The week before the Easter break, the university campus began to empty out. When students ran into each other, the first question was always when they were leaving for their trip, followed by where they were going and for how long. Jiang Tong had neither the time nor the money, so he resigned himself to attending classes and hunkering down in the lab, preparing for the midterms that would follow the holiday.
During the last major lecture before the break, only a dozen or so students were scattered across the tiered lecture hall. The professor was livid, but eventually gave up and simply filled the blackboard with key exam points as a reward for the few "good students" who had shown up. As Jiang Tong was scribbling furiously, his phone vibrated with a WeChat notification.
It was a message from Xiao Fengtai.
"Taking a leave of absence this week. I won't be in Singapore for Easter."
Jiang Tong finished copying the line of notes before picking up his phone. "Where are you going?"
"London," Xiao Fengtai added earnestly. "Not for fun. Visiting my grandmother."
"Can you send me a postcard?" Jiang Tong followed the text with a laughing emoji. "I’ve never been to the UK."
"Okay," Xiao Fengtai agreed immediately.
The phone went quiet for a moment, then buzzed again. The professor shot a glance at Jiang Tong, who gave an embarrassed smile and quickly moved the phone beneath the desk.
It was another message from Xiao Fengtai: "Rehearsal is so boring."
"Careful, or the conductor will catch you slacking off."
"I never make mistakes," Xiao Fengtai replied with characteristic confidence. "It’s the flute that can’t keep the beat."
Jiang Tong couldn't help but smile, imagining the youth hiding his phone behind a violin rested on his knees, secretly sending complaints over WeChat.
"Something’s up with Teacher Jiang," a classmate sitting nearby whispered, unable to watch any longer. He leaned in and said softly, "I’ve seen you grinning at your phone all the time lately. When are you treating us to dinner to celebrate?"
Jiang Tong coughed dryly. "It’s just a kid from my tutoring gig asking questions. Don't overthink it."
The classmate feigned a look of horror. "Under eighteen is illegal, you know."
"The student in the third row," the professor finally snapped, his patience exhausted. "Your facial expressions while copying the prompts are quite vivid. Would you care to share with the class what you’re discussing with your neighbor?"
The classmate stood up, looking dejected. Jiang Tong stifled a laugh, sat up straight with a solemn expression, and buried his head in his notes.
The classmate’s suspicion wasn't entirely baseless. Jiang Tong was well aware that the frequency of his contact with Xiao Fengtai had surpassed that of a typical part-time tutor and student. Without realizing when it had started, Jiang Tong had grown accustomed to chatting with Xiao Fengtai on WeChat every day. He knew Xiao Fengtai was the concertmaster of his school orchestra, that he had a few friends from prominent families, and that while his father wanted him to apply to Oxbridge, he preferred several Ivy League schools on the American East Coast.
Jiang Tong had also unconsciously opened up his own life to Xiao Fengtai. He sent photos of the lunches he cooked and introduced his lab and the ongoing research projects he was involved in. Xiao Fengtai was quite interested in cancer immunotherapy; Jiang Tong joked that rather than throwing himself into the ivory tower, Xiao Fengtai should focus on developing his family business to provide financial support for frontline scientists. "Sacrifice one man to bless ten thousand laboratories."
*If Xiao Fengtai were a beautiful teenage girl, I might actually lose my resolve,* Jiang Tong thought quite candidly. *But even if Xiao Fengtai is good-looking, we’re both guys—what could possibly happen?*
On the first day of the holiday, Jiang Tong managed a rare sleep-in. He spent the day at home reading literature. Professor Gu’s new paper concerned cutting-edge cell-targeted therapy; Jiang Tong’s theoretical knowledge was thin, so he had to play catch-up to avoid dragging the group down.
He grew drowsy from reading and swiped his phone open to wake himself up. Xiao Fengtai had kept his word; on his first day in the UK, he had taken photos of postcards for Jiang Tong to choose from, and he frequently sent photos and short videos. Jiang Tong joked that while he was stuck in Singapore, he was following in Xiao Fengtai's footsteps through London via WeChat.
Compared to grand, magnificent architecture, Xiao Fengtai preferred capturing the brilliant moments of ordinary life in the streets and alleys. As Jiang Tong was scrolling through the old photos, a new message arrived.
The photo was taken from a second-story perspective. Through the veil of thin curtains, one could faintly see a lawn and towering plane trees. Outside the wrought-iron fence, curious pedestrians occasionally peered inside.
"Staying in this morning to chat with Grandma," Xiao Fengtai explained.
"Focus on accompanying the elderly. Stop playing with your phone."
Xiao Fengtai sent another photo. An elderly woman had her silver hair pulled back into a small bun. She wore a dark silver velvet qipao with no jewelry or ornaments, save for a translucent green jade bracelet on her wrist. If not for her age, she would have looked exactly like a socialite from the Republican era stepped out of a vintage poster.
This "socialite" was currently resting both elbows on a marble dining table, intently watching BBC news on an iPad.
"My grandmother is very trendy," Xiao Fengtai’s text popped up. "She even asked me what social media apps young people are using lately. She wants to invest in internet and tech stocks on the Nasdaq."
Jiang Tong was silent for a moment before replying, "Let me teach you a phrase. When one person admires another immensely, you can say they 'prostrate themselves in admiration.'"
"You're prostrating yourself before my grandmother?"
"Bingo."
"Who was it that said no English allowed?" Xiao Fengtai caught Jiang Tong’s slip-up and naturally wouldn't let it go easily. Jiang Tong replied with a string of ellipses. Just as Xiao Fengtai was about to press his advantage, the phone was suddenly snatched from his hand.
"Who are you chatting with that makes you smile so happily?" A girl looked at him suspiciously, completely baffled because she couldn't read Chinese.
"Stop it." Xiao Fengtai frowned, reaching for the phone, but Tiffany skipped over to the elderly woman in a few steps. "Grandma, can you help me see what’s written here?"
Xiao Fengtai’s grandmother, Mrs. Zhao, had been a somewhat famous socialite in the Nanyang region in her youth. Although she was over seventy, she maintained a positive mindset and kept up with the times. As Tiffany held the phone up to her eyes, she took a casual glance. She wasn't interested in the content, but she began to study the app itself.
"Little Feng, is this WeChat? Come tell me, how is it different from WhatsApp or Line?"
Tiffany stamped her foot in frustration. "Grandma! Is Cousin dating someone behind my back?"
She was in the prime of her youth, at her most charming and lovely. The baby fat hadn't yet left her cheeks, and her skin was so tender it looked like it could produce water if pinched. She had two willow-leaf brows and apricot eyes that slanted slightly upward. Her red lips were full and currently pouted in a huff. Between her glances, there was a certain kind of innocent sexiness.
Mrs. Zhao said dismissively, "What does your cousin dating have to do with me? Little Feng, do you know what the daily active users for WeChat are right now?"
Xiao Fengtai stepped forward calmly, took his phone back, and began demonstrating the app's functions. Mrs. Zhao watched intently, clicking her tongue in wonder from time to time.
Tiffany, effectively excluded from the conversation, turned red with frustration. "Cousin is a bully!"
"When we were in school, the most important thing for a lady was to be quiet and elegant. Acting like this will ruin your reputation," Mrs. Zhao said coolly. "Your parents might spoil you, but I won't indulge your bad habits."
Tiffany called Xiao Fengtai "Cousin" in name, but their actual blood relation was so thin it was almost non-existent. She had lived in Singapore for a few years and had cried and screamed when it was time to return to London, refusing to leave and insisting on staying with the Xiao family as "Cousin's child bride." Now that Xiao Fengtai was visiting the UK, Tiffany naturally wouldn't miss the chance; she spent all day finding excuses to stick to him like a little tail.
Though she was full of affection for Xiao Fengtai, she was, after all, a young lady raised in the palm of her parents' hands. She couldn't bear the old lady’s blunt criticism. Instantly flushed with shame, she stamped her foot and ran out of the room.
The voice of the BBC anchor continued in the background. The grandmother and grandson looked at each other and, in unison, burst into laughter.
"You were too strict with Tiffany," Xiao Fengtai said gently. "She’s going to go back and complain to Auntie."
Mrs. Zhao looked disdainful. "At my age, do I still fear her mother’s nagging?"
"In the end, it was all to provide cover for you." She gave a sly smile. "Why don't you show Grandma a photo of the girl?"
Xiao Fengtai was stunned. "What photo?"
"Your girlfriend—you’ve been glued to your phone since you arrived in London, either taking pictures or sending messages. You’re contacting a girlfriend, aren't you?"
"Grandma is very open-minded. It’s perfectly normal to date at your age. Quick, let me see. Which family’s daughter is she?"
