Chapter 60: The Trip

Driving to the neighboring city to see the sea would take three hours.

Wang Jiexiang packed a bunch of snacks and filled a huge suitcase with luggage for the trip.

Yin Xian was helpless: “We’re only going for four days, but you’ve packed like we’re leaving for two years.”

“Better to be overprepared than under!” She tore open a snack and shoved a chip into his mouth.

After eating the chip, Yin Xian didn’t say anything more and helped her load the suitcase into the car.

“Put on another jacket, it’ll be cold outside.”

Wang Jiexiang giggled. “I’m not afraid of the cold.”

It was November, nearly winter.

As they drove down the road, the roadside trees were mostly bare, and the cold wind stripped off a few more leaves.

Yin Xian drove while Wang Jiexiang, from the moment she got in the car, didn’t stop talking.

She ate, fed him snacks, talked about the fun places and delicious food she’d read about in that city, and told stories from work.

The car was filled with her chattering.

He could tell she was in an especially good mood today, as giddy as a kid going on a school trip.

“You eat. I’m done.” Yin Xian turned his face away, dodging the sweet she was trying to feed him.

“Aaah—” Wang Jiexiang stretched her arm out, not giving up. “Just try one bite! This jelly’s a different flavor. It’s really good.”

Reluctantly, Yin Xian took another bite.

“If you eat too much now, you’ll be too full to enjoy dinner at the hotel.”

She popped the half-eaten jelly into her mouth and tossed the snack wrappers into a plastic bag. “You make a good point.”

Since Wang Jiexiang was talking so much, to distract her, Yin Xian handed her his phone and told her to play Snake.

Just like a kid, she quickly got hooked. After a few rounds, her interest was piqued. Curled up in the seat, she skillfully tapped away, fully immersed in the game.

The car finally quieted down, and Yin Xian played some music.

“Ugh, the phone froze.”

The buttons stopped responding for a few seconds as a text came in.

She glanced at the notification and handed the phone back to Yin Xian.

“It’s a message from your company.”

He didn’t take the phone.

“It’s fine. Ignore it, just keep playing.”

Wang Jiexiang returned to the Snake game and restarted.

But before long, she paused again.

The ringtone blared, drowning out the soft background music in the car.

“It’s your company calling.”

Without even looking, he said, “I’m not answering.”

Wang Jiexiang knew she shouldn’t look too happy—it would make it seem like she was at odds with his job. She’d always tried to be understanding. But when Yin Xian refused the call, she couldn’t hide her delight.

The phone rang and rang until it finally hung up.

Sunlight streamed into the car as Wang Jiexiang nestled comfortably in her seat, humming along to the music.

When they reached their destination and checked into the hotel, they strolled to a nearby seafood restaurant.

Opening the menu, Wang Jiexiang scanned the price list in seconds.

Yin Xian tried to stop her. “Feifei.”

“So expensive,” she whispered in his ear. “I used to work at a seafood factory, and this stuff…”

He snatched the menu from her hand. “Don’t worry about the prices. Just tell me what you want to eat.”

Yin Xian sounded downright generous. Wang Jiexiang matched his tone with an equally extravagant air, slapped the table, and declared, “Alright, let’s start with a plate of stir-fried noodles.”

He glanced at the menu and, as expected, saw the noodles listed at the bottom—just above plain rice in price.

In the end, it was Yin Xian who ordered. He chose all the house specialties.

While waiting for the food, he said he was going to the restroom.

Wang Jiexiang also needed to wash her hands, so she followed just after him.

As she walked out, she caught sight of his back—he was on the phone at the end of the hallway.

She didn’t call out and quietly returned to the table.

All the dishes arrived, but Yin Xian hadn’t come back yet. She sat there bored, waiting.

He’d been gone so long that the seafood soup had gone a bit cold by the time he returned.

Seeing him approach, she smiled and pulled out his chair.

Yin Xian looked at her empty bowl. “Why didn’t you start eating?”

“I’m not hungry.”

She called the waiter over and asked them to reheat the soup, not showing the slightest trace of displeasure.

Yin Xian sat down, still concerned. “You didn’t need to wait. You should’ve eaten.”

She said softly, “At home, I always eat first too…”

She placed a shrimp in his bowl and took a deep breath.

“I’m really not hungry. I had so many snacks in the car—it’s fine to wait.”

Maintaining a good mood while traveling was a shared, unspoken goal between them—neither wanted to ruin it.

But unfortunately, it wasn’t the season for seaside fun. The water was too cold to swim.

The wind the next day was strong, and even a walk by the sea was uncomfortably chilly.

Yin Xian suggested they visit a nearby food street instead, and Wang Jiexiang readily agreed.

They rarely got to go out shopping together. The food street wasn’t particularly unique—almost every city had something like it—but they enjoyed it thoroughly.

Wang Jiexiang, ever the foodie, stopped at every snack vendor to take a look. She didn’t miss a single boutique either.

She found a cartoon bunny hair clip and held it up to her head.

“Yin Xian, look! Do I look cute?”

He shook his head. “Childish.”

Wang Jiexiang huffed and put it back.

But as she walked out, Yin Xian didn’t follow. Looking back, she saw him lining up at the register.

He had calculated the price for the bunny clip. Wang Jiexiang beamed and pinned it in her hair.

A short while later, it was Yin Xian’s turn to be drawn in.

A small stall caught his eye with a sign that read: “Create Your Own Name Charm for Your Phone.”

They stepped closer—it wasn’t anything special. Plastic letter blocks with engraved characters. Buyers picked out the ones for their name, and the vendor would string them together into a charm.

Wang Jiexiang noticed Yin Xian was quite interested. “Looking for your name or mine?”

“Yours.”

So she started searching.

She quickly found the blocks for “Wang” and “Xiang” and was looking for “Jie” when Yin Xian suddenly said,

“I got mine.”

She looked at his palm—he was holding two blocks, both engraved with “Fei.”

“Boss, make this into a charm.”

He turned to Wang Jiexiang and said, “It’s a gift for you.”

“Gift my foot! I don’t want it!”

She snatched his hand, returned the plastic blocks to the vendor, and dragged Yin Xian away from the stall.

At the far end of the food street, a crowd had gathered. From a distance, Wang Jiexiang saw the words “Yinyuan Bridge.”

“Wow, there’s a special bridge!” She pulled Yin Xian along to take a look.

Special was an overstatement—it was clearly a deliberately crafted tourist attraction.

A large tree was wrapped with loops of red string, its branches adorned with red ribbons and plaques inscribed with wishes. Behind the tree was a simple little bridge—someone with long legs could cross it in four or five steps.

With the words “Yinyuan” (matchmaking) as its selling point, the area around the bridge attracted many young couples.

Wang Jiexiang was curious. “What are they doing over there?”

“See that little stall? The matchmaking plaques are five yuan each, and it’s ten yuan to hang one on the tree.”

“Come on,” she tugged him over to join the fun. “Let’s take a look too.”

Yin Xian had no interest in such things, and under the tree it was loud and crowded.

Wang Jiexiang didn’t notice his expression and bounced ahead, pulling him toward Yinyuan Bridge.

Before they reached the tree, a photographer trying to drum up business intercepted them.

“Sir, miss, how about a photo together? Yinyuan Bridge brings people together! You two look so perfect, the photo is bound to turn out great.”

Wang Jiexiang waved him off. “No thanks, I rarely take photos. I don’t look good in them.”

As soon as she responded, the vendor sensed an opening and pushed even harder, following them closely. “We’re professionals—you’re so pretty, with such a small face, you’ll look great. Just take one photo. Your boyfriend’s handsome too. Are you two here on a trip? You should take something back as a memory. Yinyuan Bridge is famous for granting love.”

Yin Xian picked up his pace, trying to walk away, but Wang Jiexiang was starting to waver.

“Couple photos are on discount today. Normally it’s ten yuan, but since you’re such a good-looking pair, we’ll do it for five.”

Wang Jiexiang tugged on Yin Xian’s sleeve. “Only five yuan. That’s not too expensive.”

He looked at the anticipation in her eyes and hesitated, swallowing back what he wanted to say.

In the end, he gave in.

They stood at the crowded bridge, with the stone stele behind them that read “Yinyuan Bridge,” and that short, narrow, ramshackle bridge in the background.

Passersby glanced at them as the photographer raised the camera, asking them to link arms and smile.

Once the photo was taken, Wang Jiexiang paid twenty-five yuan—five for the photo session and twenty for the print.

The photo didn’t come out well. She asked Yin Xian if he wanted to see it; he shook his head.

Only then did Wang Jiexiang realize—he wasn’t happy about it.

He wasn’t happy, but he hadn’t said a word the whole time.

In the photo, Wang Jiexiang clung to Yin Xian’s arm, her body leaning toward him, smiling brightly with her gums showing. She rarely took photos, and this was probably the best-looking one she had.

He, whom she clung to, stood slightly behind her. Except for his arm, the rest of his body was stiff and unmoving. She leaned toward him, but he stood straight, leaving a visible gap between them.

Yin Xian wasn’t smiling. His eyes didn’t look at the camera, his gaze was cold.

Behind them, the big festive red characters “Yinyuan” looked especially forced.

Wang Jiexiang shoved the photo into her pocket and never looked at it again.

They walked back to the food street.

Yin Xian looked down and saw the thoughtful look on her face. He made a suggestion.

“Do you still want to go to the matchmaking tree? We didn’t get to earlier.”

Wang Jiexiang stared into his eyes in silence for a few seconds. She realized she couldn’t smoothly answer his question because she had started wondering what he wanted to do.

That kind of wondering permeated her daily life, present in every moment they spent together.

What does he want? Is he happy or unhappy… He never said anything.

If she couldn’t guess, then she just couldn’t guess.