Between Us : Chapter 27: Thanks Sis

On a small carved round table near the balcony, bathed in the warm December sun, Chen Qian and Xu Jue sat at opposite ends, each enjoying the artfully plated lunch delivered by room service.

The phone on his left vibrated nonstop. The folks from Xian Middle School loved to squeeze in some screen time during the lunch break, and messages kept scrolling through the group chat.

Qiu Yuanfei: @Xu Jue, where are you? You skipped the physics quiz this morning. How do you think Old Wu feels, seeing you like his own son?

Old Wu was their physics teacher and also the grade director for the second year. Xu Jue replied: He approved my leave slip.

Qiu Yuanfei: Your blank exam paper lies quietly on the desk, just like my blank brain sits quietly in the exam hall.

Xu Jue: Haha.

Wei Xiaoduo: Didn’t study, serves you right!

Qiu Yuanfei: Wei Xiaoduo, I didn’t mess with you today! Why are you dissing me!

Wei Xiaoduo: Xu Jue, ignore him. I’m telling you, the English scores actually came out a while ago, they just haven’t opened the sealed envelopes yet. I checked your score for you.

Qiu Yuanfei: How did you match the names if they haven’t opened the sealed envelopes?

Wei Xiaoduo: Messy handwriting is everywhere, but Xu Jue’s calligraphy is one in ten thousand. Didn’t he do our class blackboard every semester for free?

Xu Jue: So, can I change my profile pic now?

Wei Xiaoduo: Just barely above the excellent line, 101 points. Congrats!

“Xu Jue.” Chen Qian suddenly called out.

Xu Jue looked up. “What’s up?”

Chen Qian had finished eating and was resting his chin in his hand, looking at him lazily. “Turn off your phone screen and turn it back on. Let’s see if the face recognition still recognizes you.”

Xu Jue instinctively tensed his expression to do as told, but before he could press the screen off, he realized Chen Qian meant he was smiling too brightly.

“Smartphones aren’t stupid.” Xu Jue set down his phone, cut a piece of cooled steak, dipped it in sauce, and put it in his mouth.

Chen Qian picked up his drink, and before leaving his seat, tossed out a line. “Who knows who was grinning like an idiot at the screen.”

The eggnog was sweet and creamy with soft notes of cinnamon. The full cup of fragrance almost healed his brain, woozy from a morning of bumpy travel, but it also made his mind clear enough to pick up on an unresolved question from earlier. On that bus this morning, packed with so many people, who exactly was the one with the prettiest eyes?

Just now, was Xu Jue grinning at his constantly vibrating phone because of her?

While he was mulling it over, Chen Qian finished his drink, hung his camera around his neck, and glanced out of the corner of his eye toward Xu Jue by the small round table. The other had finished eating too, pocketed his phone, and moved over. “Let’s go.”

The hotel had a shuttle bus straight to the town. The route was built along the coast, and cool sea breeze squeezed in through the windows. Refreshing in summer, but in winter it was freezing.

Xu Jue hadn’t considered this when he got in. Before his backside had even warmed the seat, he got up to switch places with Chen Qian by the window. “So hot, let me have the window seat this time.”

About fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the town. Chen Qian got off first, Xu Jue followed right behind. Before the other could turn around, he rubbed his frozen hands and stuffed them into his pockets.

Different from the Chinese modern architecture they were used to seeing, the town’s style completely reproduced the classical beauty of southern France. The buildings uniformly used haze blue roofs and light gray brick walls, the color palette simple and elegant.

In the center of the square, a stone carved fountain burbled pleasantly. Beside the cobblestone path stood a sculpture of a woman playing the violin, her eyes slightly lifted, gazing toward the grand and solemn spired church.

With so much beautiful scenery, Chen Qian, clutching his camera, was not in a hurry to record it. Instead, he turned and ran toward a corner convenience store. So Xu Jue, carrying his sketchpad, also betrayed his artistic spirit for once, trailing slowly behind Chen Qian.

Chen Qian was jogging, his soft hair strands trembling, looking unusually lively. Xu Jue inexplicably had an illusion that the Chen Qian before him was completely different from the affected, pretentious vibe at the nightclub. As if this was how he was supposed to be all along.

Something soft brushed against his leg. Xu Jue suddenly came back to his senses, blocked by a bright-eyed yellow Shiba Inu, its inviting tail not yet put away.

The Shiba Inu had a leash around its neck, the other end tied to a lamppost. Xu Jue squatted down, and it timidly stepped back. Xu Jue raised his hand, and it quickly lay down, its eyes peeping upward at the visitor.

Xu Jue pressed his broad palm on the dog’s head and rubbed it, then ruffled those trembling airplane ears. “You’re such a scaredy cat.”

Glancing at Chen Qian talking to the shop owner a few meters away, Xu Jue quietly said to the dog, “Me too.”

Chen Qian came back with drinks, two cups of hot chocolate, holding one in each hand as he stood behind Xu Jue. “Puppy.”

Xu Jue turned slightly, looking up at him from his squatting position. “What kind of dog gets a name like that? See, it won’t even respond to you.”

Chen Qian also squatted down, tapping the Shiba Inu’s nose with the paper cup. “Puppy, want a drink?”

“It can’t drink that,” Xu Jue hurriedly stopped him, his science student brain starting to run wild. “Hot chocolate contains theobromine and caffeine. Dogs are strictly forbidden from consuming it.”

Chen Qian smiled, a shallow one, the kind that face recognition could pick up. He placed the slightly hot paper cup into Xu Jue’s hand, generously saying. “Then you drink it for it.”

The simplest passing motion, warm soft fingertips accidentally brushing against Xu Jue’s. Blame the frozen senses that are always most sensitive to heat sources. Xu Jue steadily caught the paper cup. In that instant, what came to mind was that snowy day when Chen Qian had bought him a cup of coffee with milk, a complete stranger.

Having snatched the hot chocolate from the dog, Xu Jue felt sorry for the Shiba Inu whose head he had rubbed for so long. He pressed the paper cup against the dog’s face, took out his phone, and snapped a photo of it. “Come on, shout with me. Thanks sis!”

Chen Qian nearly choked. “Who are you calling sis?”

Xu Jue had already taken the photo, saved it, and conveniently set it as his WeChat profile pic, speaking with conviction. “Only when you shout ‘sis’ does your mouth spread into a grin. Back in elementary school class trips for group photos, would you shout ‘pumpkin’? You’d only shout ‘cheese,’ right?”

Even Chen Qian, who loved to mess with people the most, got tangled up by Xu Jue’s logic this time. By the time he came back to his senses, Xu Jue had already walked over to the fountain.

They say photography is the art of using light. Right now, warm golden sunlight was cast onto the surging and flowing water. Xu Jue’s blue and white school uniform reflected the shimmering light from the bottom of the pool, as if draped in a piece of the sea.

Chen Qian never let a beautiful frame slip by. He quickly raised his camera, adjusted the settings, and snapped a photo. Hearing the sound, Xu Jue turned around, and he pressed the shutter again to rapidly capture a few more shots.

“Don’t make me look dumb.” Xu Jue said.

Chen Qian walked over with his camera. “Probably can’t get much dumber than you already are.”

The two of them stood together by the fountain pool. Only then did Chen Qian notice the bottom of the pool was covered with coins, like stars that had fallen into the water.

“Is this one of those toss a coin, make a wish gimmicks?” Xu Jue had seen plenty growing up. “These are all scams to…”

Before he could finish, a silver arc flashed before his eyes. Chen Qian had already thrown a coin in.

“That’s a loud and clear wish.” Xu Jue changed his tune. To appear more sincere, he also fished out a coin. Before tossing it in, he asked Chen Qian, “What did you wish for?”

Chen Qian wouldn’t tell him. “If you say it out loud, it won’t come true.”

“Fine then.” Xu Jue flicked his finger. The coin flipped up and fell down, splashing a circle of ripples on the water surface.

Wish for world peace. Wish I get into Tsinghua. Wish Chen Qian could love me.

The coin sank to the bottom, landing right next to Chen Qian’s.

Coming out from the side door of the church, there was a clear flower stream, with a half arch bridge lying across it, connecting to the wall bridge that encircled more than half the town.

The travel guide said climbing the wall bridge would give you a bird’s eye view of the entire town. The scenery captured from high places was the most comprehensive. Chen Qian wanted to go up and take a look. He turned around to ask Xu Jue’s opinion. “Are you afraid of getting tired?”

He wasn’t some old or weak person, Xu Jue said helplessly. “I’ve done a fifty kilometer hike before.”

Even though halfway through he detoured to Pizza Hut.

Chen Qian deliberately ran toward the highest point. He ran a stretch, stopped to find an angle and snap a few photos, then continued running. That enthusiasm, that serious attitude, was exactly like someone who had been paid in full to do a promotional shoot.

Walking and shooting, Chen Qian stuffed nearly two hundred photos into his camera. Among them was not lacking a youth in school uniform, a free model picked up for nothing. Sketching and drawing, Xu Jue held his sketchpad and captured several fine landscapes. He was good at drawing buildings, but right now he was putting effort into the human figures blending into the scenery.

They spent about an hour on the wall bridge. The hot chocolate was reduced to an inconvenient empty paper cup. Chen Qian leaned against the wall looking down. “Xu Jue, what do you think of the design of that ice cream hut across the way?”

Xu Jue closed his sketchpad. “I think their ice cream should be pretty good.”

Chen Qian said. “Let’s go.”

Licking their ice cream as they came out of the shop, Chen Qian noticed there really was a French person at the other end of the square. Golden hair, deep eye sockets. Even if not French, he was from some other country. He was doing portraits for tourists.

“Xu Jue.”

Xu Jue never licked his ice cream. He bit it. One bite took out half a scoop. A few bites and the decorative rim of the cone was gone. He stole a glance at Chen Qian licking his double scoop in rotation, tongue curling the cream into his mouth, a white smudge on his lip bead, more beautiful than all the scenery.

“Xu Jue,” Chen Qian turned his face to look at him, “what do you think of that painter across the way?”

Xu Jue crunched through the remaining cone. He didn’t comment on looks, nor did he guess at skill. He condensed it into the answer Chen Qian wanted. “Let’s go, take a look.”

Once they were standing right in front of the guy’s easel, it definitely wouldn’t just be a look. The painter spoke fluent English inviting them to sit down, warmly telling the two young tourists to just relax and interact. Ten minutes of modeling time didn’t need to be stiff.

Although Xu Jue’s English level had reached the point of changing his profile pic, it was far from Chen Qian’s ability to chat freely with foreign friends. Taking advantage of the fact that the foreign friend’s Chinese wasn’t good enough to understand Chinese conversation, he tilted his head and said to Chen Qian. “I’m super stiff, you know?”

Chen Qian hadn’t finished his ice cream yet, but he held the cone and ate very relaxedly. “The master told you not to be stiff.”

Under the streetlamp, a street performer was playing a saxophone piece called “A Moment,” a lingering and tender style, very suitable for lovers stepping into the marriage hall.

And directly across was the church. The solemn and grand high vaulted building fell into Chen Qian’s eyes. In this instant, it became a painting in Xu Jue’s mind. “I don’t feel like we’re here to pose for his painting.”

Chen Qian had finished his ice cream, his throat a bit thick. “Like what?”

Xu Jue organized his words, making his tone sound mostly speechless, with the expectation hidden. “I feel like we’re here to take wedding photos, damn it.”

At this moment, the painter looked up from behind his easel and said in Chinese with not quite standard pronunciation but fluent spoken delivery. “It does look a bit like that.”