Tomorrow would be November 11th， Singles’ Day. The whole country seemed to be more than ready to celebrate it wholeheartedly， without any official recognition， though. I got a text message from this guy named Yang.
　　“Hey， are you free tomorrow？ Why don’t we go out and have some fun together？” My heart pounded fiercely as I read the message. I sensed that it could be the last time I contributed to this nationwide craze for celebrating， or should I put it as lamenting over2， being single.
　　“I think so. I’m free so far. I will let you know if I can’t make it.” I reedited the message several times， pondering over every single word so as not to accidentally disclose any sign of excitement as I always did， but the rest of the day then was all about me obsessed with endless fantasies about the romantic beginning of a romantic relationship. It surely was the longest November 10th ever.
　　The next morning. Single’s Day. Standing outside my dorm building， I looked up and took a deep breath， closing my eyes gently to allow the sunshine to stroke all over my face. I didn’t look in the mirror， but was convinced that my face must be radiant with smiles.3 Recovering from the temporary blindness the bright sunshine caused me， I found Yang waiting in the distance. After today， I would set myself free and run toward him， with both arms wide open. But there I was， walking toward him with grace and poise4.
　　We went to the beach together. There were tourists scattered here and there. The buildings of Macau were a narrow strait away from us. We sat next to each other， having random talks from time to time， but the main recreation is to listen to the sound of waves lapping against the shore. I usually had no problem staying with him doing nothing， but at that moment， somehow， waves’ lapping felt boring and “doing nothing” seemed utterly awkward.
　　“Mister， please buy a rose for this beautiful lady！” A little boy， who， with a basket of roses in his hand， was standing in front of us， interrupted the silence. I could feel my cheeks had flushed5 red.
　　“Yes， this is the moment！” I thought. “He’s gonna do this！ Eventually， he’s doing this！ It’s a little bit old-fashioned， but who cares！ It’s still sweet and romantic to make this whole plan in advance. Hahahahaha…” I tried very hard to keep that laughter in my mind. My face must have twisted in a grimace of not pain， but excitement.6 It was really tiring because every single cell inside me seemed to be trembling in ecstasy7.