◎“……Are you a pervert?”◎
After Qiu Xiangwei passed away, for a full two months, aside from basic needs like eating, drinking, sleeping, and other bodily functions, Lan Yan shut herself in her room the rest of the time.
Lan Junwen did not force her to go to school. He just called her out every morning for breakfast and would say things like, the weather was nice today with the sun out—did Yanyan want to go out for a stroll? Or, there was a light drizzle today, and the air felt refreshingly moist—did she want to take a walk by the river?
It was as if death had brought a solar eclipse upon the family. No one knew how long it would take before the sun escaped the shadowed realm and brought back the light.
One midnight, Lan Yan heard sobbing from outside her door. She quietly cracked the door open a sliver and saw Lan Junwen sitting in the dark living room, bawling his eyes out.
It was the first time she had seen her father—who had always been gentle and steadfast in her eyes—cry so desperately, as if at the end of his rope.
The next day, she walked out of her room hugging her plush penguin and told Lan Junwen that she was going back to school.
She handed the penguin to him and asked him to help dispose of it.
To the slightly puzzled Lan Junwen, she said: I don’t need it anymore.
Starting from age eight, Lan Yan had learned to forcibly wean herself off attachments she was powerless to keep.
Perhaps too much time had passed, but she had already forgotten how utterly hollow that feeling was—like a massive black hole had formed in her mind and heart, devouring anything thrown into it without escape.
Early in the morning, Lan Yan went to Sister Rong to pick up a not-too-difficult task: a fan face with only minor damage. With some overtime, she could finish it in two weeks.
From morning till night, she stayed in the Mounting Room. She got home at ten at night, took a quick shower, and crashed into bed, giving herself no chance to ruminate on her emotions.
Overnight, red lanterns hung along the street where Mend Orchid Studio was located. Only then did Lan Yan realize that the New Year was approaching.
Compared to those rigidly organized modern companies, Mend Orchid Studio always had a bit more human touch when it came to holiday schedules. They typically took off on the twenty-seventh of the twelfth lunar month and reported back on the tenth day after the New Year.
Chu Lansun told everyone to wrap up their work before the holiday as much as possible. Otherwise, with a half-month break in between, who knew what mishaps might befall the unfinished pieces if left sitting.
Chu Lansun used Zhou Wenshu’s old mishap as a counterexample: “Back when Wenshu interned here during summer break, he took three days off for something. When he came back, the painting’s core had gotten moldy from being cooped up.”
Zhou Wenshu: “……Master, you bring up this example every year. Can’t you pick a different one? And with all the junior brothers and sisters here, you’re making me lose face.”
Chu Lansun: “Wait until someone else screws up something this basic, then we’ll talk.”
Everyone burst into laughter.
Perhaps because the holiday was right around the corner, everyone’s mood was lighter and more cheerful than usual. Even the typically quiet Mounting Room buzzed a bit more with chatter, making it feel livelier.
Lan Yan stayed focused on her work the whole time, not joining in the merriment.
Zhou Wenshu walked over: “Senior Sister, I left Uncle’s down jacket on your seat in the upstairs office. I sent it out for dry cleaning before and only remembered to pick it up from the shop yesterday.”
She paused her movements. “You only wore it briefly; it didn’t need washing. How much was the dry cleaning? I’ll transfer you the money.”
“No need. I sent it with a bunch of other clothes; it wasn’t any trouble.”
“Then let me treat you to milk tea.”
“Sure.” Zhou Wenshu smiled.
He did not leave right away, hesitating a bit.
“Something else?” Lan Yan asked.
“No…” Zhou Wenshu scratched his forehead, sighed, and turned back to his mounting table.
Truth be told, Lan Yan’s mood lately was even gloomier than when she had broken up with her boyfriend. Several of the younger ones wanted to ask her for advice but held back, coming to him instead to find out what had happened.
How would he know? Everything had seemed fine on the day she returned from abroad—except for him, who was basically out of the running.
Zhou Wenshu wandered over to Xue Mengqiu and whispered, “Senior Sister, I feel like I might still have a shot.”
Xue Mengqiu rolled her eyes. “Get real. Zero progress after three months of spending every day together? I’d have more of a chance than you.”
Zhou Wenshu let out a wail.
On the twenty-sixth of the twelfth month, Lan Yan finished her work and handed it over to Sister Rong for inspection.
The next day, Mend Orchid Studio officially went on holiday.
Lan Yan did not want to go home so early, but Liang Xiaoxia’s birthday fell on the twenty-eighth, and by tradition, they always celebrated it for her the night before, on the twenty-seventh.
Liang Xiaoxia had never liked this birthday date much. She said that as a child, everyone at home was too busy with New Year preparations to pay her any attention.
Because of that, Lan Junwen always made a point to celebrate it grandly for her.
That morning on the twenty-seventh, Lan Yan packed up some things she would need over the New Year and returned home.
Liang Xiaoxia had already left for some company business.
Lan Junwen left half an hour later than usual. Before going, he asked Lan Yan to help order a cake, maybe swing by the supermarket for some streamers, balloons, and the like to help decorate: “Yanyan, you have good taste. Whatever cake you pick, your aunt is sure to love it.”
“No need to buy groceries?”
“I bought the veggies yesterday. I’ll just pick up a live fish on my way back from work.”
Lan Yan nodded. Shopping for produce really wasn’t her strong suit. “Anything else?”
“Some snacks and drinks—pick stuff you like.” Lan Junwen rolled up his sleeves and checked his watch. “I’m heading out. Text me if anything comes up.”
Lan Yan murmured her assent, her gaze still fixed on the watch on Lan Junwen’s wrist.
He used to wear an old quartz watch with a metal band scratched all over—older than her, a birthday gift from Qiu Xiangwei back in the day.
But not anymore. Now it was a mechanical watch with a black leather strap.
She did not know when he had switched it.
Lan Junwen grabbed his briefcase and headed out. While changing shoes at the entryway, he remembered something else: “Jingchuan said he’d come back to help with preparations too. He should be here any minute. Wait for him and go together; it’ll be easier with him driving.”
“…Oh.”
The door shut, and the house fell instantly quiet.
Lan Yan headed to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge door. It was packed full; nothing seemed missing.
A moment later, she realized how silly it was to just stand there waiting. Did she have to do exactly as Lan Junwen said?
She shut the fridge door, slipped on her coat, grabbed her keys, changed shoes, and headed out.
She had gone down half a flight when she heard footsteps from below.
She slowed her pace hesitantly, and those footsteps slowed too.
She shoved her hands in her pockets, kept her head down, and resumed her normal stride.
In her peripheral vision, the figure wore a black coat over a matching turtleneck sweater.
She did not let her gaze shift even a fraction, brushing past him as if he were nothing.
He stopped, then turned and followed her down the stairs.
Compared to before, Liang Jingchuan’s steps lacked that leisurely, almost teasing “following” rhythm.
Downstairs, Lan Yan fished her keys from her pocket, tapped the iron gate, and reached for the switch.
“…” A static shock zapped her fingertip, making her jolt.
She stepped out without looking back, regardless of whether the person behind had followed, and let the gate go.
A while later, she heard it clang shut.
At the neighborhood entrance, the black SUV parked by the roadside beeped as it unlocked.
In that moment of hesitation, the person who had been trailing her overtook her, went to the driver’s side, opened the door, ducked in, and started the engine.
But it idled without moving.
The hazard lights flashed on, blinking steadily.
In the end, Lan Yan walked over and pulled open the rear door.
No one spoke on the way to the supermarket.
With the New Year approaching, the big hypermarket was swamped with shoppers. They circled the parking garage several times before finding a spot.
After getting out, she walked ahead as usual.
At the supermarket entrance, just as she reached for a cart, Liang Jingchuan beat her to it.
Right inside was a section for New Year decorations like spring couplets and streamers.
Lan Yan carefully selected a pair of red-backed golden couplets, a bag of balloons, and a bag of window decals.
Liang Jingchuan stood by, gaze fixed elsewhere, offering no comment.
She tossed her picks into the cart, and he pushed it onward.
Passing a rack up ahead, she spotted discounted chocolate and paused.
New Year special edition, festive gold-and-red bucket packaging. She picked one box and looked up—Liang Jingchuan was gone.
He must have had something he wanted to buy. Lan Yan did not look for him and headed to the beverage aisle.
There was a mango milk tasting station. She tried a small cup; it tasted pretty good, so she grabbed a pack. Small bottles, six to a pack, not too heavy.
Carrying it, she kept browsing.
Something brushed her sleeve. She turned to see the shopping cart.
It held what she had put in earlier; nothing added. She placed her drinks and chocolate bucket inside.
After that, it continued the same way: she picked items, and Liang Jingchuan silently pushed the cart alongside.
She had thought there was nothing to buy, but caught up in the festive vibe, she ended up filling half the cart with odds and ends.
Passing the flower section, Lan Yan texted Lan Junwen to ask if he had bought flowers for Liang Xiaoxia. No reply; he was probably busy.
She picked out over twenty stems of pink roses. If he had not prepared any, she would send them in his name; if he had, she would give them herself. Flowers were always better in abundance.
Packaging took a while. While waiting, Lan Yan pulled out her phone to pick an online cake shop and order a cake.
The cake layers came in several flavors. She recalled Liang Xiaoxia hated a certain fruit one—grapes or blueberries? Without thinking, she blurted, “Your mom…”
She cut herself off abruptly.
The air stilled. Lan Yan could not help glancing at Liang Jingchuan.
Only now had she looked directly at him all day.
His expression was even more indifferent than she had imagined, tinged with a hint of impatience.
She looked away. Not minding whether it was grapes or blueberries, she safely chose strawberry mousse to be sure.
Once the flowers were wrapped, they headed to checkout.
After scanning everything, Liang Jingchuan pulled out his payment code, grabbed the two shopping bags, and strode off—crisp and efficient, as if his patience had run dry.
Left at the register was just the bouquet.
Lan Yan picked it up and followed.
They returned the same way, still without a word.
Back at the neighborhood, Liang Jingchuan fetched the bags from the trunk and hurried toward the entrance.
At the door, he shifted both bags to one hand, fumbled in his pocket, and pulled out the access card.
By the time he fished it out, Lan Yan had reached the entrance too.
He opened the door and went in, just like her—not looking back to see if she followed, letting it go.
The buffer spring did not close it too quickly. Lan Yan caught it with her palm and entered the building.
Once inside, she stuffed the perishables into the fridge, then started decorating.
The balloon bag came with a pump. She fitted a balloon on, inflated it to size, removed it, and tied it off.