The story of Tiffany and Xiang (Part I, English version)

Two and a half years ago, Xiang was transferred to work in City Z. It was a ten-hour drive from his home, so he rarely went back. Xiang, now thirty years old, was single and an ordinary office worker. His life was simple, with only a handful of friends. Most of the time, he was alone, enjoying reading and daydreaming.

About six months ago, a café opened below his office. Since Xiang had early meetings from Monday to Thursday, he only had time to buy a cup of coffee on Friday mornings. He was the first customer when the café opened. A a lovely young lady greeted him. About four weeks later, Xiang learned her name was Tiffany.

From the first time he bought coffee, Tiffany gave Xiang an extra cookie, saying it was a gift. He thanked her politely and tasted the cookie. It was a small, ordinary whole grain cookie, but with the hot coffee and the fresh morning air, it tasted sweet. He went to work satisfied. From then on, every Friday morning, he bought a cup of coffee there, and Tiffany would give him a cookie.

Autumn quickly turned to winter. One day, he woke up suddenly looking forward to Friday. Why does Tiffany always give me a cookie? Does she like me? Xiang blushed. It was Monday, and he had four days to wait before seeing her again. That day, he began imagining what Tiffany’s life was like: what kind of room she lived in, if she liked to read too, if she was alone, if she longed to talk to him.

Finally, Friday arrived, and he dressed more formally than usual. Tiffany gave him the cookie as usual, and he was too excited to say anything. He noticed Tiffany smiling at him, her eyes gently gazing at him. Summoning his courage, Xiang asked if she came from this city. Tiffany said yes, she had grown up here, her siblings worked nearby, and she had a cute dog at home. As Xiang was leaving, he noticed Tiffany called his name: "Goodbye, Xiang, see you next Friday!"

From then on, Xiang couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wanted to paint a portrait of Tiffany, even though he hadn’t picked up a brush in a long time. But when he put his heart into it, all his inspiration flooded back. He wanted to give her the painting one day, but for now, he hung it on his wall – it immediately brightened his room. Suddenly, he thought, if he were to invite Tiffany over, what meal should he cook? He took out his long-unused cookbook and started to practice. He was talented, and within a few attempts, he made delicious dishes.

Another Friday came, and he pretended to be casual as he went to buy coffee, hiding his excitement from Tiffany. He began asking her more questions, learning about her likes and dislikes. Although their interactions were only ten minutes each time, those ten minutes were what he waited for all week. He greedily enjoyed the time. His life became happy, and he fantasized about their future: when would they get married? Would he settle in this city for her? Would they have children? Each evening, she would come home to him, telling him about her day. He would listen peacefully, stroking her hair, and finally, they would fall asleep in each other’s arms. Every night, forever!

Xiang felt his painting wasn’t good enough, but he didn’t want to discard the portrait of Tiffany’s lovely face. So, he started creating more paintings, depicting her as an angel, with a sweet smile, either chasing butterflies in a field, or seriously making coffee. One Monday afternoon, he couldn’t wait until Friday anymore and sneaked to the café during his lunch break. The café was busy, and he easily hid by a table in the corner. Tiffany was busy making coffee. Ah, how beautiful she was!

At that moment, a man arrived, took his freshly made coffee, and sat next to him. Suddenly, Xiang noticed a cookie beside the man’s coffee, just like the one he got every Friday morning. He looked at the other tables, and another person had a cookie beside their coffee too. A third and fourth cookie appeared in his view. Some of the cookies weren’t even eaten, left cheaply on the trays... Xiang felt betrayed. He was breathless and rushed back home.

For a whole week, Xiang was very angry, although he couldn’t explain why. His fantasies had shattered. Those beautiful paintings now seemed to mock him from the walls. He didn’t want to go to the café or see Tiffany anymore. He felt she had deceived him. He immersed himself in his work. 

Another week passed, and his emotions gradually faded. He realized that Tiffany had never deceived him; it was his own fantasy that had taken him to another world: a world where they were in love and had an endless future together. Tiffany wasn’t a deceiver; she had always been kind to him. Xiang decided he would go to the café next Friday and greet Tiffany again. But this time, he would no longer have any expectations. He had loved her madly and then briefly hated her, but now it was all in the past. He was grateful for the highs and lows she had brought him. She would never know the turmoil in the heart of an ordinary office worker, and she would never know that on a very ordinary afternoon, their story came to an end.

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