Let Me Meet You chapter 23
Venus
“What are you thinking about now?”
Sheng Min looked up as Li Xuan handed him a box of frozen yogurt, topped with a thick layer of coconut flakes.
“For me?”
“Who else? Take it; my hands are freezing.”
“Thank you.” Sheng Min smiled and took it. “Is it from the shop at the corner?”
He remembered passing a small dessert shop with a long line that blocked half the road on their way to the internet café.
“Yeah, I called for delivery from here.”
Li Xuan leaned against the window, where a breeze blew in, casting sunlight and shadow across the windowsill.
They were on the second-floor loft of the internet café. Following Li Xuan’s instructions, Sheng Min had handed his laptop to Zhu Zhou, and they came upstairs to wait.
“You…” Sheng Min glanced at him.
“I don’t want it.” Li Xuan waved it off, frowning almost imperceptibly. “I don’t like sweets. Only you, with your childlike taste, can’t resist them. I ordered matcha and rum; they didn’t have the osmanthus flavor.”
“I only glanced a few times because there were so many people in line,” Sheng Min laughed. “I didn’t particularly want to eat osmanthus.”
“Your assistant said you liked it.” Li Xuan automatically ignored his previous comment. “Didn’t you also ask me to bring you osmanthus candy when I went to sweep the tomb?”
Sweeping the tomb.
Sheng Min froze for a moment, noticing a hint of mockery in Li Xuan’s eyes. He realized it and laughed. It had only been a week, but it felt like it had passed a long time. He lowered his eyes and took a spoonful of yogurt, which was very sweet with coconut flakes.
“Why aren’t you talking again?” Li Xuan noticed that Sheng Min had silently started eating and seemed a bit displeased.
“What should I say?” Sheng Min looked at him, confused. “It’s really good… thank you? I already said that.”
“Did I wait for your ‘thank you’?” Li Xuan leaned back against the window, arms outstretched. “I asked you what you were thinking about.”
Sheng Min thought for a moment, recalling that Li Xuan had asked this before handing over the yogurt. The image of the prison letter quickly flashed through his mind. “Nothing.”
“Don’t pretend. You’ve been acting strange since you left the school. Did you run into my roommate when you were getting the books, or was there something else?”
“No.” Sheng Min shook his head.
“Really?”
“Really.” Sheng Min pursed his lips and asked awkwardly, “Is this internet café yours? Just now, Zhu Zhou asked me to check the accounts.”
“Check the accounts? How does that mean it’s mine?” Li Xuan lazily replied.
Clearly, he was displeased with the change of topic. Sheng Min pretended not to notice and continued to play dumb. “Why are you running an internet café?”
“It’s yours now.” Li Xuan suddenly returned to the previous question, casually speaking. Sheng Min’s eyes lit up. “Not in the future?”
Li Xuan seemed to pause for a moment before responding, “In the future, when we switch back, of course, it’ll be mine. Do you want to take over?”
Sheng Min had the instinct that Li Xuan didn’t mean to say that, but Li Xuan clearly didn’t want to continue the topic. Footsteps were suddenly heard outside, and soon Zhu Zhou’s voice followed.
“Come in,” Sheng Min said.
“Xuan Ge.” Zhu Zhou poked his head inside. “I looked at it, and it seems like the graphics card is broken. We don’t have a spare here, but if you’re not in a hurry, I can have one delivered to you. It’ll only take about an hour. Do you want to grab lunch while you wait?”
Sheng Min glanced at Li Xuan without changing his expression. Li Xuan had already put on his mask. Noticing Sheng Min’s gaze, he lightly tapped his finger on the windowsill.
“Okay,” Sheng Min replied to Zhu Zhou. “Go ahead and change it.”
“What do you want for lunch? I’ll order.”
“Anything.”
“Then…” Zhu Zhou pointed at Li Xuan, but Sheng Min didn’t introduce him and only said he was a friend, unsure of how to address him, so Zhu Zhou didn’t use a title. “Is there anything he can’t eat since he’s sick?”
“Just something light, nothing else.” Sheng Min then remembered that Li Xuan’s illness was fake, but he had dietary restrictions, so he added, “No cilantro or celery. Thanks.”
Zhu Zhou ordered three dishes and a soup from a nearby restaurant. The food was average in appearance but tasted okay.
“Doesn’t he need to eat?” Zhu Zhou rushed in with the dishes, then hurried out. Sheng Min didn’t have time to stop him, but once the door closed, he asked Li Xuan.
“What’s with that look? Do I look like a strict boss? No eating during work hours?” Li Xuan pulled out a chair and sat down. “It’s almost noon. It’s crowded right now, and Zhu Zhou has to run the internet café. He’ll eat after this rush. And he eats heavily, so he probably ordered separately. You eat yours.”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Sheng Min handed him his chopsticks. “I was just thinking, if he stays here all the time, what would you do?”
“I’ll just wear a mask and eat,” Li Xuan replied.
Sheng Min smiled. “Actually, it doesn’t matter if you introduce yourself as me. Your friend probably won’t spread it around.”
He had already said this once when he got out of the car earlier. “Troublesome,” Li Xuan said as he pulled out a chair to sit down. “What if he asks how we know each other? Or if he wants a signed photo, should I sign it on the spot? …Do you have any fan meetings or something coming up? Should I practice your autograph?”
Sheng Min thought for a moment. “Not for now.”
“Then better not deal with more things, let’s eat.”
Sheng Min had just drank yogurt. He wasn’t that hungry, so he slowly drank two bowls of soup and ate half a serving of oyster sauce lettuce before feeling full. Li Xuan had finished eating earlier, and when Qi Boyuan called about the recruitment progress, he went to take the call in the corner.
Sheng Min cleared away the disposable dishes and quietly asked Li Xuan, “Should I take it down to throw away?”
Li Xuan was busy on the phone and casually nodded.
At this time, the nearby universities had let out, and the weather was good, so the streets were full of students wandering around arm in arm or couples holding hands to watch a newly released movie.
Over the years, Sheng Min had become more famous and rarely had the experience of being in a crowd without being noticed—though that wasn’t entirely accurate, because Li Xuan looked good, tall and lean, so there were always girls passing by, grouping together to look at him, and when they met his gaze, they would giggle and run off.
Sheng Min couldn’t help but lower his head and smile silently, turning back to the internet café.
“Xuan Ge.” As he entered through the back door, he heard Zhu Zhou call from behind the counter. “The computer’s fixed. Want to check it? The files should all be there.”
“So fast?”
Sheng Min glanced at the stairs. Li Xuan hadn’t come down yet. “Just give it to me, I’ll take it up to check.”
“Okay.” Zhu Zhou hesitated for a moment.
Sheng Min noticed his expression. “Is something wrong?”
“A little,” Zhu Zhou chuckled and leaned on the counter, asking him, “You said the big boss will come in two months, right? Do you know exactly when?”
Hearing this, Sheng Min froze, wondering what was going on. This internet café wasn’t actually Li Xuan’s? He remained calm on the surface and mimicked Li Xuan’s tone nonchalantly, “When did I say two months?”
“It was just a few days ago,” Zhu Zhou said, not understanding.
“Then don’t rush.”
Sheng Min lowered his eyes. Li Xuan said it was now, while Zhu Zhou said it was two months. For some reason, he suddenly thought of the name on the envelope: Zhao Jizhe… Two months, could it be that this person’s sentence is up?
Such speculation was baseless, but Sheng Min really didn’t know much about Li Xuan’s life. While he was lost in his thoughts, Zhu Zhou had already called him twice.
“What did you say? I didn’t hear it just now,” Sheng Min apologized.
Zhu Zhou scratched his head, “My sister is getting married next month. I might need to take a week off then.”
“That’s fine,” Sheng Min said kindly, coming back to his senses. “If he’s not here by then, just close the café, or I can find someone to cover for you for a week, it’s no problem… Your sister is getting married, you can take a red envelope for me.”
He said, reaching for his phone to transfer money, but halfway through, he realized it wasn’t quite right. Luckily, he had cash on hand, so he took out 2,000 yuan and handed it to Zhu Zhou.
“It’s not…,” Zhu Zhou quickly waved his hand. “No need, no need.”
“It’s not for you, it’s for your sister.”
“But you don’t even know her.”
“I know you,” Sheng Min smiled. “Since I know, it’s always good to give a gift.”
“Still, you don’t have to give so much,” Zhu Zhou frowned, not knowing how to handle it.
Sheng Min was used to giving red envelopes for occasions like these, especially since the assistants didn’t earn much. During festivals or family events, he would often supplement their pay. He had become accustomed to it, but Zhu Zhou’s strong reaction was unexpected.
“It’s fine, just take it. Getting married is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Don’t forget to bring me some wedding candy.”
Zhu Zhou hesitated for a moment, then accepted it. “Thank you, Xuan Ge.”
“No problem, it’s the least I can do,” Sheng Min said. Zhu Zhou smiled awkwardly. “My salary is already higher than others.”
“That’s a different matter,” Sheng Min replied warmly. “You’re busy, so hand me the laptop, I’ll head upstairs.”
Zhu Zhou packed the laptop into Li Xuan’s bag, then saw a few dents and scratched paint on the laptop cover. He casually asked, “How did your laptop end up like this? Did you drop it?”
“I wasn’t paying attention when I picked it up and it fell.”
“Oh.” Zhu Zhou handed Sheng Min the bag but seemed to remember something. He went to the back room where he usually sleeps and came out with a small red pouch, embroidered with golden patterns.
“My grandmother went to the temple last month and got this amulet. Xuan Ge, you should take it.”
Sheng Min looked at him, puzzled.
“Didn’t you drop it?” Zhu Zhou explained.
“The laptop fell, not me,” Sheng Min smiled. “And since it was specially prayed for by your grandmother, you should keep it.”
“She goes every week, and she’s prayed for many things for me since I was little. It’s just for good luck.”
“Your grandmother believes in Buddhism?”
“Yeah.” Zhu Zhou thought for a moment. “I think I mentioned it to you.”
“Oh… you did, I forgot,” Sheng Min nodded. Zhu Zhou seemed to want to return a favor, but it was done with good intentions. Sheng Min didn’t want him to feel awkward and remembered that Li Xuan had actually dropped the laptop due to a car accident. After thinking for a while, he solemnly accepted the amulet and thanked him.
“Why do you keep staring?” After checking that the laptop was fine, Li Xuan and Sheng Min were ready to head home. On the way, Sheng Min couldn’t stop thinking about Zhao Jizhe and Zhu Zhou’s so-called boss, wondering if they were the same person, and what exactly his relationship with Li Xuan was. He couldn’t help but glance at Li Xuan occasionally. Thinking he was being discreet, but after a few times, Li Xuan noticed.
“Do you have something to say?” Li Xuan raised an eyebrow when he didn’t answer.
Sheng Min sighed. “I was wondering if I’ve gained weight. I have an interview next week and will be on camera.”
Li Xuan glanced at him, clearly unconvinced. He half-smiled, “So, take a good look. Have you gained weight?”
“No.”
Sheng Min had used it as an excuse, but now had to seriously take a look at Li Xuan. After staring for a moment, he found it harder and harder to see traces of himself in this face that should have been familiar. “I’ve lost weight. You’re staying up too late.”
This was said sincerely, but Li Xuan didn’t respond, understanding that Sheng Min was probably thinking about something else earlier. Since Sheng Min didn’t want to talk about it, Li Xuan didn’t press further: “Just keep making up excuses.”
He then asked, “When is your interview?”
“Monday,” Sheng Min said. “Do you have something going on?”
There was something indeed. Li Xuan had promised Li Mingge that he would go back on Monday, but that was before the car accident. Given the current situation, it would be easier for Sheng Min to cover for his class, but covering for his trip back to the Li family… Li Xuan thought it over and decided it was better to delay it with an excuse.
He quickly made up his mind. “It’s fine, I can go to the interview.”
Sheng Min nodded. He remembered that he still hadn’t told Li Xuan about Zhu Zhou’s leave. He didn’t mention Zhu Zhou’s boss but informed him about Zhu Zhou’s plan to attend his sister’s wedding and also handed the talisman to him.
“Oh, you just agreed?”
“You’re not a strict boss,” Sheng Min used his own words against him.
Li Xuan gave him a sideways glance. Sheng Min looked at his expression. “Well, if you don’t want to, I can find someone to cover for you for a couple of days…”
“Let him take the leave,” Li Xuan laughed. “It’s fine.”
Up ahead was a kindergarten, and students were crossing the street with their teacher. Li Xuan stopped the car at the crosswalk and waited for them to pass. He hung the amulet on the rearview mirror, and the sunlight reflected off the golden thread, casting tiny flashes of light.
“Do you want to go see it?” Sheng Min had a sudden thought.
“See what?”
“The temple. It’s on the mountain north of the city. I’ve heard people say it’s very effective,” Sheng Min said. “We can ask for a fortune, maybe find out when we’ll switch back… Or just go to relax.”
His voice lowered as he spoke, and he found it a bit funny. There were quite a few superstitious people in the industry, some even raising ghosts. He wasn’t particularly religious, but when it came to things like soul swapping, unless you experienced it firsthand, it seemed completely absurd. Anyone who heard it would dismiss it as nonsense.
“I don’t believe in these things,” Li Xuan said, as expected.
According to scientific explanations, what is called the soul might just be the biological magnetic field. It’s difficult to say what exactly happened that day to cause him and Sheng Min to swap bodies. Temperature, humidity, geomagnetic fields, and even their physical indicators might have played a role.
Over the past few days, Li Xuan had also taken the time to look up a lot of materials—physics, biology, and even some astronomy. But for something that even the existence of is questionable, no matter how smart he was, he couldn’t quickly find an answer.
Although he didn’t want to admit it, the only thing he could do now was wait. Luckily, waiting and enduring were things he was quite good at.
“Do you want to go?” Li Xuan asked after a moment.
Sheng Min could tell that he wasn’t interested. “Not really, just saying it.”
Li Xuan said nothing, as the children in front of them were still playing and messing around while crossing the street. The teacher was busy trying to stop them, and the line seemed long. In the short stretch of road, it took two or three minutes to clear.
Li Xuan pulled out his phone, responded to a message, and then casually transferred two thousand to Sheng Min.
“You don’t need to transfer that to me,” Sheng Min frowned. “I was telling you in case we swap back and you don’t know. Zhu Zhou took a while to accept it today.”
“Because you gave too much,” Li Xuan said, looking down and typing, his tone somewhat helpless. “For ordinary families, especially people you aren’t familiar with, a normal gift would be two hundred or five hundred. You gave ten times that. Of course, he’s going to hesitate.”
“I see…” Sheng Min hesitated. “Usually… I…”
“Your entertainment industry ways don’t work here,” Li Xuan put away his phone and casually tapped the steering wheel. “You were a popular artist, so you must have had big expenses. But before you debuted, you must know how relatives and friends gave gifts.”
Ahead, the pedestrian crossing was finally clear, and Li Xuan started the car. Sheng Min remained silent for a long while before saying, “My family never had relatives visiting.”
“Mm?”
Sheng Min hesitated for a moment. “When I was young, my family had debts. I’ve told you about this. We borrowed from everyone we could, and no relatives would want to stay in touch. There were no friends either.”
His tone was very calm, but Li Xuan couldn’t help but glance at him. Sheng Min, under his prolonged gaze, almost became uncomfortable and regretted explaining: “I don’t mean anything else, just stating a fact.”
Li Xuan frowned, his throat moving slightly, but he didn’t speak. He kept looking at Sheng Min, and the latter, unable to endure the stare, turned his head and sighed silently, muttering, “You asked me about it.” Feeling that Li Xuan’s gaze had become unbearable, he turned away. “I’m a little sleepy. I’ll sleep for a bit.”
Li Xuan silently diverted his gaze.
Sheng Min initially pretended to sleep, but he hadn’t slept much the night before. Li Xuan turned up the car’s temperature a little and played a very soothing old song, a gentle female voice singing, “Where should we go? This is not where I planned to go…” Sheng Min gradually succumbed to sleep.
The sleep wasn’t deep, but he could vaguely feel that the car had left the city, and the noise of the city had been left far behind. It seemed like they were driving up a mountain, with dense trees brushing against the car’s roof. He wanted to ask Li Xuan where they were, but couldn’t open his eyes. He suspected he was dreaming. When he finally broke free from the semi-dreamlike state, the first thing he noticed was the strong scent of incense.
It was already evening. It was summer so it wasn’t dark yet. The sunset shone on the mountain’s edge, and the dazzling afterglow made him squint. It also cast a warm golden glow on Li Xuan, who was sitting cross-legged on the car’s hood, typing on his laptop.
He was writing code, and the rhythmic sound of his fingers hitting the keys was the only noise.
“Li Xuan,” Sheng Min watched for a while before calling out. Li Xuan turned around, jumped off the car, and walked over quickly. “Finally awake. If you hadn’t woken up, the gates would’ve closed soon.”
His brow furrowed. Though he said it like that, his tone wasn’t annoyed. Sheng Min rolled down the car windows and saw the large plaque for the “Great Light Temple.” “Didn’t you say we weren’t coming?”
Li Xuan replied naturally, “Didn’t you want to come?”
Sheng Min, still a bit groggy from waking up, shook his head. “Not really.”
“It’s no trouble. Even if you only wanted to a little, you can go. Stop overthinking, it’s exhausting.” Li Xuan finally sounded a little impatient. He reached for the door, bent down, and was about to unbuckle Sheng Min’s seatbelt. Just before his fingers touched it, he paused, then pulled his hand back.
“Get out of the car,” he coughed, “The gates will really close soon.”
After all, It was late, and no matter how effective the temple was, there wouldn’t be many visitors left.
The temple grounds were filled with tall cypress and cedar trees. The deeper they went, the stronger the incense smell became, masking the scent of the trees. Occasionally, the sound of a wooden fish drum mixed with bird calls, which made it feel even more deserted.
Sheng Min said he wanted to draw a fortune. Though he hadn’t really intended to, now that they were there, it wouldn’t hurt to try.
This was his first time drawing a fortune, and the process was unusually smooth. He got a fortune stick, cast the divination cups three times, and received the Three Holy Cups. He handed the bamboo stick to a young monk, who quickly brought him the fortune paper. The paper had four ambiguous lines of poetry about the stars and Venus. At the corner of the paper were two small characters indicating that it was a good fortune
The temple’s fortune interpreter, a kind-looking laywoman, had not left yet.
“What did you ask for?” she glanced at the fortune paper.
“Um…” Sheng Min hesitated, unsure how to summarize his current situation. He thought for a moment and answered, “About the future.”
This was indeed a vague question, covering things like relationships, career, health, and safety. The laywoman then asked, “What were you thinking when you drew the fortune?”
What was he thinking… Sheng Min lowered his eyes to look at the paper… He was thinking of someone.
“Sir?” She gently reminded him after a long silence.
“Sorry.” Sheng Min abruptly stood up, folded the fortune paper, and said, “I don’t need the interpretation.”
He generously donated all the remaining money as incense offerings and walked back the way he came.
Li Xuan hadn’t gone into the main hall. He had been waiting outside. As Sheng Min walked past a pond with lotus leaves, he saw Li Xuan’s figure behind the trees.
Sheng Min stopped in his tracks. He didn’t look at Li Xuan, instead raising his head to gaze at the dimming sky, where the distant Venus was flickering.
The sweat in his palm soaked the corner of the fortune paper.
The Morning Star and Venus have always been the same star—one that appears at sunset, the same one that signals the coming of dawn.
Sheng Min stood still, and perhaps Li Xuan had seen him because he walked over from behind the trees. The sound of the bell from the bell tower in the east rang out, echoing for a long time.
The evening breeze lifted the corner of Li Xuan’s shirt, and Sheng Min remembered where he had seen him before.