Zhao Xunxun and Xie Pingning’s divorce proceedings went as quietly as their wedding had. The night before their scheduled appointment, they had a long phone conversation. For the last time, Xie Pingning asked the woman who had shared his life for three years if she had truly thought everything through. From his perspective, even though the scandal had already spread between their families, life was ultimately their own to live, and divorce wasn’t necessary. He admitted that “everyone made mistakes,” and as long as she was willing, there was still room for reconciliation.
During Xunxun’s silence, Xie Pingning candidly expressed that if they divorced, he might desperately pursue Shao Jiaquan, or he might not. Even if things didn’t work out with Shao Jiaquan, finding another suitable woman wouldn’t be difficult for him. But for Xunxun, who would turn twenty-nine after the New Year, being divorced and socially reserved would make things different. Even if she could remarry, finding someone suitable wouldn’t be easy. If she didn’t accept her fate, she might waste her youth being deceived by men’s sweet words and empty promises, and might not even be as lucky as Sister Yanli had been in her day.
Though Xie Pingning’s words weren’t pleasant to hear, they were heartfelt truths, not meant to mock or deliberately retain Xunxun. Without the confusion of love and hate, genuine words could emerge. After all, having been husband and wife, even if just as business partners walking half the journey together without deep-seated grievances, they still held some mutual appreciation.
Truthfully, for a moment, Xunxun almost changed her mind. While Xie Pingning wasn’t an ideal match, how much better could the next man be? Often, life was just one mistake after another. But in the end, she gritted her teeth and only said, “Thank you for your kind words.” She had already been cautious enough, and the thought of living with someone holding leverage over her, constantly walking on eggshells – her hoped-for peaceful, simple life would never return.
Because Xunxun had given others something to hold against her, Xie Pingning held the advantage in the divorce proceedings, but he didn’t take things to the extreme. He gave Xunxun their jointly purchased small apartment, while she relinquished all other marital assets and post-divorce alimony. Xunxun ignored Sister Yanli’s protests, feeling this was fair, even exceeding her expectations. Though she had prepared herself to receive nothing, she had no reason to refuse when offered something, as she viewed life’s practicalities as far more important than pride. Having reached an agreement on property division, they avoided legal disputes and peacefully completed their divorce at the Civil Affairs Bureau.
Leaving the registration hall, Xie Pingning offered to give her a ride, but Xunxun declined as they were heading in opposite directions. Standing on the bluish-gray marble steps, she bid him farewell. He remained silent but didn’t immediately turn away. Perhaps one of them had thought of giving the other a farewell embrace, but before acting on it, an inner voice said: forget it, no need. In the weak afternoon sunlight of early autumn, their shadows stretched long on the polished floor, pointing in the same direction but never meeting. As the wind swept half-yellow, half-green leaves across the ground, Xunxun suddenly felt this scene perfectly encapsulated their three years together.
After the divorce, Xunxun temporarily moved back to her parent’s home, as her small apartment was still rented out until early next spring, making it difficult to reclaim immediately. Within less than a week, Sister Yanli was already complaining incessantly about Xunxun returning home “in disgrace.” Sometimes she blamed her for not maintaining her dignity, sometimes for divorcing too easily and letting Xie Pingning off the hook, but most often for making her lose face in front of relatives and friends, especially the Zeng family relatives. The old cat Xunxun brought back became particularly irritating to her mother.
During this time, that expensive hospital equipment mysteriously appeared frequently in Professor Zeng’s ward, finally bringing a satisfied smile to Sister Yanli’s face.
However, in front of Xunxun, she still made pointed remarks, either saying that marriages with younger men rarely last or that her daughter’s choice wasn’t as reliable as her selection would have been, suggesting everything still needed evaluation. Xunxun knew arguing would only excite her mother more, so she pretended not to hear.
But all of this became insignificant when, shortly after Xunxun moved back home, a much bigger event suddenly occurred, temporarily overshadowing even Xunxun’s divorce. After nearly completing a course of special treatment, Professor Zeng suddenly awoke one morning. Opening his eyes for the first time since falling ill, he took a while to find his wife among the people gathered around his bed.
In less than two months since Professor Zeng fell ill, Sister Yanli had aged more than two years. Professor Zeng tried to speak several times, and while the doctor and Zeng Yu thought he had something urgent to say, after waiting and listening for a long while, they finally made out his words: “Your hair has turned white.”
Professor Zeng and Sister Yanli’s relationship began with basic male-female attraction, whether she loved him as a person or loved his money and status – at present, these had become somewhat inseparable. Growing old together as husband and wife, during those days when Professor Zeng’s eyes were closed, if he retained any consciousness, he must have felt Sister Yanli’s devoted care. Sister Yanli was so moved she couldn’t stop crying, pacing around the hospital room like a headless fly before shakily bringing that day’s freshly made chicken soup, and trying to feed it to Professor Zeng after cooling it. The nurses firmly stopped her, saying the patient couldn’t digest such food yet. Still, she held onto the soup bowl, refusing to put it down, continuing to cry, as if releasing all her fear and worry of the past months through tears.
Tears welled in Xunxun’s eyes too as she softly comforted her mother. Professor Zeng, unable to move, kept his gaze fixed on Sister Yanli, a hint of a smile on his lips. Even Zeng Yu was touched by this scene. She left the room alone, closing the door to give them privacy, and called her siblings to share the joy of their father’s awakening.
Unfortunately, this joy didn’t last long, with devastating news following the initial elation. Around one o’clock in the afternoon, Professor Zeng, who had been awake for less than half a day, showed abnormal EKG readings and quickly fell back into a coma, never to wake again. Before Sister Yanli could emerge from her happiness, she heard the doctor’s difficult “I’m sorry.” She refused to believe it, repeatedly looking at the doctor, then tugging at her daughter Xunxun’s hand, dazedly repeating, “He was just awake, he was just awake, you all saw it, everyone saw it…”
The doctor tried heavily to explain everything using medical principles, reminding them that the risks of the special treatment had been disclosed to the family from the start. Xunxun couldn’t find words either, only able to hold her mother who seemed possessed. Yet no matter how much Sister Yanli refused to accept reality, she could feel the body she was touching and shaking gradually growing cold and stiff, life slipping away. He would never again hold her waist and dance with her in the evening square, nor pluck her white hairs at the dressing table, praising each new wrinkle.
“It’s my fault!” It wasn’t until late at night, when Zeng Yu finally stepped in to help the hospital staff move Professor Zeng’s body to the morgue, that Sister Yanli let out her first real cry. She leaned against her daughter, her makeup still smeared. “Why did I force him to wake up? If I had known, I would rather he had stayed in bed for the rest of his life, I would have cared for him until the day I died, at least then I would have had something to look forward to every morning when I woke up. Now, everything is gone, gone!”
Professor Zeng’s funeral was grand and dignified. Having taught for half his life, he was highly respected with students spread far and wide. At the memorial service, all the academy leaders attended, and students who heard the news packed the funeral home. His son and daughter from his previous marriage also returned from out of town. Sister Yanli pretended not to see them, leaving Xunxun to awkwardly step in and discuss funeral arrangements with them on her mother’s behalf.
Since Xunxun officially moved into the Zeng household, she hadn’t seen these step-siblings, only hearing about them indirectly from Zeng Yu. They were reportedly well-known experts in their respective fields, but now before she stood two middle-aged people with reddened eyes and complex expressions.
She timidly called out, “Elder Brother, Elder Sister.”
They nodded, their faces remaining distant, preferring to discuss matters privately with Zeng Yu rather than talk with her. Xunxun didn’t dare join their conversations, so when Sister Yanli questioned her about their intentions, she could only honestly say she didn’t know.
Another group of people approached Professor Zeng’s widow to express their condolences, and Sister Yanli burst into tears again, but Xunxun no longer rushed to comfort her. This was Sister Yanli’s nth time appearing heartbroken, and while her crying was sorrowful and moving, this precisely proved she had recovered from her initial grief enough to have the presence of mind to fully display her suffering. Xunxun knew very well that when things quieted down, her mother would once again eagerly inquire about how much funeral money they had received and what Professor Zeng’s children from his previous marriage might be plotting against her.
It wasn’t that Xunxun doubted her mother’s feelings about her stepfather’s death. Sister Yanli was truly devastated by Professor Zeng’s passing, but she had already shed her most genuine tears the day he died. Only those tears were shed for herself – when people are truly grief-stricken, they become somewhat numb. The rest of the tears were for the spectators.
Among that group were school leaders. Sister Yanli was crying so intensely that she began to sink while holding the memorial table, appearing to collapse. The leaders, being around her age and of the opposite sex, were caught in an awkward position of whether to support her or not. Just as Xunxun was about to step forward, she noticed her mother had found a new support. A young man in black clothes was holding her up, and she unabashedly leaned against him, sobbing uncontrollably. The scene appeared so natural that no one questioned it – those who didn’t know better might have assumed he was a relative of the deceased.
Xunxun pinched her thigh hard, and it hurt. She knew both her mother and the young man in black separately, but seeing them together in one frame made no sense to her. She knew she must look dumbfounded, but she couldn’t close her half-open mouth.
Zeng Yu was initially very emotional upon seeing her older brother and sister. The three siblings talked together, sometimes smiling, sometimes wiping tears. But somehow their conversation turned into an argument, with the older siblings looking stern while Zeng Yu refused to back down. They parted on bad terms, and Zeng Yu returned to Xunxun’s side with a rigid expression.
When she wanted to talk, you had to listen whether you wanted to or not, so Xunxun didn’t bother asking.
Sure enough, watching the guests coming and going before her father’s portrait, Zeng Yu suddenly asked, “What do you think people live for?”
Though the question was broad and abstract, Xunxun stared at the memorial table for a while before turning to answer Zeng Yu. “I think it’s to die,” she said.
Zeng Yu ignored her and continued, “My brother and sister still don’t understand – when someone’s gone, why care about material things? I often looked down on how my mother did things and doubted my father’s judgment, but I saw with my own eyes that he was content in the end. Right or wrong doesn’t matter – it’s enough to live without regrets. If I could have a lifelong companion, I’d be satisfied too.”
Actually, Xunxun deeply questioned what constituted a lifelong companion. She often felt that people had no true hometown – what we call a hometown is merely the last stop in our ancestors’ long journey. Similarly, no one is destined to grow old with another person; a lifelong companion is simply the last lover you meet before death. If you’re still alive, nothing is final.
She said to Zeng Yu, “If you died now, wouldn’t Lian Quan become your lifelong companion?”
“Nonsense! I knew you’d say something ominous. How could he and I possibly last forever? He’s someone who hates being bound, and he only enjoys being with me because I don’t demand lifelong promises from him. Just yesterday he asked if he should take leave to attend, but I told him not to, it would be awkward like he was a future son-in-law… Hey, look who’s that?” Zeng Yu suddenly shifted her attention mid-sentence.
Xunxun felt like crying with relief – finally, someone else had noticed something wasn’t right.
“They’re all here, I’ll go say hello.” Zeng Yu left Xunxun’s side, heading toward a corner of the guest seating area where Professor Zeng’s former students gathered, including many of her old classmates, her former lover, and her former lover’s former lover. When Xunxun looked back to where she had been watching, Sister Yanli sat alone by the memorial table sobbing, while the other person who had seemed like a family member had vanished.
Someone tapped her shoulder from behind. Xunxun guessed who it was and turned around irritably, but was surprised to find Xie Pingning. Her raised eyebrows startled him, and he withdrew his hand self-deprecatingly, “Am I that unwelcome?”
Embarrassed, Xunxun said, “Not at all, thank you for coming.”
“I should be here. Although we’re no longer married, the deceased was once my father-in-law. He was a good man, and I’m truly sorry for your loss. My condolences to you all. I won’t go speak to your mother though – I’m afraid it might upset her.”
Xunxun nodded repeatedly. Before their divorce proceedings, if she hadn’t desperately stopped her mother, Sister Yanli would have gone to make a scene at her son-in-law’s workplace. In this first face-to-face encounter after the divorce, caught between extreme familiarity and extreme unfamiliarity, neither knew where to begin.
Xie Pingning, being more experienced, broke the silence after a moment: “How have you been lately? With such a major family event, you don’t look well. Let me know if there’s anything I can help with.”
“Nothing, thank you.”
“Are you… still with him?” Xie Pingning wanted to ask but found it difficult to phrase.
“No!” Xunxun answered instinctively, nervously scanning the room, hoping Xie Pingning hadn’t noticed that person since his arrival.
“It’s impossible between us.”
Xie Pingning looked confused, “So you divorced me simply because you wanted to leave?”
“No, Pingning. I think we were wrong from the start. I’m someone who can just get by, but you’re different – you have someone you truly care about in your heart. Since we’ve separated, I don’t want to discuss who was right or wrong anymore. I hope you live the life you want.”
“I’m planning to study elsewhere for a while, in Shanghai,” Xie Pingning said, appearing much more relaxed after speaking these words.
Xunxun understood, of course, and smiled slightly while looking down. “That’s good.”
“Xunxun, I hope you’ll be happy too, you’re a good…”
“Of course she is.” Xie Pingning’s words were cut off mid-sentence. Xunxun saw the hem of a high-quality black suit enter her field of vision. She inwardly sighed – some people always appeared at the most unwanted moments, and always with perfect timing.
Chi Cheng stood beside Xunxun with his hands behind his back, smiling at Xie Pingning: “Thank you for your concern, but since you’re divorced, her well-being is no longer your business.”
Xie Pingning was surprised by his appearance but didn’t argue. He simply said coolly to Xunxun, “I have some matters to attend to, so I’ll take my leave.”
At that moment, one of the leaders or colleagues who had earlier consoled Sister Yanli walked up to them, greeting them in passing.
“You’re Xunxun, right? We’ve rarely seen you since you married. Your uncle often praised you for being sensible when he was alive. He passed away peacefully, don’t be too sad.”
Xunxun only knew the person looked familiar, perhaps living in the same building as her mother’s home, so she bowed slightly in thanks. The person took out an envelope from their coat pocket and handed it to Chi Cheng, who was closest.
“This is a small token from the department colleagues, please pass it to your mother-in-law, and tell her to take care and not cry herself sick.”
Xunxun heard only a “clang” in her mind. She felt like a lightning rod, standing tall, naturally attracting thunderbolts. Still dazed and unsure what to say, she watched as the person patted Chi Cheng’s shoulder, nodded to her, and walked away.
Xie Pingning’s face showed a cold smile of understanding. “I was worried you weren’t doing well, but it seems I was overthinking.”
Xunxun blushed furiously and pushed Chi Cheng from behind.
“What nonsense did you tell others?”
Chi Cheng stepped back, both amused and annoyed. “What did I say? That bastard made his assumptions! How is that my fault? Don’t blame everything, good or bad, on me.”
“Who else should I blame if not you? Who asked you to come? Get away from me.” Xunxun was so angry she didn’t care if her words were harsh. What she didn’t realize was that Xie Pingning, used to seeing her gentle and refined, now watched her venting and complaining to Chi Cheng like a couple’s playful banter. Feeling somewhat dejected and thinking himself rather pathetic, he didn’t want to say more and told Xunxun, “I’m leaving. Take care of yourself.”
Chi Cheng casually added, “Don’t worry, she’ll be better off than when she was with you.”
“You have no right to comment on my relationship with her!” Even the usually composed Xie Pingning couldn’t help but get angry. “What do you know? What right do you have to judge?”
Chi Cheng continued smiling at Xunxun with his hands behind his back, “Is this what your ex-husband was always like? No wonder you couldn’t stand him and wanted a divorce.”
“Xunxun, I’ll warn you one last time – open your eyes. This man is just a romance scammer. Wasn’t it enough that Jiaquan fell for his tricks? Now he’s trying to prey on you. There’s no medicine for regret in this world.” Xie Pingning directed these words at Xunxun.
Xunxun couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t confront each other directly, instead using her as a proxy for their conflict.
“I don’t know what you’re all talking about.”
Chi Cheng said, “Keep pretending to be confused if you want but let me say this – whether I’m a scammer or not, at least I have feelings, unlike some people… Yes, you can’t eat feelings, but marrying someone who has no feelings at all makes even food hard to swallow. Better to divorce sooner rather than later. Xunxun, wouldn’t you agree?”
Xie Pingning’s expression changed upon hearing this. Without another word, he turned and left.
Watching him leave, Xunxun coldly addressed the remaining person, “Now you can leave too. You came here to cause trouble, and you’ve achieved your goal, so why are you still hanging around?”
“You think too highly of me. I’m not that capable. I came today just to see you.” He turned half a circle in front of her, tugging at his clothes, and said with self-satisfaction, “How do I look in this? I bought it, especially after seeing the obituary. Properly solemn, right?”
Xunxun replied irritably, glancing toward the coffin, “It’s formal enough – suitable even if you were the one lying in there.”
Chi Cheng wasn’t offended and smiled, “You don’t mean that. I can see appreciation in your eyes.”
Xunxun felt sick. “You act so convincingly, that people might think you’re the bereaved family member and I’m just going through the motions.”
“Then you should reflect on yourself. Your mother says you spent over ten years with your stepfather, and he treated you well. Why don’t I see you showing any grief?”
Indeed, throughout the funeral, Xunxun didn’t shed a single tear. But this didn’t mean she wasn’t sad. She was grateful to Professor Zeng for giving her mother and her those worry-free years, and his sudden passing left an emptiness in her heart. Perhaps because she had anticipated this outcome, and was occupied with the complicated funeral arrangements, plus being someone who, despite her shortcomings, rarely cried, she couldn’t shed tears now – just as when her birth father passed away. When it came to dramatic crying, Sister Yanli had set such a high standard that she didn’t want to poorly imitate it.
Xunxun glared at Chi Cheng and ignored him, but she noticed that wherever she went, he followed. With acquaintances everywhere, this was like parading him around, so she had to stop in an inconspicuous corner.
“Stop following me. I don’t want people to misunderstand.”
Chi Cheng said, “When everyone misunderstands except you, maybe what they see is the truth, and you’re the mistaken one. You don’t dislike me – you’re afraid of yourself.”
Xunxun indeed didn’t dislike Chi Cheng. Most women would find it hard to truly dislike a handsome face that always smiled at them. Even though he was the culprit who had forced her marriage to its end, her marriage had been like a castle built of blocks – just one slightly tilted piece at the bottom could make it all collapse. He was the hand that pushed her, though his motives were unclear, but she hadn’t been unshakeable either. Rather than hatred, she feared him, or as he said, she feared the unfamiliar self he brought out in her. But this was far from love.
“How childish! Not disliking you doesn’t mean I want to be with you.”
“I’m childish? Hmph! Age and intelligence aren’t always proportional.” Chi Cheng seemed to recall something and smiled, “Your ex-husband is the childish one. Before your divorce, he called me… You didn’t know?”
“What did he say?” Xunxun hadn’t known about this, and he didn’t seem to be lying. Since he was being mysterious about it, she played along.
“He was worried I’d trick you and sell you to Java. In his eyes, you’re just an inexperienced, anxious housewife with no survival skills, easy to be taken advantage of completely.”
“Aren’t I?”
“Haha!” Chi Cheng laughed exaggeratedly, “I told Xie Pingning then, it’s a pity that after years together, he doesn’t understand you at all.”
“So you understand me?” Xunxun was intrigued. She wanted to see what qualified him to say this when she didn’t even understand herself.
Chi Cheng stroked his chin, “I think you’re both pessimistic and practical. You believe everything is fake, yet somehow convince yourself to treat it as real. For example, being with someone like you is like two people lost in the desert, walking until they’re almost out of supplies when suddenly they see smoke or city walls in the distance… Your companion thinks they’re saved and rushes forward excitedly, but you’d come up with iron-clad reasons why going there would still mean death because it’s just a mirage. Your companion, hearing this, would despair and might throw away their last half bottle of water and die by suicide. You’d then pick up that half bottle and continue walking toward the mirage – fake or not, at least that half bottle of water could help you hold on a while longer.”
After listening, Xunxun stared blankly and mimicked his chin-stroking gesture. She thought this pose looked good, appearing deep in thought even if her mind was blank. “I have a question – who’s my companion in this scenario?”
Chi Cheng shrugged, “Who knows? Just some unfortunate fellow!”
After lingering for a while, Chi Cheng suddenly received a phone call and said he had to leave early. Just as Xunxun was relieved to see this plague leave, Zeng Yu approached with a puzzled expression, pointing at his retreating figure, “Who was that?”
Xunxun stammered and avoided the question.
“He looks somewhat familiar?” Zeng Yu pondered.
Xunxun’s heart stirred, “You’ve seen him before?” She felt strangely excited, mixed with some fear of the truth being revealed. If Zeng Yu knew Chi Cheng, it would confirm that she had crossed paths with him before.
After thinking hard, Zeng Yu gave an answer that made Xunxun want to die. She said, “I can’t remember clearly, maybe he looks like the male lead from a TV drama I watched early this year.”
Seeing Xunxun speechless, Zeng Yu smiled and said, “At least he’s easy on the eyes. You two were whispering in the corner – don’t think I didn’t notice. Come on, tell me who he is?”
Xunxun blushed, and Zeng Yu immediately caught on. She pointed at Xunxun, “That… oh, I know! He’s that person!” Excitedly, she playfully turned over Xunxun’s palm and mimicked writing that name on it.
“Am I right?”
Xunxun made a “shush” gesture, though she wasn’t sure who they needed to keep it from.
Zeng Yu sighed deeply. “The timid starve, the bold thrive. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have refused Lian Quan’s offer. If an adulterer can come, why can’t a friend with benefits?”