October in Osaka had entered late autumn, with gloomy clouds gathering. I wore a knee-length skirt and a beige long coat. As the wind blew, my hair became disheveled, and a chill crept into my bones. I wrapped my coat tightly, rubbed my cold knees, and vowed never to do something so beautiful yet freezing again.
Suddenly, a bright sports car screeched to a stop beside me. The window rolled down, revealing a striking man with slightly raised eyebrows, a straight nose, and soft, elongated eyes. For a moment, I lost myself, forgetting my surroundings.
“Need help?” he asked in Japanese. I came to my senses and quickly handed him the map, pointing to the supermarket’s name. “How do I get to this supermarket?” I asked in my poor Japanese.
He rattled off a string of words at lightning speed. Struggling to understand, I switched to English: “I’m sorry, do you speak English?” He examined me, and it seemed he didn’t. Just as I was about to take back the map, I unexpectedly heard standard Mandarin: “Get in. I’ll take you!” I was slightly stunned.
My national pride exploded, and I mentally cheered: I knew this handsome guy couldn’t be Japanese!
“Thank you!” I said as I got into the car.
“Fasten your seatbelt!” he reminded me.
Just as I buckled up, he floored the gas pedal, and the car swung around like a flying object.
I secretly observed him. Based on the luxury of his car, I figured he was either from a wealthy family or a high-ranking official’s background. I’d heard about many young men abroad wasting time with luxury cars.
Just as I wondered how to break the silence, he introduced himself: “Hello, I’m Ye Zhengchen. What’s your name?”
Ye Zhengchen?! I looked him up and down. No wonder he was wearing a standard Japanese suit—he had just come from a meeting.
“I’m Bao Bing,” I said.
“When did you come to Japan?” he asked.
“Just two weeks ago.”
“What are you doing in Japan?”
“Studying.”
As I finished speaking, he stopped the car and pointed at the supermarket sign: “This is it.” I checked the map and realized the Indian map had drawn the direction wrong.
“Um… where are you going later?” I asked, hoping he would head back to his apartment so I could catch a ride back.
He seemed puzzled by my question but didn’t show any annoyance, politely answering, “Back to my apartment.” I smiled and asked, “Are you in a hurry? Can you wait three minutes?” He half-squinted his eyes, a mischievous smile on his face, revealing a hint of wildness in his handsome features. “If you want to go to my apartment, I don’t mind.” I found this new neighbor interesting and wanted to tease him a bit. “Okay!”
Author’s note: What follows will be a sweet ambiguous period, no suffering. My editing control has acted up again, everyone understand, right? Also, I have good news to share. The publication agreement for “Love” has just been signed and sent to JJ for review by the end of October. Teacher Yang, I can finally put you by my bedside! Qian Hui
My straightforward answer made Ye Zhengchen pause slightly, watching me walk into the supermarket with a confused gaze. I bought instant noodles and eggs quickly. When I came out, exactly three minutes had passed, and he was still waiting. His gaze now showed more focus and contemplation. “Let’s go!” He started the car, and within ten minutes, we arrived at our apartment, proving that luxury sports cars can be practical. As he got out, I noticed how tall he was, his well-tailored black suit perfectly showcasing his physique.
The last rays of dusk fell on Ye Zhengchen, illuminating his face with surprising brightness. I was somewhat dazed, following him upstairs until we reached his apartment door. He turned back, looking uncertain, as if about to say something.
I smiled sweetly and pointed to his door, where a note was neatly written in Chinese: “Hello, my name is Bo Bing, and I live next door. I’ll need some time to apply for internet. Can I share your network in the meantime? Thank you! My contact information: [signed with a cute smiley face].”
Ye Zhengchen read the note and smiled at me, his enchanting smile accentuated by the corners of his mouth and a hint of charm.
I couldn’t hear Ye Zhengchen’s response, but it seemed positive. Then, suddenly, I heard a voice, “You didn’t see me, and you didn’t even answer my calls…”
“…”
“Don’t think I don’t know you came back last night with Tanaka Yuko. You were with her, weren’t you?”
I nearly choked at these words. A man caught cheating by his girlfriend—what a tragedy! Curiosity piqued, I slipped into the bathroom for better acoustics to listen more clearly.
“Yes!” I finally heard Ye Zhengchen’s low, resolute response.
“I spent the night with her, and I slept in the same bed with her every day in Tokyo. Are you satisfied now?”
“You! You…”
“If you want to be with me, you can move in tonight. I don’t mind!”
“Shameless!” Qin Xue’s voice was mixed with sobs.
“It’s not too late to know now!”
Qin Xue ran out crying, quickly disappearing at the end of the corridor. Her tears were like amber formed over thousands of years, droplets condensing sorrow. When sorrow turns into amber, what else can one pray for?!
This was my first day knowing Ye Zhengchen. A typical playboy! Yesterday he showed endless tenderness; today he might be rolling in bed with another woman. Don’t blame, don’t hate, because he never concealed his baseness, clearly stating that all he could offer was today, with no future or promises. Choosing him meant knowing the outcome! But why did Qin Xue still love him? Was the brief moment of passion all that was etched in her bones?
After sympathizing with Qin Xue’s spring hatred and autumn sorrow, and feeling my stomach growl, I realized handsome men can’t be eaten. People should indeed prioritize food. I took out the leftover spicy chicken from the fridge to reheat and cooked a bowl of spicy dan dan noodles. Just as I sat down to eat a couple of bites, the doorbell rang, ringing only once, a visitor waiting quietly with excellent patience.
I opened the door to find Ye Zhengchen standing outside with a beautifully packaged box of chocolates. “Hello, I hope I’m not interrupting?”
“No,” I hurriedly replied, wiping my mouth even though I had already done so before opening the door.
He handed me the chocolates, saying he bought them during a meeting in Tokyo. I happily accepted, knowing this was a local custom of sharing famous local food. However, I wondered who he originally intended to give this gift to.
As he entered, he gazed at the spicy chicken and dan dan noodles on my table. “Smells good. Are you from Sichuan?”
“Mm, from Nanzhou, Sichuan. Haven’t you had dinner yet? Sit down and eat together.”
He didn’t refuse and sat down when I set out bowls and chopsticks for him. He expressed his love for Sichuan cuisine but mentioned that Japanese people were afraid of spicy food, so he could never enjoy authentic Sichuan dishes in Japan. Therefore, every time he returned to China, he would indulge in Sichuan food for several days before leaving.
I said, “My friends say the same. I brought an entire suitcase of seasonings, including authentic hot pot base. I’ll treat you to spicy hot pot someday.”
He looked up with childlike eagerness. “I’m free this weekend!” I couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm.
“I’m busy this weekend, going to the lab to culture cells…” I paused, observing the light in his eyes dim before smiling and saying, “I’m free tomorrow night. What time can you come back?”
“Seven o’clock, I’ll buy groceries!”
I wanted to ask if he had any girlfriend who could cook for him, but decided to keep the atmosphere harmonious.
After dinner, I cleaned up the dishes while he helped set up and test the network stability.
“Thank you for dinner,” Ye Zhengchen said before leaving.
“No problem, just home-cooked food.”
