Ge Fan was awakened in the morning by an unstoppable phone ringtone. He’d silence it and it would ring again, ring and silence, back and forth several times. He sprang up from bed, squinting as he swiped to answer, ready to curse someone out.
But a soft, gentle greeting from the other end made him swallow his words: “Brother Fan, good morning. Well, I’m just asking, is our Xiao Jiu at her dad’s place? She’s not answering her phone.”
Ge Fan never expected it to be Wen Wen. He vigorously rubbed his eyes: “Sister Wen, hold on, let me go check.”
He threw off the covers and got out of bed, walking out of Yu Kaixuan’s east-facing second bedroom in his pajamas. Two steps brought him to the south-facing second bedroom where he glanced inside. The door was half-open, the bed neatly made. He checked the time: “She should have gone to work. Probably sitting at the counter again today, no time to answer calls. Do you need something?”
What a question—would she make a relentless chain of calls if it wasn’t important? Ge Fan rubbed his head that had been beaten up yesterday, grimacing in pain, then said: “How did you know I was staying at my dad’s place?”
“What don’t I know? Who am I?” She laughed through her nose and hung up.
Ge Fan also smiled with pursed lips. Turning around, he saw Meng Huihong standing at the bathroom door with a powder puff, applying makeup. Her gaze swept up and down at him as if it could speak. Meng Huihong had long been accustomed to the casual way Ge Fan and Wen Wen addressed each other. Right now she was disgusted that his head had almost been split open by his “good brother” yesterday, yet today he could still sleep until nine-thirty—what nerve. Finally, she glared at his face.
“What are you looking at? Am I annoying after just one night? I’ll go back to the dorm tonight.” He rubbed his stomach. “What’s for breakfast?”
Yu Kaixuan had already finished breakfast and gone to the bathhouse. On the dining table sat several leftover steamed buns and fried sweet cakes. The rice cooker nearby held millet and red date porridge. Three to five boiled eggs remained, and two small plates of pickles were nearly empty—one plate of eight-treasure vegetables bought from the deli downstairs, and one plate of Meng Huihong’s homemade crispy sweet and sour pickled radish.
Ge Fan peeled an egg, pinched it in half with chopsticks, took one half, placed two pieces of radish wrapped in sweet and sour sauce on the yolk, and stuffed it all in his mouth in one bite. The refreshing quality of the sweet and sour radish and the rich fragrance of the egg yolk canceled each other out while enhancing each other—appetizing and energizing. He’d learned this eating method from Yu Kaixuan, and one bite had opened the door to a new world.
But as he ate, he thought of yesterday’s rotten mess, and suddenly nothing tasted good anymore.
Meng Huihong had just finished applying lipstick. She put on her down jacket, picked up her purse to head to Wendu Water Palace, and turned to see Ge Fan sitting there in a daze with stiff shoulders, his mouth still stuffed with egg—unable to chew, unable to swallow.
“What’s wrong? Bit your tongue?”
Ge Fan looked at her: “Mom, am I an idiot?”
“Isn’t that obvious?”
Ge Fan didn’t care, swallowed the egg and said: “It’s been a whole week, how did I not realize that Sun Xi’s Sun was that Sun? I almost became sworn brothers with him, even brought him to eat with my dad and Xiao Jiu. Complete idiot. Should have figured it out earlier. If he weren’t that Sun, would Sister Wen and Xiao Fu have tried to extort his family to death…”
Meng Huihong was too lazy to listen and went to the door to change shoes.
“And if I trace this back to the root, Mom, this whole thing is actually your fault.”
“What does it have to do with me?”
Ge Fan got animated, stretching his neck: “If you hadn’t insisted on introducing Xiao Fu to Xiao Jiu in the first place, Xiao Fu wouldn’t have met Sister Wen, none of this big mess would have happened, Sun Xi wouldn’t have come back, and my head wouldn’t be injured. Isn’t that how it is?”
Meng Huihong laughed in exasperation: “I had good intentions. I thought Xiao Fu’s conditions were so good.”
“What’s so good about him? He’s like a wilted cucumber.”
“Only you’re good—you’re that fresh cucumber with its flower and thorns still attached. Haven’t seen you bring home even half a girlfriend.”
“Girlfriends are everywhere, aren’t they? What’s the rush?”
“You say they’re everywhere, but I haven’t seen you date anyone in all these years. Do you have some kind of problem, son?”
Ge Fan got flustered, stopped eating, and spoke somewhat carelessly: “Here we go again. You didn’t only give birth to me. Don’t just nag me alone. If you have this energy, go manage Zhu Duomei!”
Meng Huihong’s expression instantly changed. She lowered her head to put on her shoes, said nothing, and slammed the door.
Ge Fan regretted it as soon as he said it. He shuffled back to his room in slippers, sat on the bed feeling stifled, casually scrolling through WeChat. He saw that Xiao Zhuang had posted a sarcastic Moments update that morning: “The pretentious peddler finally rolled away,” with images of Audi and Prada logos underneath, a string of likes and applause below. Ge Fan said nothing.
He exited Moments, found Yu Jiuqi’s chat window, and sent her a message: [Sister Wen was just looking for you, don’t know what it’s about.]
Then he sent another: [What time did you leave? Did you eat breakfast?]
Yu Jiuqi never replied. He didn’t wait either, got ready for work. When leaving, he saw the shoes at the door messily scattered—normally Meng Huihong would organize them neatly.
Ge Fan sighed, gritted his teeth, and transferred 520 yuan to Meng Huihong on WeChat. Meng Huihong accepted it instantly, then sent back an OK gesture. The matter was settled.
Yu Jiuqi only saw Ge Fan’s WeChat several hours later, but before that, she had already seen Wen Wen.
With year-end approaching, Xiao Jiu knew she’d have to see Wen Wen sooner or later. She’d even quietly tracked Wen Wen’s whereabouts. Wen Wen rarely posted on Moments, seldom interacted on Douyin or Kuaishou. She did have a small cosmetics shop across from Shi City No. 2 Middle School, but most of the time the clerk Zhang Pan was busy there. Xiao Jiu had specifically asked—Wen Wen hadn’t been there once these past few days.
Yu Jiuqi hadn’t slept much yesterday. Among her futile, chaotic thoughts, she’d figured out how to end this cold war with Wen Wen. It was simple—like many times before, shamelessly take her out for a meal and coax her.
She’d even chosen the place. Some literary youth who’d returned from a big city had opened a jazz lounge bar in Shi City. Yu Jiuqi bet this bourgeois-styled lounge wouldn’t last six months in rough-and-tumble Shi City, and also bet that within those six months, Wen Wen would definitely be the customer who contributed the most revenue. In any case, taking her there, she’d definitely be satisfied.
Xiao Jiu had planned everything well, but never expected Wen Wen would come find her first.
Today was the day a large pharmaceutical company distributed pensions. For those retired elderly, the numbers in social security accounts were far less tangible and safe than cash in hand. Early in the morning, they lined up to withdraw money. With temperatures dropping again recently, afraid the elderly would freeze waiting in line, Yu Jiuqi and two colleagues specifically opened early, letting them wait in the well-heated hall, then sat at the counters as quickly as possible, striving to finish the pension business by morning.
About halfway through, having just dealt with an elderly woman with poor eyesight and temper, Yu Jiuqi dizzily took a confused gulp of instant coffee, then sat up straight. She only glanced outside and said: “Hello, did you bring both your social security passbook and ID?”
She first smelled a rich fragrance of powder and rouge. The scent of camellia mixed with jasmine dispersed through the curved glass window. Without her deliberately breathing to identify it, it deftly drilled into her nostrils, triggering an instinctive stress response. Xiao Jiu’s alarm bells went off. Her brain, which had been muddled all morning, suddenly cleared. She turned her head in panic.
Wen Wen wore an exaggerated black beach lamb short fur coat, bent over with one leg kicked out, standing at the window. Her tiny head pressed close to the glass window, thick luxuriant hair covering both cheeks, leaving only a narrow strip of extremely delicate features in the middle—charming eyes, upturned nose. Her moist lips first pursed into a curved arc, then with slightly moving eyes, she smiled brightly and said: “Pretty busy, huh, Jiu?”
“Mom, how did you get here?” Yu Jiuqi’s face flushed instantly.
“If Mom didn’t come here, I couldn’t find you.” An old man behind urged her. Wen Wen turned back and smiled. “Wait a moment. I’m just saying a word to my daughter and I’ll leave. What’s the rush? The money’s in the bank—can it grow legs and run away?”
Yu Jiuqi was going crazy, pleading with her quietly: “Mom, please go back first. I have so many people here. I’ll call you during my break, okay? Please leave first.”
Wen Wen acted as if she hadn’t heard, only looking at Xiao Jiu: “Have you missed me these past few days?”
Xiao Jiu knew she wouldn’t leave without being coaxed, so she obediently answered: “Yes.”
Wen Wen covered her chest expressing emotion, then said: “Then come find me after work. I’ll take you out to have fun.”
“Okay, okay, okay. Please leave, Mom.”
When Wen Wen left, she even greeted the colleague sitting next to Xiao Jiu, walking leisurely out of the bank hall as if she’d visited a market, leaving behind a strong fragrant scent and a string of pointing, strange stares.
Yu Jiuqi continued working with an unchanged expression, seemingly oblivious to the noise inside and out, but her heart was rumbling. Although she’d long been accustomed to Wen Wen’s unpredictable moods, her eagerness to take the initiative to make peace at this critical juncture meant something must have happened.
That morning, Yu Jiuqi had seen the Moments post by Ge Fan’s KTV colleague and knew Sun Xi had already left. Wen Wen also knew quite a few people from Lesheng Huang, so of course she also knew the cricket she’d been determined to fight had run away.
So then, was she here to hold her accountable?
Yu Jiuqi spent that entire day in anxious confusion. She forgot to contact Wen Wen. Before getting off work, Wen Wen sent her an address, telling her to come directly. Xiao Jiu clicked it open—it was exactly that jazz lounge bar called Domino.
The lounge had two floors, both with U-shaped seating areas. The middle was open all the way through with a huge European-style chandelier hanging down. Below the chandelier was the central stage, where several jazz performances were held each week.
Wen Wen sat in the most central position on the first floor, waving her slender arms to call Yu Jiuqi over. The two sat together. Xiao Jiu noticed she wore a blue velvet long dress under her fur. The room had plenty of heating, and she had a constitution that didn’t fear cold. She draped the fur coat loosely, two thin long arms exposed, excessively white.
Yu Jiuqi took off her down jacket. Underneath was a plain short sweater. Though it showed her slender figure, sitting next to the elegant Wen Wen, she was purely a passerby.
Wen Wen asked what she wanted to eat. Xiao Jiu said whatever, so she ordered two signature salads and a platter of snacks. Wen Wen always strictly controlled her diet at night—her good figure hadn’t been easily maintained all these years.
After actually sitting down, the atmosphere between mother and daughter became somewhat strange. Wen Wen wasn’t as willful and playful as at the bank that morning, but suddenly became much colder. She sat at an angle listening to the not particularly professional jazz band performing on stage, occasionally swaying slightly to the music. But her expression was gloomy and heavy. She didn’t say a word to Xiao Jiu, as if a stranger sat beside her.
Yu Jiuqi, like most locals here, couldn’t understand jazz at all. She turned to look around. Some were cracking sunflower seeds, scrolling through short videos, laughing and flirting romantically. She even heard drinking games and finger-guessing shouts from the second floor in the distance. In the entire venue, only Wen Wen was most engaged.
Not until one song ended did Wen Wen turn back, but she didn’t acknowledge Xiao Jiu, just glanced at the food on the table. Xiao Jiu immediately understood and moved a plate of salad in front of her.
Wen Wen rolled her eyes, her slender fingers only picking up that half boiled egg from the salad, then took two pieces of pickled cucumber, dipped them in some salad dressing, carefully placed them on the egg yolk, and then handed it to Xiao Jiu.
Yu Jiuqi suddenly felt a warmth in her heart. She took that half carefully prepared egg and ate it.
Wen Wen tilted her head watching her: “Is it good?”
Xiao Jiu’s nose felt a bit sour: “It’s good.”
When Yu Jiuqi was little, she was very picky about food, especially didn’t like eating eggs. She always felt the yolk was smelly and refused to eat it no matter what, worrying Yu Kaixuan sick. Wen Wen never really concerned herself with Xiao Jiu’s daily life matters, but one day at breakfast, she sat across from Xiao Jiu with backlight, slowly cut open a boiled egg, took one half, and arranged several circles of extremely thin sweet and sour red radish strips on it one by one. On the very top, she lightly placed a small piece of sauce-covered ham, then asked Xiao Jiu, what does this look like?
Six-year-old Yu Jiuqi said, it looks like a bird’s nest.
Wen Wen praised her for being smart, but under Xiao Jiu’s eager gaze, she ate that delicately prepared bird’s nest in one bite. Then she widened her eyes and nodded repeatedly, saying so this is what a bird’s nest tastes like, like a flock of birds chirping and dancing in your mouth. Baby, do you want to try?
That day Yu Jiuqi ate four bird’s nests in one go. From then on, every time she ate boiled eggs, she would pair them with small things she liked—pickles, ham, even honey and fruit, constantly developing novel flavor experiences. She gradually stopped being picky and even grew to love eating eggs.
Over time, Yu Kaixuan also learned to eat this way. This simple, crude food pairing method with no technical content became their family’s unique recipe because of Wen Wen’s whimsical attempt.
This was her first time eating the combination of pickled cucumber and salad dressing. Honestly, it wasn’t particularly amazing—it was 108,000 miles away from that childhood bird’s nest that could chirp and dance in her mouth. But Xiao Jiu still felt satisfied, felt happy, and at the same time even more guilty.
She lowered her head, trying hard to mobilize all her energy to resist that guilt, saying as naturally as possible: “The bank has been especially busy these past few days, and Dad’s place is busy too. It’s more convenient staying there, so I haven’t gone home. Mom, how have you been lately?”
Wen Wen poked at the salad with her fork, poking around without eating: “Which aspect are you referring to?”
“Your mood.” Yu Jiuqi had wanted to tease her about her love life. After all, after so long, they’d both digested that melodramatic relationship. “Your mood must be pretty good, right?”
“Sometimes good, sometimes bad.” She was still poking at the food. “Yesterday my mood was pretty good, but this morning I was very annoyed.”
Yu Jiuqi carefully chewed a piece of carrot, lowering her eyes and blinking. She suddenly realized she might not escape that interrogation, so she went along with it: “What happened?”
Wen Wen tilted her head looking at her, cat-like perceptive eyes rolling around her face: “Xiao Jiu, you know that person came back, right?”
“You mean Sun Xi?” Yu Jiuqi raised her eyes, calmly responding to Wen Wen. “I know. I even saw him.”
Wen Wen stopped pretending and stared at her interrogatively: “Where did you see him?”
“At that Western restaurant we used to go to when I was little. Ge Fan brought him to eat and we ran into them. My dad and I left early without finishing our meal. Last night after they fought, Brother Wu from the hotpot restaurant called me. I went to pick up Ge Fan and saw him too.” Xiao Jiu carefully chose her words to report cautiously, then added, “Oh right, also at that cold noodle restaurant by the train station. Xiao Fu was there that day too.”
“Just three times?”
“Yes, three times.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
“Really?”
“Mom, I’m not lying.”
Wen Wen locked onto Yu Jiuqi’s eyes, motionless. The bloodshot streaks at the bottom of her eyes were extremely conspicuous. If you looked carefully, those fine threads seemed to have a tendency to spread and grow, terrifying to behold.
Yu Jiuqi immediately surrendered, no longer daring to look at those eyes, randomly staring at her mother’s face: “Mom, I really didn’t lie to you. I haven’t had any private contact with him. Those past things are long over. Didn’t I promise you? I definitely won’t make mistakes again. I swear, Mom. I won’t.”
Xiao Jiu seemed about to cry at the end. Wen Wen slightly restrained her gaze: “Then why did he run away overnight?”
Yu Jiuqi heard her own voice, light and floating. Under the jazz music backdrop, it sounded ghostly and malicious: “That kind of scum who won’t even care whether his uncle’s family lives or dies—isn’t it good that he ran away?”
Wen Wen still seemed not to believe her. In the dim lighting of the lounge, she obsessively examined every subtle expression on Xiao Jiu’s face.
So Yu Jiuqi could only say that sentence: “Mom, if I did that, how could I face you, face Auntie and Grandma?”
Wen Wen’s eyes instantly became moist and red. She exhaled heavily, leaned her head back against the high chair back, thick hair spreading over the fluffy soft beach lamb fur coat. Two types of extremely lustrous hair complemented each other, making those completely reddened eyes look extremely seductive and also extremely fierce.
She stared fiercely at the chandelier overhead like this, kicked the table in a venting manner, pressed her lips tight, gritted her teeth, and squeezed out an unwilling profanity.
She said, fuck this shit.
Yu Jiuqi wasn’t frightened by this phrase. She seemed to have had her soul hollowed out, turned to look at the table. Some of their lemon water had spilled, dirtying the table surface. Xiao Jiu slowly pulled out tissues to wipe it.
When turning to throw away the trash, Yu Jiuqi saw Wen Wen crying, a tear flowing into her hair.
The central stage had changed to another song, a jazz version of a folk song very popular in Northeast China. The locals below, hearing something familiar, joined in interactively singing along. Upstairs and downstairs gradually became lively. In the entire lounge, probably only their table was quiet.
After that song ended, Wen Wen’s hand moved and rested on Xiao Jiu’s leg beside her, then suddenly held her daughter’s hand.
Finding Xiao Jiu’s hand ice cold, Wen Wen rubbed it in her palm, warmed it up somewhat, then pulled it and tucked it into her own chest. Then she suddenly turned her head and said something through tears.
She said: “Xiao Jiu, do you hate Mom?”
Yu Jiuqi tried to shake her head, not knowing if she succeeded.
Her tears flowed down again, tightly gripping Xiao Jiu’s hand: “If you hate me, can you hate me just a little bit this time?”
Yu Jiuqi raised her hand to wipe away her tears.
Wen Wen looked seriously at her daughter, tears continuing to patter down, her eyes full of sincere apology and self-blame, saying: “When I brought you back, I wanted to be a good mother. I really planned it that way.”
“But being a mother is so much harder than being a person.”
“What’s more, Mom can’t even be a good person.”