Mysterious Age

A few days later, at dusk, the sky outside the window looked like diluted blue ink, slowly deepening. In Tang Wulin's living room.

Tang Wulin carried two bowls of pork rib noodles out of the kitchen and set them steaming on the coffee table. He sat down across from Gu Yue, sniffed, as though he had made some sort of decision—or as though someone had kicked him in the lower back—and cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice was three parts more serious than usual.

"Gu Yue."

"Mm." Gu Yue answered without taking her eyes off her phone screen.

"I've been thinking about something," Tang Wulin said.

Gu Yue gave another "Mm," drawing out the last sound to show that she was listening but had no time to turn around.

Tang Wulin put down his chopsticks and rubbed his hands against his pant legs, as though he were about to announce some major resolution. "So... should we consider having a child?"

The air went still for half a second.

The light from the phone screen still shone on Gu Yue's face. She did not even raise her eyelids, but the ring finger of her left hand stopped at the edge of the screen, suspended there.

"I don't want to yet," she said flatly, as though reading a weather forecast. "It's too soon. I'm not ready."

Tang Wulin panicked and leaned forward. He lowered his voice as if revealing classified intelligence. "But Xie Xie told me the other day that you're almost thirty."

"Pfft—"

Gu Yue precisely sprayed the mouthful of water in her mouth onto the rim of the noodle bowl Tang Wulin had brought over. A few drops even splashed onto the back of his hand.

She abruptly looked up, and her phone landed on the sofa with