◎ A New Identity ◎

“Dad!” Gu Qiao cut Lou Deyu off. She understood both what Luo Peiyin had said and what he hadn’t said. Did she really need Luo Peiyin to spell it out — to say outright that his parents weren’t entirely supportive but that he didn’t care? If he actually said that, her father would probably feel more wounded than ever.

Luo Peiyin didn’t look at Deyu. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed on Gu Qiao: “Uncle Lou looks like he’s in good spirits — no need for round-the-clock supervision. Tomorrow happens to be Sunday. Come back home with me. It’s time for the third and fourth to get to know you in your new role.”

Gu Qiao was momentarily stunned, and the words left her mouth before she thought them through: “It’s not like we’re getting married — there’s no need to make a special trip for that right now.” She felt that Luo Peiyin was being pushed by her father, and was showing his sincerity out of obligation.

Luo Peiyin’s eyes remained on Gu Qiao: “It’s going to happen sooner or later anyway. Since I’m back this time, it’s a good chance for everyone to meet. When it comes to what’s between us, the elders may not have the final say, but they have the right to be informed.”

Lou Deyu was momentarily speechless. He even felt that Luo Peiyin was making a pointed remark directed at him — that these elders who had no say, of course, included himself. His parents couldn’t make the decision, and Deyu wouldn’t be able to either.

Luo Peiyin’s gaze finally shifted away from Gu Qiao: “Uncle Lou, please rest. I’ll go take care of your discharge paperwork.”

Once Luo Peiyin left the ward, Lou Deyu asked Gu Qiao: “Don’t think your dad is being nosy — I was just—” The words “I was just doing it for your own good” wouldn’t come out. Deyu couldn’t help feeling that if he were a wealthy and influential father, he wouldn’t need to ask such questions.

“I know you’re looking out for me. But your attitude was a little too self-deprecating. Your daughter — me — I have the ability, I have the guts, and I’m going to have the money. How did you manage to make it seem like I have something to hide, pressuring him to confirm whether his parents approve or even know? We have a long road ahead of us. My good days haven’t even begun yet — can’t you hold back a little and wait for the day when he’s out there telling the world he has a girlfriend like me, afraid I might run away?”

Deyu felt that his question had lowered his daughter’s standing: “You’re right — you’re more than worthy of him!”

“Don’t say it like that. The way things stand right now, no one has deceived anyone. We’ve chosen to be together knowing full well where things stand — so neither of us is settling for the other.” Gu Qiao poured Lou Deyu a glass of orange juice. “We’re going to be better and better. But even if things aren’t so great right now, we’re earning our own living with our own two hands — we’re not beneath anyone. Don’t you agree, Dad?”

Deyu lowered his head as he took the orange juice: “You understand things better than I do — better than your own father.”

“People who look down on someone and refuse to be with them, but then feel as though that person is punching above their weight once they’re together — I’ve never had any respect for that kind of person. You don’t need to worry on my behalf. I know what I’m doing.”

The cup of orange juice turned round and round in Deyu’s hands. Growing older made one more prone to sentimentality. Deyu spent a long moment fighting back tears before he finally managed to hold them in: “Tell him to cancel that train compartment. I just need somewhere to lie down — I don’t need anything that fancy.”

“He worked hard to get that for you — don’t turn it down. And don’t feel like you’re taking advantage. Once my foreign trade business takes off, I’ll have plenty of chances to be good to him in return.”

Deyu wanted to say something more but held back. Gu Qiao’s eyes were bright and shining, and the words died on his tongue.

Gu Qiao finished packing up everything she was taking. Luo Peiyin still hadn’t returned.

“Dad, you rest. I’ll go check whether he’s done with the paperwork.”

Going downstairs, Gu Qiao took the steps two at a time. She was in a hurry, going down so fast that she ran right into Luo Peiyin coming up. Face to face, Gu Qiao suddenly laughed: “This is the first time I’ve ever looked down at you.” With the difference in their heights, she always had to look up at him.

Gu Qiao had gone downstairs quickly, but she came back up slowly.

Walking side by side, Gu Qiao lowered her voice: “You really didn’t need to go out of your way to prove anything to my dad.”

“I have no desire to prove to your father what kind of person I am. But I want your parents to know that you are a smart person who hasn’t been foolish enough to misjudge someone. Besides, this was always going to happen — we’d meet sooner or later.” He didn’t need his own parents’ support. Knowing his father as well as he did, even if he didn’t support it, his father’s resistance would only be an emotional one. With all those obligations weighing on him, his father would absolutely never embarrass Gu Qiao to her face. That was enough. As for his mother — as long as Gu Qiao was by his side in the future, her testing tactics would have nowhere to take hold.

“Don’t worry. As long as you don’t feel that being with me is beneath you, no one will be able to make you feel wronged.”

Gu Qiao glanced sideways at him: “Do you think I’m the kind of person who would let herself be wronged?”

Luo Peiyin’s gaze drifted to her ears: “Why aren’t you wearing those earrings? I think they suit you very well.”

Gu Qiao thought of the earrings swaying and bobbing, and her ears suddenly burned hot.

“If you don’t like that gift, I can get you something else instead. You so rarely celebrate a birthday — I have to make sure you’re satisfied.”

“I actually quite like them.” Gu Qiao said this without so much as glancing at Luo Peiyin, then quickened her pace and headed back toward the ward.

It wasn’t until they were on the train that Gu Qiao realized Luo Peiyin was not in the same carriage as them. Luo Peiyin put Gu Qiao’s luggage in the compartment, then said to her: “Get some rest on the train. Once we arrive, we’ll go straight to the hospital. I called yesterday to check — your father can be admitted as soon as he gets there.”

“Which carriage are you in?”

“Carriage six.”

Gu Qiao knew that was a hard-seat carriage: “How did you end up—?” The difference was enormous — even an ordinary sleeper carriage would have been better.

“I can’t sleep during the day — lying down would just be a waste of time.” A premium soft-sleeper compartment for two people, but he had only requested one. First, he had absolutely no need for a premium sleeper himself. Second, his money was limited. Apart from the foreign-currency check he had prepared for Gu Qiao, the cash he had on him was not much. That cash had been exchanged at the airport for renminbi, and because it was urgent, he’d had to accept the unfavorable exchange rate.

With the compartment door closed, the carriage held only Gu Qiao and Lou Deyu. As soon as she got in, Gu Qiao sat on the sofa with no intention of sleeping, her eyes measuring the landscape passing outside the window. After a long while, she took out the fruit Luo Peiyin had bought, went to the small bathroom in the compartment and washed it. Gu Qiao peeled a pear for Deyu. Before he had finished it, she peeled another and handed it to him. Only then did Deyu realize that Gu Qiao’s mind was not on the pears. By the time she finished peeling a third one, she seemed to come back to herself — and took a large, decisive bite of it. The pear was extraordinarily sweet.

“Dad, you rest. I’m going out for a bit.”

Gu Qiao made her way from the premium soft-sleeper carriage all the way through to the hard-seat carriage, saying “excuse me” and “thank you, coming through” countless times along the way, until she finally pushed through to Carriage Six with a lunch box full of pear slices. The aisle of Carriage Six was packed with people. Gu Qiao kept pressing forward, squeezing through one gap at a time. Luo Peiyin was sitting in a front aisle seat, reading a book. Amid a string of clear, bright “excuse me”s, he turned his head — and saw Gu Qiao in her military coat, holding a lunch box, squeezing nimbly through one narrow gap after another, getting closer and closer. Gu Qiao saw him too. She had just finished thanking someone for making way for her, and when that searching, anxious gaze landed on her, Gu Qiao immediately smiled. The smile reached every corner of her eyes and brows — she used it to tell him that she hadn’t come because something was wrong. Luo Peiyin stood up from his seat, and Gu Qiao quickly waved for him not to.

About a minute later, still smiling, Gu Qiao squeezed her way to Luo Peiyin’s side. He was still standing. He looked down and saw the pear slices in Gu Qiao’s lunch box: “You—” He seemed uncertain, his gaze moving from the pears to Gu Qiao’s face.

Gu Qiao understood perfectly what Luo Peiyin hadn’t said. The unspoken implication was: you pushed through all of this just to bring me this?

Their eyes met. Gu Qiao smiled and said: “I just tried one — the pears you bought are incredibly sweet.”

But Luo Peiyin’s expression didn’t seem to care about sweet or not sweet. His eyes stayed fixed on Gu Qiao. In the middle of the crowded carriage, she was being held in place by a pair of eyes.

She bit her lip: “Hurry up and eat — I’m going back. I know how to navigate a packed train — this is nothing to me.” Gu Qiao turned, and nimbly threaded her way from one gap to the next. She moved forward without looking back.

Dinner had just ended when the phone rang in the common room. It was quite unexpected when Madam Luo received a call from her stepson, and even more unexpected when she heard he would be home by nine o’clock that evening. Nevertheless, she maintained the basic composure of a stepmother and said with a smile: “Have you eaten? If not, I’ll have Xiao Zhang prepare a few more dishes.”

The fourth Luo child was in the living room watching a nature documentary with his older sister. It was one of his rare television-watching sessions. He had thought he’d get a bit of rest, but as it turned out, his father decided today of all days to demonstrate his parental affection by watching with them. The result was that the fatherly affection lasted less than five minutes before his father retreated back to the study — and while he wasn’t paying attention, his sister grabbed the remote control away from him.

When the fourth heard that the second brother was coming home, his first thought was: “Second Brother just started the school year not long ago and he’s already back in China — could he have been expelled?”

Madam Luo shot the fourth a look. The third scoffed: “In this family, you’re the only one who’s ever in danger of being expelled.”

“How could I possibly be expelled! Second Brother used to get into fights all the time when he was little. I, on the other hand, have never done anything but reason with people — I always persuade through logic.” The fourth muttered under his breath, “Second Brother hardly ever comes back even once a year, but this time he’s back after barely a month — something must have happened. Even if he wasn’t expelled, it’s probably something about that serious.”

“Get yourself up to your room right now!” Madam Luo was also privately puzzled — why had he returned so suddenly?

The fourth went upstairs, full of dissatisfaction and unanswered questions. Whatever had happened, he would probably have to wait until tomorrow to find out.

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