Cuizhi initially refused, but Shuhui insisted they go. Later, they agreed that they would go out with Shuhui the next day to have a great time, since Shijun had a day off the next day.
Shu Hui glanced at his watch and said, "You're going out to eat, shouldn't you start making some preparations?"
Shijun said, "No rush, it's still early." So they chatted for a while longer. Old friends who hadn't seen each other for years, upon meeting again, felt a strange mix of familiarity and awkwardness; their conversation was neither too deep nor too shallow, both still groping in the dark. It was a peculiar feeling, yet no less joyful. As the three sat talking, Shuhui suddenly thought of Manzhen. It seemed they were always together—himself, Shijun, and another woman. He wondered if Shijun felt the same way.
Shu Hui took out a notebook from his pocket and flipped through it. His friends' addresses were all written in it, and a new line had been added at the end: Manzhen's current address. Just now, his mother had told him that Manzhen had come to their house once after the liberation and asked him if he had returned.
She left an address. He planned to go to her place now, wondering what Manzhen's situation was. If she was still working outside, she should be back by now. He could ask her out for dinner and talk for a while.
After leaving the Shen family's house, he went to find Manzhen. She lived in a quiet place amidst the hustle and bustle, quite unlike Shanghai. A narrow alley paved with cobblestones led to a row of shikumen houses, ending at a wooden gate leading to a large courtyard. It was evening, and a maid was scrubbing the toilet in the courtyard, the scrubbing going "swish, swish." Right next to the drain, several potted plants, some oleanders and some evergreens, were placed at varying heights.
There were always more than one household here, and a plump woman who looked like a housewife was washing clothes in the yard. She had set up a table against the wall and was lathering herself with soap on it. Shu Hui smiled and asked, "Excuse me, does Miss Gu live here?" The woman looked up at him and then said to the maid, "Miss Gu hasn't returned yet, has she? I saw her door is still locked." Shu Hui hesitated for a moment, then smiled and said, "When she returns, please tell her I'm coming. I found the address of another friend of hers and plan to go see him." He walked out along the alley. He hadn't noticed it when he came in, but there was a blackboard on the wall, densely packed with news summaries written in white chalk interspersed with pink chalk. The handwriting looked familiar. It must be Manzhen's; they had been colleagues for years, and he recognized her handwriting. Shu Hui stood in front of the blackboard and couldn't help but smile. He felt as if he had already seen her. He was glad that she seemed so proactive now.
Manzhen came home late today because she went to see the cultural troupe's performance. Rongbao had joined the troupe. For years, they had relied on each other, so Manzhen had struggled with this decision. After liberation, she worked and studied very hard, but Rongbao seemed to be one step ahead of her. That day, after seeing their performance, she felt very excited. Returning home, she was both tired and excited. The wooden gate outside wasn't latched, and she pushed it open with a thud, walked through the courtyard, and was about to go upstairs when Mrs. Qu, who lived downstairs, heard her return and came out to tell her that someone surnamed Xu had come looking for her, describing him. Manzhen immediately recognized him as Shuhui and said, "I'll go make a phone call to him," and went out again. She went to a tailor shop at the alley entrance to borrow a phone. She called Shuhui's house, and Shuhui's father came to pick her up. Manzhen smiled and said, "Shuhui's back, right? He just came to my place, but I wasn't home." Yufang said, "Yes, he just arrived today. He's not staying at home; he's staying with Shen Shijun. Their phone number is 72075." Just then, his wife, who happened to be nearby, scolded him for being too impulsive. She quickly tugged at him, frowning, and whispered, "Hey, don't let her make that call." I don't remember her being very close to Shijun before. Manzhen only heard a woman's voice and Yufang chattering on the phone, then she heard him responding with "oh, oh, oh," before he called out loudly into the phone, "Or, what's Miss Gu's phone number? I'll have Shuhui call you." Manzhen paused slightly, feeling there was no need for so much formality, and laughed, "I'll call him myself. I'm using the neighbor's phone here; it's inconvenient for them to come and call if someone calls."
She hung up the phone and dialed Shijun's number. A few years ago, this would have been unimaginable, but her mindset was clear now, vastly different from before. Since the divorce, she seemed to have gradually become mentally healthier. Now, when she thought of Shijun, she felt that time had faded everything, leaving only a touch of melancholy. But as she dialed the number, her heart pounded. Actually, she didn't need to feel this way; even if Shijun himself listened, it wouldn't matter.
The call went through, but someone else answered. It was Cuizhi talking at length with one of her friends. Cuizhi was preparing for a banquet when her friend called, and Cuizhi asked her if she was going to the banquet hosted by the Yuan family. They then started talking about the Yuan family, and everyone knew that Mr. Yuan was unfaithful to his wife.
Cuizhi was talking into the receiver when Shijun rushed in, looking very anxious, and said, "There isn't a single clean shirt! And Li Ma is nowhere to be found! Do you know where my shirt is?" He ignored her. Just then, they were talking about another friend, and Cuizhi said somewhat sullenly, "I never said that!"
"They're poor, everyone knows that, why would I need to tell them? All their children are in school for free." —Oh? You didn't know?" She laughed happily, about to recount the details again, when Shijun said from the side, "It's getting late, we can stop now. Can't we talk about it another day? Don't confuse me." Turning to Shijun, she said, "She asked you about the dinner you promised to treat us to, but I didn't hear anything about it." She then laughed into the phone, "Do you want to tell him yourself?" Shijun was really afraid of getting entangled with that woman, so he quickly waved to Cuizhi and hurriedly went out, returning to his room upstairs to find a newer pair of leather shoes to change into.
After finishing her phone call, Cuizhi came upstairs. Shijun said, "I can't find any of my shirts. I wonder where Aunt Li has gone." Cuizhi said, "I told her to go buy cigarettes. Don't bother changing your shirts; she washed them, but hasn't ironed them yet." Shijun said, "Why haven't you ironed any of them?" Cuizhi said, "She needs to be able to manage! She's so old." Shijun said, "I just don't understand why we always employ old, weak, and disabled people; there's not a single person who can do anything." Cuizhi said, "It's not that we don't have capable people. Mrs. Yuan said last time she recommended someone to me, saying she's both capable and efficient. With our wages here, and no extra income, how can we support her?"
She always used the same excuse, saying that it all came down to not having enough money. Shijun then fell silent. There were many things about Cuizhi that, if he really took her seriously, would inevitably lead to endless arguments. He always felt that things had come to this point, and arguing all day long wouldn't help, nor would it necessarily make him feel any better.
The phone rang suddenly downstairs. Cuizhi, who was changing clothes, said, "Go answer it." Shijun ran downstairs, picked up the receiver, and said, "Hello?" After resting for a moment, he heard a woman's voice, smiling, say, "Hello, is Shuhui home?"
Shijun said, "He's gone out. Who are you?" The woman laughed, "You can't even recognize my voice?" Shijun was suddenly startled, and laughed somewhat absentmindedly, "Oh, it's you! I didn't recognize you for a moment. You—you're in Shanghai? Okay? When did you come from Nanjing?" Shijun said, "I've been here for many years. Oh dear, how many years has it been since we last met? More than ten years, right?" On the phone, there's no pausing; even a slight pause seems particularly noticeable. Manzhen quickly continued, "Shuhui just came to my place, but I wasn't home. When he gets back, have him call me, 28509." Shijun said, "Wait a minute, let me write it down. —2—8—5—0—9—I'll come see you with Shuhui tomorrow." Manzhen laughed, "Okay, come whenever you have time."
She hung up the phone. A long while later, she heard a very faint "ding"! The call ended then. She was already standing there in a daze, and this only made her stand there even more blankly. The scene of people bustling about in the tailor shop, two rows of tailors sitting inside, heads down sewing under the dim light bulbs, all seemed like a dream.
Shi Jun was perhaps even more shocked than she was, because he never expected her to call. He sat there blankly by the phone when he suddenly heard Cui Zhi calling from the stairs, "Hey, why are you sitting here? Hurry up, we're already late!" Shi Jun stood up and said, "It'll only take me three minutes."
Sure enough, a few minutes later, he was dressed neatly, while Cuizhi was still sitting in front of the dressing table combing her hair. Shijun walked over and said, "Look, I'll wait for you." Cuizhi said, "I'll be done soon. Go and tell Li Ma to call the car." She was so busy getting ready that she didn't think to ask him who had called earlier.
After a while, Shijun called from downstairs, "The car's here. Aren't you ready yet?" Cuizhi replied from upstairs, "Don't rush me, it's making me anxious. I'll be ready soon!" After another while, she suddenly called out, "Have you seen my black leather bag? -- It's probably in the closet. You have the key to the closet, right?" Shijun said, "It's not with me." Cuizhi said, "I remember you took it! It must be in one of your pockets." After searching all the pockets, Cuizhi suddenly called out again, "Oh, I found it!" After finding the key, she opened the closet door, took out the leather bag, and then moved the items from her everyday leather bag into the black leather bag. If there wasn't enough room, she had to pick out a few less important items, all of which took quite a while.
She finally came downstairs, calling out as she went, "Li Ma! When Mr. Xu arrives, if we're not back yet, please prepare some tea for him. Keep an eye on Da Bei and Er Bei, make sure they're asleep and don't disturb the guests. Oh! The can of cigarettes you bought is in Mr. Xu's room, in the study." As she walked out the door, she turned back and added, "Don't forget to open the can." She got onto the tricycle. Then she called out again, "Li Ma, don't forget to feed the dogs, okay!"
The two sat side by side on the tricycle. Just as they finished covering themselves with the blanket, Cuizhi said to Shijun, "Hey, could you run me a errand? There's a pink mirror in the second drawer of the dressing table. Not the big one—I want the one with the suede case." Shijun didn't say anything, simply jumped off the tricycle, walked through the garden, went into the house, went upstairs, opened the drawer, retrieved the pink mirror, and handed it to Cuizhi. She took it and put it in her purse, saying, "Otherwise, I wouldn't have forgotten. I was just urging you to bring it up."
When they arrived at the Yuan family home, all the guests were already there. The host, Yuan Sihua, and the hostess, Pingni Yuan, greeted them with handshakes. Pingni was the "first lady" among their acquaintances, a woman of both beauty and talent. She was tall and slender, with delicate eyebrows, narrow eyes, and a fair, rosy oval face. Her voice was very high-pitched; for some reason, she spoke English in an even higher pitch, like a theatrical performer using a falsetto. She greeted Shijun with a sweet, melodious laugh: "Long time no see! How have you been? Do you enjoy playing Bridgmans?" Shijun laughed, "I'm not very good at it." Pingni laughed, "You must be being polite. But playing Bridgmans really does require some brainpower—" She chuckled, then added, "Some people just can't play it well." She had always thought Shijun was somewhat dim-witted. He and she never spoke much to each other. He was a good person, but he was mediocre, had no special characteristics, and was not very promising. Not only did he not know how to make money, he even used up all the money that Cuizhi had given him as dowry. She felt very sorry for Cuizhi.
Later in the conversation, Pingni laughed and said, "Cuizhi is so lucky. Shijun has such a good temper, is honest, and doesn't go out much." She gestured towards that direction and laughed, "Like our Sihua, who has so many women in his life. He's always out socializing, so he's exposed to so many temptations. Don't tell me it's better that he doesn't go out often!" Her tone seemed to carry a hint of disdain for husbands like Shijun who followed the rules. It was common knowledge that her own husband was a womanizer, and Pingni felt that this was where she couldn't compare to Cuizhi. But she was a very strong-willed person; even if she was inferior in one aspect, she refused to admit defeat and wanted to utterly discredit the other person.
There weren't many guests today, just one table. Pingni had a child eating with them, along with the child's nanny. It's become a common practice among wealthy families to have a nanny, or even a caregiver, for a child to have a child. It's as if you're not qualified otherwise. The Yuan family's nanny was a caregiver by training; everyone called her Miss Yang, but she was probably quite old and unattractive. I wonder where Pingni found her. If she weren't someone like that, she wouldn't have lasted long in their household—their lecherous husband...
After dinner, Si Hua immediately turned on the radio as soon as he returned to the living room. Ping Ni glared at him and said, "Can't you just take a day off and not listen? There are so many guests here today." She turned back to everyone and smiled, "Si Hua has been completely engrossed in listening to Yang Naiwu these past two days!" Everyone then started talking about Yang Naiwu and the cruel torture he endured in court.
Miss Yang then said, “Oh dear, I still shudder at the thought of torture! Our hospital director was arrested by the Kuomintang, falsely accused of being a traitor. They came to the hospital and searched it like bandits, forcing his wife to hand over money. They hung her up and beat her, burned her heels, and forced water down her throat. They also—they also—” She lowered her voice, recounting two particularly inhumane forms of torture, making everyone feel nauseous and restless in their chairs. Miss Yang groaned, “Oh dear, the sound of her screams!—This happened during the War of Resistance. I was so scared I couldn’t stay there any longer and fled to Shanghai. That Mrs. Zhang suffered severe internal injuries—I later heard from people from Lu’an that she died not long after.” Shi Jun, upon hearing the words “Lu’an,” paused, then said, “Oh, you mean—is that Zhang Mujin’s wife?”
"His wife is dead?" Miss Yang stared at him in astonishment and said, "Yes. Do you know Dr. Zhang?" Shijun only said briefly, "I have." His mind was in turmoil. If Manzhen hadn't called earlier, he would have really thought it was Manzhen. Even so, he still had a bizarre feeling, as if it was her ghost calling. Didn't her sister clearly tell him back then that Manzhen and Mujin were married?
Why would her sister tell such a lie? Was she afraid he wouldn't give up and would keep entangled with her? Manzhen should know he wasn't that kind of person. He just couldn't understand why she had avoided seeing him back then—why was she so resolute?
He suddenly realized that Miss Yang was talking to him. He quickly composed himself. She asked, "Mr. Shen, have you heard where Dr. Zhang is now?" Shi Jun replied, "I don't know. I saw him many years ago." Miss Yang said, "I only heard that he was later released. Of course, that hospital no longer exists; it was taken over. Wasn't it because they wanted that hospital in the first place?"
Some people started a game of tag, but Shih-Chun didn't join. Cui-Chih didn't know how to play either. They left relatively early, but it was still close to midnight. The two took a rickshaw back. Shih-Chun remained silent, and Cui-Chih assumed he was sleepy. She said, "You just drank too much. When you drink too much, you get sleepy. I just saw you sitting there looking like you were about to fall asleep." Shih-Chun didn't answer. Cui-Chih continued, "What did Mrs. Yuan say to you during dinner?" Shih-Chun said blankly, "Huh? -- Oh, Mrs. Yuan? She said so much, I can't remember so much." Cui-Chih said, "Well, during dinner, I saw her laughing and chattering away. Oh, she was talking about the jokes Lao Wu made in Hong Kong."
After a while, Cuizhi said again, "Mrs. Yuan has such beautiful skin. Look how pretty she looks in that black dress today." Shijun said, "I don't see what's so pretty about her." Cuizhi said, "I know you don't like her. You don't like any woman anyway."
Because you yourself feel that women don't like you.
He disliked almost all of her girlfriends; he seemed uninterested in any woman. It wasn't that he was unfaithful, but Cuiyi always felt his feelings for her were indifferent, so she concluded that he was just naturally lukewarm. Shijun thought so too. But now he realized that perhaps he was more passionate than he thought. Otherwise, how could he have lost his rationality in jealousy and actually believed that Manzhen had fallen in love with someone else? Actually—how could she love someone else at the same time? They were so close back then. —That kind of love probably only happens once in a lifetime, right? Maybe once in a lifetime is enough.
Cuizhi called out "Shijun," but he didn't hear her call out once.
She became a little scared, and said with a smile, "Hey, what's wrong? What are you thinking about over there?" Shijun said, "Me? I'm thinking about my whole life."
Cuizhi was both amused and annoyed. She said, "What are you talking about? What's wrong with you today—are you angry?" Shijun said, "Where? Who's angry about what?" Cuizhi said, "It would be strange if you weren't angry. Don't try to deny it. Is there anything about you that I don't know perfectly well?" Shijun thought to himself, "Really? I'm starting to have my doubts."
They were home. Shijun paid the fare, and Cuizhi went to ring the doorbell. Li Ma, still sleepy, opened the door. Cuizhi asked, "Has Mr. Xu returned?" Li Ma replied, "Yes, he's back, but he's already asleep. Oh, can you smell gas?"
Shijun sniffed the air and said, "No." They used a coal stove, but also had a gas stove. Cuizhi said, "I'm always worried about Aunt Li; she still doesn't know how to use the gas stove. I'm afraid she didn't turn it off properly."
The two went upstairs together. Shijun remained silent, and Cuizhi found him very strange today. She became a little uneasy. As they walked up the stairs, she suddenly leaned her head against him and softly said, "Shijun." Shijun mechanically hugged her. He suddenly said, "Hey, I smell it now." Cuizhi asked, "Smell what?" Shijun said, "There's a gas smell." Cuizhi found it utterly unappealing. She paused slightly, then said indifferently, "Then go and see. Take the dog out for a walk; Aunt Li must have forgotten. You can hear it barking there."
The dog was locked in the attic room, whimpering incessantly, its cries filled with sorrow. Shijun went to the attic room, unbuckled the leash, and led the dog downstairs. This was their nightly routine; before going to bed, they always took the dog out to the yard to relieve itself.
Shijun went to the kitchen to check and saw that all the gas stove switches were turned off properly. He thought there might be a leak in the pipes and he'd have to call the gas company tomorrow. He opened the front door, led the dog out, and left the door ajar, walking into the dark little garden. Insects chirped on the grass, and the dew was heavy. A cool breeze blew against his face, and the slight intoxication he'd felt sobered up. The lights were already on in their room upstairs. In the bright window, he could see Cuizhi's shadow moving back and forth. Sometimes when Cuizhi got angry with him, she would say, "I really don't know how we even thought of getting married!" He didn't know either. He only remembered that he was in great pain back then because of Manzhen's situation.
That was the year his father passed away. Also, trying to find ways to cope, he went to Amy's house almost every day that summer to play tennis. A Miss Ding often played tennis with him, and looking back now, there was a possibility he might have married her. In addition, there were several girls from his relatives' families, with whom he met frequently for a period. It's quite possible he married any of them. The truth is, he almost married Cuizhi—which he now finds laughable.
The first time they met was at his brother's wedding when they were children; she was pulling the veil and he was holding the ring.
At the time, I thought the little girl pulling the gauze was utterly despicable; she clearly looked down on him because her family looked down on his family. But now, I often hear Cuizhi say, "Our first meeting was quite romantic." She often tells people this.
Shijun led the dog inside and closed the gate. He kept the dog tied up in the attic room. Seeing the books piled haphazardly in the attic room, all moved from his study, he couldn't help but tidy them up. He picked up a book from the floor, dusted it off, and found it was a copy of "The Complete Collection of New Literature." He had never known where this book had been tucked away before, and he would never have taken it out today if he hadn't made room for Shuhui. He casually picked it up and flipped through it, when he suddenly noticed a letter tucked inside, folded in half, the paper yellowed. It was a letter Manzhen had written to him long ago. He had long since destroyed all of Manzhen's letters and photographs, because keeping them only added to his melancholy. Only this letter remained, and for some reason, he hadn't been able to bring himself to destroy it at the time.
He unconsciously sat down, holding the letter and reading it. It was probably written to him when he returned to Nanjing because of his father's illness. The letter read:
Shi Jun:
It's night now, everyone in the house is asleep, it's so quiet, except for the chirping of the crickets my brother and his friends bought. The weather's gotten cold these past few days. You left in such a hurry this time, you probably didn't bring any winter clothes, right? I think you're always so careless about these things, you wouldn't even think to put on warm clothes if it's cold. I don't know why, but I worry about these things all the time, it's annoying of me.
It's so annoying—no matter what I see or hear someone say, even if it's completely unrelated, my mind will immediately start racing and I'll think of you.