On both sides of the road stood two rows of tall dawn redwoods. Their trunks were straight, their crowns lush and green. Dappled shadows fell under the warm sun, giving the place a sense of warmth and quiet serenity.
In the distance, a Jiefang 141 truck slowly approached. Wang Changlin had sharp eyes; sitting in the passenger seat, he spotted Wen Shiqing at once.
“Hey, Acheng, isn’t that your sister?”
Xie Yucheng stared straight ahead. A young man and a young woman—pure, youthful students—walked side by side. The boy was tall and slender, the girl graceful and delicate. Their silhouettes looked beautiful together, perfectly matched.
So she really has her eye on someone? They’d only just gone on a blind date, and now she couldn’t wait to sneak off to the outskirts for a rendezvous.
The fingers gripping the steering wheel trembled slightly. His gaze locked onto those two figures, his eyes darkening like a sky heavy with storm clouds before a downpour.
Wang Changlin, always one to enjoy stirring things up, grinned. “They’re already dating, huh? I told you—your sister’s so pure and pretty, if you don’t keep an eye on her, someone’s bound to make a move. This kid’s pretty handsome too. Looks more decent than you. Didn’t expect your sister to like this type—gentle as jade…”
Xie Yucheng’s brows sank low over his eyes. He coldly withdrew his gaze and shifted gears. Seeing he was about to drive off, Wang Changlin hurriedly said, “Stop, stop! Let me say hi to your sister.”
“Shut up!”
When he didn’t stop, Wang Changlin quickly rolled down the window, leaned half his body out, and called to Wen Shiqing, “Hey, Shiqing! What a coincidence!”
Wen Shiqing had noticed the truck earlier but hadn’t expected it to be Wang Changlin. She smiled and waved. “Brother Changlin, what are you doing here?”
Xie Yucheng slammed on the brakes. Wang Changlin’s head smacked into the window frame without warning. He cursed under his breath. “You sly bastard. No wonder your sister doesn’t fancy you.”
Only then did Wen Shiqing look toward the driver’s seat, her heart jolting.
The door opened. Wang Changlin jumped out and said with a cheeky grin, “Out on a date, huh?”
That single sentence made Zhou Chen awkward. Wen Shiqing hurriedly waved her hands. “No, no! We’re having a class reunion today. Everyone’s around here.”
The silver watch chain on her wrist caught Wang Changlin’s eye. A Shanghai-brand watch?
Wang Changlin snorted inwardly. No wonder he’d seen a watch box in the dorm that day—so it was a gift for his sister?
Someone’s a stubborn duck, all talk.
His gaze lingered thoughtfully between Wen Shiqing and Zhou Chen.
Xie Yucheng got out of the truck irritably, lit a cigarette, and leaned against the door watching them.
Through the drifting white smoke, the girl’s face looked clear and soft. Specks of light filtered through the branches and fell on her jet-black hair. The strands were fine and soft, making her fair face look especially docile.
The watch fit perfectly on her slender, pale wrist—delicate and pretty—accentuating her fresh, elegant temperament. The money had been well spent.
Standing beside that boy, she smiled brightly. Her watery eyes seemed filled with stars.
The smoke passed through his lungs—bitter and harsh. The man’s lashes trembled slightly as he looked away.
“Brother Changlin, this truck is…?” Wen Shiqing asked.
Wang Changlin jerked his chin toward Xie Yucheng and curled his lips. “Your brother bought it—Jiefang 141. How about it? Your brother’s already his own boss now. You’d better cling tight to his thigh—once he makes money, he can buy you candy.”
Wen Shiqing turned her head to study the man not far away. He stood there quietly, head slightly lowered, black tousled hair shading his forehead. His profile was sharply defined—high nose bridge, firm jawline—his figure aloof and distant.
“Not going to introduce him?” Wang Changlin prompted.
“Oh—his name is Zhou Chen, my high school classmate. Zhou Chen, this is Brother Changlin. And over there—that’s Brother Yucheng. You’ve seen him before.”
Zhou Chen was very polite and greeted them both.
Wen Shiqing asked Wang Changlin, “Didn’t he used to drive for the factory?”
“He quit the factory job. Your brother’s a self-employed boss now—takes whatever jobs he wants. Much freer than working in the factory.”
He quit his job? Wen Shiqing’s eyes widened in surprise.
That state-owned factory position was what Xie Guoli was most proud of—stable and respectable in everyone’s eyes. If Xie Guoli found out he’d quit, who knew what kind of storm it would stir up.
Xie Yucheng tossed the cigarette butt to the ground, crushed it hard under his foot, and shouted impatiently at Wang Changlin, “Are we going or not?”
Wang Changlin flashed a roguish smile at Wen Shiqing. “Have fun, kid. We’re heading out.”
“Okay.”
Just as Wang Changlin reached the truck, Xie Yucheng suddenly thought of something. He strode over to Wen Shiqing, grabbed her with one hand and pulled her aside, then leaned close to her ear and warned in a low voice:
“Keep your mouth shut. I don’t want the family knowing about this. Otherwise, you know the consequences.”
“I won’t say anything,” Wen Shiqing replied solemnly.
The man cast a sideways glance at Zhou Chen and sneered. “And another thing—dating is dating, but don’t you dare get pregnant before marriage. Otherwise everyone will be pointing fingers at our family.”
The words were too crude. Wen Shiqing’s face flushed instantly, her back trembling with humiliation and anger.
She forced herself to stay calm, tilted her head slightly—and her lips accidentally brushed against the man’s cheek. They both froze.
That fleeting touch—soft and cool—brushed across Xie Yucheng’s skin, and his heart skipped violently.
Wen Shiqing suddenly remembered when Xie Yucheng was in high school and dating. She’d been in sixth grade then. Several times she’d seen him with a pretty older girl—someone who would take his hand, cling to his arm, and act coy.
One night, Wen Shiqing had asked him, “Brother, are you and that older sister going to get married?”
Xie Yucheng had replied, “Adults’ business—kids shouldn’t meddle.”
Later, after Xie Yucheng started working, matchmakers often came to the house to arrange dates for him—girls from this family, daughters from that one, all of them pretty.
The adults encouraged him to take the girls out for walks. Wen Shiqing would quietly trail behind, watching her brother buy sodas for them, the two of them sitting by the river watching the sunset.
She still remembered how beautiful that sunset was—the afterglow spreading across the sky, dyeing the clouds orange-red, the color quietly transferring onto that girl’s face.
Xie Yucheng was always mysterious. He never wanted the family to know about his affairs—who he dated, where he went—he never told them.
There was only one time Wen Shiqing overheard Xie Guoli say to him, “Date if you want, but don’t knock someone up before marriage. That’d be me losing face.”
Wen Shiqing inferred that his romantic history must be rich, reckless, and promiscuous.
Whenever she thought of these things, the sourness in her chest felt like peeling an orange—juice bursting out, splashing into her eyes, making her want to cry.
At this moment, she clenched the hem of her clothes tightly, restraining her emotions. Her red lips parted, and her soft, light words fell into Xie Yucheng’s ears like a thunderclap out of nowhere:
“We’re dating normally. Just a little kiss, holding hands—that’s all. Brother, you should worry about yourself instead. Don’t let the day come when you get some woman pregnant and she shows up demanding responsibility. When that happens, we’ll all be pointed at along with you.”
Xie Yucheng stiffened for a long moment, then let out a cold snort. His brows and eyes radiated a bone-chilling wintery cold. He stared at her for a few seconds, then turned, got into the truck, and floored the accelerator.
The Jiefang 141 roared away, kicking up dust from the dirt road. Zhou Chen instinctively pulled Wen Shiqing closer, shielding her with his shirt.
Inside the truck, the two men withdrew their gazes from the rearview mirror. Wang Changlin sighed softly. “Looks like your sister’s serious this time. You can cry now.”
Xie Yucheng pressed his thin lips together tightly, his face dark as the bottom of a pot. In his mind, that sentence replayed over and over:
Just a little kiss, holding hands…
“Fuck.”
The truck sped wildly down the road, the dawn redwoods on either side flashing past.
Wang Changlin suddenly grabbed the overhead handhold and cursed, “Damn you! Testing performance doesn’t mean you have to drive this fast! I’m not married yet—I don’t want to die! You’re heartbroken, don’t drag me into a suicide run!”