Peaches and Plums Don’t Speak – Chapter 85
by Little PandaOld Acquaintance
After Anzhi left for the training camp, Yan Xi spent more time than usual on the third floor.
Besides her photography room, the third-floor living area also held Anzhi’s little laboratory, which Yan Xi saw every day.
Anzhi had wanted some essential experiment equipment since her first year of high school, but she’d been too embarrassed to ask. Yan Xi had noticed that since starting high school, Anzhi had become reluctant to spend her money—she almost never asked for anything.
Yan Xi had discovered this herself.
Anzhi would do small experiments in the kitchen, slowly adding baking soda into a beer glass filled with vinegar, watching large amounts of foam surge up; she would dot household iodine onto flour, turning it blue-purple; she would let the kitchen pot rust, then soak it in lemon water or vinegar and wipe it clean.
She approached these small experiments with the same enthusiasm as making little cakes. In fact, Yan Xi suspected that her childhood interest in baking might have also sparked her interest in conducting experiments.
Yan Xi hadn’t known about this at first, because Anzhi always did it secretly. Every time she came home, the kitchen would already be clean.
Anzhi had collected eye drop bottles, plastic bottles, even bamboo charcoal and cigarette ash—Grandma Liu had been so worried she thought Anzhi was picking up scraps, and had to tell Yan Xi about it.
Yan Xi understood immediately. After hesitating for a long time, she decided to build a small laboratory for her at home.
She bought Anzhi a Muji1 desk, and even installed a sink on the balcony.
This morning, rare sunlight thin as honey filtered through, falling on the equipment arranged on the desk.
Test tubes, glass tubing, rubber stoppers, beakers, glass rods, graduated cylinders, iron stands, various test papers, brown wide-mouth bottles, small vials, and so on.
“No doing anything too dangerous.” That had been Yan Xi’s only requirement at the time.
Anzhi nodded excitedly, her face brightening with color. She was careful, too—but two months later, she still burned the curtains, scaring Yan Xi so badly that she forbid her from doing experiments at home for a long time.
“Go to school, or find your Second Uncle. Don’t do experiments alone.” Yan Xi was still shaken. She didn’t understand these things herself, had no way to protect her or teach her—she could only pull out the “guardian” authority to constrain her. Yan Xi also took away what she considered the most dangerous tool—the alcohol burner.
“But Second Uncle studies physics,” Anzhi had protested at the time.
“He definitely knows people who understand chemistry. Anyway, you can’t be alone.” Yan Xi put on a stern face, exerting her authority.
Yan Xi recalled the way Anzhi had puffed out her cheeks—reluctant but having no choice but to obey.
Anzhi had entered the training squad, held at the Foreign Language University in the East District, for a month and a half. She’d only been gone three days, and Yan Xi already felt the house was empty. This morning she’d gone up to the third floor and washed all the lab equipment she hadn’t used in a long time.
The other room belonged to her photography hobby.
Photography, for Yan Xi, was a pursuit both distant and near. She had dreamed of becoming a photographer. But after none of her anonymously submitted works were accepted several years ago, she stopped trying.
Photography, she thought, was a small obsession in her heart. Through photographs, she came to know her parents who had died young, felt their love, understood who they were as people. Growing up, she had taken many photos of her family—besides what was in the albums at the old residence with Grandfather Yan and Grandmother Yan, she had her own private collection. Grandfather, Grandmother, her brothers and their wives, the nephews—all group photos. And many albums belonging solely to Anzhi.
Solo shots of her, ones from their outings with Yang Mengmeng, and ones of just the two of them.
Many existed only on her phone, but the texture from a camera was different.
Lately she had been organizing photos, adjusting her camera. She had studied photography techniques, understood cameras, and had read magazines for years. But she believed that feeling and insight required the right moment, required growth, required talent, and required accumulation—she wasn’t in a rush.
Other things in life couldn’t be forced, but interests could be cultivated.
The first week after Anzhi left for training camp, Yan Xi organized the photography room, changed the light bulbs that needed changing at home, cleaned the furniture, and even repotted several flowers.
The next week, she organized two walls of bookshelves.
By the end of the third week, there was absolutely nothing left to do at home, so she grabbed her camera and went out.
Yan Xi felt she could completely predict her life after retirement. She planned to learn a few more hobbies, even considered taking up calligraphy again, something she hadn’t been able to persist with in childhood.
She waited for Anzhi to call her every night—this was Anzhi’s first time staying in a communal dormitory.
“How many people per room? Four?”
“Mn, that’s right. They’re all so hardworking, nobody’s on their phones. I snuck out to call you.”
“Mn, make sure to cover yourself well at night, don’t catch a cold.”
“There are so many people, I’m not used to sleeping with so many others, and we have to queue for showers. Last night someone was snoring, I couldn’t sleep at all.”
Anzhi’s voice was soft, somewhere between complaining and acting spoiled.
Yan Xi listened, wanting to laugh but also feeling her heart ache.
“I want to eat cheese chicken chops, I want eel rice, I want fried chicken wings!” She was complaining that the cafeteria food wasn’t good.
“Alright, when you finish your competition I’ll take you to eat.”
“Will you… come pick me up?”
“Yes, I’ll come pick you up.”
Anzhi laughed on the other end after getting her assurance. Yan Xi offered a few more words of encouragement.
Every night they talked for a few minutes, and before bed they’d exchange text messages.
Another weekend, Yan Xi attended a university classmate’s wedding. The winter wedding was at a hotel by the river, booked grandly for a day and a night. Yan Xi wasn’t particularly close with this classmate, but social circles inevitably meant running into each other sometimes.
As soon as Yan Xi walked in, she attracted most of the room’s attention.
In recent years, she had made a name for herself at Beishi TV, a mainstream station—with outstanding looks, a clean and distinguished family background, a veritable single aristocrat. Walking in, she was immediately the focus. Today many women were wearing dresses, but she wore a suit instead—long legs, narrow waist, walking elegantly as if she were hosting a program, long hair lazily curled over her shoulders, adding a touch of allure.
Quite a few people came over to chat and make conversation. Yan Xi was here to socialize today; she wore her familiar, distant smile, speaking softly with others.
She hadn’t expected to get caught up, to the point where she missed Yan Yinan’s call, and a voicemail.
That rare free weekend, Liu Yiyi was sprawled on the couch, her long legs propped on Yan Yixi’s knees, watching Go Fighting2.
She pointed at Huang Bo on the screen. “He’s probably the only person in the world whose looks I’d overlook because I still want to sleep with him…”
Yan Yixi, who was reading, glanced at her.
Liu Yiyi gave a dry laugh, waving her hand. “No, no, just kidding. Of course my husband is the best!”
Then Yan Yinan’s call came through. Twenty minutes later, he was at their door, practically pounding it down, sitting on the couch all awkward and stammering, finally blurting out under interrogation: “I slept with Doctor Yu!”
Then, all shy and coy: “Do you think she’ll take responsibility for me?”
Liu Yiyi was choked speechless for a long moment, giving Yan Yixi a look: “Are you sure this is your brother and not your sister?”
Yan Yixi sighed low, saying, “I’ll leave this to you. I’m making dinner.”
On the other end, Yan Xi had just managed to extricate herself and called back to ask about Yan Yinan.
The call connected, and Yan Yinan started explaining: “Last night after work we went for drinks at a bar, then went back to my apartment, and after that, well, it’s indescribable.”
Yan Xi hadn’t said anything yet on her end.
Liu Yiyi scoffed: “Isn’t it just a one-night stand? What’s the big deal?”
From the open kitchen, Yan Yixi—who had just tied on an apron—drifted another cool glance over. Liu Yiyi immediately gave him a sweet smile, waving: “Haha, haha, hubby, just kidding.”
She turned back to glare at Yan Yinan: “And? Try acting like a man, will you?”
“Then at dawn she just left, didn’t say anything. I called her, she has surgery today, didn’t pick up.” Yan Yinan was practically wringing his shirt.
“She didn’t say anything at all?” Yan Xi asked.
“Not a single word. Completely unlike any girl I’ve known before. I’m out of ideas, that’s why I came to ask you guys!”
“So are we boyfriend and girlfriend now? Right?” Yan Yinan’s face was twisted with conflict, but also carried a hidden excitement—completely like a girl hopelessly and irretrievably in love.
Liu Yiyi nearly spit blood.
Yan Xi walked outside the hotel ballroom, facing the sea breeze, listening to Liu Yiyi scold Yan Yinan on the phone, tucking her hair back.
“What the hell is wrong with you, are you an idiot? She hasn’t even made a move and you’re already falling apart. Calm down—you’re three years older than her! If you’re going to take it to heart4, don’t just go for the kidney5 so early!”
“I’m a proper young man with good background6! I have normal needs too!”
“What else do you have besides that face that anyone would want?”
“She did say I was beautiful! If she likes it, that’s what matters! Hey, hey, hey, don’t be so sexist—why can’t a man conquer a woman with his looks?”
“…..”
Yan Xi narrowed her eyes, covering her smile.
Then someone called her name: “Yan Xi.”
Yan Xi turned at the sound, her hair brushing her cheek with the motion. Seeing who it was, she paused—her pupils widening slightly, lashes blinking, as if she hadn’t expected this person’s appearance at all.
The wind around her suddenly seemed louder.
That voice called her name again, this time carrying a sense of distant familiarity: “Yan Xi.”
He wore a light gray suit, the shirt underneath open at the collar, no tie—proper but with an air of unwillingness to be constrained.
A face with sharp angles, grown even more handsome and steady with time. Seeing her, his expression turned surprised. “Long time no see.”
The author has something to say:
A new character appears~ What kind of “old acquaintance” is he?
Footnotes
- A Japanese lifestyle brand known for its minimalist aesthetic and functional design.
- A popular Chinese reality variety show featuring celebrities completing various challenges and missions.
- A derogatory slang term for an effeminate or unmanly man. Literally 'cannon shell' combined with 'niang' (mother/woman), implying someone who acts in a feminine manner.
- Lit. 'walk heart.' A slang term meaning to develop genuine feelings or emotional attachment, as opposed to a purely physical relationship.
- Lit. 'walk kidney.' A slang term meaning to engage in a relationship for physical pleasure only, without emotional attachment. The kidney (肾) is traditionally associated with sexual vitality in Chinese culture.
- Lit. 'red roots and sprouts.' A phrase meaning someone with a proper background and good moral standing.
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