STT – Chapter 33
by Little PandaZizheng, Can’t We Just Stay Like This?1
On the sixth day of the New Year, for some reason, Lu Zizheng woke before dawn. She got up and opened the window for fresh air, only to find the sky outside heavy and sullen, cold wind howling, snowflakes swirling — it was snowing again.
At breakfast, Lu Zizheng sat lost in thought, wondering whether it was snowing in Linzhou, whether Jiang Huaixi had listened to her and dressed warmly before setting out.
Unable to stop worrying, she set down her cup, went back to her room for her phone, and texted Jiang Huaixi: “It’s snowing in Juzhou. Dress thick. If you catch a cold, I’m not paying your medical bills.”
A while later, Jiang Huaixi replied: “If it weren’t for that last sentence, I might have charitably assumed you cared about me. I suppose I shouldn’t put it past you to harbor the worst intentions. Hmph.”
Lu Zizheng stared at that final “Hmph” and, for some inexplicable reason, smiled.
After breakfast, she kept thinking it over, still uneasy, and hurried back to her room to rummage through boxes for her own thick clothes — just in case Jiang Huaixi needed them.
A little past ten, Lu Zizheng was sitting in the living room with an armful of clothes, watching TV, when the doorbell rang.
She bounced up from the sofa, but Mother Lu was faster — she was at the door in a flash, opening it before Lu Zizheng could take a single step.
Lu Zizheng stood in the living room and heard Jiang Huaixi’s voice from the entryway, cool and clear, yet exceptionally pleasant: “Auntie, wishing you a belated happy New Year…”
Mother Lu laughed and scolded her affectionately: “You’re already coming — why bring gifts? We’ll be heading back soon, and we’ll just have to haul them all the way back again.”
Lu Zizheng checked her watch and bit her lip, warmth blooming in her chest. She didn’t believe for a second Jiang Huaixi’s story about having business in Juzhou on the fifth and dropping by to pick them up. Linzhou to Juzhou was four hours by the new highway, and it was barely past ten — Jiang Huaixi must have set out before dawn.
A moment later, Jiang Huaixi walked into the living room.
She was wearing, unusually, a thick black down jacket and a long scarf — an outfit that should have looked bulky, but on her slender frame, it only made her seem taller and more striking.
Lu Zizheng nodded inwardly with satisfaction. At least she’d listened.
Her gaze traveled upward to Jiang Huaixi’s familiar, delicate face. She should have been thrilled, her heart surging — but the instant she saw clearly, Lu Zizheng frowned instead, her eyes locking onto Jiang Huaixi’s face.
Jiang Huaixi unwound her scarf, noticed Lu Zizheng staring silently and intently, and curled her lips into a smile: “Has it been so long since you last saw me that you’ve suddenly started finding my looks irresistible?”
Lu Zizheng’s frown deepened. She ignored the teasing and asked: “Why is your face so pale?”
Jiang Huaixi paused, rubbed her hands together, and breathed into them: “It’s freezing outside. Go stand out there for a few minutes and see if your face doesn’t end up as white as mine.” Then, as if remembering something, she added: “Hmm, probably not — your complexion is darker than mine.”
Lu Zizheng turned without a word and went back to her room.
Jiang Huaixi’s smile faltered, bewildered. Today’s Lu Zizheng seemed a little… off.
Before she could puzzle it out, Lu Zizheng returned, carrying a hand warmer. She set it on the sofa, plugged it in, then walked over to the still-confused Jiang Huaixi, reached out, took her clasped hands, and gently began to rub them.
Jiang Huaixi stared, stunned for a long moment, feeling the soft warmth from Lu Zizheng’s hands. The smile on her lips grew more and more pronounced. “Zizheng, how is it that after one New Year, you’ve suddenly changed your whole nature and become so attentive? Could it be that Juzhou’s climate is better — making a girl grow as gentle as water?”
Lu Zizheng’s hands stilled. She looked up and shot Jiang Huaixi a fierce glare.
Jiang Huaixi caught the glare and only laughed more freely. “I knew it. Less than five minutes and you’ve shown your true colors. Zizheng, you need more practice.”
The hand warmer bubbled and clicked, signaling it was ready. Lu Zizheng withdrew her hands, fetched the warmer, and stuffed it into Jiang Huaixi’s arms. “I just didn’t want your hands freezing — otherwise no one can drive later.”
Jiang Huaixi sat on the sofa, hands tucked inside the warmer, hugging it to her chest. She gave a soft scoff, then suddenly looked up at Lu Zizheng and said earnestly: “Zizheng, Happy New Year.”
Lu Zizheng looked at Jiang Huaixi’s bright, shining eyes, relaxed her brow into a smile, and replied warmly: “Mm, Happy New Year.”
Jiang Huaixi blinked. “See — I came all this way to wish you a happy New Year. Shouldn’t you show some appreciation?”
Lu Zizheng raised an eyebrow, a smile playing at her lips. “Mm, you should.” She slipped her right hand into her pocket as if holding something, then instructed: “Close your eyes and hold out your hand.”
Jiang Huaixi looked at her, half-doubting: “I don’t believe you…”
Lu Zizheng frowned: “If you don’t want it, forget it.”
Jiang Huaixi fixed her large, beautiful eyes on Lu Zizheng for a long moment, saw that her expression was serious — no joke — and hesitantly pulled one hand from the warmer, extending it as she slowly closed her eyes. Her long, thick lashes fluttered with each blink, endearing and quick.
But the instant her eyes were shut and her hand extended, Lu Zizheng struck with lightning speed — a crisp, merciless smack square on Jiang Huaixi’s outstretched left palm.
Jiang Huaixi jumped, eyes flying open. Her face darkened at once, and she glared at Lu Zizheng in displeasure.
Mother Lu emerged from her bedroom just in time to witness this scene. She walked over and chided: “Zhengzheng, you’re bullying Huaixi again.”
Jiang Huaixi seized the opportunity and called out, all wronged: “Auntie…”
Mother Lu patted Jiang Huaixi’s head with a smile: “Zhengzheng is a cheapskate. She won’t give you one? Auntie will.” She took Jiang Huaixi’s hand, pulled a big red envelope from her pocket, and pressed it into her palm.
Jiang Huaixi’s expression stiffened. She stood up at once, declining: “Auntie, Zizheng and I were just playing around. I can’t accept this.” She tried to press the envelope back into Mother Lu’s hands.
Mother Lu’s face turned serious: “In my heart, you’re just the same as Zizheng — my own daughter. What’s wrong with a mother giving her own daughter New Year’s money? Unless you think we’re not close enough?”
Jiang Huaixi, silver-tongued as ever, was left entirely speechless, managing only a feeble: “Auntie, of course that’s not the case…”
Mother Lu delivered the final word: “Then no more talk about it. Accept it. I’ll go to the kitchen and get lunch ready for you two.” She turned and headed for the kitchen.
The moment Mother Lu turned her back, her stern facade crumbled. Her eyes crinkled with loving warmth. She was already scheming: once they got back to Linzhou, she should visit a jewelry shop — buy some pieces for Zizheng’s dowry, and a gift for Huaixi as her future mother-in-law.
Jiang Huaixi held the red envelope like a hot potato, fidgeting. Lu Zizheng took it from her, slipped it into the pocket of her down jacket, and consoled her: “Mom gave it to you, so just accept it. Don’t be polite. If you don’t take it, Mom will feel uneasy.”
Jiang Huaixi sighed and murmured a quiet: “Mm.” She reached up to rub her temples, looking tired.
Lu Zizheng watched her pale face, thinking of how she’d been driving since before dawn, and felt a pang of heartache. She bit her lip, hesitated, then suggested: “If you’re tired, go lie down in my room and rest for a while.”
Jiang Huaixi looked up at her in surprise, eyes wide with astonishment. She’d been here once, freshman year — Lu Zizheng’s room had been a fortress, strictly guarded, an absolute forbidden zone. Jiang Huaixi gave a soft laugh and teased: “I don’t dare go in. Didn’t you used to say the floor was covered in land mines, and that if I set foot inside I’d be blown to smithereens?”
Lu Zizheng caught the mischievous glint in her eyes, felt a twinge of embarrassment at that old threat, and deliberately hardened her expression: “That was then, this is now. If you don’t want to rest, forget it.”
Jiang Huaixi wasn’t about to let such a perfect opportunity slip by. She rose unhurriedly and said with composure: “Since you’ve invited me so graciously, how could I be so tactless as to refuse? I’d be delighted to accept.”
Lu Zizheng led Jiang Huaixi, step by step, toward the bedroom. Jiang Huaixi followed behind, unable to see the smile on Lu Zizheng’s face deepening with every step. Lu Zizheng knew what opening her bedroom meant. Jiang Huaixi had already entered her heart — what room could she possibly keep barred to her?
Once inside, Jiang Huaixi discreetly surveyed the room. Lu Zizheng’s bedroom was simply furnished: a desk connected to a bookshelf, a chair, and little else.
Jiang Huaixi’s attention was drawn to a family photo on the nightstand. The Lu Zizheng in the picture wore a ponytail, leaning against her father’s shoulder, smiling with a radiant warmth Jiang Huaixi had never seen before. She stared, unable to tear her eyes away. Turning her head, she asked softly: “Zizheng, do you have a photo album?”
Lu Zizheng looked at her, puzzled: “Yes, why?” She knelt beside the desk.
Jiang Huaixi pressed her lips together in a smile, with a hint of malice: “I’m suddenly curious whether you were this embarrassing to look at even as a child.”
Lu Zizheng opened the cabinet beneath the desk, pulled out a thick album, and dropped it on the bed in front of her: “Then you’d better not look. I’m worried it’ll hurt your eyes, and we don’t have eye drops in the house.”
Jiang Huaixi snorted, crouched down, and began flipping through it on her own. When she reached the very first photo — a baby Lu Zizheng at one month, bare-skinned — she laughed until her eyes crinkled: “Tsk tsk, nice figure…”
Lu Zizheng panicked and lunged to grab the album, but Jiang Huaixi deftly sidestepped, blocking the attack.
Right then, Mother Lu called out: “Zhengzheng, come bring some fruit in for Huaixi…”
Lu Zizheng bit her lip, stamped her foot, and decided — out of sight, out of mind. She turned and left the room to fetch fruit from the kitchen.
She was halfway down the hall when her phone rang in the living room. She changed course and went to answer it.
The caller ID showed an unfamiliar Linzhou number. Puzzled, she answered, assuming it was another insurance sales call. But the voice that came through was clean, slightly familiar, and male.
“Zizheng-jie, it’s Huaichuan.”
Lu Zizheng froze, clearly caught off guard.
Jiang Huaichuan asked anxiously: “Zizheng-jie, is my sister with you?”
Lu Zizheng glanced toward the bedroom and answered: “Yes, she’s with me.”
On the other end, Jiang Huaichuan sounded as if a weight had lifted: “I thought so. Mom and I have been calling her all morning — her phone’s been off the whole time. That’s why I took the liberty of calling you.” He paused, then continued: “Zizheng-jie, my sister had a severe cold and high fever a few days ago. She only started improving in the last couple of days, but she wouldn’t listen to anyone and checked herself out of the hospital to go back to her own place. Mom went to check on her this morning, and Zhang Ma said she’d driven out before dawn. Mom was worried sick — knowing she’s with you, we can all stop worrying.” He paused again, then lowered his voice, earnest: “Zizheng-jie, please take good care of my sister.”
Lu Zizheng was taken aback — so her pale face was from being sick. She frowned and answered seriously: “I will.” Then, puzzled, she added: “But Huaixi’s phone doesn’t seem to be off. I texted her this morning.”
Jiang Huaichuan fell silent for a long moment before explaining: “My sister’s phone is dual-SIM. One of the numbers — only you know it. That number is, probably, always on. Twenty-four hours a day.”
Lu Zizheng’s heart, at Jiang Huaichuan’s words, was like the surface of a still lake suddenly struck by a skipping stone — ripples spreading in wave after wave, unable to settle for a long, long time…
She brought the fruit back to the bedroom. Through the door, left slightly ajar, she saw Jiang Huaixi lying on her stomach at the edge of the bed, holding her phone, photographing each photo in the album one by one — her expression as serious and focused as if she were reviewing critical reports.
Lu Zizheng’s heart grew ever more tender.
She knocked on the door to announce herself. Sure enough, Jiang Huaixi quickly stashed her phone in her pocket and turned to tease with studied casualness: “I just looked through all your photos and made a major discovery. Your parents are both very good-looking. You seem to have had a bit of a genetic mutation.”
Lu Zizheng set down the fruit plate, listening carefully — and caught a faint nasal undertone in Jiang Huaixi’s voice. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of self-reproach for not noticing sooner. She sighed, speared a piece of apple, held it to Jiang Huaixi’s mouth, and said with feigned irritation: “I wonder if food can shut that mouth of yours.”
Jiang Huaixi raised an eyebrow, bit the apple, and said nothing.
After a few pieces of fruit, Lu Zizheng suddenly pushed Jiang Huaixi to sit on the bed and reached for her clothes.
Jiang Huaixi, in a rare show of alarm, reflexively crossed her arms over her chest — but in the space of a breath, she composed herself, raised an eyebrow, and laughed lightly: “Taking liberties with a respectable woman in broad daylight — is that really appropriate?”
Lu Zizheng’s eyebrow twitched hard. Her voice went cold: “Who’s the respectable woman? Aren’t you tired? Lie down and rest. I’ll wake you when it’s time to eat.”
Jiang Huaixi had meant to refuse, but the moment her head touched the pillow, she felt an overwhelming urge to close her eyes. The truth was — she was so tired she could barely hold on. So she followed Lu Zizheng’s suggestion, murmured “Mm,” and lay down.
Perhaps she truly was exhausted, or perhaps the pillow, saturated with Lu Zizheng’s scent, made her feel so relaxed and familiar that she couldn’t help it — in mere moments, she was fast asleep.
Lu Zizheng tucked in the covers and gazed at Jiang Huaixi’s calm, peaceful sleeping face, her eyes full of tenderness.
After an unknown amount of time, Jiang Huaixi vaguely heard someone calling her name. She opened heavy eyes and, in her hazy state, seemed to see Lu Zizheng leaning down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. She curved her lips slightly, thought it was a dream, didn’t want to wake — and drifted back into unconsciousness…
When she woke again, she saw Lu Zizheng sitting at the desk, watching her quietly.
Lu Zizheng noticed she was awake, stood, came to the bedside, and teased: “I thought you were going to sleep through to dinnertime.”
Jiang Huaixi got up reluctantly and asked: “What time is it?”
Lu Zizheng answered: “Past two. Mom kept your lunch warm. Once you’ve eaten, we should probably get ready to go.”
Jiang Huaixi put on her jacket and headed for the door. Lu Zizheng suddenly stopped her: “Weren’t you just asking for a New Year’s gift?”
Jiang Huaixi paused and looked at her in confusion.
Lu Zizheng reached into her pocket, pulled out a big red envelope, and held it out.
Jiang Huaixi raised an eyebrow, a smile forming: “What’s inside? Seems pretty thick. They’re not all one-jiao2 coins, are they?”
Lu Zizheng smiled: “Open it and find out.”
Curious, Jiang Huaixi opened the envelope with a grin. Inside was real money — red bills, one after another.
Her lips still held a smile. There were even odd coins mixed in. She counted — and then the smile froze on her lips. Five hundred and twenty. 5203?
She looked up, questioning, at Lu Zizheng — and saw her watching with a tenderness and earnestness she had never seen before, as she began to speak: “Huaixi, I like—”
Before she could finish, panic surged in Jiang Huaixi’s heart, and she broke in hastily: “I think I’m a little hungry. I’ll go eat first.” She fled.
Lu Zizheng stood frozen, the smile on her lips fading away, bit by bit…
It wasn’t until Mother Lu called out that they were ready to leave that Lu Zizheng finally came out of the room.
On the drive back to Linzhou, Lu Zizheng and Mother Lu sat together in the back seat. The atmosphere was inexplicably heavy.
Mother Lu sensed something was wrong and wanted to say something to break the suffocating silence, but looking at Lu Zizheng’s cold expression and Jiang Huaixi’s unreadable face, she opened her mouth — and ultimately chose to say nothing.
And so, for the entire four-plus-hour drive, not one of the three spoke a single word.
They finally reached Linzhou. Linzhou, too, was covered in snow.
At the apartment complex, Mother Lu couldn’t get out fast enough, grabbing some of the luggage and hurrying upstairs, leaving the space to Lu Zizheng and Jiang Huaixi.
Jiang Huaixi silently helped carry some of the luggage up. At the doorstep, after more than five hours of silence, she finally spoke for the first time: “I won’t go in.” She turned to leave.
Lu Zizheng caught her by surprise, grabbing her arm. She looked at Jiang Huaixi with burning eyes, bit her lip, and said in a hoarse voice: “Huaixi, you know what I was going to say, don’t you? Why did you deliberately stop me from finishing?”
Jiang Huaixi averted her gaze, looking down, and answered softly: “I don’t know what you wanted to say. Zizheng, can’t we just stay like this?”
Lu Zizheng’s grip on her hand gradually lost its strength, slipping downward… At last, she let go of Jiang Huaixi, turned, and walked inside, never looking back once.
Mother Lu stood at the entryway, watching Lu Zizheng with concern. Lu Zizheng seemed perfectly calm, methodically removing her shoes, then her socks — one, two…
Suddenly, as if some switch had been tripped, she stood bolt upright and, barefoot, bolted out the door…
She took the other elevator — empty — straight down to the first floor, then ran out of the building with reckless abandon, using every last ounce of strength to call out to Jiang Huaixi, who wasn’t far ahead: “Jiang Huaixi!”
Jiang Huaixi’s footsteps stopped. After a moment’s stillness, she turned, her expression complicated.
Lu Zizheng, just like that, barefoot in the snow, walked step by step to Jiang Huaixi. Her eyes red, she asked: “Jiang Huaixi, I like you. Is there really no chance at all for us to go even one step further?”
Jiang Huaixi crouched down, took off her own shoes, and said nothing.
Lu Zizheng looked down at the figure before her — once so familiar, now so utterly strange — and, mustering the last of her courage, asked: “Then why are you so good to me?”
Jiang Huaixi, cradling Lu Zizheng’s foot, tried to slip her own shoe onto Lu’s bare foot. She was silent for a moment, then asked in a tone flat as still water: “Aren’t we good friends?”
Lu Zizheng seemed to finally give up. Her face went instantly pale and desolate. She repeated, as if it were absurdly funny: “Good friends, of course. Are you this good to every good friend…?” Her foot broke free of Jiang Huaixi’s hand. She turned and walked back, saying softly: “I’m sorry. I misunderstood. From now on, don’t be so good to me. I can’t bear it.”
Jiang Huaixi crouched where she was, watching Lu Zizheng’s bare, cold-reddened feet press step by step through the snow, retreating with difficulty. Her expression was anguished — and her eyes, too, gradually reddened…
Footnotes
- Original Chinese: 子筝，就一直这样不好吗？ (Zizheng, jiù yīzhí zhèyàng bù hǎo ma?). The rhetorical pattern 'bù hǎo ma' (不好吗, 'isn't that not good?') uses a double-negative to ask 'isn't that fine?' — a gentle, indirect way of pleading for the status quo.
- One jiao (角) is a Chinese currency subunit worth one-tenth of a yuan — the smallest commonly used denomination, making it a humorous choice for stuffing a thick envelope.
- In Chinese, 520 (wu er ling) is a near-homophone for 'I love you' (wo ai ni), making '520' a popular coded love confession in Chinese digital and popular culture.
NAURRRRRRRRRR
Fl must be sick and don’t want to burden mc! I mean she’s always sick and her family worries nonstop! This must be a serious illness!
Fl must be sick and don’t want to burden mc! I mean she’s always sick and her family worries nonstop! This must be a serious illness!
Noooooo
Why?!
Noooooo
Why?!