048 | (Forty-seven) Where to go

weekend.

Xie Qingyan invited Zhou Jianyang out to play. She got up early and dressed up in full makeup, yawning as she applied foundation in front of the mirror.

The powder puff wasn't wet enough, and my technique wasn't quite right, so a small layer of white skin peeled off the sides of my nose. I had to wash my face and start over.

The phone chimed softly. Xie Qingyan, who had only finished applying her eyelashes, hurriedly reached out with one hand to grab the phone and switch to WeChat.

Zhou Jianyang messaged her to ask if she was done yet, sounding like he was urging her. She replied perfunctorily, "Almost done."

Zhou Jianyang paused for a few seconds, typing intermittently, seemingly realizing that urging a girl to leave was beneath him, and then, displaying gentlemanly manners, asked if she wanted him to come pick her up.

Absolutely not.

Xie Qingyan broke out in a cold sweat, fearing that Zhou Jianyang had acted first and informed her later, and had already arrived without warning. She immediately put down the brush and sternly typed a refusal.

Then I ran to the window and looked out.

Her bedroom faced directly across from Su Xingmao's villa. Xie Qingyan leaned out and slightly opened the curtains that were completely covered.

The window of Su Xingmao's bedroom was open, and the white curtains fluttered in the wind, revealing a figure bent over writing.

Getting up early in the morning to do homework during the holidays? That's something else.

Xie Qingyan muttered to himself as he watched the shadow stand up, its tall figure looming over the window. Its head was obscured by the window frame, with only its chest and waist visible, bathed in the sunlight filtering through the paulownia trees.

Xie Qingyan hated her overly good eyesight, which allowed her to see clearly that he looked like he had just washed his hair, with water droplets running down his shoulders and neck. His shirt was soaked through, hanging like a thin veil on his body, revealing his clearly defined, white, and shiny skin, as if a layer of cold moonlight had been laid out from nowhere in broad daylight.

Xie Qingyan suddenly pulled down the curtains; she didn't want to be a voyeur.

She breathed a sigh of relief, certain that no unsuspecting surprise car was parked at the door—she didn't want anyone to know that she was neighbors with Su Xingmao.

Annoying things always come one after another; my eyeliner has gone smudged, and my lipstick is uneven.

Perhaps today's almanac indicates it's not auspicious to go out.

Xie Qingyan spent a long time putting on her makeup, then rummaged through her wardrobe and chose a long dress with contrasting orange and sky blue colors, bright and eye-catching. In the autumn of falling leaves, she looked like a golden ginkgo leaf reflected in the clear blue sky.

Ginkgo leaves flew down from Lingquan Mountain, carried by the wind, moving swiftly like arrows released from a bow, as if afraid of being overtaken by anyone.

After a dull week at school, the bird that has escaped its cage flies lightly.

Just as she had leaped out of the gate of his villa, a voice called out from behind to stop her: "Xie Qingyan."

She had to stop and turn around. Su Xingmao was standing on the second-floor windowsill, dressed in white and black, looking down at her with a solemn air.

The ghost lingers.

Xie Qingyan greeted him with a forced smile.

Su Xingmao's gaze was indifferent, yet it clung to her like a damp mist, refusing to dissipate: "Where are you going?"

"None of your business," she thought to herself, but what came out of her mouth was, "Take a picture."

After a few breaths of pause, he asked, "With whom?"

What right did he have to speak to her in such an accusatory tone? Xie Qingyan was displeased but held back for the time being: "Chen Huaixu."

Xie Qingyan suppressed her anger and emphasized her words, clearly not welcoming him: "We girls play together, are you going to come too?"

Su Xingmao, no longer wanting to make things awkward, gently reminded him, "Be careful."

Xie Qingyan snorted coldly, hopped and skipped onto the car, and drove off without looking back.

Su Xingmao stood quietly in place, watching the vehicles merge into the bustling street, until the last shadow disappeared.

Having finally dealt with the annoying guy, Xie Qingyan became even more determined to get rid of him. Su Xingmao was like a 24/7, 360-degree human-shaped camera, keeping a close eye on her every move.

There is no freedom at all.

The meeting place was set at the cultural square where the art studio was located.

In late September, the summer heat had begun to subside.

The sky was as blue as silk made of the sea, and the afternoon sun was still very strong. Zhou Jianyang wore a baseball cap, black clothes and black pants, strictly adhering to the cool guy persona. The brim of the cap was pulled low, covering half of his face, only revealing his smiling lips and a smooth jawline.

He leaned against the bus stop platform, his broad shoulders and long legs drawing attention. Every now and then, little girls with backpacks would pass by, half-covering their faces and whispering among themselves.

Because he was conspicuous, Xie Qingyan was able to spot him as soon as she got off the car.

He tilted his hat with a roguish air, swirling it in the air as he waved to her. His black hair was also whipped about by the wind, revealing his smooth forehead and a pair of eyes that gleamed in the sunlight.

Xie Qingyan is used to being in crowds, and it's rare for him to go out one-on-one with a woman.

I remember going to the arcade with Su Xingmao when I was a child. It was in this building, but times have changed. Now it has become a cultural square occupied by various tutoring institutions. What remains unchanged is the constant flow of people and time. It has been bustling for more than ten years.

Zhou Jianyang didn't seem to go out with girls often, so he went up to her and asked, "Where are you going?"