"Qingning."
For a long time, Chen Qingning dreaded hearing her name called. Being called on meant having to answer questions or go up to the stage to express her views. Her inadequate language skills were not enough to help her hold her own in an American art school classroom. And on the very first day of school, she knew that language was sometimes the key to status.
"What do you think?" The professor with curly gray hair and a floral knit sweater stared intently at her, her eyes encouraging.
Chen Qingning's hand touched her waistband, rubbing up and down awkwardly: "Em… I think…"
"Pa… Can you say the question… again?"
Chen Qingning murmured in her sleep, her words fragmentary, as she lay on the lounge chair.
Chang Kangle, who had woken up early, leaned close to her face and whispered to Yu Bei on the sofa: "What is the soccer teacher saying?"
Yu Bei glanced at the frowning girl and shook his head.
He put down the picture book in his hand and instructed Lele: "Wake her up."
Lele clenched his little fists against his chest: "Me?"
Yu Bei: "Mm."
Disturbing someone's sweet dreams wasn't a good thing, so Lele pushed the task back: "You do it."
Yu Bei said: "You're her good friend."
Lele asked: "Aren't you?"
Yu Bei raised an eyebrow: "I'm her teacher."
Lele pouted and started nudging Chen Qingning's shoulder: "Wake up—time to get up—soccer teacher—"
The shrill childish voice was remarkably effective. Chen Qingning shot up from the lounge chair instantly.
Her body snapped upright, but her mind hadn't caught up yet. In her groggy vision, the first thing that came into view was Lele's big curious eyes.
They immediately curved into crescents: "You're awake?"
Chen Qingning let out a huge yawn and knocked her fist lightly against her head.
The sleepiness was stubbornly clinging on, refusing to let go.
Just as she was about to lie back down, her reclining back was firmly pushed back up: "Don't sleep anymore."
That one stern word, like a soul-summoning call, instantly sharpened her ears and eyes.
The pressure at her shoulder blades receded, and someone walked around to her front, bending down to pick up the windbreaker from the floor.
Chen Qingning followed his figure with her eyes, finally settling on his chin: "You're done with class?"
Yu Bei lowered his gaze, dusting off his jacket: "Done."
Lele, never one to miss a chance to stir things up, chimed in: "He finished a long time ago—"
Chen Qingning turned sideways toward Lele, then looked up at Yu Bei.
The man put on his jacket briskly: "Done sleeping?"
Lele covered his mouth, stifling a laugh.
Chen Qingning ran her hand through her messy hair: "How did I fall asleep?"
Lele remembered perfectly: "You said you wanted to play a game with me—who could keep their eyes closed longer."
Hearing this, Yu Bei let out a laugh with an unreadable expression.
"Oh—" Chen Qingning suddenly understood: "Right, right, right!"
She got up from the lounge chair and looked around. Lele noticed her movements and followed behind, looking around too: "What are you looking for?"
Chen Qingning muttered: "Where's my phone? I need to check the ti—"
Lele said: "Your phone is dead."
Almost letting it slip, Chen Qingning caught herself just in time, immediately shut her mouth, and changed her tone: "Oh really~ Chang Kangle, you have such a good memory."
She ruffled Lele's head vigorously twice.
The little boy dodged: "Don't mess up my hair."
"I will." She easily hooked her arm around his thin neck, bent down, and rubbed and tickled him.
Lele laughed from the tickling, complaining and enjoying it at the same time, until he finally broke free and scurried over to hide by the coffee table.
"How much longer?" Yu Bei spoke from the side.
Chen Qingning was about to rub her eyes when she suddenly remembered it would rub off her eyelash extensions—their numbers were already dangerously low—so she quickly said: "Let's go now."
She was so focused on finding her bag and phone that she completely forgot the scarf that had been cushioning her back.
Chen Qingning slung the dog-tooth patterned bag over her shoulder: "I'm ready."
"You're ready." Yu Bei stood in place, not moving an inch, repeating her words.
Chen Qingning was puzzled: "Yeah, I'm ready. Aren't we leaving?"
Yu Bei gestured with his chin toward the lounge chair.
Chen Qingning was speechless. She stuck out her tongue, slunk back dejectedly, and scooped the scarf into her arms.
"Can't you help me carry it?" she blurted out.
"Do your own thing yourself." Yu Bei said.
After saying goodbye to the two children's father—Master Chang—downstairs, Chen Qingning and Yu Bei walked out of the restaurant one after another.
The sky was dimmer than when they'd arrived. The sun was half-hidden behind the clouds, and the patches of light on the ground looked faded, nowhere near as warm as at noon. Chen Qingning was still yawning, tears seeping from her eyes. She wiped them away with her fingertips: "What now?"
The man beside her lowered his head, tapping on his phone: "Waiting for the car."
Chen Qingning also pulled out her phone and pressed and held to turn it on.
The moment she saw the time on the screen, she let out a startled cry: "It's four o'clock?"
She looked at Yu Bei with admiration: "You taught for two and a half hours straight? Are you a Nanfu battery?"
Yu Bei glanced at her but said nothing.
"I'll be there soon, Teacher Yu," a deep voice came through his phone. "It's just that I lent out my van, so I only have the three-wheeler."
Yu Bei was silent for two seconds, then brought the phone to his chin: "No problem."
"I'll go get the vehicle," he told Chen Qingning. "Wait for me here."
"What car?" Chen Qingning's eyes were teasing. "That broken bicycle of yours?"
Yu Bei ignored her and turned into the narrow alley.
Chen Qingning wrapped her scarf tighter around herself and stared blankly at the gray-white sky. A moment later, a bell rang behind her, and warmth brushed against the back of her neck.
Chen Qingning turned around to see Sister Chen coming out from the door, smiling gently. "Teacher Chen, why don't you come inside and wait? It's getting colder now, and you're dressed so lightly. Don't catch a cold."
Chen Qingning leaned sideways to peek into the shop. "Where are Lele and his older brother?"
Sister Chen paused for a moment. "Their father went upstairs to get them."
Chen Qingning relaxed. "No need, I'll just wait here." She struck a pose flexing her biceps. "I'm made of iron—I don't fear the cold."
Sister Chen didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Chen Qingning beamed. "Sister, next time you come, just call me Little Sister. I'm also a Chen—we're from the same clan."
Sister Chen seemed to want to say something but held back, blinking rapidly several times. After a brief, subtle twitch, the corners of her mouth curved to both sides. "Mm, Little Sister, come eat at our place again next time."
Sister Chen retreated back inside, but shortly after came out again with a whole bag of hand warmers, pressing them into Chen Qingning's hands without allowing any refusal.
Chen Qingning looked down. They were knockoff goods with Japanese-style packaging. She'd used the genuine version while skiing in Niseko, and had even lent some to a movie star she'd met at a bar, using that as leverage to get a Polaroid photo and autograph from him.
Yu Bei pushed his mountain bike out from around the corner of the wall, and saw the girl staring off into space holding a red-and-yellow package.
The wind was being particularly nasty, blowing her hair in every direction, repeatedly plastering it across her eyes and brows before she irritably brushed it away.
"Doesn't even think to wear a hat," Yu Bei said, stopping beside her.
Chen Qingning hadn't yet had time to retract her grumbling expression. "You're not wearing one either." Don't be the pot calling the kettle black.
Yu Bei reached both hands behind his head, pulled up the hood of his windbreaker, and pressed the Velcro on the stand collar firmly shut.
Chen Qingning fell silent, but refused to be outdone, switching back into her "masked heroine in silk robes by night" mode.
From her lower position, she launched a fierce counterattack with a "who's afraid of who" look.
Yu Bei turned his face away and pressed his lips together.
With a creak, a blue motorized tricycle braked in front of Changlai Home Cooking. The driver pushed open the door and got out, apologizing repeatedly. "Sorry about that, Teacher Yu, I'm late."
He was a male driver in army-green work clothes with a cotton vest over the top. The moment he saw Chen Qingning, his face showed some difficulty. "There's another person too."
"It's fine," Yu Bei said. "She'll sit in the cab. I'll sit in the back."
"The back? It's cold back there—!" The driver sighed heavily, then turned to look. "And I haven't cleaned it out. It's filthy."
Chen Qingning realized what was happening and pointed at the rust-covered three-wheeled cargo truck. "We're taking this back?"
Yu Bei grunted in affirmation, then hoisted the mountain bike up with both hands, pushing it into the cargo bed without any visible effort.
The driver moved to help, but found himself completely useless, and withdrew his hands sheepishly.
Chen Qingning hurried over. "Are you just looking for suffering, Yu Bei? Didn't you say you could get a taxi?"
Yu Bei looked at her, his black hair whipping wildly in the wind. "A taxi can't fit my bicycle."
Chen Qingning said, "Then I'll call a car, and you go back with him."
Yu Bei said, "Too much trouble."
Chen Qingning couldn't understand. "Won't you be cold sitting in the back?"
Yu Bei said, "You sit in the cab."
Chen Qingning raised her voice. "I'm asking if YOU'LL be cold."
Yu Bei said, "This is nothing."
Chen Qingning gave him a flawless eye roll. "King of showing off."
Yu Bei: "?"
The old driver suggested, "How about this, Teacher Yu—you two call another car, and I'll haul your bicycle back for you."
Yu Bei's voice deepened as he looked toward the distant mountains shrouded in mist and haze, speaking plainly. "Can't get one."
Chen Qingning turned toward him.
Yu Bei's tone grew more certain. "I tried. I tried every type of ride. Can't get one."
Chen Qingning opened the app to confirm, and just as Yu Bei had said, every option showed a minimum ten-minute wait, and even with surge pricing, no one was accepting.
"What kind of impoverished mountain region is this?!" Chen Qingning let out a despairing low howl.
The old driver let out a dry, strained laugh.
"It'll only get colder the later it gets," Yu Bei said, no longer waiting around. "Get in."
The cargo compartment of the tricycle was extremely small, barely enough for two people, but precisely because of the limited space, it was warmer and cozier than outside.
Chen Qingning took off her scarf, tucked her hair behind both ears, and opened WeChat to check her messages.
But she couldn't focus.
The fields on both sides flowed backward, the road bumped gently, and from behind came a light, rhythmic hollow sound.
Chen Qingning turned to look at the rear window.
The junction between the open cargo bed and the cab was higher up, so only the top of Yu Bei's head was visible.
Chen Qingning then looked at the rearview mirror outside the passenger side. It reflected the road and trees, the sky and mountains—but no person.
"Girl, are you the new teacher at the special school?" the driver uncle struck up a conversation.
Chen Qingning glanced at him sideways. "Mm."
"Where are you from?"
Chen Qingning said the name of her hometown.
"Up in heaven, down in Suzhou and Hangzhou—that's a fine place." The uncle had dark skin but a bright smile. "How come you came here to teach?"
It was a long story, and Chen Qingning couldn't explain it in a few words.
But out in the world, you are whoever you claim to be. She slipped into character, spinning tales off the top of her head, and for the first time admitted, "I'm from around here originally. I've had a dream since I was little—to make something of myself and give back to my hometown."
"Oh? You're one of us?" The uncle seemed genuinely surprised.
Chen Qingning quickly put some distance between them: "No, no—I didn't grow up in Baihe."
The uncle kept smiling: "Right, I can tell. Fair-skinned, pretty, and stylish—you look like you came down from a big city."
Chen Qingning said nothing.
A moment later, she asked, "Where's Teacher Yu from?"
"You two didn't know each other before?" The uncle turned the steering wheel. "I thought you'd known each other for ages—he's from the same place as you."
"Oh?" Chen Qingning happily pocketed this new piece of information.
The uncle swelled with pride, his voice booming: "That's right. He's a top student, went to university in Beijing."
Chen Qingning scrunched up her face: "How top? Peking University?"
The uncle rubbed his nose: "That I wouldn't know."
"Pfft—" Chen Qingning scoffed. "Definitely not Peking University. If he'd gone to PKU, he'd have bragged about it till the cows came home." She instinctively turned her head and once again hit the visual blind spot.
Chen Qingning absently pressed on her shoulder bag, the plastic bag inside rustling.
Suddenly, something occurred to her. She rummaged through the bag and pulled out the packet of hand warmers.
The truck came to an unexplained stop.
Yu Bei found it odd. He rested his hand on the cargo bed's railing and leaned out to look.
The passenger door flew open with a bang. Chen Qingning stepped out, let loose a curse word, then hugged her arms to her chest and trudged against the wind toward him.
"You need to use the bathroom?" Yu Bei frowned.
Chen Qingning was left speechless: "Did the cold freeze your brain?"
The two stood across the railing, bathed in the gray-blue dusk.
Chen Qingning's lips parted: "I want to watch the sunset."
Yu Bei looked at the sky: "What sunset?"
His nose was turning red: "Don't act on a whim. It's freezing out here."
Chen Qingning checked her phone: "It's only 4:30. It'll come soon."
Yu Bei told her plainly: "It won't."
The sun was already gone.
That was just how the sky was here—the clear morning they'd had was already a rare treat.
The treetops along the road darkened into a solid mass.
Yu Bei sat half-crouched, leaning against the cargo bed, dark and looming along with his flimsy truck frame. Yet Chen Qingning inexplicably thought of that essay, The White Poplar.
The cold wind forced a dampness into Chen Qingning's nose, but she refused to get back in the truck: "Do you have any sense of romance?! At a moment like this, you should grab my hand and pull me into the truck!"
With that, she thrust her left hand out at him.
A slender, fair hand, its nails shimmering with a rippling, starry luster.
Yu Bei looked at her.
"Get back in the truck," he said.
"No—not a chance!" She burst out in English with even more stubbornness, her hand still hanging in the air, with no intention of withdrawing.
Yu Bei said nothing.
After a brief standoff, Yu Bei pushed himself up, unlatched the two bolts on the cargo railing: "Climb up yourself."
She clenched her fist and flailed it wildly at him through the air.
Yu Bei pretended not to see it. He made some room and offered up the clean woven sack that Master Lin had specially laid out for him: "Sit here."
Chen Qingning pursed her lips and gave him a haughty look: "Can't I sit in your lap?"
"Go back to your truck."
"……"
Chen Qingning plopped herself down right beside him, and only then, satisfied, patted the cargo bed and shouted: "Master Lin! Let's go—"
Yu Bei was startled by her voice and looked at her wordlessly.
The girl's smile seemed even bigger than her voice, her eyes and teeth gleaming in the wind: "Why are you staring at me? Dazzled by my beauty?"
Yu Bei turned his gaze forward.
The truck started moving again.
"You just had to come out here and suffer." The evening wind carried Yu Bei's voice.
Chen Qingning hugged her knees, gazing at the distant mountains receding: "I told you, I'm going to share your joys and sorrows, Teacher Yu."
"You don't need to worry about me—" The quiet truck bed suddenly became noisy, "I'll show you something good."
Yu Bei didn't give her a glance.
"Look, look at me." Chen Qingning shook his arm.
Yu Bei pulled his arm back and glanced sideways.
Chen Qingning suddenly flung open her shawl-scarf: "Ta-da—"
Yu Bei thought he wouldn't be caught off guard a second time, but he was wrong.
Chen Qingning's waist and stomach were plastered with symmetrically arranged hand warmers, the visual effect comparable to a bomb vest.
"My six-pack abs." She pinched her waist and announced grandly: "Got any?"
Yu Bei suppressed the urge to facepalm, only saying: "At least you've got some brains."
"What?" The wind suddenly picked up, roaring past, and Chen Qingning didn't catch what he said.
She was lost in her own performance: "Want me to give you two?"
Yu Bei replied: "No need."
But she was already tearing them off—after a series of crisp, fluid ripping sounds, two hand warmers were held out before his eyes.
Yu Bei said: "Really, no need."
Chen Qingning stuck them onto his knees: "Don't be so stubborn. It's not like I'm asking you to stick them on your body. They're good for warming your hands."
Yu Bei said: "My hands are in my pockets."
A sly look crossed Chen Qingning's face as she spread her ten fingers: "Then should I put my hands on your knees?"
Yu Bei immediately peeled off the stacked hand warmers—their backs were fuzzy, covered in fibers pulled from Chen Qingning's wool sweater.
His large palm gripped the toasty warmers and tucked them back into his coat pocket.
"There really isn't a sunset, is there?" Chen Qingning tucked her chin between her knees and muttered regretfully, because the sky had gone completely dark.
A strand of hair brushed against her fair cheek. Yu Bei withdrew his gaze and looked into the distance at the departing clouds—a thin line of gold at the edge, but mostly leaden gray.
He wanted to reply, I told you so, you wouldn't have believed me.
But in the end, he said nothing.
Click. A shutter sound suddenly came from beside him. Yu Bei looked over and saw Chen Qingning holding up her phone for a selfie. In the small frame, she was grinning wide enough to swallow an elephant, her hand gestures changing like a shapeshifting star.
"Ugh, I can't even—the lighting is so bad, and I'm still this gorgeous!"
"Does the environment even matter? In front of absolute perfection, everything else is just icing on the cake!"
She squealed with joy, utterly enchanted with herself, as if she were racing along California's brilliant, blazing coastline. The wind and the night parted around her, making way:
"Who says there's no sunset—"
"I am today's sunset."