TPIL - 45

The first birthday Qi Xiaochuan celebrated after entering high school, Luo Andi prepared a birthday party for him. Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—he had somehow foreseen it. In reality, it was the gardener who happened to see them setting up while trimming the pine trees on a ladder and later mentioned it to him. Regardless, Qi Xiaochuan knocked on Luo Andi’s bedroom door in the middle of the night, bluntly refusing her plans, which made him seem almost self-conscious since the surprise party was still supposed to be a secret.

In the end, the party was canceled, but the birthday gift arrived as scheduled.

Qi Xiaochuan opened it to find a videotape. He located a player and started watching—it contained footage from Luo Andi’s eleventh birthday party.

She was wearing a crown, not the cheap foil-paper crown that came with store-bought cakes, but a real amethyst-studded tiara. Surrounded by everyone, she blew out the candles.

In contrast, as her twin brother, Luo Chuishun, who shared the same birthday, rarely appeared on camera because he was busy entertaining guests. Many of the attendees were business partners of Luo’s father. From a young age, he bore the responsibility of being the son of the Luo family. Meanwhile, the daughter, accompanied by her mother, smiled gently from the sidelines, nodding politely to greet guests.

What did this mean?

Qi Xiaochuan’s most logical deduction was that she was showing off. But given that it was Luo Andi, such an interpretation felt absurd.

He wasn’t skilled at guessing others’ thoughts, nor was he particularly interested. Instead, he turned around and asked her directly. She simply smiled and replied, “So you can feel what it’s like when I’m happy.”

Qi Xiaochuan remained expressionless, glanced briefly at the tape again, then muttered a line no one expected: “…Always telling lies.”

“…”

“What kind of happiness is this?” He tossed the tape back to her and walked away.

Luo Andi checked the utilities, picked up her handbag, locked the door, and turned around. Qi Xiaochuan was waiting under the streetlamp, head bowed, as if checking the ground for loose change.

Hearing footsteps, he finally looked up. She gazed at him with sparkling eyes, silently reaching out and gently wiping away the trace of lipstick from the corner of his mouth. Qi Xiaochuan didn’t flinch, just stared deeply into her eyes until Luo Andi withdrew her hand, flicking her fingers stained with glittery lipstick and smiling. “I accidentally smudged it earlier,” she said.

Her tone suggested it was unintentional, but in truth, it was inevitable.

It would have been strange if it hadn’t happened.

Night had fallen deeply. Luo Andi was about to head back home, and Qi Xiaochuan called his driver to bring the car over. While waiting, she suddenly remembered to ask why he was here.

“I was discussing work with your boss until closing time. She said she’d step out to take a call…” Who knew that woman—who often took it upon herself to play matchmaker between employees and customers—would deceive him? Qi Xiaochuan, accustomed to making use of every minute, had been scrolling through work emails on his phone in the dark, completely unaware of how late it had gotten. Similarly, Luo Andi had been lured over unknowingly. With the lights off, the scene resembled something out of Interview with the Vampire .

“Can we stop by a convenience store to grab something to eat?” Luo Andi rubbed her hands together and smiled at him. “I didn’t eat enough for dinner.”

Qi Xiaochuan nodded and took the lead. Seeing she didn’t react, he extended his hand.

After a moment of hesitation, she smiled cautiously and placed her hand in his. His hand was warm, starkly different from his cold, unapproachable face. Qi Xiaochuan tucked Luo Andi’s hand into the pocket of his coat.

The driver dropped them off at Luo Andi’s soon-to-expire rental apartment—not for any other reason than for the sake of Alexander McQueen, the silly cat. The feline immediately rubbed against Qi Xiaochuan, oblivious to his “don’t bother me” expression, truly lacking any sense of propriety. Luo Andi, however, smiled brightly and arranged the sofa and her modest sponge mattress separately.

With his arms crossed, Qi Xiaochuan said, “I can sleep on the floor.”

“That won’t do—you’ll catch a cold,” Luo Andi frowned.

He said nothing.

Not just the floor—underpasses, train stations, subway tunnels—he could survive anywhere. She knew this well, yet in her eyes, he was always someone worth her care and affection. Even if it was merely a habit of hers.

Qi Xiaochuan had already washed up after working overtime at the company and was utterly exhausted. After hastily climbing into bed, he was moments away from falling asleep. But then he heard rustling footsteps. Luo Andi dragged her sponge mattress, disregarding the noise, to the other side of the living room. She lay down, her wavy hair spilling across the pillow.

“Little Xiao,” she called to him.

“What is it?” Despite being on the verge of sleep, he forced himself to respond.

She said, “Tell me about these years of your life.”

He suppressed the urge to ask her the same question. Qi Xiaochuan’s past few years had been bland and uneventful, revolving solely around making money. He casually mentioned a few things, and Luo Andi occasionally chimed in. For instance, when he mentioned university, she sighed, “You’re not the club president anymore?” Unexpectedly, he asked, “Do you wish I were?” She shyly replied, “It just seemed cool.” When he brought up women’s clothing, she hesitated, “I think I’ve heard of it,” but he unromantically dashed her hopes, saying, “Don’t get your hopes up—it wasn’t a brand back then. It’s normal not to know.”

He was extremely tired, and his daily routine, combined with work and handling various issues, had drained most of his energy. Eventually, he drifted off without realizing it.

She said, “Little Xiao?”

Qi Xiaochuan didn’t respond. Luo Andi sat up from her sponge mattress, stood slowly, and walked over. In the dim light, his face was tinged with exhaustion and guardedness. She reached out and gently moved the cat resting on his chest.

By morning, they ate breakfast together. Although Qi Xiaochuan didn’t mind accompanying her partway to work, it was unfortunate that Luo Andi had the day off, so they parted ways at the door.

“I’ll move back to your place later,” Luo Andi said while eating the steamed dumplings Qi Xiaochuan had bought.

Qi Xiaochuan contacted his secretary to send his formal attire to the dry cleaner, then nodded absentmindedly. “I’ve booked a knitting class for the weekend.”

She saw him off at the door and suddenly requested, “Can we keep our relationship a secret from the people at the store for now?”

For a fleeting moment, he wondered what about him was so shameful. But she quickly explained, “Most of the customers know me, and I’ve just become the store manager. I really don’t want to cause any controversy over unrelated matters.”

Was there anything unsolvable? If Luo Andi wished for it, then there wasn’t. Qi Xiaochuan confidently replied, “Alright.”

He was supposed to head downstairs but turned back unexpectedly. She hadn’t closed the door yet, bending down to scoop cat food. Qi Xiaochuan watched silently for a moment, risking being late as he hesitated whether or not to apologize. “Um… if one day you realize you’ve met someone you truly like, tell me anytime.”

Luo Andi gazed at him, smiling but silent. She said, “Little Xiao.”

She brushed the hem of his shirt and remarked, “There’s cat hair stuck to it.”

At the company building, he encountered Zhong Shiwei. Honestly speaking, both of them agreed it was unlucky to see each other so early in the morning. Zhong Shiwei was there for the second round of interviews. At the sight of such a person advancing to the second round, Qi Xiaochuan’s hand holding the car keys trembled slightly, nearly negating all the efforts he and the company’s employees had made over the years.

They stood chatting at the end of the corridor.

To be precise, Qi Xiaochuan only stood there because he wanted to, while Zhong Shiwei inexplicably joined him, utterly lacking self-awareness.

Zhong Shiwei said, “Let me tell you, I got another tattoo recently…”

Qi Xiaochuan said, “Don’t tell me.”

Zhong Shiwei said, “The U.S. president has changed to that guy… do you know?”

Qi Xiaochuan said, “I don’t know.”

Without mercy, Qi Xiaochuan told him, “Take the fire escape. I won’t see you out.”

Zhong Shiwei glared at him spitefully and headed for the elevator. “Fine. I’ll leave. I originally wanted to tell you about Luo Andi…”

“What about her?” He blocked the elevator button before Zhong Shiwei could press it.

Zhong Shiwei found teasing him endlessly amusing and deliberately added, “Hmm… what do you want to know? How many boyfriends did she have in college?”

“No,” unexpectedly, Qi Xiaochuan calmly and plainly replied, “I only want to know if anyone ever hurt her.”

The past was the past.

Though spoken, he alone refused to let anyone who caused her pain escape punishment.

As Zhong Shiwei left, he couldn’t help but remark, “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Qi Xiaochuan responded undisturbed, “My first two friends died.”

“…” Zhong Shiwei eyed him suspiciously but eventually said, “But doesn’t your secretary count?”

Mr. Yi Weihao, who was stressing over overtime and practiced Tai Chi as a hobby, sneezed violently. The retired philosophy professor also sneezed.

During her first week as store manager, Luo Andi’s work wasn’t entirely smooth sailing, but she managed to pass muster. Looking ahead, she hoped things would improve gradually.

When Qi Xiaochuan came to the store, she was busy. He deliberately circled twice, meeting her gaze from afar. Luo Andi smiled faintly, and he gave a slight nod before heading to his seat. The knitting class was the same as before, allowing participants to choose their own handicrafts. Learning from his previous attempt at making a cat bed, he opted for something simple this time—a standard woolen hat.

The promotional class had paid off, as there were many new students. A staff member proactively suggested sharing promotional materials with him. Not wanting to inconvenience Luo Andi, he didn’t refuse. Young women cast admiring glances his way, but Qi Xiaochuan kept his focus solely on the yarn.

Yarn, yarn, yarn.

Having mastered the basics, he began weaving under the teacher’s guidance. The nearby housewives were the same group from his first visit, familiar faces by now.

The women naturally chatted animatedly about work, family, and hobbies. But he stayed out of it, neither joining nor intending to. They talked enthusiastically, their voices lively. Meanwhile, Qi Xiaochuan continued weaving, moving methodically in circles, pulling, repeating, and remaining silent. He seemed to have turned into a zombie.

Until Luo Andi approached, her ever-present smile in place, asking, “How’s it going?”

“Miss Luo, you’re here,” an older customer greeted her.

Another said, “I don’t know what to do—I accidentally made a hole.”

The newcomers observed quietly, refraining from interrupting.

Luo Andi took the unfinished piece, unraveled it neatly, and skillfully redid it. For the first time that day, Qi Xiaochuan stopped his movements, focusing solely on watching her.

The teacher became busy, while the students relaxed. The middle-aged housewife, old enough to be his mother, casually struck up a conversation. “Do you have a girlfriend? You always come alone. Let me introduce you to someone—a Harvard Ph.D. graduate, very refined, impossible to find such a great girl. Would you consider meeting her?”

The knitting needles moved incessantly, stitching row after row. Luo Andi continued weaving, showing no signs of disturbance.

Qi Xiaochuan felt his throat tighten, struggling to speak, but soon recovered, relying on instinct to reply. “No need,” he said, “I already have a girlfriend. You don’t know her. She’s beautiful, smart, and better than anyone else.”

“…”

Subtle expressions of regret and strange gazes fell simultaneously.

“If I were to cheat,” he said matter-of-factly, “they might stab me to death with a needle.”