A rejection?
This didn’t surprise Tang Hong’en at all.
If Liu Fen hadn’t rejected him, she wouldn’t have been herself.
Through his interactions with Liu Fen, Tang Hong’en understood what kind of person she was.
“I understand. Let’s head back.”
It was too cold outside. Tang Hong’en felt his decision had been foolish, and he needed to correct this action immediately.
Liu Fen stood there, stunned and confused.
Was Mayor Tang really this amenable?
She had prepared many explanations and had many words ready, but it seemed they weren’t needed.
They retraced their steps back the same way they had come. When they’d left, it had still been light, but in this short time, darkness had settled in. The village had no streetlights; the only illumination for their path came from light seeping through the walls of other homes.
The light was dim and flickering; Liu Fen couldn’t make out Tang Hong’en’s expression.
Being rejected naturally would make someone unhappy, but she couldn’t detect any change in Tang Hong’en’s tone.
He even reminded her to watch her step. Liu Fen heard someone creaking their courtyard gate shut and suddenly realized belatedly that throughout their walk, the villagers must have been watching them. Perhaps everyone had been hiding by their doors to observe… She immediately felt regretful; the villagers would surely misunderstand Mayor Tang.
They had heard Mayor Tang’s words and would associate him with her, which wasn’t a good thing.
And with Tian Laosan being taken away by the police, would it damage Mayor Tang’s reputation?
Would the Tian family spread malicious gossip?
Liu Fen felt afraid thinking about it all. She shouldn’t have gone out with Tang Hong’en, and shouldn’t have let the villagers continue their misunderstandings. With these thoughts, Liu Fen tried to walk faster, but in the dim light, she nearly tripped over a stone.
Tang Hong’en steadied her:
“Why are you rushing? Watch where you’re going.”
Tang Hong’en’s hand held her elbow, and even through the thick padded coat, she felt as if she’d been scalded.
Since she had rejected him, she needed to maintain clear boundaries. Liu Fen pulled away.
Tang Hong’en didn’t insist, letting go once she was steady. They walked back one behind the other, and when Liu Fen reached her front door, she could hear the television from inside.
Little Wang and his people had finished installing and adjusting both televisions. Seeing Tang Hong’en return, Little Wang prepared to leave.
“Drive slowly, and if necessary, stay the night and leave tomorrow morning.”
“No problem, Leader!”
The leader spending New Year at the Liu family home had special meaning, and Little Wang now understood. No matter how shocking, why should the leader explain his actions to a mere driver? Spending a lively New Year with the Liu family was better than the leader being alone and lonely.
Comrade Little Wang felt he shouldn’t stay and get in the leader’s way.
During this delay, Liu Fen had already rushed into the main room. Grandmother Yu came out of the kitchen carrying a plate of steaming dumplings:
“Little Tang, you’re back? Come, let’s watch the Spring Festival Gala in the main room and eat dumplings. This is what New Year should be like!”
Tang Hong’en took the plate from Grandmother Yu: “You’re right, this is what New Year should be like.”
The room was filled with sounds from the television, children’s laughter, and Xia Xiaolan and Liu Yong chatting. It was so lively it felt like a dream. Tang Hong’en felt he had seen similar scenes in his dreams before—dreams reflect one’s inner desires, and this was the warmth of ordinary life he had been yearning for.
“Little Tang, don’t mind me being direct, but I can see Ah Fen rejected you.”
Grandmother Yu was perceptive, and Tang Hong’en didn’t deny it, frankly admitting: “She felt what I proposed wasn’t right, and rejected me quite decisively.”
Why wasn’t he dejected?
Even a male peacock, with all its splendid feathers, must display repeatedly to succeed in courtship. Tang Hong’en hadn’t expected to succeed on his first try.
He wanted a partner, not a puppet without self-awareness!
A hint of a smile appeared on Grandmother Yu’s serious face:
“Little Tang, you have good taste!”
Their conversation ended after just these few exchanges, and the atmosphere in the room wasn’t awkward. Everyone was watching the Spring Festival Gala.
The special effects and stage effects were still rudimentary, but they were a big improvement from last year’s gala, at least the venue had moved from the TV station to the Beijing Workers’ Stadium. The hosts’ clothes were different from last year too—the female host wore a suit dress, and the male host wore a dress shirt and suit… Xia Xiaolan was slightly disappointed; the female host’s suit dress wasn’t from “Luna’s” designs.
Had Chen Xiliang not succeeded?
The gala started well enough, but gradually things began to go wrong.
The program coordination completely broke down.
The on-site direction was chaotic; after the hosts finished their lines, the performers were slow to respond.
Tang Hong’en thought this year’s gala director would be in trouble. This was insufficient preparation—they probably thought holding the gala in the TV station studio was too modest, so they moved it to the Workers’ Stadium.
But the TV station lacked sufficient experience. The Workers’ Stadium could hold tens of thousands of spectators, and the venue was huge. With poor on-site direction, the show’s quality suffered.
Only Xia Xiaolan and Tang Hong’en had complaints.
The rest of the Liu family had never watched a Spring Festival Gala before—last year Liu Yong’s family hadn’t bought a TV yet. For them, this experience was novel, and they looked forward to all the programs. Even if there were longer waits between performances, that was acceptable.
…
Beijing.
The gala’s director-general looked unhappy. The scene was chaotic, backstage management was in disarray, and the live broadcast was not going as he had expected.
“Get the women’s volleyball team on stage, buy us some time.”
“Yes, Director Huang.”
“Is Hong Kong’s Wang Mingming ready?”
Wang Mingming was a popular Hong Kong star, originally from Shanghai, scheduled to sing three songs tonight. Her performance was supposed to be before midnight, but at this rate, it would have to be after the midnight bell.
Director Huang hoped the Hong Kong superstar could help salvage the show’s reputation—both the live audience and TV viewers were eagerly anticipating Wang Mingming’s appearance.
“I’ll go hurry them up.”
Without walkie-talkies, communication was very inconvenient. Everyone had to run back and forth on foot, and anyone could be recruited for tasks.
Backstage, the staff member found Wang Mingming touching up her makeup, her expression still relatively gentle.
“Sister Mingming, sorry for the trouble, please bear with us. Your program has been moved to after the midnight bell.”
Wang Mingming wore a grey sequined dress with fabric draping over one shoulder, which complemented her smoky makeup perfectly, though it made her look quite mature. Although she was born in ’47 and was already 38, having debuted in Hong Kong many years ago… the woman was still conscious of her age:
“Do I look old today?”
“Not at all, Sister Mingming looks beautiful today.”
Idiot, can’t even speak properly—if she didn’t look old, why keep calling her “sister”? Wang Mingming looked at herself in the mirror. The dress was nice, but were the shoulders too broad?
Women’s frames tend to get larger with age. Hearing that her program had been moved to after midnight, which meant over an hour’s wait, Wang Mingming beckoned to her manager:
“Where’s that persistent Chen fellow who wanted to provide performance outfits for me? I think I saw him backstage earlier. Find him… and make sure he brings those clothes!”