That person’s arrow was very thick and very clear, so eye-catching that even someone like her, who was a bit zibei [low self-esteem], could notice it, perceive it, and realize — yes, in his eyes, she was the only choice.
One cannot be too greedy, and also not RMB [Chinese yuan; cultural expression meaning “not money, so not everyone will like you”], cannot let everyone favor you — having one is enough.
“Winter Solstice is coming soon, then a while later it’s Ping’an Festival and Christmas Eve. Since you’ve just resigned, come and have a reunion dinner.”
In the living room, a white table and a wood-colored table were placed facing each other. Nan Zhi sat at the white table side, Song Qing at the wood-colored table side.
When taking the call, Nan Zhi had been drawing. Even now she hadn’t left — just stayed seated in the same place. The two of them were very close, so close that when the speakerphone was turned on, the voice from the phone could be heard clearly from here too.
Song Qing’s hand, typing on the keyboard, paused. The room was already quiet — only the sounds he made. After he stopped, it became even more silent. The atmosphere became so strange that even Nan Zhi noticed something was wrong, and turned her head toward him slightly.
Song Qing’s fingers curled a bit and scratched at the keyboard.
“No.”
Under his close watch, Nan Zhi rejected clearly, “This year I’ll be with my roommates. We even planned to go to a concert in a few days. It’s rare to not have work — we want to enjoy and play a bit.”
Nan Zhi had actually always known what he was paying attention to, and didn’t disappoint him. After she spoke, one could almost see with the naked eye that he relaxed slightly, resumed typing on the keyboard, and the regular tapping sound once again filled the room.
Nan Zhi also curled the corner of her mouth. “Help me wish Dad and Mom a Happy Winter Solstice, same for big sister and little brother. I won’t go, but the gifts will arrive.”
After saying that, before her parents could react and ask whether the roommate was male or female, she told them her roommate was waiting for her, then hung up. After hanging up, she found that Song Qing was looking at her.
Nan Zhi asked him, “Looking at what?”
“Nothing,” Song Qing turned his face away. After a little while, he turned his head back and asked her, “What do you eat for Winter Solstice?”
Nan Zhi answered as if it was natural and obvious, “Of course we eat tangyuan \[汤圆; glutinous rice balls, symbolizing reunion].”
She remembered something and asked back: “What about you all? What do you locals eat?”
Song Qing seriously thought about it. “We eat dumplings, probably.”
He couldn’t clearly remember. He only knew that whenever there was some special day, that family would just tell him, “We’ll cook dumplings tomorrow,” or “We’ll cook zongzi the day after,” and because they were afraid he’d freeload food and drink, they wouldn’t tell him what festival it was at all.
He wasn’t interested in these things either, so he didn’t have a strong impression of what is eaten on Winter Solstice.
He only knew that dumplings were eaten for the New Year, so probably also for Winter Solstice. The number of times tangyuan was made was fewer than dumplings.
“Then let’s cook both tangyuan and dumplings.” Nan Zhi decided so casually. “We’ll combine your side and our side.”
Song Qing had no opinion — he listened to her in everything.
Because there were still two days until Winter Solstice, there was no rush to prepare. He buried his head back into work again, saving time in advance for Winter Solstice, Christmas, and Ping’an Night, and the concert.
Now he did what needed to be done in advance, so that when the time came, he could play with peace of mind.
Next to him, Nan Zhi had already forgotten what she’d just said, and was playing on her phone. After idling too long, her hands got cold, so she shoved her claws into Song Qing’s neck, freezing him a bit while warming her own hands.
Song Qing, as usual, hissed an “si—” from the cold, but he was already used to it. Once he adjusted to the temperature difference, he returned to normal and continued fiddling with the computer.
Nan Zhi couldn’t stand how serious he looked. Heaven knows she just liked the way he hissed when she froze him, so she shoved her other hand into his chest from the front, froze him again, and when she heard the noise she wanted, her hand became dishonest, roaming around, caressing the surface of his skin.
Song Qing had the smoothest skin she’d ever seen, and also the fairest skin after taking off clothes — like a peeled egg, not exaggerated at all.
She knew the reason — this guy was always super serious when showering, scrubbing himself until red. Even the delicate areas would get scrubbed until the skin broke.
She knew about it because a few days ago, when applying medicine to his abrasions, she saw it.
Maybe it was because she always didn’t wear gloves and didn’t feel anything herself — instead, he washed even more diligently.
The first and second time, she thought it was already over and didn’t pay attention. In the end, there was a third, fourth time.
Maybe he was afraid she would dislike him, so later, he always let her apply the medicine after he finished bathing.
Fresh out of the bath, all dewy and tender, his body was clean, smooth, and carried a fragrance.
He rubbed his own skin until it broke, and then asked her to open up those areas and carefully apply medicine.
After that, he didn’t dare to scrub that hard again — but every time he came out, he was still red, like he had been abused.
Chest, back, collarbones — everywhere.
Nan Zhi seriously told him that doing this would damage his skin barrier and give bacteria an opportunity to invade.
Once they settled on the surface, it would easily lead to redness, infection, and festering — not good.
It scared him enough to obediently accept treatment.
All the red areas and places where the skin had been rubbed raw — none were spared. She applied medicine to each and every one.
Actually, the reason it wasn’t healing was purely because he scrubbed too hard.
And another reason — he did it too often. The front foot had just healed, the back foot got rubbed raw again.
The knife wound from before had just healed, the scar was messed with so much that it disappeared again, and it bled.
Finally the knife wound got better, and then other parts started breaking again.
Nan Zhi applied medicine to him for over ten days straight and ended up scaring him.
Before, after his showers, he’d take the initiative to come to her — either sitting in the wheelchair, clothes pulled off, ready for her to start, or lying on the bed, occasionally doing other things, even knew to wait for her.
Later, once he saw her bringing out the medical kit, he ran.
After getting him an electric wheelchair, in the past she could still catch him — now she could only watch him speed away.
Couldn’t catch up anymore. The most she could do was play hide-and-seek with him, intercepting him on a path he had to pass, or making some noise to pretend she was chasing him, but actually doubling back to block him from the other side.
This guy wasn’t as sly as she was, and the wheelchair wasn’t so agile — couldn’t instantly turn around.
So she had a 100% success rate of catching him.
After all, the house was only that big — no matter what, he couldn’t run away.
If not now, then sooner or later he’d still be doomed.
Just a fish about to be laid on the chopping board, making one last struggle.
And he could only mess around like this while still in the wheelchair.
Once taken out of it — wherever he was placed, he stayed.
He couldn’t even struggle.
Maybe it was because she applied medicine on him every day — now he had a bit of an attitude like his whole body had been seen already, a dead pig unafraid of boiling water, a whatever-kind-of posture.
Nan Zhi’s hand was already reaching toward his chest, but he was still properly typing out code.
Nan Zhi’s hand went a bit too far — and he still didn’t react.
—
Song Qing had actually already noticed.
When he switched to the pure black screensaver, the reflection showed the person behind him and their movements.
He wasn’t a wooden man.
He had long since noticed the hand on his chest.
But he always thought that Nan Zhi was just putting on an act — in reality, she wouldn’t actually do anything.
On her account, she had drawn dozens of teasing illustrations of him — today in women’s clothing, tomorrow being pressed onto the bed and bullied — but in real life, she was a coward, didn’t dare to do anything.
So he calmly continued reviewing the code, inserting fixes into the places where bugs had appeared.
When he ran this software in the virtual interface, it still wouldn’t operate.
Fix one bug and a bunch of new ones popped up.
If he didn’t fix them, it felt uncomfortable.
Song Qing repeatedly modified and tested.
By the time he finished, Nan Zhi’s hand had still only stayed on his chest.
As expected — in real life, just a coward.
Only dared to run her mouth.
Song Qing got thirsty.
When he picked up his teacup, Nan Zhi had already pulled her hand back and gone to sit to the side, browsing for Winter Solstice gifts to give her parents, big sister, and younger brother.
So Winter Solstice was for gift-giving?
This was his first time knowing.
Turns out on her side, Winter Solstice was kind of important.
No wonder he didn’t have any impression of it at all.
Ping’an Festival and Christmas Eve weren’t traditional holidays in the country — whether you celebrated or not was up to you.
He had never celebrated.
When he was still with his parents, maybe.
But after going to live with his uncle and aunt, even less so.
No one gave him gifts.
He didn’t give gifts either.
During times like these, he was like an invisible person.
Now, even if he wanted to give something, he couldn’t — because he had no money on him.
All the money was with Nan Zhi.
But counting the days, that overseas payment should be arriving soon. That overseas money was a bit different — it couldn’t be transferred directly into Nan Zhi’s account, only to a specific account first, and then transferred to her. That money he could manage on his own.
What was Nan Zhi lacking?
Nan Zhi wasn’t lacking anything. For a moment, he really couldn’t think of what to give her.
Instead, over there, Nan Zhi, after selecting for a while, started looking toward him.
Song Qing knew that the gifts included a share for him too. Nan Zhi never forgot to buy him a gift — every time she bought for others, there was his too. And even when there were no gifts for others, there was still his.
In other people’s eyes, he was grass. But in Nan Zhi’s eyes, he was treasure.
Many times, even before he himself realized he needed something, she could — and then gave him all sorts of gifts, just right, exactly what he would use.
For example, the handrails in the bathroom — now there were handrails installed on both sides of the toilet, and in the shower too.
Maybe it was related to that one time he slipped, hand braced on the tile wall. In any case, now it existed.
The wheelchair was also changed to an electric one.
Actually, he didn’t go out much. At most he’d go to the nearby supermarket to buy groceries, or look at books — all within walking distance — a manual one would have sufficed.
But one time, she suddenly got curious, carried him to the sofa, sat in his wheelchair herself, and after circling around once, somehow ended up grabbing his hand.
His palm and fingertips were full of calluses — because the manual wheelchair was actually quite heavy. When the road was long, pushing it for a while became tiring. Over time, it wore out calluses.
After Nan Zhi found out, she thought of solutions everywhere — and then discovered the electric wheelchair. Even one with a two-person seat. That’s what they bought now.
Nowadays, for close distances without driving, he could carry Nan Zhi while riding the wheelchair.
Nan Zhi understood better than he did what he needed.
She would definitely be able to choose a suitable gift for him. As for him — not necessarily.
—
After dinner in the evening, Nan Zhi had already finished buying the gifts — for her parents, sister, and younger brother. Same as every year, not cheap. Every holiday, she had that feeling of “painfully losing a sum of money.”
Choosing a gift for Song Qing was much simpler. Didn’t need to pick expensive ones — this guy, whether cheap or expensive, as long as it was given by her, would treasure it no matter what it was.
As for his gift — no need to think about it.
This guy right now didn’t even have a few hundred yuan on him. Just bought a cloud server.
Didn’t even have the money for taxes. He just notified her about it — no money to pay taxes, needed this much.
Also needed to handle all sorts of messy stuff — needed a sum for that too, came to ask her for a sum.
Nan Zhi always had this illusion — that the two of them already seemed like they were married, like an old married couple.
Otherwise, what kind of guy would hand over all his money to her to keep, and when he needed some, had to ask her for it one sum at a time?
Seven or eight in the evening was when the supermarket was about to close — it was also the time when discounts started and haggling was possible.
After living with Song Qing for so long, she also knew this.
So she tidied up, ready to go with him, to go fleece the supermarket.
While putting on her coat, she thought — people living together really did influence each other.
For example, now she was like Song Qing too — knew all about supermarket promos and insider tricks, even fussed over a single dime.
She used to be too lazy to pick up 50 cents if it dropped on the ground. Now even 10-cent bottle returns, she would bring to the store — because she knew it made Song Qing happy.
Song Qing would also buy her fried starch sausages, hot-and-sour noodles, snail noodles [luósīfěn, known for their strong fermented smell], etc. when they went out.
For someone as stingy as him — whatever she asked him to buy, he’d buy. However many portions she asked for, that’s how many he’d get.
They’d eat them together.
At the beginning, just smelling snail noodles almost made him gag — couldn’t eat it. Later, he could even face it without any expression and finish a bowl.
Nan Zhi finished putting on her coat — then suddenly realized this was the one that got torn that night they went to the riverside to play, helping the old lady pick up plastic bottles.
She had lots of clothes like this — having too many made her a bit careless, not cherishing them, thinking of replacing them with new ones.
That night, after taking it off, she hung it by the door and didn’t care about it anymore.
Later she bought a new one — cared even less about this one.
Didn’t even remember when it had been washed. Didn’t know when it got hung by the door again.
In between, she had even worn it out once to pick up a package.
Back then, she hadn’t even realized it was torn.
Nan Zhi had just been about to take it off and change into another, but when she lowered her head, she saw that the place where threads had come loose — where a tree branch had snagged and pulled up a tuft of fuzz — had been embroidered with a small flower.
Very small, just right — perfectly covering up the damaged spot, and nothing more.
Nan Zhi pulled the hem over for a closer look.
The color was almost completely blended with the coat — if you didn’t look closely, you wouldn’t see it at all. If you really stared at it, you’d find that the craftsmanship was quite good — embroidered neatly and finely.
As for this flower — needless to say, it must’ve been embroidered by Song Qing.
The one who washed it, hung it up — 100% also him.
When did he even do it? She really didn’t know.
Nan Zhi went to check her canvas bag. She remembered one of them had a hole inside — caused by carrying an overloaded lunchbox.
At first, she hadn’t noticed. It was only when the car keys fell into the lining and couldn’t be found that she realized it.
Originally, she didn’t want it anymore — just hadn’t found the chance to throw it away. She admitted it, she was kind of lazy.
Now, after rummaging through several bags, she finally pulled that one out, deliberately opened it and checked the inside — it was perfectly intact.
Or rather, had been repaired by Song Qing.
Nan Zhi flipped the bag inside out to look at the place where the hole had been near the bottom.
The needlework was excellent — you really couldn’t tell it had ever been sewn.
Even though it used to be such a big hole.
Outside the door, Song Qing waited for a long time without seeing her come out. He called out to urge her: “Ready yet?”
Nan Zhi came out wearing the coat embroidered with a flower and carrying the once-broken bag.
She stepped onto the rear footrest of Song Qing’s wheelchair, and let him carry her off to the supermarket to hunt for deals.
Her mood was very good.
Going out now had become more and more convenient.