Chapter 2

Jing Ming’s family lived in an upscale villa community, all flowing streams and manicured lawns beneath shady trees.
The car glided through pools of light from magnolia-lined streetlamps and stopped before a three-story white European-style house. Every window blazed with warm light, turning the place into a sparkling jewel box.
Jing Ming turned off the ignition.
Du Ruo opened her door to get out but was jerked back by the seatbelt. She turned to unbuckle herself, then stepped out onto the drive.
A man in his thirties hurried out of the house. “Do you have any luggage?”
Du Ruo didn’t know him, and hadn’t decided how to say hello yet, when Jing Ming called out, “Uncle Chen, grab the suitcase from the trunk, will you?”
“Oh, sure thing.”
Uncle Chen gave Du Ruo a friendly smile. She smiled back, quick to catch up to him by the car. “Sorry, the suitcase’s a bit heavy, let me help.”
“No, no, I’ve got it.”
“It really is pretty heavy.” Du Ruo insisted, embarrassed, and helped him lift it.
Jing Ming, a few meters away, glanced back but couldn’t be bothered and strolled into the house ahead of them.
Du Ruo walked in and realized, it really was a jewel box.
The grand living room soared up to a sparkling crystal chandelier that looked like something out of a dream. Huge curtains fell like waterfalls from the ceiling. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows stretched a limitless garden. The living room was larger than her old classroom, European-style sofas, gleaming blue-wood coffee tables, a spiral staircase with carved floral patterns winding up.
They’d even planted real trees, tall ones, right inside the house.
Everything was beautiful, unattainable, a world apart.
But the smiles of the Jing couple, Jing Yuanshan and Ming Yi, were warm, open, almost familiar.
“How did your train end up so late?” Ming Yi asked, smiling.
“I’m not really sure, maybe to make way for express trains?” Du Ruo replied, sneaking a glance at Jing Ming. He slouched sideways on a single armchair, texting, both legs flopped over the arm like a ragdoll, posture completely forgotten.
“Ruochun got taller, didn’t she?” Jing Yuanshan said. “You’ve definitely grown since I visited a couple years ago.”
“But still so skinny,” Ming Yi added. “You need to eat more, put on some weight.”
The Jing couple was so enthusiastic Du Ruo could hardly get in a word. She sat on the couch, legs clamped together, keeping as polite as possible.
“You didn’t get dinner, did you? Are you hungry? Mrs. Chen made a tableful of food, but with the train being late, we’ll have to heat it up.”
“I… had instant noodles on the train,” Du Ruo admitted, a bit sheepish. She couldn’t help but glance again at Jing Ming, who sprawled there texting, looking completely unconcerned.
“That’s okay. If you get hungry later, we’ll have supper.” Ming Yi smiled.
Jing Yuanshan sighed, “Ruochun, you’re so responsible. You worked hard and got into such a good university.”
Jing Ming continued tapping at his phone, seemingly oblivious.
With the Jing couple’s full attention on her, Du Ruo worried it might look like she was disrespecting Jing Ming. Softly, she said, “Jing Ming is amazing too, we’re at the same school.”
But Jing Ming didn’t seem to hear or care about the attempt to smooth things over.
Jing Yuanshan clearly wasn’t satisfied either. He frowned, saying, “That boy? Trying to get him to study is like wrangling an unruly bull. All those tutors, famous teachers, too. I even had to hire someone just to keep tabs on him going to and from class, and half the time I had to send people all over the city to track him down. Thankfully, he lucked into a special admission spot in the end. He’s a headache, that one. Not like you. You’ve done so well on your own, even with all the difficulties.”
Du Ruo felt like she was sitting on pins and needles, smiling awkwardly, not daring to look at Jing Ming. But the rapid tapping of his fingers on his phone never stopped, echoing in her ears the whole time.
Jing Yuanshan wasn’t finished. He glanced at Jing Ming again. “Don’t you have a backbone? Sit up straight!”
Jing Ming grudgingly pulled his legs down, sat up properly, and leaned against the back of the sofa.
“You should learn from Ruochun!”
Jing Ming let out a snort of laughter. “Can you not call her Ruochun? She changed her name, it’s Du Ruo now. Like in that poem, ‘gathering orchids by the fragrant isle’, Du Ruo is very literary, you know.”
Du Ruo’s cheeks burned. She stared down, fingers knotting together in her lap.
The Jing couple paused only a moment before saying, “That’s a lovely change. The name suits you.”
“Xiao Ruo,” Ming Yi tried the name out with a smile.
Then she said, “You must be tired after that train ride. How about heading up to rest early?”
Du Ruo shot to her feet. “Uncle, Auntie, I brought some local specialties for you.”
She unzipped her suitcase and pulled out a hefty smoked ham and a pile of dried sausages. “My mom made them herself, she’s really good at it.”
Ming Yi beamed. “Perfect timing! I was just craving ham, and here you are with your mom’s specialities.”
Mrs. Chen took the gifts into the kitchen.
Jing Yuanshan said, “That must’ve been heavy to haul all the way here, thank you, Xiao Ruo. It must have been a tough trip.”
Du Ruo laughed, “It wasn’t too bad.”
Jing Ming was curled up on the couch fiddling with his phone, then shot her a side-eye. “You crammed your clothes in with cured meats all the way here, are they even wearable now?”
He looked utterly disgusted, stood up, shoved his phone in his pocket, and made to leave.
Ming Yi agreed, “Good point. Jing Ming, tomorrow you go register for school with Xiao Ruo. While you’re out, help her get a few new outfits.”
Jing Ming immediately looked annoyed, the classic “Why me again?” expression on his face. He started to protest, but caught his father’s warning look, instead, he just glared and stomped upstairs.
That night, Du Ruo slept in the huge guest room, totally unaccustomed to the space. Her clothes did, in fact, smell faintly of smoked ham. The more she noticed it, the louder her stomach growled, her bowl of instant noodles long since digested.
She didn’t sneak downstairs for a late-night snack, too afraid to be a bother.
Later, she heard Jing Ming rummaging for food in the middle of the night, but she didn’t go down, either.
The next day, Du Ruo received an iPhone 6s, someone from the family’s old phone, but still nearly pristine, and a new local SIM card.
Jing Ming parked his car across from the university gate, then realized he had a problem. He’d driven a bright red sports car today, flashy as hell.
Fine, whatever.
But with Du Ruo sitting next to him? That was another story.
Du Ruo, ever perceptive, caught his hesitation. “We could just say our families are friends?”
Jing Ming turned to her. Behind his sunglasses, his face gave nothing away. “Does that sound believable?”
Du Ruo: “…”
“We could say we’re distant relatives?”
His lips curled into a smirk. “Distant? My relatives would have to be halfway across the solar system to get as…”
He trailed off. Du Ruo nodded, finishing for him, “Yeah, none of them are this broke.”
He felt zero guilt, just irritation. He dug a bank card from his pocket and handed it to her. “My mom says your living expenses are on this card. The PIN’s your birthday. I put money in for clothes, too.” He paused, eyeing her with a half-teasing squint. “You don’t need me to tag along, do you?”
She shook her head. “No need.” She started to open the door.
“Wait.”
She turned back, voice soft. “Something else?”
“If you see me at school, pretend you don’t know me.” His voice was flat and firm, almost an order. “Got that?”
Du Ruo traced a light circle on the car door with her finger and nodded. “Yeah, I heard you.”
She grabbed her luggage and climbed out of the car.
Jing Ming’s red sports car peeled away in a blaze of engine and bravado.
“As if I wanted to know you, anyway.” Du Ruo muttered under her breath, a feeble, pointless rebellion.
She refused to let him mess with her mood. Turning to face the wide campus gates across the street, she drew in a long, steadying breath. Luggage in hand, she stepped onto the pedestrian bridge, just in time to spot his flashy red sports car swinging a U-turn, roaring under the bridge and into campus. Heads turned everywhere he passed.
Once she’d crossed the bridge and set foot on campus, her heart started to flutter again, light and restless.
The avenue was long and straight, trees arching overhead, sunlight splintered into shifting patterns, exactly what a university should feel like.
A bright red banner dangled between the treetops: “Welcome, new students!”
Deeper inside, recruitment booths set up by student clubs stretched one after another. Upperclassmen laughed and shouted, handing out flyers to the freshmen.
Du Ruo accepted a pile of them, then made her way to the dorm first.
At a tech school, girls were rare, female students in science and engineering, rarer still.
Four girls to a dorm, with three different majors.
Du Ruo was studying Sensors and Control. Her two Beijing roommates, Qiu Yuchen and Xia Nan, were both in Information Engineering, while the Chongqing girl, He Huanhuan, belonged to Mechanical Automation.
All four still buzzing with excitement, they bonded instantly, first-day jitters melting away.
Qiu Yuchen was the boldest of the bunch, bubbly and sociable, she’d already made friends up and down the hallway. She burst back into their room, ready to update everyone:
“The west dorms are for the College of Literature, loads of girls, all from the same class; east side, two rooms for Mechanical Automation, two for Mechanical and Electronic Engineering.”
She finished, grinning at Du Ruo. “Congrats. You’re the only girl in your major.”
Du Ruo blinked. “Wait, how come?”
“You goofball,” Huanhuan replied, her local dialect slipping in as she snickered. “Dorm assignments go by major. There’s no one else in the neighboring dorms in your program, which means, you’re it, the one and only girl.”
“...Huh?” Du Ruo’s brain threatened to short-circuit, her expression thoroughly lost.
Xia Nan was using the dressing mirror to shape her eyebrows, speaking lazily, “And what’s wrong with being the only girl? Whole class full of guys to spoil you.”
Du Ruo sighed, “I still wish I had another girl to hang out with.” She stared hopefully at Huanhuan. “If only you’d chosen my major… if I’d known I’d be alone, I would’ve picked Mechanical Automation too.”
Huanhuan slung an arm around her. “Don’t worry, don’t worry, the minute class ends we’ll be together anyway.”
Xia Nan, inspecting her brows in the mirror, remarked, “Class schedules won’t match.” She spun the mirror to catch Du Ruo’s reflection. “Honestly, you’ve no idea how lucky you are.”
“How do you know it’s luck?” Qiu Yuchen crashed onto her chair, long legs propped up on the desk. “I walked all over campus today, didn’t see a single hot upperclassman. Where are they hiding? It’s freshman orientation, you’d think they’d show up to scope out the newbies.”
“There aren’t any campus hotties among the new students either,” Huanhuan added. “Everyone looks fried and frazzled.”
For some reason, Du Ruo’s mind flashed to Jing Ming, but she kept her lips zipped.
Next moment, Yuchen suddenly retracted her legs and flopped against the chair back, declaring, “Okay, there’s one!”
Huanhuan jabbed a finger at her, both blurting out, “The guy with the red Ferrari! , Ugh, what a show-off.” The last bit was Qiu Yuchen’s.
Du Ruo sat quietly where she was.
Oh. So everyone noticed.
Xia Nan: “Who is he?”
“No clue, probably some rich kid,” Qiu Yuchen joked. “I swear, nothing worse than someone who’s smart, rich, and, let’s be real, gorgeous.”
Xia Nan seemed unimpressed. Without seeing him in person, there just wasn’t much to say.
But that night, when all four went to the dining hall for dinner, Du Ruo finally spotted Jing Ming again.
The four of them were circled around a table, each with a different dish, sharing bites as they chatted. At the next table over, a couple girls started to whisper, “Hey, isn’t that him?”
“The red Ferrari guy.”
“Hey, where do you think he even parks that thing?”
“Who knows.”
“Our school’s got more secret bosses than I thought.”
Du Ruo looked up, just as Jing Ming and some guys from their dorm crossed the room, lunch trays in hand. Jing Ming spotted her, then looked right past her, cool as a stranger.
She ducked her head and kept eating.
The guys walked past her table, with Jing Ming right behind.
Xia Nan called out, “Hey! Jing Ming!”
He stopped. Du Ruo, head down, saw the hem of his white shirt nearly brushing her cheek. He’d changed shirts today, this one stitched with a strip of black embroidery running down the right front.
His voice dropped from above, low and lazy: “Yo, you made it in, huh?”
“Drop dead,” Xia Nan shot back, grinning, obviously used to teasing him. “But what about you? Reporting this early? I thought for sure you’d show up the last possible day.”
“Nothing to do at home,” he said, disinterested, “See ya.”
The shadow looming over Du Ruo’s head finally moved away. Her shoulders unknotted, as if a mountain had been rolled off her back.
Watching Jing Ming walk away, Huanhuan asked, “So that’s the guy Yuchen and I saw before. Xia Nan, you know him?”
“We were classmates in high school, in the same class. Even back in first year, he was the school’s reigning heartthrob. I remember when we were freshmen, senior girls would come by just to get a look at him.”
Yuchen quirked a brow and filched a snow pea from Du Ruo’s plate. “Then why didn’t you shoot your shot? You were perfectly placed.”
Xia Nan stabbed at the eggplant on Yuchen’s plate. “Please, don’t even. He was with the school queen.”