“It’s so quiet for the holiday without you home, Yanyan,” Liang Xiaoxia said.
“…Isn’t Liang Jingchuan home?”
A lazy voice drifted from off-camera. “He is.”
Liang Xiaoxia smiled. “He got back this afternoon and went grocery shopping with your dad at the supermarket.”
“What’d you buy?”
“A bit of everything. The sauced beef is delicious. We’ll buy some more when you get back so you can try it.”
“Okay.”
“You’re still wearing short sleeves there.”
“Yeah. It’s summer here all the time. Is South City cold?”
“A bit. Temperature dropped yesterday.”
Then the voice from off-camera sounded again. “This data cable seems broken. Won’t charge. Mom, do you have a charger?”
“Yes, in my room. I’ll grab it in a sec.”
“About to shut down,” that voice said.
The camera spun, showing the ceiling. Liang Xiaoxia said, “Yanyan, hang on. I’ll get the charger.”
Lan Yan made an “Mm.” If Liang Jingchuan were right in front of her, she’d roll her eyes at him.
As expected, the next instant, the camera shook and steadied again—this time on Liang Jingchuan’s face.
She had never video-called him before. This was the first time.
His excessively handsome and profound features weren’t suited for such close-up; they were too sharp.
Lan Yan averted her gaze a little and said nothing.
She heard Liang Jingchuan chuckle lightly. “Can I take a screenshot?”
“…You’re using Auntie’s phone.”
“What about my own?”
“…”
“Can I?”
“Can you shut up?”
“If I shut up, can I?”
Liang Xiaoxia’s voice came from afar. “What’s your phone’s port? Type-C?”
“It’s charging now. Wasn’t plugged in tight earlier,” Liang Jingchuan said.
“Oh…”
Hearing footsteps approaching, Lan Yan panicked for some reason and hung up the video.
She messaged Liang Xiaoxia an explanation, saying she had something come up and would talk later. Liang Xiaoxia told her to rest well and wished her Happy New Year again.
Lan Yan picked up her tablet and returned to her room, afraid Liang Jingchuan might call her alone.
But he didn’t.
A little after nine, she finished Lu Ying’s profile picture, screenshot it for her approval, exported and sent it, then set aside the tablet and stylus. She got up from the bed and went to the bathroom to freshen up.
At the bathroom door, as she was tying up her hair, she heard her phone vibrate on the bedside table.
She turned back, picked it up, unlocked it, hesitated a moment, and answered.
From a slightly upward angle: black down jacket, streetlights illuminating his fair face, threading golden hues through his dark hair tips. The image was grainy overall, giving it a vintage feel.
Undeniably good-looking, both subjectively and objectively.
He walked along, his gaze downward, fixed on the camera. After a brief delay upon connecting, he smiled but said nothing.
“Are you out?” Lan Yan said faintly.
“Yeah. Can’t stay home.”
He omitted the second half of the sentence, but she understood.
After that, they fell silent for a moment. In the camera view, his breath turned into visible white mist.
“Yanyan.” He looked ahead. “I beat up a guy here once.”
“. . . Huh?” The abrupt statement left Lan Yan a bit dazed.
The camera view flipped to a small park near the neighborhood.
“During your senior year, a boy chased after you. Remember?”
“. . . Vaguely.” Lan Yan recalled the boy’s name only vaguely—Gao, from the science class. Nothing else came to mind.
“That day, he walked you home and passed by here on his way back. I happened to see him. He was on the phone with a friend, saying some nasty things about you.”
“. . . What things?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“Did you beat him up?”
“Yeah.”
In Lan Yan’s memory, that boy had been fairly good-looking. She was somewhat of a face-connoisseur; even when practicing portraits, she picked photos of handsome guys. So at first, she hadn’t rejected the boy pursuing her. They ate together twice, but she couldn’t stand his constant talk of “I have a friend who’s like this” or “My bro’s like that,” so she decided not to continue.
Right when she had that thought, the boy suddenly stopped asking her out.
She had always thought it was a case of mutual disinterest, a meeting of minds. Later, she ran into him in the cafeteria with a new girl beside him. When their eyes met, he looked embarrassed, and she figured he felt guilty for switching targets so quickly.
“. . . So you’ve been blocking my suitors all along?”
“Didn’t I fail to block them all in the end?”
Lan Yan fell silent.
“Liang Jingchuan . . .”
“Yeah?”
Lan Yan opened her mouth, but some unclear fear held her back. “. . . I’m going to take a shower. Hanging up now.”
“Okay. Happy New Year.”
“Happy New Year.” Just before hanging up, Lan Yan couldn’t resist confirming, “Did you take a screenshot?”
“Oh, you reminded me . . .”
Lan Yan quickly pressed the red button.
The unyielding belief that she absolutely could not spend the New Year in a foreign land drove her and Zhou Wenshu to work at full throttle on the follow-up tasks. They finally completed all the commissions on schedule.
The museum staff and Yu Wancheng conducted the acceptance together. Lan Yan and Zhou Wenshu finished the restoration records, and the work was thoroughly done.
For Yu Wancheng’s painting, Lan Yan remounted it and handed it to him at the farewell banquet, thanking him for his care during this time.
After dinner, Yu Wancheng invited Lan Yan to the study alone for a few words.
In the study, Yu Wancheng unrolled the hanging scroll and admired it closely. His fingers brushed the spacer beside the painting’s heart, and he sighed. “Miss Lan mounted it beautifully. The light blue floral lining suits this painting perfectly—it’s like new.”
“As long as Mr. Yu is satisfied.”
Yu Wancheng turned, looked up at Lan Yan. “Tied up with mundane affairs as usual—if there were any shortcomings in caring for Miss Lan and Mr. Zhou, please forgive us.”
Lan Yan smiled faintly. “Mr. Yu is too polite. You made us feel right at home.”
Yu Wancheng paused for a moment. A man who navigated any social occasion with ease and poise now seemed somewhat awkwardly hesitant. “Miss Lan’s family is in South City?”
Lan Yan nodded.
“If there’s a chance in the future, I’d like to visit Miss Lan. Would that be convenient?”
“South City’s museums have rich collections. My workplace, Mend Orchid Studio—my master is a representative figure like Su Pai. He also knows many collectors and could make introductions for Mr. Yu. It would be our honor if Mr. Yu visited my hometown to tour and inspect.”
Lan Yan knew how to speak such high-sounding pleasantries; she just rarely needed to use them. Some people didn’t warrant it, and others weren’t qualified.
She trusted that Yu Wancheng understood her grandiose words.
Yu Wancheng nodded, his faint smile tinged with a hint of bitterness. “Then I’ll impose on you another day.”
That evening, they packed their luggage. The next morning, they left Penang and returned home.
There were no direct flights from Penang to South City, so they needed to transfer through Kuala Lumpur or one of several major international airports in the country. They chose Kuala Lumpur, the shortest overall flight time, and they could buy some local souvenirs at the airport.
The first leg went smoothly, but the flight from Kuala Lumpur to South City was delayed due to poor weather at the destination.
The announcement said an expected delay of two hours, but it actually took a full five hours before they boarded.
The flight, originally due to land at nine p.m., touched down at two a.m.
At the baggage carousel, waiting for their suitcases, Lan Yan and Zhou Wenshu had become little more than walking corpses by the time they wheeled toward arrivals.
Lan Yan yawned repeatedly until she spotted the person standing at the arrivals area.
He wore a black chunky knit pullover sweater, standing tall like a lone pine amid the dazed crowd of greeters, especially striking.
Lan Yan and Zhou Wenshu quickened their steps.
As they approached, Liang Jingchuan first tossed over the two down jackets draped over his arm.
When they left, South City was still windbreaker weather. With suitcases packed full, they naturally hadn’t made room for thick coats needed three months later.
Zhou Wenshu caught his, somewhat stunned. “. . . Mine too?”
Liang Jingchuan smiled. “You can go out in just that if you want.”
Zhou Wenshu slipped his arms into the sleeves, feeling utterly defeated yet convinced, albeit bitterly.
He asked, “Are these yours?”
Liang Jingchuan glanced at him, as if thinking the man was a bit dense—who would lend their own clothes to a romantic rival?
“Lan Yan’s dad’s,” Liang Jingchuan replied.
Zhou Wenshu nodded.
Lan Yan asked, “Did you come straight from home?”
“Yeah. Figured you didn’t bring thick clothes.”
“They must be asleep by now.”
“I left at midnight. Probably already asleep.”
Lan Yan zipped up her down jacket. Liang Jingchuan naturally took her suitcase and turned to lead the way. “Get in the car first.”
The parking garage was cold. Fresh from the tropics, they weren’t adjusted yet. Without the down jackets for warmth, they would have shivered uncontrollably.
Once in the car, Liang Jingchuan immediately cranked up the heat, then asked Zhou Wenshu where he lived.
Zhou Wenshu gave the address. “Sorry for the trouble.”
“No problem. On the way.”
Exhaustion left Lan Yan without the energy to speak. Her head lolled against the seatback as she yawned nonstop.
Liang Jingchuan said, “If you’re sleepy, rest for a bit.”
“Yeah.”
Zhou Wenshu, on the other hand, fell asleep the moment he got in the car. When they arrived and woke him, he still looked reluctant to stir.
He got out, retrieved his suitcase from the trunk, came to the front to thank Liang Jingchuan and Lan Yan. “The jacket . . .”
Lan Yan said, “Just wear it. Bring it to the studio when you go to work.”
“Thanks.”
“Go rest. We’re off.”
The car started up again. In the warmth and the rocking motion, Lan Yan drifted into a drowsy haze.
Liang Jingchuan glanced over. “Did you have someone clean your place?”
“. . . No.” She still had three days of holiday left to tidy up slowly.
She had planned to go home, but now . . . She checked the time—three a.m. Lan Junwen and Liang Xiaoxia were surely long asleep. Going back then, with their personalities, would inevitably wake them for a whole welcome routine.
Liang Jingchuan tapped the steering wheel lightly, his voice calm. “Want me to book you a hotel room, or crash at my place for the night?”
Lan Yan realized his multiple-choice question had actually started paving the way when he said Lan Junwen and Liang Xiaoxia were “probably already asleep.”
“. . . If it’s not a bother.” She heard her own soft voice say.