After four years of graduation, they reunited. Although they had all gone through some ups and downs in life, they mostly reminisced about their college days: the cafeteria hot pot, nighttime runs at the field1紫操 literally translated to Purple Field but it’s commonly used to refer to a sports field or a common gathering place on a university campus and the December 9th choral competition.2The December 9th Movement was a mass protest led by students in Beiping on December 9, 1935, to demand that the Chinese government actively resist Japanese aggression. (cr: wikipedia). And apparently, a lot of universities, including Tsinghua Uni actually held a singing competition to commemorate this. That dazzling youth seemed like a small refuge, allowing them to escape from the exhaustion of reality and find temporary rest.
You Jun took out old photos from the choral competition. Because they were required to have uniform makeup, the mischievous girls had painted the boys’ lips bright red, making them look like Crayon Shin-chan.
Wen Di took a look and closed his eyes in pain: “Take it away, take it away.”
“I also have a video of the drama performance from the short term,”3“小学期” (xiǎo xuéqī) translates to ‘short term’ or ‘mini term’, refers to a brief academic session that occurs between the main semesters or terms, usually during the summer or winter break. At my uni, we call it short sem (basically short semester lol) and it’s only offered during summer break. You Jun said.
“Send it to me, send it to me,” Yu Jingyi pulled out her phone.
“Didn’t I already delete it from the cloud drive? Are you guys hiding stuff?” Wen Di was as if facing a formidable enemy. “If it gets out, my reputation will be ruined!”
“How can I destroy the masterpiece I directed?” You Jun turned on the Bluetooth and asked the name of Yu Jingyi’s phone. Wen Di watched the tragedy unfold before his eyes, feeling a helplessness as if the world were ending and he was powerless to stop it.
“I even helped you remove the promotional video from the display screen in the Liberal Arts Building, and this is how you thank me?” Wen Di complained painfully.
You Jun shot a sharp glance at him. “That thing stayed up for five years?”
“It’s gone now.”
“Good,” You Jun said. “That was the failure of my directing career.”
“When you think about it, your directing career was really colorful. You’ve got class stage plays, department promotional videos, and school performances,” Wen Di said. “I even bought a ticket to see The Blossoming Malan.”4This is Tsinghua Uni’s original play. It is a modern original campus drama mainly planned and created by Tsinghua teachers and students, and all the actors are students. The play is themed on praising the older generation of scientists for realizing the Chinese dream. Basically the same as described below.
The Blossoming Malan was T University’s classic play, celebrating the great journey of the older generation of scientists in realizing the Chinese Dream. It was re-staged every year in the concert hall, just like how TV stations repeatedly broadcast My Fair Princess and My Own Swordsman.5My Fair Princess is a very popular drama while My Own Swordsman is a Chinese sitcom that aired in the mid-2000s, known for its unique blend of martial arts, comedy, and satire. Both of these are super popular classics in China Although the script remained unchanged, the actors and directors were replaced each year, and You Jun was the director for their cohort.
“You even said something foolish back then, You wanted to give up your guaranteed spot for graduate school and apply for a master’s in directing at the Film Academy,” Yu Jingyi said.
You Jun burst into laughter. “I already said it was silly talk, why are you still talking about it?”
“You would be an excellent director too.”
“Only you think that.”
Chatting with You Jun was very relaxing. There was no need to think of topics, there would be no dull moments, and you could get a comfortable response at any time. Even though they were on different paths after graduation, the meal was harmonious and lively. After experiencing the hellish awkwardness of dining with Bian Cheng, Wen Di felt a sense of relief.
After eating and drinking, the two girls said that it was a rare opportunity for them to meet each other, and it would be a pity not to go shopping when they came to the business district. Wen Di did not want to disturb the reunion of his girl friends, so he let them go first while he returned to write his paper. He called the waiter to settle the bill, only to find that You Jun had already paid.
“We all ate together, and you secretly paid for everyone,” Wen Di said. “No way, we should split the bill.”
You Jun dismissed his fussing. “I’m a working adult; how could I let a student pay?”
“I’m not a student,” Yu Jingyi took out her phone, “I want to pay.”
Wen Di instinctively reached out to stop her, but You Jun had already wrapped her arm around Yu Jingyi and was gently pushing her out the door. “Do we need to be so polite? If I don’t show off in front of old classmates, what’s the point of making money?”
Wen Di sighed as he watched the girls’ backs disappear into the crowds of Zhongguancun. You Jun covered the bill to take care of Yu Jingyi. Ever since graduation, whenever there was a class reunion, everyone tried to make sure Yu Jingyi didn’t pay. She was sensitive and probably noticed this, but it was unclear whether she saw it as kindness or pressure.
Wasting food is shameful, so after the girls left, Wen Di finished the snacks on the table before leaving the restaurant. He patted his bloated stomach, took out his phone, and wanted to check his unread messages. He pressed the side buttons twice, but nothing happened.
Damn it!
Wen Di long-pressed the power button, tapped the screen repeatedly, and shook it up and down, trying every trick he knew, but the screen remained black.
It shut down on its own again!
Stinginess gets its comeuppance. Yu Jingyi was right, this junky phone should have been repaired long ago.
He looked at the bustling pedestrian street, but the girls were already nowhere to be seen.
Was he supposed to walk back to Heqing Garden from Zhongguancun? A few kilometers wouldn’t be a problem, but he didn’t know the way!
He stood at the entrance of the Japanese restaurant, like a door guardian blocking the way. As he was feeling desperate, a familiar figure walked out from behind him. The trench coat covered the tea stain on the shirt as if the earlier dramatic incident had never happened.
Wen Di jumped in surprise. “Professor!”
Bian Cheng stopped and turned to look at him. Someone thin-skinned would never dare ask their crush for money. Fortunately, this word had nothing to do with Wen Di.
“My phone’s broken, so I can’t take the subway,” Wen Di held up the black screen. “Could you lend me three yuan?”
Bian Cheng said, “I don’t have any cash.”
Just as Wen Di was about to say, “Then could you help me call a taxi?” Bian Cheng asked, “Where do you live?”
“He…” Before revealing himself, Wen Di quickly changed the subject, “The dormitory next to the lotus pond.”
“The West Gate is closer,” Bian Cheng said, “I’ll give you a ride.”
Heqing Garden was located outside the northeast gate, and the distance between the two buildings would be three or four miles, but Wen Di at least knew the way and could find his way back
Bian Cheng asked him to wait at the intersection of the pedestrian street. Wen Di wrapped his coat tighter, pacing back and forth along the curb before a gray Cadillac stopped in front of him and the window of the passenger seat rolled down.
Wen Di, bundled up in his coat, bent down to look, then jogged over. He quickly closed the door and fastened his seatbelt.
Bian Cheng gently pressed the accelerator, and the car glided into the slow-moving traffic. The comfortable, enclosed space, the slight hum of the air conditioning, and the warm airflow from the vents made the night feel clean, subtle, and gentle.
Wen Di glanced at the person beside him. The streetlights casted a pattern of light on his face, shifting and jumping with the flow of traffic. Amidst the changing light and shadows, the face remained serene, and everything inside the car became tranquil. His attitude toward things was as constant and unchanging as his passion for his field.
Wen Di closed his eyes, leaned back in the seat. His consciousness was drifting like a small boat on the river, swaying gently with the car’s slight bumps.
Bian Cheng reached out and turned on the car’s audio system. After some adjustments, a deep and husky female voice began to play. Wen Di heard the line: You had me at ‘hello.’
It was a shame to say that as an English PhD student, he rarely listened to English songs, let alone sang them, knowing nothing about popular music. He felt he hadn’t heard this song before, yet the melody seemed oddly familiar.
That unsettling sense of déjà vu appeared. He had seen it before, it existed, it was so close to me, but he couldn’t touch it. His mind itched with anxiety, unable to scratch, making him impatient.
He stared at the speaker. “This song…”
“Have you heard it before?”
Wen Di’s mind was in turmoil, but he ultimately found nothing. He shook his head. “No impression.”
Bian Cheng didn’t say anything. The car stopped on Chengfu Road, and the woman’s voice was melodious and gentle, expressing her heartfelt feelings.
I want you to love me as if love is invincible.6in English
Wen Di watched the countdown on the red light gradually decreasing, and his heartbeat began to calm. Unaccustomed to the silence of the two-person space, his instinct to find a topic of conversation stirred. After a quick glance, he decided to talk about cars—it did not involve privacy, and it was closely related to the current environment, so it was easy to find a starting point.
“Did Professor just get this car?” He didn’t know much about cars but thought it looked quite new.
“Had it for a few years,” Bian Cheng replied.
“It’s quite comfortable to sit in, and it’s spacious,” Wen Di asked, “I’m not familiar with car brands. Is it expensive?”
“Four hundred thousand.”
With Beijing’s high cost of living and luxury cars all over the streets, four hundred thousand wasn’t considered expensive. “Why did you choose this one?”
“Policy benefits,” Bian Cheng said. “Some models are tax-free for international students.”
This reason was unexpected. Wen Di raised an eyebrow. “How much is the tax exemption?”
“One hundred thousand.”
“How much??”
Bian Cheng glanced at him calmly: “One quarter.”
Such a good deal actually existed in the world! Wen Di began to wonder if exchange students were considered international students. If he had known, he would have bought one during his junior year…
He snorted. He was clearly blinded by love; he didn’t have the money to buy a car. “So, Professor, you’re someone who values cost-performance and discounts,” he said.
Bian Cheng glanced at him. “Do I look rich?”
“En…” Wen Di shrugged. “You don’t seem to be short on money.”
“You think professors at T University earn a lot?”
“Not really,” Wen Di said. “But didn’t Professor win the Future Science Prize last year? That prize has a million-dollar award.”
“That’s split among five people.”
“Oh…” Wen Di said. “What about the Ramanujan Prize and the Cole Algebra Prize?”
Bian Cheng answered the question irrelevantly: “Did you look me up on the Internet?”
“Actually, there’s very little information on the encyclopedia and official website.”
“Do you know anything else besides the awards?”
“Your latest paper is titled ‘Uniqueness of K-Stable Degenerations of Fano Bundles under S-Equivalence.’”
“Do you know what that means?”
Wen Di shook his head: “I don’t understand at all.”7same Wen Di, same
Bian Cheng smiled again, which was rare, and Wen Di asked him what was wrong.
“I really don’t know whether you have a good memory or a bad one,” Bian Cheng said.
Wen Di frowned and was about to ask more questions when Bian Cheng stopped the car and said, “We’re here.”
Wen Di looked at the white marble school gate and didn’t get out of the car. Bian Cheng unlocked the door and turned to look at him, seemingly puzzled about why he was lingering there.
“Thank you so much,” Wen Di said. “I’ll treat Professor to a meal another day.”
Bian Cheng responded, “We always meet over meals.”
Wen Di thought about it and realized it was true. “The desire for food is a basic need ba,” he said. “How about next Saturday?”
Bian Cheng had a strange look in his eyes, but did not refuse.
He reached out his hand to Bian Cheng, who looked at him in confusion.
“Well, someone needs to be able to find you for a meal,” Wen Di smiled. “My phone is broken.”
Bian Cheng hesitated for a moment, then took out his own phone, unlocked it with his fingerprint, and handed it to him.
Wen Di entered his number, added a note, and returned the phone to the professor. His fingers slipped over the other’s palm, the car was warm, but that hand was cold.
Wen Di got out of the car, wrapped his coat tightly, bent down, and looked at the person in the driver’s seat. “You can find my WeChat by searching this number,” he said with a smile. “Remember to come collect your debt.”
Before the window had fully closed, Wen Di had already turned around and walked into the school gate.
The author has something to say:
What a sensible broken phone!
T/N: I was supposed to update this last weekend but things got dragged irl so I’m only free to update today! Anyway, there’ll be update tomorrow too!
The literal translation for the title is ‘Winged Cupid is often depicted as blind’, and I believed the author refers to Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act 1, Scene 1
Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Nor hath Love’s mind of any judgement taste;
Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste.
And therefore is Love said to be a child
Because in choice he is so oft beguiled.
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