Ding Zhitong returned Feng Sheng’s awkward smile, both feeling a sense of shared predicament.
In mid-December, Kang Village held its winter graduation ceremony.
Ding Zhitong had asked Gan Yang not to attend her cap and gown ceremony or look for her afterward.
Gan Yang was stunned by her request, taking a moment to realize she was serious.
“Why?” he asked gravely, demanding a reason.
Ding Zhitong admitted it was because her mother was coming.
Earlier, she had informed both parents about the graduation date.
Ding Yanming, far away, merely replied with a congratulatory email, asking for photos to show colleagues and friends.
Yan Aihua, just five hours away, immediately said she’d attend.
Ding Zhitong thought wryly of “Fortress Besieged,” where Fang Hongjian bought a Clayton University diploma because his father, a former imperial examination candidate, wanted to see the degree scroll, and his father-in-law, a businessman, wanted to see the contract. Her mother, having invested heavily in her education, naturally wanted to witness the graduation ceremony firsthand.
Gan Yang still didn’t understand why her mother’s presence meant he couldn’t attend.
Reluctant to discuss family matters, Ding Zhitong gave a generic reason, joking about a common maternal flaw: “If she sees you, she’ll immediately investigate your entire family background.”
She spoke jokingly, and Gan Yang initially shrugged it off, saying, “Let her investigate.” But then he realized his family might not withstand scrutiny.
Unable to find another reason, and with Gan Yang at a loss for words, Ding Zhitong’s arrangement was accepted.
Despite her teasing, when Ding Zhitong saw her mother’s silver Honda that had been driven for years outside the dorm on graduation day, she felt a warmth in her heart. Yan Aihua had left China in 1992 when Ding Zhitong was just starting first grade. This meant her mother had never attended any of her school events until this final graduation ceremony.
The ceremony was held in the auditorium. Winter graduates were mostly master’s and doctoral students, numbering only a few hundred, unlike the thousands at May graduations. Still, it was a sea of black caps and gowns with colorful sashes representing different colleges. With family and friends attending, the atmosphere was lively.
In English, it’s called “Commencement,” meaning both graduation and beginning. The president, professors, and student representatives gave speeches about the future, projecting ten or twenty years ahead. Ding Zhitong, typically unsentimental, found it both artificial and moving.
Song Mingmei was chosen as valedictorian and gave a speech. Her family wasn’t present, but Bian Jieming attended, watching admiringly from the guest seats.
With fewer winter graduates, names were called and diplomas handed out quickly. Ding Zhitong saw Feng Sheng just a few people ahead of her, but he never turned or spoke to her.
Since their dinner after she received her offer, there had been almost no contact between them. Ding Zhitong guessed Feng Sheng had probably heard about her and Gan Yang, possibly after deciding to stay in New York. This thought made her uncomfortable.
Sentimentally speaking, they were alumni from the same university, from application to graduation and job hunting. Realistically, M Bank and L Bank were both BB banks in Midtown Manhattan. They’d likely cross paths often – such a convenient professional network to lose over a small matter seemed unnecessary and unworthy.
She planned to talk to Feng Sheng after the ceremony, but whether due to the crowd or his intentional avoidance, they lost each other for a moment.
Song Mingmei came over for photos, with Mr. Bian as their photographer.
Ding Zhitong had heard much about Mr. Bian and finally met him in person. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, with a proper appearance, average build, well-exercised, and slightly tanned skin symbolizing his integration into mainstream society. His shirt and suit fit perfectly, moving with him as if part of his body, clearly bespoke and expensive. Also having left China in the early ’90s, he was a stark contrast to Yan Aihua.
After the photos, Song Mingmei introduced them. Ding Zhitong addressed him as “Mr. Bian,” but he was unpretentious, smiling and saying, “You can call me Ben.”
After the ceremony, Ding Zhitong returned her cap and gown, toured the campus with Yan Aihua, bought souvenirs at the Cornell Store, and then went to a restaurant.
Yan Aihua enjoyed herself, taking many photos and videos. Impressed by Bian Jieming, she asked Ding Zhitong during dinner, “What does your classmate’s boyfriend do?”
Uncertain about Song Mingmei’s numbered suitors’ status, Ding Zhitong simply said, “I think he runs a large financial company.”
Yan Aihua, intrigued, asked more about Song Mingmei – her age, hometown, and parents’ occupations. Ding Zhitong answered vaguely, sensing her mother’s implication: though Song Mingmei might be slightly prettier with a better family background, they were similar in other aspects – both young, unmarried women from top schools. Yan Aihua seemed to suggest Ding Zhitong should find a boyfriend of Mr. Bian’s caliber, or just slightly below.
This was exactly what Ding Zhitong had feared, silently grateful she hadn’t let Gan Yang meet her mother.
At that moment, she spotted Feng Sheng again.
Feng Sheng entered with his parents. Coincidentally, they had chosen the same restaurant out of many on campus. It wasn’t entirely surprising; they used to eat here often together. They caught each other’s eye from afar, both slightly startled.
Yan Aihua, following her daughter’s gaze, spoke first: “Isn’t that… your classmate from Shanghai?”
Yan Aihua had briefly met Feng Sheng at the airport when Ding Zhitong first arrived, apparently leaving a good impression. With a tour guide’s memory, she hadn’t forgotten.
Ding Zhitong had been wondering how to break the ice if they met again, but the problem solved itself unexpectedly.
Before she could say anything, Yan Aihua smiled and waved at them. Feng Sheng’s parents, assuming they were acquaintances of their son, approached smiling. Feng Sheng couldn’t pretend not to see and nodded at Ding Zhitong. She stood up and invited them: “It’s crowded, why don’t we sit together?”
Thus, the five of them shared a table. Ding Zhitong helped Feng Sheng buy meals for his parents. When they returned with trays, the three middle-aged adults were already chatting enthusiastically in the Shanghai dialect, creating a sense of familiarity in a foreign land.
That year, individual U.S. travel visas for Chinese citizens weren’t yet widely available. Feng Sheng’s parents had joined a ten-day tour group, traveling from the West Coast to New York. They had arranged with the tour leader to leave the group for the last two days to attend their son’s graduation.
They added an explanation: “Since we’re both from Shanghai and work in state-owned banks, the guide knew it would be fine and agreed.”
Why such importance for just a ceremony? Their family had produced many Ivy League alumni before 1949, but due to historical circumstances, there had been a gap of about sixty years until now.
Yan Aihua, understanding the implied background, wasn’t to be outdone. She mentioned her years in America, running a travel agency in New York, and living in Great Neck. Fearing they might not know the area, she added, “It’s at the westernmost part of Long Island, with ocean views.”
Feng Sheng’s father, somewhat familiar with this, remarked, “Long Island is a wealthy area. The houses must be expensive?”
“It’s not too bad,” Yan Aihua said modestly. “Per square foot, it’s not much more expensive than Shanghai. The houses are just bigger, usually detached villas, with even the smallest on an acre of land. But it’s worth buying; it’s one of the best school districts in America. Future children can easily attend Ivy League schools without fierce competition.”
“That’s right,” Feng Sheng’s mother agreed. “I’ve always told Xiao Sheng to start looking at houses after graduation. Staying in America is better. With a degree from a top school and capability, who would go back?”
The conversation then turned to Ding Zhitong and Feng Sheng’s jobs. Discovering they were equally impressive, both working at major Wall Street investment banks, the talk became even more animated. Both sets of parents urged their children to keep in touch, emphasizing mutual support in a foreign land.
Hearing his parents’ words, Feng Sheng sighed softly, looking apologetically at Ding Zhitong. After Yan Aihua’s speech, Ding Zhitong returned an awkward smile to Feng Sheng. They felt a sense of shared predicament.
The simple meal stretched on with the conversation.
As it got late, Yan Aihua needed to drive back to New York. They said their goodbyes and hurried to the parking lot. Ding Zhitong knew her mother had likely come without her husband’s knowledge, so she didn’t try to keep her, just asking her not to rush and to drive carefully.
Before parting, sitting in the passenger seat, Ding Zhitong took a book from her bag and handed her mother a check tucked inside.
Yan Aihua, initially unsure what it was, took it and looked at the amount, surprised.
“I didn’t use all the living expenses you gave me, saved some from my summer internship, and M Bank’s signing bonus and relocation fees just came through,” Ding Zhitong explained, implying she wasn’t short on money.
“Tongtong… you… didn’t have to do this so soon…” Yan Aihua replied lightly, though somewhat incoherently.
Despite the darkness and dim parking lot lights, Ding Zhitong could discern a look of relief on her mother’s face. She found this made her feel good.