Her sixth sense told Li Xia they were hiding something from her.
She didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but suddenly, the guilt of deceiving them eased a bit in her heart.
She decided to ask Qu Shuxin first.
Qu Shuxin explained that Li Dayong was planning to learn some new skills elsewhere. “He’s got to check out some shops for that.”
“Really?”
Li Xia didn’t buy it. She hauled out a Buddhist scripture. “Grandma, do you remember the Bodhisattva’s Ten Precepts?”
Qu Shuxin paused, her graying head tilting. “You’ve learned to be cheeky, girl. Would your grandma lie to you?”
“Then what’s this?” Li Xia unfolded Zhao Xiaolan’s handwriting and held it up in front of Qu Shuxin, pointing at it. “Grandma, what do you say my mom wrote here?”
Qu Shuxin held the paper at arm’s length and squinted at it for a long moment before mumbling in her thick accent, “I don’t know.”
Li Xia couldn’t get anywhere with her, so she dropped it. When Zhao Xiaolan came back, Li Xia tried probing indirectly, but their stories matched word for word.
Li Xia laughed. “Mom, Grandma’s turned into you and Dad’s official spokesperson.”
Zhao Xiaolan shot back, “Talk is cheap, but facts are hard as iron. I’m ready for all the doubting from someone like you.”
Li Xia tsked. “No secrets between family, and you’re still keeping them from me. What kind of project takes color and age into account?”
“Look at that trust level of yours,” Zhao Xiaolan replied without missing a beat. “Fish!”
“? Fish?”
Zhao Xiaolan gave her a sidelong glance. “Stop studying us all the time. Have you told Little Xue about coming over for the Dragon Boat Festival yet?”
Li Xia twisted her hands together. “…Not yet.”
“Put some effort into it. Today I ordered fresh bamboo leaves in the neighborhood group buy. When I went to pick them up, I ran into Auntie Wang. She said she wanted to introduce you to someone. I quickly told her Xia Xia already has a boyfriend and he’s coming over for the Dragon Boat Festival. Auntie Wang said it was a shame—this one had really good prospects. Talk about bad timing…”
Zhao Xiaolan’s voice buzzed in her mind like an accelerating pirate ship, swinging Li Xia’s heart from one side to the other. Two extremes, neither a good option. Tell him, and it’d be out in the open nakedly; go on the blind date, and wait to be appraised like merchandise. Don’t tell him? Well, don’t tell him then—stealth it out for a couple more days.
Twenty-five hours in, her phone was still silent.
Bored out of her mind, she scrolled through their chat history and unwittingly went all the way back to the first day they’d become friends. F had said, Wait until I’m back in the country to decide. It’ll take a few more days.
Back in the country?
A few days?
Were “a few days” abroad actually a month?
He could’ve just lied to her outright, but he’d come up with a plausible excuse instead.
How laughable.
In that instant, Li Xia understood everything.
She felt like it was time for her to do something.
…
After dinner, a few raindrops spattered against the window glass. Zhao Xiaolan called for Li Xia to go downstairs and wheel the electric scooter into the shed. Li Xia agreed.
As soon as she stepped out, Zhao Xiaolan tiptoed lightly into the study. She swiftly gathered up the drawings from the desk and bookshelf, then stuffed them under the pillow in the bedroom. From across the room, Qu Shuxin called out that she was too careless. “Just like when you were little—no secrets at all. Anyone could see how much money or sense you had in your pocket. I was afraid you’d give it away!”
Zhao Xiaolan tilted her head back and laughed. “That’s because you’re not playing along. Seventy-something and still got the energy to join our game.”
Qu Shuxin snorted. “What game? This is for our Xia Xia’s happiness. She’s a grown woman now—you can’t even hide a surprise.”
Li Xia went downstairs. The ground was already quite damp, and the streetlights cast glowing curtains of rain, carrying the full flavor of summer. Coming out for some fresh air made her cells come alive, her thoughts flowing freely.
Even Li Dayong could let a turtle starve to death—she didn’t believe fish would survive any better. Since Zhao Xiaolan wouldn’t spill, Li Xia stopped digging.
She parked the scooter in the shed and had just lifted her foot when a faint rustling sound came from below, followed by a soft, glutinous meow. Between the wheels, Li Xia spotted half a cat silhouette and quickly recognized it as the little orange cat she’d tamed and gotten fixed. She pulled some sausage and portable cat food from the basket and set them on the ground.
In the past, she’d had Bread on a leash, and the kittens wouldn’t come near. Li Xia always set the food down, stood up, and left without lingering.
This time, she crouched down and noticed it had brought a new friend. Li Xia’s eyes lit up—it was a long-haired little white cat with heterochromatic eyes like a mandarin duck’s, looking utterly noble.
“Is this your girlfriend? She’s so pretty,” she said, scratching under the little orange cat’s chin. “You lucky boy!”
Without ceremony, she reached out to pet them both. “Come on, rub up against some peach blossom luck.”
Then she added bitterly, “Online ones don’t count!”
The kittens looked up and meowed at her. Li Xia felt like she’d met a kindred spirit. “What, you agree? I’m right, aren’t I? Putting your feelings on some stranger—doesn’t that sound especially stupid?”
The little orange cat meowed again, as if by magic.
Li Xia kept talking to herself. “I’m not really mad, actually. People have to eat a loss before they learn from it… and eat a full one to really wise up…”
Just then, before the words were out, her pocket buzzed repeatedly. Li Xia stood and pulled out her phone, figuring it was another overtime notice.
When she unlocked it, she froze.
Dizzy with shock, she watched as F’s messages popped up one after another on the screen, like a bright green tide surging over hungrily until it stopped at “You have 29 unread messages.” She tapped in—
“Finally got my phone back! What a rotten day—client suddenly dragged me into the mountains. Friend drove my car back, phone left in it.”
“Teacher Lizi, whatcha doing?”
“No signal???”
“1”
“So vibrant red”
“I hate it”
“[Location]”
“Guess I’ll just show you the mountain scenery from today. It’s gorgeous—here’s Val di Mello, a nature reserve.”
“Hey, a little squirrel just hopped past my feet.”
“No signal again till I’m down the mountain…”
“But I brought my camera, so immersive photography time…”
“So boring”
…
“You off work yet?”
“Might have to break my promise. Really sorry.”
…
“Mental state good. Just picked some wild fruit—feeling like a mountain wildman.”
“Missing the motherland and 5G”
…
The messages from the past ten-plus hours crashed over her all at once. Li Xia slowly scrolled to the bottom, and just as she finished, new ones popped up.
【Teacher Lizi?】
【Finally got signal】
【You there?】
Li Xia hadn’t replied yet when a voice call came through. The ringtone was chaotic; she didn’t want to pick up. She’d planned to tell him about Bread at noon, but this cliff-edge disappearance felt like a wad of colorless cotton stuffed in her mouth.
Li Xia hit decline.
A message came right away:
【Sorry, today was a real accident. First client meeting, then reshoot in the mountains. Should’ve warned you—that’s on me. Won’t happen again.】
【Teacher Lizi, can you pick up? If you don’t want to talk, just listen.】
【Don’t ignore me】
Li Xia couldn’t tell how much truth was in that urgency and explanation. When the call rang again, she answered but stayed silent.
No surprise from the guy who’d made her heart skip—it was F’s voice, as captivating as ever. Li Xia’s heart clenched tight. He apologized, and she mumbled a cursory “Mm.” Hearing her response, he seemed to exhale in relief and pressed his advantage:
“No contact today… did you get a little anxious?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
“But I was anxious,” F said. “Couldn’t reach you.”
Li Xia stared at her shoes and fell quiet.
“Want to keep watching the drama?” he asked.
“I finished it already,” Li Xia said.
“Yeah, my fault for breaking the date. Punish me however you want. Or how about I spend the whole weekend with you? If you’re up for it.”
“No need,” he said, sounding guilty, so Li Xia softened. “Everyone has emergencies. It’s fine.”
“I was afraid you’d be mad.” F said.
“I’m not.”
“Afraid you’d secretly pass sentence on me.”
“…I wouldn’t,” Li Xia muttered. “I’m not a judge.”
“You are.” F blurted out.
His voice was so earnest it threw her heartbeat into chaos. Li Xia nearly fell for it, as if she really held the gavel over his fate. She covered quickly. “Okay, no more apologies. I’m really not mad.”
“So the magnanimous Teacher Lizi has pardoned me?”
“Mm.”
This time F believed her. “Thanks. Fang feels like his light boat has sailed past ten thousand mountains.”
Hmph, smooth talker.
The rain picked up.
Li Xia tilted her head to gaze at the murky black sky. Her heart felt the same—muddled. Suddenly out of touch, suddenly bombarded. She didn’t like this passive rollercoaster.
But in her ear, F sounded excited. “Though I didn’t make you happy today, I’ve got good news.”
“Wanna hear it?”
He sounded almost giddy. “Today I bought…”
“Wait.” Li Xia cut him off.
Thunder rumbled overhead as the downpour hit, raindrops splashing irregular circles on the ground. Li Xia hurriedly said goodbye to the two kittens first. The little white cat took a couple steps toward her before the little orange one called it back. Li Xia’s heart softened; the kittens hadn’t eaten yet and just watched her quietly. Suddenly she remembered the time the little white cat had secretly followed her home, standing filthy at the door with that same look, wanting in. Li Xia turned away, steeled herself, cupped a hand over her forehead, and jogged back to the building.
The unit door slid open with a mechanical whir, then slammed shut heavily.
Standing still, she said, “I don’t want to.”