The streets were bustling and lively, with the day’s grand market yet to disperse. Donkey carts, horse carriages, ox carts, and bicycles mingled with street vendors and hawkers, their calls rising and falling in a continuous chorus as people from all directions converged for the market day.
Wen Shiqing wandered listlessly through the crowd, hugging her arms tightly. Her teeth chattered as tears streamed down her face.
“Watch out!” Someone abruptly grabbed her arm, causing her to stumble.
Zhou Chen pulled her to the roadside just as a donkey cart narrowly brushed past them.
“Got a death wish? Walking in the middle of the road!” The driver shouted back over his shoulder, his voice booming.
“Shi Qing, are you alright?” Zhou Chen frowned, his concern evident as he took in her distraught state.
Zhou Chen was Wen Shiqing’s high school classmate. He had been a top student in their class and later enrolled in the local People’s University. With his upright character and excellent qualities, he stood out among his peers.
“Zhou Chen?”
Wen Shiqing looked up, allowing the young man to see her tear-streaked face.
Strands of hair clung damply to her pale cheeks. Her nose was tinged red, and she bit her lip lightly, looking as if she had suffered some terrible injustice.
“I spotted you from afar earlier. It’s dangerous walking in the middle of the road, especially on market day. What if you’d been hit by a donkey or ox cart?”
He leaned forward slightly, hands resting on her shoulders, speaking faster than usual.
Wen Shiqing lifted her face, vivid images flashing through her mind – her mother holding that chicken, the pool of blood on the ground…
She sniffled, two crystalline teardrops tracing paths from the corners of her eyes.
“What happened? Why are you crying so sadly?”
Zhou Chen instinctively raised his hand to wipe her tears, but fearing overstepping boundaries, let it fall back to his side.
Not far away, Xie Yucheng stood with hands in pockets, his deep dark eyes flickering with complex emotions.
He averted his gaze, dropped his cigarette butt to the ground, crushed it underfoot, and turned to leave.
Feeling embarrassed about crying in front of a classmate, Wen Shiqing wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her voice:
“It’s nothing. You… what are you doing here?”
Zhou Chen lived in the southern part of town, while this was the northern district. Wen Shiqing was surprised to encounter him here.
The young man awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, his eyes darting away.
He didn’t admit he had come hoping to run into her by chance, instead hurriedly explaining: “I came to visit a relative.”
They found seats in a nearby teahouse. Zhou Chen poured a cup of cool tea and gently placed it before her.
Suddenly he remembered the first time he saw her at school three years ago – she had been crying then too, for some unknown reason. She seemed to cry easily.
Most people looked disheveled when they cried, but Wen Shiqing appeared exceptionally beautiful and moving in tears.
Her slender, arched eyebrows framed eyes from which pearly tears would slide from the corners when she cried. Her lashes, dark as crow feathers, would glisten with moisture while her nose tip turned pink.
Like Lin Daiyu from the classic novels – “Two arched eyebrows, thick as clustered smoke; a pair of eyes, imbued with feeling.”
And when her cherry-like lips spoke, her soft tones with their sweet, lingering accents differed completely from the local northern girls.
Later, when they were assigned to the same class, Zhou Chen discovered through their interactions that this girl resembled a star, radiating light from within.
Her personality wasn’t as fragile as her appearance suggested – instead, she possessed edges and corners. From that point on, he became captivated.
The girl lowered her head, gaze distant, propping her chin with one hand while her fingertips idly played with the teacup before her.
Zhou Chen took a sip of tea and tried to make conversation with her: “What do you plan to do after graduating high school?”
He knew she hadn’t gotten into university. In their class of over thirty students, only three or four had been admitted.
Wen Shiqing hung her head dejectedly, her heart still aching over A Li. “I don’t know. My mother wants me to get married quickly.”
The tea in Zhou Chen’s mouth instantly went down the wrong pipe. He coughed violently several times, covering his nose with his hand, his face flushed red from choking.
“Are you okay?” Wen Shiqing took out a small handkerchief she carried with her and handed it to him.
It was a white handkerchief with clusters of pale flowers embroidered on its corners, carrying a light, elegant fragrance—quite refined.
Zhou Chen held the handkerchief, coughed lightly a few times, and gradually regained his composure. Sitting up straight, he said seriously, “You’re still so young, there’s no need to rush.”
Wen Shiqing smiled bitterly: “My mother is quite anxious. She wants to fetch a good price while I’m still young.”
“I think you’ve just graduated, and you’ve only just turned eighteen. No matter how urgent it is, it shouldn’t be this rushed. You’re not a commodity. Nowadays, marriage is about personal freedom—how can your mother treat you like this?”
He spoke urgently, his expression as varied as an overturned spice rack.
Wen Shiqing couldn’t help but chuckle, squeezing two tears from the corners of her eyes.
“I was teasing you!” she said leisurely. “In September, I’ll take the exam for grassroots positions. If I pass, I might work in a township government, neighborhood committee, grain management office, or clinic—some small clerical or cashier job. That’s the family’s temporary arrangement.”
Xie Guoli had told her that for a girl, this was a relatively good path. If she didn’t pass the exam, he would help pull some strings to secure her a decent job.
Zhou Chen relaxed his posture and used her handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his temple. “You scared me. I thought you were really going to accept an arranged marriage and get married right away.”
Wen Shiqing’s mood had lightened somewhat by now. She took a few sips of iced tea and asked lazily, “What about you, college student? When does your semester start?”
“September 2nd. By the way, we’re planning a class reunion in a few days—everyone’s going out to the suburbs. Since I ran into you today, I thought I’d let you know.”
Wen Shiqing wasn’t very keen on going. These days, Xie Yucheng was back, and she only wanted to stay home every day so she could see him whenever he returned.
“I…”
“Don’t say you’re not going! Several of our close classmates will be there—Qin Mei, Zhang Xiaolin, Wu Li… We’re all about to go our separate ways—this might be the last time we get together.”
“Alright, I’ll go.”
Zhou Chen’s dark brows and eyes lit up with a bright smile, and his anxious heart settled.
The handkerchief had grown warm and crumpled in his palm. When parting, he looked embarrassed. “Let me wash it clean before returning it to you.”
Shi Qing waved her hand, her dark braid swinging behind her shoulder. “It’s fine, you can throw it away. My mother embroidered lots of handkerchiefs for me.”
She turned and left. Zhou Chen watched her retreating figure until her slender form disappeared into the crowd, then quietly folded the handkerchief and tucked it into his pocket.