The two of them ate their meal in silence, neither speaking again.
Pei Huaijin finished first. He set down his knife and fork, picked up his napkin to wipe his mouth, then leaned back in his chair. Without looking at his phone, he simply sat there quietly, waiting.
Shen Qingyu could feel his gaze resting on her—not heavy, but with a strong presence. She quickened her pace, finished the last few bites, and put down her utensils.
“Finished?” he asked.
“Mm.”
Pei Huaijin gestured, and a server approached. He signed the bill.
Afterward, the two walked out of the restaurant one after the other. The wind at the entrance felt colder than when they had arrived. Shen Qingyu tightened her coat around herself. Pei Huaijin walked on her left, blocking the wind for her.
“Still going to the art exhibition?” he asked casually.
Shen Qingyu hesitated. She had originally wanted to say, “I don’t want to go anymore,” but the words caught in her throat. He had treated her to dinner today, and they had originally agreed to see the exhibition. If she said she didn’t want to go, it would seem like she was throwing a tantrum. Besides, she genuinely enjoyed art exhibitions.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Pei Huaijin nodded without further comment, opened the car door, and let her in.
The exhibition was held at a private gallery in the eastern part of the city, not far from the restaurant—a ten-minute drive. The exhibition hall was not large, featuring a solo exhibition by a young artist. The works were primarily oil paintings, with a cool color palette dominated by expansive blues and grays. They depicted the sea—various kinds of seas: calm seas, turbulent seas, seas in the morning light, seas in the night.
Shen Qingyu stood before one painting for a long time.
It depicted a seaside morning. The sky was a pale gray-blue, with a faint layer of pink near the horizon, like the dim, half-lit glow just before the sun fully rises.
“Do you like this one?” Pei Huaijin’s voice came from beside her.
Shen Qingyu glanced at him. He stood half a step away on her right.
“Mm,” she said. “It’s very well painted.”
“This artist won an award at the Venice Biennale last year. These paintings are new from this year; the exhibition just opened last month,” Pei Huaijin said.
“Have you been to this exhibition before?” she asked.
“No, I just read the introduction before coming.”
Shen Qingyu nodded and said nothing more, continuing to walk forward and view the paintings one by one. When she reached the end of the exhibition hall, she looked back at the path she had taken. The paintings hung quietly on the white walls, like windows opening onto different oceans.
“Finished viewing. Is there anything else you’d like to do?” Pei Huaijin asked.
Shen Qingyu shook her head. “No, I’d like to go home.”
“Alright, let’s go then,” he said. “I’ll take you home.”
By the time they stepped outside, the sky had already begun to darken. Winter days were always short; the sun began to sink past four o’clock, staining the horizon a pale orange. In the distance, the glass curtain walls of tall buildings reflected the last of the light, like mirrors about to go dark.
The two walked out of the gallery. Pei Huaijin went to get the car while Shen Qingyu waited at the entrance. After the sun set, the wind grew even colder. She tightened her coat a little more, her breath forming white puffs that quickly dissipated in the air. The car glided to a stop in front of her, and she opened the door to get in.
The drive back was just as quiet. Shen Qingyu leaned against the seat, watching the street scenes outside the window pass by frame by frame.
She felt she should say something—after all, he had treated her to dinner and taken her to the exhibition today, arranging everything perfectly from start to finish. At the very least, she ought to offer a proper thank you. But her lips seemed glued shut, unable to open. The words circled in her throat a few times before ultimately being swallowed back down.
It wasn’t until they were almost home that Pei Huaijin suddenly spoke.
“Miss Shen.”
Shen Qingyu turned to look at him.
“Regarding the matter of marriage, I hope you’ll give it serious consideration.”
Shen Qingyu’s fingers tightened on her knees.
“I know this must seem very sudden to you,” he said, his gaze still fixed on the road ahead. “It’s sudden for me as well.”
“But marriage is indeed a rather urgent matter for me at the moment. Due to my position, I need a wife with a suitable background and outstanding qualities.” He continued, “You are a very suitable match for me. I’m speaking to you about this in all seriousness.”
The car’s heater blew warm air, and Shen Qingyu felt her face grow slightly flushed. She didn’t know what to say or where to look, so she kept her eyes fixed on the window. The scenery outside slowly changed, shifting from the neon lights of the commercial district to the plane trees of the residential area, their bare branches casting dense shadows under the streetlights.
“After you get home,” Pei Huaijin’s voice came from beside her, neither too loud nor too soft, “think it over carefully.”
The car turned onto the street where she lived. The plane trees on either side passed by one after another, the streetlights piercing through the branches and casting mottled shadows on the car’s roof. Shen Qingyu saw the gate of her house, the lamp at the entrance glowing, its warm yellow light spilling over the steps.
Pei Huaijin parked the car at the gate but didn’t turn off the engine, the motor humming softly. He turned to look at her. “I look forward to your reply.”
Shen Qingyu met his eyes, her heartbeat suddenly quickening. She averted her gaze and reached to unbuckle her seatbelt. Her fingers paused on the clasp. Lowering her head, she said softly, “Thank you for dinner and the art exhibition today.” Her voice was much quieter than usual, so quiet she wasn’t even sure he had heard her.
“You’re welcome,” he replied.
Shen Qingyu pushed open the car door and paused for a moment as one foot touched the ground. She wanted to say something more, but in the end, she said nothing. She simply stepped out of the car and closed the door.
She didn’t look back as the Maybach behind her slowly drove away.
She opened the door, and warmth greeted her. Manlin Jiang was sitting on the living room sofa, looking at her phone. Hearing the noise, she looked up.
“Back so soon?” She set her phone down, her gaze falling on Shen Qingyu’s face. “Why didn’t you stay out a bit longer? Coming back this early—did Huaijin have other matters and couldn’t accompany you?”
Shen Qingyu changed into her slippers, hung her coat on the hallway rack, and didn’t look at her mother.
“I’m tired,” she said, her voice flat and devoid of emotion. “I’m going upstairs.”
She headed toward the staircase.
Manlin Jiang stood up and followed her. “What’s wrong? Did you not enjoy your time with Huaijin?”
“No,” Shen Qingyu said, her voice slightly more muffled than before. “I’m just tired.”
“What did you do? Tell me about it.” Manlin Jiang’s voice trailed after her, filled with curiosity and concern.
Shen Qingyu didn’t respond and continued climbing the stairs.
Manlin Jiang followed her to the corner of the staircase and paused there.
“Qingyu,” she said, her voice a little lower than before, “are you not satisfied with Huaijin?”
Shen Qingyu’s footsteps paused for a moment—just a moment—before quickly resuming.
Manlin Jiang noticed that pause and immediately followed, her tone growing even gentler. “It’s fine, Mom said, if you don’t like him, I won’t force you. If you feel Huaijin isn’t suitable, it’s okay. Mom can introduce you to other outstanding young men. There are plenty of good families here in Jingbei; the Pei family isn’t the only one. If you don’t like this one, we’ll just meet another. There’s bound to be one you like—”
“Mom.”
Shen Qingyu stopped at the bedroom door, turned around, her brows slightly furrowed.
“You…” she began, her voice a bit hoarse, as if something were stuck in her throat. “I’m not dissatisfied with Pei Huaijin. Please don’t introduce anyone else to me.”
After saying this, she herself froze for a moment, and Manlin Jiang also froze.
The hallway fell silent for several seconds.
Manlin Jiang was the first to snap out of it. The corners of her mouth began to lift, but she quickly suppressed it, as if trying hard to keep her expression from becoming too obvious. She cleared her throat. “Alright, alright, Mom understands. You’re quite satisfied with Huaijin, and you’re just tired now, right?”
Shen Qingyu didn’t answer, nor did she deny it. She just stood at the door, hand on the doorknob, calmly looking at her mother.
Seeing her like this, Manlin Jiang took a step back.
“Fine, go inside and rest,” she said, her voice carrying a satisfied lightness. “Mom won’t disturb you anymore.”
Shen Qingyu glanced at her mother, her lips moving as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, she simply nodded.
Shen Qingyu pushed the door open, walked in, and closed it behind her.