【Gui Street】

He is a good person.

This was Wang Luxi’s assessment of Yuan Bei.

He helps his friend by acting as a tour guide for groups, which shows he’s loyal and warm-hearted;

He’s willing to rescue sick animals, which shows he’s kind;

His appearance is above average, with shoes and white T-shirts that are always spotlessly clean, which shows he’s patient and self-disciplined;

He remembered her casual mention of wanting yogurt, and even bought wet wipes in case her hands got sticky from ice cream, which proves he’s attentive to detail;

Faced with her illogical and impolite suspicions, he wasn’t annoyed, and could even keenly perceive her subtle thoughts, helping her stop herself when they were about to emerge – this proves he has high emotional intelligence and is a mature, decent person.

In Wang Luxi’s view, Yuan Bei had so many good qualities, yet one fatal flaw—

“He rejected my invitation. Indeed, he’s not interested in anything, including me.” She told her friend, “Master Wang announces that this crush operation has ended in failure. I’m crushed.”

Despite not wanting to admit it, falling for someone is indeed a one-sided affair. It’s an instantaneous small-scale explosion, hormones and dopamine bursting into fireworks across the sky. You can’t expect the other person to be completely in sync with you, so that when you both look up, you’re seeing the same night sky.

Her friend consoled Wang Luxi: “That’s normal. If a crush came true, would it still be called a crush? Besides, you’ve only known each other for a few days. Our Master Wang is so pretty, smart, and has such a good personality – she’s practically a woman without flaws. Who does he think he is? In a few days, school will start, and there will be guys from all over. Plenty more fish in the sea.”

Yes, that’s right.

A friendship of just a few days, a shallow attraction – naturally, it could be washed away in a few days. That’s fair. But still, it was a bit sad.

Wang Luxi felt Yuan Bei was different from all those boys who had pursued her in high school. The more she thought about it, the more heartbroken she felt, as if she had missed a limited-time gift from heaven. Once that specific moment passed, no matter how high she raised her hands, nothing like it would fall into them again.

It felt like a “heartbreak.”

And this was her first time experiencing it.

Wang Luxi didn’t want to waste this precious “first experience,” so she went to 7-11 and browsed around, selecting from the alcohol shelf something she’d heard of, that looked nice, and came in a small bottle – a peach-flavored Jiangxiaobai.

Heartbreak calls for drinking, but it was truly awful. She took one gulp and couldn’t swallow it, nearly spitting it out. In the end, she gave up and threw it in the trash.

She had wanted to block Yuan Bei too.

They wouldn’t have any interaction in the future anyway, so blocking him would make a statement – super cool. But on second thought, she felt it was a bit childish. She was eighteen now, and should start learning adult manners and decorum, just like Yuan Bei – understanding everything but remaining casual, a slow, dignified grace.

She opened Yuan Bei’s WeChat Moments again and left a comment on his only post: [Hope they both grow up healthy and find a new home soon.]

Then she liked the post and deleted their chat history.

Wang Luxi felt she had grown up.

Great job.

–

Summer wasn’t over yet.

Waves of people followed one after another, cicadas chirped loudly, and the roads were scorching. Beijing’s summer heat continued.

This city never rests.

…

Yuan Bei’s childhood friend finally found some free time and organized a gathering for everyone to eat and play board games. During the meal, he showed everyone the sunburn on his arm: “I just guided a few tour groups, and now I don’t even look human anymore.”

Then he gestured behind him at Yuan Bei, who hadn’t joined in: “Look at him, just look at him. How strange – why doesn’t he get tanned? Heaven isn’t fair.”

Yuan Bei was dressed all in black today – black T-shirt, black cargo pants, and a black baseball cap pulled down almost to his eyebrows, which made his exposed skin look even whiter. With his long limbs, he was reclined on the sofa. His childhood friend said if he added a black face mask, he could go to Sanlitun pretending to be a trainee or minor celebrity, and would definitely be followed by a crowd of photographers with cameras.

Hearing this, Yuan Bei looked up from his phone screen, eyes half-opened: “You’re sick.”

“Stop resting, come replace me. I need to pee.” His childhood friend gave up his seat.

Yuan Bei had good relationships and an excellent reputation among his tight-knit childhood friends. Whenever there was a gathering, he never spoiled the fun, always participating, though usually maintaining a low profile.

Today they were playing “The Message,” a spy-themed deduction game. Yuan Bei didn’t like these identity-concealing, identity-guessing board games because they were mentally exhausting. After two rounds, everyone was usually completely wiped out.

During breaks, they naturally gossiped.

Two people who weren’t present today were also childhood friends – a pair who had been sweethearts for many years but eventually had a bitter breakup. They had each found new partners and, coincidentally, both set their weddings for National Day this year. After checking the lunar calendar, they had chosen the same day. Most hilariously, they had booked the same hotel, with banquet halls on different floors.

Everyone joked about it. They were all very good friends, and now they faced a dilemma about whether to attend the man’s wedding or the woman’s.

Beijing was so big, yet such coincidences really did happen.

“What terrible fate this is. They get married, and we suffer,” his childhood friend snapped his fingers. “Oh, I forgot, Yuan Bei doesn’t need to worry about this. He’s about to leave.”

The topic naturally meandered back to Yuan Bei.

Not everyone likes being the center of attention, especially Yuan Bei, so he stood up.

“At your age, suddenly deciding to go back to school – what kind of thought process is that?”

Yuan Bei pretended not to hear his childhood friend’s teasing. He stood on the second floor, leaning against the railing, looking down.

“When are you leaving?”

“End of the month,” Yuan Bei said.

“Huh? This month? End of August? Today is already… the fifth.”

End of August, catching the tail of summer, before the first autumn breeze blew into the city.

Several people were studying a new board game.

Yuan Bei was still standing by the railing.

The board game cafe had two floors, with the second floor forming a ring. From his vantage point, he could clearly see the scattered tables in the lobby below. This was precisely why Yuan Bei’s gaze kept being drawn to the large ten-person table in the center.

They seemed to be playing an identity deduction game too. The girl sitting at the very edge appeared nervous about hiding her identity, frequently picking up her face-down identity card to check it, about once every few seconds, as if afraid of forgetting her role. Her expression of impending doom made Yuan Bei smile.

Who had just said it?

Beijing is so big, yet never lacks coincidences.

…

Wang Luxi, unaware of being observed, remained focused.

This was her first time playing this board game, and she was especially afraid of letting down her teammates. The pressure was immense.

Having barely made it to the end, identities were revealed, and the spy she had suspected from the first round was indeed voted out thanks to her lead. She pushed away her tool cards with relief and jumped up: “God! That was exhausting!”

It was more tiring than doing math problems.

Looking at the time, it was already past eleven at night.

Time to disperse.

Just as she stood up, she heard someone call her: “Leaving already?”

Wang Luxi picked up her bag and turned around to see one of the boys she had just played with, who had dyed his hair silver, making him quite noticeable.

“We’re going next door to find a place for a late-night snack. Want to join?” he asked Wang Luxi while scrolling through the contact list in the group.

Wang Luxi’s profile picture was a selfie.

“Wang Wang Wang… is that you?” (tl: like woofwoofwoof)

The remaining people who were cleaning up the table laughed when they heard this online name.

“I sent you a friend request. Please accept it,” the boy said. “It’s not far, very lively. We can either eat or drink… You’re not in a hurry to get home, right?”

Wang Luxi tugged at her backpack straps: “How many people?”

How many people for a late-night snack? Eating what?

The boy was taken aback, running his fingers through his hair: “Just… the two of us. But we can find more people if you want.”

Wang Luxi recalled the city walk route she had taken during the day. From Wudaoying, through Jianchang Hutong, then to Guozijian, along Yonghegong Avenue heading south… She had seen the Chinese scholar trees blooming along the way. One of Beijing’s city trees, with dense shade and a sea of flowers, was truly beautiful. But she wasn’t sure what the scenery would be like at night. She was quite interested in walking around and taking some photos, but…

“Wait a moment…”

Wang Luxi looked around and found that most people at the table had already left. She asked a few girls, but they all had partners and other plans.

“Well…”

Then forget it.

It wouldn’t be fun with just two people, especially since they weren’t familiar with each other.

Wang Luxi was about to decline when she felt tugging on her bag from behind.

She reached back to block it.

She had attached a “Phoenix Chirp” trinket she bought from XianYu (online secondhand site) to her bag – she didn’t want it to get damaged.

“Um, I…”

There was still someone behind her, pulling with even more force.

Wang Luxi was interrupted again, getting a bit annoyed. She clicked her tongue, frowned, and turned her head to glance at the person.

She turned her head, then turned back. Then turned back again.

She froze.

…After not seeing each other for a week, she realized she had somewhat forgotten Yuan Bei’s appearance, but with one glance, she still felt her heart flutter.

Yuan Bei was so much taller than her, and people wearing black often look less gentle and more cold. Under the black cap brim, Yuan Bei’s clear eyes looked at her, his eyelids lowered, with an expression between a smile and not.

He smiled as he spoke to her, still with that leisurely tone: “Still playing?”

His tone was familiar, oddly so.

Wang Luxi didn’t react immediately, so Yuan Bei raised his hand and looked at his wrist: “What time is it now?”

What’s wrong with him? He didn’t even have a watch on his wrist. What was he looking at?

“If you’re still playing, count me in,” Yuan Bei didn’t care about others’ gazes. He casually pulled out a chair and made to sit down. “What are we playing? Let me see if I know it.”

“We’re done,” Wang Luxi reminded him with a furrowed brow.

Even the most oblivious person could sense the awkward atmosphere. The silver-haired boy shrugged: “You have a friend? Well, forget it then. We’ll catch up another time.”

They said goodbye to each other.

Wang Luxi was momentarily stuck, not knowing whether to move or stay put. She carefully considered the word “friend” and watched for Yuan Bei’s reaction. She saw him casually pick up a board game box to look at, then put it down and stand up.

“Guess we’re done,” he so naturally yawned in front of her. “Going back? How are you getting home?”

Then without waiting for Wang Luxi to speak, he answered his own question: “Wait for me a bit. I’ll go upstairs to say goodbye, then I’ll see you home.”

“…”

–

Coming out of the hutong and walking a bit south, they reached Gui Street.

“Gui” is pronounced like “ghost,” and it’s a place with its share of legends and anecdotes. It seems that in Beijing, any street you pick has stories.

Legend has it that this place has been a merchant gathering spot for many years, but for some unknown reason, business was never good during the day, only thriving at night, hence the name.

However, Gui Street has now become a food street, with numerous restaurants crowded together. For late-night snacks, there seems to be no place more lively than Gui Street – open all night, no matter what time you come, you can always find a place still serving.

Wang Luxi didn’t know Yuan Bei had parked so far away.

She followed behind Yuan Bei, stepping on his shadow, with an inexplicable irritation stuck in her throat, making her uncomfortable.

“I’m tired!” She stared at the back of Yuan Bei’s neck. “If I had known you parked so far, I would have taken a taxi instead!”

Yuan Bei didn’t stop, nor did he look back: “Almost there.”

“I’m hungry!”

Wang Luxi just couldn’t stand Yuan Bei today, though she didn’t know why. After not seeing each other for a week, then this chance encounter, there was no joy.

The nonchalance and relaxed demeanor that had most attracted her was still present in him, but Wang Luxi didn’t seem to care about it as much anymore. On the contrary, it sparked her rebellious nature, bristling out one by one.

“I want to eat,” she said.

Yuan Bei stopped walking.

“What do you want to eat?”

…

Gui Street is most famous for Hu Da, which serves crayfish.

There are several branches on this street, open 24 hours, but regardless of which one, the queues at the entrance were intimidating. There were even people helping to grab queue numbers – scalpers for eating crayfish, something Wang Luxi truly hadn’t expected.

Yuan Bei didn’t mind; he listened to her arrangement: “Shall we wait?”

Wait until dawn tomorrow?!

Wang Luxi took a deep breath, looked around, then pointed in a direction: “Let’s keep walking. Whichever restaurant has empty seats, we’ll eat there.”

Alright.

This time they switched positions, with Wang Luxi leading the way and Yuan Bei following. There were too many pedestrians, and Wang Luxi turned her head several times to ensure Yuan Bei was still within three steps behind her.

Until they found a restaurant with no waiting – a Jiangxi cuisine place.

After sitting down, Wang Luxi sniffed, smelling the chili and Sichuan pepper in the air, which did nothing to alleviate the frustration in her chest but instead added to her sense of grievance.

She couldn’t understand why, in Beijing, in the middle of the night, she was eating her hometown cuisine.

“You order. You’re familiar with it.” Yuan Bei scanned the QR code on the table corner, then handed her his phone.

Wang Luxi didn’t hesitate, smoothly ordering several home-style dishes, and then two bottles of beer.

“I’m driving,” Yuan Bei reminded her.

“I’ll drink by myself,” Wang Luxi wiped small water droplets from the glass table with a napkin. “If I hadn’t run into you, I might be drinking already by now.”

She had previously bookmarked a small bar nearby, which reportedly had live band performances, and had wanted to check it out.

“Do you know all those people playing board games just now?”

“No,” Wang Luxi still kept her head down, not looking at Yuan Bei. “I joined a rideshare group for murder mystery and board games.”

“So, if you hadn’t met me, you would have gone with a man you just met, just the two of you, drinking late at night?”

Wang Luxi wanted to retort, but choked a bit, her voice suddenly weakening: “What’s wrong with that? The first time I met you at the airport, I got in your car.”

Yuan Bei’s hand rested on the edge of the table. Hearing this, he suddenly smiled.

Wang Luxi not only heard his laughter but also detected a hint of pleasure in it. She looked up in surprise, meeting Yuan Bei’s clear eyes under the light.

“Wang Luxi, why are you being sulky with me?”

Sulky – yes, she was being sulky.

Wang Luxi had to admit, even if she didn’t want to, that Yuan Bei was indeed clever and capable, able to see through people at a glance. Someone like her, with no experience and unable to pretend – so nervous while playing a board game that she was almost dying – was like a transparent plastic bag in front of Yuan Bei.

“I’m not saying you can’t socialize. I’m not anyone to you, and I have no right to manage you. But as a friend,” Yuan Bei paused, “… do you think we’re friends?”

Wang Luxi was puzzled.

Yuan Bei opened his phone gallery and handed it to her. On the screen was a video he had just taken from the second floor.

From the upstairs perspective, nothing could be hidden downstairs. While they were playing board games, the silver-haired guy had been secretly taking photos of Wang Luxi several times, and had sent the photos to his WeChat friends.

What they were texting about was unknown.

However, secretly photographing a girl and sending the pictures to friends for appreciation – this kind of behavior was indefensible and simply “creepy.”

Wang Luxi returned the phone to Yuan Bei, her voice muffled: “…I’m not stupid. I wasn’t planning to go out with him.”

The dishes were served.

Wang Luxi had ordered aggressively while being annoyed – all main dishes: blood duck, stir-fried bacon, and bullfrog.

They were momentarily silent.

The next table was lively and noisy, making the cold atmosphere between her and Yuan Bei even more apparent.

She poked at the bacon in her bowl, looked up, and saw Yuan Bei picking through the food. He had sorted out all the meatier bullfrog legs and piled them mountain-high on her side.

Wang Luxi wasn’t pleased: “Eat your own food. Don’t worry about me.”

Yuan Bei raised an eyebrow: “I can’t eat spicy food.”

“…”

Wang Luxi didn’t know that. And she had ordered all spicy dishes.

“Then order something else. This meal is on me,” Wang Luxi swallowed a piece of chili. “It should have been my treat anyway.”

Yuan Bei chuckled: “We’ll talk about that next time.”

Is there a next time?

Wang Luxi suddenly felt overwhelmed with sadness. Not seeing Yuan Bei had been fine; she had been quite happy these few days. But if you’re not going to appear, then never appear again. Yet here he was, crossing paths with her again.

Beijing was really small.

She once again had the idea of drowning her sorrows in alcohol. Beer must taste better than that Jiangxiaobai, right? But wait as she might, those two bottles of beer never arrived.

Yuan Bei raised his eyelids to look at her: “I didn’t order them.”

“…”

This person was so annoying.

Yuan Bei didn’t care. He began to make small talk: “Where have you been staying these days?”

“East side,” Wang Luxi nibbled on the bullfrog in small bites. She used his terminology – wasn’t it just north, south, east, west? Anyone could learn that.

“Hotel?”

“Hostel.”

“Alone? Where have you visited? Have you been to all the sights you wanted to see?”

…

It was at this moment that Wang Luxi put down her chopsticks.

Their seats were by the window. Through the glass, they could clearly see the bustling crowd outside on Gui Street. Across the street, the most crowded Hu Da restaurant had strings of red lanterns hanging at its entrance, casting a red glow over half the street, as if it were burning.

Couples walked past, holding balloons – the kind supported by plastic rods with small colorful lights wrapped inside transparent balloons.

In short, this night, the night on Gui Street, the night in Beijing, was magnificent and brilliant.

Under such splendor, one person’s mood seemed insignificant.

Wang Luxi stared for a while, suddenly feeling a sting in the corner of her eye.

She felt extremely incompetent.

The reason she wasn’t happy seeing Yuan Bei tonight, the reason for her indignation, her rebellion and sulkiness, could be summed up in four words – embarrassed and angry.

She didn’t believe Yuan Bei was unaware of her embarrassment, but the more naturally he behaved, the more uncomfortable she felt, like sitting on pins and needles.

No matter how you put it, it was because she lacked the ability, couldn’t hide her feelings, and temporarily couldn’t process them quickly.

These past few days, she had indeed visited many places and taken many photos. But strangely, in the past when she traveled, she would always first check the anecdotes, routes, and best photo angles of each attraction.

But since meeting Yuan Bei, or rather, since parting with Yuan Bei, whenever she saw the landscapes of Beijing, an additional thought would cross her mind – she wondered if Yuan Bei had been here, when he came, at what age, and if he were here, how he would introduce the place.

It seemed quite unsolvable.

Wang Luxi didn’t like being this way, not at all.

She looked at the people walking under the red glow of lanterns, the light casting vibrant colors on their faces. She wanted to be like that too. She didn’t want to hide, didn’t like suppressing her feelings, didn’t like being depressed and alone. That was meaningless.

Facing one’s true thoughts and accepting one’s emotions – this was a major life lesson.

…

“Yuan Bei,” Wang Luxi took a long time to adjust her breathing. She looked directly into Yuan Bei’s eyes, her hand under the table vigorously rubbing the “Phoenix Chirp” as she spoke the truth, “I’m a bit angry.”

“Yes, I know,” Yuan Bei said. “That’s why you even blocked me from your Moments.”

He had noticed.

During the week they hadn’t seen each other, he hadn’t come across any of Wang Luxi’s updates or photos, which was unusual. When he checked her Moments, his suspicion was confirmed.

Wang Luxi choked.

“Don’t misunderstand. I’m not angry with you; I’m angry with myself,” she tried hard, taking deep breaths. “I don’t want to say exactly why I’m angry, and even if I don’t say it, you already know because you’re so clever.”

Yuan Bei raised his eyebrows.

Accepting this statement.

“I was wrong to lose my temper at you earlier. I apologize,” Wang Luxi said. “It won’t happen again. I’ve already adjusted my attitude.”

Yuan Bei looked at her.

“Adjusted?”

“Yes, adjusted.”

Wang Luxi nodded very firmly and forcefully.

“Just as you said, we are friends. My emotions have nothing to do with you and shouldn’t be your burden. I was a bit childish. I promise it won’t happen again. And… I won’t continue down the wrong path.”

Her navigation system hadn’t malfunctioned; she just needed to recalculate her route.

…

Yuan Bei certainly understood.

He quietly looked at her for a long time before withdrawing his gaze.

He smiled.

“You ordered it. Don’t waste it.”

He pushed the dishes closer to Wang Luxi’s side again.

–

In the end, Yuan Bei paid for the meal, since it was ordered on his phone.

Before getting out of the car, Wang Luxi unfastened her seatbelt and smiled at Yuan Bei, a generous smile: “Thank you for the late-night snack. Next time I really have to treat you.”

The hostel she found was in an apartment building on the East Fourth Ring Road that served both commercial and residential purposes. One room had four beds, all occupied by young people. Coincidentally, perhaps because it was the weekend, even though it was almost two in the morning, she was the first to return.

After showering, she sat on the bed and removed the restriction on her Moments.

She hadn’t managed to drink during dinner, but Yuan Bei had ordered her a can of Coke, which she hadn’t opened and had put in her bag. Now feeling a bit thirsty, she took it out and pulled the tab.

Bubbles gurgled up.

Wang Luxi took small sips of Coke while scrolling through her chat history with Yuan Bei.

Besides the photos in her Moments, she also had some Polaroids, which were now all neatly arranged on her bed – the fruits of these past few days. She sent them to Yuan Bei for appreciation.

She didn’t know if Yuan Bei had reached home yet, but he replied quickly.

Yuan Bei: [I’m actually curious, why do you like using Polaroids?]

What photo equipment is more convenient than a phone nowadays?

Besides, Polaroids aren’t professional equipment; they’re more like toys. At several yuan per sheet of film, as a consumable, it’s not cheap either.

This wasn’t the first time Wang Luxi had been asked this question.

She thought for a moment: [Because it’s very simple.]

Unable to Photoshop, producing an image immediately after shooting – that moment captured in a scene, instantly and immediately sealed in photo form. This was a sense of ritual that phone albums stored in electronic form couldn’t achieve.

Wang Luxi: [I like the feeling of holding the photo paper in my hand.]

Wang Luxi: [It’s as if I’ve truly preserved this moment. The next minute, the next second, will never be the present again.]

The dialogue box on the other side was silent for a while.

Yuan Bei: [That’s so profound.]

Wang Luxi tugged at the corner of her mouth: [I scored very high on my college entrance exam essay.]

Yuan Bei: [Skilled at observing life?]

Wang Luxi: [Yes, just like I observed that you wore a hat tonight because you didn’t wash your hair.]

The string of ellipses Yuan Bei sent made all of Wang Luxi’s week-long grievances completely dissipate.

To be precise, before tonight, she couldn’t have imagined being able to chat and joke with Yuan Bei like this again.

Those subtle discomforts, those needle-sharp confrontations, those unspeakable awkward moments, had finally laid down their arms tonight.

At this moment, she and Yuan Bei were just brought together by fate, friends who met on the road, kindred spirits.

Nothing more.

This feeling was liberating.

It was quite good.

After a while.

Yuan Bei: [What’s your plan for tomorrow?]

Wang Luxi: [Sleep until I wake up naturally, then go to Beihai Park.]

She wanted to see the White Pagoda in Beihai Park.

Yuan Bei sent a screenshot of tomorrow’s weather forecast.

Then a voice message: “Wake up early and go in the morning. It will be cooler.”

He had indeed reached home, and might have been about to rest, because Wang Luxi could hear a raspy quality in his voice, with signs of fatigue.

She shrugged, was about to reply “Got it,” when she heard Yuan Bei say: “I suggest taking the subway. That place is really impossible for parking.”

His tone was natural: “See you at the subway station tomorrow morning. Don’t oversleep.”

“What? You’re going too?”

Wang Luxi was confused.

In the long silence that followed, it was as if she could hear Yuan Bei’s breathing, rising and falling, like ripples on a lake surface.

She stared intently at those shimmering ripples.

Finally, Yuan Bei chuckled.

“To help you preserve a few more moments.”