Guided by the waiter, Gao Sijin and Yu Qingxue entered the dining room.
Just as he’d imagined a French restaurant, the interior was resplendent and gilded. Beneath dazzling crystal chandeliers lay tablecloths of saintly white snow, while the wallpapered surfaces were hung with paintings that looked extravagantly expensive. The wine cabinets were lined with all manner of high-end red wines. Almost every corner of the restaurant was steeped in the decadent yet pleasant scent of capitalism.
An ordinary couple might have been intoxicated by it.
But Gao Sijin detected a different kind of scent: the smell of money flowing like water.
Although Yu Qingxue had just offered to pay, upon second thought, having a woman pick up the bill on a dinner date was far too pathetic. Gao Sijin was still a working professional, after all. Therefore, even if he had to put it on an installment plan, he couldn’t let a woman treat him.
Yet as he touched the phone in his pocket, a model he hadn’t replaced in three years, Gao Sijin’s palm was slick with sweat. His fear came from the unknown. It was his first time eating at such a high-end Western restaurant. The mere thought of spending so much money caused him a dull ache of flesh-wrenching pain.
“Hey, not bad. That was quite the gentlemanly performance just now.” Yu Qingxue chuckled softly. “You actually knew to pull my chair out for me. Just for that performance, I should definitely give you bonus points.”
“I do know basic table manners.”
He recalled that when writing about a male lead going to a Western restaurant in the past, Gao Sijin had specifically looked up reference materials. Not long ago, he had also watched the British drama Downton Abbey, where the table etiquette was so complex it made one’s head swell. But thanks to that, Gao Sijin hadn’t embarrassed himself too badly.
The music drifting into their ears was, perhaps, a Chopin piano piece. But as for exactly which piece it was, Gao Sijin couldn’t tell at all.
The server brought the menus. Unlike Chinese dining, each person typically orders their own in French cuisine.
This stumped Gao Sijin. Though Chinese characters were annotated beneath the French, there were no pictures. For a moment, he had no idea what to order.
In contrast, Yu Qingxue ordered her dishes in fluent French. Hadn’t she gone to J-Country? Why was her French so proficient as well?
After she finished ordering, Yu Qingxue cast a surprised look at Gao Sijin. Her bewitching red lips parted slightly, like a blooming rose.
“Aren’t you hungry? Why haven’t you ordered yet?”
Gao Sijin looked at Yu Qingxue, then at the waiter standing ramrod straight, and said, “I’ll have the same as the young lady, please.”
The waiter took the menus away respectfully.
When he found out the meal had cost him over half a month’s salary, Gao Sijin’s mouth fell open and he couldn’t close it for a long time.
Beside him, Yu Qingxue covered her mouth, seemingly stifling a laugh.
Looking at her face flushed red from holding it in, Gao Sijin said, displeased, “You’re going too far, actually laughing at me.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve had professional training, but your comedic talent exceeds my capabilities. I can’t hold it in anymore. You’re such a fun guy, everything written right on your face. You don’t act like an adult at all.”
Watching the girl laugh until she was almost in tears, Gao Sijin felt quite ashamed. But seeing how pretty she looked when she laughed, he ultimately decided to magnanimously forgive her.
“Miss Yu, there’s a question I want to ask you.”
While they waited for the food, Gao Sijin spoke first.
“Qingxue.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t call me Miss Yu. If you must call me something, call me Qingxue. Why do you insist on being so pretentiously formal? Are you some CEO from an eight o’clock soap opera?”
Being around Yu Qingxue made Gao Sijin feel completely relaxed. He had originally thought that girls who went on blind dates at French restaurants were mostly little princesses with high standards, low skills, and noses stuck in the air. But Yu Qingxue’s every word and action was remarkably genuine, without a shred of falseness.
So far, this blind date with Yu Qingxue had been the best dating experience he’d ever had.
“I wanted to ask you, why did you come on a blind date?”
“Why? Is there some special rule in the country that forbids a girl like me from going on blind dates?” Yu Qingxue propped her fragrant cheek on her hand, her brows and eyes curved in a smile.
“That’s not it. First of all, you’re only twenty. So young, there’s absolutely no rush to get married. Plus, you’re an international student at the University of Tokyo, and you’re so beautiful it makes me feel inferior. Someone as perfect as you should have no shortage of suitors,” Gao Sijin said with a frown. “From my experience as a working adult, the people who attend matchmaking events are almost all defective goods like me, who can’t find a partner and are just looking for someone to settle down with. You really don’t seem like a defective good at all. So why is it?”
Just then, the server arrived with the decanted high-end red wine and poured it into Gao Sijin’s and Yu Qingxue’s wine glasses.
Holding her glass, Yu Qingxue narrowed her eyes slightly.
“Sijin, have you ever heard that curiosity killed the cat?”
“So just by casually asking, I become a cat that got killed?”
“Alright then, I’ll tell you the truth. The purpose of my blind date with you is to kidnap you, to capture you and take you abroad. Satisfied?”
Yu Qingxue tied on her napkin and took a sip of the red wine.
Gao Sijin froze, truly not expecting her to answer like that.
“Just a Japanese-style deadpan joke. I learned it overseas. Don’t take it seriously.”
“I definitely won’t take it seriously. A twenty-year-old little girl like you? How could you kidnap a working professional like me? I never lost a fight in high school.”
By the way, this was a fact.
Because Gao Sijin had never actually been in a fight in his entire life, from childhood to adulthood.
Yu Qingxue chuckled lightly.
“That’s true, too. By all common sense, girls are usually the vulnerable group.”
At that moment, the server brought the appetizers. Yu Qingxue expertly used her knife and fork to cut a small piece of foie gras and placed it in her mouth.
“Mmm, not bad. I didn’t expect Bincheng to have such authentic French cuisine. Try it, Sijin. The foie gras has the mellow fragrance of rum. An endless aftertaste.”
Gao Sijin also tasted the foie gras. He found it a bit gamey.
Perhaps his tongue was better suited for barbecue and spicy hot pot, right?
He took a sip of red wine and felt his head getting a little light.
“I mainly came on blind dates to observe humans, you see. And you are one of my human observation samples. Your every action is so amusing. More than enough to help me kill the boring moments.”
“You’re pretty chuunibyou. But coincidentally, my goal is somewhat similar.”
Although one of Gao Sijin’s purposes for the blind date was to appease Director Zhang, there was another objective: collecting material.
His works were mostly set in worlds of Swords and Magic, where blind dates practically didn’t exist because boys often had multiple wives and concubines before the age of twenty, with children already three and a half years old.
But getting to know girls, understanding the thoughts in their hearts, learning about their vanities and worldly concerns—these were also important treasures for Gao Sijin’s writing.
Writing stems from life. That was likely the essence of it.
The main course was a 21-day dry-aged M9 Tomahawk Steak.
Throughout the meal, Yu Qingxue never asked Gao Sijin where he worked, which school he graduated from, or how much money he made. She only spoke about topics related to their interests.
Through conversation, Gao Sijin learned she was a girl with an incredibly rich personal life.
The sea of Stockholm, the mountains of Yunnan, the wind of the Pampas Grasslands, the snow of Hokkaido. She had basically been to every place worth going. She was the kind of wealthy girl who lived an exquisite life in her WeChat Moments.
In contrast, looking at himself, Gao Sijin’s life was a microcosm fixed between the daily commute to and from work; either he was working at the company or writing at home.
The disparity in their stations made Gao Sijin understand that he and she were two people on parallel lines. She was the upper parallel line, and he was the one below.
