003 Awkward Encounter with the Handsome Stranger Again

I patted Lianpian’s shoulder reassuringly. “Alright, don’t get so worked up. This kind of thing has nothing to do with us—we’re not like those women wrapped head to toe in black.”

Lianpian twirled a strand of hair around her finger and smiled softly. “That’s not so certain. If one day Muslims adopt polyandry, I might just consider converting.”

We laughed as we chatted, searching along the way, and before we knew it, we had reached Professor Emodin’s office door. I waved to Lianpian. “I’ll go in first to find the supervisor. See you later.”

“Alright, I’ll look around on my own.”

Standing by the door, I took a deep breath to steady my nerves, then carefully knocked. After receiving permission, I finally pushed the door open.

Inside the office were already three people. Sitting in the main seat was a Western man in his forties, with chestnut hair and a prominent nose. His skin bore a healthy bronze hue, weathered by years under Dubai’s fierce sun. This had to be my supervisor, Professor Emodin. The name "Emodin" was an English name I had chosen for myself, somewhat echoing the sound of my Chinese name, Xixi.

Upon hearing my name, Professor Emodin immediately stood and shook my hand warmly, then introduced the other two people in the office.

“These two, like you, are new master’s students. This year, I’ve only taken in three students,” he said, pointing to one of them. “This is Singh, from southern India, a Sikh.”

Singh had a tea-stained complexion, slender and tall, with features that in China would be considered typical of a migrant worker.

Then Professor Emodin pointed to the man in white robes beside Singh. “This is Ayub, a local from Dubai.”

I nodded in acknowledgment. Looking at Ayub in his white robes, I suddenly recalled the handsome man we had seen earlier in the lobby. This must be the friend he mentioned. Ayub’s temperament was noticeably more outgoing; his broad grin was enough to brighten the plain white robes he wore.

During this meeting, Professor Emodin made no mention of academic matters. Instead, he showed genuine interest in our life situations and future plans. Only at the end did he have us copy some academic materials to prepare for upcoming courses and research.

I was the first to finish copying the materials, packed the USB drive into my bag, and left the office. Just as I stepped out, Lianpian hurriedly grabbed my arm and whispered, “Xixi, emergency! The supermarket downstairs doesn’t sell sanitary pads. Do you have any spare?”

“Wait a moment, I’ll check.” I sat down on a bench in the corridor and rummaged through the clutter in my bag until I found a spare pad, which I handed to her.

She took it quickly and was about to dash to the restroom when her steps faltered. I looked up and saw the same handsome Arab man from before emerging from the elevator. He glanced at the item in Lianpian’s hand, then at my messy bag, frowning slightly.

Such a scene might be trivial back home, perhaps just a teasing moment, but I wasn’t sure if it was taboo in conservative Arab culture. In a city where even public displays of affection like kissing or holding hands could be criminalized, I had both longing and fear for Dubai. Yet, I still couldn’t distinguish which behaviors might violate local customs. Lianpian clearly realized this too; she quickly hid her hand behind her back, lowered her head, and hurried into the restroom.

The empty corridor was left with only the Arab gentleman and me. His frown was inscrutable. I bent down to tidy up the scattered items, and when I looked up, he had turned away, no longer looking at me. I forced a faint apologetic smile and murmured “sorry,” though I wasn’t even sure if the apology was necessary.

Clearly, though this handsome man carried himself with gentlemanly grace, the mere sight of a sanitary pad in broad daylight had unsettled him somewhat. Living in Dubai, a cosmopolitan hub, he was accustomed to friendly interactions with people from all over the world, but at his core, he remained a devout Muslim, steadfast in his religious observance.

“Xixi, why are you still here?” Ayub’s voice interrupted the awkwardness. He had just finished copying materials and was stepping out of the professor’s office.

I was about to answer when I saw Lianpian approaching like a savior. She quickly stood and forced a smile. “I was just waiting for a friend. Now that she’s here, we’ll be going.”

Ayub didn’t notice the tension between the handsome man in white and me. He nodded lightly. “Alright, goodbye. My friend has been waiting for me as well.” Then he walked toward the man, and the two began speaking rapidly in Arabic—a language I couldn’t understand.

I pulled Lianpian away in haste. If the earlier incident had indeed offended the Arab gentleman, and if he reported it to Ayub, it would only add another layer of awkwardness to my future interactions with him.

Back at the hotel, I lay on the soft bed, drowsy and wanting to sleep. But the moment I closed my eyes, my mind grew restless. Before coming to Dubai, I had heard so many stories about its luxury and dazzling splendor, yet beneath this façade of opulence lay so much I had yet to understand. Some called it paradise; others likened it to hell. What would it be to me?

Unable to find any clear answers, I got out of bed and decided to review the materials Professor Emodin had given me.

I rummaged through my bag, but the USB drive was nowhere to be found. I had it when I left the professor’s office—where could it have gone?

Pondering deeply, a sudden thought struck me: I must have pulled it out while helping Lianpian find the sanitary pads. Feeling uneasy because of the handsome man’s disapproval, I might have hastily packed some things and forgotten the USB drive. If no one else took it, it should still be on the bench outside the professor’s office.

With this in mind, I took a taxi back to the office building. Yet, despite circling outside door 707, I saw no sign of the USB drive.

In truth, there was nothing particularly important on it—just regular study materials and some sets of photos where I wore a qipao. Sometimes graceful and subtle, sometimes vibrant and striking, these images showed a side of me vastly different from my everyday self. But if strangers were to misinterpret them, it could certainly cause discomfort.