Tuesday, September 21. Tomorrow is the Mid-Autumn Festival.
The school is giving students a three-day break from the 22nd to the 24th. But it's not truly a break—classes will be held over the weekend to compensate for the missed days. Only when National Day coincides with the Mid-Autumn Festival do students get a longer, uninterrupted holiday.
As the Mid-Autumn Festival approaches, the moon grows rounder, casting a gentle glow over the town. At a fork in the road near Anhe River, Cheng Xing parted ways with Zhou Yuan and walked home beneath the moonlight.
Jiang Luxi wouldn't be visiting during the Mid-Autumn Festival, but she planned to tutor Cheng Xing on the 23rd and 24th.
On the day of the festival, Cheng Xing's cousin, Cheng Wen, along with a few other cousins from their uncle's and aunt's families, returned from school. They all gathered in their hometown for a reunion meal with their grandparents.
Although the younger generation had suggested bringing their grandparents to the city for a few days, the elderly couple declined. They found city life unfamiliar and uncomfortable, preferring instead the company of familiar faces and the simple joys of playing cards and chatting in the village.
Cheng Xing wished he could stay longer, but he had committed to using the rare holiday to catch up on tutoring. Still, he cherished the countryside, where countless childhood memories lingered from his past.
The river remained full, unlike later years when it would run dry. There were no perfectly paved cement roads, only dirt paths with patches of sand. Hedgehogs could still be seen after the rain, and grasshoppers leapt through the wheat fields—scenes that would become rare in the future.
Cheng Xing's parents, along with his uncle and aunt, stayed behind to spend more time with the grandparents. Life in the city kept them busy, and since the elderly couple refused to move, family gatherings were limited to New Year and Mid-Autumn Festival.
The next morning, Cheng Xing awoke to the aroma of breakfast.
"You're up? Breakfast is ready. Wash up and come eat," his mother called from the kitchen as he emerged from his room.
"Okay," Cheng Xing replied, heading to the courtyard to wash with cold well water.
Everyone gathered around the table to enjoy breakfast together.
After the meal, Cheng Xing announced his plan to leave.
"Why are you leaving so soon after finally coming home?" His grandmother set aside the dishes she was washing and hurried out of the kitchen.
Though she had many grandchildren, Cheng Xing was her favorite. Despite his poor grades and mischievous nature, he had a charm that made him endearing, with his sharp mind and pleasant appearance. Moreover, she had helped raise Cheng Xing and Cheng Wen from a young age, making their bond special.
Even in their patriarchal village, her fondness for Cheng Xing was evident.
His grandfather frowned. "Why the rush? You've got a few more days before school starts."
Although he often told his grandchildren not to worry about visiting, he found it hard to watch them leave once they were home.
"Grandpa, Grandma, I don't want to leave either, but you know my grades are bad. The college entrance exams are next year, and I've hired a tutor to help me catch up," Cheng Xing explained earnestly.
Everyone except his parents and Cheng Wen looked surprised. Cheng Xing, wanting to study? It sounded unusual.
"Studying isn't that urgent," his grandmother insisted. "Stay until tomorrow and leave with your parents in the morning."
His grandfather countered, "Studying is important. Whether he gets into college or not, learning more is never a bad thing."
Cheng Xing's father, Cheng Chuan, added, "If you're going, go. Just be careful on the road."
Cheng Xing nodded, said his goodbyes, and left the village, heading for the main road. Since there was no direct bus to the city, he first needed to travel to Linyang County and transfer to another bus bound for Ancheng City—a journey that would take over two hours.
At 6:40 a.m., he reached the village entrance and waited for the bus. It arrived about ten minutes later. Rural buses came every twenty minutes, and Cheng Xing chose a seat near the front to avoid the bumpy ride that passengers in the back endured on the rough roads.
By a little past nine, Cheng Xing stepped out of Ancheng's central bus station. As he exited the south gate, a swarm of pedicab drivers approached him.
"Where to? We can leave now."
"Need a ride?"
"Going to North Street?"
In small northern cities, pedicabs were common, darting through narrow streets like busy bees. They were cheap, ignored traffic lights, and could squeeze through almost any gap, making them popular with locals. During rush hour, a pedicab could even outpace a taxi.
Cheng Xing flagged one down, paying just two yuan for the ride home.
As he stepped off, he noticed Jiang Luxi skipping along the grid-patterned path outside his house.
The road, lined with plane trees, was blanketed in golden leaves. Jiang Luxi hopped along like a lively sprite, carefully placing each step within the grids, counting as she went.
The morning sunlight was perfect, casting a golden glow on her ponytail, which swayed with every leap. Cheng Xing paused, quietly admiring the rare, beautiful moment.
As she continued hopping, she misstepped on an uneven tile. Her focus on counting the grids had distracted her from the uneven ground. She steadied herself just in time and avoided falling.
Huffing in frustration, she muttered, "For such a wealthy family, couldn't they fix their front path properly?"
Hearing this, Cheng Xing, who had rushed over in concern, couldn't help but retort, "Our road is for walking, not for hopping!"
Jiang Luxi turned her head slowly, her delicate ears instantly flushing red.
"You... when did you get here?" she asked, her voice a mix of embarrassment and surprise.
Cheng Xing didn't answer. Instead, he walked over, squatted in front of her, and began tying the laces of her loosened sneakers, undone from stepping on an uneven concrete slab.
Her feet were small, and so were her shoes. She still wore her usual faded jeans, their hems stretching to her ankles, covering any visible skin. A pair of white socks peeked out from beneath the long pants.
The crisp autumn air hung lightly around them, the season fresh just after the Mid-Autumn Festival. In this tranquil scene, a girl with a delicate, clear appearance stood in quiet surprise as a handsome young boy knelt in front of her, tying her shoelaces.
Some say a girl is most beautiful when she tucks her hair behind her ear and smiles. Others believe a boy is most charming when he looks up after tying his shoes. But nothing compares to the rare, intimate moment when a boy willingly kneels to tie a girl's shoelaces. It is a simple act, unnoticed by others, done purely from the heart.
For Cheng Xing, this was the first time in both of his lives—spanning 30 years—that he had tied a girl's shoelaces. And he did it willingly, with no other reason than that he wanted to.
Looking up at the still-dazed Jiang Luxi, he smiled.
"Let's go. Don't just stand there."
"Oh..." she murmured, trailing after him into the house. Halfway through the doorway, she stopped abruptly, remembering her bicycle outside. She hurried back to wheel it into the courtyard.
"Hey," Jiang Luxi called out suddenly.
"Yeah?" Cheng Xing turned around.
"You broke our agreement. You promised not to touch me," she said, her tone accusing but restrained.
"I didn't!" Cheng Xing defended himself immediately. "I just tied your shoelaces—that doesn't count as touching you, does it?"
"I just want to be friendly. Your shoelace was undone, so I helped. That's all."
Jiang Luxi sighed, realizing she couldn't out-argue him. Technically, he hadn't broken their agreement. He had only touched her shoelaces, not her.
"Even that is not allowed," she insisted, her tone firm.
"Alright, noted. I won't help next time," Cheng Xing replied with a smirk.
"Good." Jiang Luxi nodded, though she didn't seem entirely satisfied.
"By the way, how long were you standing there earlier?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Not long. Just got here," Cheng Xing answered, his voice calm and even.
"You didn't see anything, right?" Jiang Luxi probed further.
"Nope. I came straight from the bus and heard you complaining about how uneven the road in front of my house is," he replied, his expression remaining innocent.
"Really?" She scrutinized him.
"Really," Cheng Xing affirmed.
"Oh." Jiang Luxi sighed in relief, then muttered, "The road is uneven. I almost tripped."
"In that case, I apologize on behalf of our road. Happy now?" Cheng Xing teased, his eyes crinkling with amusement.
Jiang Luxi pursed her lips but said nothing more.
Cheng Xing was amused by Jiang Luxi's unexpected reaction. He realized that people can be quite different from their outward appearances, and true understanding requires deeper familiarity.
"Didn't I tell you last week I'd be returning to my hometown for the holidays and wouldn't be back early today? I even asked you to come later. So why are you here so early?" Cheng Xing asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm not early. I left at 7 this morning. How could I know you'd come back so late?" Jiang Luxi retorted, crossing her arms.
"Did you have breakfast?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Yes."
"Really?" Cheng Xing raised a playful brow.
"I'm not lying!" she emphasized, frowning slightly.
"I believe you," Cheng Xing said, laughing softly.
Jiang Luxi shot him a glance, then fell silent.
Cheng Xing retrieved a junior high math textbook from the table and handed it to her. Jiang Luxi accepted it without a word and resumed tutoring him from where they had left off the previous session.
However, something felt different. Her earlier flustered state lingered, and her usual calm demeanor seemed more distant.
Before they knew it, the morning had slipped away, and noon marked the end of their session.
Cheng Xing reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of bills, totaling 420 yuan. He handed it to her.
Jiang Luxi blinked in confusion. "Why are you giving me this?"
"Today's a national holiday," Cheng Xing explained. "My parents insisted I follow proper pay regulations. On holidays, it's triple the usual rate. Your rate is 20 yuan per hour, so from 9 a.m. to noon—three hours—plus this afternoon's four hours, that's 420 yuan."
"I don't want it," Jiang Luxi said flatly, pushing the money back.
"It's not charity. Check the labor law if you don't believe me. Holiday work pays double, and national holidays like Mid-Autumn require triple pay," Cheng Xing insisted.
Jiang Luxi remained unmoved, though she knew he was right. The law mandated holiday pay. Still, 1,000 yuan a month already felt generous—most adults earned just 1,000 to 2,000 yuan.
"Alright, two options: Either I pay you triple for these two days, or I provide lunch until the contract ends," Cheng Xing offered. "You signed a contract with my dad, and contracts must comply with labor laws. That means you're owed 900 yuan for these three days."
Jiang Luxi frowned. Breaching the contract was out of the question.
"What's the lunch budget?" she asked, weighing her options.
"About 3 yuan per meal," Cheng Xing replied casually.
With about eight tutoring days per month for three months, the total of 72 yuan for meals was far less than the 900 yuan she was owed.
"I'll take the lunch option," Jiang Luxi decided after a moment.
"Deal. But to avoid future disputes, we need a new contract," Cheng Xing said, pulling out a freshly printed document from the drawer.
Jiang Luxi stared at the paper, her eyes wide with disbelief.