Wen Ying swore she’d never had the habit of daydreaming in broad daylight!
Ever since she “prematurely” met Xie Qian at Teacher Lin’s house, many things had veered off their original course. Developing a tendency to daydream wasn’t all that surprising—ouch, that hurt.
She secretly pinched her thigh under the desk. The pain was too real. Wen Ying shot up from her seat, clumsily knocking over the chair in her panic, leaving her so embarrassed she didn’t know where to put her hands or feet.
God, why did she have to humiliate herself in front of Xie Qian!
Xie Qian strode over, righting the toppled desk, both helpless and amused.
It had been nearly a month since they last saw each other, and Wen Hamster hadn’t changed a bit.
Still with that round face, charging around recklessly, like a little firecracker.
“Xie Qian, why are you back in Rongcheng… I mean, it’s not that you can’t come back, but aren’t high schools in Beijing registering these days too?”
It was definitely Xie Qian.
The pinch on her thigh hurt, and as Xie Qian approached, that crisp, clean snow-mountain aura—if this was a dream, how could it feel so real?
Even if Xie Qian had returned to Rongcheng, why would he appear in Class 16’s classroom on the exact day of registration for the provincial key school? Wen Ying had a guess but didn’t dare believe it.
“High school registration in Beijing—what does that have to do with me? I’m not staying there to study.”
Maybe it was her imagination, but after he said this, Wen Ying’s eyes seemed to widen a fraction.
Xie Qian felt a faint, inexplicable joy. He felt like he’d been encased in ice, drifting aimlessly in a lonely sea for ages. Then, unexpectedly, he encountered a warm ocean current, slowly melting the ice around him… Panic? A little. This feeling was unfamiliar, but it was overshadowed by anticipation. Xie Qian didn’t resist this mysterious joy.
“Why are you looking at me like that? I transferred. I want to study high school in Rongcheng.”
The decision had been made long ago.
From making the choice to putting it into action, to finalizing the paperwork today, Xie Qian had plenty of chances to tell Wen Ying but held back.
It was his nature—until something was certain, he wouldn’t speak of it.
Raising expectations only to disappoint others was something Xie Qian despised.
Of course, he couldn’t deny that keeping his return to Rongcheng a secret from Wen Ying was partly to surprise her. Registration at the provincial key school spanned two days, and while Xie Qian didn’t know if Wen Ying would come today or tomorrow, they were both assigned to Class 16, so they were bound to meet within these two days.
From Xie Qian’s perspective, Wen Ying seemed more shocked than surprised. When she asked why he returned to Rongcheng, there was a hint of unrealistic expectation in her tone.
When he revealed he’d transferred to the provincial key school, her eyes glistened with moisture.
Wen Ying was so overwhelmed with surprise she seemed on the verge of tears.
Had he made a mistake?
“It was just an idea at first. Since it wasn’t confirmed, I didn’t mention it.”
“I arrived in Rongcheng a couple of days ago to handle some personal matters.”
Xie Qian offered a brief explanation, but the moisture in Wen Ying’s eyes only grew, threatening to spill over. He set his backpack on the desk. “I brought you a gift.”
Girls usually perk up when they receive gifts, right? Xie Qian never imagined he’d resort to giving gifts to distract a girl.
As he reached into his bag, Wen Ying broke into a tearful smile. “I’m not upset. I’m just really surprised. You actually brought me a gift? Let me see what it is. Oh, and I told you, I’m treating you to dinner with my manuscript fees, so I still owe you a meal—”
Wen Ying trailed off as Xie Qian pulled out the gift.
It wasn’t the usual black or silver casing but a milky-white metal shell—a Samsung laptop, somewhat bulky by 2019 standards but sleek and lightweight for 2004.
Xie Qian’s enrollment gift for her was a laptop?
Wen Ying felt it was a bit odd.
Giving electronics as an enrollment gift seemed like something older relatives would do.
But a laptop from Xie Qian was far better than a stack of Huanggang practice tests. Honestly, when Xie Qian reached for the “gift,” Wen Ying had feared he’d pull out a pile of exam papers!
Setting aside the price of this cutting-edge Samsung X30 laptop, the gift was perfectly suited to Wen Ying’s tastes. In her previous life, she’d grown accustomed to working on a laptop for years. Without a computer, she felt restricted.
Though she no longer needed to draft agreements, she was now writing. Handwriting manuscripts on traditional draft paper took too long, but typing on a computer was different—Wen Ying’s typing speed was lightning-fast… Wait, was this why Xie Qian gave her a laptop?
Before Xie Qian left Rongcheng, when they went to see Li Mengjiao’s talent show, Wen Ying had shared her dream of becoming a writer.
That night, she received a publication acceptance from *Aige* magazine’s editor.
Her first instinct was to share the joy with Xie Qian, but his phone went unanswered. Then he left Rongcheng, and they lost contact for nearly a month.
Wen Ying still remembered her promise to treat him to dinner with her manuscript fees.
And Xie Qian, despite leaving Rongcheng abruptly, remembered her dream of becoming a writer.
Wen Ying didn’t know what other girls would do or whether they’d dare accept such an expensive gift for a student. At this moment, she genuinely wanted to keep it.
…So, she’d keep it.
Would accepting the laptop make Xie Qian see her as a gold-digger or frivolous?
No, Xie Qian wouldn’t think that way.
Xie Qian was true to his word. He gave her this gift because he thought she’d like it, because he believed she needed it—and Wen Ying truly did. This laptop hit right at her heart.
She took the laptop from Xie Qian, examining it fondly, unable to put it down.
“I won’t stand on ceremony then. Thank you, I love it!”
Accepting the pricey laptop, Wen Ying felt no guilt. She was confident in her abilities and knew she could return the gesture with a gift of equal value.
Of course, there was no rush for a return gift. Being too transactional would turn it into a rigid exchange. Wen Ying was still set on treating Xie Qian to dinner with her manuscript fees.
“What do you want to eat? My novel published in the magazine earned me 640 yuan in fees. That’s my budget for treating you.”
Six hundred forty yuan, without alcohol, was enough in 2004 for Wen Ying to take Xie Qian to a nice restaurant—equivalent to half a month’s salary for the average person.
Though Wen Ying had earned plenty from her lobster business, the 640 yuan in manuscript fees held special meaning, far outweighing the 20,000 yuan she’d given her mother, Chen Ru.
Treating Xie Qian with this money filled Wen Ying with genuine pride.
Seeing Wen Ying happily accept the laptop, Xie Qian was already pleased. Sensing her sincerity, his tone lightened. “I’ll have to think carefully about where to eat and what to have for this meal.”
Neither mentioned inviting Qin Jiao, Wang Shuang, or others, tacitly agreeing the dinner would be just the two of them.
As for why they shared this unspoken understanding, neither Wen Ying nor Xie Qian gave it much thought at the time.
