Little Fish and Mint - Chapter 22
Yu Ge took out a box of mints.
He opened it and shook one out, but didn’t eat it.
He sat alone in his car, half his face hidden in shadow.
Scooters and pedestrians passed by. He watched a mother and son closing up their stall at a nearby intersection.
The elderly woman walked behind her son, shining a flashlight on the road, a small pool of light in the darkness.
He watched them walk away, then thought about the phone call.
From his biological mother.
As expected, her voice had been filled with pain, like every other time.
Perhaps pain was contagious. But Yu Ge was immune, or perhaps simply indifferent. Her tears no longer affected him; he felt nothing.
After Xu Yitong left, a fleeting thought crossed his mind. Had she been unusually quiet during the drive?
It seemed so. A strange, subtle feeling settled over him, something he couldn’t quite decipher.
He popped a mint into his mouth, the cool flavor spreading across his tongue.
The Bluetooth was still connected, the song playing on repeat. He knew she hadn’t gone far.
It didn’t matter. He didn’t ask.
A sudden pain shot through his wrist, a wave of fatigue washing over him.
Perhaps that was why he hadn’t left either.
…
After sending the two messages, he waited.
The music stopped.
He leaned back, staring at the car’s display, lost in thought.
After about ten minutes, a soft tapping sound startled him.
Someone was knocking on his window.
He rolled down the window, a wave of hot, humid air rushing in. He looked at the person outside.
Xu Yitong leaned down, resting her arms on the windowsill, a bright smile on her face.
The street was dark, but a streetlight behind her suddenly illuminated her, the light spilling into the car, casting a warm glow around him.
He blinked, momentarily blinded.
“Waiting for me?” she asked, still smiling as she studied him.
“No.”
“Really?” she didn’t believe him. “Then why haven’t you left?”
She leaned closer, her face inches from his, staring at him intently.
He seemed momentarily distracted. She waved a hand in front of his face. He blinked, looking away. “My hand hurts. Taking a break.”
“Oh,” her smile faltered. “Do you need to call a taxi?”
“It’s not that bad.”
She considered this for a moment. “I’ll keep you company!” she declared, then, before he could protest, hurried around to the other side of the car and got in.
“Air conditioning is the best,” she sighed, wiping her forehead. “It’s so hot out there.”
He rolled up the window.
She aimed the air vent at her face, sighing contentedly as the cool air hit her skin. She turned to look at him, knowing he’d been watching her since she got in.
“I thought you weren’t afraid of the heat,” he said.
She sat up straight, not the least bit embarrassed by her lie. “I was kidding. So?”
“Oh.” He didn’t press the issue.
“You’re so gullible! Everyone’s afraid of the heat! You believe everything I say!” she said, grinning.
“I’m not afraid of the heat.”
“What?! Really?” she asked, surprised.
“Mm.”
She looked at him, unsure. “Do you even use your AC at night?”
“No.”
“Are you… naturally cold-blooded?” she wondered.
“You’re probably deficient in yang energy, with excess dampness. Needs some traditional Chinese medicine,” she said seriously, analyzing his symptoms.
“Have you seen a TCM doctor?”
“No.”
“I know a good one. I can recommend him.”
“No, thanks.”
“Why not?” She wanted to convince him.
“I was kidding.”
She stared at him, confused.
He looked at her, a slight smile playing on his lips. “You believe everything I say?”
Xu Yitong: “…”
Such a familiar, teasing tone.
She glared at him, a mix of annoyance and embarrassment. Was this the first time he’d teased her? He was kind of… mean.
“I’d believe anything you said.” she mumbled, glancing at him. “So you better not lie to me.”
He paused, caught off guard, forgetting to look away.
Their eyes met for a long moment, then they both looked away, pretending to be interested in something else.
Silence fell between them.
As midnight approached, the bustling city quieted down. A few stray motorcyclists roared past, then silence returned.
Yu Ge, staring at a plane tree outside his window, thought he should probably leave.
“Why didn’t you leave?” she asked casually.
“Huh?”
She swallowed, then asked hesitantly, “You seemed… upset earlier.”
“I was fine,” he said, his tone even.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Not lying this time,” he paused.
Her heart suddenly started racing. She fidgeted with the seatbelt buckle. “Is your hand still hurting?”
He considered this. “A little.”
“Actually…” she hesitated.
“What?” he prompted.
“I’m… pretty good at massages,” she said.
Yu Ge: “…”
“If your hand hurts, I can give you a massage. Free of charge,” she added quickly, worried he wouldn’t believe her.
“My grandpa loves my massages. He always asks me to give him one when I visit. I don’t do it for anyone else.”
He remained silent.
“Want to try?” she asked, a little shyly.
He didn’t move.
Then, after a moment, he offered her his right hand.
Xu Yitong froze, slightly dazed.
As he seemed about to withdraw his hand, she quickly grabbed it.
His hand was cool to the touch.
“Ten yuan massage, or fifty yuan massage?” she asked, grinning.
He chose the cheaper option.
“Okay” she said seriously, rubbing her hands together, then blowing on them to warm them up. She examined his hand, wondering where to start.
His wrist seemed slightly deformed, the bone protruding. But his hands were… beautiful. Long, slender fingers, strong and masculine.
He watched her silently.
She took a deep breath, assuming a professional air, and started massaging his wrist, working her way down to his fingertips. “First, we need to get the bl00d flowing.”
She pressed and kneaded, then looked up. “Feeling anything?”
“A little,” he said politely.
“Good,” she said seriously, then continued, carefully massaging each finger, the spaces between them, the top and sides, then his palm.
She grew more focused, her touch gentle yet firm.
His skin tingled slightly. He flexed his other hand.
The warmth of her touch, so direct and unguarded, made him feel strangely uncomfortable.
He reached for his water bottle, opening it with one hand, and took a long drink.
After a few minutes, she started stretching his fingers, gently pulling and cracking each joint.
Yu Ge: “…”
She repeated the process for each finger, thoroughly professional.
“Better?” she asked, releasing his hand.
He didn’t reply immediately.
She reached for his hand again. “Let me do it again…”
“It’s fine,” he said, stopping her.
“Okay…” she said, a little disappointed.
“Who taught you?” he asked after a moment.
She didn’t answer.
“That TCM doctor?” he guessed, his tone uncertain.
“No…” she said, avoiding his gaze. “Don’t be mad.”
He sighed almost imperceptibly. “Just tell me.”
“I learned it… at the foot massage place downstairs,” she admitted sheepishly.
He froze.
“Is my technique… not professional enough?” she asked.
“It’s fine,” he replied calmly.
She blinked, then offered eagerly, “I can do it again next time!”
He paused, speechless.
They sat in silence for a moment, then she suddenly smiled.
He wasn’t expressive, always aloof, but she could tell he was in a good mood.
…
Time with Yu Ge was precious, and always passed too quickly. Reluctant to leave, but knowing it was late, she sighed. “You should go. It’s not safe to drive so late.”
She made no move to get out of the car.
He waited, then said politely, “Goodbye.”
Her carefully constructed facade of composure nearly crumbled.
Fine, play it cool.
“Two of the streetlights by my apartment are out. I’m a bit scared of the dark… Could you… walk me home…?” she asked, then added quickly, “Since I gave you a massage…”
He turned off the engine. “Let’s go.”
As he walked her to her building, she turned to him. “Could you wait here for a few minutes? I have something for you.”
His lips moved, about to refuse.
“It’s nothing expensive. Just wait here. I’ll be right back,” she interrupted, running off before he could reply.
He watched her go.
A few minutes later, she hurried back, carrying a large bag, slightly breathless from running.
Waiting for the elevator, she wondered if he’d actually waited. He was so aloof… He’d rejected her gifts every other time…
She saw him in the distance, still waiting, his posture unchanged.
Relieved, she slowed her pace.
As he watched her approach, she said, “These are the cookies I bought for you before.”
She looked at him nervously. “I tried to give them to you a while ago, but you didn’t want them.”
He didn’t reach for the bag, his handsome face impassive.
Used to his indifference, she didn’t feel as embarrassed this time. A mosquito buzzed around her legs, but she ignored it.
She wasn’t sure what to do. He hadn’t accepted the cookies, but he hadn’t refused them either.
They stood in silence.
He hadn’t asked for or accepted anything from anyone in a long time.
Because of his profession and appearance, he’d been the target of much unwanted attention, much of it based on superficial fantasies. He didn’t mind, or care.
He considered his options.
Perhaps he should maintain his distance, as he’d done before.
But…
He could still feel the warmth of her touch on his hand.
He suddenly wanted to ask her a stupid question.
To confirm something.
—Did she like him?