In between the high of Wednesday night and the high of early Saturday morning, Bingbing had determined in her mind that the weekend would be a paradigm-changing sorority-type escapade featuring co-founding member Lady Zhao, and honorary associate Ander; already, she had appointed Lady Zhao future maid of honor at a future theoretical wedding, already hearing ringing in her mind, for example, the question at a gift shower: "So how did you two meet?" in reference to her and her idealized fiancé. Bingbing would respond, "Well, on this wonderful and enlightening trip I went on with devoted friend here Zhao Lei, we prayed for a perfect match for me, and a week later, I ran into him at a play date!"
So when Bingbing prodded at Lady Zhao with musings concerning the self-involved fantasies they were here to make real, such as, "I wonder how long between praying for the love of my life and meeting him will be?" disturbing the silences, wanting to drum up anticipation and suspense for the next day, and when Lady Zhao batted them away in order, really, to save Bingbing from the magnitude-eleven lash-out she could feel tensing in her throat, Bingbing began to cry. And when neither Lady Zhao nor Ander could bring themselves to turn or lift their heads in sympathy, when looks of pity and disgust came shooting across the table from a spindly old man, Bingbing got internally furious and shut down, pledging to punish her companions with silence. It would last as long as – well she wasn't sure how the strategy ended exactly, except that it existed.
Only after the group had reached their three-to-a-room accommodation for the night (in an apartment a street hawker ran, with bathroom and kitchen facilities shared with other guests – the owners themselves lived across the street in another building) did Bingbing realize Lady Zhao might have preferred the quiet, and so was willing to break the embargo. Additionally, it now became important to let the others know, having neglected to do so during the room selection phase, that she needed to sleep with the light on in places she wasn't used to.
The light was the worse kind conceivable for the circumstance – a bright white fluorescent tube on the ceiling. Lady Zhao tried to endure it to start with, but since Bingbing fell asleep (and was snoring) within ten minutes, Lady Zhao went to switch off the light. Some time later, she awoke to Bingbing shrieking and scrambling for the switch. The light went back on, and Bingbing thankfully went back to sleep.