Chapter 19 Qiao Yi’s New Boyfriend

• “Where are we?”
• “An artist’s residence,” Qiao Yi said smugly, her chin raised. “My boyfriend’s an artist.”
• I wasn’t surprised at all. Qiao Yi’s boyfriends came from all walks of life. Men who tested cosmetic products or tried out new perfumes, white-collar executives and CEOs. She was now casting her net wider into the realm of the arts.
• I nodded and patted her on the shoulder.
• “I extend a very big thank you on behalf of men from other non-arts industries.”
• The comment was like water off a duck’s back. She happily pulled me into the house and began her tour of the grounds.
• “These flowers over here were all planted by my boyfriend. The living area is over there. It has a small lake. My boyfriend does his fishing there occasionally. And over there! My boyfriend likes to do his nature sketches there. This is my boyfriend’s studio. There are no words to describe his art.”
• “Why does your boyfriend sound like a really old man?”
• “You’re the old man.” Then she pointed ahead. “See, my boyfriend!”
• My eyes looked in the direction that her finger was pointing at. I saw a man standing among the flowers as he watered them. His back was turned towards me. He was tall and had a fisherman’s hat on. My gut told me that this wasn’t an extremely young person.
• “Qin Guan!” Qiao Yi yelled out happily as she bounced on her feet.
• He turned around, turned the tap to the water hose off and pulled his hat off. I saw his face.
• As I had expected, he wasn’t young at all. His age appeared to hover between the late thirties and the early forties. It was hard to tell.
• Time had not left the scars of age on his face. What he had was a kind of charm that others lacked.
• My head spun at the sight of his face. It looked familiar, yet I knew that I had never seen him before.
• He looked very handsome. I thought he might not have looked as good when he was younger.
• Some men were like women. They were like flowers, whose beauty wilted and faded away after full blossom.
• Some men were different. Their beauty grew after their full blossom and never faded. Such a frightening thought, right?
• He looked at us, a smile faint on his lips.
• It was a gentle smile, with an easiness that seemed effortless, as if it could take on the whole world.
• It suddenly occurred to me that Qiao Yi was going to be head over heels over him for quite some time. She wasn’t going to dump him after a single day, like she had with her previous boyfriends.
• No wonder she was so entranced by him despite his age.
• “You’re here.” He placed the hose aside and wiped his hands dry with a towel on the rocking chair. “Let me make you some tea. Have a seat.”
• “No hurry. Let me introduce you to my friend first.” Qiao Yi said happily as she pulled Qin Guan back by his arm. “This is my best friend. The kind who’ll never stab me in the back. She’s Xiao Sheng. This is Qin Guan, a world-famous artist. His portraits are like photographs. No one can tell the difference.”
• In Qiao Yi’s mind, good art is art that looked realistic.
• I nodded in earnest greeting.
• “Nice to meet you. I’m Xiao Sheng.”
• “Nice to meet you too. Please, take a seat. I’ll go make some tea for the both of you.”
• We sat on the wicker chairs, right by the fences, which were thick with climbing rose plants. The fences resembled a fluffy, thick, green blanket. This was such a beautiful place. What a wonderful place to be in.
• Qiao Yi started humming, obviously in high spirits. She kept bragging to me.
• “So, isn’t my boyfriend amazingly good-looking?”
• “Yup,” I nodded. I was sincere this time. “He’s not only handsome. His every move gives off a sense of assurance that seems irresistible.”
• “What do you mean by that?” She stared at me with her eyes wide.
• I pushed her face away with a laugh.
• “I don’t know how to explain it. He’s just great. Really great.”
• “It’s rare to hear you complimenting my boyfriend.” Qiao Yi rubbed her chin smugly.
• “How did you two get to know each other?”
• “At his art exhibition, of course. I was so lucky. I managed to bump into him on the last day of his exhibition.”
• “When did you start visiting art exhibitions?” The Qiao Yi I remembered was the first to rush down to the stores whenever the sale of a limited-edition bag was announced. Art galleries and exhibitions, on the other hand. She didn’t seem to have the same kind of appreciation for art that she had for limited-edition bags.
• “You know how people always say you should visit this kind of places and immerse in the artsy atmosphere if you want to forget your troubles.”
• So, she had been trying to distract herself.
• As we chatted, Qin Guan came over and placed a tray on the coffee table.
• A teapot, three teacups and two plates of snacks sat neatly on the tray. The teacups were made of white marble. They looked delicate and sparkled in the light.
• Wormwood was in season now. One of the snacks was wormwood cake. I hadn’t had that for a very long time.
• My mother had been great at making it. She would make it with my favorite stuffing. I liked savory ones, like a mix of turkey, salted egg yolk, dried bamboo shoots and bracken. Just imagine—a bite of a snack that melded the refreshing taste of wormwood leaves and the savory taste of freshly made stuffing. Words couldn’t describe how heavenly that was.
• There were plenty of respectable restaurants in Hua City that made wormwood cakes. The chef in the Xi residence made them too. But their cakes tasted nothing like my mother’s wormwood cakes.
• Qin Guan’s slender fingers pressed lightly around the handle of the teapot as he brewed tea for us. Qiao Yi pressed her cheek into her palm and watched him like a girl lovestruck, her eyes filled with adoration.
• The tea was done. The pale green liquid rippled in the delicate, marble-white teacups. The tea looked delicious.
• “Have some wormwood cake.” Qiao Yi eagerly placed one on my place. I hadn’t intended to have any. I was afraid that having too many would make me forget what my mother’s wormwood cakes had tasted like.
• But Qiao Yi kept staring at me eagerly. Under her intent gaze, I had no choice but to pick the plate up and take a bite.
• The skin was soft and chewy, the stuffing rich and flavorful. An amazing sensation unfurled inside me as I continued chewing.
• I could taste each ingredient inside. There were dried bamboo shoots. Turkey. Salted egg yolk. Bracken.
• This was my mother’s wormwood cake.
• I must have been chewing for quite some time. Qiao Yi nudged me.
• “What’s wrong? Why are you distracted when you’re just having some cake?”
• I swallowed the final bit of cake, then looked straight at Qin Guan.
• “If I may ask, did you make this yourself?”
• He nodded politely.
• “Yes.”
• “Where are you from?”
• “The southern part of China.”
• “This wormwood cake tastes exactly like my mother’s wormwood cake,” I murmured to myself. But my mother wasn’t from the south. She was born in Hua City.
• “That so?” Qiao Yi grabbed a piece and shoved it into her mouth. She nodded furiously. “Yup, this is delicious.”
• She could only tell that this was good cake. But I could tell that this tasted exactly like my mother’s wormwood cake.
• I didn’t ask any more questions though, and I didn’t burst into tears while I ate. This was our first time meeting each other, after all. I shouldn’t freak him out like that.
• The loveliness of the place or perhaps even the wormwood cake might have been to blame. Qin Tai, the man sitting across us, felt more approachable and affable.
• Qiao Yi and I conquered the entire plate of wormwood cake. The cakes soaked up the tea that we had drunk and expanded in my tummies. Feeling quite full, I let my thoughts wander as I gazed into the distance.
• It was a luxury that the city could not afford. The skyline was crowded with high-rise buildings. If you wanted to look into the distance, you would have to climb to the top of the highest building in the city.
• And which building would that be?
• The commercial building that the Xi family owned. Could that be counted as the highest building in the city?
• I had never been up there before. I heard that Xi Qingchuan would often stand on the rooftop, alone, and look into the distance. Perhaps he enjoyed the feeling of looking down on everyone!