◎ Lou Deyu’s Letter ◎

“Since this is a business, there’s no logic in casually giving things away. Otherwise, I’d question whether you’re really suited for business.”

Luo Peiyin helped Gu Qiao close her fingers around the crisp banknotes, then released her hand.

In Gu Qiao’s palm, along with the warmth of the money, there lingered the warmth of another person. Because Luo Peiyin disliked prolonged back-and-forth, Gu Qiao didn’t press the matter further either. She went to the kitchen and prepared an extra portion of food, packed it in a lunchbox, and had Luo Peiyin take it along for his midday meal.

“That street gets a lot of drunks at night — there was even an incident there not long ago. If you’re going to sell clothes there, it’s best to leave by nine.”

Leaving before nine meant missing nearly half the prime selling hours, but Gu Qiao didn’t argue with Luo Peiyin. She agreed. If Luo Peiyin didn’t go to the bar, he wouldn’t see her on that street; if he did go, the performance was at the hotel, and he wouldn’t know what time she left anyway. Luo Peiyin clearly meant well, but he couldn’t understand how desperately she needed to earn money. She wanted to earn quickly — once she’d saved enough, she would rent a proper stall near the embassy district market. By then it would be fine for her mother to find out she was running a small business, rather than carrying on the way she was now, like some kind of petty criminal on the run, hiding everything from her cousin-aunt. It wasn’t that she feared her cousin-aunt — she feared her cousin-aunt telling her mother.

Luo Peiyin seemed to have anticipated her thinking. He said to Gu Qiao: “Every day when you get home, give me a missed call on the home phone.”

“Cousin-brother…”

“Since you can convince Cousin-Aunt Gu that you attend English classes every day, you can certainly find a reason to make one phone call a day. You’re living here, so I have a responsibility for your safety.” Luo Peiyin gave Gu Qiao no opportunity to refuse. “There’s a decent Cantonese restaurant — let’s go tomorrow. Third and Fourth will both be there.”

“Thank you, Cousin-brother! I won’t join though — tomorrow is Sunday, foot traffic will be heavier than usual. I’d rather make the most of it for business.”

“It’s just one lunch.”

Gu Qiao smiled apologetically. “You all go ahead.” Though she called him Cousin-brother, she and Luo Peiyin were practically the same age, and even though he was older than her, he was technically still a student. She was already working — she couldn’t keep mixing herself in with Third and Fourth, only receiving without giving, always waiting to be treated to meals. But her money had more pressing uses right now; she couldn’t spend it on treating others. Everything could wait until she had money!

Luo Peiyin didn’t press her further. He wrote an address on a piece of paper: “When I’m not at home, I stay here. If something comes up, you can come find me. If I’m not in, you can slide a note under the door, or page my number.”

Gu Qiao studied the address on the slip of paper carefully and said, “Alright.”

At midday, Gu Qiao rushed to the wholesale market to stock up on mohair sweaters — she had promised that girl yesterday evening that she’d come to collect. Since mohair sweaters were currently trending, there was no chance for Gu Qiao to bargain the price down at all. If she couldn’t source directly from the supplier, the margin was too thin, so she only bought a few pieces. She thought to herself that in the future she really needed to go directly to the source to stock up; otherwise she’d only ever make pocket money.

Luo Peiyin had restricted her evening working hours, so she had to make use of the midday hours instead. She couldn’t go far — she could only set up a stall at a nearby school. Her own workplace was out of the question; too many people knew her there, and being spotted by colleagues would inevitably cause a bit of trouble.

On Sunday morning, Gu Qiao headed straight to the Chen family home. She had told Chen Hui previously that once she received her wages, she would visit Uncle and Auntie Chen — she’d been held up before and hadn’t had time to go. That morning she stopped at the provisions shop to buy pastries and fruit, and also brought Chen Qing a mohair sweater in apple green. This time she had something to ask Chen Qing’s help with.

The jeans she had on hand were nearly sold out. If she went back to the same stall owner to buy more, the owner would certainly grow suspicious and wouldn’t sell to her at such a low price again — after all, if she couldn’t sell the goods, she wouldn’t keep restocking. The only way to avoid suspicion was to send someone else. She searched her mind for people she knew, and thought of Chen Qing.

When Auntie Chen saw Gu Qiao, she immediately said warmly: “Qiao’er, you didn’t have to bring anything just because you’re visiting!” Then she asked: “How’s work going lately? How is your family?”

“Work’s going well. And we got our house back.”

“You got the house back! That really is wonderful news!”

Lou Deyu sneezed. He had finally been able to get out of bed recently and had even put on two jin of weight. Behind his family’s back, he had mailed a letter to Gu Qiao, warning her to be careful of that cousin-brother from the Luo family.

Some time back, when he’d gone to collect a debt, he’d beaten the swindler so badly the man couldn’t move for days. Because he’d been too rough, the debt collection had consequently fallen through. He had regretted it deeply at the time — though as with all things, every disadvantage has its counterpart. In reclaiming the house this time, he drew on the lessons of that earlier debt-collection debacle. He simply went to reason with the man every day, arguing that there was no logic in surrendering a house as debt collateral when the debt hadn’t even been outstanding for a year, demanding that the occupant return it to him — he would repay the money gradually, and it would certainly be settled within three years. The occupant, having already taken possession of the house, had no intention of giving it back. Lou Deyu kept insisting he’d repay within three years, but if he truly didn’t repay, what could anyone do? Things also worked out in large part because Lou Deyu hadn’t been home at the time — otherwise, the house would never have come into his hands.

The current occupant told Lou Deyu that Gu Jingshu had signed on his behalf, pledging the house as debt repayment. Because this had been presented as a fait accompli when the paperwork was signed, the documentation was not particularly rigorous. Deyu argued: the house could be pledged as repayment, but the land was never mentioned — and the land didn’t bear the Lou family name. This was residential land allocated by their village collective to the Gu family. By what right was it being used to pay his debts? And by what right was an outsider from another village occupying their village’s allocated land? If you insist on keeping the house, then return the land to us immediately. In the eyes of the current occupant, Lou Deyu’s entire line of reasoning was completely unreasonable.

But Lou Deyu treated his reasoning as gospel truth, and proclaimed it daily at what had once been his home. He now followed the principle that a gentleman uses words, not fists — his speech had become considerably more civil, without even a hint of foul language. Even when the occupant’s son struck him with a shovel, Lou Deyu didn’t dodge at all, simply continuing to make his case.

When Gu Jingshu was summoned to see him, watching her daughter-in-law rush over in such a state of anxiety, Deyu had intended to endure the pain and say: “I’m fine.” But before he could finish the words, he lost consciousness entirely. Afterward, Lou Deyu was deeply grateful he hadn’t managed to say it — if he had, all that beating would have been for nothing.

Gu Jingshu was absolutely determined to call the police and have the young man who had assaulted him arrested. The now-conscious Lou Deyu suddenly became remarkably understanding, comforting his wife: “We must give young people a chance to reform. He may have done wrong, but if he’s willing to change, we shouldn’t push him to the wall.”

In order to give his son a chance to reform, the occupant returned the house to Deyu, and even had the repayment deadline extended.

Once the agreement was reached, Lou Deyu checked himself out of the hospital against the doctor’s advice without a moment’s hesitation. He wasn’t about to let the hospital make money off his family.

Back home, Lou Deyu immediately had his wife write a letter to Gu Qiao: “Tell Gu Qiao, our house is back.” He said nothing else — his wife would naturally conceal the matter of his injury on her own. Sent along with the letter were many of the season’s produce from the fields.

Not long afterward, Gu Qiao wrote back, enclosing a photograph. In it, Gu Qiao’s smile was lovely, and her younger sisters, having received the hair ties and clips their elder sister had sent, were delighted.

Only Deyu harbored some worry — though he kept this worry to himself, mentioning it to no one in the family. Not even to his wife. In the past, when he occasionally couldn’t help himself, he would bring up Zhou Zan’s name. But ever since he had brought great trouble upon his family, he not only stopped mentioning Zhou Zan — he was ashamed to even speak in front of his family of anyone who reminded him of that sort of worthless scoundrel. At least that person hadn’t saddled his own family with debt.

Still, turning it over and over in his mind, he remained uneasy. In the end, he had no choice but to send Gu Qiao a letter.

—