◎ Am I Your Favourite Person in This House? ◎

Gu Qiao turned the question back on Zhao Yue: “Surely you don’t think my cousin isn’t kind.”

Trust her to go straight for the heart of the matter. Zhao Yue laughed: “I mean that your cousin has many other wonderful qualities as well — you might want to discover them for yourself. Hearing how much you value kindness, I’m suddenly inclined to introduce you to Xiao Jia. Even your cousin has to admit that man is kind.” Though the girl who’d caught Xiao Jia’s eye hadn’t been drawn to him for his kindness — she’d had her eye on Luo Peiyin all along. Afterward, when Luo Peiyin withdrew from the band, Xiao Jia, in all sincerity, had thought it was his own fault and magnanimously urged Luo Peiyin to bravely pursue love and not let friendship hold him back.

“At the time, Xiao Jia was already in university, and he was still folding a thousand paper cranes for a girl.” Zhao Yue recalled that enormous jar of paper cranes Xiao Jia had folded, and could barely contain his laughter at the memory. He’d thought: this man’s brain really does work differently from everyone else’s. Utterly guileless and innocent, yet drawn to the wild and carefree type.

Gu Qiao took this as a fine example being held up for admiration: “That shows he’s very attentive.”

Zhao Yue looked at Luo Peiyin with a grin: “Didn’t I say so? Uncut jade always finds someone who can tell its worth.”

Luo Peiyin tapped the rim of Zhao Yue’s glass twice with his fingers: “You’ve been talking a lot. Have some water.”

In the brief silence that followed, Luo the Fourth caught the Debussy being played in the restaurant and immediately announced the title, waiting for someone to praise him.

Gu Qiao obligingly gave him a thumbs up: “What a sharp ear you have.”

The other two paid no attention. Luo the Fourth thought to himself: this cousin of mine really is the best. Thinking how this was Gu Qiao’s first time here, Luo the Fourth decided to guide her, and proceeded to earnestly explain Western dining etiquette, showing Gu Qiao the proper way to hold her knife, fork, and glass. His mother had corrected his technique against proper standards; this was, reportedly, the posture considered most correct in matters of etiquette — and his mother had done it for his own good. Now, for his cousin’s good, he spared no effort in meticulously correcting her as well.

Gu Qiao had been drilling away in the kitchen for days now, and a small Western table knife posed no challenge whatsoever; she could cut through a steak with smooth precision. But with Luo the Fourth methodically instructing her beside her, she truly had no idea where to put her hands anymore. She couldn’t even hear the difference between what he was describing and what she was already doing. Any knife was essentially the same — could someone who could expertly wield a Chinese cleaver really not know how to use a set of Western cutlery? Knowing her little cousin meant well, Gu Qiao was about to say, “Don’t torment me, I’ll just do it my way — you eat yours.”

Before she could get the words out, she heard Luo Peiyin say to his brother: “I’ve never heard of any universally recognized standard like that. Let your cousin do it her own way — there’s no right or wrong when it comes to what feels natural.”

Zhao Yue seldom felt embarrassed on others’ behalf, but today he had a pang of sympathy for Gu Qiao. The way Luo the Fourth had been instructing her, it was as if Gu Qiao had never eaten in her life and needed a small child to teach her hand by hand. He couldn’t see anything wrong with the way she was holding her utensils. He knew what it was like to be a child and to want to show off in front of people, but using Gu Qiao as a vehicle to demonstrate over and over how well he knew Western dining etiquette was somewhat excessive — completely ignoring her dignity. The fact that Gu Qiao hadn’t turned red with embarrassment was already impressive. If it had been his own little brother, he’d have given him a swift kick and told him to shut up immediately. But it was someone else’s family matter, and it wasn’t his place to intervene. He could tell that Luo Peiyin’s annoyance at the Fourth’s incessant chatter outweighed any particular concern for Gu Qiao — after all, he wasn’t his own brother, so he couldn’t say anything too harsh.

Still, Zhao Yue made a new observation. He now noticed that Luo Peiyin genuinely did not have the sort of interest in this girl that he’d previously suspected. Gu Qiao was related to the Gu family side — with her little cousin treating her this way, life in this house must be quite difficult for her; no wonder she clung to Luo Peiyin, this cousin with no blood connection to her. Gu Qiao was clever enough — she kept saying how kind her cousin was, deliberately placing Luo Peiyin on a pedestal so high that he had no choice but to live up to it and treat her well. But she’d picked the wrong person for that strategy. Luo Peiyin had been flattered into callousness long ago — that kind of talk went in one ear and out the other. That thank-you letter was probably another attempt to curry favor with him. Regrettably she had overplayed her hand; others might have been won over by the letter, but Luo Peiyin himself would only find the exaggeration laughable.

There was one thing that genuinely puzzled Zhao Yue, however: Luo Peiyin had not taken Gu Qiao to task over the letter, nor had he given this cousin with no blood connection a cold reception and kept her at arm’s length. He’d even brought Gu Qiao along to eat with them. Could it be that in the two weeks since he’d last seen him, Luo Peiyin had elevated himself to a level Zhao Yue could no longer fathom?

Luo the Fourth, for his part, did not think his second brother had elevated himself at all. He said “good” with his mouth but nursed a growing resentment toward him in his heart. Gu Qiao was his cousin — if he wanted to instruct her, what business was it of his second brother’s? And saying he’d never heard of this standard of his — as if everything he’d just taught her was a joke. He shot a sideways glance at Gu Qiao and noticed she had reverted to her original way of using the utensils. Not a trace of his instruction remained in her hands. His cousin probably found his second brother more authoritative. Second brother was really so annoying — monopolizing Father’s attention at home was bad enough, and never mind that Grandma only ever cooked to his taste. But now second brother had to take up all of Gu Qiao’s attention too, and she was his relative! It was truly too much.

Thinking this, despite eating his favourite dessert, Luo the Fourth did not enjoy the meal much at all.

At this point Zhao Yue’s pager went off. He looked at the number and said to Luo Peiyin: “You all go ahead and eat. Old Cao paged me — I’ll go return the call.” As he stood up, his gaze drifted to a man at another table holding a large mobile phone. “One of these days I’m going to get one of those for myself.”

When Zhao Yue came back, he said to Luo Peiyin: “They knew I was with you and insisted on coming to find you, so I arranged to meet them in the café downstairs.”

When the meal was finished, Luo Peiyin settled the bill, and Zhao Yue turned to Gu Qiao with a smile: “Would you like to come down for a coffee?”

—

“Thank you, but no.” Gu Qiao had heard Zhao Yue say they were meeting others in the café downstairs — it wouldn’t be appropriate for her to tag along.

Luo Peiyin took two notes from his pocket and handed them to Gu Qiao: “Take a taxi home with the Fourth.”

He didn’t carry much cash, which was why he’d taken to just tossing his wallet aside. His mother’s gift of a wallet was supposedly worth several hundred US dollars — it was being wasted on such meager contents; what was inside was worth far less than the wallet itself.

“Cousin, don’t bother — I have money. The two of us can take the subway home. Don’t worry, I’ve been here long enough now — I absolutely won’t get lost, and I guarantee I’ll get the Fourth home safely.” She had yet to take the subway even once since arriving. She’d recently read in a paper that the 1990s were almost here, and the current subway fare was still set at the same price from many years ago — no longer matching the cost of operations, and it was time to consider raising the price. But for Gu Qiao, even a twenty-cent subway ticket wasn’t exactly cheap. She intended to ride the subway at least once before the fare went up.

“Alright. Tonight you don’t need to cook as much as before — I’ll bring a few dishes back from the restaurant. Just make a couple of things at home.”

Gu Qiao figured her cousin must have an important guest that evening and was specifically bringing food in from outside. A chef with decades of experience would certainly do better than a newcomer like herself. She agreed, and once the elevator brought them down to the lobby, she said goodbye to Luo Peiyin and Zhao Yue, then took Luo the Fourth by the hand and headed for the exit.

At the hotel entrance, she told Luo the Fourth to wait there — she’d be right back. She dashed back inside, and as she approached Luo Peiyin, her foot nearly slid out from under her on the polished floor. Luo Peiyin caught her. Gu Qiao steadied herself, looking faintly embarrassed.

He hadn’t even had the chance to ask what she needed so urgently before the words were already tumbling out of her: “Cousin, what dishes are you planning to order from the restaurant? I don’t want to make the same thing again. And if there’s anything you’re craving that you’re not planning to order there, I can make it for you.” The meal had not been cheap, and as a small way of thanking her cousin for including her, Gu Qiao felt she should make some gesture. Worried Luo Peiyin might be too polite to say, she gave him five options and told him to pick one.

Once Gu Qiao had gone, Zhao Yue chuckled beside Luo Peiyin: “This cousin of yours is quite something. She’s a little out of her league being a housekeeper.”

“If you genuinely think so, feel free to recommend her for a good position.”

—

It was Gu Qiao’s first time on the subway, but she navigated herself and Luo the Fourth into the carriage and off to their destination with ease. Since arriving in this city, she’d experienced many firsts, all of which she’d adapted to quickly. Gu Qiao gained one more measure of confidence in herself — she really was as capable as she’d hoped she would be, and there was no need to worry about making a living in the future.

The subway was cooler than outside. The train had been imported from abroad; it had luggage racks above the seats. An elderly white-haired woman boarded the car to find no available seats, and Gu Qiao immediately gave hers up. She stood beside Luo the Fourth, glancing at him from time to time to make sure he didn’t wander off.

Luo the Fourth was growing more and more disgruntled. Gu Qiao was his cousin — why did second brother have to muscle in? Didn’t he already have enough sisters and female cousins of his own?

He fixed his eyes on Gu Qiao and asked: “Cousin, am I your favourite person in this house?”

The words “favourite person in this house” gave Gu Qiao pause — no answer came readily to her. By her position here, she should — she must — say her cousin-aunt, because her cousin-aunt had helped her, and she could feel her cousin-aunt’s kindness toward her; but there was a touch of “I have little choice” to that kindness, and she could sense that her cousin-aunt was perpetually calculating whether she was worth the investment. Say her cousin was her favourite? She knew her cousin was good to her, and it was partly because he was kind-hearted and partly because she was her cousin-aunt’s relative. Saying her cousin was her favourite would not only give everyone else ideas — even her cousin himself might not be entirely comfortable with it.

But she didn’t lie to Luo the Fourth. She smiled and said: “Of everyone in this house, you and I know each other the best.” That was true. The person she interacted with most in the Luo family was Luo the Fourth — he frequently talked through recipes with her, and a great deal of what she had come to understand about this household had come through him.

Luo the Fourth was happy again. He assumed that country people were more reserved and wouldn’t wear their feelings on their sleeve the way he did. If his cousin said she knew him best, that was no different from saying she liked him best.

Content in this thought, Luo the Fourth said to Gu Qiao: “You and I are the real relatives. Without my mother’s connection, second brother would be no different from a stranger to you. If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have taken you out for Western food either.”

—

From the subway station to home, Gu Qiao stepped through the door to find her aunt sitting in the living room.

Luo the Fourth told his mother that second brother had taken them out for Western food and then let the two of them make their own way home. “Cousin and I came back on the subway — it was fairly packed, and in summer there’s a bit of a smell.”

Mrs. Luo listened, then asked Gu Qiao: “Why didn’t your cousin drop you home?”

“My cousin had things to do. He was going to give me money for a taxi. I was the one who turned it down and decided to take the Fourth back on the subway.”

Mrs. Luo felt Gu Qiao had been right not to take the money from Luo Peiyin, so she didn’t really reproach her. She only said: “Don’t take him on the subway again. The subway’s been packed these past few years, and it’s crowded — children have low immunity, and if he catches something it’ll be trouble. The money I gave you earlier doesn’t have to be used only for groceries; you can use it whenever you need to take a taxi or for anything else that comes up. If it runs out, just ask me for more. We’re family — you don’t need to be so careful about these things.” Mrs. Luo felt Luo Peiyin should have called a taxi, seen Gu Qiao and his little brother into it, and then gone on to his own business. The hotel entrance would have been easy to hail one from — it wouldn’t have taken any effort at all, certainly more than just handing over some cash and leaving. His little brother was still young, and Gu Qiao had only just arrived from the countryside not long ago; leaving the two of them to find their own way out of a hotel was somewhat irresponsible. She thought this, but didn’t say it aloud.

Luo the Fourth muttered to himself: “I’m not that fragile.” Hearing that his mother had given his cousin money — seemingly beyond wages — he wondered how much. And his cousin had wages on top of that. He’d get his cousin to treat him to KFC next time. Both his eldest sister and second brother had treated him before — it was time it was Cousin Gu Qiao’s turn.

Mrs. Luo then asked Gu Qiao what she was planning for dinner, and upon hearing that Luo Peiyin was having food brought in from a restaurant, she was quietly puzzled — why had the Second suddenly taken an interest in the kitchen today? She’d never seen Luo Peiyin make any special gestures for the Zhou family’s visits before. Mrs. Luo didn’t let her puzzlement show; she simply told Gu Qiao to follow Luo Peiyin’s lead, then specifically sent Old Qian to drive to the cake shop that Zhou family’s daughter was particularly fond of, to buy tiramisu.

“Go practice your piano!” Mrs. Luo chased her son upstairs, then stepped into Gu Qiao’s small room, closed the door, and said: “You’ve been worried about finding work, haven’t you? Your Uncle Zhou Zan made a single phone call and sorted it out. In a few days, once the new term starts, you’ll go to work in Z University’s General Affairs Office. The work is fairly easy — you’ll have time to review your studies. Once you have a night school diploma down the line, better job opportunities will follow. Your mother will be able to rest easy too.”

Sorting out work for Gu Qiao could have been done through others, but no one was as convenient as Zhou Zan — she didn’t need to explain what kind of distant relative from the countryside this was. Things were different now; there were occasions when Zhou Zan came to her for help as well. Mrs. Luo didn’t believe Zhou Zan was helping out of lingering feelings for her older sister — the fact that she was Gu Jingshu’s younger sister was no longer relevant to Zhou Zan. What mattered was that she was Luo Bo’an’s wife.

“Thank you, Aunt.” Gu Qiao’s eyes reddened slightly as she said this. Her cousin-aunt had arranged work for her so quickly, just so her mother wouldn’t worry. She felt a small twinge of shame — she had underestimated her cousin-aunt’s affection for her mother.

“The Zhou family will be coming by later this evening — be warm and welcoming.” Mrs. Luo gave Gu Qiao advance information about the guests so she’d be prepared. “Uncle Zhou’s wife’s surname is Ning — just call her Aunt Ning. Their daughter is a year older than you, studying journalism at Z University, and she loves talking to people. If she strikes up a conversation with you, keep a sense of what’s appropriate — don’t discuss everything with outsiders.”

“I understand.”

“By the way, Uncle Zhou’s daughter is called Zhou Zhining.” When Mrs. Luo had first learned of that name, she’d felt a faint twinge of displeasure — though that feeling had since melted away completely, like a snowfall from years past, leaving not the faintest trace.

Hearing the name, Gu Qiao’s first reaction was: “Then Uncle Zhou and Aunt Ning must have a very good relationship.”

Mrs. Luo hesitated: “Your guess is right — they really do have a good relationship.” It seemed her older sister had never told Gu Qiao anything about her past — otherwise Gu Qiao’s tone would have been quite different saying this.

Just as well. The past was the past. Why rake it up?

—