(1)
Lunch was some leftover cold dishes from yesterday, plus two new ones she’d whipped up—both pretty homey, one being stir-fried green beans and the other stir-fried bitter melon.
Everything was a vibrant green, looking every bit like summer on a plate.
“Xiao Jing, so you went to see the house—how was it?” “Amazing! I can’t wait to move in!”
“Heh heh… your father put a lot of thought into making sure you’d like it.”
An Jing heard her grandfather’s words and immediately shot a glance at her father, who casually looked away without a word.
“Dad, this bitter melon is stir-fried really well, it’s barely bitter at all.”
“How is it not bitter?!” Fooled into taking a bite to test it, An Jing’s face twisted up so badly she nearly spat her tongue out. “Eww—it’s so bitter!” “Hahaha, kids can’t handle even a hint of bitterness.”
“Maybe it’s not that this year’s bitter melon isn’t bitter—perhaps your tongue just isn’t as sensitive as last year’s.” Grandfather chuckled along.
“Thank you, thank you, wishing you wealth and prosperity!”
The gray parrot in its cage seemed to want to show off its presence, squawking along randomly.
“Cai Qi.” Father rested his arm on the back of the chair, turned half around with a smile, and looked at the big parrot locked in its cage during mealtime. “Say something else for us.” “Rise in rank, get rich! Rise in rank, get rich!” Father couldn’t help but laugh.
Grandfather shook his head helplessly too.
Some of those phrases weren’t actually taught by him—sometimes when the TV was on, the parrot would just pick things up on its own.
That phrase, for example, was probably learned from those Qing Dynasty dramas they’d been watching recently.
“Famine relief grain, rise in rank, get rich! Famine relief grain, rise in rank, get rich!” “Where on earth did it pick that up from.” Grandfather shook his head helplessly.
Father suddenly seemed to remember something and looked back at Grandfather: “Dad, I heard Old Li passed away a couple days ago.” “Old Li? That Old Li?”
“Yeah, the one who retired after you—you could say he was your old rival back in the day.” “Rival? We were friends.” Grandfather smiled bitterly and shook his head. “Though it’s true we haven’t been in touch for a few years. Life is unpredictable—he worked himself far harder than I ever did.”
“A life spent pushing too hard always comes due eventually.”
Father and Grandfather started chatting about work-related topics, and An Jing had no interest in that, so she scraped the last bit of rice from her bowl, got up, and dashed over to the fridge to grab a carton of cold milk.
“Grandfather, Dad, I’m heading upstairs.” “Alright, go ahead.”
“An Jing, was it hot last night? If so, feel free to turn on the AC.”
“It’s fine, a fan is enough for these few days!” An Jing stabbed the straw into the milk carton, took two loud slurps, then slipped on her shoes, opened the door with a clatter, and thundered up to the second floor in one breath.
“This girl’s still such a tomboy.”
“Old habits die hard.” Father shook his head with a smile.
(2)
The windows on the second floor were all open for ventilation, so it wasn’t too stuffy, but it was still hot—though the sweat at this point didn’t feel unpleasant.
An Jing kicked off her shoes at the bedroom door and hopped barefoot into the room. The painted cement floor was warmed by the sun, making her feel like a frog slowly being roasted. Yesterday, she’d also hauled the computer from the living room in here—taking it apart had felt satisfying and effortless, but now that it was time to put it back together, she was feeling a bit lazy.
Especially when she looked at all those tangled cables.
But some things just had to be done.
She crouched down, rummaged through the plastic bags, and dumped the contents out.
“Okay… this one goes to the monitor, this is the speaker, where does this go? The PC power? Then this should be the monitor power… forgot, I’ll just test it directly later, then the mouse… keyboard, maybe I’ll just buy a new one. Last time I saw a set online for only fifty bucks, just not sure if it’s any good…”
An Jing muttered to herself, sorting each item into its proper category, then picked up the computer tower she’d already wiped down when taking it apart.
Sure, she’d wiped it, but only the surface—when she shook it, a bit of dust clinging to the fan still fluttered out.
“Put it on the desk? Or under the desk? No, there’s no plug port underneath. There is one on top, but that’s for a desk lamp. Not enough sockets, so I’ll need a power strip…” A lot of things are like this—dreading them before you start, then realizing once you begin that it’s not hard at all, and might even be enjoyable.
When An Jing finished setting up the computer on Grandfather’s desk and adjusted the keyboard position, she was drenched in sweat but felt absolutely wonderful.
She couldn’t move the entire room from her sisters’ apartment over here, but bringing the computer made it feel like half the room had come along.
The only downside, probably, was… this was an old-fashioned writing desk.
Not a computer desk.
The keyboard couldn’t slide into a drawer—it had to sit on top, which made the already small desk space even more cramped.
If she needed to write something, she’d have to push the monitor and keyboard inward, otherwise there’d be no room to put pen to paper.
An Jing mulled it over for ages without finding a better solution, and finally just threw her hands up: “Meh, forget it, this works!” But just as she was about to sit down, she froze.
Because… this house hadn’t been designed with a network jack either.
So An Jing’s Ethernet cable was now surplus.
“No internet…” She grimaced and clutched her forehead in pain. “Maybe I should put it in Grandfather’s study? There might be internet there.” She mumbled and hurried over to Grandfather’s study, and when she spotted the old computer tucked away in a corner box, her heart leapt with joy.
However…
There was indeed a new computer in the study, but it was only relatively newer—the monitor was a bulky CRT, and the tower was big and clunky too.
Next to it sat a landline phone that looked like it was for dial-up internet.
But when An Jing picked it up, she discovered the phone line had already been cut.
That meant even dial-up was out of the question.
An Jing sighed. “I’ll ask Grandfather about it later.”
Even if they were going to install internet eventually, clearly it wasn’t happening today.
An Jing returned to her room, turned on the computer, stared at the disconnected network icon and the browser that showed nothing when opened, and felt a profound sense of loneliness wash over her.
She really wasn’t used to turning on her computer and not being able to get online.
So much so that she kept absentmindedly opening QQ multiple times—opening it, closing it, then instinctively opening it again, snapping back to reality, and closing it once more…
All her games were online multiplayer, and she didn’t have a single downloaded movie or novel stored on the machine. After all, she was the type to fully embrace the internet—she always felt that unless absolutely necessary, there was no reason to store anything locally.
So… now she was completely stuck.
But at least there was music.
At the very least, this computer could play songs.
When the Jay Chou song <Sweet> started playing, her restless heart gradually calmed down.
It was one of Zhu Ying’s favorite songs—whenever she listened to it, she felt like she was right there by her side.
“The computer’s all set up, but… I’m so bored—” An Jing leaned back in her chair, even regretting having bothered to set the computer up.
Now that it was sitting in front of her but unusable, she found herself unable to settle down and read any of the old books in Mother’s bookshelf either.
At times like this, she’d rather use the computer to draw and just zone out her brain…
When Father knocked on An Jing’s bedroom door, she had just set a picture she’d drawn earlier—a mess of color blocks that looked like spilled paint—as her desktop wallpaper.
“An Jing.”
“Ah, Dad, what’s up?”
Father always called her by her full name, which sometimes felt a bit distant. She opened her mouth to say something, but in the end, swallowed the suggestion back down.
Hearing her father call her ‘Xiao Jing’ just felt… off somehow.
“Nothing, just checking what you’re up to.”
“Setting up my computer. There’s no internet here, so a lot of stuff doesn’t work.”
“Installing broadband here isn’t convenient either—the wiring is a hassle.” Father rubbed his chin. “Just bear with it. It’s only one summer vacation. The new house will definitely have internet, and we’ll get the fastest one available.”
“How fast?”
“Ten-meg fiber optic! How’s that? Fast enough?” “That fast?!” An Jing’s eyes were practically sparkling.
“By the way, here’s a ticket package for you.”
“What’s this?” An Jing looked at the shiny holographic ticket Father pulled from his pocket, peering at it curiously. “It’s a concert ticket for up to four people—basically a family package. The seats are pretty good, front rows. Someone gave it to me as a gift. I’m not really interested in that sort of thing, and I figured you young folks would enjoy it.”
“So whose concert is it? Jay Chou? Isn’t he performing in S City these days?”
“Not Jay Chou, someone else—a band.” “Mayday? Flower Band? Or someone else?”
“Pretty much in the same vein as those, pretty famous lately.” Father glanced down at the shimmering colored text on the ticket. “Oh, right—Snow Sound.”
“Snow Sound!” An Jing excitedly took the stiff concert ticket. “I’ve heard of them! Though I feel like their arrangements aren’t quite as good—there’s a bit of a gap compared to the others.”
“Haha, I wouldn’t know about that, but I assume you young people like them well enough.” “Of course I do! Xiao Ying’s been getting into Snow Sound lately too—she seems to really like that one member, Hua Yinyin.” “Anyway, bring some friends along if you can. Check the specific time on the ticket.”
“August second, at the Silver Dragon Sports Center—that’s over a month away.” An Jing excitedly ran her fingers over the ticket, feeling its embossed texture. “Thanks, Dad, for getting this! But is it okay if I don’t bring a full four people?”
“It’s for up to four. You can go with just two, or even by yourself—just keep it somewhere safe, don’t lose it. I’m heading out now.” “Off to work?”
“Yeah, I need to stop by the office this afternoon—can’t stay out forever.” “Ohh… when’s the next time you’ll come?”
“Next time I’m free, we’ll see! Gotta go.”
“Bye, Dad!” An Jing held up the beautiful ticket and waved it energetically. She couldn’t wait to share the great news with Zhu Ying.