1
It’s said that once many women develop an intuition about something, they no longer believe facts—Zhu Xiaoyan was skeptical of this statement. She happened to be a woman who, in many situations, was more emotional than rational and somewhat superstitious about intuition.
Now her intuition told her that the absent-mindedness displayed by her boyfriend Gao Xiang, who was driving, should be related to the woman they’d run into outside Green Door Café about ten minutes ago.
She recalled that fleeting glance from earlier.
She and Gao Xiang had walked out of the café when that woman came toward them. She had shoulder-length hair, was of medium height with a slender figure, wearing a blue short-sleeved knit cardigan paired with faded jeans. Her makeup-free face was framed by dark brown sunglasses, and overall she looked quite ordinary. The only thing that caught Zhu Xiaoyan’s interest was the bag the woman carried over her shoulder—red canvas material with a silver zipper, adorned with a small silver charm. It looked like it could fit a small-sized laptop, yet was completely different from the stiff style of typical computer bags, appearing light and design-conscious. She liked it at first sight, though she didn’t go so far as to rudely ask a stranger about the brand.
Gao Xiang hastily said to her, “Wait for me a moment.”
He went over and exchanged just a few words with that woman. The woman took a notebook and pen from her bag, quickly wrote a line, tore it out and handed it to him. He paused for a while before reaching out to take it, didn’t look at it, gave the woman a slight nod, then came back and walked with Zhu Xiaoyan toward the parking lot. She asked, “Who was that?”
He opened the car door and got in, casually stuffing the note above the sun visor, started the car, and answered simply, “Someone I used to know.”
She didn’t pay much attention, turned on a CD to play music, and continued telling him about the petty argument she’d had with a colleague that afternoon. He had never been very talkative, but rarely was he like today, staring straight ahead with almost no response. She stopped talking with some disappointment, and only after she’d been silent for a long while did he snap back to attention, smiling apologetically. “Sorry, I was thinking about something.”
Zhu Xiaoyan tried hard to convince herself that being suspicious over a woman whose face she hadn’t even seen clearly was rather ridiculous. But once suspicion arose, it would only amplify on its own and was difficult to dissipate. All the way until they parked at the restaurant, Gao Xiang maintained his silence, and the inexplicable feeling of uncertainty in her heart grew heavier and heavier.
The two followed the hostess inside, when she suddenly stopped. “Oh, I left my phone in the car.”
“I’ll go get it for you.”
“Give me the car keys, I’ll get it myself. You go ahead and order.”
Zhu Xiaoyan took the car keys and returned to the parking lot. The car Gao Xiang drove was a very conspicuous black Jeep Commander, with bold body lines and a retro appearance bordering on ostentatious. It had three rows of seats with a high, spacious interior. This high-fuel-consumption full-size SUV neither fit Zhu Xiaoyan’s aesthetic nor her assessment of Gao Xiang’s character. Almost from the first moment she saw this car, she felt it was awkward. She couldn’t understand why a man who ran a wine agency business, drank very moderately, and was so low-key in his behavior as to be almost deliberately inconspicuous would act so strangely when it came to buying a car—spending over six hundred thousand yuan on such an environmentally unfriendly vehicle that was flashier than its actual price warranted.
She opened the car door, sat in the driver’s seat, reached up to feel inside the sun visor, and took out the note he’d stuffed in there. Unfolding it, she saw written in neat, almost childlike handwriting: Linjiang Hotel, Room 517, please make time to come over tonight without fail.
Her fingers began trembling uncontrollably. She sat there stunned for quite a while before getting out of the car and walking into the restaurant. The environment here was elegant with exquisite cuisine, always bustling with customers, requiring advance reservations for a table. But their dinner was extremely dreary. Gao Xiang was certainly lost in thought throughout, and she could no longer muster the interest to find topics of conversation.
Although she’d put the note back above the sun visor, its contents were printed in her mind word for word. What was that woman’s relationship with Gao Xiang? Was this a date invitation? Was Gao Xiang cheating? Or was that woman deliberately seducing him? Was she making a mountain out of a molehill? Her mind was filled to bursting with these questions, and everything she ate tasted like nothing.
She looked at Gao Xiang. He was an refined, slender man who, at thirty-eight, maintained an upright physique and the best bearing for a man of his age. His face seemed ordinary, but he naturally exuded an imposing air. To quote her best friend’s assessment, he possessed “great mature charm.”
He looked up, noticing her gaze, and asked, “What’s wrong?”
She forced a smile. “Nothing.”
Coming out of the restaurant, Gao Xiang suggested taking her home. Usually their dates didn’t end this way. She asked casually, “Do you have something else going on tonight?”
“Yes, I still have a small matter to take care of.”
Her heart sank, and she said nothing more. After returning home, she took a shower, changed into comfortable loungewear, lit a scented candle, selected a Lisa Ono CD to put in the stereo, and picked up Calvino’s “Invisible Cities,” planning to calm down and read properly. She had always been somewhat literary, enamored with these ritualistic steps, believing they could help her settle down. However, today all her preparations were wasted. Calvino’s intricate prose seemed more labyrinthine than ever, and as she crashed around in it, her mood simply couldn’t calm down. She threw down the book and paced back and forth like a caged beast. After exhausting herself, she finally changed clothes and went back out, hailing a taxi to Linjiang Hotel.
She told herself: just go take a look, prove that her so-called intuition was silly, then come back.
Linjiang Hotel was located on the riverside of Hanjiang, this riverside city. It was a gray building with nearly a hundred years of history. Despite multiple renovations, it still showed signs of decay, with hardware that couldn’t compare to other newly built five-star hotels in the city. However, because of its excellent location and the classical, weathered feeling accumulated over time, it still had quite a few guests.
Zhu Xiaoyan got out of the taxi and immediately spotted the Jeep Commander parked to the left of the hotel’s main entrance. Her heart instantly sank heavily to rock bottom.
Her boyfriend had received a note with a hotel room number from a woman and had come to the appointment—no matter how optimistic and generous she might be, she couldn’t remain indifferent. But what should she do next: go straight up and knock on the door to catch them in the act? Or wait for him to come out and catch him off guard? What kind of explanation would he give her?
She checked her watch. From when he’d dropped her off at home until now, just over two hours had passed—not very long. If something was happening, it might be in progress, or it might be completely finished. She had foolishly rushed over here, and even if it proved her intuition right, so what? Just thinking about having to demand an explanation from Gao Xiang filled her with humiliation and anger, mixed with a bit of fear she didn’t want to admit. She walked into the hotel almost without thinking.
The elevator stopped silently on the fifth floor. The hotel corridor was long and quiet, with large floor vases at the corners holding bunches of artificial peacock feathers and silk flowers. The lighting was soft, and the thick carpet made no sound underfoot. One dark wooden door after another was tightly closed. Standing in front of Room 517, Zhu Xiaoyan could almost hear her own heartbeat.
She felt somewhat ridiculous about her behavior at this point, but leaving without clarity meant going back to torture herself. She gritted her teeth and pressed the doorbell, then stared directly at the peephole, as if confronting an invisible opponent.
The door opened, and before her stood the very woman she’d seen in the parking lot during the day. She had changed into a white long-sleeved T-shirt and knit sweatpants—a very casual, comfortable outfit. Her makeup-free face wore black-framed glasses, looking clean and fresh, appearing no more than twenty-six or twenty-seven years old. She looked at Zhu Xiaoyan with some surprise. “Hello, may I ask who you are?”
It was no longer possible to turn and leave. But without even needing to step inside, she could see this was a not-very-large guest room, laid out clearly before her with bright lighting. A large bed was neatly made, the curtains half-open, without any trace of illicit affair. Gao Xiang sat fully dressed in a chair by the window, a flash of surprise crossing his face, but it quickly returned to expressionless.
Zhu Xiaoyan knew she’d messed up. Caught between advance and retreat, she involuntarily began to stammer. “I… I’m that, that Gao Xiang’s girlfriend, I…”
Gao Xiang stood up. “Still so impatient. Didn’t I tell you to wait for me downstairs? I was just about to come down.”
His voice was gentle, with a hint of reproach, which made it seem even more intimate and casual. Zhu Xiaoyan’s mouth fell open in surprise. She immediately realized he was giving her a way out of her stupid mistake, but her face still flushed red. She wished the ground would suddenly crack open and swallow her, or that time could briefly reverse so she wouldn’t have to face this scene.
That woman smiled slightly and stepped aside. “Please come in. My name is Zuo Si’an. Your boyfriend Gao Xiang and I… knew each other a long time ago. But I’ve been abroad, and haven’t returned to China for about twelve years. This time I came back and asked to meet him to catch up, and also had something I wanted to ask his help with. I’m sorry for taking up your time. Would you like tea or coffee?”
This considerate explanation made Zhu Xiaoyan even more at a loss for words. Gao Xiang stood up. “That won’t be necessary. It’s getting late. Xiaoyan, I’ll take you home.”
Zhu Xiaoyan couldn’t help but notice that Gao Xiang, usually so courteous, was being somewhat stiff. He had no intention of introducing them to each other. Zuo Si’an paused. “You’re leaving? That matter I just mentioned…”
Gao Xiang didn’t look at her, his whole posture leaving no room for discussion. “I’m giving you a clear answer now—I don’t agree.”
Her expression dimmed, but she said nothing.
Gao Xiang glanced at her once more. “Let’s go, Xiaoyan.”
After the two left the hotel, Zhu Xiaoyan apologized uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have come running over. I just…”
She stopped, trying hard to organize her words, but Gao Xiang shook his head and opened the car door for her. “It’s nothing. Get in.”
He remained silent the whole way, until he dropped her off at her building again, when he finally spoke. “Get some rest early.”
Shame, doubt, anger, grievance… all sorts of emotions churned together in her heart. Instead of feeling apologetic, she said angrily, “What is this? Are you going to punish me with the silent treatment, or are you showing that you don’t care about me at all from beginning to end?”
“Xiaoyan, I don’t blame you, but I really don’t have the mood to say anything more today.”
“What do you take me for? Am I your girlfriend, or a mistress who comes when called and leaves when dismissed, who should pretend to be generous and ask no questions about anything?”
Gao Xiang frowned. “What’s gotten into you? Insulting me is one thing, but why insult yourself?”
This casual attitude completely enraged her. She said word by word, “Your mother arranged for us to meet. You told me from the start you weren’t interested in marriage, that you weren’t a suitable marriage partner. I refused to break up anyway—I’m basically debasing myself by clinging to you. No wonder you look down on me.”
She got out of the car, slammed the door hard, and rushed into the apartment building. She pressed the elevator button, but Gao Xiang followed her in, held her with one arm, and pressed the floor button with the other hand. “Xiaoyan, stop making a scene.”
His voice was as gentle as always, with soothing power. After all, she was already twenty-eight years old. Even though he was ten years older than her, she couldn’t maintain face while acting coquettish and throwing a tantrum regardless of everything. When he put his arm around her, she only struggled symbolically once, then tears poured out uncontrollably, and her head leaned onto his shoulder.
Gao Xiang saw Zhu Xiaoyan to her door. Zhu Xiaoyan asked him, “Do you want to come in for coffee?”
He understood the retention in her gaze but still shook his head. “Another time. Get some rest early.”
2
Gao Xiang drove back to his own home located in a quiet area in the city center. The large duplex apartment had his mother Chen Zihui living on the first floor—she was already asleep. After going up to the second floor, he saw light still coming from his son Gao Fei’s bedroom. He knocked on the door with no response, pushed it open, and as he expected, Gao Fei was sitting in front of the computer wearing headphones, concentrating intently on playing a game.
Both amused and annoyed, he went over and removed the headphones. “Young man, what time is it? Have you finished your homework?”
Gao Fei was not yet sixteen, in ninth grade at the city’s key middle school, No. 1 Middle School. Obviously unafraid of being caught playing games by his father, he said with a cheeky grin, “It’s not even eleven o’clock yet. Didn’t you have a date today? How come you’re back so early?”
“That’s none of your business. Homework—”
“I finished my homework ages ago.”
Gao Xiang glared at him and reached out to exit the game and shut down the computer. “Sleep.”
Gao Fei grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t go, don’t go. Let’s have a heart-to-heart talk.”
Gao Xiang knew perfectly well that a kid this age actively seeking a heart-to-heart with his father absolutely couldn’t mean he really had troubles to confide. “Talk about what?”
“Are you planning to marry Aunt Zhu?”
“Your grandmother put you up to asking this, didn’t she?”
“I’m curious too.”
“Do you like Aunt Zhu?”
He tilted his head to think. “You only brought me to have dinner with her together last month, okay? I can’t say whether I like her or not. She seems fine, looks very amiable and considerate. Grandmother likes her too. If you must bring home a stepmother for me, of course it’s better to have one who’s kind and pleasant-looking.”
Gao Xiang couldn’t put on a stern father act in front of his lazy son, and besides, he cherished the uninhibited atmosphere cultivated between father and son over a long time. He casually pulled over a chair and sat down. “You also hope I’ll get married?”
“Originally I thought our family wasn’t lacking anything, and you seemed quite comfortable not getting married. But Grandmother really looks forward to you getting married, and also, I recently read in a magazine that being single isn’t good for men’s that… physical and mental health. You might as well just marry someone.”
Gao Xiang was startled, both crying and laughing. “What magazine are you reading? Nonsense.”
“It’s not just the magazine that says so. Teacher Chen who teaches our class physics, about the same age as you, never got married—his temper is so strange. The girls in our class all say he probably had his heart broken when he was young and was traumatized.” The more Gao Fei talked, the more amused he became. “They’re practically ready to write him an entire romance novel.”
“What a mess. You’re in ninth grade now, you should really focus on studying. Last time your homeroom teacher called me in…”
“Wasn’t it just getting caught bringing my phone to school? Making such a big deal out of it.”
“According to her, if you don’t work hard these last two semesters, it’ll be difficult to get into this school’s high school.”
“I’ve thought about it, I don’t plan to go to No. 1’s high school. I’m sick of wearing this school uniform.”
Gao Xiang looked at Gao Fei’s school uniform draped over the chair back—a baggy gray tracksuit top with blue stripes paired with navy pants. Like all middle school uniforms, it really wasn’t attractive. He couldn’t help laughing. “Insufficient reason. Rejected.”
“Besides the uniform, there are all those trivial and boring school rules. They treat us like criminals, managing us from head to toe, even regularly checking the length of our hair and nails—it’s really unbearable. Hey, why are you staring at me like that again? My hair meets the standard, okay?”
“No matter which school you attend, there will be school rules governing you. Some schools have even stricter requirements.”
Gao Fei slapped his thigh. “Your tone is exactly the same as our homeroom teacher’s. By the way, she visited your alma mater Qinggang Middle School last week and came back to warn us not to complain about anything. The students there arrive at school at six-thirty every morning, evening self-study goes until nine-thirty, they continue studying after returning to the dorms, no one sleeps before midnight, and they never have weekends. Wow, that’s really too extreme. You studied there for six years—how did you not get driven crazy?”
“Studying there didn’t drive me crazy, but listening to your nonsense might. How about reconsidering studying abroad for high school?”
Gao Fei immediately hesitated. “Where?”
“England, or Canada. You choose.”
“The weather in England is too gloomy, and Canada is supposedly very boring. I still think Hanjiang is best.”
Gao Xiang was both amused and exasperated. “Fine then. I hope you’ll have a decent score on the senior high school entrance exam.”
“Do you have the heart to send me that far away? I’m not afraid of living independently—I just don’t want to go abroad because I can’t bear to leave you and Grandmother.”
Gao Fei smiled roguishly, but the emotion in his words was genuine. With a heart full of concerns, Gao Xiang was touched again and had no heart to continue chatting idly with his son. He stood up and patted his shoulder. “We’ll talk about this later. Get into bed and sleep. No more games.”
Gao Xiang returned to his own room, changed into athletic clothes, and ran on the treadmill for sixty minutes—fifteen minutes longer than his usual exercise time. When he got off, he was already drenched in sweat. Breathing heavily, he realized he was indeed past the age when he could use intense exercise as a means to regulate his mood. He could only wait for his heart rate to slowly return to normal before going to shower. However, lying in bed, he still had no desire to sleep.
He compromised and got up, poured himself a glass of red wine, walked to the window and pushed it open. The late September breeze carried a hint of faint autumn coolness, refreshing and pleasant. But he hadn’t reached the stage of constant nostalgia. Of course, the past had never been forgotten, but once he really wanted to reminisce, he didn’t know which part to start with.
His gaze fell on a row of photos placed on the shelf by the window.
Gao Fei didn’t have a hundred-day photo like other children. The first photo where he opened his eyes and looked directly at the camera was taken at his first birthday by his grandparents at a photo studio. He had just been woken by the photographer and was quite unhappy, but he was born with a pair of eyes with slightly curved arcs, black and bright. Even with the most serious expression, they seemed to carry a hint of smile. Combined with the chubby cheeks particular to small children and petal-like lips, he was very adorable.
The photo nearest to Gao Xiang was taken over two months ago during summer vacation. Gao Fei was already not much shorter than him, mischievously climbing on his back, chin resting on his left shoulder, while raising his right hand to make a V sign above and behind Gao Xiang’s head. He was grinning broadly, showing a canine tooth on the right side—cheerful with a touch of playfulness, no different from any other teenage boy.
He stared fixedly at that smile of Gao Fei’s. From birth until now, this child had spent most of his time living with him. From his first birthday onward, his attentive grandmother had preserved Gao Fei’s entire growth record—a series of photos from babbling and toddling all the way to kindergarten, elementary school, and middle school remained. However, a baby so weak it made one worry, whose chin was always covered in drool, who could only express emotions through shrill crying, had grown imperceptibly under his watch into a handsome young man. This magic trick performed by time still left him somewhat surprised and somewhat wistful.
Early the next morning, Gao Xiang drove to Linjiang Hotel once again. He walked to Room 517, only to find the door open with a maid inside changing the bed sheets.
“Excuse me, has the guest staying here gone out?”
“The guest has already checked out and left.”
Gao Xiang hurried downstairs to the front desk to ask the staff. “When did Zuo Si’an in Room 517 check out?”
The girl flipped through the records. “This guest checked out and settled the bill about half an hour ago.”
“Did she mention where she was going?”
The front desk staff shook their head. “No.”
He hadn’t expected her to leave just like that, without leaving any contact information. For a moment, he was somewhat at a loss about what to do. At this point, a young bellhop nearby interjected, “Sir, when I was helping that young lady with her luggage, she heard my accent and asked if I was from Qinggang. She said she happened to be making a trip to Qinggang and asked me where to catch the long-distance bus.”
Gao Xiang quickly said, “Thank you.”
He hurried out, started his car, and drove toward Qinggang.
Qinggang was a county-level city about one hundred and fifty kilometers from the provincial capital Hanjiang City. Driving on the flat, straight highway, he felt an indescribable sense of anxiety.
Gao Xiang had traveled between Qinggang and the provincial capital Hanjiang City countless times, but the last time he’d driven on this road with such anxious feelings was exactly sixteen years ago. Long-settled past events surfaced in his mind, and his emotions became even more difficult to calm.