During the chaotic exam week, the drama club still had to squeeze in two hours of rehearsal every day. Shakespeare's plays are world-famous, and the lines are notoriously long and tongue-twisting. The part she played had a lot of lines, and she recited them until her head was spinning and she felt like she was getting dizzy from words.
Cramming at the last minute. After nervously taking the final exam, she finally had some rare free time. Cheng Buxi stayed up late to watch a movie, “We Made a Beautiful Bouquet,” recommended by Fang Xinyi, who said it was really good and she had to watch it.
It was good, but no one told her it was a tragedy. After watching it, she felt empty inside, as if a big rock was stuck in her chest.
She couldn’t understand why the male and female leads, who clearly loved each other and matched perfectly in interests and hobbies, still ended up separating.
Was it the law of diminishing returns?
In her blanket, her heart shattered into pieces.
The next day, she made plans to have dinner with Ning Ci, promising to treat him to a big meal, claiming he could choose any restaurant in Beijing. Actually, she was the one craving food.
Ning Ci indirectly asked if she had any particular cravings, and she hemmed and hawed, saying she wanted fennel beef pies and小龙虾烤包子 (crayfish baked buns)—those were easy to find. Ning Ci naturally suggested, “Let’s go to Niujie.” She agreed instantly without hesitation.
With the lessons from the previous two times, she vowed she wouldn’t stand him up this time and arrived at the destination early.
She was always the one being waited for, and this was the first time she waited for someone else. Ning Ci teased over the phone, “How rare.”
Hearing the mockery in his voice, her cheeks flushed. As she exited the subway, she told him to stop it.
But he wouldn’t let up; he had to say it. His voice was low and deep, like a continuous mountain range, each word clear and powerful, landing in her ears: “Cheng Xiaoman, you’re the first person who’s made me wait this long.”
Now even the tips of her ears were red: “I know, wah, I know I was wrong!”
On the other end came a clear laugh, fluffy like the soft back of a large dog, gently tickling her ear through the receiver.
…
She still dressed up carefully before going out, choosing a short oatmeal-colored tweed jacket without any logo. Inside, she wore a creamy white high-neck cashmere sweater from LP. She didn’t know the price, but it was a gift from Second Sister, so it must have been expensive. The collar sat loosely around her neck like a small cloud, and the skirt and leggings went past her knees, giving a very autumn-winter vibe.
Since she started hanging out with Ning Ci, her dressing style had clearly improved by several notches. Even Fang Xinyi, who had been immune to her beauty for years, said she’d been radiant lately, a far cry from her earlier simple style of wearing jeans all four seasons.
She agreed. The dresses and haute couture gifts from Second Sister, which had been gathering dust in her closet, she now wore frequently. On the other hand, the Mary Jane shoes her brother gave her didn’t get such good treatment; they were stowed away high on a shelf, along with the Hermes bag.
Niujie is in the western district, a half-hour subway ride away. She arrived early, and on the phone, Ning Ci kept up a steady stream of chatter.
She looked down at the time: 5:20 PM. The three numbers hit her eyes directly, and she paused.
Ning Ci also noticed something on the phone and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Her breathing noticeably quickened for two seconds.
Ning Ci, confused, asked, “Why did you suddenly stop talking?”
The reason she was surprised was that her birthday was 5/20.
A brief silence: “Do you know about the stopped-clock illusion?”
“Hmm?” Ning Ci didn’t understand. “What illusion?”
“It’s when you look at the clock and find that the numbers happen to match your birthday—a phenomenon that surprises you like this.”
Ning Ci thought to himself, She’s reciting lines like a little Bodhisattva chanting sutras.
“I wouldn’t know,” he said, his light laugh like a feather brushing her heart. “Never heard of it. Where did you get that weird theory?”
It sounded a bit different from the voice on the phone. Cheng Buxi seemed to hear two voices—one came from the receiver, and the other was real, as if beside her. She didn’t think much of it, figuring she still had to wait a few more minutes.
The concept of the stopped-clock illusion came from the tragic movie she’d watched the night before.
She was about to answer, but she only said half: “Like a bouquet’s…”
As if realizing something, she turned her head and suddenly met Ning Ci’s deep black eyes. Her heartbeat instantly went haywire.
Her eyes widened brightly, surprised and delighted.
In the next second, relying on muscle memory from her tongue, she dully finished the unfinished sentence: “…love.”
“Love?”
When had he gotten behind her? Without a sound, he pulled the phone away from his ear, a smug little parenthesis curling at the corner of his mouth. He tilted his head, his dark hair neat and smooth, and teased playfully, “Are you asking me out?”
Cheng Buxi: “…”
No, that’s not it!!!
—
“Oh~ so last night you suddenly stopped replying to messages because you were watching a movie.”
“Then you spent half the night thinking about life and fell asleep. No wonder I never got a reply.”
“Cheng Xiaoman, do you know? I was waiting for you all along.”
He spoke affectionately, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. At first, Cheng Buxi tried to defend herself, but after thinking about it, even she felt it was unreasonable, so she chose not to speak.
He was wearing a black flight jacket that looked “old” in just the right way, showing some age. The leather had a warm sheen, open at the front, revealing a soft, clean white round-neck T-shirt underneath. His neck and arms were bare, with no accessories. His shoulders were broad, giving the jacket a crisp, neat silhouette.
His pants were dark gray canvas jeans faded to a soft color, with two straight, long legs. As he walked, the taut and smooth lines of his leg muscles were faintly visible beneath the fabric. Simple clothes, but he managed to look like a top-tier brand.
Cheng Buxi secretly glanced at him several times, strangely recalling earlier times on the basketball court when he wore only a tank top and flat-front shorts, his wrists and ankles also bare. His physique, without exaggeration, was top-notch.
Probably because her unrestrained observation was too direct, they almost bumped into each other. Cheng Buxi quickly restrained herself and said softly, “I didn’t mean to ignore your messages…”
“Mm.”
“I’m sorry.”