Like someone
I was staring at the ceiling when the alarm went off.
I didn’t sleep well last night and my dark circles are a bit heavy. When I was applying concealer in front of the mirror, the vibration of my phone woke me up a little.
There are two new messages on the phone, both from Zhao Yinfa.
The first one was a little after 1 a.m.: "Are you asleep?" The second was at 7 a.m.: "My home address. When you come over, pick up two bags of frozen dumplings with chive and egg filling."
The address wasn't far from my home, about a half-hour drive. I changed into a simple white T-shirt and jeans, and before leaving, I carefully checked my backpack to make sure the straw hat was safely inside before locking the door.
I ran into two fans while buying frozen dumplings at the supermarket. They brought my photo and asked for my autograph: "Teacher Wenxi, we watched 'Slow House by the Sea,' and you and Brother Yin are such a good match!"
After I signed my name, I waved goodbye to them with a smile, and turned around to see the yogurt in the refrigerator - it was the brand that Zhao Yin liked, sugar-free, and extremely sour.
I picked up two boxes and put them in the shopping cart.
When I arrived downstairs at Zhao Yin's house, I found that the community he lived in was completely different from what I had imagined. It was not one of those high-end apartments with security, but an old-fashioned residential building with a small breakfast stall at the door.
I sent him a WeChat message saying I had arrived, and within two minutes, I saw him walking out of the corridor. He was wearing a gray home suit and his hair was a little messy.
"Come up." He took the shopping bag from my hand and his eyes fell on the shell bracelet. "You haven't taken it off yet?"
"You said we are not allowed to pick them." I followed him up the stairs. The stairwell was a little dark, and he walked in front.
His house is on the third floor. The door is an old wooden door with a faded "Fu" character pasted on it.
The moment I pushed open the door, I was stunned. The room was tidier than I imagined, even a little empty. There was only a sofa, a coffee table and a TV in the living room. There were no decorative paintings on the wall, only a simple bookshelf filled with books.
"Sit anywhere." He put the shopping bag at the kitchen door and turned to pour me some water. "The water dispenser is over there. Do you want cold or hot water?"
"It's fine as long as it's cool." I sat down on the sofa and found that the sofa cover was gray, a little faded from washing, but very clean.
He brought some water and placed it on the coffee table in front of me. "The refrigerator is indeed broken. I discovered yesterday that the freezer is not cooling."
"Let me take a look?" I put down the cup and stood up. Actually, I knew nothing about home appliances. I just wanted to find something to do.
The refrigerator is in the kitchen. It is a very old double-door refrigerator with a few scratches on the white shell.
I opened the freezer and found that there was no cold air inside. There were only a few bags of frozen dumplings and a box of ice cubes.
"There seems to be something wrong." I touched the wall of the refrigerator, pretending to understand. "Maybe the compressor is broken?"
Zhao Yin stood beside me, looked down at my flustered appearance, and suddenly laughed: "Stop pretending, you don't understand at all."
"Who said that!" I was unconvinced. "I helped my mom fix the microwave before."
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "Then tell me, why doesn't the microwave heat up?"
I'm stuck.
Actually, the microwave plug was loose that time, and I was just lucky.
He stopped teasing me and took out his phone to call the repairman. His tone was concise and clear: "Well, the freezer of the three-door refrigerator won't cool... Yes, I'm free this morning... Okay, thank you for your help."
After hanging up the phone, he leaned against the kitchen door frame and looked at me: "The maintenance man will be here in half an hour."
"Oh." I was a little embarrassed and turned to go to the living room, but he stopped me.
"Put the dumplings in the kitchen and cook them for lunch."
He pointed to the table next to the sink and said, "The yogurt you bought will last a while in the refrigerator."
I put the yogurt in the refrigerator and almost bumped into him when I turned around.
He reached out and supported me, his palms on my waist.
"Be careful." He withdrew his hand and smiled at me.
We went back to the living room and sat down. The TV was on, playing the morning news, not loud enough to break the silence. I stared at the weather forecast on the screen.
"Um..." I was trying to find a topic, "You seem to have a lot of photography books on your bookshelf?"
"Yeah, I used to like taking pictures." He followed my gaze towards the bookshelf, "but then I got busy and didn't touch it much."
"I've seen your photos in magazines." I remembered that a photography magazine used his photo of a sunset at the seaside last year. The composition was very unique. "It's very well taken."
The corners of his mouth curved down: "I can take you to shoot when I have time."
"real?"
"Yeah." He nodded. "Wait until you finish filming the next movie, if you have time."
My heart moved and just as I was about to say "OK" I heard a knock on the door.
The maintenance man came, Zhao Yin got up to open the door, the two talked in low voices for a few words, and then went into the kitchen together.
I was sitting in the living room and heard the sound of the refrigerator door opening and closing and the clatter of tools coming from the kitchen.
Suddenly I realized that the curtains in his house are very similar to mine, both are light gray. I wonder if it’s a coincidence.
About twenty minutes later, Zhao Yin brought the repairman out. He paid, closed the door, and raised his chin at me: "It's fixed. They said the wiring was bad."
"Oh, that's good."
"What do you want for lunch?" He walked to the kitchen door. "Dumplings, or should I make something else?"
"Dumplings are fine." I stood up. "Can I help you cook?"
"No, just sit down." He put on an apron, a very ordinary dark blue apron. "Can you cook?"
"Of course!" I was unconvinced. "My dumplings never break when I cook them."
He ignored me and added water to the pot. I stood at the kitchen door and watched him. He was very skilled at cooking, unlike the usual people who were too lazy to even screw on the bottle cap.
When the water boiled, he poured the dumplings into the pot, gently pushed them with a spoon to prevent them from sticking to the bottom of the pot, and steam rose.
"Why are you standing here?" He turned around and looked at me. "Go to the living room. It's hot here."
"I want to watch you cook dumplings." As soon as I said that, I felt it was a bit too blunt, so I quickly added, "Learn from it, so you don't end up breaking it yourself later."
He chuckled and didn't chase me away. When the dumplings floated up, he added some cold water, his movements methodical and orderly.
"Alright." He scooped out the dumplings and placed them on two white porcelain plates. "The vinegar is on the table, pour it yourself."
I sat down at the dining table and found that none of the dumplings he cooked were broken. They were all round and plump, steaming hot. I poured some vinegar, picked up one and took a bite. It was filled with leeks and eggs.
"Is it delicious?" He sat opposite me and started eating.
"Yeah, it tastes better than what I cook."
"That's because the dumplings are good." He looked up at me. "I used to eat this brand you bought often."
I was stunned for a moment before I realized that he might have known this brand for a long time and deliberately asked me to buy it. I felt a little embarrassed, so I lowered my head and picked at the dumplings in the bowl, not daring to look at him.
After lunch, I offered to wash the dishes.
He didn't object, just leaned against the kitchen door and looked at me.
"By the way," he suddenly said, "are you free next Saturday?"
"Should be, what's wrong?"
"There's a photography exhibition I want to see," he said. "A friend gave me two tickets."
"Okay." I looked up at him, trying to make my tone sound natural. "Contact me then?"
"Yeah." He nodded, the corners of his mouth curled up, "I'll call you."
After washing the dishes, I checked the time. It was almost two in the afternoon. "I should go home now. I have something else to do this afternoon."
"I'll take you there." He took off his apron and hung it casually on the back of a chair.
"No, I can do it myself..."
"It's hard to get a taxi downstairs." He picked up the keys and said, "Let's go."
We went downstairs together. The corridor was very quiet, with only the sound of our footsteps.
When we reached the second floor, he suddenly stopped and turned to look at me: "Um..."
"Um?"
He looked up at me again, his eyes seemed a little hesitant: "Nothing, let's go."
When he got downstairs, he really hailed a taxi.
When he opened the car door, he suddenly said, "If the bracelet is dirty, don't use detergent to wash it, just rinse it with water."
"Oh, okay." I was stunned for a moment before I reacted.
"Get on." He patted the seat. "Be careful on the road."
"You too." I got in the car and looked back at him.
He was standing by the roadside.
The taxi drove for a while and I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that he was still standing there.
I don’t know why, but this weekend seems to be particularly worth looking forward to.
My phone vibrated. It was a WeChat message from Zhao Yinfa: "The dumplings are delicious. Thanks."
I stared at the screen, tapping my fingers on it for a long time, and finally replied, "I'll treat you next time."
I put down my phone, walked to the window, and watched the people coming and going downstairs.
I opened my second account, thought for a moment, and posted a new Weibo post: "Today's dumplings are especially delicious." I added a dumpling emoticon that I had saved earlier. It was round and cute.
It turns out that when you like someone, even waiting becomes interesting, especially everything you do together.
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