Chapter Seven: The Big-Eyed Girl and the Man with Small Eyes

Zhao Zejun and Yu Zhe had suddenly become inseparable, and there was all sorts of talk among their classmates. Those popular students whom Yu Zhe used to flatter made sour remarks, saying Zhao Zejun was penniless and Yu Zhe had no friends, so the two of them made a perfect pair.

Yu Zhe, fuming, told Zhao Zejun all about these rumors. Zhao Zejun merely laughed them off. Compared to what he intended to do, the noise of these children was utterly insignificant.

“A clean person fears no slander, a dirty one can’t be cleansed,” Zhao Zejun said with a careless wave of his hand, grinning. “Hey, how does that saying go? Today you ignore me, tomorrow you’ll be out of my league.”

“I’ve always said those guys can’t compare to you—your magnanimity puts them to shame!” Yu Zhe gave him a thumbs-up.

Zhao Zejun did have a generous heart, though there were others whose hearts were even bigger.

For example, Xia Yubing.

Lately, Xia Yubing hadn’t been in the best of spirits. She couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason, but it had something to do with Zhao Zejun.

From childhood, Xia Yubing had always been outstanding among her peers—surrounded by boys like a princess, cherished by her elders. Since elementary school, she’d received all kinds of declarations of affection, some from boys with powerful backgrounds and exceptional qualities.

Though she never encouraged any of them, Xia Yubing was absolutely confident in her own charm.

After that day when she treated Zhao Zejun to fried skewers, she was certain he would soon make a move.

Of course, whatever move Zhao Zejun might make, whether or not she responded, and how she might respond—that was up to her.

But the next day at school, Zhao Zejun acted as though nothing at all had happened. Weeks went by, and not only did he make no “moves,” he barely said a few extra words to her. Their relationship remained as distant as before—little more than nodding acquaintances.

That would have been tolerable, but Zhao Zejun had become inseparable with the least popular boy in class, Yu Zhe!

High schoolers might not know what love is, and there was no real emotional basis between Xia Yubing and Zhao Zejun—just a dictation and a brief conversation.

If Zhao Zejun had hit it off with a girl, Xia Yubing might have felt a touch of disappointment, but out of pride and self-respect, she would likely have let it go, let time wash away this minor episode, and after graduation, go her own way, never to meet again.

But Yu Zhe was a boy!

Was she not even as attractive as a boy? And that boy was Yu Zhe!

That Saturday during extra classes, by the last period of the afternoon, Xia Yubing once again saw Zhao Zejun and Yu Zhe exchanging knowing glances and couldn’t hold back. She wrote a note and had her deskmate pass it over.

Zhao Zejun was just deliberating over what to eat that evening.

Fried skewers were cheap, ramen was pricier, but he’d had too many skewers lately and his mouth was full of blisters from the heat.

Life was too tough! Was it so easy to earn a little money?

Just as he was deep in thought, He Hui, who sat in front, handed over a note with a mysterious air and asked quietly, “A note from the class beauty. Are you two a thing now?”

“I swear to Chairman Mao, our relationship is absolutely pure and platonic!” Zhao Zejun replied, deadpan.

He Hui raised an eyebrow. “You sure it’s not methanol?!”

Zhao Zejun chuckled and opened the note.

The handwriting was sharp yet elegant. The content was odd—two lines of doggerel.

“Monday follows Monday, oh, how many Mondays are there?”

It took him several seconds to realize what she meant.

Last time, when Xia Yubing had asked him to walk her home, he’d been eager to jot down memories from his previous life and said “tomorrow.” She reminded him it was the weekend and there’d be no class. He’d then said Monday. But with the whole Yu Zhe situation, he’d forgotten all about it.

Well then, no ramen or skewers tonight—he’d walk the young lady home, then go home and eat his mom’s cooking.

When the bell rang, most of the class quickly dispersed. Only the four students on cleaning duty, Zhao Zejun, Xia Yubing, and Yu Zhe remained.

Xia Yubing was sprawled over her desk, pretending to do homework, but it was obvious she was waiting for someone.

Yu Zhe, having recently dominated in CS, was feeling a bit full of himself, but not so much that he thought Xia Yubing was waiting for him. He tentatively asked Zhao Zejun, “You coming to play tonight?” while subtly nodding towards Xia Yubing.

Before Zhao Zejun could answer, Xia Yubing turned and gave Yu Zhe a cold, expressionless look.

With her ghostly beauty, Xia Yubing didn’t need makeup to play a classic heroine, and she exuded an air that kept strangers at bay. Most boys, though secretly smitten, were also a little afraid of her.

Yu Zhe, caught in her gaze, felt the hairs on his neck stand up. He forced a smile, “Oh, I get it, I get it. Zejun, I’ll head out first, let’s meet up another time.”

With that, he slung his backpack on and fled the classroom.

“Why’d you scare him like that?” Zhao Zejun shook his head with a helpless chuckle.

“Did I?” Xia Yubing looked innocent.

“I told you, your big eyes can be really intimidating when you stare at someone,” he said.

“My eyes are big?” Xia Yubing stared at him and deliberately blinked.

“Big-eyed girl!” Zhao Zejun laughed.

“Small-eyed boy!” Xia Yubing shot back, unyielding.

After a brief exchange, they both settled down to homework for a while. Once most of the seniors had left, they packed up and headed downstairs, one after the other.

Pushing that battered, old bicycle, they passed the traffic lights. Xia Yubing watched the cars weaving by and asked quietly, “What are you and Yu Zhe up to lately, all secretive?”

“Just hanging out. What else do boys do together?”

“That can’t be it. I’ve heard boys just talk about girls when they’re together.”

“Who told you that?” Zhao Zejun was amused by this little girl.

She didn’t answer, but turned to him with a sly smile. “So, which girls do you talk about?”

Zhao Zejun thought about it and replied earnestly, “We talk about whoever’s pretty.”

“Knew it—nothing good ever comes from two boys together.” Xia Yubing pursed her lips, then suddenly asked, “Are you short on money lately?”

Zhao Zejun was startled. The way a woman’s mind jumped around was something else. How did the conversation get to money?

Still, the girl’s intuition was spot-on. She’d noticed.

“What makes you say that?”

“My mom says a woman can’t go a day without affection, and a man can’t go a day without money,” Xia Yubing replied.

“Your mom got it wrong. It’s women can’t go a day without money, men can’t go a day without power,” Zhao Zejun said.

“I know, but I think my mom’s version is better,” she said indifferently.

Zhao Zejun considered it and agreed—power and money were inseparable anyway.

Seeing he had nothing more to say, Xia Yubing revealed the truth: “I haven’t seen you bring breakfast to class in a long time. You used to eat buns every morning during reading period.”

She was right. Making friends with Yu Zhe was expensive. With no income, his small savings dwindled every time he spent, so he had to cut back wherever possible.

A breakfast cost a couple of yuan a day—over a week, that saved enough for one trip to the internet café with Yu Zhe.

Not wanting to dwell on the topic, Zhao Zejun forced a smile. “When did you become so interested in my daily life, that you even know what I eat for breakfast?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not interested.” Xia Yubing was clearly fighting back a smile, trying to keep a straight face as she exaggerated, “Those chive and pork buns you eat, the smell—ugh, it fills half the classroom.”

Zhao Zejun blushed. Eating buns in a semi-enclosed space really did smell bad, but he had no choice, biking to school every morning and only able to grab breakfast to eat in class.

“How about I lend you some money?” Xia Yubing offered tentatively, then, perhaps fearing his pride, added, “But I’ll charge you interest.”

“No need, but thank you for the offer,” Zhao Zejun said.

His plan to befriend Yu Zhe was nearly complete; the money he had left would be enough.

“Oh, suit yourself. But it’s actually good you’re not eating those buns—the smell was really... well...” Xia Yubing sighed, gazing at the traffic, and muttered to herself, “A man doesn’t need to be handsome or young, as long as he doesn’t choose the wrong bun to eat.”

Zhao Zejun was taken aback. That remark, like the chive buns, had a strange flavor.

Just then, the light turned green, and they naturally walked side by side.

After only a couple of steps, a Xiali taxi making a left turn suddenly sped out of the intersection, whizzing past them less than a meter away.

Startled, Xia Yubing grabbed hold of Zhao Zejun. Even after the car passed, she didn’t let go, but instead slipped her arm through his.

Once they’d crossed the street, she released his arm as if nothing had happened.

Zhao Zejun looked at her, but said nothing.

After forty minutes, they finally reached Xia Yubing’s home: Amber Hill Estate, Yijiang City.

Back in 2001, Amber Estate was one of the few gated luxury communities in Yijiang City. Xia Yubing stopped outside the gate, took out a pink pencil case from her bag, wrote a string of numbers on a piece of decorative paper, and handed it to him. “This is my QQ number.”

Zhao Zejun didn’t take the slip. “You add me. I don’t have a computer at home, so just mark your name. Next time I get online, I’ll approve you.”

“What’s your number?”

He recited his QQ number, and Xia Yubing wrote it on the back of the paper.

After saying goodbye, Zhao Zejun watched as the girl in the sky-blue dress walked into the community.

That brief walk gave Zhao Zejun a new impression of the girl.

Not simple. Interesting.

She probably had a formidable mother, too.

...

Monday morning, Zhao Zejun arrived at class as usual. After sitting down, he stuffed his backpack under the desk.

As soon as his hand reached inside, he felt something warm.

He pulled out a plastic bag with “People’s Bank” printed on it.

Inside were two buns, a sausage, and a warm carton of soybean milk.

There was also a narrow slip of paper:

“Skipping breakfast is bad for your health. Chive buns smell terrible, so I got you mushroom and pork instead,” followed by a tongue-sticking-out smiley.

He looked up at Xia Yubing’s seat. The little girl was reading, eyes fixed on her book, as if unaware of anyone watching her, her profile clear and calm.

After a good half-minute under his gaze, Xia Yubing finally couldn’t hold it in and shot him a glare.

Zhao Zejun smiled, took a big bite of the warm bun, letting the aroma of mushroom and pork fill the air. He deliberately inhaled deeply and, in a voice just loud enough for Xia Yubing to hear, said, “Delicious!”

Sitting diagonally ahead, Xia Yubing’s lips curled into a faint smile.

From that day on, Zhao Zejun once again enjoyed the luxury of a hearty breakfast—better and more nutritious than before.

But man is never satisfied. After a few days of buns, Zhao Zejun felt something was missing.

Perhaps his exaggerated sniffing that day left a deep impression, for every breakfast Xia Yubing brought was exactly the same: two mushroom buns, one sausage, and a small carton of soybean milk.

This combination inevitably made the older Zhao Zejun entertain certain thoughts.

Was the girl hinting at something? Milk, sausage, two buns...

The old man’s imagination ran wild, puffing away like a little steam engine in his mind.