◎ The Gloves ◎

Luo Peiyin drove Gu Qiao to the door but did not get out of the car himself.

“Cousin-brother, do you have somewhere else to be?”

“Go on in — I’m not staying here tonight.”

Gu Qiao didn’t ask where he was staying. She just said “Oh,” and stood there, not moving.

After two seconds, Luo Peiyin asked with a smile: “Aren’t you cold? Why aren’t you going in?”

Gu Qiao shook her head quickly: “I’m not cold at all right now.” She hesitated a moment, then waved goodbye to Luo Peiyin.

When she reached the door, she turned back once more — and only when the car had disappeared from her field of view did she finally shift the bag on her back and step inside.

Madam Luo was sitting in the living room. Gu Qiao coming home at this hour inevitably prompted a round of questions. A girl not yet twenty, living in her household — she felt a sense of responsibility for her. She asked Gu Qiao about the English classes. Gu Qiao was prepared for this; one of her colleagues attended the same class, and she knew the schedule and location well enough to answer confidently. Fortunately, Cousin-aunt didn’t try to test her on the actual content she’d learned, so Gu Qiao managed to get through it.

“Do you think I’m being too nosy?”

“Not at all. I’m grateful for your concern.”

Gu Qiao thought about how, in all the days she’d been here, she had not caused her cousin-aunt a small amount of trouble. Regardless, she was living in her cousin-aunt’s home, and her cousin-aunt had to carry that extra worry. As a gesture of goodwill, she should at least buy a small gift for her — something token, just to show the thought. She glanced at the gloves in her bag, but immediately dismissed the idea. Even the lambskin gloves she had specifically bought for Cousin-brother had been found wanting — these pigskin ones would certainly not impress Cousin-aunt. Thinking this, she decided to find another opportunity some other day.

Madam Luo asked, seemingly in passing: “I heard from your uncle that your cousin-brother plans to study abroad next year. Has he mentioned to you which school he’s going to?”

Gu Qiao feigned ignorance of her cousin-aunt’s meaning and said with surprise: “Why would you think to ask me about that?” She understood that half of her cousin-aunt’s purpose was to look out for her own good. Of course she also understood the other half. If Gu Qiao were to show any sign of having feelings for Luo Peiyin that she shouldn’t have, her cousin-aunt would find herself in a difficult position — and so she found various ways to gently remind her. These repeated reminders, in this moment, stirred a flash of defiance in Gu Qiao: why shouldn’t she be allowed to feel something for him? There were so many people in this world — she could like whomever she pleased, and no one could tell her otherwise. But this indignation was quickly suppressed — not because of the gap between their circumstances, but because she called him Cousin-brother, and he treated her well. She recalled what Bai Ling had said: Luo Peiyin was the kind of person who could spark one’s imagination — but family ties restrain a person’s imagination.

And so Gu Qiao let the surprise give way to a small smile: “I don’t know anything about these matters. Even if Cousin-brother wanted someone to talk to about it, it wouldn’t be me. You’ve asked the wrong person entirely.” She thought: if she could earn a bit more money over the winter holiday, she would move out, and free her cousin-aunt from this responsibility toward her. Otherwise, these repeated reminders were a torment — for both of them.

Gu Qiao lay in her small room, Luo Peiyin’s words drifting through her mind. She had been a little too impatient lately — she needed to learn from Lou Deyu’s mistake and not try to swallow everything in one bite. For now, she should be studying and saving money steadily, and only when the winter holiday gave her total freedom should she throw herself into it wholeheartedly. Before she fell asleep, she thought about those hides again — if only she could find someone to process them for her. Even with processing fees, if she could sell enough finished goods, it would still be a considerable profit. But who to have process them, into what styles, whether to use a brand label, and who to sell to — there were too many questions, and before she had worked any of them out, she was already asleep.

The next day Gu Qiao went to work wearing her pigskin gloves. The leather was a bit coarse, but they were quite resistant to wind. Three months in, Gu Qiao was still the most diligent person in the office. She never stopped from morning to night — fetching hot water first thing every day, never idle. Her colleagues had long since grown accustomed to her work style and no longer tried to persuade her otherwise.

Now that the weather was cold, Gu Qiao wore her gloves when she went to fetch hot water. A colleague, Xiao Li, noticed Gu Qiao’s leather gloves and asked what kind of leather they were — they didn’t look quite the same as her own pair.

“Pigskin.”

Xiao Li looked slightly puzzled at the answer: “They make gloves out of pigskin? I thought it was only cowhide and lambskin and that sort of thing.”

“Pigskin is cheap, and it’s tough and durable — not as delicate as other leathers that need careful looking after.”

Old Yuan nearby perked up at the word “cheap,” though he wondered whether what a young person called cheap matched his own understanding of the word. He asked Gu Qiao how much the gloves had cost.

Gu Qiao named a price she had tentatively set the evening before.

“Little Gu, where did you buy them?”

Gu Qiao thought for a moment and said: “I have a distant relative who brought in a batch of leather gloves from out of town. I bought mine from her.”

“Could you pick up a pair for me too?”

Gu Qiao’s eyes moved thoughtfully: “Of course — if you want them, I’m happy to help. But you’d better ask around first to make sure you’re not overpaying through me. I don’t really know the going rates for this kind of leather. If you end up spending more than you should, that’s going to sit as badly with me as it does with you.”

“If they’re really like yours, it’s not that expensive.”

“Alright then — I’ll go buy a pair from her today and bring them to you tomorrow. And if you feel like they’re not up to scratch, don’t be shy about it — I’ll take them back and return them for you.” Gu Qiao figured that if Old Yuan was satisfied, she might pick up a few more sales from the office, saving her the trouble of selling everything at the street stall.

“Thank you for the trouble.”

“No trouble at all. We share an office — it’s nothing.”

At noon, Jiang Kai asked Gu Qiao to go to the canteen together, but Gu Qiao said she’d brought food and wouldn’t be going. She went to the library and borrowed a stack of books related to fashion and clothing, along with some magazines, hoping to find something useful. While she was at it, she also borrowed two introductory English books — whether for the future or to keep her current lies consistent, learning some English could only help. Through work she had gotten to know a few single female teachers. She asked them if there were any free channels for practicing spoken English, and they recommended the English Corner on Saturday evenings — a chance to practice. Gu Qiao took the suggestion to heart and decided to set aside Saturday evenings from then on, to go exchange a few words with others.

That day, Gu Qiao’s bag was packed to bursting when she left work — different from usual. Along with the gloves she planned to sell that evening were all the books she’d borrowed from the library.

Today, besides Gu Qiao’s cousin-brother, Jiang Kai spotted another unfamiliar man waiting for Gu Qiao after work. Given the way Gu Qiao had been turning down his invitations to eat together these past days, he had begun to sense, vaguely, that Gu Qiao might be turning down him as a person. Her ambitions were bigger than he had imagined — she didn’t seem to be looking for a future partner in the office. However pretty, she was still just a high school graduate who’d come from out of town; yet however much of an out-of-town high school graduate she was, she was undeniably pretty. She was young, and her future was far from settled. It was precisely because it was unsettled that she wasn’t willing to be tied to him just yet. Thinking this, Jiang Kai felt rather deflated.

Jiang Kai looked the man waiting for Gu Qiao up and down. Unlike the time he’d seen Gu Qiao’s cousin-brother — whom he hadn’t quite been able to read — he recognized this one at a glance: a student.

Gu Qiao was a little surprised to see Chen Hui. Her first instinct wasn’t even to assume he was there for her — she thought he might have business at some other office.

“What time did you get home last night? No trouble along the way?” Chen Hui had been urged by Auntie Chen, and he himself wasn’t entirely at ease about Gu Qiao. As soon as his afternoon class ended, he decided to come check on her. The distance wasn’t far — it wouldn’t take much time. Gu Qiao was dressed very plainly, the only splash of color a hair clip on her head. Her hair was much longer now than the first time he’d seen her.

“No trouble at all — sorry to have made everyone worry.” From Chen Hui’s words, Gu Qiao confirmed once more that Luo Peiyin had indeed gone to the Chen family home — there was no other way Chen Hui could have known she’d gone out of town. He must have seemed quite urgent too, otherwise Chen Hui would never have come all this way just to check on her. She felt once again that she had truly caused Luo Peiyin a great deal of trouble the day before.

“Security on the trains isn’t good — you still need to be careful when you’re traveling alone.” Chen Hui felt a degree of sympathy for Gu Qiao, feeling she had been dragged into hardship by her father.

Gu Qiao smiled: “I know. Chen Hui-ge, please help me keep my work outside of office hours a secret.” She was somewhat afraid that given the friendship between Chen Hui and Zhou Zhining, Chen Hui might let something slip and her cousin-aunt would find out — which would be a real headache. Though she felt the likelihood was genuinely very slim, since these two would have no reason to discuss anything that touched on her.

Chen Hui also thought of Zhou Zhining. He said: “Of course. Haven’t you told your family?”

Gu Qiao smiled and shook her head. She remembered Chen Qing mentioning that her brother often went to the English Corner, and asked a few more questions.

When Chen Hui heard that Gu Qiao was fitting in English study on top of her job and her stall, he gained a measure of admiration for her. With that added admiration, he said: “If you need English study materials, I can bring some for you.”

“Thank you, Chen Hui-ge — that would be wonderful.” Gu Qiao noticed the knitted gloves on Chen Hui’s hands, and immediately pulled open her bag, rummaged inside, and held out a pair of pigskin gloves: “These are warmer. For you.”

“There’s no need.”

“They’re quite warm — good for cycling. Don’t stand on ceremony with me. If you’re this polite, I’ll be too embarrassed to borrow the materials from you.” Gu Qiao enthusiastically pressed the gloves into Chen Hui’s hands. Since she’d already returned the favor in kind, she didn’t stand on ceremony either: “Chen Hui-ge, when would be a good time to borrow the materials?”

“I’ll bring them to you this time tomorrow.”

“Thank you!” The word had barely left Gu Qiao’s mouth when she looked up and saw Luo Peiyin. “Cousin-brother.” Her tone was somewhat more subdued than the “thank you” that had just preceded it.

Chen Hui saw Gu Qiao’s cousin-brother too. He gave Luo Peiyin a nod, then said to Gu Qiao: “See you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow!”

Luo Peiyin had come by bicycle. Gu Qiao noticed he wasn’t wearing the gloves she had given him on his hands. He’d probably just been humoring her when he said he liked them. She pretended not to have noticed, and said to Luo Peiyin with a smile: “Cousin-brother, what brings you here?”

Luo Peiyin looked at Gu Qiao’s face, was silent for a few seconds, then reached into his trench coat pocket and produced a pager: “Use this to reach me from now on. It’s one I’ve used before — I hope that’s alright.”

Gu Qiao of course knew that even secondhand, something like this could be sold for money: “Cousin-brother, keep it as a spare for yourself. I don’t need one.”

“I don’t need it either. If you don’t want it, just throw it away.”