Chapter Sixteen — Gradually Entering the Perfect State

Stepping out of the café, the blazing sun poured down, and the heaviness in her heart seemed to lift, replaced by a newfound clarity. The breeze that swept past was half warm, half cool.

Returning to the shop, Yishu discovered a large, corpulent figure sitting on the sofa. Her heart skipped a beat. The frantic phone call from Yan’s mother had thrown her into confusion earlier, causing her to rush out and forget to lock the door.

If the store’s finances had been stolen... Yishu dared not think further. She smoothed her hair and walked straight inside.

“Hello?”

The man on the sofa looked up.

“You’re finally back. I’ve been waiting for you for over half an hour.”

It was the same person who had previously bought the Auspicious Cloud curtain. Yishu relaxed. “I’m so sorry, I had to step out for a bit.”

“It’s fine,” he smiled. “I received the curtain from before. It works well, and the size is spot on. I’m here today to order the remaining curtains for the rest of the rooms.”

“I’m glad you’re satisfied.” Yishu’s nerves eased. “What style do you need for the other rooms?”

“For my parents’ suite, all Chinese-style curtains will do. For the other suite, which I live in, keep it simple—I don’t like anything too complicated.”

Yishu picked up the brochure from the coffee table and handed it to him, introducing the styles not displayed on the wall one by one.

He was decisive. After a brief recommendation, he placed his order without excessive deliberation.

“I’ll need the measurements, please.”

He rummaged through his briefcase and handed Yishu an A4 sheet covered in numbers.

The handwriting was somewhat messy, requiring careful confirmation. Yishu opened the drawer at the front desk, took a blank sheet from the box, and neatly transcribed the numbers. After confirming with the client, she calculated the pleats and allowances on another sheet.

Once she’d finished, he paid promptly.

At the door, he turned back and said, “Your curtains are excellent, so attentive to detail. The stitching is beautiful. My friend recommended your shop, and I was hesitant at first, but now I see he has good taste. I’m glad I listened to him.”

Recommended by a friend?

Who could it be?

Was it someone she knew?

Yishu pondered, but the faces in her mind were blank, impossible to match. Most of her previous clients were from outside Yun City, so it seemed unlikely they’d deliberately recommend someone. Besides, his delivery address was Yun City, and his accent suggested he was local.

Yishu smiled gently as she saw him off.

Could it have been Shixi?

“Shixi, was it you?”

“What do you mean, was it me?” Xu Shixi, chopsticks poised above his bowl, looked baffled by Yishu’s inexplicable question.

Yishu shook her head.

It was you who walked into my life after twenty years of solitude, you who joined my journey alone, you who added honey to the missing spice in my days.

Tonight was the last screening of the film “You and Me.” After tonight, it would vanish from the theater’s schedule.

Perhaps the more elusive something is, the more one desires it; the greater the regret, the deeper the urge to fill it.

Xu Shixi took two tickets from the self-service machine, bought two drinks at the counter, and called Yishu over.

After the tickets were checked, they headed toward Theater 10.

There were few people seated.

Even after ten minutes, as the lights dimmed in the screening room, only five or six pairs of couples were scattered in the corners.

Yishu leaned against the seatback, watching the screen intently.

Beside her, Xu Shixi sat upright, his gaze tinged with melancholy.

“Why are you leaving me!” the male lead in the film demanded of the heroine.

“Love during student days is just a transition in life. Like our studies, now it’s time to graduate. Do you want to repeat a year?”

The plot’s opening seemed rather cliché.

The narrative simmered slowly, like water brought to a boil. Perhaps because it was the final day of screening, or perhaps the story itself failed to captivate, there were few viewers, and neither box office nor reviews were stellar.

Yishu was puzzled as to why Shixi had chosen such a film. It wasn’t typically suited for couples newly committed to each other.

The rest of the story unfolded predictably.

When the theater lights came back on, Yishu instinctively squinted. Once her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she noticed red veins in Xu Shixi’s eyes.

Had he cried?

Impossible.

“You look tired—your eyes are red,” Yishu asked, concerned, her gaze reluctant to leave him.

Xu Shixi rubbed his eyes and forced a smile. “I am a bit tired. Let me take you home.”

Yishu replied without hesitation, “I can get home on my own.”

“That won’t do—it’s late.” Xu Shixi protested, “If you’re worried I’m too tired, I’m not anymore.”

Yishu found it amusing. “Who says you’re not tired just because you say so?”

Couples leaving the theater held hands or the girls clung to their partners’ arms. The two were so close together, they seemed like one.

She envied them.

Should she reach for his hand?

He took her hand in his.

They looked straight ahead, their tightly clasped hands conveying unspoken messages.

Gradually, they drew closer.

An invisible force seemed to pull them together.

Yishu felt her left wrist pulse wildly. His broad hand gripped hers firmly, gentle yet strong. It would never let her hand slip away, nor cause discomfort or pressure.

Shixi, will you never let go of my hand?

“I will never let go of your hand,” Shixi murmured.

After the crowds had dispersed, only the two of them remained in the cinema. At this moment, they were the whole world.

When the car reached the gate of Jinlan Community, Yishu let out a deep breath, getting ready to open the door and step out.

“Wait, you forgot your bag,” Xu Shixi called after her, leaning toward the back seat.

At the same time, Yishu turned abruptly.

Her lips, his lips—only a centimeter apart. In that fleeting pause, as she started to turn away, his lips brushed lightly against her left cheek.

All the warmth in her body surged to her cheeks, burning like fire.

Yishu thanked him and stepped out of the passenger seat, head down.

In the darkness, he wouldn’t see her embarrassment, would he?

The wind was still chilly at night, and Yishu instinctively shrank into herself. Yet her flushed face felt wonderfully pleasant. She floated down the street, feeling as if something new had been added to her body.

At the door, as she took out her keys to unlock it, someone opened it from inside.

“You’re finally back,” Yan Lu said, full of grievance.

“What are you doing at my place?” Yishu hung her bag on the wall hook and walked in.

“Nowhere else to go, so I’m staying with you,” Yan Lu slumped onto the sofa, “You can’t kick me out. At most, I’ll clean in exchange for rent.”

“You’ll clean?” Yishu wondered if she’d misheard. “Better I do it myself.”

Yishu sat down beside Yan Lu. “I don’t mind you staying, but I...” She hesitated over whether to say it.

“I hope you’ll talk things over with your mother.”

“Did she say something to you?” Yan Lu jumped up from the sofa. “I knew she wouldn’t let me off so easily.”

Yishu sighed, stood up, and gently soothed her. “Don’t get upset. She didn’t say anything. It’s just me—I don’t want you two to keep fighting. You know, I...”

Yishu’s voice grew softer, lower. Painful memories she didn’t want to recall, much less share.

So many words, and never knowing where to begin. Perhaps language is too pale, too powerless; perhaps silence is golden and explanations are useless. Or maybe, somewhere along the way, even the ability to express had been stolen from her.

She envied Yan Lu—she had a father and a mother.

It was late; Yishu said no more and told Yan Lu to get to bed. Once she was sure Yan Lu had gone to sleep, Yishu walked out onto the balcony, took out her phone, and sent him a text.

—Are you home?

The reply came quickly.

—Just arrived.

—Good night.

—Good night, sweet dreams.

From now on, every day with you must be a beautiful dream for me. Yishu looked up at the sparse stars and the few streetlights piercing the night. The warmth faded from her cheeks, only to rise again.

Just days ago, she had only her brother and Yan Lu; now she had him, too.

Yishu smiled silently. Life had finally turned from shadow to sunlight.

Yet, between them, there seemed so little common language. Most of their time together was spent in silence. Yishu refused to dwell on this melancholy, closed the sliding door, and walked back inside.