Act with Impunity – Chapter 8

The thirty-five-minute drive was much faster than imagined. Before long, Su Xu parked the car downstairs from Tan Xingwei’s apartment building.

A few streetlights lined the road by the apartment. Perhaps because it was the weekend, it looked very deserted.

“Is this the place provided by the company?” Su Xu asked.

Tan Xingwei unbuckled her seatbelt. “Yes, it’s quite far from my family’s home. There’s no direct subway or bus, so I’d have to make several transfers. It’s inconvenient for me to go home, so I applied for a room. I stay here on weekdays and go home on weekends.” She thought for a moment and added, “Just like my sister.”

Su Xu: “She was transferred to Qing County last year.”

Tan Xingwei: “Yeah, living alone makes it easier for her to follow her idols. She’s been to many offline events. Mom and Dad can’t control her.”

Su Xu smiled and asked, “Do you have any hobbies?”

Tan Xingwei thought for a moment. “I’ve been doing jigsaw puzzles recently.”

Su Xu: “Sounds like you have many hobbies.”

Tan Xingwei: “It’s a fleeting interest. I don’t love it as much as I did at the beginning.”

Su Xu: “You must not have found a puzzle you like. It’s the puzzle’s fault.”

Tan Xingwei burst out laughing.

See? This person just dotes on her like this. Really, honestly.

They had been parked for a long time, and it felt strange to keep chatting like this. There wasn’t much else to talk about anyway. Tan Xingwei said goodbye, got out of the car, and just like that afternoon, didn’t look back.

On her way upstairs, Tan Xingwei picked up her phone out of boredom and noticed a new comment on her social media feed.

It was a picture of coffee she had taken at her desk a couple of days ago. A junior from her university had left a comment below: “Goddess, what a coincidence! I drank the same thing today!”

Tan Xingwei tapped reply: “Is that so? What a coincidence.”

Putting her phone away, she walked a few more steps, and Tan Xingwei suddenly smiled.

The thought of how she, someone called a ‘goddess’ by others, became such an overthinking, timid person in front of Su Xu was just laughable.

Let’s just call it her exclusive persona for Su Xu. It’s decided, and no one is allowed to say otherwise.

Tan Xingwei did have some unfinished work. Since she was back at her apartment anyway, she decided to turn on her computer and open the proposal she hadn’t finished writing yesterday.

She rarely worked in the middle of the weekend. She would either work overtime on Friday to get things done or do a final sprint on Sunday night. Working in the middle of a Saturday gave her an unsettling, in-between feeling, as if she couldn’t enjoy the weekend properly.

But today, she rarely felt that way. She was in a good mood today.

A good mood meant a clear mind. The part she had been stuck on yesterday, unable to write properly, she finished in just half an hour after getting back.

After polishing the final proposal, Tan Xingwei saved it, uploaded it, and shut down her computer with satisfaction. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, showered, did her skincare routine, got into bed, and turned off the light.

The world suddenly fell silent. With nothing to keep her hands busy, her mind began to race wildly.

Thinking about the airport pickup in the afternoon, the late-night snack in the evening, the ride back, the image of them side by side, the image of them chatting, the words they said, their…

“Sigh…”

After tossing and turning for the umpteenth time, Tan Xingwei let out a long sigh.

She couldn’t sleep again.

If she couldn’t sleep, then she wouldn’t. With a burst of resolve, Tan Xingwei turned on her desk lamp, propped a cushion against her pillow, sat up, and picked up her phone, opening Weibo.

Yes, she had thought of something else.

Opening Weibo, she went to the switch accounts page and tapped on “AXXX725919”.

It had been over two years since Tan Xingwei had last opened this account. The last time was during the Lunar New Year two years ago. For some reason, she had thought of Su Xu on New Year’s Eve, so she logged into this account and posted a Weibo at midnight, wishing everyone a Happy New Year.

And the first time she used this account was during her freshman year of university.

One afternoon, after class, with plenty of time to spare and no desire to return to her dorm, she went to a newly opened café near the university. While ordering, she saw a tea on the menu called “Spring Willow Catkins (chūn rì liǔ xù).”

It had the character ‘Xu’ in it.

Longing surged within her, and when the “Spring Willow Catkins” tea was served, she had a sudden whim and registered a Weibo account.

An idea that came on a whim, one that could be realized with just a few taps, was always quick to come to fruition.

She quickly registered a temporary email address and used it to create a Weibo account. After the application was successful, she named it with the capitalized first letters of ‘Ah Xu’ and ‘Xingxing’. When she found the name was taken, she added both of their birthdays. Then, she set the profile picture to a photo she had taken at Su Xu’s house of Su Xu’s favorite little doll, and used a picture of her own favorite little doll as the background.

The whole process took less than ten minutes.

It was also that afternoon that she wrote the first story about her and Ah Xu on Weibo, starting with, “The first time I saw her was on my eighteenth birthday…”

Her intention in creating the Weibo account was simply to properly record what she could still remember at the time. Unexpectedly, as she kept writing, she started gaining followers.

Gradually, many people came to read her stories, wait for her stories, and analyze her stories.

In the comment section, they asked: “Do you update daily?”, “Updating today?”, and also “Is this a true story?”

They also said: “A secret crush is so bittersweet”, “Sister A is so wonderful”, and “I’m going to be charmed to death by Sister A!”

And also: “So sweet!”, “Little X, are you sure it’s one-sided?”, “I think Sister A likes you too”.

From that day on, Tan Xingwei’s university life was filled with many friends she had never met.

Her stories with Su Xu weren’t numerous, but she wrote many posts over many days. She wrote about dreaming of Su Xu on the night of her birthday, and in the dream, Su Xu celebrated her birthday with her again, just the two of them.

She wrote about how Su Xu appeared at her house the day after her birthday.

During summer vacation, Tan Xingwei had a poor sense of time, but looking back, she could instantly recall that it was a weekend.

That weekend, Tan Yinqing and Su Xu, along with a few friends, had planned to go for a barbecue at the beach.

Su Xu came to the house for no other reason than that she was driving and would pick up Tan Yinqing on the way. But Tan Yinqing, that dawdling woman, had no sense of time and was still putting on her makeup.

It was against this backdrop that Tan Xingwei had her second encounter with Su Xu.

She had no sense of time either, only getting out of bed close to noon. She walked out of her room with sleepy eyes, messy hair, and disheveled clothes.

First glance, Su Xu said, “Morning, Xingxing.”

Second glance, Tan Xingwei had vanished.

After a few minutes of emergency image management, Tan Xingwei emerged from her room again. Tan Yinqing was already in the living room, and Su Xu had stood up.

Hearing the noise, Tan Yinqing turned her head and said to Tan Xingwei, “You’re up. I ordered food for you. I won’t be home for lunch, and Mom and Dad will be back tonight.”

Before Tan Xingwei could respond, Tan Yinqing hooked her arm through Su Xu’s and left.

It was Su Xu who said, “Will your little sister be okay at home by herself?”

Tan Yinqing: “She’s so grown up, what could go wrong?” Then she turned her head and added, “If anything happens, call me.”

Behind Tan Yinqing’s back, Tan Xingwei silently bared her teeth, wrinkled her nose, and mimicked her sister’s words. Just as her expression was at its most exaggerated, Su Xu turned her head.

Their eyes met. Tan Xingwei performed emergency expression management.

Su Xu instantly broke into a smile. In a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft, she said to Tan Yinqing, “Your little sister is so cute.”

Tan Yinqing looked back, confused. “What’s up with her?”

Tan Xingwei was the picture of innocence, even wearing a smile.

Su Xu’s eyes curved as she smiled. “I’m not telling you.”

A thousand readers, a thousand different feelings. Tan Xingwei felt her story was as plain as water, yet the netizens were full of emotion, even more so than Tan Xingwei herself.

With every post, they seemed to love more passionately than Tan Xingwei did.

So at the end of the story, they felt the pity more keenly than she did.

The last time she logged into Weibo wasn’t two years ago. It was on a day in the second half of last year when her phone suddenly received a text from her email provider, saying she hadn’t logged into her email account for a year and that it would be reclaimed if there was no activity within three days.

It was only then that Tan Xingwei realized she hadn’t thought about Su Xu in a long time. The last time was this time, and the time before that was in the second half of the year before last. It was the same situation: the email provider sent a text about reclaiming the account, and she dealt with it.

Of course, she also understood that not thinking about her didn’t mean she had forgotten. Everything about Su Xu had been placed in a small box. Because there were no new memories, this small box was left untouched, gradually gathering dust in a corner.

But it was always there, constantly there, unchangeably there.

No matter how much time passed, Tan Xingwei’s heart would still race because of Su Xu, even if all she was facing now was a small Weibo account.

The dust on the small box was blown away, and its beautiful and intricate patterns were suddenly revealed.

After she tapped on “AXXX725919”, a loading circle appeared, and a moment later, the screen changed.

Tan Xingwei stared intently at the screen as the words “Please enter your password” popped up.

…

I’m doomed.

What was it again?

It didn’t ask for a password the last few times.

Tan Xingwei first tried entering a few of her usual passwords. When those didn’t work, she searched through her phone’s notes and her WeChat Favorites.

What was it…

Just as Tan Xingwei was about to click “Forgot Password,” she had a flash of inspiration.

“xingxingaxu1314”.

The loading circle appeared again. 0.1 seconds later, she was on the Weibo homepage.

Tan Xingwei tossed her phone aside and flopped face-down onto her quilt.

In the future, when you forget your password, please don’t try to force yourself to remember. Please click “Forgot Password”. One small action for the happiness of you, me, and everyone.

After she had calmed down, Tan Xingwei picked up her phone again.

There were some comments, some private messages, some new friends, and some old friends.

Asking if she was still updating. Asking if there was a follow-up to the story. Asking if the blogger was about to graduate. Asking if the blogger was abandoning the account.

Tan Xingwei hadn’t abandoned it.

She tapped the plus sign on the homepage and wrote in the blank space, “She’s back.”

After the short sentence in bold text remained on the page for a long five seconds, Tan Xingwei tapped the top-right corner and sent the Weibo post.

Unexpectedly, there were still so many people online in the middle of the night. In just a short while, comments started to appear.

A little while later, the comments flooded in like a tsunami.

“Ahhhh??? What? What am I seeing?”

“Ahhhh, Little X, you’re alive!”

“Grandma! Grandma! The blogger you follow has updated!”

“What? Who? What does this mean? Sister A is back?”

“Who? Sister A is back in the country????”

“What? What was it again? I’ve almost forgotten your story, I’ll go back and reread it.”

“Oh my god, it’s been four years! Four years! You still know how to come back!”

“I never thought this story would have another update. The last time I read it, I was still a student, and now I’m…”

…

“And then? And then?”

“And then? And then?”

“And then? And then?”

Towards the end of the comments, the replies suddenly became uniform.

Just like when she first created this Weibo account, Tan Xingwei’s decision to log in and send this post tonight was also on a whim.

It seemed like she wanted to give an explanation to those who had been waiting.

But in reality, she hadn’t explained anything.

“There is no ‘and then’.” Tan Xingwei randomly picked a netizen and replied with this.

Then, she tapped reply again and typed, “If there is an ‘and then’, I’ll continue to update”.

Before she finished typing, she selected all the text and deleted it.