"Class monitor, your place is pretty clean and tidy."
To escape the awkward atmosphere as quickly as possible, Duan Chan'er took the initiative to make conversation. "I thought boys' rooms would all be really messy."
"It used to be. I gave it a good cleaning recently," Zhang Zhaomu replied.
If she had come over a few days earlier, she probably would have been utterly disgusted. No, she might have taken one look inside from the doorway, covered her nose, and backed right out.
So there really were benefits to living a little more elegantly. Who knew when a girl might unexpectedly come to visit?
"You really did used to..." Duan Chan'er paused. "You really were quite different from how you are now."
Though she honestly had little impression of the old Zhang Zhaomu. Occasionally, she would run into him when she went out, and all she remembered was that he always kept his head down, had rather long hair, and seemed uncomfortable whenever he saw her... In short, he had seemed like a very ordinary boy.
Duan Chan'er did not dislike ordinary boys, though she certainly could not be said to like them either. It was just that she really found it difficult to have much interaction with them.
It was not that her standards were high. It was just that interacting required at least being able to hold a normal conversation, rather than having someone stand beside her with his gaze darting away, looking inferior or guilty.
The current Zhang Zhaomu did not do that. His gaze was perfectly open when he looked at her, and nothing about the way he spoke made her uncomfortable.
Though this was hardly enough to make Duan Chan'er develop any particular fondness for him, she was at least willing to chat with him in everyday life, or even become friends.
"How does that saying go? Boys often grow up in a single instant," Zhang Zhaomu said.
That really was the truth. The [Refined] persona had appeared in no more than an instant.
"Taking the initiative to change and then sticking with it already puts you ahead of most people," Duan Chan'er praised him. "Even when people feel they need to change, their enthusiasm often only lasts three minutes."
"Ahem, true." Zhang Zhaomu felt a little embarrassed. That three-minute enthusiasm described people like him perfectly. He changed the subject. "Speaking of which, there's something I've been curious about."
"What is it?"
"Generally speaking, it's pretty rare to have 'er' in your name. It makes it sound like a nickname," Zhang Zhaomu said.
"Well, you actually guessed right." A slight smile unconsciously curved Duan Chan'er's lips. "It is a nickname, but it's not the 'chan' with the woman radical. It's the one with the insect radical."
"When I was first born, my mom was staying at my maternal grandmother's house in the countryside. It was summer, and whenever the cicadas outside started calling, I would babble along with them. So Grandma always called me Chan'er."
"When they went to register my household information, Grandma actually wanted to name me Duan Chan'er, with the character for cicada. But everyone else thought it was too strange and people might make fun of me, so they changed it to the 'chan' with the woman radical."
"So that's how it happened." An image of a tiny Duan Chan'er babbling along with the cicadas involuntarily surfaced in Zhang Zhaomu's mind.
"That 'chan' is nice. It must come from the line 'Though a thousand miles apart, we share the moon's beauty,' right?"
"Mm." Duan Chan'er nodded. "What about your name? Is there a story behind it?"
"I'm not too sure about that." Zhang Zhaomu spread his hands. "My parents never talked to me about it."
Perhaps they had when he was very young, but in Zhang Zhaomu's memories, his parents' voices were mostly shrill arguments or low sobs. What he had heard most was not amusing stories about his childhood, but complaints about each other and guilt toward him.
"It probably came from a poem too." Duan Chan'er thought for a moment, then said, "If love between two hearts can last, what need is there for mornings and evenings together?"
Zhang Zhaomu lowered his eyes slightly, then raised them again, revealing a somewhat exaggerated smile. "That's quite possible. I heard my mom went away for work not long after I was born. Giving me this name was probably their beautiful hope back then."
It had to be.
Back then, they must still have loved each other.
As for why things had turned so ugly afterward, Zhang Zhaomu did not quite understand, nor did he want to investigate.
Ultimately, that was the previous generation's business. Parents were not merely parents. They had lives of their own, new families and new children. Zhang Zhaomu had never harbored the extravagant hope that they would live only for him.
Just then, Duan Chan'er's phone rang. She gestured apologetically to Zhang Zhaomu and answered it.
"You're here? Okay, I'm right across the hall. I'll be right out."
By the time she hung up, Zhang Zhaomu had already stood and opened the door. A scrawny middle-aged man stood outside, a cigarette between his lips and a toolbox in hand. He looked rather impatient and was muttering:
"Look how late it is, and you still made me spend over an hour getting here. You'll have to pay extra for the call-out!"
Duan Chan'er followed Zhang Zhaomu outside and said softly, "Thank you for the trouble. The fee is no problem. Please unlock the door for me first."
The man's eyes immediately stuck to Duan Chan'er. His mouth fell slightly open, and the cigarette dropped from his lips, burning the chest of his somewhat yellowed shirt.
He hissed and swiftly slapped at it a few times before finally looking away, his tone considerably softer:
"Don't worry. This kind of lock is easy to open. It'll be done in a flash."
"You two are still in high school, right? Forget it, studying isn't easy either. Eighty yuan will do."
"Okay." Duan Chan'er nodded. "I'll scan your code and pay you in a moment."
"I'll also need to register your identity information," the locksmith explained. "It's a public security system requirement, mainly because they're worried about people pretending to be homeowners and asking us to open doors."
"I know," Duan Chan'er said. "Please open the door first."
The locksmith bent down to inspect the lock, then took out a card, slipped it into the gap, and swiftly swiped it.
With a click, the door opened.
"All done." He put away the card and took out his phone. "WeChat or Alipay?"
Duan Chan'er and Zhang Zhaomu exchanged a glance.
That was way too fast...
But both of them were reasonable people. They were not about to refuse to pay just because opening the door had looked simple. After all, however simple it looked, it was still the skill he made his living with.
Duan Chan'er promptly scanned the code and paid, then registered her information.
"Don't forget your keys next time you go out," the locksmith reminded them, mainly addressing Duan Chan'er. "If you forget again, I won't give you a discount. For a situation like tonight's, I'd charge anyone else at least a hundred and fifty."
"I'll be more careful next time." Duan Chan'er nodded and walked to her doorway, pulling the door open. Then she suddenly turned back to the locksmith and said:
"However, I checked the local locksmith rates earlier. An old-fashioned lock like mine generally only costs fifty yuan, and the so-called call-out fee is included in the unlocking service."
"Also, it wasn't my fault you spent over an hour getting here. You forgot to charge your electric bike yourself, so don't say I wasted your time. You wasted mine too, but I forgive you."
"Finally, I hope my identity information will only be used for the public security system's records. Of course, I'm not casting suspicion on you. I trust that, as a locksmith, you're registered with the public security system yourself and wouldn't do anything to bring trouble on yourself."
By the time she finished that long speech, the locksmith's expression had become extremely awkward.
Only then did Duan Chan'er put away her somewhat stern expression and return to her polite tone:
"In any case, thank you very much for opening my door today. Ride slowly on your way back, and stay safe."