Wang Luxi: [What? That’s not a good idea, is it?]
Wang Luxi: [Do you really buy souvenirs online?]
She waited for Yuan Bei’s reply, her heart pounding. She had been too impulsive just now, speaking without thinking. The question she’d asked Yuan Bei could easily be misinterpreted.
Fortunately, Yuan Bei hadn’t seen it.
…Or had he really not seen it?!
Yuan Bei: [Do whatever you want. It’s all the same stuff anyway.]
Ugh.
Yuan Bei: [Going to sleep.]
Huh?
Wang Luxi still wanted to ask what specific items she should buy. She had already researched recommendations online—things like Daoxiangcun pastries and Yueshengzhai braised beef… She could mail these delicious treats to her parents, but for classmates and friends, she wanted to send something fresh, trendy, and meaningful.
Wang Luxi: [Why so early! Aren’t you normally on a reversed schedule?]
Yuan Bei: [Because my schedule is reversed, I need to fix it.]
Yuan Bei: [Seriously, I’m going to sleep now.]
He didn’t wait for her reply.
He turned off the light, put his phone on silent, and set it aside.
In the darkness, two fluffy shadows leaped onto the bed, settling on opposite corners, their eyes bright and their gazes intense.
Yuan Bei stared back at the two cats: “What are you looking at? You two should sleep too.”
–
Adjusting one’s biological clock takes time.
Yuan Bei went to bed early that night, but his sleep was light. He woke up several times throughout the night. When the first light of dawn seeped through the curtains, he was fully awake and couldn’t fall back asleep.
He decided to get up, took a shower, and went downstairs for breakfast.
Passing by a glass wall, he noticed his hair was getting a bit long, so he waited for a hair salon to open and got a haircut.
After all that, it still wasn’t noon.
While getting his haircut, his phone kept ringing with unread messages.
Yuan Bei went through them one by one.
The busiest thread was a group chat.
After resigning from the company, he had left the main company group chat, but the small group with a few colleagues from his department remained active. Someone had tagged Yuan Bei, saying tomorrow was Saturday and inviting him out for dinner and karaoke.
As the department’s go-to person, Yuan Bei seemed to always fill the gaps.
If there was an urgent bug, he’d be the first one called to fix it. If no one wanted to sign up for a training project, they’d find him to make up the numbers. Even when the administrative staff needed someone good-looking for the company’s New Year video, they would quietly find Yuan Bei, bring him a coffee, and ask him to record a short segment.
Being pleasant to look at was one thing, but mainly, Yuan Bei had a good temperament, something anyone who knew him even slightly would recognize.
Simply put, he was laid-back. No one had ever seen him lose his temper over anything, nor did he maintain particularly close relationships with anyone. He was just that kind of person, detached, unconcerned about most things, with an air of indifference about him.
Whoever asked for his help rarely left empty-handed. If someone took advantage of him a little, he never held grudges or made them feel uncomfortable.
Such people generally have good relationships with others. He was always the top choice when they needed a fourth player for mahjong.
Yuan Bei replied in the group: [Sure.]
…
Next were messages from the study abroad agency, requesting some documents.
Yuan Bei went home, opened his computer, and sent the materials.
Checking his phone again, he noticed Wang Luxi’s chat also had unread messages, stopping at the goodnight she had sent after he put his phone on silent last night.
This morning had been quiet from her.
Yuan Bei glanced at the time, thinking about opening the travel agency’s itinerary to check today’s original schedule, but as the thought came, he quickly dismissed it.
Something itched against his leg.
A cat was wandering past under the table, its tail brushing against his calf.
Yuan Bei got up, took two cans of cat food from the cabinet, opened them, and placed them on the floor. Watching the two cats eat, he zoned out for a while, then idly opened his social media feed.
Today, yesterday, and the day before—in the less than 72 hours since he’d met Wang Luxi, his feed had been dominated by her posts, updating at a frequency comparable to advertising spam. This young woman seemed to have unlimited energy and enthusiasm.
She took photos at attractions, took photos of her food, and even managed to compile a nine-grid collage of the same sunset at different heights, captioning it: “Witnessed a complete sunset. Good work, see you tomorrow.”
…She was talking to the sun.
What was so great about a sunset?
To be more dramatic, Yuan Bei thought Beijing was fundamentally the most boring city.
Not extremely cold, not extremely hot, just endless dust and poplar fluff. No tall buildings inside the Second Ring, few late-night eateries. Just a handful of shopping malls scattered about, each forming its own commercial area without disturbing the others. As for attractions, they all looked the same after a while: square red walls, rows of gray-green bricks. He certainly hadn’t found any hutong that stood out; they were all the same, welcoming visitors from near and far.
Some people were born here, some died here. Some cursed its coldness yet had to come and prostrate themselves before it. Others had ropes tied to their feet, wanting to run but unable to escape.
Everything operated with a stable yet rigid order.
It would never open compassionate eyes to pause for anyone.
This was Beijing through Yuan Bei’s eyes.
If described in color, it would be a dull gray, like the Beijing Amusement Park his grandparents took him to as a child, now long closed and dismantled. In his memory, those huge inflatable castles and amusement facilities were covered with a layer of speckled noise, like a surrealist dreamscape.
But what about Wang Luxi?
The same city in her social media was as lively as a Spring Festival Gala, bursting with colorful flowers and festive sounds. It was as if the color levels had changed under a different filter.
Yuan Bei casually scrolled through a couple of posts and gave a random like.
Within half a minute, a message notification popped up.
Wang Luxi: [You’re awake!]
Wang Luxi: [You’re finally awake! Good afternoon! I was afraid you were still sleeping, so I didn’t dare message you!]
Yuan Bei didn’t know what had come over him, but seeing those exclamation marks bouncing after every few words didn’t feel jarring or annoying. Instead, the corner of his mouth involuntarily twitched upward.
Yuan Bei: [I told you, I silence my phone when I sleep. It’s fine.]
Wang Luxi: [Ah, I was worried about being impolite.]
Wang Luxi: [Guess where I am?]
Yuan Bei: [The Forbidden City.]
Immediately after came a string of exclamation marks from Wang Luxi: [How did you know!!!]
Then, a moment of realization: [Oh, you saw my social media posts.]
In just one morning, her feed was filled with countless videos and photos, packed with crowds of people and vibrant colors, like an overcrowded jar of colored sand.
Wang Luxi: [Not exaggerating, there must be a hundred million people at the Forbidden City today.]
Yuan Bei: [Every day.]
Wang Luxi replied with a melting-from-heat emoji: [I’m leaving now, going to eat, then heading to the National Museum this afternoon.]
She voluntarily shared her upcoming itinerary.
In terms of social etiquette, this usually signaled the polite conclusion of a casual conversation.
Yuan Bei had originally intended to say “okay.”
That would have been the end of it.
But.
Wang Luxi: [Have you adjusted your sleep schedule? You’re not going to nap this afternoon, are you?]
Yuan Bei, who had been about to get up from his desk, sat back down at this: [Why?]
Wang Luxi: [Emmmm, no reason.]
She typed: [Can I still talk to you this afternoon?]
–
After learning that the travel agency had scheduled a visit to the National Museum, Wang Luxi had started doing her homework.
She wasn’t normally one to make detailed plans, but everyone online said the National Museum was different; it would punish anyone who came unprepared. With nearly 200,000 square meters of total building area, it was impressive by that measure alone. Housing over a million artifacts across numerous exhibition halls, just seeing the basic displays would take several days, not to mention the special and temporary exhibitions.
Wang Luxi only had one afternoon, so she had identified specific must-see artifacts to photograph, not wanting to waste time. With clear targets, she could go straight for them, ensuring she wouldn’t miss out.
The reality, however, was that she wasn’t the only one with this idea. Naturally, the more famous pieces attracted more visitors.
Wang Luxi had to exert considerable effort just to reach the display case.
Behind the elegant glass was the Square Cauldron with Four Rams, that precious artifact that occupied an entire page in history textbooks. She also noticed children throughout the museum holding history books, probably on summer educational tours, pointing at images in their books and comparing them with the real objects.
Honestly, Wang Luxi felt a bit envious.
She hadn’t had that kind of childhood.
Wang Luxi: [Have you been to the National Museum before?]
Yuan Bei: [No.]
Wang Luxi: [No?]
Yuan Bei: [No.]
Let alone museums.
Upon careful reflection, Yuan Bei realized that besides areas necessary for daily life and work, he hadn’t visited many places in Beijing, even the Great Wall.
There seemed no particular need to deliberately tour these places.
Wang Luxi didn’t understand: [How is that possible? All these years? You’ve never been?]
Yuan Bei: [Not interested.]
Wang Luxi: [How can you say you’re not interested if you’ve never been?]
Yuan Bei: [……]
Wang Luxi’s sharp assessment: [You really are a low-maintenance person.]
Low-maintenance.
Yuan Bei laughed.
Because he thought Wang Luxi was right.
Beijing was vast, with many fascinating things, but what did they have to do with him? After all, life’s basic needs were easily satisfied. Despite the sprawling steel jungle of the city and its web-like transportation network, his actual intersection with it was limited to a small neighborhood, a narrow road, and a home where he could sleep soundly.
He even thought Wang Luxi’s wording was too literary, not cutting enough.
If he were to describe himself, he would say, “Yuan Bei, you’re truly a boring person.”
Wang Luxi: [Yuan Bei, you lack the eyes to discover beauty.]
Wang Luxi: [I’ll give you a chance.]
She took photos of two refrigerator magnets she was holding and sent them to him.
Wang Luxi: [Critique these—which one looks better? Which one should I buy?]
Without waiting for Yuan Bei’s reply, Wang Luxi: [And don’t say things like “they’re both ordinary,” “they’re both ugly,” “whatever,” or “either is fine.”]
She added a threatening emoji.
…Yuan Bei silently deleted the text he’d already typed.
Wang Luxi: [Should I bring you a souvenir? The creative products store is so crowded, I barely managed to squeeze in.]
Yuan Bei: [No need, thank you.]
Wang Luxi: [Alright then.]
Wang Luxi: [T_T Actually, I couldn’t buy the one I wanted most; it was sold out.]
The creative designs at the National Museum were all exquisite. Recently, the Nine-Dragon Nine-Phoenix Crown of Empress Xiaoduan from the Ming Dynasty had gone viral online, drawing many visitors. Made with kingfisher feather inlay, it was luxurious and splendid. Inspired by this, the museum had released a blue phoenix plush charm; a fluffy, round little bird that was perfect for squishing and made sounds when shaken.
This “Phoenix Chirp” was the first item on Wang Luxi’s National Museum shopping list, but she’d just been informed by staff that it was too popular and had sold out.
Wang Luxi: [My luck isn’t very good today.]
Yuan Bei: [How specifically?]
Wang Luxi: [Missed out on the creative product, couldn’t buy that old Beijing yogurt I wanted this morning, and yesterday the hotel arranged by the travel agency was just okay—the air conditioner made strange noises that woke me up several times.]
The resting area of the National Museum was overcrowded, with people sitting in corridors and on stairs. Wang Luxi came out of the creative products section and spotted an empty seat on a distant staircase. She grabbed her bag and rushed over, but someone beat her to it by a few steps.
She shrugged: [As I said, luck.]
Then she could only squat by the wall to message Yuan Bei.
Wang Luxi: [When are you free? Let’s meet up.]
Wang Luxi: [I still have that Polaroid photo with me. I should give it to you.]
Yuan Bei: [No need.]
No need?
Wang Luxi: [Then where do you live? Give me an address, and I’ll mail it to you.]
Yuan Bei didn’t respond.
…This brief silence was magnified by Wang Luxi.
Thinking back to previous conversations with Yuan Bei, whenever the topic turned to him personally, he seemed to be quite secretive.
It wasn’t exactly disappointing. It just suddenly felt… uninteresting.
She waited a bit longer.
Wang Luxi: [Fine then.]
Wang Luxi: [If you don’t want to give details, just tell me a nearby package locker. You can pick it up yourself. That should work, right?]
…
Still silence.
…There were too many people; even under the air conditioning, it felt hot. Wang Luxi held a small folding fan she’d just bought at the museum shop, but waving it didn’t seem to help much.
Her heart felt a bit irritated.
For a moment, she began to self-reflect—had she been overly enthusiastic?
Perhaps, at first meeting, not everyone wants to make friends. If maintaining distance is a necessary skill in the adult world, a weapon of self-protection, then Yuan Bei’s weapon was already sharp, but hers had yet to be honed.
…
Wang Luxi couldn’t wait any longer. She was a bit thirsty, so she stood up and walked toward a vending machine.
Even the vending machines had lines.
All the drinks and mineral water in the machine were sold out. An employee was opening the glass door to restock.
People scattered to find other machines, but Wang Luxi didn’t move. She stood in front of the vending machine thinking that this time she was at least slightly lucky—she was now first in line, and soon there would be many drink options available.
The employee closed the door, locked the machine, and signaled to Wang Luxi that she could make her purchase.
She stepped forward, pressed a button, and scanned the QR code to pay.
When the mineral water dropped down, there was a heavy, muffled sound that happened to cover up the message notification on her phone.
Yuan Bei: [Where are you now? Still at the National Museum?]
Wang Luxi paused in surprise, tucked the water bottle under her arm, and typed: [Yes.]
Yuan Bei: [When do you finish?]
Wang Luxi: [It’s still early. The museum closes soon, then we go eat.]
Wang Luxi: [What’s up?]
She unscrewed the bottle and took a sip.
Because it had just been put in the machine, it wasn’t cold. The taste was lukewarm, unsatisfying. But the reply from the other side was perfect, like ice quenching her thirst, instantly refreshing her—
Yuan Bei: [Where are you staying tonight? Address.]
Yuan Bei: [Didn’t you want to meet up?]