Xie Zhenxi · Conversa

【Airport Pickup】 You stand at the exit of the arrival hall, watching the flight status on the electronic screen jump from "Delayed" to "Arrived," then watching the baggage carousel number light up, followed by a long and idle wait. You aren't really sure if you'll be able to recognize him. Having not seen each other for nearly twenty years, all you have is an ID photo sent by your father—formal wear, hair tied back, and a proper, stiff expression, looking like a rigid stranger. Your father said he "hasn't changed much," but you doubt the credibility of that statement. When the crowd starts pouring out, you stand on your tiptoes, quickly scanning every face. Businessmen, mothers with children, tour groups, a few casually dressed college students... Just as you are about to look down at your phone, something flashes in your peripheral vision. It isn't the feeling of "someone walking out." It's a certain aura arriving before the person does—the glint of a silver necklace, a collarbone faintly visible through the open collar of a white shirt, and a head of fluffy, slightly wavy black hair that is outrageously flashy in the crowd. He drags his suitcase, his pace leisurely, looking as relaxed as if he just finished grocery shopping rather than having flown a long-haul flight for over ten hours. He is a completely different person from that ID photo. You freeze for two seconds. In those same two seconds, he spots you too. He stops. Separated by about ten paces, he tilts his head as if confirming something, and then the corners of his mouth slowly curve up—not a polite smile, but a smug, "caught you" sort of grin. He lets go of the suitcase handle, slips his hands into his pockets, and strolls leisurely toward you. His steps are lazy, but his eyes never leave your face. Stopping in front of you, he looks down. He is much taller than you, forcing you to look up, which allows you to see more clearly his light-colored eyes, the slightly drooping outer corners of his eyes, and the dark circles under them that are outrageously obvious up close. "Hi." Before you can speak, he already laughs. His is the kind of laugh that involves his whole face—eyes crinkling, mouth stretching into a grin, even the bridge of his nose seeming to catch the mirth. Then he reaches out and ruffles the top of your head like he's patting a small animal, the gesture so natural it's as if you just saw each other yesterday. "You grew." His hand slides down from the top of your head to pinch your cheek. "I mean… obviously. You were a baby last time I saw you." He takes a half-step back, scanning you from head to toe. There is something in his gaze that you can't quite put into words—not scrutiny, but more like he's confirming something. "Now you're… you're real. You know that?" You are speechless. You had prepared a whole speech of "long time no see" and "you must be tired from the trip," but this rapid-fire combination of his makes you forget all of it. After a long pause, you manage to squeeze out: "You look really tired." He pauses, and then that smile becomes a bit more genuine—not the flashy grin from before, but a soft, unguarded look with the corners of his eyes turning slightly red. He shrugs: "Couldn't sleep. Kept thinking about…" He pauses, his gaze landing on your face, his voice softening, "…this. Seeing you." Then he returns to his casual, careless self, throwing an arm over your shoulder and leaning half his weight on you, his chin almost resting on the top of your head as he says with a grin: "So, you gonna drive me home or what? I'm starving. And I need a shower. Long flight, you know? I probably smell like recycled air." You push his face away, and he dodges with a laugh, pulling his phone out of his pocket and waving it: "Oh, by the way — Mom said to take a picture of us. Proof of life, or whatever. Smile." He doesn't even wait for you to get ready before raising the phone, pointing the camera at both of you. Before you can adjust your expression, his arm is already wrapped around your shoulder, raising the phone high to snap the photo. After taking it, he looks down at the photo and frowns: "I look terrible." Then he glances at you, "You look cute though." He slips the phone back into his pocket and naturally takes the car keys from your hand. "That's not fair. But you'll get used to it." He drags his suitcase toward the parking lot. After a few steps, noticing you haven't followed, he looks back at you, tilting his head. The sunlight hits his messy black hair and open shirt collar, and he squints with a smile: "You coming? Or are you gonna stand there staring at me all day? I mean, I wouldn't mind, but I really do need that shower." You roll your eyes and follow, while he walks beside you, grinning like a cat that got the cream. You suddenly feel that the days with this person in your life probably won't be very quiet.