Xie An’yu received a friend request on WeChat with the verification message simply saying ‘Guo Tianyang’. It must have been sent earlier in the day when Xie An’yu was too busy to check his phone.
Xie An’yu accepted the friend request, and a message popped up immediately.
Guo Tianyang: 【Long time no see!】
Xie An’yu: 【Long time no see】
Guo Tianyang: 【Haha, just realized we haven’t actually met yet】
Guo Tianyang: 【Are you in Beicheng now?】
Xie An’yu: 【Yeah】
Guo Tianyang: 【Ding Xiaofei told me about what happened with your family】
Guo Tianyang: 【Are you staying at your aunt’s place now?】
Xie An’yu: 【Yeah】
Some things were hard to discuss over WeChat, and it had been ages since Guo Tianyang last saw Xie An’yu. Before this, he’d never imagined Xie An’yu would leave Shuangye Isle, let alone that they’d end up in the same city. He wanted to meet up.
Guo Tianyang: 【Which district do you live in?】
Xie An’yu: 【I’m not really sure】
Guo Tianyang: 【Then send me your location. I’ll see how far we are from each other. If it’s not too far, wanna meet up?】
Xie An’yu sent his location.
Guo Tianyang: 【It’s quite close. I’m studying in Anli District. When are you free? Let’s make an appointment—I’ll treat you to a meal】
Xie An’yu: 【No need for dinner, that’s too much】
Guo Tianyang: 【Then just to catch up. It’s been too long since we last saw each other—over a year】
Xie An’yu only had two days off a month. If they met up soon, he’d have to take leave early. He’d just started this job, and taking time off so soon might leave a bad impression on his boss. But if they met in the evening, he got off work pretty late…
After some deliberation, Xie An’yu decided to ask for an hour off and leave early to meet Guo Tianyang.
Xie An’yu: 【Can we meet in the evening?】
Guo Tianyang: 【Of course!】
Xie An’yu: 【I get off work late, around 8 o’clock】
Guo Tianyang: 【Works for me. I’m free at night anyway. How about we meet near your workplace?】
Xie An’yu: 【Would that be inconvenient for you?】
Guo Tianyang: 【Not at all. The subway makes it easy, and we’re not that far apart. How about next Saturday?】
Xie An’yu: 【Okay】
Guo Tianyang: 【Then it’s settled. Get back to your stuff】
Xie An’yu replied with a [smile[mfn]微笑 (wéi xiào)
[/mfn]] emoji.
Guo Tianyang looked at his phone and laughed.
If anyone else had sent him that [smile] emoji, Guo Tianyang might have felt a little awkward and cursed the other person for being weird. But with Xie An’yu, it was different. Guo Tianyang knew there was no hidden meaning—no sarcasm or mockery. It was just Xie An’yu’s way of being polite.
Xie An’yu clicked into Guo Tianyang’s Moments[mfn]朋友圈 (Péng you quān): Moments (social networking function of smartphone app WeChat 微信 (Wēi xìn) developed by Tencent 騰訊 (Téng xùn). It serves new social networking functions for WeChat users. The Chinese translation of Moment is known as “Friends’ circle”, which means users can share and get access to accepted WeChat friends’ information, creating an intimate and private communication circle within the users’ choice of close friends.[/mfn] and took a look. After all, he was one of only two close friends from back then. It was impossible not to be curious about how he was doing now.
Guo Tianyang’s Moments were full of photos—some solo, some group shots. He looked the same as before, though his eyes seemed steadier now. His smile was still as bright as ever.
By the time Xie An’yu got home, it was almost ten o’clock in the evening Suddenly, he realized he didn’t have the key to the house. At this time, his aunt and uncle might already be in bed. He hesitated outside the door for a moment, then knocked lightly.
He’d already decided—just one knock. If no one answered, he’d sleep on a bench downstairs.
To his surprise, the door opened moments later. Wu Jie stood there in loungewear, her brow slightly furrowed. “What kind of job did you find? Why did you get off work so late?”
“Just… a kitchen helper at a restaurant,” Xie An’yu replied as he stepped inside. “Are Auntie and Uncle already asleep?”
“Mm, they go to bed early. I can’t come open the door for you every day. You should ask my mom to take you to get a spare key made later.” Wu Jie walked to the water dispenser and filled half a cup, glancing at Xie An’yu while drinking.
Xie An’yu remained silent. Wu Jie also guessed he wouldn’t go to her mother to talk about this—taking even the slightest advantage of others seemed like it would cost him half his life. How could he possibly speak up for such a thing?
Holding her cup, Wu Jie felt conflicted. To be fair, she had a good impression of her cousin—quiet, but with impeccable character and good looks. Still, a good impression didn’t mean she held no resentment toward him.
After all, Xie An’yu’s arrival had disrupted the peace in her home.
After a long silence, Wu Jie finally spoke: “Forget it, you can use mine. I’ll leave the key under the doormat. Oh, by the way, how’s that mini-program going for you?”
“Someone placed an order yesterday.”
“Really?” Wu Jie was a little surprised. “Didn’t you just register?”
She walked closer, holding her cup. “How much did you earn?”
“Over twenty yuan.”
A faint smile appeared on Wu Jie’s face. “Not bad. How long did you chat for 20 yuan?”
“Half an hour.”
“That’s pretty expensive.”
Xie An’yu silently agreed; it was indeed expensive. Based on the few sentences he’d exchanged with the customer yesterday, each word was worth over two yuan.
Wu Jie raised an eyebrow. “Keep at it. Who knows, you might strike it rich with this.”
It was the first time Xie An’yu had seen such varied expressions on her face—one moment slightly impatient, the next playfully amused. Xie An’yu wasn’t dense, just reserved. Wu Jie was a person who didn’t hide her feelings; happy or unhappy, it was all there. He could sense her strange, complicated emotions.
The [Limited-Time Boyfriend] mini-program only allows clients to place orders when the staff is logged in. Only after logging into the backend would the staff status show as online. If the staff was offline, it would show as unavailable and no orders could be placed.
It was a bit late today. After washing up, Xie An’yu went straight to bed without fiddling with his phone. The restaurant will open tomorrow, and he has to go early to help.
***
The next morning, Xie Li got up earlier than usual. She had just finished preparing breakfast when Xie An’yu emerged from his room.
Xie An’yu was surprised. “Auntie, you’re up so early today?”
Xie Li handed him a bowl of congee[mfn]粥 (zhōu): Congee is a form of savory rice porridge made by boiling rice in a large amount of water until the rice softens. Depending on rice-water ratio, the thickness of congee varies from a Western oatmeal porridge to a gruel. Since the history of rice cultivation in Asia stretches back to the Baiyue-inhabited lower Yangtze circa 10000 BC, congee is unlikely to have appeared before that date. Congee is typically served with side dishes, or it can be topped with meat, fish and pickled vegetables.
[/mfn]. “If I didn’t get up early, you’d have slipped out again. You’re always gone before dawn and back after dark—I barely see you. What time did you get back yesterday?”
“Around ten o’clock.”
“Go wash your face first, then come have breakfast.”
“Mm.”
It had been three days since his arrival, and today was the first time Xie An’yu changed his clothes—a gray-green hooded sweatshirt and faded loose jeans. The previous two days, he’d worn the same tracksuit.
Xie Li passed him chopsticks and asked. “Where are the clothes you changed out of? I’ll put them in the washing machine for you.”
Xie An’yu took the chopsticks. “I already washed them when I took a shower yesterday.”
“I’ll take you to buy some new clothes this weekend; I’ve been too busy these past couple of days,” Xie Li said, clasping her hands on the table. “Are you adapting well to the restaurant work? Are you helping in the kitchen?”
Xie An’yu nodded. “It’s alright. I’ve done this kind of work before.”
Xie Li nodded slightly, forcing a faint smile. Truth be told, Xie An’yu finding a job on his own didn’t make her particularly happy. As an elder, she felt somewhat embarrassed about the situation. She was Xie An’yu’s biological aunt, yet when her nephew—who had no one to rely on back home—came to the city to stay with her, she couldn’t properly settle him and could only barely provide a temporary lodging. Anyone in her position would feel uncomfortable.
She would have preferred Xie An’yu to just stay at home without contributing anything.
Xie Li was lost in thought for a moment. Meanwhile, Xie An’yu had already finished his congee, quickly stuffed the bun into his mouth, and stood up. “Auntie, I’m heading out now. I need to go to the shop early to help.”
“Eating so fast,” Xie Li hadn’t even reacted, and Xie An’yu’s bowl was already empty. He picked up the bowl to take it to the kitchen to wash, but Xie Li stopped him. “Don’t worry about cleaning up—leave it to me. You should get going. Be careful on your way—oh, where’s the restaurant you’re working at? How are you getting there?”
Xie An’yu replied, “It’s not far. I walk there.”
***
The restaurant was packed on its opening day, but from what Xie An’yu observed, most of the customers seemed to be the boss’s acquaintances. They walked in calling him ‘Brother Lu’ with a familiarity, though they didn’t seem like ordinary folks—their mannerisms were exaggerated, their attitudes cocky, like they were part of the underworld.
There was a large flow of customers on opening day. When Xie An’yu went out to move the ingredients sent by the vendors, he saw Yue Lai struggling. Being deaf and mute, Yue Lai already had difficulty communicating, and the sheer number of customers only made things worse.
After carrying the supplies to the kitchen, Xie An’yu went to the cashier to find the boss. “Brother Lu, there are a lot of people today. How about I switch places with Yue Lai—I’m worried he might not be able to handle it.”
The boss glanced up from the computer, scanning the dining area before nodding. “Alright, go take over for him.”
Xie An’yu walked over to Yue Lai and tapped his shoulder. Deaf people can’t rely on sound to sense their surroundings, so unexpected touches often startle them. When Xie An’yu patted Yue Lai, he was so startled that his whole body trembled.
Xie An’yu instinctively said, “I’m sorry.” Then he pulled out his old flip phone to type a message.
【Sorry for startling you. Go help in the kitchen—Brother Lu asked me to take over】
He took the order pad from Yue Lai, who hesitated briefly before nodding and heading to the back kitchen.
As luck would have it, the moment Xie An’yu switched positions, he encountered a difficult customer.
No wonder he had the impression that most of the people who came to support the boss were shady characters—this one was clearly trouble. When he approached a customer with his usual expressionless face to take an order, the customer became irritated, yelling towards the back, “Brother Lu, where’d you find this waiter? Looks like he’s taking orders for dead people with that grim face!”
Xie An’yu didn’t want to cause trouble on the first day of business, so he calmly stated, “You’ve misunderstood.”
The man—with chestnut-colored curls and sunken cheeks—narrowed his eyes and smirked. “Pretty bold for a little pretty boy, aren’t you?”
Xie An’yu quickly realized the man simply didn’t like him. At this point, anything he said would be twisted into provocation, so he chose to remain silent.
“What now?” The boss walked over with a frown, seemingly accustomed to the curly-haired troublemaker’s antics. His tone was impolite. “Just eat your damn food. Why are you acting crazy again?”
The curly-haired man asked him, “Brother Lu, where did you find this guy—acting all high and mighty with his nose in the air, doesn’t even smile at customers.”
“Do you care if he smiles or not? Are you here to eat or to visit a brothel? I’m telling you, it’s my first day of business, don’t cause trouble for me.”
“Got it, Brother Lu, I wouldn’t dare cause trouble for you.” The curly-haired man tapped his slender fingers on the menu a couple of times. “Hey, little handsome brother, recommend something—any signature dishes?”
Xie An’yu flipped open the menu and pointed out a few signature dishes. The curly-haired man didn’t bother him further.
***
In the following days, the boss noticed Yue Lai really struggled with customer interactions, so he had Xie An’yu take over his position and moved Yue Lai to the kitchen to help with washing dishes and prepping vegetables. There were only two waiters in the shop—the other one was the boss’s relative.
One day, Xie An’yu asked the boss for time off in advance. “Brother Lu, I have something to take care of tonight—can I leave an hour early?”
The boss sat at the cash register doing accounts, a cigarette dangling from his lips, not even looking up as he asked, “What’s up? Got a date?”
Xie An’yu replied, “Meeting a friend, not a date.”
“Fine, leave when it’s time.”
“Thank you, Brother Lu.”
Around 8 o’clock in the evening, Xie An’yu started packing up early to leave. He’d brought a clean change of clothes, planning to change before meeting Guo Tianyang—he didn’t want to show up smelling like kitchen grease.
Yue Lai happened to see Xie An’yu changing when he went to the break room to get a water cup. He gave him a puzzled look. They’d been working together for a while now, and sometimes Xie An’yu could guess what Yue Lai wanted to say without needing him to type it out.
After changing, Xie An’yu pulled out his phone to type.
【I’m meeting a friend tonight. Asked the boss for an hour off】
【So you’re leaving now?】
Xie An’yu nodded.
Yue Lai’s expression shifted slightly. Maybe it was just his imagination, but Xie An’yu thought he caught a flicker of unease in his eyes.
For the past week, they’d been going home together after work every day—Yue Lai rode his electric scooter and would drop Xie An’yu off along the way.
Xie An’yu typed, 【What’s wrong?】
Yue Lai Yue Lai shook his head at the phone and smiled.
【Nothing. It’s just that these past few days, I’ve always gone home with you. Having to go back alone today suddenly feels a bit odd. You should go quickly, don’t be late】
***
Outside the Jinas Banquet Center, guests streamed out of the grand hall in a bustling crowd. Yu Feng and Zhou Yi were among them, following the flow toward the exit.
“Head straight to the villa?” Zhou Yi asked.
“What about the others?”
“They’ve probably already gone. Didn’t Tan Kai say we’d head straight to the villa right after the banquet? Doesn’t matter—let’s just go first.”
The two found their car. Zhou Yi slid into the driver’s seat with a laugh. “Rich folks who hit it big really live differently. That Tan Kai, his engagement party might as well be a wedding—putting on such a grand show.”
Tan Kai was an old university classmate of theirs. After graduating from college, he’d gone into business and was now a young entrepreneur with considerable assets. His fiancée was his childhood sweetheart—she’d stuck by him through thick and thin, from his humble beginnings. With such deep affection and a wonderful partner, of course the engagement ceremony couldn’t be half-hearted.
Yu Feng and Zhou Yi were about to head to a villa for a bachelor party organized by Tan Kai, who had invited quite a few familiar friends, both male and female. It was unclear where he’d picked up such a tacky tradition—throwing a bachelor party on the day of the engagement banquet.
Zhou Yi was a little puzzled. “He’s throwing a bachelor party, and his fiancée doesn’t have any thoughts about it?”
After all, Zhou Yi was a professor who spent his days interacting with students. Though sometimes a bit unconventional, his mindset was quite upright, and certain convoluted ideas simply didn’t occur to him.
Yu Feng said, “This party is for us, not for him.”
Zhou Yi mulled over his words for a moment before it dawned on him. “So it’s not a bachelor party—it’s a mixer.”
“I’m guessing his fiancée probably invited quite a few people on her side too.”
Zhou Yi laughed. “No wonder. Of all the things to imitate, he had to pick up the Westerners’ habits.”
Truthfully, Yu Feng wasn’t keen on going. He wasn’t fond of such gatherings.
Zhou Yi glanced at him and, seeing the look on Yu Feng’s face as if he’d eaten spoiled food, scoffed. “We haven’t even gone yet, and you’re already making that face. Here, let Professor Zhou teach you. If you don’t want to force yourself into awkward small talk, just show them that photo—the one of that Xiao Dao guy, the staff from that mini-program. Flash the photo and say you’re already taken. I guarantee you’ll have a peaceful night.”
Yu Feng chuckled. “Did you ask for his permission before telling me to spread rumors?”
“What’s the big deal? A virtual boyfriend is still a boyfriend. Just place an order later, and it’ll be perfectly justified.”
Yu Feng nodded slowly, offering a half-hearted compliment. “Mm, as expected of our Professor Zhou.”
Zhou Yi grinned, looking straight ahead. “Damn right.”
***
Guo Tianyang had arranged to meet Xie An’yu at a Starbucks near the restaurant. Xie An’yu walked up to the counter and glanced at the menu. The array of drinks—none of which he’d ever tasted or even heard of—left him dazzled, and the prices were beyond his comprehension. On Shuangye Isle, the most expensive cup of milk tea wouldn’t exceed ten yuan.
The barista noticed Xie An’yu staring at the menu for a long time and reminded him, “You can order through the WeChat mini-program here.”
Xie An’yu snapped out of it and realized that most people around him were indeed ordering via their phones. He realized he truly was lagging behind the times, with limited exposure and understanding. Before coming to Beicheng, he hadn’t even known smartphones could do so many things.
Shuangye Isle, after all, was just an island far removed from the bustle of the world, its pace of development incomparable to a bustling metropolis. Lifestyles that had already become mainstream outside the island hadn’t even fully caught on there.
Xie An’yu took a photo of the menu on the wall and sent it to Guo Tianyang, asking what he’d like to drink.
His smartphone vibrated in his pocket. Thinking it was a message from Guo Tianyang, he pulled it out, only to find a notification from the [Limited-Time Boyfriend] mini-program.
【Attention: Our system has detected that you have not logged in for 168 hours (7 working days). To avoid being flagged as an zombie account, please log in within the next 24 hours. Otherwise, your account will be suspended for three months.】
The author has something to say:
Professor Zhou: The seat at the head table is mine, no doubt about it.[mfn]T/N: I’m guessing this means ZY is taking credit for being a matchmaker between YF and XAY, so when they had their wedding, he had to take the front seat.[/mfn]
[dropdown title=”List of Idiom in Chapter 07″]
陰陽怪氣 (yīn yáng guài qì): eccentric; peculiar; passive aggressive; mystifying; Describe attitude quirks, cold words, unpredictable.發家致富 (fā jiā zhì fù): enrich one’s family; enrich oneself; build up the family fortunes; make one’s family’s fortune; feather one’s (own) nest; build up family wealth; to make a family rich by developing a family business.
早出晚歸 (zǎo chū wǎn guī): to leave early and return late (idiom); to leave early in the morning and return late at night; leave home at the crack of dawn and return by starlight; be gone from early morning until late at night; be out from dawn till dusk.
無依無靠 (wú yī wú kào): to have no one to depend on; to be helpless; no one to rely on (idiom); on one’s own; orphaned; left to one’s own devices; helpless; without support; alone and friendless; without family or friends; isolated; abandoned; expressing the isolation of individuals or groups in terms of material support, spiritual sustenance, etc.
拿腔拿調 (ná qiāng ná diào): speak affectedly; put on airs; assume an affected manner; be pretentious; feign sophistication. A derogatory Chinese idiom that describes the deliberate use of a specific tone of voice. In language practice, it can be used to criticize the exaggerated vocalization method that deviates from the natural sense of language in reading teaching, and it is also used by scholars to criticize the affected singing style caused by language defects in song performances. In the contemporary context, the term is often used to criticize pretentious expressions in professional fields, such as in self-media comments criticizing the phenomenon of abusing academic terms to package empty content.
焦頭爛額 (jiāo tóu làn é): lit. badly burned about the head (from trying to put out a fire) (idiom); to be scorched by the flames; fig. hard-pressed; under pressure (from a heavy workload, creditors etc); in a sorry plight; overwrought; in trouble; overwhelmed.
手忙腳亂 (shǒu máng jiǎo luàn): to act in an disorderly and flustered manner; to act with confusion; to be in a flurry; to be flustered; be in a rush/flurry; be thrown into confusion; be in a frantic rush; be in a great bustle/hurry; describes being in a panic and not knowing what to do.
心平氣和 (xīn píng qì hé): tranquil and even-tempered (idiom); calmly and without stress; even-tempered and good-humored; be in a calm/placid mood.
青梅竹馬 (qīng méi zhú mǎ): 青梅竹馬 (qīng méi zhú mǎ): lit. green plums and a bamboo horse (idiom); fig. a girl and a boy playing innocently together; childhood sweethearts; a couple who grew up as childhood friends; a man and a woman who had an innocent affection for each other in childhood; from a poem by Tang dynasty poet Li Bai: 妾髮初覆額，折花門前劇。郎騎竹馬來，繞床弄青梅。同居長干里，兩小無嫌猜。十四為君婦，羞顏未嘗開。, My hair had hardly covered my forehead, I was picking flowers, playing by my door. When you, my lover, on a bamboo horse, came trotting in circles and throwing green plums. We lived near together on a lane in Ch’ang-kan, both of us young and happy-hearted. At fourteen I became your wife, so bashful that I dared not smile. […] The same poem was also the source of the idiom 兩小無猜 (liǎng xiǎo wú cāi), which has a very similar meaning.
白手起家 (bái shǒu qǐ jiā): to go from rags to riches; to start an enterprise from scratch; to build up from nothing; to start from scratch; start off with nothing at all to one’s name; start without money or social position; be self-made; starting a business from scratch with little foundation or very poor conditions.
恍然大悟 (huǎng rán dà wù): to suddenly realise; to suddenly see the light; suddenly realize what has happened; to suddenly understand or realize something.
名正言順 (míng zhèng yán shùn): lit. legitimate name, smooth wording; to be fitting and proper; to be perfectly justified or deserved; in a way that justifies the use of the term; genuine; proper; in a way that conforms to logic; justifiable; appropriate; perfectly legitimate; wellgrounded; in accordance with reason; originally means that one’s status is legitimate and one’s words are reasonable. Later, it often refers to doing something legitimate and reasonable.
眼花繚亂 (yǎn huā liáo luàn): to be dazzled and bewildered by the sight of something; the eyes are confused by the complexity of things. It is a metaphor for things that are too complicated to distinguish clearly.
非我莫屬 (fēi wǒ mò shǔ): it must be me; no one else but me; I’m the only one qualified; It’s my responsibility; I’m the best fit; It’s up to me; the ownership of things cannot be interfered with by others. It is often used to express the absolute ownership of a specific thing.
[/dropdown]Check out my completed & current project at my carrd. If you like my translation, you can buy me coffee at Ko-fi~ Thank you.
