He Xiao · Chat

The chirping of cicadas outside the window is incessant, a noisy sound that makes one restless. You are curled up on the very edge of the living room sofa, holding a glass of iced lemonade that you finished long ago. Fine beads of condensation have formed on the glass, sliding silently down through the gaps between your fingers. Your mother and Mrs. He are sitting on the main sofa, chatting warmly. "He Xiao, that boy, has been a handful since he was a kid." Mrs. He rubs her temples, her tone carrying a sort of helpless love-hate. "A few days ago, he beat up a sponsor's son just because the guy was smoking in his team's lounge. He just went up and punched him; the guy's nose was crooked. His brother went to apologize, and He Xiao just sat there with his legs crossed, saying, 'If I see you again, don't expect the other side of your nose to stay intact either'—listen to that, does that sound like something a civilized person would say?" Your mother smiles and waves it off. "He's a boy, young and full of vigor. People with talent always have a bit of a temper; it's normal." Your father, sitting on the side armchair, pushes up his glasses and chimes in with a smile. "It's good for young people to have some spirit. Weren't we the same back then? I've seen photos of He Xiao; he looks very sharp, a boy with his own mind." Your eldest sister, sitting next to you, nudges you with her elbow and whispers, leaning in, "Hear that? Your future mother-in-law is giving you a heads-up—this guy is a real rebel. Get yourself mentally prepared." Your second sister is on the other side, looking down at her phone but not staying quiet either. "I'm not worried about him being a rebel; I'm just worried he's ugly. If he turns out to be some thuggish-looking guy, you'd better hold your ground, sis. I'll be the first to help you reject the marriage." Bitng your straw, you say nothing. In truth, you don't feel much. In a family like yours, you've been prepared for an arranged marriage for a long time. You're just a bit nervous—after all, you've never met the man. You've only heard that his name is He Xiao and that he's a notorious hell-raiser in the Beijing social circles. The doorbell rings. The servant hurries to open the door. Your mother and Mrs. He stop talking simultaneously, both looking toward the foyer. Your father also puts down his teacup, clears his throat, and sits up a bit straighter. Your heart inexplicably skips a beat. Your eldest sister nudges you again. "He's here, he's here. Sit up straight, don't let them think our family has no manners." You instinctively straighten your back, but your body involuntarily shrinks toward the edge of the sofa, as if trying to make yourself less noticeable. Footsteps approach from the foyer. First, a lazy sound of footsteps, leather shoes clicking on the marble floor in an unhurried manner, as if he were the master of this house. Then, a tall, slender figure appears at the entrance of the living room. You look up and see He Xiao. He is taller than you imagined, wearing a black leather jacket over a simple white T-shirt, the collar hanging loosely to reveal a section of his collarbone. He stands at the living room entrance, his gaze lazily sweeping the room, a half-smile playing on his lips, exuding a nonchalant vibe that says, "I'm just here to go through the motions." Mrs. He stands up immediately, smiling. "Come here, greet everyone." Your father also stands, welcoming him warmly. "This must be He Xiao? Come, come, have a seat, don't just stand there." Your mother follows with a smile. "This boy really looks sharp." You and your two sisters also stand up, the three of you lined up in front of the sofa like three small saplings called on by a teacher. You are standing at the very end. He Xiao walks over, his gaze sweeping over your father and mother as he gives a perfunctory "Hello, Uncle and Auntie." Then, his gaze falls on the three sisters. From left to right, he scans slowly. The eldest sister is dignified and poised, the second sister is smiling, and you are shrinking at the end, hands unconsciously twisting together, head slightly lowered, gaze fixed on the tips of your shoes. Then, he raises a hand and points at you. "This one looks the most obedient. I'll take this one." His voice carries a casual indifference, as if he were picking out a chocolate and had chosen the one that looked most appealing. The living room falls silent for a moment. Only one thought crosses your mind: *Damn, where does this guy get his attitude?* The smile on your eldest sister's face fades slightly, her eyes narrowing. Your second sister's smile freezes completely as she turns to look at you, her eyes screaming, *Is he serious? This is how he picks a wife?* Your father is stunned for a second before he bursts out laughing, trying to smooth things over. "Haha, this boy has good taste, good taste. Our youngest daughter is indeed the most well-behaved." Your mother also nods with a smile, though it's somewhat awkward. "He Xiao is certainly direct." Mrs. He's expression has already changed. She strides over and delivers a smack to the back of He Xiao's head. It's not light; the crisp sound is heard by everyone in the room. "He Xiao!" Mrs. He hisses, scolding him in a low voice. "What kind of attitude is that? How did I teach you? This is meeting your elders, not picking out vegetables at the market! Speak properly and behave yourself!" He Xiao's head is knocked to the side. He frowns, rubbing the back of his head, and mutters, "Mom, can you take it easy? How old am I that you're still hitting my head?" "Hit you? I want to kick you!" Mrs. He glares at him, then turns back to you and your parents, smiling apologetically. "I am so sorry. This boy has been spoiled by me since he was little. He doesn't know how to speak properly. Please don't take it to heart." Your father waves it off, still wearing that smiling face. "It's fine, it's fine. Young people are better off being direct. Come, He Xiao, sit down, don't stand." He Xiao receives another glare from Mrs. He before reluctantly walking to the sofa and sitting down. His sitting posture is also very casual; he leans back into the sofa, crosses his legs, and rests one arm on the backrest, looking exactly like he's just there for tea. Your eldest sister lightly touches your hand and whispers, "Are you sure you want this one?" Your second sister leans in too, her voice even lower. "It's not too late for me to help you reject the marriage." You take a deep breath and sit back down on the sofa, still at the very edge, far away from him. After He Xiao sits down, his gaze drifts over to you again. He looks you up and down before suddenly speaking: "Why are you sitting so far away? Am I going to eat you?" You look up, meeting those eyes filled with a hint of playfulness, and force a polite smile. "I'm used to it. I like sitting on the edge." He raises an eyebrow, the curve of his lips deepening. "Is that so? Well, after we're married, you'll sit by my side. I'll make sure you get used to it." You: "..." Mrs. He's hand greets the back of his head once again. "He Xiao! If you say one more ridiculous thing, you're going back to the old mansion tonight to kneel in the ancestral hall!" He Xiao shrinks his neck, finally reining it in a bit, but still mutters defiantly, "I'm just telling the truth... isn't this going to happen sooner or later anyway?" You lower your head, continuing to stare at the tips of your shoes, silently repeating the same thought in your head: *Damn, where does this guy get his attitude?*