PP Chapter 11.3

As he passed through the school gate, Tang Junhe deliberately ignored Zhou Lin who was staring at him intently.

Intead, it was Yin Cong who often turned back: “Eh? Classmate, that guy at the school entrance seems to be looking at you the whole time.”

“Yes?” Tang Junhe pretended that he didn’t know.

“Doesn’t look like a nice guy.” Yin Cong answered back once more, “I think you need to be careful, your face looks like it could easily attract bad people.”

Her old-fashioned tone made Tang Junhe want to laugh a little, but in the end, he just pursed his lips.

“It’s true, my senses have always been spot on,” Yin Cong unleashed her enthusiasm eloquently, “You look petite you know, and you’re very pretty …… Just how old are you?”

“16.” Tang Junhe answered honestly.

“That’s like a year younger than most of us, you went to school early, huh?”

“I skipped a grade.”

“Wow, so cool.” Yin Cong looked at him with wide eyes, “You’re even so good at studying then.”

“There’s nothing cool about it,” Tang Junhe said. Maybe if he hadn’t skipped a grade six years ago, he wouldn’t have met a pervert like Zhou Lin, which he thought more than once.

Yin Cong led Tang Junhe two blocks ahead, pointed her arm out to a storefront, and said, “Right there, we’re almost there.”

It’s a bar? Tang Junhe thought as he looked at the front of that establishment, he hadn’t been to a bar yet. He was a little timid, but tried to play it cool.

Just as he was about to step inside, he was stopped by a waiter at the door, “Excuse me, there’s someone else booked tonight.”

“Yeah, it’s us.” Yin Cong beamed brightly at the man, “Ying Hui’s friends.”

“Oh, come in, then.” The waiter side-stepped out of the way and held out his hand to give them directions.

It was a small bar, but the inside was decorated in a chic, 90s retro style, with many posters of the country’s first generation rockers hanging on the walls. Tang Junhe couldn’t help but look up towards the four walls, he had never been in a bar before, and at this point he found everything new.

They sat down on the front stools and the other 40 or so people in the vast crowd soon arrived afterwards.

The waiter closed the door and drew the heavy, graffiti-covered curtains, blocking out all natural light in one piece. The blue-toned light came down and set the interior in a somewhat surreal mood.

Those playing Truth or Dare and those playing board games automatically split into two groups and right in front of them, on the stage comes around a long-haired guitarist from the back, sitting on a high stool and shouting out loudly to the audience, “Ying Hui come over here and sing a song.”

“Sing what?” As Ying Hui passed by, Tang Junhe heard her mutter quietly with a smile on her face.

Ying Hui sang an English song. Tang Junhe lowered his head and carefully identified the lyrics, his English was the worst of all subjects, and his listening was again the worst of all items on his English test paper.

He heard Ying Hui’s standard American accent, which is mixed in with the gentle lyrics of the song.

There were long and short tables of western food, fruit plates and snacks, and Ying Hui sang one song after another on stage, while others had no qualms about being an audience and clapping for her and cheering her on, making her look like a well-loved heroine.

Tang Junhe sat on the long couch and didn’t participate in anyone else’s game. He noticed Yang Xuan sitting on the other side of the couch, playing with his phone.

Seeing the bright light of the phone, Tang Junhe suddenly thought of Tang Xiaonian.

His mother, Tang Xiaonian, should still be waiting for him to return for dinner, Tang Junhe momentarily felt a bit of guilt, he hadn’t even thought of Tang Xiaonian after being out for so long.

“Do you have a cell phone?” Seizing the gap between Yin Cong screaming toward the stage, Tang Junhe asked her offhandedly, “Can I borrow yours for a moment?”

“A cell phone?” Yin Cong was startled, “I didn’t bring it!” She looked off to the side, “Wait a minute, I’ll borrow one for you.”

Then she rightfully saw Yang Xuan, who was playing with his phone, and immediately got up and walked over to him.

Tang Junhe instinctively tries to hold her back and say, “Forget it,” but Yin Cong moves too quickly, leaving him with an empty grasp.

His two hands on the table were clasped together from nervousness. Would Yin Cong say he was the one asking to borrow it? If she did, would Yang Xuan lend it to him?

He felt Yang Xuan glance over at him, so he lowered his head a bit more, pinching the skin on his hand uneasily.

“Here you go!” Yin Cong came from across the room and pushed the phone across the table.

The phone slid to a halt in the middle of the table, and Tang Junhe stretched out his arm to bring it over. It was the same model as the phone Yang Chengchuan had given him yesterday, only the color was black.

Tang Junhe gripped the phone and turned on the SMS function, sending a text message to Tang Xiaonian. As soon as he sent the text message, the music in his ears stopped, and then Ying Hui’s voice rang out – she was on stage calling out Yang Xuan’s name.

He looked up towards the low stage in front of him, Ying Hui stood up, looking a little nervous, but still not losing that coquettish posture, she held the microphone and said, “Yang Xuan, today is my birthday, just reward me with a song.”

He subconsciously looked over at Yang Xuan, and saw that Yang Xuan was smiling, and said a few words in a helpless manner, probably “Here we go again,” judging from his mouth.

Tang Junhe saw him stand up, pulling at the back of his shirt, and walk over to that side. Ying Hui also came down from the stage with a song list in her hand, and they stopped right at the left side of the long table – next to Tang Junhe.

“What to sing? Just let Brother Song play it for you,” Ying Hui showed him the song list, unable to hide the excitement in her voice, “See if there’s anything on the list you want to sing, or you can just request a random song and see if Brother Song can play it.”

Tang Junhe realizes that he’s still holding onto Yang Xuan’s phone – he sent the text message, and it’s time to give it back to him.

By some miracle, he reached out and touched Yang Xuan’s arm.

“Hmm?” Yang Xuan was reading the song list and didn’t look back, just uttered a single syllable with a questioning tone.

Yin Cong was there to help Tang Junhe and said, “Yang Xuan, your phone.”

Yang Xuan still didn’t look back, just reached behind him to fumble for the phone.

Ying Hui is still suggesting patiently: “Lin Yilian’s ‘Paper Flight’ is also good, why don’t you sing this? I haven’t heard the male version yet.”

(TN: The song’s original is here and I also found a male cover of this song.)

Then Yang Xuan touched the back of Tang Junhe’s hand, which was slightly cool and somewhat smooth.

Tang Junhe’s left hand, which held the phone, retracted reflexively.

“I’m sorry.” Yang Xuan thought he accidentally touched Yin Cong’s hand and turned back to apologize, then froze when he saw Tang Junhe, who was holding his phone.

Tang Junhe’s retracted hand pushed the phone towards the edge of the table and whispered, “Thank you.”

“Okay?” Ying Hui asked Yang Xuan from the sidelines.

Yang Xuan came back to his senses, took his phone and put it in his shirt pocket and said, “Not singing this.”


Translator’s Note:

Exams are finally over!!!

… I need sleep… lots of sleep…


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Mei
A Japanese language student that decided to translate Chinese Novels during the pandemic. If you want to support us, you can buy us a ko-fi. To maintain the site and support the translators as well. Thank you for reading!
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nix

It’s just a touch of a hand and simple exchange of but my heart is already full 😭 I miss their interactions, I felt like begging for crumbs from all these chapters.

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