◎ Pirated Copies ◎

Zhou Zan continued: “If someone were to ask me whether I liked their father’s books, I would probably say yes. But if that person then used my polite words as a basis for feeling superior, I couldn’t tolerate it either.” He knew perfectly well that Gu Qiao’s dislike of him had nothing to do with his books — but that particular matter was something he truly did not want to raise.

“Father!” Zhou Zhining felt as though her father were placing all the blame on her.

Zhou Zan’s voice suddenly turned stern: “Only an arrogant person would draw their sense of superiority from others’ courtesy and respect. To mistake respect for flattery — that’s not just arrogant, it’s foolish. I trust you are not that kind of person.”

Zhou Zhining flushed at her father’s words. In all her years growing up, this was the first time he had reprimanded her like this — and in front of someone else at that. Ordinarily, if her father pointed out a flaw, she would say a few soft words and his attitude would immediately soften. Never once had he been this severe.

Zhou Zhining’s mother was none too pleased to hear her daughter scolded so directly in front of others. Her daughter did have that fault — but couldn’t he have taught her at home? Why did he have to dress her down in front of someone else? Still, she said nothing. She knew well enough that in recent years her husband had become increasingly obsessed with his image as a good man. She even suspected that part of it was rooted in the fact that they had no biological children together. Because his genes couldn’t be passed on, he was especially concerned with his legacy of reputation — wanting to pass down an image of goodness. She no longer considered this a flaw. She was content for him to be a good man within their marriage.

Zhou Zan then turned to Gu Qiao: “I owe you an apology. I hope today hasn’t spoiled your mood.”

Gu Qiao had not expected Zhou Zan to say this at all. He had attributed her coldness to a dislike of his books, and then formally apologized. In truth, had it not been for what happened between Zhou Zan and her mother all those years ago, she would have greeted him politely — “Uncle Zhou” — out of simple courtesy. As for whatever Zhou Zhining had said about some willow-tree prose piece, even if it was meant as a taunt, she didn’t take it seriously in the slightest.

If Zhou Zan had responded arrogantly — pointing out that he had once helped her, asking why she couldn’t even be bothered to call him Uncle Zhou — Gu Qiao would have felt no embarrassment whatsoever. His humble apology, on the other hand, made her wonder whether she should have presented herself more graciously.

The matter of Zhou Zan having a romance with her mother and then breaking up — her only source for that story was her grandmother. More than twenty years had passed. Her mother had long since built a new life for herself. Had it not been for Lou Deyu’s trouble and Zhou Zan’s assistance, her mother probably wouldn’t have had occasion to think of this person at all. Refusing Zhou Zan’s help had been enough to preserve her mother’s dignity. There was no need for further emotion.

After all, it was simply a breakup — and one that had happened over twenty years ago. No need for lingering resentment, no need for complaints. What was past was past. Perhaps her deliberate indifference had only made it seem as though her mother was still holding a grudge against him.

Gu Qiao restored a composed smile: “You’re too kind, Uncle Zhou. Please continue your visit — I won’t intrude.”

“I heard from Xiao Jia that you’ve started your own business, and that you’re doing very well. I genuinely admire that — you’re decisive and you act on your convictions. When I was your age, I was still very lost about the future. I was nowhere near your level.”

His words were utterly sincere and gracious; Gu Qiao could find no fault with them whatsoever. In that moment, she understood why Xiao Jia so admired Zhou Zan. Had it not been for that matter twenty-some years ago, she imagined she would have admired him too.

“Thank you.” Had there been no such history, those two words would have come with a good deal more warmth.

Not wishing to linger further, Gu Qiao turned to Madam Luo: “Auntie, an early Happy New Year to you — I won’t keep you from your guests. I’ll be on my way.”

Just then, the fourth-youngest Luo child had heard the voices downstairs and come down: “Cousin!”

Madam Luo said to Gu Qiao: “Go keep Luo the Fourth company for a while. Stay for lunch — I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

Luo the Fourth took Gu Qiao by the hand: “Cousin, what took you so long? It’s been almost a year since I’ve seen you. Didn’t you say you’d come visit more often? Come on, come upstairs and see the new LEGO set I just finished.”

The LEGO had been a gift from Luo Peiyin — one of the rare moments when Luo the Fourth felt that having a second elder brother was actually quite nice.

Gu Qiao was pulled along by Luo the Fourth into his room.

Luo the Fourth had shot up another inch since Gu Qiao had last seen him. A while back, he had secretly spent his pocket money at a small bookshop buying two martial arts novels. After reading a few dozen pages, he fumed internally that the world was wrong for praising such trash. He was certain he could write something better than this “Jin Yong” himself. When he shared this opinion with his third elder sister, he was met with merciless ridicule: “You didn’t even buy the right book. What you read was ‘Quan Yong’ — what does that have to do with Jin Yong?”

In those years, Hong Kong and Taiwan martial arts novels were enormously popular, and competition among pirated publishers was fierce. To stand out in the crowded pirated market, some publishers simply borrowed or adapted the names of bestselling authors and released one new title after another under those borrowed identities.

Luo the Fourth had suffered greatly from this. But such an embarrassing episode was not something he shared with Gu Qiao.

He told Gu Qiao about some things that had happened at school, and when he heard that she had bought her own car, he immediately gave her a thumbs-up: “Cousin, you’re amazing!”

Luo the Fourth was entirely sincere. His eldest sister’s first car had been a gift from his second brother’s mother; as for his second brother, he still rode a bicycle, same as Luo the Fourth himself. Never mind them — even their father had a car, but it wasn’t one he’d bought himself.

And yet his cousin, younger than all of them, had earned her own car at the age of twenty through her own efforts.

“Cousin, can I go and look at your car?”

Luo the Fourth’s eyes brimmed with boundless anticipation — even the car-themed LEGO no longer held any appeal.

“Of course!”

With Luo the Fourth so eager, Gu Qiao couldn’t possibly refuse.

“Let’s go right now, quickly!”

Urged along by Luo the Fourth, Gu Qiao went with him out of the room.

After the earlier awkwardness, the Zhou family had no desire to continue the visit and excused themselves with a few pleasantries.

Madam Luo was seeing her guests out when she spotted her son pulling Gu Qiao’s hand toward the stairs: “Where are you two going?”

Luo the Fourth immediately announced: “I’m going to see Cousin’s new car! She’s only twenty and she already bought her own car — isn’t that incredible?”

Hearing that Gu Qiao had bought a car, Madam Luo was genuinely startled. Her impression of Gu Qiao had been frozen at the point of “she’s earned some money” — though surely not enough to cover the family’s debts.

Outside, there were two cars: a Toyota and a minivan.

The Toyota belonged to Zhou Zan.

Luo the Fourth asked Gu Qiao: “Cousin, which one is yours?”

Gu Qiao pointed to her yellow Dafa van: “This one.”

Luo the Fourth had some experience with the world — he knew that yellow Dafa vans were the cheapest option when hailing a taxi. But this did not stop him from praising Gu Qiao’s car: “Cousin, your car is so big — it can fit loads of people, right?”

“About ten or so, but I usually use it for hauling goods.”

In Gu Qiao’s telling, this vehicle was not an aging relic bound for the scrapyard, but an antique of deep historical significance.

Madam Luo was seeing the Zhou family out when she caught Gu Qiao explaining to Luo the Fourth the historical value and present-day merits of this vintage vehicle. Gu Qiao wore a thin yellow down jacket — one of her recent stock items, a shade deeper than her van’s paint. She spoke with such complete conviction, as though her car were one of a kind in all the world, utterly irreplaceable, and therefore entirely worthy of her devotion.

Zhou Zan seemed almost to be caught up in Gu Qiao’s enthusiasm. He stood to one side, listening.

Gu Qiao, noticing that Zhou Zan was watching, instinctively asked: “Do you need me to move my car?”

“No need, thank you.” Gu Qiao’s parking skills had improved considerably of late; she was not blocking his way at all.

—