Chapter 3

It had been almost five years since he'd had a hangover.

Song Qiuhan opened his eyes and felt like his head was about to explode. He closed them again for a moment to adjust, then slowly opened them. The aroma of coffee wafted through the air. He got dressed and went downstairs to see Aunt Shang busy in the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee, but before he could sip it, Aunt Shang snatched it away: "I've told you so many times not to drink on an empty stomach!" Turning around, she handed him a glass of warm water: "Here, drink this."

Song Qiuhan gave a wry smile, drank the warm water, and went to wash up.

"Are you going out today? What do you want for dinner?" Aunt Shang followed him and asked.

"You don't have to go to the company today. Aunt Shang will take care of it. Just do less."

"You won't give Mr. Song a reply?" The Mr. Song Aunt Shang was referring to was Song Qiuhan's father. Since last week, she had been demanding an answer from Song Qiuhan to discuss his engagement with Fang Jiali. "No need." Song Qiuhan placed his hand on the doorknob. "Auntie Shang, please tell my father I don't agree. If he likes Fang Jiali, he should marry her himself." Then he gently closed the door. www.xiakexsw.com

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The man in the mirror, his eyes red from a hangover. A wisp of blue sideburns sprouted from his face. He smeared shaving cream on his face, and the moment he put the razor to it, he suddenly remembered Lin Chun'er's small, dark face with a smooth forehead. Lin Chun'er had changed. In high school, she was a soft, quirky, and mischievous little girl. Back then, Song Qiuhan often wanted to poke her face with his own stubble, hard, to make her pink face blush for him. For a long, long time, he was ashamed of such a youthful, unspeakable fantasy.

Now, Lin Chun'er is as healthy and lively as a leopard running across the African savannah.

Is she doing well?

Since yesterday, this question has been popping up in Song Qiuhan's mind. Aunt Shang knocked on the door. "If you don't come out soon, the porridge will get cold." He realized more than ten minutes had passed. He quickly packed up and left. Seeing Aunt Shang's inquiring look, he smiled and said, "I was delayed by answering a few messages." He picked up the bowl of porridge and took a few sips before setting it down, feeling a little apologetic. "I drank too much. I don't have much appetite right now. It's a shame you've been busy all morning."

"It's okay. I only made a little." Aunt Shang put away the dishes and sat down across from him. "Qiuhan, Aunt Shang has thought about it. You should call your father yourself. It's not good for you to be stuck like this."

"If I call him myself, he'll start arguing with me again." Ever since his mother's death, Song Qiuhan had rarely spoken to his father. They couldn't get along, and his temper had become increasingly erratic in recent years.

"Is there anything between father and son that can't be discussed calmly?"

Song Qiuhan understood Aunt Shang's dilemma and nodded. "Okay, Aunt Shang, I'll call him myself."

He stood up and walked to the study, where he sat in front of the computer. He held his phone for a long time, then gave up and called Fang Jiali instead. "What's wrong?" Fang Jiali asked unhappily.

"My father's been talking about getting engaged again. Have you been to see him lately?"

"Yes. With my dad."

"I've talked to you about this. I have no plans to get married."

"Neither do I, Song Qiuhan. My dad doesn't matter. Go deal with him. I'm going to bed." Fang Jiali said, then hung up. She knew in her heart that Song Qiuhan was cold-blooded and had never seen him love anyone. Even if she wanted to marry him, it wouldn't be under pressure.

Song Qiuhan clutched her phone, her heart agitated.

Chen Kuannian called, and he began by complaining about Lin Chun'er: "What's wrong with that bastard Lin Chun'er? We used to be good friends, but now she's ignoring me? I've called her over a dozen times, and she finally replied..."

...When Song Qiuhan heard Lin Chun'er's name, she thought of her smooth forehead and the way she lowered her head to drink soup. How hungry must one be to have such an appetite? "Why aren't you talking?" Chen Kuannian muttered for a long time, realizing he was talking to nothing.

"I'm listening to you."

"Oh. Don't you think she's cold-blooded? It's not the way I imagined meeting an old friend! If she were the same back then, she would have run over to hug me!" Chen Kuannian felt a sense of aggrieved. Before returning home, he'd made a list of the people he most wanted to see, and Lin Chun'er was at the top of the list. After much searching, he found her. The moment he got her phone number, he was incredibly excited, but Lin Chun'er remained completely calm.

"I don't think she's cold-blooded," Song Qiuhan said. "We haven't seen each other in so many years. Our lives have been different. Why would you expect her to be like you?"

...Chen Kuannian was stunned by Song Qiuhan's words. What was going on today? He'd been lectured by both Lin Chun'er and Song Qiuhan, and yet he genuinely thought they made sense? "Forget it, let's not talk about Lin Chun'er. Are you going to a cocktail party tonight?" Chen Kuannian was referring to a gathering for collectors. "Find a chance to sell off my uncle's collection."

"If you like my dad's collection, you can talk to him yourself. I'm not going to the party. I drank too much last night and have a headache. I'm going to prepare some light porridge and side dishes to nourish my stomach tonight." He added, "I don't recommend you go after my dad. If he complains to your dad, you'll be in big trouble."

"Okay! Then I won't go either. I'll go to your light porridge and side dishes."

"Can you leave me alone?"

"No."

Song Qiuhan smiled bitterly and shook his head. He hung up the phone and casually opened the class chat. He found that Chen Kuannian had renamed the group: "Qa Xue Tong Shao Nian." This usually mischievous man had changed his appearance. I wondered who he was playing this affectionate and righteous play for. The group was bustling with chatter. Song Qiuhan thought back to Lin Chuner's words yesterday, wishing Mr. Chen all the best. He clicked on her profile picture, which showed an endless highway, snow-capped ahead, its dark yellow markings stretching into the distance.

Lonely traveler.

Lin Chuner no longer expressed herself. She had only said that one sentence in the group chat, and then she hadn't appeared again.

Back then, she'd chattered like a rapid-fire machine gun, babbling incessantly in his ear, from astronomy and geography to gossip and the five elements. The young Lin Chuner's boisterous brilliance had the young Song Qiuhan overwhelmed, and he avoided her while eagerly anticipating seeing her. His heart began to race the moment her laughter reached the end of the long corridor, and it didn't calm down until long after the sound faded.

Now she spoke very little. Yesterday, she didn't say much during dinner. Even when he stood there waiting for her to come out and hand her a bottle of warm pear soup, she remained silent. Song Qiuhan had imagined a reunion with her, but his scenario was different from Chen Kuannian's. He didn't expect Lin Chun'er to run toward him in tears. He simply wanted them to sit down and chat about their experiences over the years after the surprise. As Lin Chun'er entered the private kitchen and turned the corner to park, Song Qiuhan stood under the eaves, watching her. You see, some people, even after not seeing them for over a decade, even if everyone looks different, he still recognizes them instantly.

Song Qiuhan closed WeChat and turned on his computer. He had three meetings today, and then he had to fly to Guangzhou, Shenzhen, and Chongqing to inspect projects. It was a packed schedule. He'd gotten used to being busy these days; he couldn't stop.

"Just like the schoolmates," how did Chen Kuannian come up with the name for the group?

Indeed, it began to rain in the evening.

Chun'er opened her eyes and heard the sound of rain outside, rustling against the leaves, bringing a chilly autumn air. She stood up, wary of disturbing Xiaomei, so she tiptoed out. She brewed herself a cup of black tea, then wrapped herself in the quilt and sat on the windowsill, watching the rain. The tea in front of her steamed, a thin layer of mist covering the glass. She reached out and wrote in the mist, "Sister."

"Sister, I'm in Delingha tonight."

"Sister, tonight I don't care about humans. I only think of you."

"Who are you thinking of?" Xiaomei asked softly as she came in, rubbing her eyes. She couldn't hide it from her. Seeing Chun'er didn't answer, she plopped down across from her, picked up her teacup, and drank it all in one gulp. "Good tea. Was it sent by a tea farmer in Fujian?"

Chun'er nodded. "That last public welfare project sold out all their slow-selling Zhengshan Xiaozhong tea, and the farmer sent a lot to Xiaoxi."

"That's wonderful," Xiaomei gave Chun'er a thumbs-up. "Flatter!" Chun'er pressed her finger down. "The autumn rain brings a chill. Rainy days go perfectly with hot pot, grilled skewers, and goose stewed in an iron pot. Let's go! We can't let it go!"

"There's still so much left from lunch!" Xiaomei pointed to the refrigerator, where the leftovers were still.

"Then save them for tomorrow's lunch!" Chun'er pulled Xiaomei aside. "Hurry up, let's go get some spicy hot pot, or I won't forgive you!"

Xiaomei, unable to resist her, held her arm with an umbrella and headed out the door.

The rain gradually intensified.

The two of them shivered in unison, then smiled at each other. "You're right. We really have to have hot pot, grilled skewers, and iron-pot stewed goose today. Otherwise, we won't forgive ourselves." Xiaomei leaned her head on Chun'er's shoulder and suddenly asked, "Do you think it won't be just the two of us in the end?"

"You mean others are feeding their children while we're heading to a hot pot feast?"

"I mean, in this huge city, others have someone to cuddle with on rainy nights, while we can only eat spicy hot pot under umbrellas."

"How about I call Chen Kuannian and you cuddle with him tonight?" Chun'er teased. Even in the darkness, the doctor's face was still visible, and Chun'er laughed to herself. "If you ask me, each has its merits. We envy others for their harmonious marriages, while others envy us for being able to feed the whole family and keep them full. It's a rare freedom. No situation should be defined." Chun'er tilted her umbrella toward Xiaomei. "But tonight, I allow you to envy the life you don't have." She pulled out her phone, found Chen Kuannian, and typed, "It's raining. Wanna go get hot pot?"

"Who to send this to?"

"Chen Kuannian."

!!! Xiaomei blushed and stomped her foot. "Lin Chun'er, you're just messing around!"

Lin Chun'er handed her phone to Xiaomei, the words still lying in the input field, unsent. She leaned close to Xiaomei and asked with a smile, "Are you disappointed?"

Xiaomei glared at her, then turned, pulled out her phone, and sent a message: "It's raining, want to go get hot pot?"

"Who to send this to?"

"Song Qiuhan."

Lin Chun'er stamped her foot: "Xiaomei! You're just messing around!"

Xiaomei followed suit, holding her phone in front of Lin Chun'er. The message was already sent, lying in Xiaomei's chat box. Seeing Lin Chun'er's expression falter, Xiaomei laughed out loud: "Lin Chun'er, are you scared?"