AUS Chapter 19: I Want to Be Better to Liu Jiang

After he faced me for three seconds, my breathing returned.

He asked: “How do I look?”

I: “Uh…”

It wasn’t quite what I had imagined. My breath had hitched mainly due to the image of Liu Jiang in my memory. Now, seeing him, it seemed like an overreaction.

Because the current Liu Jiang wasn’t very similar to the one in my memory, he didn’t even resemble Liu Sisi in makeup.

What went wrong?

I shrank back, unable to pinpoint the problem.

To be honest, Liu Jiang had only applied a little makeup, but it was evident he had some talent for styling. Maybe his skills weren’t fully developed yet, as he currently just looked slightly paler, with slightly brighter lips. He hadn’t applied any eye makeup, so his look was a bit bland.

Was it because the hair underneath the wig wasn’t covered?

I tried to tuck his black hair under the white wig, but that only pushed the wig further up, creating an abnormally high forehead.

I said, “Why don’t you use a hairnet?”

He agreed with my idea and went to search Liu Sisi’s drawers for a hairnet. Two minutes later, he successfully trapped his upper eyelid in the hairnet.

He called out to me: “Yang Pingsheng, help me get this off!”

I couldn’t shirk my responsibility and helped him pull the hairnet from behind, but the situation only worsened.

I asked, “Here?”

He said, “No, you’re pulling my hair!”

I asked again, “Here?”

He yelled, “Ah, ah! No, my hair!!”

Liu Sisi said, “Just cut it from the back. The hairnet is stuck.”

Both Liu Jiang and I had a sudden realization, saying “Thanks, sis” simultaneously. We froze for a few seconds, then looked towards the doorway in alarm.

Liu Sisi was standing at the doorway, arms crossed, watching us. We didn’t know when she had arrived.

The cinema where she was supposed to meet her friends for a movie was temporarily closed for renovations. They wandered around for a bit, couldn’t find anything they wanted to do, so they grabbed a quick bite and went their separate ways. Then she returned home, and this scene unfolded.

In the end, Liu Jiang and I were punished by having to organize all the cosmetics on her table and then squatting in the courtyard, washing her wigs.

We wore plastic slippers, our school uniform pants rolled up to our knees. The faucet in the courtyard was running, and piles of wet and not-so-wet wigs were scattered on the ground, making it look like some kind of shady workshop.

He was quite disgruntled, believing that if he had been a little more careful, he wouldn’t have been caught. Amidst his intermittent grumbling, I felt guilty, having betrayed the trust of both sides.

Another thing bothered me – why didn’t the silver hair suit Liu Jiang this time?

The wig I was washing was the one he had just worn. I pretended to listen attentively to his complaints, but my mind was elsewhere.

He suddenly said: “I think black hair suits me better.”

I caught this key piece of information and really wanted to argue with him on the spot, because no one present except me knew how good Liu Jiang looked with silver hair. The only drawback was that it was a bit difficult to maintain. During that time, every time I went to Liu Jiang’s house, I would accidentally grab his color-protecting shampoo in the shower, squeezing out a blob of what looked like sesame paste.

I stopped pouring the conditioner and, after careful consideration, agreed with him: “Maybe. Then you should keep your black hair.”

Because Liu Sisi said it’s best to go along with high school boys.

I scrubbed the wig a few times, then looked up: “But I think it’s good for you to try something different.”

Because Liu Sisi said not to agree with everything.

He asked: “Like what?”

I compared the current him with the future Liu Jiang and answered: “Ear piercings?”

This was the most socially acceptable of the countless piercings future Liu Jiang had. Unexpectedly, the Liu Jiang in front of me looked almost incredulous.

“Huh?” he questioned me, “That would hurt!”

You’re afraid of pain? I didn’t see that.

I retorted: “Change is supposed to hurt. If it doesn’t hurt, how can it be called change?”

He stopped talking, shook the foam off his left hand, wiped it on the front of his school uniform, then pinched his earlobe with his fingernail, letting out a predictable yelp of pain.

I didn’t try to dissuade him, still fixated on his silver hair.

Then he started muttering again: “The gig is in a month and a half. I can go to five or six events before then, each one pays 200 yuan…”

I asked, “What are you calculating?”

His hands were still busy counting, and he replied: “Money, of course. Even if I want to get my ears pierced, I need money.”

I was about to ask him where his original money went, then I remembered, his original money was on me, in the form of this shirt.

At this moment, the shirt felt even more like a hot potato.

I thought for a moment and casually asked him: “What else do you need money for?”

The implication being that I could help. I was even considering using my consultant status to secretly access his funds and slip in some cash.

He said: “I was thinking of buying a Polaroid camera.”

After he said that, we both fell silent. He quickly realized that I would feel guilty and hurriedly added: “On second thought, forget it. I don’t really want it that much. Cameras are heavy, and I don’t like taking pictures.”

Bullshit.

If I hadn’t seen Liu Jiang’s future photo albums, I might have believed that he wasn’t someone who liked taking pictures. He lied so convincingly.

Bullshit!

Anyway, for the rest of the day, I was consumed by a complex mix of guilt and regret. I ate the spicy stir-fried seafood with this feeling, listened to Grandma Liu praise me as a good boy with this feeling, and watched Liu Sisi kick Liu Jiang under the table with this feeling – because we had somehow managed to tangle her wigs while washing them, and out of politeness, she could only take it out on Liu Jiang.

I’m sorry, sis.

I held my bowl and looked at Liu Jiang, who was still chuckling foolishly, feeling like I owed him an apology too, but I just couldn’t bring myself to say it.

That day, I rushed home, ordered a bouquet of carnations, and rushed to my parents’ place.

My dad was on a business trip. I asked the housekeeper to find a vase and arrange the flowers, and I waited at the door before my mom got home. When she opened the door, I helped her with her bag, poured her a glass of water, and successfully coaxed a smile onto her face.

But my mom was embarrassed to express her happiness directly. She deliberately flattened her lips and asked me, “Tell me, are you short of money?”

I denied it repeatedly, saying no way, and then respectfully asked my mom: “If I can get into the top ten in the midterm exams, can I have the equivalent cash value of the phone you promised to buy me?”

My family always adhered to the principle of using material rewards instead of emotional ones. For example, this time, my parents had already decided on a reward for my first exam after transferring schools. If I could make it into the top ten, they would buy me the latest phone.

This reward was meaningless to me. They were all just rectangular screens with a home button, just with a few new back case colors, which were completely hidden by a phone case anyway.

My mom asked me, “You want money?”

Although it sounded unpleasant, it was the truth, so I could only nod.

Fortunately, my family wasn’t short of a few thousand yuan. She waved her hand: “Fine, tell me earlier next time. If you had waited two more days, I would have already bought it.”

It seemed my mom was very confident in my ability to get into the top ten, but I wasn’t so sure now, because in the month since I entered the As-Usual plan, I had been using my adult knowledge to deal with small tests.

But as for what I would do with the money, I hadn’t figured that out yet.

I couldn’t just put the money in an envelope and give it to Liu Jiang, could I? He would never accept it.

My mom was completely over her anger and hummed a tune as she went to the walk-in closet. My gaze fixed on the open door of the closet, where I could see my mom’s jewelry stand.

In my memory, I had indeed given Liu Jiang some gifts. Liu Jiang didn’t care about the monetary value of the gifts, but whether I was sincere when I gave them to him.

One particularly memorable occasion was Christmas Eve. We hadn’t made plans beforehand, but he suddenly came to my city after class. He said he had a last-minute gig and wanted to grab dinner with me so I wouldn’t be lonely.

I thought, you have your family with you, and you still came to see me, but I didn’t say it out loud.

We ate hot pot on a street behind a Christmas market. He was wearing long earrings that day, a hoop with a cross. While we were waiting for the food, his earring got tangled in his sweater three times. On the fourth time, I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up and left without even putting on my coat.

I went to the market, found the nearest jewelry stall, and bought a pair of handmade rhinestone silver stud earrings, so simple they were almost plain.

The stall owner was a young woman. She asked me if my girlfriend liked this simple style and said she must be a quiet girl.

Quiet, haha.

I smiled without answering, paid, and left.

Back at the restaurant, the food had already arrived. Judging by Liu Jiang’s expression, he must have thought I was angry, but after seeing the jewelry box I placed on the table, his eyes lit up.

Giving him earrings again? Not realistic, too suggestive for high school students.

But at this moment, I had a brilliant idea – I was certain it was brilliant.