I thought writing the title this way would make it easier.
Inside the restaurant, Lu Yi Yi was chatting happily with the pretty boy. Two men had fought over her, and naturally, the girl sided with the handsome one.
The pretty boy was charming and spoke well, conversation flowing easily and making the girls laugh. When Zhang Pa returned, he feigned curiosity, asking, “Do you know her?” In truth, he thought: This makes no sense! Why isn’t she after someone handsome like me? You bastard, stealing my thunder!
Zhang Pa replied, “She wouldn’t like you.”
“I don’t believe it!” The pretty boy protested indignantly. “That’s slander and you’re looking down on me.”
The girl with the side-swept bangs laughed and said, “I think Zhang Pa is right. She’s the most beautiful woman in our conservatory, rarely ever speaks to men.” She sighed, “You have to admit, no matter how pretty other girls are, they pale in comparison beside her.”
The pretty boy asked, “Do you actually rank the beauties here? Where do you all fall on the list?”
“We don’t bother with such silly things,” Lu Yi Yi replied. “But Teacher Liu really is uniquely beautiful. Every day, sports cars wait outside for her, and someone brings her flowers, but it never works. Teacher Liu lives in the single staff dormitory in the faculty compound behind us, just around the corner.”
“She lives in the dormitory?” the pretty boy asked.
“Forget it,” Lu Yi Yi said. “You can reach her place directly from campus. Teacher Liu rarely leaves school; the furthest she goes is here for a meal.”
The girl with the side-swept bangs added, “Teacher Liu is so talented. Not only can she dance, she plays piano too. I heard from others that when she graduated, she didn’t have to come back—many top dance schools and troupes wanted her, but she didn’t go. She simply slung a little bag over her shoulder and returned home, so chic, so cool.”
The chubby boy said, “That’s odd. Aren’t women usually jealous of other beautiful women? Why do you all praise her?”
The girl with the ponytail sighed, “I can be jealous of Yi Yi and of Da Huang—but how could I possibly envy a fairy?”
Da Huang was the one with side-swept bangs. She continued the gossip, “Back in primary school, no one ever wrote love letters. Then in college, I finally saw it—heard there’s a handsome guy from a neighboring school who delivers a letter to the faculty building every day. How happy would I be if someone wrote me a love letter every day?”
The pretty boy said, “I’ll write you one. Will you accept it?”
“You?” Da Huang thought for a moment, “That’s not the right procedure. Others write love letters without asking girls first, but you’re asking before writing… not sincere.”
The chubby boy laughed loudly, “So you’re not always perfect after all!”
The pretty boy retorted, “Keep it up and you’re paying the bill.”
The chubby boy shook his head, “No way.” He ate as he spoke, clear and confident.
Lu Yi Yi suddenly asked Zhang Pa, “Do you know Teacher Liu?”
“Yes,” Zhang Pa replied cheerfully.
“How did you meet her?” Lu Yi Yi was curious. “Teacher Liu is very low-key—she won’t speak at staff meetings, skips the welcome party, the graduation party, the end-of-year showcase. She’s like a heroine living in her own ancient tomb. They say last time there was a fundraising event, the dean ordered her to go, but she refused. The dean got furious; a forty-thousand sponsorship dropped to twenty thousand, just like that.”
“That’s nothing,” Da Huang said. “A TV crew came to recruit actors—a lead role—and Teacher Liu didn’t even acknowledge them. Another time, Zhang Da Huzi’s play invited her to audition in the capital, but she wouldn’t go. When Teacher Wang asked why, she said, ‘It’s not the lead role, so it makes no difference if I go or not.’”
The pretty boy sighed, “Isn’t that a bit arrogant?”
“Not arrogance—she just doesn’t care,” the ponytail girl said. “Teacher Liu has been at the conservatory for over a year, never seen her wear a skirt. She’s so cool, lots of girls look up to her.”
Hearing this, Zhang Pa glanced at the girls—sure enough, they all wore loose dance pants.
Lu Yi Yi asked, “Are you close with Teacher Liu?”
“Yes, very close,” Zhang Pa nodded.
The chubby boy said, “I can’t take it. How come you’re close with her? I never heard about this.”
“You only care about eating,” Zhang Pa replied. “I’m very, very close with her.”
“Yeah right,” Lu Yi Yi saw through his bluff.
Zhang Pa coughed. “Should we talk business now?”
The pretty boy asked, “What business?”
Zhang Pa looked serious as he addressed Lu Yi Yi, “Pretty boy likes you, I like you too. We’re going to duel for you—that’s why you’re all here for dinner. Afterward, don’t leave.”
The chubby boy snorted with laughter, “Both are nonsense, but why do I actually believe this one?”
“You’re nuts,” the pretty boy cursed.
Zhang Pa sighed and told the chubby boy to give Lu Yi Yi the script. “Look it over. If you’re not satisfied, say so. We’re casting a female lead to pair with the chubby boy. There’s no pay for the first few episodes—it depends on audience response and whether we can secure sponsors.”
“Alright, we’ll take it home and review it,” Lu Yi Yi answered.
Zhang Pa was happy now, but a little confused—how would he face the person he liked tonight?
After dinner, he rushed home to work, finishing everything before five o’clock. He shut down his computer, ran downstairs, hopped on his bicycle, and called, “Hey, where shall we eat?”
The voice on the other end was lovely. “I thought you’d stood me up,” she laughed, “but you wouldn’t dare.”
“See you in twenty minutes at the school gate,” Zhang Pa said.
She agreed, and hung up.
The owner of that voice was the Palace Mistress, raised in luxury since childhood. Her parents treated her like a real princess. Zhang Pa had known her for a very long time, since she was just a little girl.
He was much older—at least five, six, seven, or eight years older—and had always treated her with care. As she grew into a beautiful young woman and entered university, their contact ceased, actually even before her college entrance exams. Time flowed like water, and memories of the past would often return to him.
He was certain he liked her. Maybe she liked him too? Zhang Pa didn’t know. The age gap was a barrier, and he never had the chance to say any of this.
Once more, let it be said: a man cannot be poor. Without money, all is idle talk.
Broke, Zhang Pa dared not hope for anything, sneaking into this city because the Palace Mistress studied at the conservatory.
Over four years had passed; she should have entered graduate school and continued her studies. Zhang Pa, meanwhile, was aging faster—thirty and still unestablished.
Years had gone by, and this year they finally met again. Zhang Pa had no idea what to say, or what he could say. For example, the following question.
When they met, the Palace Mistress’s first words were, “Why haven’t you stayed in touch with me?”
Zhang Pa chuckled, “What shall we eat?”
“Smooth talker!” she pouted, her eyes wide and lips pursed, “You tell me what to eat.”
Zhang Pa thought for a moment and whispered, “Noodles?”
“Alright.” She laughed, “I know a place that’s really good, with great appetizers. You take me.” With that, she hopped onto the back seat of his bicycle.
“Show me the way,” Zhang Pa said as he pedaled off.
After they left, a handsome young man stepped out from the shadows near the school gate—the one always seen with the Palace Mistress. He stood there, lost in thought.
Zhang Pa didn’t know, nor did he know what was in his own heart. Perhaps even the most muddled romance dramas in the world couldn’t capture what he felt now. He pedaled silently, and soon arrived.
The noodle shop was small but clean, divided by a large glass wall into kitchen and dining area, so you could watch the chef at work.
The Palace Mistress ordered several appetizers, two bowls of noodles, and two bottles of beer. She poured a glass for Zhang Pa, “To celebrate us meeting after so long.”
“Isn’t that a reunion?” Zhang Pa asked.
“Reunion? Who have you been away from?” She smiled and clinked glasses with him. “Cheers.”
She really drank the whole glass in one go and put it down, “I’m so happy today.”
“Me too,” Zhang Pa said.
“If you’re happy, drink up—no cheating.” She stared at his glass.
Zhang Pa smiled, finished his beer, and she was already ready to pour more.
“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore,” she said, filling his glass. “Is that true?”
“Not at all!” Zhang Pa quickly replied.
She laughed, “I knew you wouldn’t ignore me. How could you ignore a princess as pretty and charming as me?”
He agreed.
She poured herself another glass and raised it, “One more.”
Zhang Pa drank it immediately, then set his glass aside, “Have some food.”
“Mm.” She put down her glass and smiled at him, watching quietly.
He asked, “Why are you looking at me?”
“I just remembered—we never took a photo together. You don’t have a picture of me, do you?” she asked.
He thought a moment, “I’ve seen your photos online.”
“Pretty, aren’t they?” She was now a graduate student, an adult, but with Zhang Pa she seemed to become that little girl again.
“Very pretty,” he replied.
“I want a photo together.” She stood behind him, holding her phone, their heads close. “Smile!”
He smiled. They took a photo.
She lingered and asked, “Aren’t you going to take one too?”
“Sure.” He pulled out his phone and snapped one as well.
Satisfied, she returned to her seat. The server shouted, “Whose noodles?”
“Here!” she called.
The server brought over two big bowls. “Two bowls?”
“Yes.” Zhang Pa took one and gently set it before her, then another for himself.
They ate quietly, both tacitly avoiding the past. Occasionally, she’d praise the noodle shop, and Zhang Pa listened attentively.
She didn’t ask why he hadn’t contacted her, nor what he’d been doing, nor why he’d vanished so long. Zhang Pa didn’t ask who the other young man was.
They finished quickly; Zhang Pa paid. Suddenly, she asked, “How many meals do you owe me?”
He raised a fist, “Ten.”
“Eleven,” she corrected.
“Yes, eleven,” he agreed.
She laughed, “You’re still the same as before. Whatever I say, you repeat.”
“Because you’re always right,” he replied.
“Come on, let me show you my campus.” She stood and walked out.
He followed, unlocking his bicycle. “Hop on.”
“Let’s walk back,” she said.
“Alright.” He pushed his bicycle, walking on the outside, letting her walk safely along the inner side of the sidewalk.