirred, merely rolling over to hug Yingtao’s blanket. She gave him a fond look before heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.
As the soy milk machine whirred, Yingtao stretched in the living room, watching the muted morning news. The summer world seemed peaceful, with the TV announcing the 2022 Beijing Winter Olympics logo. Everything felt right. Humming softly, she watered the plants, especially the pothos on the balcony. As she dusted, she found herself falling more in love with their home.
Returning to the bedroom, she found Qiaoxi had slept an extra forty minutes. The robot vacuum was circling futilely at the door. Yingtao approached the bed, hands behind her back. “Time to get up,” she said gently. “Jiang Qiaoxi—”
She climbed onto the bed, straddling him playfully. “Come on, wake up!”
The vacuum finally entered the master bedroom, diligently working away. Qiaoxi awakened, his hair damp with sweat and sticking up wildly. He shuffled to the bathroom to shower, blearily brushing his teeth and shaving. He curiously examined Yingtao’s new makeup remover before setting it down. Meanwhile, Yingtao bustled about the bedroom, tidying the blankets and tossing the sheets into the washing machine—summer break afforded her plenty of time to keep their home in order.
Qiaoxi’s phone chimed with new messages. He replied to a few brief work emails before opening the closet to select a shirt. As he buttoned it, he heard Yingtao laughing in the living room, presumably chatting with someone.
Breakfast featured soy milk instead of coffee. Qiaoxi ate while checking stock indices and browsing the Wall Street Journal on his phone. He and Yingtao chatted intermittently. Yingtao insisted that since coffee was also made from beans, it was a type of soy milk. “You can’t be so dependent on coffee anymore, at least not in such large quantities!” she said earnestly. “You could substitute some soy milk.”
Qiaoxi nodded, then quipped, “Does that mean tofu can replace chocolate spread?”
Yingtao, mid-bite of her chocolate-spread sandwich, wrinkled her nose at him playfully.
“Think if we’ve forgotten anything,” Qiaoxi said, standing by the entrance with his suit jacket in hand.
It was too hot for a jacket, but he thought he might need it for the wedding dress fitting.
Yingtao hurried out of the bedroom, wearing light makeup and a dress, carrying a small bag and an old but well-preserved Ferragamo shoe box. Qiaoxi noticed she was wearing a cherry necklace he hadn’t seen in ages—she had stopped wearing jewelry while working at the kindergarten for safety reasons.
“Why are you wearing that?” Qiaoxi asked softly, taking the shoe box and holding her warm, soft hand. He had bought her many new necklaces in Hong Kong over the years, yet here she was, about to try on wedding dresses, wearing the gift he’d given her in high school.
In the elevator, Yingtao leaned against him, savoring a moment of closeness.
The bridal shop consultant greeted them warmly, but her enthusiasm dimmed upon seeing Yingtao’s personal jewelry and wedding shoes. The necklace and earrings in Yingtao’s bag were small enough not to cause issues. However, the red Ferragamo shoes, though still fitting after seven years, were deemed unsuitable with a white wedding dress, though they might work with a traditional Chinese outfit.
“Why aren’t they suitable?” Qiaoxi asked, unfamiliar with wedding customs.
A young shop assistant explained quietly, “Miss Lin, red shoes with a white wedding dress are considered unlucky. People say it suggests ‘jumping into a fire pit’!”
The surrounding customers laughed, turning to look at them.
Yingtao clutched her red shoes, furrowing her brow as she glanced around and then at Qiaoxi.
Initially indifferent, Qiaoxi frowned at the “fire pit” comment. Whether in Hong Kong or mainland China, there always seemed to be inexplicable wedding traditions. He surveyed the shop’s selection of wedding shoes and asked Yingtao, “Should we try on some of theirs first?”
Yingtao looked up at him stubbornly.
Qiaoxi’s expression softened as he gazed down at her small face.
It seemed nothing had changed.
He released her elbow and wrapped his arm around her instead, rubbing her shoulder to ease her unhappy expression. He then told the assistant, “If there’s nothing suitable, we’ll manage without.”
The shop manager intervened, chiding the assistant for her thoughtless comment. She examined Yingtao’s red shoes closely. “It’s fine, the train will cover them. The heel might be a bit high though,” she said, looking at Yingtao’s young, delicate face. “You’ll be standing for a very long time on your wedding day. Can you handle it?”
“I can!” Yingtao replied cheerfully.
As Yingtao disappeared behind the changing room curtains with several female assistants, Qiaoxi found a couch to sit on.
While most grooms tried on suits during these fittings, Qiaoxi’s years at a foreign investment bank had made wearing suits second nature. An employee brought him coffee from the Starbucks across the street. Qiaoxi checked his phone, reviewing futures and stock markets, and reading emails from analysts. He received a call from his boss at the Shanghai headquarters, discussing work matters and mentioning a year-end private equity fund summit in Beijing that Qiaoxi should attend.
Qiaoxi looked up, gazing out the window near the couch. Below was the city center’s busiest pedestrian street.
Across the street, he spotted the familiar six-story Xinhua Bookstore, a fixture for decades. Being summer vacation, many students were flooding in.
Qiaoxi vividly recalled his childhood visits there, armed with his father’s company book card, accompanied by their driver to buy math books. The shelves reached the ceiling, filled with many books beyond his comprehension—a feeling he had loved as a child, wishing he could spend every day there. Eventually, his packed Math Olympiad schedule left no time for such visits.
Later, books came as gifts from teachers or his cousin, or the occasional novel favored by Feilinger and his friends at school. Qiaoxi went through a phase of loving “Journey to the West,” but without his copy, carrying it in his schoolbag only invited criticism from his family. Once, he couldn’t resist buying a copy from a roadside newsstand, hiding it in his school desk, only to find it missing after lunch, taken by an unknown person.
Eventually, Qiaoxi quit the Math Olympiad. One day, he sat in the back of a public bus with Yu Qiao, Cai Fangyuan, Du Shang, and of course, Yingtao, heading to the Xinhua Bookstore. While this might have been a common after-school activity for most students, it was different for Qiaoxi. Walking among those bookshelves, he could, for the first time, freely choose a future beyond “mathematics.” He lingered between the TOEFL and SAT shelves, picking up a book. In his peripheral vision, through the gap behind the book, he saw Lin Yingtao in her blue and white striped school uniform, backpack on, tiptoeing on the opposite side, her face bright with a smile as if planning to surprise him—
“Groom!” someone called suddenly. “The bride is ready.”
Qiaoxi turned to see the curtains opening.
“Jiang Qiaoxi!” Yingtao called nervously from inside.
“Is my veil on properly?” she whispered to a nearby assistant, unable to see for herself. At the changing room door, she adjusted her skirt and train, careful not to step on them with her heels—even girls skilled in high heels had to relearn how to walk in a floor-length wedding dress. Getting married felt like a major exam.
Qiaoxi stood up from the couch. Yingtao could hear his footsteps. She released her skirt, allowing the train to cover her red shoes. Nervously straightening her posture and biting her lip, she took a deep breath and stepped out.
Jiang Qiaoxi stood before the sofa, gazing at her.
Lin Yingtao looked back at him, seemingly wanting to smile but unable to, her lips pressed together. She wore a wedding dress with a heart-shaped neckline adorned with lace and beads. From afar, it looked less like fabric and more like angel feathers embracing her. Her slender shoulders and exposed collarbones accentuated her long, graceful neck. White petals framed her chest, highlighting her elegant silhouette and making the cherry pendant on her necklace appear even more radiant.
Lin Yingtao approached her husband.
As a child, she liked to wear two swaying pigtails. Later, when they lived together in Hong Kong, her hair often hung loose, entwining with his fingers.
Now, her hair was pulled back and pinned up, making her small face appear even more youthful. She looked like a child trying to imitate an adult’s hairstyle, her eyes gazing at Jiang Qiaoxi with uncertainty.
The consultant, noticing Jiang Qiaoxi’s silence as he stared at his bride, suggested, “Why don’t you turn around, bride? Let the groom see how beautiful the back is.”
Lin Yingtao obliged, pivoting to reveal a small mole on her right shoulder blade before turning back to face him.
She looked up at him, finally smiling—a shy, nervous smile.
Jiang Qiaoxi, however, seemed at a loss for words. He appeared unprepared for this sudden scene.
Perplexingly, he asked, “You want to marry me?”
Lin Yingtao laughed softly, moving closer.
“Do I look pretty?” she asked, almost leaning into his embrace.
Lin Yingtao wanted to rent the wedding dress, but Jiang Qiaoxi insisted on buying it. His declaration made the shop assistants’ eyes light up, eager to offer more recommendations. Lin Yingtao, having changed back into her clothes, pulled Jiang Qiaoxi out of the store.
“It’s not like I’ll get married a second time…” Lin Yingtao mused as they left the bridal shop. Wearing her dress and flats, she clung to Jiang Qiaoxi’s arm as they walked. “When would I ever wear it again?”
Jiang Qiaoxi listened without argument, simply pulling her closer as they continued.
They had Jinan cuisine for lunch. As Jiang Qiaoxi picked at the chicken in his Kung Pao chicken, Lin Yingtao discussed wedding photo dates with the photographer—a popular Beijing team recommended by Qin Yeyun.
Lin Yingtao opened her mouth to accept a piece of chicken Jiang Qiaoxi offered her. Covering her mouth, she told the photographer, “My husband is very busy… He can’t take too much time off. We’d like to do an indoor shoot first, yes, to use at the wedding… Then we’ll do the rest during our honeymoon at the end of the year…”
At the watch counter, Lin Yingtao took Jiang Qiaoxi’s hand, trying different watches on his wrist. She selected carefully, not minding the effort. Jiang Qiaoxi watched her, feeling as if they were playing house.
Jiang Qiaoxi held her hand as they bought red flats for her to change into if her feet got tired during the wedding.
“We’ll come back another day with Mom and Dad to buy their outfits,” Lin Yingtao said as they walked hand-in-hand through the crowded mall. It was summer break, and the mall was full of children and student couples on secret dates. Lin Yingtao glanced at them before turning back to Jiang Qiaoxi. “Maybe we should get Dad a traditional Tang suit. I don’t think he’d be comfortable in a Western suit…”
Passing a sports tracker display, Jiang Qiaoxi suggested, “How about we get Dad one of these?”
Lin Yingtao looked up at him.
She had been about to ask if they should buy something for Uncle Jiang Zheng if he attended the wedding.
But Jiang Qiaoxi seemed in such a good mood on this rare day off that Lin Yingtao decided not to bring it up.
They stopped in front of a store window.
Inside was a small crib. Round, with flying angels suspended above and sheer white curtains partially enclosing it.
“How cute!” Lin Yingtao exclaimed, pressing her face against the glass.
Jiang Qiaoxi leaned in to examine the crib. The window reflected his grown-up face, their intertwined hands, and the faint scar on his forehead.
“Jiang Chuan Lu could sleep in this someday,” Jiang Qiaoxi suddenly said.
Lin Yingtao, her hand tightly held in his, turned to look at him as if sharing a secret.
In the mall, Lin Yingtao ran into an old teammate from her high school cheerleading squad. Their hometown was small, and the friend recognized her first. “Qile!! Do you remember me?!” She exclaimed excitedly, glancing at Jiang Qiaoxi, who used to silently watch them from the second-floor corridor. “Are you two married already??”
They browsed an imported grocery store, buying seasonal fruits and bread. Lin Yingtao handed the shopping basket to Jiang Qiaoxi and bent down to select salmon from the refrigerated case, asking what he wanted to eat. After choosing the fish, she wiped her hands and hugged Jiang Qiaoxi from behind, warming her cold fingertips against his shirt.
In an outdoor supply store, they looked at beach towels and nylon hats, planning what to buy for their year-end honeymoon.
“I want to buy a really pretty bikini!” Lin Yingtao told him, eyes sparkling.
“Let’s get it,” Jiang Qiaoxi agreed readily. He tried on two pairs of sunglasses, with the shop assistant commenting that he looked like an actor from The Matrix.
Lin Yingtao went to the restroom while Jiang Qiaoxi waited in the boyfriend’s waiting area. As she was applying lipstick, Jiang Qiaoxi called.
“Are you done?” he asked softly, chuckling. “Mr. Chen is outside.”
“Who?” Lin Yingtao put away her lipstick.
When she exited the restroom, she saw a balding man in a light yellow shirt and beach shorts standing with his wife and child, shaking hands with Jiang Qiaoxi.
Their former high school homeroom teacher, Mr. Chen, laughed heartily upon seeing Lin Yingtao. “It’s Lin Qile!”
He grasped her hand, examining her face closely before looking at Jiang Qiaoxi. “You two!” he exclaimed, shaking his head in amusement.
Over the past few years, their high school class had held several reunions organized by class president Feng Letian. Mr. Chen had attended a few, meeting most of the students except for Jiang Qiaoxi, the class’s pride, who never showed up. Classmates speculated that he was working in Hong Kong. In fact, during their senior year, Mr. Chen was shocked to learn that Jiang Qiaoxi had returned to handle his school affairs and was suddenly transferring to Hong Kong.
At the time, he had asked Jiang Qiaoxi what had happened, and if family issues were causing this sudden change of plans that the school knew nothing about.
The usually proud student had simply hung his head, saying nothing.
Now, looking at Jiang Qiaoxi, Mr. Chen noticed he seemed thinner. Years of hard work had transformed him from the unstable, pale student he remembered. His brow seemed more mature, his skin a bit darker, and his eyes held a smile. Mr. Chen joked, “It seems Lin Qile has rubbed off on you, eh?”
Jiang Qiaoxi lowered his head, patting Mr. Chen’s young daughter’s hair. The little girl clung to her father’s leg, staring up at Jiang Qiaoxi’s face.
“I was quite busy those years in Hong Kong,” Jiang Qiaoxi explained to Mr. Chen, withdrawing his hand. “That’s why I couldn’t come back.”
“That’s good,” Mr. Chen nodded, smiling up at Jiang Qiaoxi with lingering concern. He turned, placing a hand on Jiang Qiaoxi’s tall shoulder, and told his family, “This is Jiang Qiaoxi from our Class 18 of ’05. Math Olympiad gold medalist, National First Prize winner! A top student from the University of Hong Kong.”
“Of course, I remember!” his wife smiled.
Mr. Chen then introduced Lin Qile: “She was also in the top 100 of that year. Lin Qile, is a very diligent student. Beijing Normal University, right?”
Lin Yingtao quickly greeted, “Hello, Mrs. Chen!”
Mrs. Chen stroked her daughter’s hair, saying softly, “See? You should learn from your big brother and sister!”
The little girl shyly hid behind her mother.
“I wish you both a happy life!” Mr. Chen said as they parted. “Approach your work and family with the same spirit you had in high school. Strive hard and take good care of your family! Don’t slack off just because the college entrance exam is over!”
In mid-August, Qin Yeyun came to the provincial capital on a business trip. After meeting with suppliers, she left the factory alone. In the scorching afternoon sun, amid the constant cicada song, Qin Yeyun stepped out of a taxi in her high heels. Standing before the entrance to Lin Yingtao’s current residential complex, she removed her sunglasses and gazed up at the gates for a long moment.