Chapter 23: Starlight Night Market
Jiang Muhe’s shoes were soaked, making it impossible for him to drive. He retrieved a spare pair of Burmese sandals from the car, put them on, and settled into the back seat.
Zhang He took the driver’s seat. Liang Youyun paused for a moment, then opened the rear door and got in.
As they entered the car, their eyes met. Youyun slightly looked away without saying a word, though the corners of her mouth lifted subtly. Muhe remained silent as well, feeling a surge of warmth rise from his heart to his throat.
Zhang He first drove back to the hotel. Youyun needed to return to her room to change clothes before coming back down so they could head together to the evening’s Starlight Night Market.
Taking advantage of the brief moment while Youyun went upstairs, Jiang Muhe asked Zhang He from inside the car. His tone was hesitant, yet it was clear he had been pondering this question for quite some time: “Last time at the Riverside Bar, I heard you say that Youyun has dated… many boyfriends?”
Zhang He immediately understood his meaning. When a man asks about a woman’s past, it usually indicates he has feelings for her, which is why he cares about her exes. His hand unconsciously stroked and squeezed the steering wheel; as Youyun’s best friend, he felt responsible for shielding her from unsuitable suitors.
“I recall there were five or six. Not bad, considering she’s already in her thirties.”
“Oh.”
Jiang Muhe gazed out the window at the falling night. The sky was a grayish-blue, adorned with ribbon-like colorful clouds. She too was a beautiful cloud—so lovely, so kind. It was impossible that no one had pursued her.
“Are you wondering what type of man Liang Youyun likes?” Zhang He smiled.
Muhe also smiled, offering no concealment as he replied, “Yes.”
Zhang He sighed with a teasing tone. “To be honest, her ex-boyfriends offer no reference for you at all. They were an eclectic mix from all walks of life; in fact, you and them aren’t even the same type.”
Jiang Muhe frowned, hesitating before saying, “It seems she enjoys trying new things.”
“She does like him,” Zhang He sighed. “It’s just a pity she’s always the one who gets hurt.”
“Victimized?”
“Yes. Her judgment is terrible, she’s overly emotional, and she keeps falling for scumbags.”
“Does she know you think that of her?” Muhe asked curiously.
“She does. But it doesn’t help; she just keeps making the same mistakes even after being told.”
Zhang He gave examples: “For instance, her first love was during her sophomore year. She had a crush on a senior and finally gathered the courage to confess. He agreed to date her, but before anything substantial developed, he got involved with his female boss at the company where he’d signed his employment contract and dumped her! After starting work, she met a teacher from a sports university through a classmate’s introduction. Liang Youyun wanted to take things slowly to build an emotional connection, but the man found her too reserved, couldn’t wait, and ended up cheating on her. Liang Youyun cried so hard back then, wondering if she simply lacked charm.”
“The one I remember most clearly is the last. He was a colleague who joined our unit at the same time as her. He claimed it was love at first sight and pursued her for a long time until she finally agreed. But soon afterward, a female coworker told her that while he was chasing her, he was also pursuing someone else; she just happened to win him over first. This time, she actually stood her ground and slapped him in the face with a project proposal. Unfortunately, the freshly printed paper was so sharp it nearly disfigured him, and they even had to go to the police station for mediation.”
“…Did she cry over this one too?” Jiang Muhe found it increasingly fascinating; what a vividly real woman she was.
“She did. Afterwards, she asked me if she was too violent and lacked femininity.”
“What did you say?”
“I said, ‘Why didn’t you beat him to death!'”
Muhe smiled faintly.
“She’s straightforward and blunt, never sparing anyone’s feelings in the moment, yet afterward she reflects on herself, constantly replaying events in her mind, even regretting her words.”
Zhang He’s words brimmed with anger: “Sometimes I just don’t get her. Why is it that a woman who does perfectly well in both life and work keeps getting weighed down by love? She always accepts relationships so easily, yet each man she chooses seems worse than the last. It makes no sense.”
Worse than the last?
Fine.
Jiang Muhe fell silent for a moment.
Glancing at the hotel entrance and still seeing no sign of Youyun, I turned to Zhang He and said, “I’ve heard it said that people wounded by love constantly seek new relationships to heal themselves, much like someone who loses a pet gets another one to ease the pain.”
“That makes sense.”
Zhang He felt that Jiang Muhe was steady and reliable, not some greasy man drooling over women or fishing for information with subtle hints. So he opened up and told him:
“Liang Youyun’s parents divorced when she was very young. She and her mother came to Beijing to live with her uncle. Unfortunately, her mother fell ill and passed away just a few years later. At that time, Youyun was nearing the completion of her master’s degree and had already received an offer from our company, but she never got the chance to tell her mother.”
Zhang He didn’t consider himself sentimental, yet as he reached this point, his voice suddenly choked up. Sniffing back tears, he continued:
“She has suffered so much inside… Always seeking validation from others, longing for love from the opposite sex, just to prove she isn’t alone… Sadly, fate keeps playing tricks on her.”
“Do you know how she ended up in Yunnan? She worked diligently in the General Manager’s Office for ten years, with promotion within reach. Then the group conducted a surprise inspection and found issues with the meeting minutes. Yet every single minute she handled had been signed off by her superiors. Rumors even spread within the company that she had accepted benefits from partners. She reported her superiors to the group headquarters, but both of them had powerful protectors. In the end, she had no choice but to become the scapegoat.”
“Fortunately, the company had a village-stationed project. To put it plainly, it was a demotion. Few people volunteered for it; those who did went only to accumulate grassroots experience before transferring to more important departments. But she had no choice. If she didn’t take that position, she would have been forced out.”
The air inside the car felt heavy. As night fell, sparse lights from outside the hotel cast irregular shadows across the faces of the two men.
Jiang Muhe remained silent, yet he was acutely aware of the feelings stirring within him. That dull, aching sensation surged again, like a venomous snake injecting its poison, swiftly numbing his taut nerves. Instinctively, he clenched his fist, then released it, drawing a deep breath.
Zhang He sensed his turmoil and felt he had spoken too much without yet reaching the core of the matter. Smiling at the scenery outside the car window, he said:
“I hope her next relationship will be lasting and fulfilling, one that won’t end because a man committed something shameful, nor one entered into impulsively only to lead nowhere.”
A car passed by, its sharp beams of light piercing through the heavy silence inside the vehicle.
Zhang He calmed down and said with a smile, “Fortunately, Liang Youyun has an optimistic personality. Even when she’s injured or going through hardships, it never stops her from enjoying a good meal; she can spot delicious food at a glance. Look how healthy she is—she appears seven or eight years younger than her peers!”
Jiang Muhe offered a faint smile.
He knew Zhang He was hinting at something. Yet he still chose not to respond, simply because he felt no need to bare his soul to others, nor any obligation to immediately declare his stance or attitude. Some matters cannot be resolved through personal analysis alone; they depend on timing, on changing circumstances, and on fate.
After a moment of silence, he changed the subject and said to Zhang He, “If you’re still interested in collaborating on the salt stone project, I’m willing to give it a try.”
This statement struck like a thunderbolt. Zhang He had never expected that using his good friend’s information would finally loosen Jiang Muhe’s stance, even though that had never been his intention.
Of course, thinking this way was too cynical. It was also possible that his own persistent persuasion over a long period, combined with the momentum from the morning meeting, had led Jiang Muhe to reevaluate the current situation. In Jiang’s own words, the timing was finally right.
Before Zhang He could respond, the glass window was tapped a few times. Liang Youyun, who had appeared outside the car without anyone noticing, flashed Jiang Muhe a bright smile, pulled open the door, and climbed in.
“What were you two talking about?” Youyun sat beside Muhe, took a deep breath, and remarked, “Hmm, a strong scent of masculinity.”
Muhe thought he might smell, having waded through the flower garden’s water, so he quickly lowered his head and sniffed left and right. “Do I smell that bad?”
Zhang He scoffed. “We’re not stinky men!”
Youyun was amused; she leaned closer to Muhe, blinked her eyes, and whispered, “It’s the scent of incense.”
Muhe gazed at her. In the shadows, she seemed so vivid that his heart softened.
“Let’s go to the Starlight Night Market!” Youyun rubbed her hands together, brimming with excitement; there were surely countless delicious treats waiting at the night market!
Zhang He turned to glance at the two of them. Some sudden impulse told him it was no longer appropriate for him to stay—perhaps because he felt Jiang Muhe seemed reliable enough, or because they had proactively expressed their willingness to collaborate, or simply because it was indeed time for him to head home.
He smiled and said, “I won’t be joining you at the Starlight Night Market. You two have fun—it’s getting late, and I really need to head home now!”
She gestured to Youyun, “You drive. Make sure Mr. Jiang is well taken care of.”
“Of course. Mr. Jiang is one of our key potential clients,” Youyun replied as she stepped out of the car.
Jiang Muhe smiled, pressing a hand to his forehead, then followed her out and took the front passenger seat.
The Starlight Night Market lies right beside the Lancang River. As night falls, it transforms into a fairytale world aglow with dazzling lights.
The night market was packed, making it difficult to find parking; after struggling for quite some time, they finally managed to secure a spot. Youyun got out of the car and complained, “If only we’d taken a taxi! Is literally everyone in the country here?”
Jiang Muhe shrugged. “It is, after all, Asia’s largest night market.”
“I heard things here are a bit pricey.”
“With so many tourists, it’s easy to make money here, so yes, prices are definitely higher than outside. But the quality is decent. Locals sometimes visit the riverside night market too. If you could stay one more day, I would have taken you there.”
Youyun smiled. “No way, I’m too busy with work!”
Muhe stayed by her side as they scanned their IDs for real-name entry at the gate. He kept feeling the urge to take her hand.
It wasn’t out of romantic love; he just thought holding hands would make strolling around more enjoyable. Courage welled up within him like a spring, yet he still couldn’t bring himself to act. Sometimes relationships between men and women are strange: even after carrying each other on their backs and embracing, something as simple as holding hands becomes daunting.
Their arms would occasionally brush against each other, only to pull apart quickly. Her skin felt cool to the touch, yet it ignited warmth within him. He clenched his fist, then released it, finally deciding to keep that courage hidden in his heart.
The buildings in the night market all feature pointed Dai-style roofs, glowing golden from head to toe once the lights are turned on. Soothing music fills the air, and numerous photo spots adorned with Dai cultural elements abound.
The famous Grand Golden Pagoda of Jinghong City stands at the highest point of the night market. Illuminated at night, its golden silhouette is beautifully outlined, appearing even more majestic and grand. Many young women having travel photos taken stand by the bridge or sit on the steps, dressed in vibrant Dai attire, holding small umbrellas, as photographers direct them to strike various poses.
“There are hot air balloons too!” Youyun exclaimed excitedly, quickening her pace as she weaved through the crowd.
Jiang Muhe stayed right behind her, perfectly shielding her from people jostling past.
“Shall we grab something to eat first?” Muhe asked. “Anything you’re craving?”
Youyun pointed to the nearest stall. “Let’s try this one then—Vietnamese rice rolls.”
Muhe nodded and smiled at her. “Zhang He was right; you know what’s delicious at a glance.”
“Zhang He, that big mouth, ruined my image,” Youyun sneered.
“I’ll have the family portrait set,” Muhe told the owner, clearly familiar with the place.
After eating, they continued strolling. Jiang Muhe pointed at an insect stall and asked if she wanted to try some bugs; she quickly shook her head, saying she was afraid.
Muhe also bought Lao iced coffee, served in a paper carry bag lined with a plastic sleeve, ready to drink with a straw.
Youyun also ordered pounded chicken feet, remarking that they weren’t as delicious as those made in the village, and certainly couldn’t compare to Auntie Yunan’s!
We then headed to Thai Street, where there were many Thai people.
Thai cuisine tends to be sweet and spicy, unlike the sour and spicy flavors preferred here in Xishuangbanna.
Youyun ate a banana durian balada while looking at the winding Thai script on the signs, asking Muhe if he could read them.
Muhe replied that he could recognize most of them; they were very similar to the Dai language, with seventy to eighty percent of the vocabulary shared, though some words differed in usage and pronunciation.
The two then moved to a stall selling Blang ethnic group’s sticky rice balls, where Muhe remarked that these were likely the most delicious rice balls at the night market.
Although already quite full, Youyun’s appetite was whetted anew. Pointing at the menu, she said, “I’ll have the peanut, sesame, and seaweed base, three-colored sticky rice, along with Chinese sausage, long beans, and sour bamboo shoots, as well as this eggplant nam prik!”
“I’ll have two,” Muhe said.
The stall was crowded, and his hand hovered protectively over Youyun’s shoulder. She could feel the warmth of his palm and the scent of his body; inexplicably, her own heart began to warm as well.
Sometimes she wondered: a mature woman who had already experienced love and sex—why did she still feel such intense flutterings in her heart? Shouldn’t this be an age when one is impervious to such things, or perhaps an age when one no longer believes in love?
She once watched an interview in which a beautiful elderly woman declared that she could not live without love; even after frequently changing lovers, divorcing, and remarrying, she remained willing to believe in love again. Youyun had thought her foolish; apart from love, there were so many other fascinating and meaningful pursuits in life—how could one trap oneself in something like this?
But, but, she cried out in her heart: My dearest friends, this slight trembling of the heart, these surging waves of warmth, this uncontrollable urge to draw closer—it truly feels wonderful!
It had been so long since she last felt this way; upon reflection, perhaps she never had.
This was different from unrequited love, where one suffers alone in silence. This was a mutual understanding, yet bound by duty, requiring restraint—pretending not to care, pretending it didn’t matter—while their affection for each other poured forth unrestrained through glances, breaths, and touches. Every pore felt sweet, tingling.
Falling in love, heartbreak, falling again, breaking again—she had used this cycle to numb herself, only to realize in the end that she was merely tormenting herself, never finding true resonance with another soul.
She never expected to meet a man like him in Xishuangbanna. Only then did she realize just how addicted she had become to Jiang Muhe. His care, his protection, his companionship, even the occasional moments when he made her laugh, all left her longing for more.
So annoying.
Why did it have to be Jiang Muhe?
Why did he have to stay here?
Why… did they only meet now?