012, Differences, Sleeping

The sudden strangeness jolted Gao Shen awake from his slumber. His eyes instantly turned deep and fathomless. In his gaze, the woman’s face bloomed with a gentle smile, her bright eyes and white teeth fixed upon him—was it her? Was he dreaming?

For a moment, Gao Shen, freshly roused from sleep, couldn’t distinguish whether the scene before him was a dream or reality.

Jing Qingxin watched Gao Shen as he stared blankly at her, their eyes meeting, yet he seemed dazed and unresponsive. She placed her backpack on the bedside table and asked with a light laugh, “Gao Shen? What are you daydreaming about?”

“Is it really you? You’re here?” The crisp, sweet voice entered his ears, and Gao Shen instantly realized he was not dreaming. He hurried to sit up, excitement in his words.

“Careful with your leg!” Jing Qingxin watched his abrupt movement and worried about his wound.

She quickly propped up the pillow behind his back, letting him sit more comfortably, then teased, “What’s the matter? Did you think I wouldn’t come? Or were you convinced you were still dreaming?”

Now fully awake, Gao Shen wore a serious expression, emotions carefully guarded, though his gaze flickered evasively. He cleared his throat and replied, “Ahem, it’s just that you hadn’t been here these past couple of days, so…”

Jing Qingxin’s smile sparkled. “I have my own life over there, you know. Besides, there’s a time difference between our two worlds.”

Hearing her mention having her own life, myriad thoughts flashed through Gao Shen’s mind, his mood stirring slightly. Steeling his composure, he asked in a low voice, “Time difference? Do you mean our times aren’t the same?”

“Bingo!” Jing Qingxin smiled, raising her hand and rubbing her thumb and finger together.

Gao Shen frowned slightly, looking at her in confusion. Most of her words he could piece together from context, the meanings generally aligned, though hers were more precise and succinct. Yet some peculiar terms left him utterly baffled.

Noticing Gao Shen’s expression, Jing Qingxin realized the linguistic differences between the eras. She smiled and explained, “Bingo means ‘correct’!”

“Oh,” Gao Shen nodded.

“I’ve traveled through time twice, and each stay here lasted a different amount of time. When I return to my era, the times don’t match up. So, I calculated the time difference: on your side, two days and nights passed—forty-eight hours—but on my side, only twelve hours went by. Does that explanation make sense?” Jing Qingxin explained in detail.

“Yes, but why is the time difference so great?” Gao Shen asked softly, perplexed.

“I’m not sure either. Maybe it’s something about the time tunnel. But I think it’s great—I get to spend more time here!” Jing Qingxin replied with a mischievous smile.

Looking at her radiant smile, Gao Shen felt the gloom accumulated over the past two days begin to dissipate. Suddenly, his gaze swept over Jing Qingxin’s attire. No longer was she oddly dressed with bare arms and legs, making it awkward for him to look directly or linger.

“So, how do I look? I rummaged through my wardrobe for this, trying to match your era’s style as closely as possible.” Jing Qingxin noticed his gaze, then spread her arms wide, playfully inviting his appraisal.

“Yes, much better than last time. But—your trousers…” Gao Shen commented sincerely.

“Last time I was wearing pajamas—they’re meant to be lightweight for sleeping. And what’s wrong with my trousers?” Jing Qingxin asked, genuinely pleased with her outfit and already planning to buy more like it when she returned.

“At your ankles, your trousers are still short—do people over there keep wearing old, too-short trousers out of thrift?”

In their brief time together, Gao Shen sensed that she lived in a prosperous era. What puzzled him was, if food and clothing weren’t a concern, why wear such obviously ill-fitting trousers?

In his own era, many impoverished families, with numerous children, would patch clothes endlessly. When children grew taller and their trousers grew short at the cuffs, they’d keep wearing them for another year or two, exposing their ankles, before passing them down to younger siblings.

Upon hearing his confusion, Jing Qingxin burst into laughter, clutching her stomach. His question was hilarious—her cropped trousers were considered fashionable, yet he thought they were worn out of thrift!

Unable to control herself, Jing Qingxin laughed heartily, imagining what he’d think if she showed up in denim shorts—would he believe she was a beggar?

Amused by the thought, she nearly forgot Gao Shen’s question. Indeed, in his era, everyone dressed conservatively in long clothes and trousers, even the colors were subdued—just a few deep shades, probably because they were less likely to show dirt.

Jing Qingxin saw Gao Shen’s face gradually darken and quickly composed herself, smiling as she explained, “In my era, every family lives well, no need to worry about food or clothes. These trousers are designed this way—they’re called cropped pants, only seven-tenths as long as full-length trousers. In our world, that’s called fashion, it’s trendy!”

“People of your era are so strange! Why not just wear full-length trousers? Why cut them short?” Gao Shen muttered quietly.

“That’s what makes it fashionable, trendy, cool! It’s about breaking tradition and being innovative!” Jing Qingxin declared firmly.

Gao Shen, unable to comprehend her new outfit, chose not to dwell on it any further—after all, she wasn’t from his era, so what could he demand?

Jing Qingxin turned to look at the dark sky outside the window and asked, “It’s still night—what time is it?”

Gao Shen raised his wrist and glanced at the old watch. “Three twenty-five in the morning,” he replied softly.

“Ah?! Dawn is still hours away. I won’t disturb your sleep—go ahead and lie down again,” Jing Qingxin said directly.

“What about you?” Gao Shen couldn’t help but ask.

Jing Qingxin looked around, speaking gently, “You don’t have another bed here. I’ll just sit on this wooden bench and rest for a while.”

Hearing she wouldn’t leave, Gao Shen felt instantly reassured, then suggested, “There’s a spare quilt in the cabinet. If you don’t mind, the bed is wide enough to split in two—you could wrap yourself in the quilt and sleep in the inner side. That would be more comfortable.”

The furnishings in the room were all very simple. The long wooden bench was only as wide as two hands put together—how could she rest sitting on it? After a while, her hips would ache, and she was a delicate woman—how could she bear it?