The next morning, I woke up at 6am, took a walk around Tsinghua campus with great-aunt. We had breakfast at the school cafeteria and I headed out into the city.
At around 9, I arrived at a really cute teahouse, tucked away, hidden in one of Beijing's narrow streets, barely wide enough for a car to pass through, inside a classic old Beijing architecture - Si He Yuan - a small courtyard garden, enclosed by houses on four sides. There was a pond in the middle, housing orange fish, which swam around merrily under an arched little wooden bridge. Pale green grape vines dangled from the wide eaves of the teahouse. The morning sun was shining brightly.
I walked in, and ordered a cup of Bi Luo Chun, literal translation: "Green Snail Spring." It's a fragrant green tea rolled into the shape of dried snail meat, cropped early spring. Legends say that a tea picker ran out of space in her basket and kept the tea leaves in her shirt next to her bosom. The tea, warmed by her body, emitted a strong fragrant aroma that startled the girl. Because of its rich aroma, the locals named it "Scary Fragrance". When Emperor Kangxi visited the area, impressed by the tea, he decided to give it a more elegant name, Bi Luo Chun. It's one of my favorite teas.
I was the only customer in the teahouse. There was a wide table for people to practice Chinese calligraphy, and play Gu Zheng - an ancient Chinese string instrument.
My mind was no mirror for the peaceful environment that surrounded me. While sipping at the tea, I was debating what to do about Hong Wang. Should I ask him out, or should I not ask him out?
Usually in cases like this, I would've given up and gone back to Tianjin the night before. Experience has taught me that if a guy really likes you, he never makes you wonder. The ones who do, don't really like you. Whatever the reason may be, the result would be the same. So don't waste your precious time and energy trying to figure it out, he either doesn't really like you, or can't.
However in this instance, with the game plan already developed, I felt compelled to make a try for it, and find out the reason for his hesitation.
On second thought, maybe, perhaps it's better to wait for Hong Wang to call? It's only 9am after all.
So I kept myself occupied the entire morning by memorizing a 4-page Korean cooking show's theme song, learned to perform it on Gu Zheng with one finger, watched 3 sets of customers come and go, acted as the in-house translator for an American tourist looking for "white rice", and shared my entire life story with the teahouse waitress and listened to hers. By the end of the 3 hours we were the bestest friends, and I could practically work there.
Still, Hong Wang hadn't called.
At last, I mustered up the courage to send him a text, (because calling would be completely out of the question)
"If you're not busy tonight, I'd like to take you and your girlfriend out to dinner."
I pressed "send", my clammy fingers clutching the phone as I waited impatiently for a response. The girl at the teahouse steeped me a cup of Steel Buddha in a blue and white lidded porcelain bowl. I've always liked the smell of Steel Buddha tea. For something so green, it always amazes me how it could smell like vanilla ice cream. I took a few sips of tea, stood up, walked to Gu Zheng and played the song a few times. And then I'd return to my seat, take a few more sips of tea, check my phone, seeing no new messages, I'd walk back to Gu Zheng and play the song a few more times. The cycle repeated itself in what seemed to be an eternity, when it was really 15 minutes that had lapsed before I finally heard the pleasing 'ding ding' sound on my cellphone, announcing the arrival of a text message.
Staring at the line of text, I sat there frozen for a moment, thunderstruck:
"Haha, how do you know I have a girlfriend?"
Hoping to god that it was a joke, I slipped in a compliment, "How else would you have learned to be such a gentleman?"
Despite my efforts to sound smooth and nonchalant, he must've sensed my rather distressed emotional state. He called right away to explain that he may have to work overtime that night and that I didn't need to meet his girlfriend. (So he did have a girlfriend! Mystery solved.) And that maybe we'd meet again at our weddings? (Who said anything about weddings?)
I was shattered and battered and deflated like a broken balloon. Who would've guessed he had a girlfriend already! I mean he's no jaw-dropping stud, nor does he own a house, a car, a trust fund – all the necessary criteria of an eligible bachelor by Chinese standards. And he was only 26. How was it possible he already had a girlfriend that he was planning to marry?!
Still, I couldn't help it but to like him. To my taste, he is the epitome of The Chinese Gentleman. Kind, considerate, thoughtful. Accomplished yet humble, quiet but endearing. Smart and sensitive. For example, in this instance, he knew to call instead of texting back to reject my invitation. That in itself is a lot more than what most 26-year-old guys I'd gone on dates with would know to do.
I'd seriously consider moving to Beijing if he continued being so nice to me.