Before going to Shanghai, Zhan Xi had dreamed about spending weekends there visiting Little Fish for three days and two nights. After visiting Shanghai, she completely gave up on this idea after realizing how exhausting Luo Jingyu’s coursework really was.
That day at the hotpot restaurant, she added Shao Jie and others on WeChat, doubling her mutual WeChat friends with Little Fish.
During his advanced studies, Luo Jingyu never posted any Moments, but his classmates would post regularly at 1 AM, 2 AM, 3 AM, showing off their completed assignments and celebrating “Finally done, time to sleep!”
Looking at the flowers they made, Zhan Xi could picture Luo Jingyu sitting quietly at his desk. He would hold the pressing iron and carefully press each petal, his expression deeply focused.
Sister Zhu told Zhan Xi that the advanced course was always like this – immense pressure and little sleep, but everyone put in their all. Those willing to pay and attend weren’t afraid of hard work.
Shao Jie added that during the middle phase, they would get two breaks. Rather than sleeping in their rooms, they would go out to observe nature, looking at real wildflowers and grasses, and even have field observation assignments.
This pressed flower style pursued natural wildness, creating works with delicate and lifelike details, unlike other schools that emphasized exaggerated luxury.
Shao Jie said craftspeople needed patience above all. They had all started learning pressed flowers only in the past decade. Before that, these sisters shared something in common with Luo Jingyu – they loved crafts since childhood, could stay focused, had very nimble hands, and could sit still for hours once they sat down.
“Very few boys can sit still like Little Fish,” Little Din pointed at Luo Jingyu while talking to Zhan Xi. “Though the Japanese master is male, so seeing Little Fish so passionate about it feels quite normal to us. This is both a hobby and career. I’m really happy doing it – I open my shop three or four times a year, earn over 100-200 thousand, which feels better than a regular job, plus I can take care of my kids at home.”
Besides giving up on going to Shanghai, Zhan Xi also stopped chatting with Luo Jingyu on WeChat at night.
She didn’t know before, but now she understood that those one or two hours before bed were actually Luo Jingyu’s busiest time. Thinking about how Little Fish would still have to stay up late after chatting with her made her heart ache, so she moved their chat time to lunch breaks and dinner time instead.
They would exchange a few casual words each day. Zhan Xi told him not to worry about her and focus on studying – it was just over a month until he finished his major assignment and could return to Qiantang.
Zhan Xi really did sign up for dance classes at “Autumn Wind Arts,” attending twice a week to learn modern dance as a complete beginner.
She loved the sweaty feeling while dancing, loved Teacher Qiu’s life attitude, loved the energetic atmosphere when dancing together with other students in the classroom.
The students included teenagers in their teens, office workers in their twenties like Zhan Xi, and even a sister in her thirties.
The sister danced very well and during casual chat told Zhan Xi that she was already a mother of two, but dancing had always been her dream, and her husband was very supportive of her learning dance.
Every Sunday, Zhan Xi still went to Zhou Lian’s home for sign language classes. After three months, she discovered she had fallen in love with this vivid and expressive language.
She imagined Little Fish’s life – never having heard any sound since birth, opening his mouth but not knowing how to voice any words, having to express all thoughts through his hands, yet this language was harder for ordinary people to understand than English.
When alone at home, Zhan Xi developed a habit – whatever she thought about, she would sign it out, and whenever she didn’t know certain words, she would immediately check her sign language book.
Sign language wasn’t like Chinese – Chinese had many words for the same meaning, plus various idioms, but in sign language there was only one way to express something. For example, “beautiful,” “good-looking,” “pretty” all used the same gesture.
Word order was another challenge Zhan Xi faced. A sentence was made up of words, and when signing she naturally signed each word following Chinese sentence order. But Zhou Lian told her that deaf people think visually, so natural sign language orders words according to visual and mental sequence of events.
For example, if Zhan Xi saw a ball roll out and then a little boy came running after it and kicked it, she would sign: [Little boy, kick, ball.]
Zhou Lian said if it were Little Fish signing, he would do it as: [Ball, rolling, little boy, kick.]
Zhou Lian comforted Zhan Xi: “Don’t worry, many sign language books now follow Chinese word order in their examples to teach hearing people how to sign. You can follow your own way – as long as the gestures are correct, Little Fish will understand. They’re used to our way of signing from childhood, it won’t confuse them. What you need to practice is understanding Little Fish’s sign language order – he might skip many words, and you’ll need to piece them together into complete sentences. Actually, just chat with him more – after dating for a year, I guarantee you’ll understand everything he signs.”
Zhan Xi increasingly understood why Luo Jingyu’s typing was often jumbled and why reading Chinese was so difficult for him. He was already trying very hard to adapt and learn hearing people’s typing order, but maybe he just wasn’t naturally gifted in this area, and there was no point forcing it.
Speaking was expression, writing was expression, and sign language was expression too. Her Little Fish had innate limitations, and Zhan Xi didn’t want to be too harsh on him.
She just needed to study sign language well – someday, she would be able to completely “hear” what Luo Jingyu was saying.
Time entered June, and the weather grew hotter day by day. Long sleeves were replaced by short sleeves and dresses, and Zhan Xi found her sandals and cleaned them.
Gift was born in winter and was now experiencing its first summer. It had grown a bit bigger but wasn’t yet fully grown, weighing just over 4 pounds – considered a middle schooler among cats.
While playing with Gift using a cat toy, Zhan Xi would both sign and speak: “Do you miss daddy? Daddy’s studying, mommy misses him too, he’ll be back soon, he misses you too, shall we take a photo to show him?”
After taking a selfie with Gift and sending it to Luo Jingyu, he quickly sent back a selfie of his own.
He had just showered but hadn’t dried his hair, wearing a simple grey short-sleeve T-shirt, smiling at the camera with the familiar room in the background.
[Egg Pudding]: Hurry and do your homework, don’t stay up too late! [Big Fish]: About to start, Huanhuan, I miss you so much. [Egg Pudding]: I miss you too, mwah~ [Big Fish]: Mwah
—
Regarding Zhan Xi’s upcoming resignation, Yuan Sichen, Qian Yun and others were understanding but reluctant to see her go, agreeing to have a farewell dinner before she left.
One day during lunch, Yuan Sichen asked Zhan Xi: “Hey, what’s going on with you and that deaf-mute guy?”
Zhan Xi’s chopsticks paused as she looked up to answer: “We’re dating.”
Yuan Sichen thought for a moment and said: “I don’t have any issues with your boyfriend, and I won’t tell others about it. But if you don’t want people to know, you should be more careful. If you plan to make it public, then never mind what I said.”
Zhan Xi asked in confusion: “What do you mean?”
Yuan Sichen looked around, seeing no colleagues nearby, and lowered her voice: “A few days ago, Sister Wen asked me if you were dating someone. It really scared me – I almost gave you away. After I realized, I told her I didn’t know.”
“…” Anything involving Wen Qin always gave Zhan Xi bad associations. She asked, “Why is she asking about my business?”
“How would I know?” Yuan Sichen laughed, “But I have to say, Sister Wen is good at reading people. She said your complexion has been really good these past few months, your skin is so tender you could pinch water from it, and you’ve become more cheerful and smiley – she said you look like you’ve got something going on.”
Zhan Xi touched her face and asked: “Is it that obvious?”
“Of course!” Yuan Sichen said, “It’s very obvious when girls are dating. I noticed too – you sometimes smile to yourself secretly. Did you know you do that?”
Zhan Xi’s lips twitched – she really hadn’t realized at all.
Yuan Sichen continued: “Also, Sister Wen asked me what’s going on between you and Lin Yan. I said I didn’t know that either. Lin Yan hasn’t brought milk tea to our office for half a year now, so Sister Wen asked if you two might be secretly dating? I said probably not, since you two don’t even contact each other normally.”
After hearing this, Zhan Xi fell silent. It was obvious whose idea it was for Wen Qin to ask about these things.
Zhan Xi never expected that two days later, at after-work time, she would see her mother at the company building entrance.
In the first-floor lobby, as waves of office workers poured out of the elevators, Ji Guilan and her aunt stood at the side looking around, both carrying large bags. When they saw Zhan Xi, Ji Guilan even had a ingratiating smile on her face.
That smile gave Zhan Xi goosebumps.
“Mom, Auntie, why are you here?” Zhan Xi walked up to ask.
Mother and daughter hadn’t seen each other for two months. Seeing each other suddenly now, Zhan Xi’s tone carried distance and wariness, completely lacking the joy a girl would normally show upon seeing her mother.
Ji Guilan said: “Your aunt came to Qiantang for a check-up, just a minor issue. I had nothing to do so I came with her. We’ll have dinner with Ajie tonight – I called him already, he’ll come.”
Zhan Xi asked: “Why didn’t you call me beforehand?”
Her aunt cut in: “I said we should call you, but your mom wouldn’t let me, saying she didn’t want to disturb your work.”
Ji Guilan smiled: “We came straight here after getting off the bus, didn’t wait long. This workplace… mom hasn’t been here before. Since you’re about to quit anyway, mom wanted to take a look, and also visit your home – your rental place is nearby, right?”
Zhan Xi took her mother’s bag from her shoulder: “Yes, it’s very close, about a fifteen-minute walk. Let’s go then.”
But Ji Guilan didn’t want to leave yet. Her eyes kept watching people coming out of the elevator as she asked Zhan Xi: “Huanhuan, you’ve worked here for a year – have any boys pursued you?”
“No,” Zhan Xi looked at her. “This is a private company without government positions, as you know.”
“Actually… mom isn’t that rigid.” Ji Guilan’s tone carried an odd fawning quality. “Some boys in private companies, if they have good education, family background, and personality, mom could accept that.”
Zhan Xi stared at her coldly, and Ji Guilan laughed awkwardly: “Huanhuan, mom knows I’ve been too strict with you before. Maybe you’re dating someone not in the system and are afraid mom won’t be happy. But really, mom isn’t that rigid. If you…”
“Are we still going to my place?” Zhan Xi interrupted her.
Ji Guilan’s smile disappeared as she silently faced her daughter, every wrinkle on her face showing suppressed emotion. Zhan Xi knew her mother was holding back, but she wasn’t afraid. Even if her mother had a meltdown in front of the company right now, she would think it normal.
Her aunt broke their standoff: “Of course we’re going! The three-hour bus ride was exhausting!”
Zhan Xi led them to Qingque Gardens. Entering apartment 802, her aunt said: “Wow, Huanhuan keeps the place so clean!”
But Ji Guilan’s attention was elsewhere. She noticed the artificial flowers in a glass vase on the dining table and went closer to look. She also saw the empty cat litter box and food bowl in the corner, which made her suspicious.
After checking the fridge, she wandered into the kitchen, then into Zhan Xi’s bedroom, opened the wardrobe for a look, and turned to see several books stacked on the bedside table. Ji Guilan picked one up – it was a sign language book.
Ji Guilan: “?”
All her actions fell under Zhan Xi’s watch. Those sign language books had always been on the bedside table. Zhan Xi had thought about it before entering but didn’t plan to “rescue” them or explain anything.
She just coldly observed, thinking about how she used to be so close with this old lady when she was young, telling her everything.
But now, how pathetic – her mother was like a detective, practically wanting to use a magnifying glass to examine every trace in her room, while pretending to just casually look around, praising her with “you really can cook now” or complaining “why do you have so many snacks? Too many snacks are bad for health.”
There were two whale plushies by Zhan Xi’s pillow, one big and one small. Ji Guilan was startled and couldn’t help saying: “Huanhuan, why did you buy these plush toys? And are you keeping pets? Cat or dog? You can’t have pets!”
“I don’t have pets,” Zhan Xi said calmly. “Besides, I’m not allergic anymore.”
Ji Guilan wanted to say more, but her aunt pulled her sleeve: “What are you doing? Didn’t you agree before coming that you wouldn’t interfere? Why are you interfering again?”
“But the doctor said…” Ji Guilan’s words were interrupted by Zhan Xi’s phone ringing – Zhan Jie’s car had arrived at the compound entrance.
That evening, the four of them ate at a restaurant in an extremely oppressive atmosphere.
Zhan Jie sat with a black face, not wanting to say a word. Zhan Xi only politely attended to her mother and aunt, casually ordering a few dishes.
Seeing her son’s depressed and dispirited appearance, Ji Guilan felt both angry and anxious. She asked him: “Ajie, how have you been eating dinner lately?”
Zhan Jie said in a deep voice: “Eat at work, overtime every day.”
“You’ll ruin your health!” Ji Guilan’s tone carried heartache. “You’ve gotten thinner – this can’t go on.”
Zhan Jie ignored her.
Ji Guilan asked again: “Ajie, will you celebrate Weiwei’s seventh birthday with him?”
Zhan Jie shook his head.
Ji Guilan took out a red envelope from her bag and handed it to Zhan Jie: “This is Weiwei’s birthday money. Give it to him when you see him and tell him grandma misses him very much.”
Zhan Jie took it with a stern face.
Ji Guilan looked at her son and after hesitating, still spoke up: “Ajie, divorce isn’t such a big deal. You’re a man – you won’t have trouble finding someone else. The other day your aunt said her friend has a daughter working in Qiantang, twenty-nine years old, still single…”
“BANG!” – a huge noise as Zhan Jie’s palm slammed on the dining table. He had already stood up, looking down at his mother through gritted teeth: “Will you ever stop? Huh?”
All the guests at nearby tables were looking at them. Her aunt was flustered, Ji Guilan was ashen-faced, only Zhan Xi remained calm, coldly watching her mother.
No one enjoyed that meal. Zhan Jie didn’t speak again afterward, barely ate anything, and ignored even his aunt’s attempts to smooth things over.
Ji Guilan kept a red face the whole time. Zhan Xi knew her mother had lost face in front of her sister and strangers, and must be incredibly angry inside. In the past she would have exploded by now, but too many things had happened recently, and she finally managed to hold back from exploding.
Her aunt had an early morning doctor’s appointment in the city district the next day, so the two older women had planned to stay at Zhan Jie’s place for the night.
Zhan Xi said goodbye to them outside the restaurant. Ji Guilan once again urged her to come home for the Dragon Boat Festival, but Zhan Xi just shook her head and said: “Mom, if you had called me before coming, I might have agreed.”
“Are you trying to anger me to death?” Standing before her daughter, Ji Guilan was holding back so hard her teeth might crack. “You’re my daughter – everything I do is for your own good. Are you treating me like an enemy now? When have I ever harmed you? How can blood relatives hold such grudges? Huh?”
Zhan Xi gave a small laugh: “Do other mothers call their daughter’s boss to secretly ask about their work? Do other mothers suddenly ambush their daughter’s workplace and home? You rummage through my room – I don’t even know what you’re looking for. If you want to know something, why can’t you just ask me directly?”
“Would you tell me if I asked?!” Ji Guilan raised her voice. “You never tell me anything! Not about renting an apartment, changing positions, traveling out of town, or what you’re doing day to day! I know you must be secretly dating someone! I had no one else to ask, so I could only ask Wen Qin! She told me there’s a young man at your workplace who’s been pursuing you for almost a year. I just asked about his background – what did I do wrong? I’m just concerned about you! Besides, did I object? I didn’t object at all! I quite like what I heard about that young man – he’s in technology, even has a master’s degree!”
Zhan Xi laughed from anger: “Do you know why I don’t want to tell you things when you ask? Because you wouldn’t agree to any of it! You wouldn’t agree to me renting an apartment, changing positions, or traveling! Let me tell you what I’m doing now – I’m learning to dance, do you agree? I’m learning sign language, do you agree? I’m looking for high-pressure jobs with lots of overtime, do you agree?”
Ji Guilan stared at her with wide eyes, like she was looking at a stranger.
Zhan Xi said calmly: “You wouldn’t agree to any of it. Anything you don’t like, can’t understand, or think is meaningless – you wouldn’t agree to. So why should I tell you?”
Zhan Jie called impatiently from the side: “Are you done talking? Let’s go if you’re done!”
Ji Guilan took a step, but before leaving, asked Zhan Xi: “Huanhuan, why are you learning sign language?”
Zhan Xi smiled, saying gently: “Mom, at your age the most important thing is taking care of your health, and taking care of grandma with dad. I’ll come home to see you during holidays and festivals, and give you red envelopes. I earn my own money – if I want to learn something, I’ll learn it. Why do there need to be so many reasons?”
—
Ji Guilan told her sister she had raised two unfilial children. They used to be such obedient good kids, but now one yells at her while the other speaks with sarcasm.
That night, her aunt secretly called Zhan Xi, trying to persuade her to improve the mother-daughter relationship.
Zhan Xi said: “We can talk again when my mom learns when she should and shouldn’t make phone calls.”
Ji Guilan and her aunt stayed one night in Qiantang, then returned home after the doctor’s appointment the next day.
Wen Qin never communicated with Zhan Xi about it, still greeting her with smiles at work as if nothing had happened.
Zhan Xi didn’t blame her, knowing Wen Qin was also troubled. After she resigned, Wen Qin’s family would probably cut ties with their family – after all, her elderly father was in his seventies and wasn’t close with Ji Guilan to begin with.
The Sunday morning after her mother left, Zhan Xi finished her sign language class at Zhou Lian’s home and was about to leave when she met three young guests.
Zhou Lian welcomed them in and told Zhan Xi: “They’re my students who just finished their college entrance exams last week. They made an appointment to discuss university applications.”
“Teacher Zhou, I’ll head out then – you’re busy.” Zhan Xi smiled at the three girls and left.
After the door closed, Mo Yang quickly signed to Zhou Lian: [Teacher Zhou, why was Sister Zhan at your house?]
The following week continued as usual. Zhan Xi knew Luo Jingyu was working on his final major assignment.
The assignment was to select some flower types learned during the term and design them into an arrangement, similar to flower arranging. It tested not only the students’ mastery of individual flower techniques and crafting skills but also their aesthetic sense and overall design of floral art. The completed work would be evaluated by the Japanese school for a qualification certificate.
Zhan Xi rarely contacted Luo Jingyu – they hadn’t seen each other for a whole month.
Luo Jingyu rushed through eating, sleeping, and showering, their longing for each other could only be kept in their hearts.
Zhan Xi had completed her work handover and sent out many job applications, receiving several interview notices. She took leave to attend interviews, with two companies going quite well, telling her to wait for news.
Tuesday and Friday evenings, Zhan Xi would go to dance class. Now she could barely keep up with Teacher Qiu’s rhythm, dancing a somewhat presentable complete routine.
Weiwei celebrated his seventh birthday. Qin Fei posted on Moments – at the pizza restaurant, the little one wore a birthday hat, surrounded by his grandparents and young friends as she took their photo.
Zhan Xi noticed her little nephew had lost both his front teeth, giving him an adorably ugly smile.
Ji Guilan called Zhan Xi once a week. Without topics like civil service exams and finding a partner, the two had little to talk about. Ji Guilan could only complain to Zhan Xi about Zhan Jie, saying he wouldn’t answer calls lately, and even when he did, his attitude was very poor.
Zhan Xi would ask her mother to put her father on the phone, preferring to chat with him about how grandma was doing and if work was tiring.
She could clearly feel her mother’s loss and confusion, just like herself in the past – being so obedient, yet why was mom still unsatisfied?
Now Ji Guilan seemed not to know what she had done wrong. She cared so deeply for her children, worrying endlessly about them – why were her son and daughter angry with her?
She cried on the phone saying Zhan Xi was heartless, talking about how difficult her pregnancy and birth had been, being an older mother, risking her life and so on…
Zhan Xi didn’t plan to give in, just silently listening. She had become numb to Ji Guilan’s skillful use of the family card.
The deteriorating relationship with her mother was troublesome, and the kitten Gift wasn’t behaving either – Gift had entered its first heat cycle and was making annoying noises at home.
Zhan Xi took it to the vet for consultation. The doctor said they had to wait until after the heat cycle to do the neutering. Zhan Xi calculated the timing, thinking to wait until Luo Jingyu returned. The kitten was attached to him – for such a big matter as neutering, it would be better to have daddy present to handle it.
Sunday morning, after finishing her sign language class at Zhou Lian’s home and leaving around 11, the outdoor sun blazed high in the sky with rolling heat waves. Zhan Xi squinted at the harsh sunlight and was about to take out her sunglasses from her bag when she suddenly had a strange feeling.
She quickly lifted her head and saw a tall man standing under a leafy big tree not far away.
Zhan Xi was dazed for a moment. She looked back at the building entrance – yes, this was definitely Zhou Lian’s place. Turning back to look that way again, the man wore a white T-shirt and jeans, hands in his pockets, standing casually with his head slightly tilted, smiling at her.
It was her most familiar smile.
“Little Fish!” Zhan Xi practically flew towards him, her ponytail swinging high, and threw herself into his embrace.
She hugged him tight and looked up at him, small beads of excited sweat already appearing on her nose tip.
Luo Jingyu also looked down at her, his expression… very complex.
Because they were outside Zhou Lian’s building.
Zhan Xi realized and signed: [You’re back? How are you here? Did little Mo tell you?]
Luo Jingyu nodded gently and signed back: [You never told me about this.]
Zhan Xi wanted to cover her face in embarrassment: [I haven’t learned well enough yet. I wanted to wait until I learned it well to tell you.]
Luo Jingyu watched her signs – not very smooth, quite slow, but every gesture so precise and accurate. Every sentence, he could understand perfectly.
Although before coming, he had already asked Ji Hongzhe, Luo Xiaomei and Zhou Lian and learned what had happened, seeing it with his own eyes still made his eyes sting with emotion.
He raised his hands, also signing very slowly: [You’ve already learned so well. Huanhuan, thank you. No hearing person has ever been willing to learn sign language for me. You’re the only one. I…]
His right index finger pointed at his chest, almost unable to continue.
Sign language wasn’t like Chinese – it didn’t have so many beautiful descriptive words. It was visual and direct, vivid and concise, but now it made Luo Jingyu frustrated that he wasn’t as cultured as Luo Xiaomei.
He found he could only say one thing: [I’m really happy, Huanhuan, I’m really happy, I’m really happy.]
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