After receiving the news that his ex-boyfriend had returned to the country, Wen Di had a heart attack all night long. When he opened his eyes and embraced the morning light, he decided to open his heart and let go of the past. One should not cling to the past but should look forward. If the past caught up, he would give it a slap, making up for the regret of not standing up for himself back then.
Besides, he had a lunch meeting to attend. Thinking of this, a satisfied smile appeared on his face as he arranged the scholarship defense details.
Even returning the USB drive needed a wardrobe show, so the formal lunch was even more exaggerated.
In the morning, Wen Di borrowed some kind of hair spray from Yu Jingyi to fix his hairstyle. The spray had expired for over half a year because it’d been sitting there for a long time, but they both thought it would still work. Wen Di spent fifteen minutes in the bathroom fixing his hair. Yu Jingyi even went downstairs to buy a roll of toilet paper. When she came back, she saw he was still in the bathroom. She knocked on the door and said to the person staring at the mirror, “Stop it, it’s not going to work.”
Wen Di was quite dissatisfied with her attitude: “What I need right now is encouragement.”
Yu Jingyi pointed at the window glass: “Listen to that sound, the wind is so strong outside, and you’re riding a bike. Even if you used super glue, it would be a waste of effort.”
Wen Di took out his phone and opened the weather forecast, grumbling: “Why did they choose today to issue an orange warning?”
Yu Jingyi shook her head and walked away, took a piece of chocolate from the fridge, returned to the bedroom, and closed the door to continue struggling with her essay.
Wen Di put down his hand, looked around, and gave himself a mental pep talk: Beijing’s wind would favor him and blow his hair into a good style.
With a glimmer of hope, he rode his bike to the entrance of Qingfen Garden, walked up the steps, and casually glanced at the glass on the exterior wall of the first floor. He died immediately. The strands of hair on his forehead stood straight up, the top of his head was a tangled mess like a bird’s nest, and though he couldn’t see the back of his head, he guessed it was in no better shape. The hair-setting spray he used in the morning had backfired, and now there was no way to press it back down. Wen Di initially wanted to fix it with his hands but, seeing the time, realized he was running late, so he had to bite the bullet and walk into the cafeteria.
It was noon, and the fourth period of the morning had just ended. The first and second floors were packed with students carrying their lunch trays and looking for seats. However, the cafeteria on the third floor was sparsely populated and Wen Di immediately spotted the professor by the door. To cover up his insecurity about his disheveled appearance, he greeted the professor with an overly cheerful voice: “Good afternoon, Professor!”
Bian Cheng glanced at his head, which resembled an abstract work of art, but made no comment on his hairstyle and didn’t respond to his greeting. He simply stood up and headed toward the food counter, saying, “Let’s get some food.”
Wen Di chose a few vegetarian dishes that would not affect his eating manners and carried his tray gracefully. He walked to the window and sat down, trying to make up for the shortcomings of his hairstyle with his manners.
Normally, he would eat quickly, which was not very elegant —these were bad habits he developed in high school, where lunch breaks were too short and there were always math tests afterward, forcing him to abandon dining etiquette. But today, he ate slowly and deliberately, taking three bites to finish a single long bean. How could he justify the months of throbbing he’d had if this meal that he’d eaten didn’t last the full two hours.
To avoid any awkward silences, he had sent Jiang Nanze a questionnaire before the dinner. The questions covered all aspects of Princeton, from campus trivia to stories about famous people and school traditions. He even added an open-ended question at the end: ‘What is your most cherished memory from Princeton?’ Although Jiang Nanze scolded him for it, he still filled out the survey.
With plenty of material and everything prepared, he believed this meeting would definitely leave a good impression.
Recalling Jiang Nanze’s responses, he eagerly started the conversation: “Professor, did you ever do any math calculations at the Golden Eagle?”
“En.”
“I heard there’s even a course dedicated to Audrey Hepburn there?”
“En.”
“Did Professor ever play for the Princeton Tigers?”
“No.”
When the other person only responded with one word, the conversation moved forward like a machine gun. In just two minutes, Wen Di had asked all his questions and ran out of things to say. Left with no choice, he could only torture the long beans while racking his brain for a topic to talk about.
Bian Cheng looked at him and opened his mouth for the first time, as if he wanted to say something. This was the first time the professor took the initiative to speak, so Wen Di straightened his back, like a class representative who raised his hand and was called by the teacher.
Then Bian Cheng asked: “Do you have a toothache?”
Wen Di put down the half-chewed bean, feeling awkward. “No, I just have a habit of chewing a bit more.”
Bian Cheng nodded, took a sip of water, and then another round of silence began.
No way, how could the dinner that he had arranged with great difficulty be a dull one? Wen Di was determined to save the dull dinner by himself: “What do you do in your free time, Professor?”
“Listen to music.”
“Not into working out?”
“Rock climbing.”
“Oh…” Wen Di’s mind flashed with the muscle lines of his upper arms, and he forgot to maintain his posture, resting his cheek on his hand while absentmindedly biting on a straw. The other end of the straw missed the cup entirely, and he ended up sucking in a mouthful of air. “I thought professors were usually super busy.” Old Liu often piled odd jobs on him, but he was always swamped with work himself. After all, a liberal arts professor’s salary in Beijing was not enough, and he could only make a living by relying on a side job.
“Exercising helps relax the mind, and it’s easier to get inspired,” Bian Cheng replied.
“So, does Professor also play soccer or basketball or something?”
“No,” Bian Cheng said, “I prefer solo sports.”
Figures, Wen Di thought. The professor didn’t seem like the type to enjoy team activities. If he were that aloof when playing basketball, his teammates would probably be on the verge of a heart attack. “Do you have any other hobbies?”
Bian Cheng said, “Listening to music also helps clear the mind.”
“What kind of music do you like, Professor?”
“Classical music.”
He must be really knowledgeable about music theory, Wen Di thought. People like him tend to approach their hobbies just like their academic work—digging deep and getting to the bottom of things.
Bian Cheng stared at him intently, but his gaze seemed to pass right through him, falling on something far away. “You…” he began.
“En?” Wen Di came to his senses and waited for the rest of the words.
“What’s your English name?” Bian Cheng asked. “You’re a student in the Department of Foreign Languages, so you must have an English name.”
It was a reasonable inference, but asking a student’s English name as the first question during a first meeting? That was a bit odd.
“Samuel,” Wen Di replied. “My classmates call me Sam.”
Bian Cheng gave him that same look again—analyzing, dissecting, but taking ages to reach any conclusion. After asking for his English name, he focused on his meal and didn’t say another word until he placed his tray at the return counter.
As a typical extrovert from the Department of Foreign Languages, Wen Di was nearly driven crazy.
Finally, as they were leaving the cafeteria, Bian Cheng opened his mouth. Wen Di waited for what felt like an eternity, only to hear three words: “Are you full?”
Wen Di: “En.”
Bian Cheng nodded, as if acknowledging that he had fulfilled his promise. Wen Di frowned; he had no excuse for another meeting. It seemed that his connection with his crush was doomed to end here.
He searched his mind over and over but couldn’t find a reason to ask for another meeting. Feeling a bit dejected, he shoved his hands into his pockets and stared blankly ahead, like a squirrel that had just had its acorn stolen.
When he raised his head, he found Bian Cheng looking at him with a slight smile on his face.
Wen Di had never seen the Math professor smile before. In class, Bian Cheng was as serious as if he were on a pilgrimage, embracing the light of mathematical wisdom. Even at meals, he was so serious, as if it was purely for the purpose of fulfilling his physical needs, capable of crushing any chef’s confidence.
But this smile was like the morning sun breaking through the night. The corners of his eyes lifted slightly, his gaze softened, and gentle smile lines formed parentheses on either side of his face. The usually stern and rigid man looked bright and warm when he smiled.
“Goodbye,” he said, “and good luck with your studies.”
That simple phrase kept Wen Di’s heart fluttering all night. He smiled as he messed around in the gusty wind, smiled as he walked up the stairs, and even when he mopped the floor, he smiled happily at the plastic rod. As soon as Yu Jingyi returned home from work, she was startled by this patient with dysregulation of his laughing muscles.
“Sigh,” Wen Di said to the window glass, “Professor is really a good person.”
Yu Jingyi glanced at the time and decided to dedicate fifteen minutes to her friend’s love life. After all, she had asked for an update earlier. Besides, Wen Di looked a bit off. “Tell me in details.”
She hadn’t even sat down before Wen Di started recounting the whole event in great detail. The meal itself only lasted a few minutes, but he managed to turn it into an epic tale. After listening to this, Yu Jingyi showed an embarrassed and sympathetic expression.
“You are such an extreme person,” Yu Jingyi said. “When you like someone, you put eight hundred layers of filters on them. When you don’t like them anymore, they’re as good as dead to you. You need to learn balance.”
“What do you mean?” Wen Di bristled.
“That meal you had—just listening to it makes me want to dig a hole and burrow into the center of the earth,” Yu Jingyi said. “You were the only one chattering away. Did he even pay attention to you?”
“He asked for my English name.”
“He probably just felt sorry for you and was trying to find something to talk about,” Yu Jingyi said. “It’s like when the elders ask you what you’ve been up to during the New Year.”
“He’s only three years older than me.”
“His mental age might not be.”
Wen Di glared at her.
Yu Jingyi sighed. After months of unrequited love, he finally moved a step forward, so she couldn’t be too discouraging: “It’s quite good. Having a meal alone together, rounding it off, you could call it a date.”
Wen Di was still reminiscing about that smile. “It would have been better if he had said a few more words…”
Yu Jingyi got up to head back to her room, leaving Wen Di alone at the table, sighing deeply. After mopping the floor, he went to the balcony to collect the laundry.
Wen Di and his senior were tenants and didn’t have the authority to manage the balcony, so they didn’t seal the windows. With the heavy dust in Beijing, it had to be cleaned every two days. If he skipped it occasionally, like now, a thin layer of dust would accumulate.
As soon as he opened the balcony door, Wen Di revealed a bitter smile. The wind was indeed really strong today. He was lazy and didn’t use a clothespin, so several pieces of clothes were blown to the ground and had to be washed again. While picking up the clothes, he breathed through his teeth, knowing that washing clothes at this hour would disturb Yu Jingyi’s sleep. If he delayed until tomorrow, the stains on the clothes would bother him like a persistent lump in his throat.
He checked the clothes in his hands to see what had happened and suddenly noticed something unusual.
There were two pieces of clothing that didn’t seem to be his.
Size 190 was definitely not Yu Jingyi’s clothes.
He checked the wind direction and suddenly felt a chill down his spine.
Could these have been blown over from the neighbor’s balcony?
He stood up and looked towards the balcony next door. It seemed that there were indeed a few empty hooks on the clothes drying rack…
The good mood he’d built up during the day turned into bubbles. How unlucky, Wen Di thought. On a perfect day, he now had to deal with this.
He went back to his room, took out his phone and switched to his secondary account, and took the person out of the blacklist. He snapped a picture of the clothes and sent it: [Are these yours? The wind blew them onto my balcony.]
The neighbor replied quickly: “Yes.”
Usually, they1using they because there is no specific mention of gender here wouldn’t listen to reason, but they were quite proactive about claiming lost items. Wen Di was about to type, “I’ll throw them back onto the balcony,” when he received a message saying, “I’ll come get them.”
Wen Di jumped up in surprise. What was this person up to?
Before he could react, the doorbell rang.
The author has something to say:
Wen Di: Why didn’t the professor say a few more words?
Author: If he had said more, he would have made you angry to death.
Translator’s Note:
Title is actually (新的火焰可以把旧的火焰扑灭；literally translated to ‘a new flame can extinguish an old flame’) from Romeo and Juliet Act 1, Scene 2
新的火焰可以把旧的火焰扑灭；大的苦痛可以使小的苦痛减轻。
Literally translated to: A new flame can extinguish an old flame; great pain can lessen small pain.
Original English version
one fire burns out another’s burning,
One pain is lessened by another’s anguish;
