Flirting Under Favor (GL) - Chapter 2
After dinner with her grandmother, Wang Lin and the old lady sat on the sofa watching a soap opera and eating cookies. Wang Lin was bored, but the old lady was engrossed, often commenting on the plot.
“Oh, that man is such a scoundrel.”
“Mmm.”
“The whole family is evil, they don’t do anything decent.”
“Definitely.”
Wang Lin agreed, leaning against the old lady and starting to feel sleepy.
Seeing the bag in her hand was almost empty, the old lady said to Wang Lin, “Get me another bag of cookies, dear.”
“Cookies are high in sugar, eating too many isn’t good.”
The old lady said proudly, “Mine are sugar-free.”
Wang Lin had no choice but to get up, retrieve a bag of cookies from the old lady’s snack cupboard, tear it open for her, and then take a few for herself. The male and female leads on the TV were arguing hysterically. Wang Lin was scrolling through her phone when she suddenly received a friend request. Upon seeing the note, she was immediately overjoyed and quickly accepted.
The other party’s nickname was Xi You He Hua, and their profile picture was an ancient-style woman leading a little girl, which was quite endearing.
Xi You He Hua: “Hello.”
Wang Lin: “Hello.”
Xi You He Hua: “Did you find my campus card?”
Wang Lin: “Yes, I found it in the snow the day you bumped into me. I picked it up after you left.”
A moment of silence.
Xi You He Hua: “Sorry, I was in a hurry at the time and didn’t even apologize properly.”
Wang Lin: “It’s okay.”
Xi You He Hua: “You weren’t hurt, were you?”
Wang Lin thought, so she hadn’t checked if I was hurt before she ran off. What kind of emergency was it?
Wang Lin: “No, you broke my fall.”
Xi You He Hua: “That’s good to hear.”
Wang Lin: “How should I give you the card?”
Xi You He Hua: “How about you mail it to me? I’ll cover the postage. Or you can hold onto it for a bit longer and give it to me when school starts.”
Wang Lin habitually picked at her head with her index finger. Mailing it was too much hassle and cost money, so she said, “I’ll give it to you when school starts. That’ll save you some postage.”
Xi You He Hua: “Okay, then give it to me when the semester begins. I’ll contact you then.”
Wang Lin: “Alright.”
The chat ended.
Wang Lin instinctively clicked into Mu Fan’s profile.
“The owner has set privacy restrictions. You can request access.”
Wang Lin frowned.
She had no choice but to go back to watching the show. After a while, Wang Lin couldn’t help but yawn. Seeing this, the old lady patted her head and said, “If you’re tired, go to sleep. You don’t have to keep me company.”
“Okay.” Wang Lin stretched, and wobbled to her room.
She lay down, but then wasn’t sleepy anymore.
She sat up, opened the chat with Xi You He Hua, hesitated for a moment, and typed a single word: “Beep.”
A while later.
Xi You He Hua: “Hello.”
It was that polite “hello” again. Sometimes, excessive politeness creates a sense of distance. Wang Lin wasn’t a talkative person and didn’t know what to say.
Xi You He Hua: “Little junior, not sleeping yet?”
The distance between people is often reflected in their titles. Wang Lin saw the words “little junior” and felt her relationship with this online friend had become a bit closer.
Wang Lin: “Yeah, almost.”
Xi You He Hua: “Did you need something from me?”
Wang Lin’s finger hovered over the screen for a long time. She wanted to ask what had happened to the other person that day, what kind of emergency she had, but that was a personal matter. Whether it was a big deal or a small one, it was inappropriate to ask so abruptly when they weren’t close.
While Wang Lin was hesitating, her phone chimed again.
Xi You He Hua: “Hmm?”
Wang Lin decided not to ask after all. She typed out a line: “Well, I hope you’re doing well.”
But Wang Lin regretted sending this nonsensical, out-of-the-blue message as soon as she did. Sure enough, the other person didn’t reply for a long time. Wang Lin threw her phone onto her lap, lay back against the pillow, and sighed. “I’ve killed the conversation,” she thought.
A little later.
Xi You He Hua: “Thank you.”
Xi You He Hua: “Little junior, you must also be well.” And a pat-on-the-head emoji.
The emoji was very endearing. Wang Lin was a sucker for that kind of thing. A smile spread across her face, and she replied with a “Good.”
The chat ended again.
Wang Lin edited the note to the name Mu Fan.
/
S City.
The roads were full of potholes, and a putrid smell emanated from the gutters. The plants were overgrown and neglected, their branches crooked and twisted, casting menacing shadows under the dim streetlights.
This was a very old residential building. The exterior walls were mottled, bearing the marks of time. The stairwell was dark, with some of the lights broken. The walls were covered with all sorts of messy advertisements: lock repairs, key replacements, no-collateral loans, and even driver’s license points for sale.
Mu Fan lived here, in a small studio on the top floor. It was small but had everything she needed—a bathroom and a kitchen—and the rent was extremely low.
Because it was on the top floor, it wasn’t too damp, and the walls were still smooth, though they were very dirty. When Mu Fan moved in, she bought wallpaper and covered the entire room, making it look brand new.
The messy wires were carefully tidied up, and the floor was cleaned multiple times until it was sparkling. Compared to the outside, the entire room was like “fine jade within a decaying exterior.” Although she lived in a dilapidated neighborhood, she couldn’t just settle for a mediocre living space.
After a long period of confusion and listlessness, Mu Fan finally got out of bed, tidied up her room, and tidied herself up. She looked in the mirror and was startled by her reflection, which looked one-third human and seven-thirds like a ghost.
She now sat at the dining table with a steaming bowl of noodles in front of her. The bowl contained only the glistening noodles, a fried egg, and a few pieces of greens.
Her phone, which was on the side of the bowl, was lit up with her conversation with Wang Lin.
“I hope you’re doing well.”
Mu Fan stared at the message, her chopsticks not moving for a long time.
Often, comfort from a stranger is easier to be touched by. Regardless, life had to go on. Mu Fan turned off her phone, focused on eating her noodles, then washed the dishes, brushed her teeth, went to bed, turned off the light, and went to sleep.
Before sleeping, she reflected for a moment and comforted herself.
There is so much misfortune in this world. There are only the luckiest people, but no most unfortunate people; tragedy often has no lower limit. There are countless people in the world living in suffering—war, famine, plague, life and death separations happen every day. At least I am not the worst off. Even ants cling to life; if you are alive, you must live well.
Don’t think about it. It’s all in the past. From now on, it’s just me.
/
In the blink of an eye, it was New Year’s Eve.
When Wang Lin woke up in the morning, Lin Jia wasn’t there. Only the two elderly people and a domestic helper were leisurely preparing the New Year’s Eve dinner. With Lin Jia not being there, Wang Lin grumbled internally about which business partner was so inconsiderate as to make her work on New Year’s.
Seeing how hard Lin Jia worked, Wang Lin had thought about helping her in the future, but she had absolutely no interest in the business world. Her heart was willing, but her strength was lacking. This had been a long-standing source of distress for Wang Lin. Lin Jia would tease her, saying that finding a capable boyfriend would be the same.
In response to her mother’s teasing, Wang Lin would retort, “Then you can find an uncle to bring home, too.”
Wang Lin had grown up without a father. Although it hadn’t affected her development, she was curious why it was so easy for her mother, given her circumstances, to find another man, even with her.
At that, Lin Jia would tap Wang Lin and say, “Don’t talk nonsense!”
Wang Lin knew she had said the wrong thing and that Lin Jia didn’t like to talk about this topic, so she never brought it up again.
Wang Lin had never been one to lift a finger in the kitchen. After putting up the spring couplets and window decorations, she felt completely justified in lying on the sofa and playing on her phone.
She opened the chat with Mu Fan. Wang Lin had no intention of continuing their awkward conversation. On a whim, she clicked into the other person’s profile again. This time, there were no privacy restrictions.
Wang Lin was ecstatic. Generally, if a profile has privacy restrictions for friends, it means that, in their eyes, the other person is just a regular online acquaintance. With the restrictions lifted, Wang Lin felt their relationship had taken another step forward.
There wasn’t much in Mu Fan’s profile, only a dozen or so posts spanning four or five years. Some were landscape photos, perhaps from traveling, but Wang Lin couldn’t tell where. There were also excerpts from various books, suggesting she was an avid reader. The rest were shared snippets of interesting or funny news. In total, there was no useful information to help Wang Lin better understand the owner of the profile. The photo album was also empty.
Holding her phone, Wang Lin finally realized the impropriety of her actions. It felt like she was trying to pry into someone else’s life. Wang Lin exited the profile, rationalizing to herself: “It’s just curiosity.”
The day was uneventful. Later in the evening, Lin Jia finally returned home. The family sat together, enjoying their time.
On the other side of town, since she was on the outskirts of the city, fireworks were allowed. Mu Fan felt nothing as she listened to the sounds of crackling and whistling outside. The sorrows and joys of humans are not interconnected, she thought. She just found it noisy that these people were setting off fireworks despite the government ban.
She had done a thorough cleaning today and was drenched in sweat, but she also felt a sense of being alive.
A new year, a new beginning. Although she said this, Mu Fan was too lazy to make New Year’s Eve dinner. Being alone, there was no need, even though she liked to cook and had inherited some of her mom’s cooking skills.
The outside was noisy, and she wasn’t hungry yet. Mu Fan had nothing to do for a while. Various social media groups were sending red packets. Mu Fan grabbed a few, all worth a few cents, and found it boring. She received many New Year’s blessings, which were undoubtedly mass-sent messages. Mu Fan didn’t mind and replied to each one. Yu Sheng and a few friends messaged, saying a few festive words to each other, but the conversation fizzled out. No matter how mentally strong she was, on this special holiday, she felt a sense of melancholy and loneliness. Scrolling through her phone, she stopped at Wang Lin’s name, paused, and then clicked on it.
She felt a certain closeness to this stranger, Wang Lin. Maybe it was because Wang Lin was likable, or because of her enthusiastic persistence in returning the campus card. She had flipped through Wang Lin’s profile, which had thousands of messy posts. Most were shared funny videos and jokes. The rest were some of her own scattered thoughts and selfies, which were very pretty.
Mu Fan asked, “Have you eaten?”
Wang Lin was feasting when she heard the notification. She thought it was another red packet. She checked and was surprised and a little happy to see it was from Mu Fan.
She replied, “I’m eating now. What about you?”
Then, either to prove she wasn’t lying or to simply share, Wang Lin took a picture of the dinner table and sent it.
Mu Fan looked at the photo of the food—it was lavish and exquisite, and the ingredients were top-notch.
In the kitchen, the kettle was whistling, a reminder that the water for her instant noodles was boiling.
The difference was stark.
She replied, “I’m making it now.”
Wang Lin replied, “Wow, you can cook!”
Mu Fan felt ashamed. She was just making instant noodles. But she could indeed cook, so she said, “Yeah, a little.”
Wang Lin: “That’s so impressive.”
It was just cooking. Mu Fan thought Wang Lin must be a pampered, wealthy young woman.
Wang Lin continued, “I’m not like that. I almost burned down the kitchen when I was little.”
Wang Lin was telling the truth. To this day, she had a psychological aversion to the kitchen.
Mu Fan chuckled, feeling a little more interested. “That’s quite something.”
Wang Lin: “I was just curious when I was a kid. It scared me to death. Luckily, nothing bad happened. I’ll never cook again in this life.”
Mu Fan looked at the crying emoji Wang Lin sent and imagined the scene. It was dangerous indeed.
Wang Lin: “I’m gonna starve to death in the future QAQ.”
Mu Fan: “No big deal, someone else can do it. And if all else fails, there’s always takeout.”
Mu Fan: “I’m going to eat now, too.”
Wang Lin: “Okay, bye-bye.”
Mu Fan made her instant noodles and ate them, then went to bed. As soon as she lay down, her phone rang. There was no name, just a long string of numbers.
“Hello.” She answered the phone.
“Mu Fan, it’s Xi Xi.” A gentle female voice came through the receiver.
Mu Fan’s face immediately changed. She frowned and said with impatience, “Li Xixi?”
The voice on the other end of the line was not angered by her curt tone and remained calm and gentle: “I heard about Auntie’s passing. How are you doing now?”
“What does it matter to you how I’m doing?” The tone was still hard and impatient.
Li Xixi finally fell silent for a moment.
“If you called to say that, you’ve said it. Can I hang up now?” Mu Fan said coldly.
“Yes. My condolences.” After a long silence, Li Xixi on the other end of the phone finally spoke, her voice tinged with a hint of loss, regret, and guilt.
After hanging up, Mu Fan’s mood was ruined. The person who was the source of her tragedy actually called her. What was the meaning of this?
Mu Fan turned off the light but didn’t lie down. She was gasping for air in her anger. She desperately tried to control herself, sitting quietly on the bed in the dark. At night, thoughts are most likely to wander, bringing up many things—good and bad, happy and sad—tormenting people. It would be best to just forget it all.