◎ Room to Step Back ◎

“You haven’t done anything to that young woman, have you? She’s not like those open-minded female friends of yours. Regardless of whether you end up together in the end, you mustn’t take advantage of her. This isn’t a matter of feelings — it’s a matter of character.” A girl from a conservative family — if something had truly happened to her, there would be no way to undo it. And naturally, it would also reflect very poorly on the family name.

“You can set your mind at rest. When it comes to my relationship with her, I intend to marry her.”

Far from being reassured, Luo Bo’an grew more alarmed: “At your age, do you even know what marriage means?”

Luo Bo’an couldn’t accept his son entering into a relationship with a casual, take-it-or-leave-it attitude — yet now that his son was taking it so seriously, he found himself struggling to digest that as well.

Love and marriage are two separate things. It had taken two marriages of his own before he understood what marriage truly was. Two young people drawn together by the excitement of their differences was the most ordinary thing in the world — but once they were actually married, those very differences became like small stones underfoot, constantly grinding and chafing. Young people can’t understand each other, but hormones can link them together. No conflict is so great that a night of intimacy can’t resolve it. In middle age, things are different. Young people always think they’re smarter than the generation before them, that they’re different — but in the end they cannot escape the same fate.

Luo Peiyin turned the question back on him: “You believe that love and marriage are separate things?”

That was precisely what he meant. But that should be a view both parties held. Applied one-sidedly to an unsophisticated girl from the countryside, it would just be taking advantage of her.

“The two of you are not well-matched. Can she understand your field of study? And how much do you know about her life outside of the time she spends with you? You’re both young, and separated by such a great distance. No one can say what the future holds. The promises you think you’re making may not be ones you can keep. It’s better not to make any promises and have someone waiting for you.”

Luo Bo’an placed no faith in his son’s commitment: “This isn’t just about leaving yourself room to step back — it’s about leaving her room too. You’re both so young. Who knows whether either of you might meet someone more suitable later on? Don’t hold that young woman back.”

And don’t hold yourself back either. After years of restraint in his public speech, he couldn’t speak plainly even in front of his own son. Too great a distance, and feelings will naturally fade. He had no intention of persuading his son to break it off — because that was an inevitability. Even with his first wife: if she hadn’t insisted on going to Singapore, the two of them might not have divorced. The day before a fight you could think the other person was utterly contemptible, could deeply resent ever having entered into marriage with such a person — but then the next day, if that person asked whether you’d had a hard day, the gratitude from that simple question washed away all the contempt of the previous day. Feelings are dynamic; when you’re close together, one sentence today can correct and overwrite the mistake of yesterday. When you’re too far apart, everyone hits their stumbling blocks — and when that happens, a tangible person standing beside you will always outweigh a distant shadow.

“I honestly don’t know whether she’ll meet someone else. Don’t assume Gu Qiao is just sitting there waiting to be chosen by me — she has many other choices besides me. But I don’t intend to give her that opportunity.”

“You—” This son of his was truly serious. He had once been a son himself, and he knew that when a son is truly set on something, no father in the world can stop him.

Luo Bo’an had never thought of his son as a problem. Since coming back from Singapore at the age of nine, the boy had never given him cause for worry — and when he grew up, he hadn’t relied on his father’s connections to get anything approved or earn money. Yet in this one matter, the boy was giving him a headache.

Luo Peiyin had no intention of continuing this particular conversation with his father. He had said everything he wanted to say.

“You should think about replacing this computer.”

Luo Bo’an had always kept pace with the times. He was among the very first to use a computer.

“I’ve only had it a few years — it still looks practically new.”

Luo Peiyin smiled: “You think this is a table? Something doesn’t stay usable just because it looks new.”

Luo Bo’an paid no mind to his son’s teasing. He didn’t have that great a need for a computer. As for his son — someone who couldn’t stand anything being even slightly outdated, who felt compelled to keep replacing and upgrading — could such a person truly be faithful in love? He had his doubts.

Luo Peiyin pulled up a chair and sat down, flipping through the latest newspapers.

His son was the only person in this household he could truly converse with. Luo Bo’an lit a cigarette and fell into discussion with his son about the latest developments. He pulled out a cigarette and prepared to enjoy a rare moment of father-and-son companionship.

But the cigarette he offered was pushed right back into the pack.

“I don’t smoke.”

“In that respect, you have more self-control than I do.” He himself had only briefly given up smoking once, during his first wife’s pregnancy.

“Self-control isn’t required for things you don’t like.”

After Luo Bo’an left the study, the lamp inside remained lit. Luo Peiyin was inside, working through the latest news.

In the bedroom, Madam Luo listened as her husband told her about Gu Qiao: “Peiyin and Gu Qiao are seeing each other. Did Gu Qiao ever mention anything to you?”

“Who told you that?” Madam Luo filed this away as gossip from someone who didn’t know the full picture. When the two of them were living under the same roof, it would have been plausible for something to develop between two young people. But nothing had happened then — and now one was in China and one was in America, barely able to see each other once a year. Under those circumstances, what could possibly come of it?

“You didn’t know? Peiyin just told me himself.”

Madam Luo took a moment to process this: “Peiyin told you himself?” She had never heard Luo Peiyin bring up a girl on his own initiative. Gu Qiao was the first. Were those two truly in a relationship? When Gu Qiao had come before the New Year, she hadn’t seemed like someone who was in love. Could that visit have been the turning point? So Gu Qiao was more ambitious than her elder cousin after all. To be in a relationship with someone like this — even if it came to nothing — was far better than marrying and having children with someone like Lou Deyu. But Luo Peiyin had just come back to China such a short time ago — how had they made things official so quickly?

“They probably only just got together recently. Gu Qiao has a very strong mind of her own. As for young people’s affairs, we elders can’t really interfere.”

A very strong mind of her own? Her lips are even tighter than her son’s. And her son also has a strong mind of his own. If they were both headstrong, they were probably even less suited to be together.

“Gu Qiao is a young woman alone here, with only you as her closest family. You should take better care of her.”

Madam Luo didn’t know why, but somehow she heard a faint note of reproach in her husband’s words — as though Gu Qiao and Luo Peiyin’s relationship was somehow a result of her own negligence as Gu Qiao’s aunt.

At the breakfast table, the fourth Luo child sat across from Luo Peiyin. He endured and endured, but ultimately couldn’t resist asking the question he’d been turning over all night: “Second Brother, why have you come back?” He looked perfectly fine — nothing at all like someone who’d been expelled.

“I came back to celebrate my girlfriend’s birthday.”

“Who’s your girlfriend?”

Luo Peiyin thoroughly satisfied his younger brother’s curiosity: “Gu Qiao.”

“What a coincidence — same name as our cousin.”

“That is your cousin Qiao.”

“Cousin Qiao?” The fourth said to himself internally — how is that possible? Second Brother, who is allergic to everything under the sun — what normal person could endure living with him long-term? He looked at his older sister and his mother, who both seemed to be processing the news. His mother in particular — the fourth sensed that her expression had gone very wrong.

The fourth didn’t know that his older sister and his mother were each processing an entirely different piece of information.

Madam Luo froze. Gu Qiao’s birthday was in March? But her identity card said May. If Gu Qiao’s real birthday was indeed in March, then everything she had never understood before suddenly became clear: why her cousin had so abruptly married Lou Deyu; why her cousin had gone so long without contacting her after the wedding; the way Gu Qiao had acted toward Zhou Zan on her last visit. How could Gu Qiao possibly have had any warm feelings toward Zhou Zan? The child he had adopted was progressing smoothly through life and had gotten into a good university, while Gu Qiao hadn’t even gone to university.

Including why Zhou Zan had helped her get her Beijing residency, had arranged her marriage — not because of, or not only because of, any lingering affection for her cousin, but because Zhou Zan was using Gu Qiao to make amends for what he owed her cousin…

The fourth was still thinking of asking his second brother when the two of them had gotten together and how it had happened. But Luo Peiyin had already stood up and left the dining room.

Gu Qiao didn’t even bother wiping the toothpaste from her mouth before hurrying back to the bedside to continue her phone calls. A few strands of her hair stuck up at odd angles — she hadn’t towel-dried it after washing it the previous night and had simply fallen into bed, and in the morning had only halfheartedly grabbed at it a few times.

When the doorbell rang, Gu Qiao had already talked her way through a deal for three thousand pigskin leather jackets over the phone. But having learned from last time, she understood perfectly well that the deal would only truly be done once the jackets were in her hands. She called Peng Zhou and asked him to bring over a cashier’s check; all of her money together would barely cover the down payment.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

When Gu Qiao opened the door, she saw Luo Peiyin’s face. She had thought he would still be stewing over yesterday and wouldn’t come to find her this quickly.

“You haven’t eaten yet, I imagine. I picked these up on the way.” The moment Luo Peiyin saw Gu Qiao, he pressed a warm carton of milk and a red velvet cake into her hands.

Luo Peiyin looked at Gu Qiao’s hair and couldn’t hold back a smile: “Your hair really does live up to your name.” His fingers brushed away the toothpaste from her lips, and his other hand smoothed down her wayward hair.

Gu Qiao sat at the table and tilted her head back to drink nearly half the carton of milk in one go. You don’t realize how thirsty you are until you start drinking. She’d been on the phone for hours already since yesterday, and her mouth was completely parched.

Luo Peiyin took out an envelope and set it on the table: “For you — this is money for the hotel room.”

Gu Qiao glanced at the envelope. It was thick: “Where did you get this?”

“Where from? Cons? Tricks? Schemes? Fraud? Which one do you think I’m best at?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Same as you — honestly earned. Take it. I went to the bank and exchanged it into Foreign Exchange Certificates for you. I told you last time that I’d cover the cost of your hotel room, didn’t I?” Luo Peiyin had gone straight to the bank after leaving home, and by the time he came here, the check had already been converted into Foreign Exchange Certificates.

“I have plenty of money to pay for the room myself this time.” Never mind what she’d earned in Erenhot — just from this order of three thousand jackets alone, she could make thirty thousand yuan. Gu Qiao smiled at Luo Peiyin: “Don’t think I’m frugal because I don’t have money. It’s because I have money that I want to spend it where it counts. Let me tell you — among people my age, almost nobody has savings like mine. Just from this one deal alone, I’m looking at—” She held up her fingers in front of him. She knew perfectly well that one shouldn’t flaunt one’s wealth, and apart from family, she rarely told anyone how much she’d made. But she very much wanted Luo Peiyin to know.

“Since you have money, even better — right now I prefer adding to abundance over providing aid in adversity. Think of it as an investment. Others can invest in you, so why can’t I?”

“You keep it for yourself. You need money for plenty of things abroad.”

“I’m not that selfless. Even if I’m short myself, I’d still give you money for your business. Whatever I can give you is whatever I don’t need for myself. I find it easier to earn money than you do.”  At the very least, without risking his life.

“Do you really find it that easy?”

“Of course.”

“Then how do you do it?” There were certainly easy ways to make money in the world, but without capital, it wasn’t so simple — especially in a foreign country.

“Are you asking so you can steal my method?”

Gu Qiao pressed on: “Given our relationship, you wouldn’t mind letting me steal a little, would you?”

“This one requires a bit of skill — you’d need to study for a while.” Luo Peiyin turned her words back on her. “Given our relationship, you absolutely have to accept this money. Consider it my investment — if you lose, it’s on me. If you profit, it’s all yours.”

Gu Qiao stopped refusing. If she could bring others along to make money, she could bring Luo Peiyin too.

Gu Qiao held the thick stack of Foreign Exchange Certificates, drew in a long breath, and sent each word clearly into Luo Peiyin’s ears: “Don’t worry — you won’t lose anything. By the time you come back, I’ll have doubled your money.” She looked up at Luo Peiyin, her eyes full of hope for the future.

“I don’t need my money doubled. All I need is to come back and find you standing there in one piece. You matter far more to me than money.”

Gu Qiao didn’t answer. She looked down and began eating the red velvet cake. When she was halfway through, she raised her head and looked at Luo Peiyin: “This cake is delicious. Would you like some?”

“You have it — it’s too sweet for me.”

“I don’t have time to keep you company today. Next time you come back, I’ll definitely—” She needed to sign contracts, go to each of the workshops one by one to secure her sources, and also find time to visit her father at the hospital. There was no way to carve out time for Luo Peiyin right now — she could only promise later.

Luo Peiyin cut across her: “How many promises are you going to make? Everything is always ‘next time.’ Your ‘next time’ really covers everything, doesn’t it.”

“I—” Gu Qiao suddenly realized she had said “later” and “next time” in front of Luo Peiyin quite a lot…

“Do one thing you can actually do right now — finish your breakfast first.”

Gu Qiao bent her head over the cake, swallowing so fast she nearly choked.

Luo Peiyin didn’t wait for Gu Qiao to see him out. He had already picked up his jacket.

“Where are you going?”

“The Institute of High Energy Physics. It’s not far from your father’s hospital — I’ll go look in on him, so you don’t have to.”

If China was going to connect to the internet, the very first trial site would certainly be the Institute of High Energy Physics.