On the morning of Lunar New Year’s Day, the first thing Tan Xiao did after getting up was wish Zhang Xingchuan a happy New Year. Zhang Xingchuan gave him a large red envelope and teased, “New Year’s lucky money.”
The Year of the Horse had officially begun. Thirty-six-year-old Zhang Xingchuan giving twenty-four-year-old Tan Xiao “lucky money for children” was obviously a joke.
But before going to sleep the previous night, Tan Xiao had received “lucky money” from Zhou Ruofei all the way across the ocean, and Zhou Ruofei was two or three years younger than Zhang Xingchuan.
Therefore, by Tan Xiao’s logic, Zhang Xingchuan giving him lucky money was completely reasonable.
He accepted without hesitation. “Thank you, President.”
“It’s New Year and you’re in my house. Stop calling me that.”
Tan Xiao thought about how he addressed Zhou Ruofei and adjusted accordingly. “Thank you, brother.”
In private, compared with the unreliable Zhou Ruofei, Zhang Xingchuan did feel much more like the friendly older brother next door.
“You…” Zhang Xingchuan had not expected that title and laughed. “The last person who called me that was my older cousin’s six-year-old daughter.”
The little girl had met Zhang Xingchuan for the first time. Her parents told her to greet him. Before anyone could teach her what title to use, she ran over, hugged his leg, and sweetly called him “big brother.”
Another sweet-tongued child, just like Tan Xiao.
Tan Xiao had lived in China for many years but possessed almost no practical experience with extended-family relationships. Chinese kinship titles still confused him. He actually considered it seriously. “Shouldn’t she call you uncle? Or maternal uncle? Anyway, she definitely shouldn’t call you brother.”
“She shouldn’t. You should,” Zhang Xingchuan said. This really was not important enough to keep debating, so he dragged the conversation back to the holiday. “Happy New Year.”
Tan Xiao, now holding a red envelope, happily replied, “Wishing you prosperity!”
For the first meal of the new year, Zhang Xingchuan boiled dumplings and tangyuan, arranged them on the dining table, then added fruit and nuts.
“I’m going to video-call my parents to wish them a happy New Year,” he told Tan Xiao. “Won’t take long. We’ll eat afterward.”
Tan Xiao sat on the living-room sofa, halfheartedly participating in a chain of New Year greetings in a classmates’ group chat. “Sure. Of course.”
Zhang Xingchuan showed his parents his breakfast, essentially proving that he was eating properly and celebrating New Year properly.
They had barely spoken for a couple of sentences when his father said he had arranged to meet friends for tea and cards and quickly disappeared from the call.
It was almost noon in Australia. Clearly the man had been waiting for Zhang Xingchuan’s New Year call and only felt comfortable going out once he received it. A classic Chinese father, saying one thing and meaning another.
Zhang Xingchuan spoke with his mother for a few more ordinary sentences.
Tan Xiao overheard her ask through the tablet, “Still by yourself this year?”
Then he saw Zhang Xingchuan frown, clearly disliking the question.
Tan Xiao thought: Oh? Even the president gets marriage pressure.
“No, not by myself.” Zhang Xingchuan was indeed tired of being asked. He glanced at Tan Xiao in the living room and suddenly had an excellent little idea. “I’ve got a little zai-zai spending New Year with me this year.”
He used a word from his hometown dialect. Zai-zai affectionately referred to a child.
What zai-zai? Which zai-zai? Tan Xiao wondered, looked up, and met Zhang Xingchuan’s eyes.
Tan Xiao pointed at himself. Me?
Zhang Xingchuan’s scheme was already underway. Smiling, he asked, “Zai-zai, mind if I flip the camera and let Ms. Jiang see you?”
Under ordinary circumstances, the request would have been slightly rude. But it was New Year. In front of Zhang Xingchuan’s mother, Tan Xiao was simply a young guest visiting her son. There was no reason to refuse.
And Tan Xiao had no social anxiety whatsoever. Greeting a friend’s mother and wishing her a happy New Year was trivial. He nodded.
Zhang Xingchuan flipped the video from the front camera to the back, pointing it toward Tan Xiao in the living room.
Tan Xiao waved at the iPad. “Hello, Auntie. Happy New Year.”
Zhang Xingchuan’s mother, Ms. Jiang, wore reading glasses. She had been smiling while chatting with her son. When she heard there was a “zai-zai” at the house, she automatically assumed Zhang Xingchuan had gotten a pet. It could not possibly mean Zhang Xingchuan had somehow acquired a human child overnight. Besides, calling pets “zai-zai” was common enough.
So she waited for Zhang Xingchuan to flip the camera and expected to see a cute cat or dog.
Instead, without warning, there was a very handsome young man sitting in the living room.
Ms. Jiang completely froze. For several seconds, she neither moved nor spoke.
Zhang Xingchuan knew exactly what had happened and that his plan had worked. He was annoyed about being pressured to marry and had decided to turn the tables on his mother with a harmless little joke. He pretended concern. “Hm? Is the internet bad? Did it freeze?”
Tan Xiao had not understood the scheme at all. Still waving politely like a lucky cat, he asked, “What happened? Did the video freeze?”
The iPad finally produced Ms. Jiang’s voice. “Hello… Happy New Year.”
Zhang Xingchuan introduced him. “His name is Tan Xiao. He’s doing a PhD at Qing University.”
Ms. Jiang froze again for a few seconds. “Still a student? Good. Good, good.”
Tan Xiao felt it was slightly impolite to greet an elder from so far away, so he got up and walked over.
The fact that Zhang Xingchuan had brought a young man home for New Year had already knocked Ms. Jiang’s soul halfway out of her body.
Zhang Xingchuan, meanwhile, was struggling not to laugh now that his prank had succeeded. Seeing Tan Xiao come over, he shifted aside so Tan Xiao could fit in the frame and Ms. Jiang could get a better look.
Tan Xiao finally saw Ms. Jiang on the screen and could not help admiring her. What an elegant auntie. Zhang Xingchuan’s eyes and brows resembled hers. She must have been an extraordinary beauty when young.
Zhang Xingchuan had already flipped the camera back to front-facing. He was sitting beside the dining table with the tablet. Tan Xiao stood close beside him and bent slightly so his whole face would fit in frame. Their faces were less than an inch apart.
From Ms. Jiang’s side, the two of them looked exactly like a couple taking a close-up selfie.
Tan Xiao greeted her brightly again. “Happy New Year! Auntie, my home is far from Beijing, so I came to bother Zhang… bother Brother Xingchuan for New Year.”
He had almost said President Zhang, but that sounded far too distant. The new title that escaped instead sounded unbearably intimate.
Zhang Xingchuan felt a shiver and looked at Tan Xiao speechlessly.
Tan Xiao noticed and, slightly embarrassed, smiled back at him.
Ms. Jiang could no longer bear the image. Dizzy, she removed her reading glasses and said vaguely, “Happy New Year. You two eat first. We’ll talk another time.”
Zhang Xingchuan ended the call. Tan Xiao sat down in the chair beside him. “Auntie is so beautiful. Her temperament is excellent too.”
“Of course. She’s my mother.” Zhang Xingchuan accepted the compliment happily, then said, “Sorry. I suddenly made you talk to her. I thought of it on the spot. I should have warned you first.”
“I don’t mind. Even if you hadn’t called me over, I would have wanted to greet her. Wishing elders a happy New Year is only proper.”
The little episode ended. Zhang Xingchuan signaled that they could eat and introduced the breakfast. “The dumplings were made by the house auntie ahead of time and frozen. Three-delicacy filling. The tangyuan are store-bought frozen ones, black sesame.”
Tan Xiao chose dumplings.
After eating, Tan Xiao voluntarily cleared the dishes. Zhang Xingchuan began thinking about what the two of them could do today or where they might go.
When Tan Xiao came back from the kitchen, however, he announced he should leave. He did not want to disturb Zhang Xingchuan’s New Year plans and intended to return to school.
Zhang Xingchuan asked him to stay again.
“You saw it. The aunties are off these two days,” Zhang Xingchuan said. “I have to cook anyway. Making food for two is actually easier.”
“Don’t you need to visit relatives and friends? Won’t people come here to pay New Year visits?”
Zhang Xingchuan looked Tan Xiao up and down in theatrical shock. “Zai-zai, did you block Brother Xingchuan on Moments?”
“Of course not. I just rarely scroll Moments.” Tan Xiao immediately pulled out his phone and opened Zhang Xingchuan’s page.
Two days earlier, WenCheng’s President’s Office had begun its Spring Festival holiday that afternoon. That evening Zhang Xingchuan had posted:
Staying home and resting over Spring Festival. We’ll gather after the holiday. Wishing everyone a Year of the Horse full of galloping success and renewal in all things. — WenCheng, Zhang Xingchuan
“I’ve been wondering forever,” Tan Xiao said. “Why do personal announcements from entrepreneurs always sound AI-generated?”
Zhang Xingchuan answered seriously, “I’m merely learning comprehensive communication skills from Teacher AI.”
Tan Xiao gave him a thumbs-up.
Zhang Xingchuan had very few chances all year to enjoy three quiet days. His parents and close relatives were not in Beijing, and he had even less desire to spend the holiday buried in social obligations.
So Tan Xiao stopped declining and happily stayed to spend the New Year holiday with him.
Zhang Xingchuan suggested going out and gave Tan Xiao the choice of destination.
Tan Xiao said, “Is there anywhere you want to go? I’ll go with you. If I choose, I’d rather stay home and play on my phone.”
On the first day of the lunar year, many places were closed. Places that were open were usually packed.
“Want to go to Universal Studios?” Zhang Xingchuan suggested. “There probably won’t be many people today.”
“There really won’t. I went this day last year. You could ride the same attraction several times in a row. If you want to go, I can go with you.”
“Forget it. Somewhere else.”
“Forbidden City?” Tan Xiao said. “One year I went early in the morning. If you arrive early, it isn’t crowded. But…” He checked the time regretfully. “It’s too late now. After ten, the Forbidden City is about to be attacked by a hundred million people.”
Zhang Xingchuan ran out of ideas too. “What did you do this day last year?” Tan Xiao asked. “Did you go somewhere with anyone?”
“No. No one. I didn’t feel like going out either.” Zhang Xingchuan pointed outside. “I diligently planted some flowers.”
Tan Xiao followed his gesture.
The double-height living room had a six-meter floor-to-ceiling window. Outside was a small garden. In winter there was only bare grass.
But the garden had clearly been carefully designed, with brick and stone arranged at different levels and different soil in separate areas. This was clearly a garden someone had taken seriously.
“Did the previous owner, the painter, leave this too?”
“No. It used to be a glass room. The painter used it as an art space. It was useless to me, so I demolished it and made a garden.”
“Where are the flowers?” Tan Xiao asked. “Didn’t you diligently plant them last year? Didn’t like them, so you cleared them out?”
“No. I diligently planted them wrong. They all died.”
Tan Xiao burst out laughing.
Zhang Xingchuan said helplessly, “I asked professionals afterward. The timing was wrong. Some bulbs should be planted in autumn. Some cuttings are better in April. I learned the lesson. Last autumn I planted some peony tubers. No idea whether they’ll bloom. Once the weather warms up, if I have time, I’ll try planting something else.”
Tan Xiao nodded. “Then I wish you and your flowers prosperity in full bloom.”
Zhang Xingchuan felt gardening might seem like an old-person hobby to Tan Xiao and assumed he was not interested, so he stopped discussing it. “If we’re staying in, that’s fine too. The game console is upstairs.”
Tan Xiao shot to his feet. “Yes!”
In the end, the two spent the entire day at home playing The Legend of Zelda.
A listed-company president and a third-year doctoral student were both normally busy beyond reason. During Spring Festival, they finally played games without guilt and forgot both food and sleep.
Speaking of food.