Unable to Fall in Love Syndrome - Chapter 20

Chapter 20 – Time Speaks 10

The courtyard was filled with the soft chirping of insects. Qiao Shan tossed and turned, her mind tangled with thoughts, unable to sleep.

From downstairs, Qiao Shan could faintly hear Wenwen chatting with the elderly couple, their voices soft and indistinct. She got up to close the window and caught sight of Zuo Yi standing at his window across the way.

What a coincidence—Zuo Yi’s room was directly opposite Qiao Shan’s.

A large banyan tree stood between them, its branches and leaves partially obscuring the view, but she could still make out most of what was happening on his side. For a moment, it felt like their eyes met across the distance.

Qiao Shan pulled out her phone and sent him a WeChat message: “Are you spying on me? Watching me make a fool of myself?”

The man across the way took out his phone, glanced up at her, then typed back: “No, I just want to know the outcome.”

“Outcome? So you are waiting to see me make a fool of myself!” Qiao Shan replied.

“No,” Zuo Yi replied.

“Stingy Zuo, I can’t sleep, and I’m starving,” Qiao Shan added.

Zuo Yi’s gaze pierced through the gaps in the banyan tree’s branches, landing on her. Something in Zuo Yi’s chest twinged—not painful, not itchy, just unfamiliar. He didn’t know what was wrong with him lately; he kept picking fights with Qiao Shan. He wanted to rile Qiao Shan up, but afterward, he’d worry she might stop talking to him for good. Yet, after several rounds, she never did. Her heart seemed big enough to take it. Earlier at the horse ranch, for a fleeting moment, Zuo Yi’s heart had nearly leaped out of his chest, fearing something might happen to Qiao Shan. He was always annoyed by her, so why, at the ranch, did he feel… that way? It was strange.

“Yeah, me too. Want to grab something to eat?” Zuo Yi typed back.

“Can you check if Xiao Jia is still at my door?” Qiao Shan replied. Zuo Yi’s room had a clear view of the corridor outside her door.

“He’s gone back to his room,” Zuo Yi replied. After a deliberate pause, he added, “He went back ten minutes ago. Five minutes ago, Miss Lin went into his room.”

Qiao Shan: !!

“Meet me at the entrance,” Zuo Yi messaged.

Qiao Shan looked up, but Zuo Yi’s figure had already vanished from the window frame. In the next moment, Ying Shengnan appeared, with a toothbrush in his mouth and his hair a mess. He spotted her and waved enthusiastically.

Without hesitation, Qiao Shan slammed the window shut, leaving Ying Shengnan facing a cold windowpane.

Ying Shengnan, rebuffed, huffed and turned back inside, only to see Zuo Yi rummaging through the wardrobe, selecting clothes.

Zuo Yi pulled out a neatly pressed suit, held it up to the mirror, then shook his head, dissatisfied. He grabbed a trendy, patterned hoodie next, held it up, then frowned—it seemed too… casual?

Ying Shengnan spat out his mouthwash and stared at him, exasperated. “You brought a suit for a vacation? Is your brain broken or what?”

Zuo Yi shot him a cold glance, and Ying Shengnan immediately shut up.

After a while, Zuo Yi, still undecided, turned to ask, “Which one’s better?”

Ying Shengnan blinked, confused. “It’s late. Where are you even going?”

“Strolling around,” Zuo Yi said.

Ying Shengnan opened another wardrobe, pulled out a plain hoodie, and tossed it to him. “A suit’s no good for wandering around. Wear this black hoodie—it makes you look younger.” He squatted down, dragged a suitcase from under the bed, and tossed Zuo Yi a baseball cap. “You know Wu Yifan? Super hot celebrity. You’re about his height, and you’re not bad-looking either. Follow his style, and you’ll have no trouble charming the ladies. Looking sharp!”

“…What’s a ‘hot celebrity’?” Zuo Yi asked, as he started to unbutton his shirt to change.

Ying Shengnan stared at Zuo Yi as if he were clueless. “You’re, like, a grandpa or something? You don’t even know what a hot celebrity is?”

Zuo Yi’s gaze turned sharp. “I’m a dragon,” he said, his words clipped.

Ying Shengnan explained, “A ‘hot celebrity’ usually refers to a top-tier guy, aged 12 to 30, like you—” He slapped Zuo Yi’s waist. “Nice slim waist.” Then he patted his chest and hips. “And pecs, toned butt, big—”

Zuo Yi’s glare grew icy, and he snapped, “Be serious!”

Ying Shengnan, scolded, flopped onto the bed, a bit aggrieved. “I am being serious… just stating facts.”

Zuo Yi stared at him, exasperated, wishing he could drag him up and knock some sense into him.  At Ying Shengnan’s age, still so immature—how was Zuo Yi, the younger brother, supposed to handle this?

“You dare say that kind of stuff in front of Second Brother?” Zuo Yi asked coldly.

At the mention of “Second Brother,” Ying Shengnan instantly behaved, yawning. “I’m off to bed. Go have your fun!”

…

*

As Qiao Shan passed Xiao Jia’s room, she paused to listen. It was so quiet inside that not even a whisper could be heard. Heading downstairs, she passed the elderly couple’s room, where the door was half-open. She peeked in to check on Wenwen. Light spilled out, casting a warm glow on the courtyard’s stone path, the moss tinged soft yellow.

The carved window lattice on the first floor was wide open. Qiao Shan walked over and saw Wenwen sitting on a sofa, her little feet soaking in a large basin while the old lady washed them. The little girl giggled, reaching out with her chubby hands to brush aside the silver hair falling over the old lady’s forehead. In her sweet, sticky voice, she asked, “Grandma, when did you start getting white hair? Will Wenwen get white hair too?”

The old lady held Wenwen’s tiny feet, wiping them dry with a towel. “Wenwen’s such a good girl—how could you ever get white hair?”

Wenwen looked up, spotted Qiao Shan outside the window, and called out loudly, “Mama Qiao! Are you going out?”

Qiao Shan nodded through the window. “Yup. Wenwen, are you sleeping with Grandpa and Grandma tonight?”

Wenwen nodded. “Yeah! I want to wake up with little braids tomorrow!”

Wenwen’s innocent sweetness tugged at Qiao Shan’s heart. Wenwen had no father, and her mother was far away across the sea. Yet the little girl never fussed for her parents, always so well-behaved and sensible during calls with her mom.

After her foot bath, Wenwen slipped into her slippers and scampered to the window, leaning out to wave at Qiao Shan. “Mama Qiao, come here! I have a secret to tell you.”

Qiao Shan walked over and bent down.

Wenwen wrapped her arms around Qiao Shan’s head, whispering in her ear, “I’m telling you a secret—Uncle Zuo went out just now. You can ‘bump into’ him on the street, hehe!”

Qiao Shan couldn’t help but laugh and cry at the same time. She ruffled Wenwen’s hair. “Alright, you little mischief. Go to bed.”

Wenwen shook her head, waving eagerly. “Hurry, hurry! If you’re too late, Uncle Zuo will be gone!”

*

Outside the inn, Qiao Shan spotted Zuo Yi, dressed casually, leaning against a stone tablet by the entrance. She walked up and patted his shoulder from behind. “Hey, Stingy Zuo.”

Zuo Yi turned, his face expressionless. “Mm, let’s go.”

They headed toward the food street together. Qiao Shan chattered nonstop, while Zuo Yi remained mostly silent.

The ancient town’s streets, though less lively than during the day, were even more beautiful at night. Strings of red lanterns hung overhead, stretching to the end of the street. The old roads and bridges gave the illusion of stepping back in time.

Qiao Shan stopped at a sugar painting stall, and Zuo Yi followed closely.

She asked the vendor, “I want a dragon. How much?”

“Twenty yuan each,” the vendor replied.

Qiao Shan turned to Zuo Yi. “What design do you want?”

“Don’t need one,” Zuo Yi said.

“Really, you don’t want one?” Qiao Shan pressed.

“Mm,” Zuo Yi replied.

The vendor poured molten sugar onto a stone slab, swiftly shaping it into a dragon, then attached a bamboo stick and handed the finished sugar painting to Qiao Shan.

She held the dragon-shaped sugar painting aloft, the red lantern light filtering through its translucent surface, making it glow golden and tempting. She snapped a photo and posted it on Weibo and her Moments.

Soon after, she spotted a snack stall and shoved the sugar painting into Zuo Yi’s hands. “Hold this for me. I’m getting a bowl of stinky tofu. Want some?”

“No,” Zuo Yi said. The man, calm and composed even in the face of delicious food, exuded a captivating steadiness.

If Qiao Shan hadn’t seen Zuo Yi eat rice noodles before, she might’ve thought he was some ethereal being who didn’t indulge in mortal pleasures.

Qiao Shan ate as she walked, with Zuo Yi trailing behind, holding her sugar painting.

She didn’t look back until they reached the end of the street. Half-full but still craving more, she bought two skewers of grilled squid. Nibbling on the squid, her mouth full, she mumbled, “Didn’t you say you were hungry? How come you haven’t eaten anything this whole time? Is it really okay to act so high and mighty while strolling around?”

The squid was too big, and her mouth was smeared with oil. When she looked up, Zuo Yi’s face was still perfectly composed, watching her quietly. His slender fingers twirled a bare stick with surprising dexterity.

Catching her glance, he froze mid-twirl, then subtly hid the stick behind his back.

Qiao Shan stopped chewing, staring at him. “What’s that in your hand?”

Zuo Yi, unfazed, replied, “A stick.”

Qiao Shan wailed, “Where’s my sugar painting?!”

The girl’s aggrieved expression and teary eyes made Zuo Yi wish he could cough up the sugar painting for her. He cleared his throat to ease the awkwardness. “I’ll buy you another one, okay?”

Furious, Qiao Shan rammed her head into his solid chest.

One headbutt wasn’t enough. Still fuming, she rubbed her oily mouth against his chest, wiping it clean on his shirt.

Zuo Yi frowned, taking a deep breath. “Miss, could your revenge tactics get any worse?”

Qiao Shan huffed, “Sir, doesn’t stealing a lady’s sugar painting deserve some consequences?”

Zuo Yi reached out, cupping the back of her head and pressing it back against his chest. “Go on, keep rubbing. The whole shirt’s yours to wipe your mouth on. Is that punishment enough?”

Qiao Shan’s head was pinned against his chest, his hand firmly holding her in place. She flailed her arms, but no matter how she struggled, she couldn’t break free from his grip.

“Stingy Zuo, let me go!”

“No rush. Take your time rubbing.”

Zuo Yi held her head, looking down at the girl squirming against his chest. Suddenly, he let out a chuckle.