During summer break, A-Heng only returned to the Wen family home three times.

The first time was for a family visit – grandfather was well, mother was well, elder brother was well, and even Wen Si’er was well, all very well. The second time was because Si Wan notified her that her cactus was mysteriously dying, and she returned home to rescue it. The third time was when her mother fell ill, gritting her teeth as she said, “Come back, to collect my remains.” She rushed back from next door to the next door, only to find her mother, who had eaten too much the day before, secretly chewing on digestive tablets.

A-Heng watched her finish the medicine, made her a cup of milk, and handed it to her, saying, “Mom, I’ll head out now.” At the entrance, she hesitated, then turned back with resigned subtlety, “Mom, next time you could try eating a bit less meat.”

Then, Mother Wen was left dumbfounded, watching her leave without finding other words to say.

At a certain banquet, the ladies and young misses of Beijing gossiped and laughed: “Oh, Yun Yi, did you know? Chief Staff Zhang’s son has been completely captivated by some little singer, he’s never home nowadays, even gave her a pearl dress worth several hundred thousand, it’s nearly given Zhang a heart attack.”

Mother Wen tidied her hair, smiling with noble grace, as if completely detached from the matter: “I wonder which little starlet it is, must be quite a beauty.”

One of the ladies touched her chin: “I think her surname is Yan, not famous, but it’s an uncommon surname, the same as General Yan’s, that’s why I remember it.”

Mother Wen’s face instantly darkened like the bottom of a pot, grinding her teeth: “Must be another little vixen.”

Meanwhile, Yan Xi sneezed: “A-Heng, you put too much Sichuan pepper in the ribs.”

A-Heng poked her head out from the kitchen, smiling faintly: “I saw in an interview recently that Chu Yun makes excellent ribs.”

Yan Xi forced a laugh: “These ribs with Sichuan pepper, spicy yet fragrant, tender within the fragrance, truly seasoned perfectly.”

Guilty-conscienced, he lowered his head, obediently eating the ribs, tears forming in his eyes from the spiciness. Dear mother, just how much Sichuan pepper was in this?

A-Heng washed her hands, removed her apron, and returned to the dining table, but the ribs had been eaten completely clean. She was stunned: “How… did you eat it so fast?”

Yan Xi coughed until his face turned red: “A-Heng, don’t use Sichuan pepper next time. Although I can eat spicy food, I can’t handle this much.”

A-Heng held her forehead: “Who told you to eat it all? There’s another plate in the kitchen that isn’t spicy, I just…”

Yan Xi smiled with curved eyes, like a child: “Only fortunate people get to eat the ribs A-Heng makes.”

Something caught in A-Heng’s chest, “You idiot, idiot…” she repeated, unable to say anything else.

They received an invitation – a high school classmate was getting married, which shocked them quite a bit. They went arm in arm to buy gifts.

A-Heng found everything she chose either not serious enough or inappropriate, furrowing her brow. Yan Xi suggested they just give money, letting them buy whatever they wanted.

A-Heng was both amused and exasperated: “Young master, this is someone’s once-in-a-lifetime wedding, at least be a bit more serious.”

Yan Xi mumbled while rubbing his chin: “Money is such a good thing though.”

A-Heng said: “We’ll give money, but we need to give a gift too. The money is for the wedding feast, but the gift shows the old classmates’ sincerity.”

Yan Xi had nothing to say. They browsed for a long time before buying a traditional-style folding screen with a lake silk surface, smooth as a mirror, embroidered with beautiful mountains, waters, and a pair of lovers. The bride-to-be had been a young literary talent in high school who loved reciting classical poetry, she would surely like it.

On the wedding day, Yan Xi asked: “What should I wear?”

A-Heng stood on tiptoe to fix his tie, smiling: “Why are you so nervous? It’s not like you’re the groom.”

“Me as a groom, I can’t quite imagine it,” Yan Xi muttered, putting on his blue suit jacket.

A-Heng tilted her head slightly to examine him, squinting: “Oh my, Yan Xi, you seem to have aged again.”

Yan Xi pressed his forehead against hers: “So, do you still think of yourself as a child?”

A-Heng pursed her thin lips and laughed, her eyes full of satisfaction: “I’ll always be a bit younger than you.”

Yan Xi whispered in her ear: “Then you can’t die before me. If you die, every time I see your grave, I’ll step on it.”

A-Heng: “Get lost, I haven’t lived enough yet!”

They attended the wedding hand in hand, one in blue and one in white, one proud and one gentle, truly a sight to behold.

An old classmate laughed: “You two singles, haven’t seen you in two years, and you’re still together?”

Yan Xi: “Actually… she’s my girlfriend.”

A-Heng: “Actually… he’s my boyfriend.”

Everyone smiled: “Why are you kids being so dishonest? If you don’t have partners, just say so. Relationships between men and women are all the same. We’ve been friends for so many years and won’t laugh at you, why can’t you be more open?”

A-Heng looked at Yan Xi.

Yan Xi said: “Well, we’re together, really, more real than enoki mushrooms.”

Everyone pretended not to hear, chatting and drinking tea while waiting for the real bride and groom. It was a Western-style wedding, with an elderly pastor dozing in the sunlight.

A-Heng was indignant: “I consider myself an honest person, but it’s because of your usually poor behavior that your credibility is too low.”

Yan Xi twitched: “Why is it my fault?”

From not far away, two people wandered over – it was Mary and Auntie.

A-Heng smiled: “Finally caught you two, haven’t seen even a shadow of you all holiday.”

Da Yi hid behind Chen Juan, clutching Chen Juan’s clothes, his thick eyebrows drooping into a mess, the big guy playing vulnerable, pitifully looking at Yan Xi.

A-Heng was puzzled, wondering if Da Yi had offended Yan Xi somehow. But Yan Xi burst out laughing: “Look at how pathetic you are, and you call yourself a big boss.”

Da Yi’s voice buzzed like a fly: “Brother Yan Xi, I am guilty.”

Pft, A-Heng spat out her tea. Was it raining red? Da Yi called Yan Xi’s brother, he usually called him either beauty or just Yan Xi.

Yan Xi had a smile at the corner of his mouth, his big eyes clean and clear: “Could you be less self-centered? If I was angry with you, would you still be seeing today’s sun?”

Chen Juan smiled awkwardly: “Our Da Yi isn’t that weak, right?”

A-Heng spat out another mouthful of tea. “Our Da Yi” – when did those two become so close?

A-Heng turned back, the summer breeze mixed with sunlight was warm, she smiled: “Did you and Da Yi have a falling out while I wasn’t around?”

Xin Da Yi had a crying face, but Yan Xi lowered his head with a faint smile: “It’s nothing, just a small matter, I lost some money I borrowed from him.”

Then he stood up and walked to Da Yi’s front, whispering a few words in his ear.

Xin Da Yi stood a bit straighter, still frowning with a bitter face.

A-Heng patted Da Yi’s shoulder, smiling: “If he says he doesn’t blame you then he doesn’t, don’t take it to heart.”

Da Yi had tears rolling in his eyes, either moved or something else, he held A-Heng’s hand, trembling: “Brother, I’ve never asked you for anything in this life, just please don’t take a knife to me in the future.”

A-Heng smiled, giving him a subtle glance: “We’ll see.”

The bride and groom stood before the pastor in pure white, gazing at each other, smiling. Jesus, Buddha, whether it was hallelujah or Amitabha, just take a vow, “I do” would suffice.

A-Heng gazed steadily at the bride, who wore a beautiful ring on her hand that sparkled in the distant sunlight.

Her heart grew warm.

This girl had once walked up to her in high school holding a “Complete Tang Poetry” collection, smiling mischievously: “A-Heng, I read a poem yesterday, see if you think it’s good or not.”

“Which one?”

The little literary talent dragged out her words: “People aren’t wood or stone, all have feelings; better to never meet a city-toppling beauty.”

A-Heng’s face had reddened then, surprised that others had seen through her, only softly saying “Very good.” Not far away in the sunlight, Yan Xi was closing his eyes, leaning against the classroom window memorizing vocabulary.

That year, it was also such good sunshine, filling people’s hearts with hope. Now, the little literary talent was another’s bride, while she and her city-toppling beauty were still engaged in their desperate game.

She gently extended her fingers, firmly grasping Yan Xi’s slim, long fingers. She thought she was extremely patient, while Yan Xi was naturally impulsive – she would surely win over him one day.

Yan Xi was surprised, looking down at his fingers that had turned white in A-Heng’s grip. He held her hand back, with a calm smile at the corner of his lips.

The bride smiled brilliantly, holding a bouquet of fresh flowers ready to throw to the crowd. The good maidens awaiting marriage stirred with excitement, but the little literary talent looked at A-Heng, winked mischievously, and threw it toward her.

A-Heng reached out to catch it, the flower fragrance in the sunlight, slowly, seemingly just a second away from happiness’s parabola.

Very close, very close, coming right at her.

But from not far away, a crowd of girls pushed her aside, reaching for the flowers.

A-Heng looked at her empty hands, feeling somewhat lost.

However, a pair of fair hands caught the bouquet steadily with lightning speed, eyes sparkling as they smiled: “Sorry sorry, everyone, please try again next time.”

The crowd of women retorted: “Why’s a man grabbing this, planning to come out and marry someone?”

That person wiped his tears: “Our A-Heng is so slow, if I as a father don’t help prepare early, will you all even let my child get married?”

The woman spat blood: “Yan Xi, you’re invincible when it comes to your kid.”

He smiled pleasantly, politely squinting his eyes and saying thank you all around, gently tucking the bouquet into A-Heng’s arms, letting her hold it full. Then, he carefully and tenderly stroked her eyebrows, earnestly speaking: “Next time, when you want something, you must be more proactive.”

A-Heng nodded and said: “Alright, I’ll try my best.”

She held the bouquet, her face showing a maiden’s clear blush, not knowing how best to express her joy.

They left after the wedding feast, and the little literary talent lifting her white dress called out from behind: “A-Heng since you’ve met him, even if he’s wood or stone, you must teach him to understand!”

A-Heng laughed and turned back to wave: “I know.”

I know.

One day, Si Wan called the Yan household looking for Yan Xi.

After taking the call, Yan Xi’s expression wasn’t good. That afternoon he locked himself in his room drawing for hours but produced nothing of substance. By evening he said he needed to go out, telling A-Heng not to make dinner for him.

A-Heng was somewhat surprised – since she’d returned home for break, he had never gone out during mealtimes, always sitting obediently at the dining table with his porcelain bowl, smiling like a big baby.

The temperature difference between day and night was significant, so A-Heng made him take a purple jacket.

When he returned it was already past midnight, reeking of alcohol, almost collapsing onto her shoulder the moment he saw her. The jacket was also stained with large patches of alcohol, who knows how much he had drunk.

She made him hangover soup, but he threw up alcohol several times that night, couldn’t even keep the soup down, and only fell into deep sleep after his stomach was empty.

This continued for several days – leaving around six or seven in the evening, returning only after midnight. Dead drunk every time, vomiting until almost bringing up bile.

A-Heng asked what he was doing, Yan Xi always remained silent, but the last time he said it was business entertainment.

A-Heng was puzzled: “Since when did you start doing business?”

Yan Xi replied flatly: “Lu Liu’s, they were short-handed, I’m helping with the entertainment.”

A-Heng frowned but held back her words.

Yet Yan Xi continued as before, only getting home after midnight. A-Heng waited up to let him in, but Yan Xi used his key to open the door, not speaking, supporting himself up the stairs to the second floor, his face very red, his steps only barely maintaining control.

He pretended not to see A-Heng.

In the middle of the night, though he had thrown up the alcohol, there were extremely light footsteps.

A-Heng lay with closed eyes, not sleeping all night.

During the day he chatted and laughed with A-Heng as usual, taking her to walk through every corner of the ancient city, leading her to eat throughout the old town. Cat’s ears in the small alleys, fried rice cakes in the hutongs, following the traces of his childhood growth, the classical tea houses, a cup of flower tea, whiling away half a sunset.

He said: “If you hadn’t left in childhood, this would have been your whole life.”

Only, in places the sunlight couldn’t reach, his complexion was somewhat pale.

A-Heng propped her chin with her hand, asking him neither coldly nor warmly: “Yan Xi, what exactly do you take me for?” She seriously inquired.

He humbly answered: “Naturally, my girlfriend.”

A-Heng watched the long, sharp spout of the teapot pour the scalding tea precisely into the cup, speaking softly: “Good, from now on, don’t get entangled with Lu Liu anymore.”

She said: “I don’t like you being like this for him.”