Chapter 25 - Why had Xiao Wanqing cried? (Patreon)

The atmosphere had grown a little tense, until the sudden sound of raindrops striking the windows broke through the silence—tap tap tap, like tiny pebbles hitting glass. Moments later, hurried sounds of windows slamming shut echoed around them.

It was raining again—unexpected and relentless.

Wen Tong glanced out at the rain that was now pouring down in sheets. She frowned and complained, “How many times has it rained this week already? My laundry’s going to start molding at this rate.”

Xiao Wanqing smiled faintly and said, “I heard there’s another typhoon approaching. Haven’t you gotten used to the weather here after living here for so long?”

Lin Xian had just stepped off the treadmill. She leaned against a nearby pillar to rest, also gazing at the torrential downpour. She looked slightly concerned as she asked Xiao Wanqing, “Aunt Xiao, did we bring an umbrella?”

Xiao Wanqing gently shook her head. “Not this time. I used it the other day and left it on the balcony to dry. Forgot to put it back in the car.” She reached out with a towel to gently wipe the sweat from Lin Xian’s forehead, reassuring her softly, “Don’t worry. It’s just a short walk from the garage to the building. Maybe the rain will stop soon.”

At the mention of the typhoon, Wen Tong was reminded of the one from just over two weeks ago—of the reckless thing Xiao Wanqing had done then. She remembered how anxious she’d felt at the time and couldn’t help but speak sharply: “This time, I hope you’ve stocked up on your usual medicine. Don’t go doing anything crazy again.”

Xiao Wanqing’s idea of giving someone the side-eye was still so gentle it lacked any bite. She sighed and replied helplessly, “You make it sound like you’re cursing either me or Xianxian.”

Wen Tong blinked, replaying her words in her head, and then laughed a little at the realization. Still, she raised an eyebrow and said stubbornly, “You’re just reading into it too much.”

“Yes, yes, you’re always right,” Xiao Wanqing replied, lips curled in a teasing smile, her tone so deliberately half-hearted it was almost comical.

Watching the two bicker, Lin Xian couldn’t help but smile herself. It was rare to see this playful side of Wanqing.

At last, the mood had lightened again.

The three of them decided to call it a day and moved to the lounge area. They sat around a table to rest. Suddenly, Wen Tong remembered something and turned to Xiao Wanqing. “You’re not going to bail on our National Day trip again, are you?”

Xiao Wanqing arched her brows but didn’t answer directly. Instead, she turned toward Lin Xian and asked gently, “Xianxian, do you have any plans for the National Day holiday?”

Without hesitation, Lin Xian replied honestly, “I already talked it over with Mom and Dad during the summer—we’re going to tour six European countries as a reward for me getting into Jingnan.” She had lived in the U.S. for a year with Zhou Qin and the others, and had visited Canada too. North America left her with a lively, passionate impression that she quite enjoyed, but something about Europe—the deep history, the romantic charm—called to her even more. She’d been looking forward to this trip for ages.

Hearing that Lin Xian had plans, Xiao Wanqing felt relieved and turned back to Wen Tong with a breezy tone, “Then I’m free. Let’s stick with the original plan.”

Wen Tong gave her a mock glare. “Why do I feel like I’m just your backup plan?”

Xiao Wanqing chuckled, pretending to scold her, “Don’t say such things in front of the kid.”

Lin Xian bit her lip—I’m not a kid anymore, she thought. But in the end, she only tilted her head and asked softly, “Aunt Xiao, what’s your plan for the holiday?”

“Your Aunt Wen and I are planning a trip to Changchuan. Starting from the ancient city of Lizhou, we’ll travel through Hanjiang and Yuanhu. It’s a shame we’ll miss the snowy mountains of Yunhu this time of year, though.”

Lin Xian’s eyes lit up. Those were all places she had marked on her travel wish list. She sighed from the heart, “I want to see them too. It all sounds so beautiful…”

Xiao Wanqing reached out to tap her nose lightly, soothing her restlessness. “You’ll get the chance. And Europe is beautiful too—each place has its own charm.”

Lin Xian nodded. Aunt Xiao is right. There will be time for everything. But then her eyes gleamed with a new kind of longing. “If only you didn’t have plans, we could all go together,” she said, then dreamily continued, “If only we could stroll down the Champs-Élysées in France, cruise the Rhine in Germany, stand among tulip fields under windmills in the Netherlands…”

Her voice grew softer and softer, trailing off…

Because she noticed that Aunt Xiao’s face had paled with each passing word. Her expression was stiff, distant. But even as Lin Xian looked at her in surprise, Xiao Wanqing managed to pull up a smile—gentle, but clearly forced. “It is a pity,” she said softly. “There was a time when I really wanted to go too…”

Her eyes held a depth Lin Xian couldn’t quite comprehend—murky, unreadable. It was as if she was looking at Lin Xian, and yet also looking through her, at something—or someone—far away. A memory unreachable to Lin Xian.

She lowered her gaze, regret bubbling up inside. Why did I say so much? Did I touch a sore spot without realizing?

Thankfully, Wen Tong cut in just in time, playfully scolding, “Little Lin Xian, poaching people right in front of me—how bold!”

Startled by Wen Tong’s tone, Lin Xian quickly tried to defend herself, “I didn’t mean to…”

Xiao Wanqing chuckled gently at their exchange.

But the atmosphere… had already changed.

On the ride home, Xiao Wanqing turned on the car’s audio system, letting songs play one after another—some upbeat, some soft and mellow. Still, Lin Xian felt the silence in the car was oddly heavy.

She stole glances at Xiao Wanqing from time to time. Her side profile was as gentle and serene as always, but somehow, Lin Xian sensed a quiet sorrow in the corners of her eyes and lips—something subdued, something new.

She turned her gaze back out the window, watching the city blur past in streaks of light and motion. People walking, cars flowing by—were they travelers or just heading home? She stared up at the towering buildings flanking the road, at the glowing windows scattered like stars across them. Behind every light, there must be at least one person. And with every person, a story.
What kind of story does Aunt Xiao have?

Though they sat so close now, Lin Xian couldn’t shake the feeling that she and Xiao Wanqing were still worlds apart.

At another red light, they came to a stop. Not far off, she spotted a convenience store where a small line of people waited at the counter for freshly grilled golden corn on the cob.

She turned to Xiao Wanqing with a burst of cheer, trying to lift the mood. “They’re selling corn over there.”

Xiao Wanqing blinked, drawn from her thoughts. She turned with a small smile. “You like corn?”

Lin Xian nodded. “Yeah. Even plain steamed corn smells sweet and tastes great. And if you toss some into pork rib soup? It makes the whole broth richer and sweeter.”

Xiao Wanqing didn’t comment—just smiled again.

The red light turned green, and the flow of traffic began to move again. Xiao Wanqing followed the car in front, inching forward, but gradually veered off the main road. She pulled into a temporary roadside stop not far from the convenience store, unfastened her seatbelt, and opened the door while reminding Lin Xian, “It’s still raining out there. It’s inconvenient for you to get out. Just wait for me in the car—I’ll be back in no time.”

Before Lin Xian could react or ask what she was doing, she saw Xiao Wanqing step out and shut the door with practiced ease. Raising a hand to shield herself from the rain, she circled the car, carefully avoiding puddles, and jogged—albeit a bit awkwardly—toward the nearby store.

Lin Xian’s gaze followed the slim and graceful figure, and suddenly, her heart felt as if it had been struck—hard. She stared as Xiao Wanqing gestured and spoke with the store owner, took the corn from his hands, and disappeared into the shop to pay. For some reason, a wide, uncontrollable smile spread across her face.

Before long, Xiao Wanqing returned. She paused by the car door and gave herself a quick shake to get rid of the rainwater. Lin Xian, unable to contain herself, opened the door for her with a mixture of admiration and concern. She fussed, half reproachfully, “I was just saying that in passing! The rain’s so heavy—why did you run out like that? Look, your clothes are soaked now.”

Xiao Wanqing simply got into the car, handed the corn to Lin Xian, started the engine, and smiled gently to comfort her. “It’s alright. We’re almost home. Just take a warm shower and change into something dry.” She glanced at the corn in Lin Xian’s hand and nudged her, “Quick, eat it while it’s hot. See how it tastes—it smells pretty good.”

Lin Xian opened the bag, and the rich, sweet aroma of corn instantly filled the small car. She took a gentle bite. The corn was warm, juicy, and sweet—just like her current mood. Beaming, she looked at Xiao Wanqing and said sincerely, “It’s delicious.” Then, she held it out to her and smiled with crescent-shaped eyes, inviting, “Aunt Xiao, you should try a bite too.”

The joy on the girl’s face was unmistakable—her eyes sparkled with a kind of innocent charm that Xiao Wanqing hadn’t seen before. Her heart softened. So easy to please. She couldn’t bring herself to refuse and leaned in to take a small bite from the other side of the corn, chewing slowly. Then, she echoed softly, “Mmm, it really is good.”

The smile on Lin Xian’s face grew even brighter.

By the time they neared home, the rain had stopped—just as suddenly as it had started. As they got out of the car, Lin Xian walked beside Xiao Wanqing, and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a long, flat, rectangular bulge in the side pocket of Xiao Wanqing’s fitted sweatpants.

She frowned slightly. Did she have that when we left the gym?

It didn’t seem like it.

Did she pick it up at the convenience store?

When they got home, the two of them went to shower separately. Lin Xian finished her shower, dried her hair, and even did the laundry, but Xiao Wanqing still hadn’t come out of the bedroom. She started to feel a bit worried.

As she approached the room, she finally heard the roar of a hairdryer coming from inside. Lin Xian tilted her head. Has she really been in there that long?

The bedroom door was ajar. Lin Xian raised her hand to knock, but what she saw made her freeze—Xiao Wanqing was standing with her head slightly lowered, one hand holding the hairdryer, the other lifting the damp hair from the back of her neck.

But both of her hands had been holding the same pose for a long time. Too long. Lin Xian even thought she could smell a faint, scorched scent—like strands of hair being overheated.

The light in Lin Xian’s eyes dimmed. She turned back to her room and sat on her bed in a daze for a while before hopping off, opening her laptop at her desk.

A little while later, she carried the laptop in her arms and returned to Xiao Wanqing’s door. She knocked gently, twice.

“Aunt Xiao, can I come in?”

Xiao Wanqing had just finished drying her hair. When she saw Lin Xian and the laptop in her arms, she smiled softly. “What are you holding that for?”

Lin Xian skipped into the room and plopped down beside her, blinking playfully as she showed the open laptop screen. She pleaded sweetly, “Aunt Xiao, let’s watch a movie together. The school theater was playing it the other night, but I skipped it because I wanted to come home and eat dinner with you.”

Xiao Wanqing didn’t ask what movie it was. She glanced at the watch she had taken off and left on the nightstand—it had just passed nine. The movie wouldn’t run too long, and it wasn’t very late. She rubbed Lin Xian’s head and gave in with a smile. “Alright, come on. Let’s lie back and watch it together.”

Lin Xian instantly lit up and kicked off her slippers, eagerly climbing into bed.

Sensing that Xiao Wanqing seemed a little down tonight—likely because of old memories—Lin Xian had deliberately chosen a highly rated, widely loved comedy from the 1990s. It starred the legendary Stephen Chow: A Chinese Odyssey.

Lin Xian didn’t notice the way Xiao Wanqing’s lips pressed tightly together when she saw the movie title. Still, she said nothing.

The film lived up to its reputation—Lin Xian’s laughter came easily, her giggles constantly bubbling up as the movie poked at her funny bone again and again. By the end, she could barely stop smiling. As the closing credits approached, the theme song began to play. On the city wall, the Sunset Warrior and a woman who looked just like the Fairy Zixia stood facing each other, entangled in a fated romance. Sun Wukong had possessed the warrior’s body, weaving through with exaggerated flair and theatrical passion. He made his heartfelt confession with dramatic inflection, and Lin Xian couldn’t help it—she burst out laughing once more.

So this… was where those famously cheesy lines came from.

The woman stared after the departing figure of Sun Wukong. “That man looked so strange,” she said. “I saw it too,” the warrior replied. “He looked like... a dog.”

Though flowers wither (my only wish),

they will bloom again (for you).

A lifelong love, fading (I wait),

beyond the white clouds (I hope).

Love and hate surge in this bitter sea, in the world, destiny is hard to escape…

As the song swelled and Sun Wukong’s lonely figure faded into the distance, the movie slowly came to an end.

Still hugging her laptop, Lin Xian turned with a lingering smile, ready to share her thoughts with Xiao Wanqing—only to freeze in surprise. Xiao Wanqing was still staring at the screen, motionless. Her lips were tightly pressed together, and her ink-black eyes shimmered with tears, rimmed in red.

Lin Xian’s heart skipped a beat. Caught off guard, she didn’t know what to do. In the next moment, Xiao Wanqing lowered her gaze. Her hands moved quietly beneath the laptop on her knees, fingers working with subtle precision. Several long seconds passed before she finally managed to pop the battery out.

The screen went dark in an instant.

Lin Xian feigned alarm, giving a soft, surprised “Ah,” and blinked innocently. “What happened?”

Xiao Wanqing snapped out of it. Turning her head away, she wiped the tears from her eyes, gently sniffled, then quickly regained her composure. She patted Lin Xian’s hand casually, as if nothing had happened. “Maybe the battery died.”

Lin Xian let out a helpless sigh. “Ah, I think I picked the wrong movie. You know, we probably should’ve watched a horror film. It’d go perfectly with these snacks. Real spooky vibes.”

That made Xiao Wanqing chuckle, her voice soft and sweet. “Then I wouldn’t watch it with you.”

But that only made Lin Xian more mischievous. Her eyes sparkled with playful light. “Come on, Auntie Xiao, don’t be scared. Let me tell you a ghost story. Once upon a time—”

Before she could finish, Xiao Wanqing hurriedly covered her mouth, clearly panicking. She was afraid Lin Xian would actually go through with it. Her hand pressed firmly against Lin Xian’s lips, determined to silence her.

Lin Xian felt the warmth of Xiao Wanqing’s fingers against her lips, heard her soft, laughing protest right next to her, and finally let herself laugh out loud too—genuine and from the heart.

But that night, Lin Xian, who rarely had trouble falling asleep, found herself lying awake, tossing and turning.

She stared at the darkness, at the ceiling above, her mind a swirl of thoughts.

Why had Xiao Wanqing cried?

She couldn’t stop thinking about it. She guessed that maybe she didn’t really understand A Chinese Odyssey—but Xiao Wanqing had.

What had she seen in the film?

Fourteen years of time. A fourteen-year gap. Just how far apart was that?

For a moment, Lin Xian wanted to understand—but another part of her didn’t.