Sun Jingcheng didn’t wait until the evening after work. He went back to the family compound at lunchtime, freeloaded a meal, then drove Feng Yiqun and Grandmother back to the marital home. He worried bathing at night would be cold—if they bathed in the afternoon, they could enjoy some sun afterward.

Zhou Yu wasn’t grateful at all for his unauthorized decision. A whole long afternoon—how was she supposed to get along with Feng Yiqun? Moreover, last week the mother-daughter interaction hadn’t been very pleasant. She refused to admit she married Sun Jingcheng because she had feelings for him—marriage was simply wanting to leave the family compound. In other words, she didn’t want to live under the same roof as Feng Yiqun anymore.

Feng Yiqun made no comment on this.

After Sun Jingcheng brought them over, he went back to the office in the new district. Zhou Yu went to the master bedroom to run the bathtub, but Feng Yiqun heard the sound and came over saying: “Grandmother is tired. Wait until she wakes from her afternoon nap before bathing.”

Zhou Yu turned off the faucet.

Feng Yiqun glanced at the master bedroom, then returned to the living room to take care of Grandmother. The old lady rarely went out, so changing environments made everything look fresh to her—touching this, looking at that.

Originally there had been two comforters on the master bedroom bed. An hour ago, Zhou Yu had put one away. Two or three months ago when Feng Yiqun came to the house, she didn’t know how she detected the clues, but she was convinced something was wrong between her and Sun Jingcheng.

Later she guessed it was probably early September when school had just started and she was busy—the house was a bit messy. It happened that Feng Yiqun came in the evening that day, and unwashed breakfast dishes were still on the dining table. Sun Jingcheng also wasn’t home at the time—he was on a self-driving trip on the Sichuan-Tibet Highway.

Feng Yiqun was obsessive about certain things. No matter how tired, she wouldn’t eat takeout. No matter how late she got off work, she would cook herself a bowl of noodles. If viewed through modern values, she was the so-called person who was particular about life.

Starting from middle school, Feng Yiqun had taught her cooking skills—teaching a bit whenever there was time, teaching a bit whenever there was time. Not for anything else, but knowing some cooking skills would always help her take care of herself. In her concept, the atmosphere of daily life was three meals a day; it was the sounds of chopping and stir-frying in the kitchen at mealtime; it was family members sitting around the dining table eating together. Because Grandmother often said these things, saying that girls knowing cooking skills was a remarkable thing. From this, it was clear Grandmother had instilled plenty in Feng Yiqun too.

In Zhou Yu’s memory, Grandmother’s cooking skills were poor—for years she only knew how to cook those two dishes, and those two dishes were learned during her most difficult years. When young, she had written in an essay “My Grandmother,” writing that Grandmother was a cultured and kind person. She was noble but not delicate, able to teach children in soft tones how to write poetry, and also able to roll up her pant legs in the courtyard to make coal briquettes in the coming cold winter.

Grandmother lay down to sleep in the second bedroom. To keep herself from being idle, Zhou Yu began hanging the curtains she’d picked up from the dry cleaner. Tomorrow was Little New Year’s Eve, and a week later would be New Year’s Eve.

When she heard sounds from the kitchen and went over, Feng Yiqun was helping her wash dishes—dishes she had painstakingly accumulated together, planning to wash in the dishwasher. That idiot Sun Jingcheng—with just two people in the house, he bought the largest dishwasher set.

Feng Yiqun washed dishes while saying gently: “If you find that one too big, just buy a small dishwasher.”

Zhou Yu said: “Mainly there’s nowhere to put it.”

Feng Yiqun bent down to place the dishes in the cabinet, wiped her hands and said: “If you move this big one to the clinic, that solves it.” Then she surveyed the living room, praising the window decorations she’d put up as beautiful, praising the newly bought sofa cover for matching the living room style. Zhou Yu gave her hand cream, saying everything was bought online.

After applying hand cream, Feng Yiqun sat on the sofa and casually picked up a book from the coffee table to flip through. Zhou Yu made her a cup of black tea and also washed some fruit, then turned on the TV and sat there watching.

Feng Yiqun flipped through for a while, then closed the book, saying this translated version was mediocre, lacking some artistic conception and aesthetic appeal. She had a version translated by a Taiwanese writer.

“I think it’s pretty good.” Zhou Yu replied.

“It’s not bad either.” Feng Yiqun didn’t insist. “If you have time, you could read both versions.”

“Okay.” Zhou Yu responded.

“Does Jingcheng still play piano often?” Feng Yiqun looked toward the piano.

“He plays. Recently he plays every day.”

“That’s a good habit.”

The mother and daughter had nothing to say. After about two minutes of silence, Zhou Yu invited her to drink the black tea on the table. Feng Yiqun picked it up and sipped in small amounts. During this interval, Grandmother woke up. Zhou Yu took the opportunity to go to the bathroom to run the bath water, then stared blankly at the water in the bathtub and never went back to the living room.

After helping Grandmother bathe, Sun Jingcheng also got off work. He bought groceries on the way, and when he returned, Feng Yiqun took them to the kitchen to cook. Zhou Yu took the washed clothes out to hang. In the living room on the sofa, Grandmother chatted with Sun Jingcheng, saying in the past she and Yan Xishan were neighbors. During the time when people were starving to death, she even went to his house’s kitchen to steal grain.

Sun Jingcheng listened with his jaw dropped, asking her: “Grandmother, the Yan Xishan you’re talking about—is he from the Republic of China…”

“Not the Republic of China, before the founding. Later he lost the battle and fled to Taiwan.” Grandmother spoke with vivid detail. “Before he fled, he even instructed me to help look after his family.”

…

Sun Jingcheng went to the master bedroom to ask Zhou Yu for confirmation. Zhou Yu replied: “Yes, my grandmother really was neighbors with Yan Xishan. He was from the Nationalist Party faction, later fled to Taiwan.”

“You mean Yan Xishan?”

“Yeah, I mean Yan Xishan.”

“Wasn’t he from Shanxi?”

“I’m not clear about that. Anyway, my grandmother and he were neighbors.”

“And you’re a teacher—how did you study history…” Sun Jingcheng saw there was only one comforter on the bed. He froze for a moment, then muttered: “Didn’t even ask my opinion.” After speaking, without giving her a chance to respond, he went out in a cheerful mood.

…

After dinner, they sent Feng Yiqun and Grandmother back to the family compound. When he returned preparing to take a fragrant bath, there was already another comforter on the bed. He instantly understood what was happening. Without saying anything, he went to wash up feeling dejected.

After finishing the kitchen cleanup, Zhou Yu went to deep clean the living room. When tidying the balcony, she saw several empty flowerpots in the corner, stuffed them all in a large bag and threw them out.

After washing up, Sun Jingcheng curled up his legs and lay very obediently on the sofa, his eyes wandering everywhere, completely not looking at the person bent over mopping the floor. To make it look like he was doing something proper, he picked up a book and read seriously.

After Zhou Yu finished mopping all the floors, she stood with her hands on her hips catching her breath. Sun Jingcheng turned his back and buried his head in reading. She didn’t plan to let him off, asking: “Do you know why I’m mopping the floor?”

“Because it’s dirty.” Sun Jingcheng answered honestly.

“No.”

“Then why?”

“Because the robot mop you bought is broken.” Zhou Yu looked at him.

“Sorry, I’ll take it to be repaired tomorrow.”

Zhou Yu looked at him, suppressed the fire in her heart, and took the mop to the bathroom. Sun Jingcheng wisely followed: “Let me wash it.”

Zhou Yu didn’t bother with him, rinsing the mop bucket by bucket.

Sun Jingcheng felt inexplicably uncomfortable. He had long figured out the pattern—whenever she spontaneously deep cleaned at night, her mood couldn’t be good. He wasn’t clear what had happened and wasn’t good at comforting people. He could only say: “I’ll never deliberately upset you again in the future.”

He regretted even more that when he came back earlier and passed a crossroads, he saw an old-brand roasted goods shop. He had really wanted to get out and buy Zhou Yu a bag of sugar-roasted chestnuts and frosted hawthorn, because in the cold winter night, they looked so appetizing.

He thought he should have bought them. Zhou Yu would definitely have been very happy to see them.

On Little New Year’s Eve night, the Sun household was unusually quiet. Eldest Sister-in-law took her children, who were on winter break, back to her parents’ home. Second Sister-in-law also took her two sons back to her parents’ home. Zhou Yu also went back to her parents’ home. Ke Yu went back to his grandfather’s house in the afternoon—his father drove to pick him up. Mother Sun felt the living room was much more spacious. Usually, the grandchildren were either bouncing on the sofa, dragging the sofa cover around on the floor, or shrieking at the top of their lungs. She had never taken care of such exhausting children. By rights, when they left she should feel peaceful, but she didn’t. Instead, there was an indescribable sense of loss.

She sat at the dining table making dumplings, keeping her ears perked to listen to Sun Jingfei and Sun Jingcheng chatting about private matters. The siblings first chatted seriously on the balcony for a while, then came back to lie close together on the sofa, talking about things like midlife crisis.

She couldn’t listen anymore. Finding it overly sentimental, she told Fourth Brother: “Your symptoms sound like menopause!”

…

The two turned their backs and pressed their heads together to chat, looking very much like they disdained her. She cursed “little bastards” and didn’t bother with them. Unable to help listening for a while longer, she told Fourth Brother: “You’re a grown man…”

“Mom, can you just make dumplings? Why are you so nosy?” Sun Jingfei was exasperated.

“Then don’t talk in my house.” Mother Sun replied.

As they spoke, Sun Jingyue came back. Sun Jingfei asked him: “Why didn’t you come up from the clinic?”

Sun Jingyue took off his police uniform jacket. Seeing Mother Sun rolling wrappers while making dumplings, he said to her: “Won’t you help Mom out?”

“She only knows how to mooch meals.” Mother Sun pursed her lips.

“What’s wrong with Fourth Brother?” Sun Jingyue saw his listless appearance.

“Menopause has arrived.” Mother Sun chimed in.

“Eldest Brother, you’re becoming more and more like Dad.” Sun Jingfei said.

…

Sun Jingcheng was looking at his childhood friends’ group chat. Someone in the group suggested getting together before New Year. Six people total, four replied they weren’t available. Either they had to tend to children or accompany their wives shopping for New Year goods. And unanimously, everyone expressed envy of Sun Jingcheng, who was also married.

Old Jiang @him: “Brother, hang in there. We grandsons have completely fallen! You are the model of a real man! Guard the supreme dignity of us men!”

Old Chen @him: “Brother, hang in there, maintain yourself! Don’t become a wife slave, don’t become a daughter slave!”

Someone else sent a song titled: “Keep the Roots.”

…

Without a word, Sun Jingcheng directly left the group. But immediately he was pulled back in, with people asking: “Brother, what’s wrong? Did we say something that upset you?”

In the kitchen, Sun Jingyue was boiling dumplings. Sun Jingfei chatted with him, and as they chatted, they started arguing. Somehow the two ended up discussing the newly implemented “divorce cooling-off period.” Sun Jingyue was an absolute supporter, saying the country has its own considerations—the fact this policy exists is enough to show the current terrible state of marriages.

Sun Jingfei seized on this statement, asking why such terrible marriage situations occur. Can this policy solve the fundamental problem? Sun Jingyue said young people take marriage too lightly. Sun Jingfei said this policy didn’t consider those who truly need to divorce.

Sun Jingyue held up the strainer, pushing the dumplings in the pot: “They’re not preventing you from divorcing. Divorce after a month, won’t you?”

“What if I can’t endure this one month?”

“You can’t spare this one month?”

“I can’t.”

“Then hold it in.” Sun Jingyue wouldn’t argue with her.

“Let me rephrase the question.” Sun Jingfei looked completely serious. “How can you kill someone without paying with your life?”

…

“Come out and make dumplings.” Mother Sun tapped the bowl edge with chopsticks, saying to her: “Stop constantly gnawing on shit sticks and drooling.”

“No matter how you reason, you just take marriage too lightly. In our time, when marriage was broken, we fixed it—both parties made corrections. Now when it’s broken, just replace it, broken again, replace it again—you’ll never encounter a good one.”

Sun Jingcheng was replying to group WeChat messages when he heard Sun Jingfei shout: “Fourth Brother… Fourth Brother!”

A fight broke out in the kitchen.

A one-sided attack. Sun Jingyue pulled at his sweater looking at his back. Sun Jingfei stood to one side gripping the strainer. Mother Sun harshly cursed her a couple times and used a towel to wipe the food residue on Sun Jingyue’s back.

“Are you an idiot?” Sun Jingyue looked at her.

“I don’t kill people not because I’m kind, but because it’s illegal and I’d have to pay a price. If one day legislation made killing legal, half the world’s population would disappear.” Sun Jingfei replied to him. “We can randomly kill animals—how are humans any better than animals?”

“Do you have antisocial personality disorder?” Sun Jingyue poked her forehead hard. She waved both hands at him like cat claws, shouting: “Fourth Brother… Fourth Brother…”

Sun Jingcheng protected the dumplings in the pot, scooped them out to eat, and ignored them.

Sun Jingyue kicked him, telling him to move aside—he was the one who cooked the dumplings.

Mother Sun instructed Sun Jingfei, who was boiling dumplings in the kitchen: “The strainer can only push in one direction. Don’t let the dumplings fall apart.”

Sun Jingcheng found it too noisy and went downstairs. The clinic was even noisier. Sun Youping held a tongue depressor preparing to examine a child. The child thought he was going to cut his tongue and clenched his teeth tightly, snot and tears streaming down. In the isolation room, two elderly people wearing masks chatted nonsensically, three meters apart, but it didn’t affect their conversation at all. One spoke loudly, one tilted his ear to listen. After listening, he’d respond loudly, and the other would tilt his ear to listen.

The conversation went as follows: “How come none of Old Sun’s sons took over his practice?”

“The eldest is a criminal police officer, the second runs a big restaurant, and Fourth Brother… don’t know what he does, but anyway he didn’t amount to anything.”

…

Sun Youping wore a mask, so his expression couldn’t be seen. Sun Jingcheng looked very unhappy, but it wasn’t worth arguing about, so he simply left the clinic and stood under the phoenix tree in front. After ten minutes, he went back… An assistant stood at the door holding a thermometer, asking him to wear a mask and scan a code.

…

Sun Jingcheng made a big detour and went upstairs through the residential complex entrance. Sun Jingfei asked him why he didn’t come up from the clinic. Sun Jingyue responded, saying that before New Year there were controls—all private clinics required masks and code scanning, no random entry or exit allowed.

“Strict control is good. It’s New Year—who knows where everyone’s coming back from.” Mother Sun instructed: “You all be careful too, go to crowded places less.”

“We don’t have any confirmed cases here, right?”

“Not currently.”