She dialed the number, and Manzhen walked away to the back to wander around. After Manzhen finished her call, she came back to see her out. She had originally intended to ask Manzhen to sit for a while until the rain subsided, but Manzhen said she had something to do. A relative had invited them to dinner today, and she had just called Mujin about it, asking him to come directly to the restaurant.
After she left, Manzhen returned to her room upstairs, listening to the intermittent patter of rain, which showed no sign of stopping. She thought to herself that if Mu Jin knew she was staying here, he would definitely come to see her in a couple of days. She was somewhat afraid to see him, because seeing him would remind her of her experiences over the past few years—that nightmarish period completely unrelated to her life of the past twenty years, and utterly unrelated to the person Mu Jin knew. She desperately needed to tell him all about these things; otherwise, it seemed like a terrifying world forever hidden deep within her heart.
As she thought this, memories flooded back, and she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep that night. It was a hot and rainy day, and she couldn't open the windows. Lying in bed, she fanned herself incessantly, only to break out in a sweat. It was almost ten o'clock when she suddenly heard the doorbell ring. The maid, half-asleep in the kitchen, asked in a muffled voice, "Who is it? -- Huh? -- Huh? Who are you looking for?" Manzhen suddenly had a flash of inspiration, guessing it must be Mu Jin. She hurriedly got out of bed, turned on the light, frantically dressed, and ran downstairs. Because it was night, the maid didn't dare let a stranger in easily. The man, wearing a raincoat, stood at the back door, wiping his face with a handkerchief, glistening water droplets running down his hair. The light shone directly on his face—it was Mu Jin.
He nodded and smiled at Manzhen, "I just got back. I heard you live here." Manzhen didn't know why, but as soon as she saw him, she felt a surge of bitterness welling up in her heart. Fortunately, she was standing with her back to the light, so no one could see the tears in her eyes.
She immediately turned away to lead the way upstairs, and thankfully, she always walked in front, so no one saw her face. Once inside the room, she rushed to cover the bed with a sheet, and while turning her back to make the bed, she finally managed to hold back her tears.
Mu Jin entered the room, looked around, and asked, "Why are you living here alone? Are the old lady and the others alright?" Manzhen could only vaguely reply, "They've moved to Suzhou now." Mu Jin seemed quite surprised. Manzhen could have used this opportunity to bring up the things she had planned to tell him. Seeing Mu Jin's enthusiasm—coming to see her in the rain that very night upon hearing she was staying there—it was clear his friendship with her remained unwavering. This strengthened her resolve to tell him everything. However, there were certain things she found difficult to say, yet she could confide in a complete stranger. Last time in the hospital, when she told Jin Fang about her background, she didn't feel this embarrassed to speak to Mu Jin.
She then changed the subject, laughing, "What a coincidence, I just ran into your wife."
"When did you arrive in Shanghai?" Mu Jin replied, "We haven't been here long. She needs surgery, and the hospitals where we live don't have the proper equipment, so we came to Shanghai." Manzhen didn't ask further why his wife needed surgery, assuming it was due to childbirth and that she probably knew beforehand that she would have a difficult delivery. Mu Jin added, "She'll be moving to the hospital tomorrow; this is her mother's house right now."
He sat down, his raincoat still soaking wet. Of course, he didn't intend to stay long, as it was getting late. Manzhen poured him a glass of water and placed it in front of him, smiling, "You had a business dinner today, right?" Mu Jin smiled and said, "Yes, we ate at Jinjiang Restaurant. It just ended, and they went home, so I came straight here."
Mu Jin had probably drunk a little wine; his face was flushed. Even wearing a raincoat indoors, he felt particularly stuffy, so he picked up a newspaper from the table and used it as a fan. Manzhen handed him a palm-leaf fan and opened the window halfway. As soon as she opened the window, she saw a row of dark houses across the way, almost all their lights off. Mu Jin's in-laws must have already gone to sleep. If Mu Jin lingered too long, although his wife wouldn't mind, her family might gossip. Manzhen thought that since they would see each other again eventually, she would tell him what she wanted to say another day. But ever since Mu Jin stepped into her room, he felt something was strange. Why was Manzhen all alone now? Her family had moved inland, perhaps to save money. And where was Shen Shijun? Why weren't they married yet?
Mu Jin couldn't help but ask, "Do you still see Shen Shijun often?" Manzhen smiled and said, "It's been a long time. He went home several years ago; his home is in Nanjing." She added, "I heard he got married later." Mu Jin was speechless.
In their silence, a sudden rustling sound was heard; raindrops were slanting in and hitting the books on the table, soaking them completely. Mu Jin smiled and said, "You still can't open this window." He replied, "Let it be, it's dusty here, it'll just dirty your handkerchief." But Mu Jin still carefully wiped the books dry one by one, because he remembered how, when he lived at Manzhen's house, he couldn't sleep at night because of the radio noise from next door, and how she lent him books to read. —If it weren't for Shen Shijun back then, their situation might be very different now, right?
He was eager to break his train of thought and immediately began to speak, recounting his recent situation. He said that although he was a native of Lu'an, the local officials and gentry always considered his actions somewhat suspicious. Running a hospital in such a small place meant there was no way to make money, leading them to suspect he must have some ulterior motive. He said, "Actually, I'm a very simple-minded person. I know my abilities are limited, and I just want to do something beneficial within a very small scope. But if I say this, no one will believe me. So I rarely interact with these people. When Rongzhen first arrived, she wasn't used to this lonely life and felt bored. Later, she learned nursing and helped out at the hospital. Having something to do made her less lonely." Rongzhen must be his wife's name. Manzhen then asked about the situation at their hospital. Mu Jin said that the local soldiers often harassed them and caused trouble, constantly demanding injections. Manzhen asked, "What kind of injections do they want?" Mu Jin paused, then smiled bitterly, "The 606 injections. —So, with such a government, there's such an army."
As he spoke, he couldn't help but sigh, and added, "I'm the least interested in politics, but when politics isn't clear, it's impossible to concentrate on my work."
He felt they had talked for too long, and suddenly stood up, laughing, "I'm leaving!" Manzhen, seeing it was getting late, didn't try to stop him. She saw him downstairs, and on the stairs, Mu Jin suddenly remembered something and asked, "Last time I was here, I think I heard your sister was sick. Is she better now?" Manzhen whispered, "She died. It happened not long ago." Mu Jin asked blankly, "That time I heard she had intestinal tuberculosis, is that what it is?" Manzhen said, "Oh, that time—that time it wasn't that serious." That time, her sister pretended to be on her deathbed, setting a trap to frame her. Manzhen paused, then continued laughing, "I didn't even go when she died—a lot has happened in the last two years, I'll tell you when you have time." Mu Jin stopped and looked at her, as if eager to hear her story, but seeing the sudden weariness on her face, he said nothing and turned to go downstairs. She saw him all the way to the back door.
She went back upstairs. The only sofa in her room, where Mu Jin had just been sitting, had several wet stains on it—water from his raincoat. Manzhen stared at the stains for a while, a strange melancholy welling up inside her.
The rain started suddenly today, and Mu Jin probably didn't bring a raincoat when he went out. His wife must have brought it to the restaurant for him. They clearly have a very good relationship, which can be seen from the tone of Mu Jin's voice.
And what about Shijun? Is his married life just as blissful? She hadn't thought of him for a long time. She thought her pain had dulled long ago. But that pain seemed to be the only living thing in her body, always fresh and intense, never giving her a moment's rest once it flared up.
She poured Mu Jin's cup of tea into the spittoon and poured herself another cup. Somehow, boiling water from the thermos guzzled out and spilled all over her feet. She was numb and didn't really feel it; it felt like she'd been hit on the instep with a hammer, but it didn't hurt much.
The rain continued until dawn that night, and Manzhen didn't fall asleep until then. She had only been asleep for a short while when someone suddenly woke her up. It seemed like she was still in the hospital; as soon as it was light, the nurse brought the baby to her for breastfeeding. Still half-asleep, she held the baby, her heart filled with mixed emotions of sorrow and joy, as if the child had been found again after being lost.
But then she suddenly realized the child was ice-cold—he'd died sometime earlier, his body already stiff. She hugged him tighter, burying his face against her chest, afraid people would discover he was dead. But they had already found out. The burly Zhou Ma came over, snatched him away, rolled him in a reed mat, and carried him off. The dead child struggled inside the mat, crying out, "Auntie!"
"Auntie!" The child shouted louder and louder. Manzhen woke up in a cold sweat. Outside the window, the morning light was already white.
Manzhen found her dream very strange. She didn't know that it was because she was thinking about the past, thinking about Shijun, and felt empty and sad inside, so she longed for her child even more, and pieced together some fragmented impressions into such a dream.
Unable to sleep any longer, she got up. She had been early for everything today; by the time she stepped out the door it was not yet seven o'clock, two hours before her workday. As she walked slowly down the street, she suddenly decided to go see her child.
Actually, rather than a "decision," it's more accurate to say that she suddenly realized she'd always had this idea. So, coming out so early was probably for that reason.
They were almost at Da'an Lane. In the distance, she saw a group of people emerging from the alleyway: two porters carrying a small coffin, followed by a maid—wasn't that Zhou Ma?! Suddenly, Manzhen's vision went black; she leaned against the wall, her legs unable to support her weight. She tried her best to calm herself and looked again. Zhou Ma held a large banana leaf fan in one hand, shielding her head from the sun, her mouth moving as if she had just eaten breakfast, sucking on her teeth. This image appeared exceptionally clear to Manzhen, yet she felt a little confused. She felt like she had entered another nightmare.
The coffin passed by her. She wanted to go up and ask Zhou Ma who the deceased was, but Zhou Ma didn't recognize her. In that moment of hesitation, they had already gone far away. Suddenly, she turned and walked into Da'an Lane without hesitation. She remembered that the Zhu family was the fourth house after entering. She went straight to ring the bell, and a maid opened the door. This maid was an old acquaintance, surnamed Zhang. When Zhang Ma saw it was Manzhen, she was momentarily stunned and called out, "Second Miss." Manzhen didn't say much to her, only asking, "How is the child?" She felt grounded, but like an elevator descending too quickly, she felt a wave of dizziness. She stood for a moment, leaning against the doorframe, then strode straight inside, saying, "Where is he? I'll go see him." Zhang Ma assumed Manzhen must have heard from elsewhere that the child was sick and had come to check on him, so she led the way. It was a two-story shikumen house; they entered through the back door, passed through the kitchen, and arrived at the main hall. The front row of doors to the main hall were nailed shut, and the room was dark. A large bed stood at the back, and the child was sleeping on it. Manzhen saw that his face was flushed, and he seemed half-asleep. She reached out and touched his forehead; it was burning hot. Zhang Ma had said he was "feeling better today," which was just their usual polite greeting. Manzhen asked in a low voice, "Has a doctor been seen?" Zhang Ma replied, "Yes, he has. The doctor said it was his sister who had it, and told the two of them not to be in the same room." Manzhen said, "Oh, it's an infectious disease. Do you know what it is?" Zhang Ma said, "It's called scarlet fever. Zhao Di looked really pitiful later—she died last night."
Manzhen then realized that what she had just seen was Zhaodi's coffin.
She looked closely at the child's face, but there were no red spots. However, she'd heard that scarlet fever sometimes didn't cause red spots on the skin. He tossed and turned in bed, changing positions every minute, unable to find a comfortable position. Manzhen held his hand; his hand was dry and hot, making her own hand feel even colder.
When Zhang Ma brought in tea, Manzhen asked, "Do you know if the doctor is coming today?"
Zhang Ma said, "I didn't hear anything. Master went out early this morning." Manzhen gritted her teeth upon hearing this. She truly hated Hongcai; he clung to the child, refusing to let go, yet failed to properly care for him. She couldn't let her child suffer the same fate as Zhaodi, losing her life in a muddle. She suddenly stood up and walked out, only hurriedly telling Zhang Ma, "I'll be back in a bit." She decided to fetch Mu Jin to have him examine the child and determine if it was scarlet fever. She had some doubts about the reliability of the doctor the Zhu family had hired.
At this time, Mu Jin probably hadn't left yet; it was still early. She hopped on a rickshaw and hurried back to her apartment. Reaching the house diagonally across the street, she rang the bell, and Mu Jin already saw her on the balcony. She was at the door asking the maid, "Is Dr. Zhang home?" Mu Jin came out, smiling, and invited her in. Manzhen forced a smile and said, "I won't go in. Do you need anything?" Seeing her expression, Mu Jin asked, "What's wrong? Are you sick?" Manzhen replied, "It's not that I'm sick, but my sister's child is very ill, probably scarlet fever. I wanted to ask you to take a look."
Mu Jin said, "Okay, I'll go right away." He went inside, put on a jacket, grabbed his briefcase, and came out with Manzhen. The two of them took a rickshaw to Da'an Lane.
Mu Jin had heard that Manlu had married very well; her grandmother had told him how wealthy she had become and built a house on Hongqiao Road. He was quite surprised to see her family living in such a cramped house. He thought he would see Manlu's husband, but the homeowner didn't appear; only a maid served as a greeter. As soon as Mu Jin entered the living room, he saw Manlu's remains, framed and hanging prominently. Manzhen hadn't seen him. Both times she came here, she was flustered and preoccupied with her child.
The large photograph was probably taken two years before Manlu's death. Her eyes were slanted sideways, one hand supporting her chin, and on that hand was a dazzling diamond ring. Seeing her incongruous allure and aged appearance, Mu Jin felt a pang of sorrow. He couldn't help but recall their last meeting. Perhaps he had been too cold to her then, a feeling that had lingered in his heart ever since.
It was her child, so of course he was very concerned. He diagnosed it as scarlet fever. Manzhen asked, "Should we go to the hospital?" Doctors usually advocate for hospitalization, but seeing the Zhu family's financial situation, Mu Jin felt compelled to help them. He said, "Hospitals are quite expensive these days. With proper care at home, it's just as good." Manzhen had initially thought that going to the hospital would be more convenient for her to care for the child, but she couldn't afford it herself, nor could she expect Hongcai to provide it. It was better not to go to the hospital. She asked Zhang Ma to find the doctor's prescription for Mu Jin, who agreed that the prescription was appropriate.
When Mu Jin left, Manzhen saw him off all the way out, then picked up some medicine at a pharmacy at the alley entrance and brought it back. She also made a phone call from the pharmacy to her workplace, asking for half a day off. The boy was more awake by now, just staring intently at her. As soon as she turned her back, he quietly asked, "Aunt Zhang, who is this?"
Zhang Ma paused for a moment, then smiled and said, "Oh, this is—it's Second Aunt." As she spoke, she glanced at Manzhen, as if unsure how Manzhen wanted her to answer. Manzhen just kept shaking the medicine bottle. After shaking it for a while, she took a spoon and came over to coax the child to take the medicine, saying, "Eat it quickly, you'll feel better after you take it." Then she asked Zhang Ma, "What's his name?" Zhang Ma replied, "His name is Rongbao." This child is pitiful. When Madam was alive, she doted on him. Now it's Zhou Ma who's taking care of him. She glanced around before speaking furtively, "Zhou Ma is heartless. Although Master loves the children, he's still a man and there are many things he doesn't think of—that dead Zhao Di was often beaten by her. Although she doesn't dare openly bully Bao Bao, he suffers a lot at her hands. Second Miss, don't tell anyone else, or I'll lose my job. Bao Bao was kicked out because he had a falling out with her. Bao Bao isn't good either; Madam died and many things were mishandled in her hands, while Zhou Ma didn't get any. So she's resentful and speaks ill of him to Master."
Zhang Ma recounted all the gossip and strife in their family to Manzhen, clearly assuming that Manzhen's visit to the Zhu family was simply a prelude to reconciling with Hongcai and that she would now be the mistress of the house. She suggested that since Zhou Ma was out and hadn't returned yet, she should quickly report Manzhen to the authorities. Manzhen felt extremely uncomfortable with Zhang Ma's perspective. She really didn't want to get involved in the Zhu family's affairs, but she couldn't immediately express her opinion.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the back door. She wondered if it was Hongcai returning. Although Manzhen wasn't entirely unprepared, she couldn't help feeling uneasy; after all, this was his home. Zhang Ma went to open the door and heard two people chattering in the kitchen before entering the room one after the other. It was Zhou Ma, who had taken Zhaodi's coffin to the cemetery and was now back. Although Zhou Ma had never met Manzhen, she had probably heard of her and knew that Rongbao wasn't their mistress's biological child. Now that Manzhen had suddenly appeared, Zhou Ma was extremely cautious, calling her "Second Miss" repeatedly and fawning over her. Her face, though full of murderous intent, was plastered with a forced smile, which was somewhat chilling. Manzhen remained indifferent to her, thinking that she couldn't afford to offend her; she could still vent her anger on the child. Zhou Ma felt guilty and was afraid that Zhang Ma would expose her crimes to Manzhen. She had always bullied that slovenly old woman, but now she treated her with the respect due to an elder, urging her to call her "Grandma Zhang" and pulling her into the kitchen to discuss what dishes to add to entertain the second young lady.
Manzhen, however, reminded herself that she should leave. She should give Zhang Ma a few important instructions and then go, preferring to come back in the afternoon. Just then, Rongbao spoke, asking, "Where's sister?" This was the first time he had spoken directly to Manzhen, and his words left her speechless. After a moment, Manzhen whispered, "Sister is asleep. Don't bother her."
The thought of Zhao Di's death sent a chill down her spine, and a primal fear made her vow to herself: "If he recovers, I will never leave him for all eternity." There was a hole in the mat, and he would always frantically try to dig at it with his hands, making it grow bigger and bigger.
Manzhen held both of his hands and whispered, "Don't do this." As she spoke, a pair of tears fell onto the mat with a "plop."
Suddenly, she heard Hongcai's voice at the back door. As soon as he entered, he asked, "Has the doctor come?" Zhang Ma replied, "No. The Second Miss is here." Upon hearing this, Hongcai fell silent. After a long silence, Manzhen knew that he had been standing at the entrance of the guest hall for quite some time. She sat there motionless, but her expression became somewhat stern.
She didn't look at him, but he finally staggered into her line of sight. He looked disheveled, as if he hadn't washed his face or shaved, his thin face greasy with a yellowish-black sheen. He wore an old, yellowish-white silk robe and an old, yellowish-white straw hat, which he kept on his head. He walked to the bedside and touched Rongbao's forehead, murmuring, "Are you feeling any better today? Why hasn't the doctor come yet?" Manzhen remained silent. Hongcai coughed and said, "Second Sister, I'm relieved to see you here. I was really worried. I don't know what's wrong with me these past two years; all sorts of bad luck have befallen me. When Zhaodi got sick, I didn't take it seriously. By the time I realized it was serious, I rushed to give her injections, spending a lot of money, but it was already too late. This child is someone I can raise, so we can't delay any longer. This morning, I spent the whole morning trying to raise some money." He sighed and added, "I never imagined things would turn out like this!"
In truth, half of his speculative failure stemmed from his superstitious belief in the "husband-supporting luck" belief. Although he never admitted that his success was due to Manlu's influence, deep down he always held a degree of faith in that saying. Coincidentally, around the time of Manlu's death, two things went wrong in succession, and he became somewhat afraid. Speculation is inherently a gamble, and the more afraid you are, the more you're bound to lose, ultimately leading to his utter defeat. This further solidified his belief in the "husband-supporting luck" belief.
Zhou Ma wrung out a hot towel and brought it over to wipe Hongcai's face. He took it absentmindedly, only using it to wipe his hands, wiping them again and again. Zhou Ma then walked away.
After a long pause, he suddenly blurted out, "Now that I think about it, I really feel sorry for her." He turned his back to look at Manlu's photo, then pressed the towel to his face and blew his nose. He was clearly crying.
Sunlight shone directly on Manlu's portrait, reflecting a white light off the glass frame, obscuring the photograph underneath and revealing only a layer of dust on the glass.
Manzhen stared blankly at the photo. Her sister was dead, and she herself had been disheartened for the past few years. All the entanglements and grudges of the past seemed to have turned to dust.