That was classic “offering your face only to have it slapped” behaviour, deliberately picking a fight.
Wen Ying slowly let the smile fade from her face. “You have the right to ask questions. I have the right not to answer.”
The young woman stood there for a few seconds. Getting no reply, she didn’t press the issue and simply took her tray to another table.
Mu Fan watched her retreating back, brows knitted. “See? I told you the people here are complicated.”
Wen Ying lowered her voice. “Do you know her?”
Mu Fan shook his head. “Never seen her. She might not even be in our session. Our training course is short, but the college also runs a senior research programme that lasts at least six months long. And sometimes postgrads from Beijing universities come here for classes too.”
When the forest is big enough, every kind of bird shows up. Since Mu Fan didn’t recognise her, Wen Ying didn’t dwell on the incident either.
That evening Xie Qian asked if she was settling in okay at the college.
“Peng Guoqing said the dorm conditions are pretty basic?”
“The dorm is fine. At least everyone gets a single room, no one disturbing anyone else. If I had to nit-pick… the canteen food is a bit salty. Though that’s probably just a Beijing thing. They’re not going to change the entire kitchen for one student.”
Too salty? Wen Ying’s solution was simple: eat less of the dishes, more rice.
Actually, aside from the salt, the canteen was excellent. Braised lion’s head meatballs were huge and packed with meat, red-braised pork melted in the mouth, the celery-and-prawn stir-fry had plump, distinct prawns… more than a dozen dishes, meat and veg perfectly balanced. Rice came with steamed buns and stuffed baozi on the side, and there was unlimited yoghurt and fruit. You could eat as much as you wanted without wasting anything, and it was all free for trainees didn’t pay a penny. If Wen Ying complained now, she’d just be spoiled.
She mentioned it casually, but Xie Qian quietly filed away the words “canteen food too salty”.
Even if he had all the money in the world, he couldn’t replace the college cooks, but he could find other ways.
If Wen Ying insisted on bonding with her classmates and eating in the canteen, Xie Qian’s plan was to have meals delivered twice a day. She could sneak extra food between meals.
“No, no, that’s way too over the top. Everyone would see and I’d get crucified.”
Wen Ying refused outright, so Xie Qian reluctantly dropped the idea.
Fine, no deliveries. Instead he decided to make Peng Guoqing visit the college every couple of days under the guise of “family visits” and bring better food.
Peng Green-Hair had nothing better to do anyway; might as well recycle the waste!
When Wen Ying mentioned Mu Fan, Xie Qian’s ears instantly pricked up. He kept his tone deliberately casual. “You two get along?”
“Of course. Mu Fan’s interesting. He debuted earlier than me and must have earned a fortune from his books these past few years. Now he’s slowly returning to basics with his writing.”
Wen Ying was never stingy with praise for fellow writers.
People say writers are prone to jealousy, yet Wen Ying could genuinely admire a peer. That openness was rare.
Rationally, Xie Qian knew Wen Ying and Mu Fan had only just met, nothing compared to the three years he and Wen Ying had spent together. Still, the thought of them spending the next month side by side made something sour bubble up inside him.
After hanging up, Xie Qian couldn’t help searching Mu Fan online.
Mu Fan had become famous in his teens; he was only twenty-three now.
Average height, on the slim side, quite refined-looking, with a distinctly literary vibes.
Young, talented, not bad-looking.
Xie Qian suddenly regretted, deeply regretted, not having accompanied Wen Ying to registration.
Wen Ying had no idea about Xie Qian’s little jealous fit. She was thick-skinned and slept beautifully that first night. The next morning she woke naturally to birdsong outside the window.
Many trainees had eaten out the previous evening, but this morning almost everyone chose the canteen.
Mu Fan was the only person she knew, so naturally she sat with him.
Everyone in this session was a young writer, none older than thirty-five; the youngest was Wen Ying herself. Most were in their mid-twenties like Mu Fan.
Several of the writers were names Wen Ying recognised from her previous life, even if she’d never met them in person. Quite a few had come up through the same New Concept Essay Competition she had. She hadn’t met them, but she’d read their books; in a way, they were already old acquaintances.
Ordinary people imagine writers are all eloquent and quick-witted. In reality it’s the opposite.
The ones who can really write often have the least to say.
Chatty ones like Wen Ying and Mu Fan were the exception. Most writers were shy, and when they didn’t know each other well they all displayed mild social-anxiety tendencies.
Breakfast was followed by the opening ceremony.
College leadership attended and welcomed everyone, expressing hopes that all trainees would gain much over the coming month.
Wen Ying spotted the young woman from the canteen last night.
After the leaders spoke, the woman took the microphone to introduce herself.
She turned out to be He Xin, the instructor in charge of their session.
“…In short, while you’re here, come to me with any problem. If it’s a daily-life issue I’ll solve it; if it’s a creative issue I can’t solve, we’ll figure it out together!”
Twenty-seven-year-old He Xin spoke with complete confidence.
After all, she already held a PhD in contemporary literature and writing theory.
Besides teaching at the college, in the past two years He Xin had also become a highly regarded literary critic.
Mu Fan gave Wen Ying a sympathetic glance and whispered, “The more famous you are, the more trouble follows. Looks like Teacher He already has a negative preconception about you.”
Wen Ying glared at him. “Don’t talk nonsense. Teacher He just doesn’t know me well enough yet. Once she does, she’ll definitely like me. I have a whole month to change her opinion. I’m very optimistic!”
Mu Fan thought about it and actually nodded. “Your face is as thick as your book sales are high.”
What else could Wen Ying do?
If she’d known last night that the woman was a teacher, not a trainee… she’d probably still have snapped back.
If someone treated Wen Ying with respect, she returned it fivefold.
But when someone came with prejudice, Wen Ying found it hard to keep smiling, especially when she didn’t need anything from them. She wasn’t about to wrong herself.
If Teacher He genuinely disliked her, fine. Wen Ying wouldn’t lose any flesh over it.
…
At the Peng house.
Granny Peng watched her daughter-in-law packing snacks and looked envious.
“So this girl is Xie Qian’s girlfriend?”
Mrs. Peng patiently corrected her, “Mum, not girlfriend, just a good friend!”
Granny Peng’s face practically had “don’t lie to old people” written across it. “Good friend, sure. Xie Qian already has his ‘good friend’, so why doesn’t our Guoqing?”
Mrs. Peng considered this seriously. “Guoqing isn’t as clever as Xie Qian. Xie Qian can multitask; Guoqing can’t.”
Granny Peng refused to hear her eldest grandson slighted. “Heaven is fair. Guoqing may not be as smart, but our family is more harmonious than the Xie family. If Guoqing ever gets a ‘good friend’, he can bring her home openly. Xie Qian has to keep his hidden.”
Xie Qian’s “good friend” wasn’t welcomed by the Xie family; instead the Pengs were running around looking after her.
All because of that unreliable Xie Jinghu.
Zou Weijun clearly knew Wen Ying was in Beijing, yet to avoid causing trouble she had to stay far away.
Apart from Zou Weijun, the rest of the Xie family didn’t even know Wen Ying existed.
…Was that really the case?
