Whispers of the Tulip Alley: My Most Beautiful Lady

It was yet another dusk after a day's toil. Aboard the 86 bus, I traced my way back to Tulip Road, where my dwelling nestled itself within a modest alley merely 50 meters from the bus stand. The ambiance, though lacking opulence, claimed victory in its serenity. Notably, since the advent of a quaint coffee haven named 'Mood' last year, the vicinity became a refuge for many corporate souls averse to the clamor and frenetic pace of urban existence. As night approached, they'd converge here for a cup of coffee, seemingly immersed in a gentle melody, momentarily detached from worldly vexations. Within the alley, I nonchalantly unfastened my tie, draping it over my shoulder. In the direction of the coffee sanctuary, I had arranged a rendezvous with Chen Yi post her office hours. The coffee abode, petite in stature, boasted a mere scattering of seats adjacent to the bar and a line of benches. All positions leaned towards the windows, where patrons immersed themselves in a profound silence. It was as though no soul dared to unveil the fragility of life over a cup of coffee. Gradually, this ambiance etched itself as the coffee den's distinctive hallmark. Despite the alley's obscurity, it not only endured but thrived on this unique essence. Chen Yi had preceded my arrival at the coffee haven. Her coiffure, an impeccable bun, bore witness to the rigors of a day's broadcast. She adorned herself in an elegant white ensemble, likely a vestige from her recent televised appearance, stepping in to honor our scheduled meeting. With a casual toss, my attache found its place on the table as I seated myself opposite her, inquiring, "What have you been engrossed in of late? It's been several days since our paths last crossed." Chen Yi tucked a few disheveled strands of hair behind her ear, lifting the coffee cup for a sip. "Our station had a reality show filming in Hangzhou, so I went on a business trip for a few days." "Oh," I responded, then beckoned the waiter and ordered a bottle of beer. Though today's meeting with Chen Yi was ostensibly about work, there existed no one in this world more familiar to me than her. We both hailed from Rainflower Terrace in Nanjing, and more significantly, we grew up as childhood friends in this very alley. Before she ventured to Beijing for the Communication University of China, we shared an everyday existence, constantly in each other's company. Subsequently, I joined a wedding planning company, and she, far more accomplished than me, secured a position at the local television station. Now, she had become a well-known host. I finished the bottle of beer, treating it as a refreshing beverage in the summer heat. However, I hesitated to broach the subject of work. I simply wanted to spend more time with Chen Yi, as in recent years, our closeness had dwindled. Chen Yi scrutinized me for a while, finally asking with curiosity, "Jiang Qiao, didn't you invite me out to discuss collaboration? Why haven't you mentioned anything about it?" "Before we delve into work, I wanted to ask you something," I said. "Go ahead, ask," she replied. "Miss me, Jiang Qiao, with my perennial sunshine handsomeness, always ready to help, morally upright, excelling in intellect, physique, aesthetics, and labor? I was a model student, beloved by teachers, annually adorned with the school's Outstanding Red Scarf accolade. So... I want to ask you: When so many unfair advantages converge in one person, did you ever have a moment of infatuation, secretly harboring a crush on me, envisioning me as your dream prince charming?" Chen Yi gave me a disdainful glance and retorted, "No... Can you please not start every meeting like a stand-up comedy routine? What happened to discussing collaboration?" "Come on, so many girls liked me. You must have drowned in their 'I won't marry anyone but him' fantasies and felt a bit inferior," I teased. Unwilling to entertain my banter, Chen Yi lifted her coffee for a sip, then gazed at the lush phoenix trees at the end of the alley. "Fine, fine, fine... Let's talk about collaboration," she conceded. Chen Yi, devoid of much emotion, looked at me. In her eyes, I was someone who rarely engaged in serious work discussions with her. I sat upright, finally adopting a serious tone. "Our company secured a major wedding event from a prominent client yesterday. They specifically requested you as the host, and the appearance fee is 60,000. I negotiated this with the boss for you... Hehe, doesn't it show that I, Jiang Qiao, can occasionally do something reliable?" After saying these words, I felt a sense of accomplishment. Over the years, I had been somewhat invisible in her world, unable to contribute much. While this might not be a significant favor, it at least proved that I still had some impact. Initially, the boss was only willing to offer a 50,000 appearance fee, and Chen Yi had previously hosted a corporate event for a similar price. Chen Yi, indeed, showed a slight surprise but responded, "Jiang Qiao, here's the thing. The station recently issued a notice to rectify inappropriate practices and strictly prohibits in-house hosts from taking private gigs. I've signed a commitment, so I can't take on this wedding hosting opportunity." I suddenly felt upset and said, "This is a company matter and part of my performance targets. Can't you help me with my workload?" "I'm not refusing to help. It's just that the station issued such a notice, and there's nothing I can do," Chen Yi explained. My wounded pride took a hit, feeling the absurdity of my self-conceit. My tone elevated a few notches. "Chen Yi, don't make me think you lack compassion, okay?" Chen Yi looked at me, silent, seemingly reiterating through her silence that she wouldn't assist with this favor, no room for negotiation. My frustration intensified, and I pressed on, "I'm not happy right now. Can you just give me a straightforward answer? Can you or can't you host this wedding?" "Jiang Qiao, can you be more mature? Since I've signed a commitment with the station, I need to uphold contractual obligations. Also, when it comes to work matters, it's best not to bring personal emotions into the conversation. That way, we won't make things awkward or difficult for each other." Angry and exasperated, I forced out, "I'm not satisfied right now. Can you just give me a clear answer? Can you or can't you host this wedding?" "Jiang Qiao, you need to mature a bit. Since I've signed a commitment with the station, I must uphold the spirit of the contract. Besides, when it comes to work matters, it's best not to mix personal feelings into it. That way, we won't make things awkward or difficult for each other." Fuming, I sarcastically nodded and said, "Alright, every word you say is logical. I'm just a big fool. So, even if I'm immature and lack commitment, can we move on from this issue?" Chen Yi responded emotionlessly, "I've explained my predicament to you. If you choose to be upset or emotional about it, there's nothing I can do." Frustrated and angry, not caring about the consequences, I slapped my chest and declared, "Chen Yi, listen carefully. I, Jiang Qiao, will say something audacious today. If you can't host it, that's fine. After all, there's more than one renowned host, and I can afford to let go of this 60,000. If I ever bring up this matter again, you'll be my grandmother, and I'll be your grandson!" ... Leaving the coffee shop named "Mood," all my emotions vanished in an instant, replaced by a deep-seated frustration I couldn't vent. I felt incredibly sad, truly saddened, and now found myself somewhat ridiculous. Prior to tonight's scene, I had taken myself too seriously, thinking I held significant weight in Chen Yi's heart. Yet, it amounted to no more than a signed commitment. Standing in the alley, I watched Chen Yi's figure leave the coffee shop. She gradually disappeared along the cobblestone path, blending with the night. I felt a sense of unreality, as if her silhouette lingered deep within the alley, resembling a woman from the 1930s old Nanjing, stunning in a qipao. Chen Yi was like that. Growing up in an intellectual family, she learned music, dance, and painting, acquiring a multitude of talents and the composed demeanor of a refined lady. Yet, these were now distant attributes, unreachable for me. I had never been a gentleman; my approach was simple—smile when happy, show frustration when not. Night's moisture had dampened the alley, and no one passed through. Only the vintage streetlamp overhead emitted a dim light, seemingly a pair of lovers separated by space. They faced each other every day, quietly, but only when the night wind blew did they brush shoulders, repeating the silent encounter. These lonely secrets about them were understood by only one person in the alley – me. ... Finally back home, the iron lock on the wooden door echoed the melancholy in my heart. Even the osmanthus tree at the entrance no longer exuded its fragrance. The dew clung to the leaves, resembling figures gazing up at the cool moonlight. Yet, the daytime heat still lingered in the air, and I suddenly felt somewhat sickly in this alternating cold and hot night. Unlocking and pushing open the door, I was astonished at what I saw. A side profile, beautiful to the point of loneliness, as if painted by a brushstroke. She wore a white lace dress, holding a watering can, standing by the flower bed I had planted. I struggled to describe this figure that seemed to have fallen into the flowers under the moonlight. The loneliness in my heart was ignited in the spark of a moment. She noticed me, and I finally snapped out of it, rushing towards her. I snatched the watering can from her hand, shouting, "Stop, stop... This is aloe. You'll drown it if you water it like this!" She quickly withdrew her hand. Frowning, I looked at her. She was indeed a real girl, probably in her early twenties. Yet, she was remarkably beautiful, making me momentarily mistake her for a fairy fallen into the mortal realm. However, even her dress wasn't ancient silk but a modern summer dress, radiating a contemporary vibe. Chewing gum in her mouth, she didn't seem very well-behaved. With a stern face, I asked her, "Who are you, and how did you enter my yard?" She didn't answer, instead reaching out to touch the mural I had painted on the wall. Smiling, she asked, "You designed this courtyard with such artistic flair. You must be a lonely person deep down, right?" "Don't change the subject..." She didn't let me continue and replied with a romantic smile, "I know your name is Jiang Qiao, right? You've said it yourself, the relationships between people are just a game. Today, I came to find you, and it's the beginning of a game. After all, I wouldn't come to you for no reason. There's no fairy falling from the sky for you to pick up. Nanjing is a city full of cars, trains, exorbitant housing prices – clearly not a place for creating fairy tales, right, Jiang Qiao?" Her response left me feeling completely exposed, yet I couldn't recall who she was. However, I did enjoy likening relationships between people to a game. She seemed to understand even these small details, while I was utterly unable to explain everything happening at this moment.