◎ I’ll Keep Your Father Company ◎
Gu Qiao had cut her hair short, leaving her entire slender neck exposed to the air. As Luo Peiyin’s fingers brushed her hair ends, his thumb rested against the nape of her neck, and the calluses on his fingers sent a ticklish sensation across her skin.
People were continuously passing through the stairwell landing, one floor after another — there was no telling who might come up or down at any moment.
The stairwell light fell directly on Gu Qiao’s face. Luo Peiyin drew his hand back into his coat pocket and looked down at her.
Gu Qiao tilted her face up slightly to look at him. The air here was very dry, and she was always rushing around with something urgent on her mind — her lips had gone dry enough to show faint vertical creases. She hadn’t studied herself carefully in a mirror and hadn’t noticed. But as Luo Peiyin’s gaze settled on her, she instinctively ran her tongue over her lips.
“Once I’ve seen your father, I’ll see you to the hotel — I’ve already gotten a room…”
Gu Qiao remembered what she had said to Luo Peiyin the last time they were together, and a faint flush crept into her face: “Tonight won’t work. My dad needs me to look after him right now, and besides, this time of night…”
Luo Peiyin was looking at Gu Qiao’s mouth, and suddenly smiled: “What are you thinking? I mean you should go sleep at the hotel. Tonight, I’ll stay here and keep the bedside vigil.”
“You’ll stay for the bedside vigil?” Gu Qiao had no time to feel embarrassed about where her imagination had wandered — astonishment gradually overtook everything else she was feeling.
Luo Peiyin’s tone made it sound as though his staying to keep watch was the most natural thing in the world: “It seems your father has some reservations about me. Give me a chance to make a good impression on him — let me earn a little goodwill.”
This surprised Gu Qiao even more than the announcement that he was going to stay. She couldn’t recall him ever deliberately trying to make a good impression on anyone.
She thought he was still dwelling on what had happened at her house last time: “My dad actually doesn’t have any reservations about you. He greatly admires people who are well-educated…” Gu Qiao didn’t feel she was lying. If Lou Deyu didn’t admire educated people, why would he — every single time he thought about her not having gone to university — turn his back and go out to the courtyard to smoke one of his cheap hand-rolled cigarettes?
“Well, that gives me even more reason to stay.”
“But…”
“No buts. We’re both men. There’s nothing awkward about it.” Luo Peiyin leaned down slightly, bringing his eyes level with hers, and held her gaze. “Or do you think I’m too incompetent to properly look after your father?”
Before Gu Qiao could answer, she heard Luo Peiyin say: “Let’s go back. If we don’t go in soon, your father will probably come out of the ward looking for you.”
Lou Deyu had just slipped one foot into his shoe when he heard a voice: “Uncle Lou.”
One look at Lou Deyu’s face and Luo Peiyin understood that the situation was more serious than Gu Qiao had let on. He glanced down and saw the bedroll on the floor — that was probably where Gu Qiao had been sleeping these past few days.
Lou Deyu made a sound of acknowledgment. Whatever the occasion, this young man always managed to look presentable: “Thank you for making such a long trip to see me. There’s nothing seriously wrong with me — in a couple of days I should be more or less better.” No sooner had he finished his thanks than he shifted into the concerned tone of an elder: “Where will you be resting tonight? Don’t stay out too late — the wind picks up at night.”
“Gu Qiao has been the one looking after you these past few days. Now that I’m here, I’ll give her a break.”
The moment Lou Deyu heard that Luo Peiyin wanted to look after him, he recoiled as if from a snake: “No, no, there’s really no need.”
“Please don’t be polite about it. I’ll stay tonight and let Gu Qiao go rest at the hotel. Her birthday is tomorrow — I’m sure you wouldn’t want her to spend it in a hospital.”
Lou Deyu heard the implicit nudge in those words. Of course he wanted Gu Qiao to get some rest — there wasn’t even a proper place to bathe in the hospital. Tomorrow was Gu Qiao’s birthday, and he didn’t want her to wake up still in a hospital ward. Did he really need an outsider to point that out to him? Right now he wanted more than anyone for her to rest properly. But having this young man look after him was something he truly could not bring himself to accept comfortably. On the other hand, if both of them left and something actually went wrong…
Lou Deyu began to suspect it was all a scheme by that Luo boy — he probably couldn’t wait for Lou Deyu to say *there’s no need*.
Biting back his pride, Lou Deyu managed a smile: “Well then, I’m sorry to trouble you.”
“No trouble at all.”
Only then did Luo Peiyin turn to speak to Gu Qiao: “I’m not familiar with the inpatient ward. Show me around so I know where things are.”
“Let me stay instead — you go to the hotel and rest…”
Lou Deyu quickly cut Gu Qiao off: “Da Qiao, just go to the hotel and get some rest. Since Xiao Luo has offered to stay, we shouldn’t waste his good intentions.”
“Then let Gu Qiao show me around first, and I’ll see her to the hotel afterward.” Luo Peiyin glanced at his watch. “Don’t worry — I’ll be back by nine-thirty.”
A round trip would take barely an hour. With him back on time, nothing could possibly happen. Lou Deyu was almost urging them on: “Off you go then, quick — be back soon.” The way he said it, it sounded as though he were the one eagerly waiting for Luo Peiyin to return and look after him.
Since the two of them had already reached an agreement, Gu Qiao had nothing more to object to.
For this trip to Erlian on business, Gu Qiao had planned to go and come back quickly. Her outerwear consisted of two army coats. The hospital was still heated, so she wore just a single woolen sweater inside. When she went out, she draped one of the army coats over her shoulders. It was wide and loose, completely concealing her figure.
Seeing Gu Qiao about to head out, Lou Deyu reminded her: “Put your hat on too.”
“I won’t bother — it’s not that cold.”
Lou Deyu firmly insisted Gu Qiao wear the hat: “The wind picks up at night. Put it on — don’t let your head get cold. You just washed your hair.”
Once the two of them had left, the other patient in the ward said to Lou Deyu: “Your daughter and her boyfriend make such a nice pair.”
“They’re not married yet!”
“And they’re already this good to you! That’s even rarer.”
Lou Deyu let out a long, heavy sigh — so deep that it made his battered face ache.
Gu Qiao, in her thick-soled boots and army coat, grabbed her hat and headed out. Eager to have a little more time alone with Luo Peiyin, she swept through the hospital corridors at such a pace that she nearly pulled the hallway draft into her coat.
Only after she stepped out of the inpatient building did her steps finally slow. She looked up and saw a sky full of stars. Ever since arriving at the hospital, she hadn’t once thought to lift her gaze toward the sky.
“The stars are so bright tonight.”
Luo Peiyin took Gu Qiao’s fingers and traced the shape of a chain of stars across the sky: “This star chain is near your constellation. You can’t make it out clearly with the naked eye right now — it’ll be sharper on autumn evenings. Someday I’ll point it out to you with a laser beam.”
“And where’s your constellation?”
Luo Peiyin took Gu Qiao’s fingers and pointed them upward. Gu Qiao followed the direction of her own fingers, letting her gaze travel from one star to another. In the past, she’d looked at the night sky in a sweeping, undifferentiated way — one star had seemed the same as any other. But now something had changed.
From the inpatient building to the hospital gate wasn’t far at all, but they walked it slowly, taking a very long time to arrive. The night air was cold, and Gu Qiao’s fingers had been stretched out in it for a long while — yet she felt no chill, because her hand was wrapped inside another.
The wind came up. Luo Peiyin picked up the hat from Gu Qiao’s hand and set it over her head. She had cut her long hair; without the hair beneath it to fill it out, the hat sat oversized. Under the starlight, Luo Peiyin studied this girl — short hair under a too-large hat, wearing a wide army coat and thick-soled boots.
“Are you not used to seeing me like this?”
Luo Peiyin tucked Gu Qiao’s hand into his coat pocket and held it as they walked forward.
“You’ve gotten thinner, haven’t you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Your hand feels different from the last time I held it.”
“Does it?” Gu Qiao hadn’t noticed it herself.
The two got into a taxi. As soon as Gu Qiao was seated, she asked the driver what good places there were to eat around here. Since Luo Peiyin had come all this way, she certainly wasn’t going to let him leave without a proper meal.
The driver enthusiastically introduced her to the local roast whole lamb, lamb offal soup, lamb meat shaomai…
“Aside from lamb, anything else you’d recommend?” Gu Qiao felt a little bad for Luo Peiyin — how could one person dislike so many things? She glanced sideways at him, studying the line of his lips. He was a person of sharp edges. His hands, too, had nothing remotely delicate about them.
Gu Qiao started out chatting back and forth with the driver, but gradually fell quiet, letting the driver talk on by himself.
Luo Peiyin slipped Gu Qiao’s hand back into his coat pocket again. He felt his way along her fingers, sensing the changes in her. Her hand had grown thinner; the rough northern wind had made it drier than before. Gu Qiao hadn’t originally thought her hand had changed much — she was only becoming aware of it now, through Luo Peiyin’s inch-by-inch touch. It was as though he wasn’t merely holding her hand, but through touching it, was coming to know her whole person — as though everything she had left unsaid was contained within the hand he held. With one hand he explored her palm, her fingertips, even the spaces between her fingers, searching for all the things she hadn’t told him, all the things he wanted to know.
At some moment, it seemed as though he had found what he was looking for. And then that exploratory searching transformed into something tender and full of care. The warmth gradually spread through Gu Qiao’s palm and fingertips, and something like a tide kept rising within her. She, too, slowly began trying to understand him through her touch. She didn’t find any emotional vulnerability in him — but gradually she made contact with something he had kept concealed: a desire always kept under cover. When she, in turn, touched his palm, he nearly crushed her hand. He forced his way between her fingers, pressing and kneading her palm over and over. But then again, a gentle, quiet caress.
The car stopped in front of the hotel. It sat roughly midway between the train station and the hospital — probably the finest hotel in the city.
On his way from the train station to the hospital, Luo Peiyin had passed this hotel and had the driver stop so he could book a room.
When Gu Qiao stepped out of the car, her palm was already damp with a faint layer of perspiration. After getting out, Luo Peiyin simply held her hand loosely. The gap between their two hands was wide enough to let the night breeze pass through.
At the hotel entrance, Luo Peiyin released Gu Qiao’s hand. She felt a sudden pang of loss. He reached into his coat pocket and drew out the room key, handing it to her: “Your birthday gift is on the long table by the entrance. But I hope you’ll wait until you wake up tomorrow morning to unwrap it — that way it’ll feel more like a birthday gift.”
The two of them stood at the entrance. People kept passing on either side. It was Luo Peiyin who said goodbye first: “Go on in.”
Just inside the hotel, a large banner hung: *Unmarried couples sharing a room must present a marriage certificate.* The front desk staff stopped every man and woman who walked in together to ask whether they had a marriage certificate. Gu Qiao walked to the elevator and looked back to see that Luo Peiyin was still standing there. She raised her hand and waved goodbye to him.
Gu Qiao used the key to open the hotel room — it was a suite, with a bathtub in the bathroom. On the table by the entrance sat a long box tied with a bow. She didn’t open it. Instead, she walked straight to the window, drew back the curtains, and went searching for a particular silhouette in the night.
Luo Peiyin hadn’t hailed a taxi. He walked at a brisk pace through the streets of this unfamiliar city. The cold wind poured into him from every direction, and yet as he walked, he stood as straight as ever — unlike the men nearby who had buried their necks deep into their collars.
Lou Deyu never stopped checking his watch. When the hands reached nine-thirty, he saw Luo Peiyin.
He couldn’t remember ever being so glad to see Luo Peiyin as he was now. A crooked, complicated smile spread across his battered face: “You’re back!”
—