◎ Courtesy ◎

When Madam Liao saw her ex-husband in the photograph, her first impression was that he had aged. Only old men had eyes that gentle.

Whenever Luo Sijing brought up Luo Bo’an’s current wife, she was always very careful — careful to an unnecessary degree. As though telling her that her father had settled into a peaceful married life was somehow a wound to her. Luo Bo’an had possessed the ability to wound her when he was young; now that he was old, he no longer did. He didn’t quarrel with his current wife, most likely because he no longer had the energy for it. He had married this woman precisely because he didn’t want to quarrel — not because this woman had changed him.

She felt neither envy nor jealousy toward the woman beside Luo Bo’an. Growing old together with someone from youth was one thing; inheriting an old man was quite another.

Luo Bo’an’s happiness didn’t wound her — it merely irritated her. She didn’t envy his current wife, but sometimes she envied Luo Bo’an himself. The thought of this man living the same peaceful, tranquil life her father had once lived made her deeply uncomfortable.

Her father had returned to Singapore and remarried, living surrounded by children and grandchildren; her mother, meanwhile, had remained alone until her death. When her father passed, Madam Liao hadn’t been able to squeeze out a single tear — the only ones she managed were for her mother. But her choice not to remarry was different from her mother’s. She didn’t remain single for the children’s sake — her children had no need of her care. It was simply that she felt men were all more or less the same; trading one in wouldn’t necessarily yield a better one, and would only create new complications.

Career and children were real. Everything else was false. Though she wasn’t entirely satisfied with her son either, blood was blood — he was still closer to her than anyone else. Two years ago, when he defied her wishes, she had cut off every last cent. She was waiting for him to come to her and admit defeat. In China, having no money wasn’t the end of the world — it didn’t prevent him from living better than most. In America, no money was a different matter entirely. A full scholarship could only guarantee he wouldn’t starve; living well was another question altogether.

Her son had indeed come to find her — because she fell ill. A tumor had been discovered inside her, requiring surgery. He had stayed by her side throughout, and though there were professionals to care for her, she could tell whether or not he was genuinely attentive. Still, she herself had been attentive at her father’s bedside during his illness, while privately hoping for the succession to come quickly. She couldn’t fully dismiss the suspicion that her son harbored the same thoughts. Suspicion aside, she had never considered letting anyone else inherit her legacy — her own flesh and blood was more reliable than outsiders. His veins carried her blood.

Fortunately, the tumor was benign and did not affect her ability to continue working. Once the results came in, her son flew back to America. She did not give him a single extra cent for his attentiveness during her illness.

Madam Liao despised her father’s and ex-husband’s cold-heartedness, yet she absolutely did not want a lovesick son. Fortunately, her son currently showed no signs whatsoever of being prone to that. Still, she didn’t worry much about his romantic affairs — as long as it didn’t go as far as marriage, it didn’t matter who he was with. In this respect, she actually cared more about Luo Sijing. Life had taught her that whether man or woman, anyone wishing to live a stable married life should never choose a partner who was too ambitious. Only the most foolish of people cultivated their partner, feeding their ambitions. She warned Luo Sijing: never, under any circumstances, cultivate a man.

Madam Liao was the one who brought up Gu Qiao with Luo Peiyin.

“Your cousin says the girl is very beautiful.” Based on what she knew of her son, he would never associate with a distant relative for no reason. Distant by blood, yet in contact — there was probably something else going on.

“Since when did you start paying such close attention to people’s appearances?”

Madam Liao smiled. “Don’t misunderstand. Who you fall in love with is none of my business — I’m not so old-fashioned as all that. I’m simply concerned about you. You rarely come back to China; if you truly have that inclination, wouldn’t it be perfectly natural to invite her to visit Shanghai?”

“That’s not something you need to worry about.”

Madam Liao’s instincts told her that her son had some kind of feelings for this girl. She no longer thought of it as a bad thing. She didn’t need her son to earn a doctorate — that held no significance for her. Two years for a master’s degree was perfectly sufficient.

What she needed now was for her son to work. He was young, but it was time for him to be tested. She saw a vast and promising market here and was convinced there was much to be done. She intended to have her son help. This wasn’t simply because Luo Peiyin was her son — he was young, yes, but far more familiar with this land than anyone else she could call upon. There were those more familiar than him, of course, but she trusted family more. And he was also Luo Bo’an’s son, which meant many useful connections within China.

For all these reasons, she felt Luo Peiyin pursuing a romance in China was not such a bad thing.

She didn’t believe a girl could influence Luo Peiyin’s decisions, but people were always more hot-blooded in youth than in old age. If this girl in China could become a factor in keeping him here, so much the better. She didn’t care about the girl’s family background — that was irrelevant. The feelings of youth were very difficult to sustain all the way to marriage. She wasn’t very worried. Young men had robust appetites; as long as the girl was beautiful, character, family background, and career were all beside the point. At a certain age, it became a different matter entirely.

Madam Liao was skeptical of men’s feelings — her own son was no exception.

In the end, however, Madam Liao got nothing out of Luo Peiyin. He was perpetually on guard against her — likely because she had always tested his choices and then proven them unworthy.

Luo Peiyin understood his mother very well.

Like his mother, Luo Peiyin also believed that most things — whether feelings or ideals — could not withstand being tested. But if he determined that something mattered to him, he would not test it. On the contrary, he would shield it from being tested.

—

On the twenty-third day of the twelfth lunar month, Gu Qiao closed up her stall early and headed straight for the Luo household. Since moving out, she had maintained sporadic contact with her aunt-by-courtesy. She hadn’t visited since the previous New Year, when she had brought gifts.

Her aunt still sent a sum of holiday money to her grandmother each year. After Gu Qiao moved out, the amount Madam Luo sent had actually increased somewhat.

When Gu Qiao called home, her grandmother mentioned that Madam Luo had sent two thousand yuan this time. With the New Year approaching and a free moment at hand, she thought it was a good time to visit. She suspected the reason her aunt was sending so much was that she still believed the family’s debts hadn’t been cleared. This visit, besides bringing gifts, was to let her aunt know the debts had just been fully repaid, so she need not worry any longer.

She bought the gifts, got in her yellow Dafa van, and drove to the Luo household. The housekeeper, Sister Zhang, saw Gu Qiao and greeted her warmly: “Qiao’er, you get more beautiful every time I see you.”

Madam Luo had been waiting for Gu Qiao to come to her when life outside became too hard to manage — but Gu Qiao had only visited once, during the holiday. She had to admit that youth was different; piling those colors onto herself, somehow it didn’t look gaudy at all. If Gu Qiao ever came back to her, she would offer her a position.

Gu Qiao hadn’t expected to find the Zhou family — father and daughter — at the Luo household. Had she known, she would have called ahead. She hadn’t planned on staying long to begin with; just deliver the gifts, say what needed to be said, and leave. It wouldn’t take much time, and calling ahead would have made it seem like a bigger occasion than it was.

Whenever Gu Qiao read the newspapers, she inevitably came across news about Zhou Zan, and each time, her good mood would slip away for a few seconds. What was past was certainly past — but if she herself was doing better than Zhou Zan, it would be that much easier to leave it behind.

Gu Qiao greeted Madam Luo with a smile: “Auntie, New Year is just around the corner — I came to see you. These are my gifts for you.” She set the gifts down and was ready to leave, with no intention of greeting the Zhou family — she only gave them a polite smile and said she was sorry for the intrusion.

Zhou Zan hadn’t aged much. If anything, the years had refined him — more cultivated, more distinguished. Xiao Jia adored Zhou Zan, and whenever Gu Qiao and Xiao Jia met, Xiao Jia would bring him up. Whenever she did, Gu Qiao would change the subject. She permitted Zhou Zan to reform himself and start anew. He was living well, and she had no intention of tripping him up or ruining his comfortable life. She simply didn’t want to mention him or see him.

She thought about how her own parents’ faces now bore the marks of time, and found little joy in seeing that the years had been so kind to Zhou Zan.

Zhou Zhining noticed that Gu Qiao had changed a great deal — she was different from the last time they’d met. Her brow seemed more at ease, more open. With Zhou Zhining’s growing sensitivity to the camera, she felt Gu Qiao would probably be very photogenic.

Zhou Zhining had recently begun an internship at a television station, wavering between staying to work there and going abroad. Though she couldn’t secure a full scholarship — her journalism major made even a half scholarship uncertain — with her father’s support, she wasn’t worried about money. What truly complicated her decision was a particular person. If this person would be with her, she would absolutely go abroad to accompany him. But if he found another lover — well, that was hard to say. In her heart, he had always been very sought-after.

Gu Qiao’s attitude toward her family made Zhou Zhining feel rather displeased.

She felt that her entire family had been slighted, and she smiled as she brought up the past: “Didn’t you say before that you liked my father’s books? Something about a prose piece with willow trees.” There was a touch of mockery in her smile, which she made no effort to conceal. She had forgotten exactly what tree Gu Qiao had mentioned, but she remembered clearly that at the time Gu Qiao hadn’t actually read it, and yet had pretended she had — fawning shamelessly back then. And now that Zhou Zan was even more well-known than before, she was ignoring him entirely. She guessed that Gu Qiao probably hadn’t been reading much lately and simply didn’t keep up with such things.

Gu Qiao smiled: “I apologize — I actually haven’t read your father’s books. I was simply being polite at the time.”

“Polite?” Gu Qiao hadn’t told the truth, and Zhou Zhining had thought her sycophantic; but now that Gu Qiao told the truth, Zhou Zhining found her rude. Combined with the fact that Gu Qiao hadn’t even bothered to greet them, she felt even more displeased. So what if you’re a self-employed person who made a bit of money? Did you really think “those who sell tea eggs earn more than those who build atomic bombs” meant you could look down on people? She found this kind of mercenary attitude most disagreeable. She felt Gu Qiao’s earlier fawning and today’s disregard were both the result of ignorance born from too little reading.

Zhou Zhining was about to advise Gu Qiao to read more, when Zhou Zan stopped her. That Gu Qiao held no goodwill toward him was within his expectations — but that she would show it so plainly, that he hadn’t anticipated. It figured — only someone like this would hear that he had arranged a job for her and immediately resign.

Zhou Zan maintained the composed demeanor he always kept among his students, and turned to criticize his own daughter instead: “You didn’t ask her again whether she liked my books, did you? If you ask someone that, of course they’ll be polite. Once is enough — who wouldn’t be annoyed the second time?”

—