Fang Cheng left early the next morning, taking my sister's ashes with him. I knew he was gone. He stood at my door for a while; I think he probably wanted to say goodbye. But he didn't come in, and then he left. I didn't see him off. For the first time, I let go. Yes! Even when my sister was around, I would interfere in his affairs. I wouldn't allow him to write recklessly, publish books haphazardly, or do anything flashy. I forced him to follow the path I had laid out for him. This time, I didn't say anything. I hoped… no, I thought, that both my sister and he wanted to be free to embark on this journey, to go where they wanted to go, and to walk the paths they wanted to walk.
I didn't send the children back to Shuicheng; he forgot that my sister had left them with me. I had promised her that I would take care of the children if she needed anything, and maybe then my sister would realize that Fang Cheng wasn't reliable. However, I did send Aunt Liu back. Her sons had told her to go back long ago, but she couldn't bear to leave the children. Now that my sister is gone, Fang Cheng is gone, and Xiao Ming and I both have jobs, we need to find a strong helper; Aunt Liu can't keep working like this. When we got to her house, she took a cloth bag from the bottom of a trunk and gave it to me; inside was a bracelet engraved with my name. I looked at her, and she said she had prepared this bracelet a long time ago. She heard that Fang Cheng hadn't married me, and she wanted to have it altered, but in the end, she decided to make a new one. She said she had kept it for me all this time! I didn't take it.
In Shuicheng, I didn't visit Uncle Fang, but he found me. "You and Xiaoming, either go to work or go to school, can the children stay here?" he asked, looking at me. I repeated what my sister had said years ago.
"She knows Fang Cheng can't be a good single father. She doesn't want her children to become the second or third Fang Cheng in twenty years. I'm sorry, Uncle Fang! I will take good care of the children!" I knew I was alluding to him, so I had to apologize immediately.
"What about your job?" He waved his hand dismissively and continued to ask.
“I’ve been moving too fast; it’s time to relax,” I said with a smile.
"What about personal matters?" he asked, looking at me.
"Uncle, my flight is this afternoon. I'll treat you to lunch!" I changed the subject.
Uncle Li came over at lunchtime too. He also told me to bring the child back, or if necessary, we could all come back together. I asked Uncle Fang why he didn't remarry. He smiled and said he had been married once before marrying Fang's mother, but divorced after the Cultural Revolution started, and he never thought about remarrying. Then there was Nizi, Fang's mother. He didn't plan to marry her; he liked her, but not in the way one might think about women. The longer he spent with her, the more he appreciated her simplicity and naturalness. Later, Nizi died, and he was reinstated. His ex-wife wanted to reconcile, and he seriously considered it, but refused! Because he felt she didn't possess the same simplicity and naturalness as Nizi!
Uncle Li didn't let me ask him; he revealed the deepest secret he'd kept hidden all these years. He had only ever loved one woman: Nizi! When they were preparing for their wedding, he was called away by a classmate who had been sent to the countryside. One of his female classmates had gone missing! The girl's father had been a county cadre, but he'd been persecuted since the Cultural Revolution began. The girl had always been kind to him, showing him much care; he considered her a good friend. He inquired and asked why this had happened. It turned out that the girl had learned he was getting married that day. She thought he was marrying Nizi because of Nizi's good family background. She ran into the mountains and jumped off a cliff. He later found her body. He couldn't forgive himself; he rejected Nizi. Seeing her marry Uncle Fang, he couldn't say anything. Until Nizi was about to give birth, when he brought her a gift, Nizi asked him why. She wasn't resentful; she just didn't want him to keep making things difficult for her. He told her the reason! Now, no one knows what that girl was thinking, but that day, Nizi and he reached an understanding. He felt a weight lifted from his heart. Only after Nizi's death did he realize that he had always deeply loved her, and he felt even more guilty towards that other girl. Over the years, he had considered marriage, but he couldn't find someone he could love so wholeheartedly, nor could he find a woman who loved him so sincerely.
That day I thought a lot. What did I want? Was it to keep my promise to my sister? I didn't know. To him, my sister was the woman he loved. What was I? Nothing. I could only look after my sister's children for him, waiting for him to come back after he was hurt. But what would happen when he came back? I didn't know, and it didn't matter anymore. At that moment, all I wanted was to comfort the terrified children!
Chapter 11
He was gone for two years, and he returned on the night the children started school. He didn't return home after recovering from his injuries, but because he knew he was a father and needed to fulfill his responsibilities. But the children didn't recognize him anymore. He was skin and bones again, his glasses were gone, and his hair was cut short. His clothes were tattered and dirty. Seeing him, I felt a chill in my heart.
He also brought a manuscript with him. He spent nearly half a year in a small coal mine, intentionally. He deliberately stayed in a place that could be described as hell on earth for half a year, wanting to know that what he was enduring was just the least torment in life. "It's just the death of a wife!" he said. When he said this, the look in his eyes was not the usual sarcasm; his heart was still aching.
I read the manuscript, and from a professional book critic's perspective, it's a good book, truly a good book. Publishing it would definitely add another Mao Dun Literature Prize winner to my bookshelf. But I can't feel happy. Isn't this the work I've been waiting for? Haven't I always hoped he would experience life and write a truly impactful work? That day, Mr. Wu came to see me. He invited me to lunch, knowing I wouldn't be able to "socialize" with him that evening. He saw the manuscript written on coarse paper; I showed it to him, but he only read a few pages before putting it down.
"It doesn't look like something from an amateur author. How did it end up in your hands?" Old Wu wasn't interested.
"This is the author's most authentic experience over the past six months. You think it's good, right?" I looked forward to his praise. I was always afraid that I would have too high expectations of him and be unfair to his work.
"What do you consider a good book?" He looked at me, the first time he'd ever looked at me with such an inquiring gaze. I didn't know how to answer, because I didn't know, or perhaps I knew but just didn't know how to answer. He smiled. "I think a good book is a book you like."
"No! I don't understand!" His statement was too subjective and did not conform to the impartiality of a literary theorist.
"A few years ago, there was a writer named Fang Cheng, who was also from Peking University. Have you read his books? They're not exactly great literary works, but I really liked them. His best work is undoubtedly 'Sisters,' but his others are also good. As academics have commented, they lack intellectual depth, but I saw his passion, his passion for life! Have you ever had this feeling? When you read a series of books by the same author at the same time, you can feel the author's inner world and the details of his life. For example, this Fang Cheng, I felt that his relationship with his parents wasn't good. He has siblings, he's married, his wife is a very gentle and lovely woman, and they have a child, probably a boy. In several of his books, he talks about how boys have too much energy, leaving adults no time for other things. But you can't hide the pride in his tone! The pride of a father..." He was very proud, talking non-stop. I wanted to ask him why he didn't like this book.
"What about this one?" I interrupted him rudely, and he frowned at me as expected.
"This author has antisocial tendencies. I don't like gloomy works. The author strives for tranquility, but the pages are full of resentment, yet he pretends nothing's wrong. But the imbalance in his heart is all there. So girl, don't try to be a writer. What you write is your lifeblood, and what you sell is your soul!"
"But this is a masterpiece!" I argued.
"Girl, what is a masterpiece? Dickens' *Dombey and Son*. When young Dombey died, British society was plunged into grief. For illiterate laborers, the greatest rest of the day was having someone read a passage from *Dombey and Son* to them. That's a masterpiece! Girl, haven't you woken up yet? You can't treat yourself like a computer, strictly following a program to live and study, judging every article you read. You just said it's a good book, but what's the standard for a masterpiece? Cao Xueqin didn't have such standards when he wrote *Dream of the Red Chamber*, yet who dares to say it's not a masterpiece?"
"This was also written by Fang Cheng, a work he created after two years of silence!" I was delighted to see the old man's face suddenly change.
"He spent two years writing this piece of junk?" He looked utterly incredulous. His expression amused me, and he quickly followed up, "What happened to his family two years ago?"
"His wife is dead!" I said, trying to sound casual.
"His wife? Two years?" He stared into my eyes, and I knew what he wanted to say.
“He’s my brother-in-law. My sister was in a car accident two years ago. He’s been away for the past two years trying to forget the pain. But I’ve been taking care of my sister’s children all this time, so I haven’t been able to write a new book.” I avoided his gaze and said quickly.
"Isn't Fang Cheng the same age as you? You should be classmates!"
"Yes, he's my friend, my classmate. That's how I met my sister and he became my brother-in-law. It's a long story. I'll go have dinner with you." I took his arm, and he chuckled, but I could tell he wasn't happy.
After we ordered, I rinsed the bowls and chopsticks for him, but he kept looking at me and asked, "Girl, are you free?"
"What?" I didn't understand.
“The children’s father is back. Shouldn’t you retire now?” He looked at me thoughtfully. “Girl, do you want to go to England? Cambridge asked me to introduce someone there as a visiting scholar. I know you’re interested. Do you want me to help you prepare?”
"But I promised my sister I would take care of her child! Fang Cheng can't do it, he can't handle it..." I was a little confused. Because no one could possibly ask me this.
“Your teacher’s wife has been gone for almost twenty years! After she passed away, many people advised me to find someone else to take care of me, but my children didn’t say anything, though they were always uneasy about it. I knew it was because they couldn’t let go of their mother, and I didn’t want to hurt their feelings, so I put it off. A few years later, my children moved on, they had their own families, children, and jobs. I lived alone at the school, and they couldn’t come back often, so they suggested I find a companion. Thinking about it, they were right. For my children’s sake, I had to find someone to take care of me. Not being a burden to them is my principle in life. So I started going on blind dates. This one didn’t work, not as good-looking as my wife; that one didn’t work either, not as sweet-talking as my wife; after much picking and choosing, I finally found someone suitable, but then she wasn’t happy, saying I wasn’t as dashing as her husband! I told her about my blind date experience, and we became neighbors and best friends, like brother and sister. Do you understand?” He looked at me.
"Can I think about it?" I pleaded.
"Silly girl, what's the point of arguing with a dead man?" he said, heartbroken. I felt a wave of dizziness, but I quickly looked up at him.
"Wow!"
"Very good, I knew you were a smart kid! Eat!" He was very happy. Finally, he told me I was still young and couldn't ruin myself and Fang Cheng like this. I thought he was right. If things continued like this, for the sake of the children, I would eventually end up in Fang Cheng's arms. But what would the outcome be? He would never love me, because I could never compare to my sister's perfection in his eyes! How could I possibly compete with someone who was already dead? Especially since she was my beloved sister. Winning or losing, I wouldn't be happy. This would only ruin both of us.
After dinner, once I had settled things with the children, I called Fang Cheng and Xiao Ming to the living room. I made Fang Cheng's favorite coffee, and the aroma of coffee filled the room, creating a very comfortable atmosphere. Xiao Ming couldn't help but sigh with relief: "It's been a long time since our family has felt this comfortable."
"Is something the matter?" Fang Cheng looked at me. He's been my friend for so many years, and he understands me far better than I imagined.
"Does Professor Wu remember? He wanted to introduce me to Cambridge as a visiting scholar for two years!" I said in the shortest sentence possible.
"No way!" Xiao Ming rejected the idea without hesitation. "What about the children? My brother-in-law and I can't handle those two kids!"
I looked at Fang Cheng, wanting to know his reaction. Did I hope he would ask me to stay? No! I don't know! He thought for a moment, then nodded. "You've always wanted to go, go ahead! Wait a minute!" He went into the room and took out a bankbook. "Your sister saved this for you. The pounds she's been diligently exchanging over the years are all in your name! Xiao Ming also has one, exchanged for dollars, because she didn't know where you wanted to go!" He placed the bankbook on the coffee table and pushed it in front of me.
"Thank you. I'm going there as a visiting scholar. I get a salary and accommodation, and I've saved some money over the years." I didn't touch the savings book.
"A poor family needs to be frugal on the road, take it! Don't argue with me, you can't let your sister worry about you, right?" His gentle smile made me want to punch him. I smiled, took the coffee, and went back to my room, not even glancing at the bankbook. To him it was money, but to me it meant nothing.
Afterwards, I tried my best to help the children adjust to life without me and to let them spend more time together as a father. Old Wu, on the other hand, threw himself into my application for going abroad with unusual enthusiasm, and it was all done in just two months. He seemed afraid that I might change my mind.
I returned to Shuicheng alone and went to see Uncle Li. He was now the vice governor and looked a little tired. However, he seemed happy to see me. He hugged me.
"Why are you visiting me so readily! Are you on a business trip or giving a lecture?"
"I'm going to England in a few days." I smiled. "They don't even know I'm coming this time. If possible, try to persuade Fang Cheng to come back!"
"Why?" He paused, taken aback.
"Without romantic love, family ties become even more important, right? Uncle Fang is about to retire, and someone needs to take care of him. Wouldn't it be better for three generations of them to be together?"
"You know that's not what I'm asking!"
"I couldn't fight for it when my sister was alive, and I can't fight for it now that she's dead!" I told the truth. He looked at me intently, thought for a moment, and nodded.
"Aren't we going to see Secretary Fang?"
"No, not a single person can know that I was here!"
"Why did you have to come in person? You could have explained it clearly over the phone!"
“Fang Cheng is sometimes like a child. Uncle Fang entrusted him to me with great care, and now I'm passing that responsibility on to you again! I'm powerless to pull him out of his grief because I know he's falling into an abyss, and if I reach out, I'll only drag myself down with him. In fact, I haven't found an effective way to slow it down. I think perhaps you and Uncle Fang can offer him some guidance. If there's no love left, then he can focus on his work or on raising his children!”
I thought you would want him to be happy!
"You wouldn't say that if you met him!"
"Have I told you why I like you?" Uncle Li looked at me intently. I was stunned for a moment. For me, this was no longer a question.
"Isn't it because I'm a promising prospect?" I joked.
"Rumors are unreliable!" He glared at me, but still laughed. "However, your relationship with Zhou Dazheng is also something I'm considering. If Fang Cheng and Zhou Dazheng are brothers-in-law, having the Zhou family's support would be a great benefit to him. Qin being a lawyer, frankly speaking, is not respectable and won't bring him any help, only obstacles. That's why Secretary Fang is heartbroken. If Fang Cheng didn't marry Qin, it would be better for him to be friends with you two sisters. But he insisted on going to extremes. I wondered if he did it on purpose! I just didn't want to use such methods. I was really afraid he would ruin you two sisters..." He was explaining, but it would have been better not to explain at all.
"Why do you like me so much?" I didn't want to hear his political plans; Fang Cheng wasn't suited for politics.
"Because you look like Nizi! That's Fang Cheng's mother. When I first saw you, I was shocked. You really looked like a carbon copy of Nizi when you were little. When Aunt Liu came back from Fang Cheng's parent-teacher conference, she also told me that she liked you too, and felt that God had sent you to take care of Fang Cheng, so she didn't melt down the bracelet she gave you. You really looked like Nizi back then, so I couldn't help but pay attention to you and wanted you to be friends with Fang Cheng. He had never seen Nizi, not even a picture of her. I always wanted him to see what Nizi looked like. It's a strange transference, isn't it? But I really think you're a good person. It was that year when you came back with Fang Cheng and the others, you went to Zhou Dazheng's house alone. Over the years, the Zhou family has really shown their grace. Secretary Fang is very grateful to you. He said you are generous and know when to advance and retreat. It's a pity!"
"Fang Cheng isn't suited for politics!" Ultimately, it all comes down to politics, and it gives me a headache. I don't want to get entangled any longer; what use am I? Fang Cheng has lost interest.
"Do you really think Fang Cheng is unsuitable for politics?" He stared into my eyes, his gaze burning with an excited intensity and unwavering determination. I was puzzled; what was he trying to say?
"Not every six-year-old thinks of protecting themselves when they break someone's head; nor does every child know how to control their grades and keep it a secret from everyone. And to keep it a secret for so many years without letting a word slip! Xiao Ying, you don't understand Fang Cheng at all. He's a born politician! In your words, he's a wolf! What is a wolf? It's a strategist, an extremely intelligent animal that knows how to use everything to protect itself from harm!"
I stared at him blankly, thought for a moment, and then shook my head with a smile. It was time to go to the airport. He asked if I would come back. I looked at the sky, took a deep breath, smiled, and didn't answer him. Uncle Li looked at me, sighed deeply, and said after thinking for a moment, "I talked to Qin Shen once! I want to know why she agreed to marry Fang Cheng! Do you know what she answered me?" Seeing that I didn't speak, he continued, "She said that you are the one she raised, she sacrificed a lot for you, you are much more important to her than Fang Cheng, and she chose Fang Cheng because of you. You can lose to her but you can't lose to anyone else. If Qin rejected Fang Cheng, Fang Cheng wouldn't choose you either. Then you would really lose Fang Cheng, Fang Cheng would disappear from your life forever, maybe you wouldn't even be able to be friends anymore! Choosing Fang Cheng might bring you pain, but pain is better than being lost and helpless! It's also because of this that I really got to know Qin, she really loves you, loves you to a degree you can't imagine. You sisters moved me, to be honest, Fang Cheng doesn't deserve you!" I didn't know why Uncle Li suddenly said this, but what's the use of knowing this now? With my sister gone, Fang Cheng and I are truly finished.
Xiao Ming, Fang Cheng, and the children saw me off at the airport. I kissed the children tightly, then boarded the plane without looking back. Because I couldn't turn back; if I did, I might not be able to leave!
During my time in England, I discovered that I had read far too many books. Besides translating some excellent Chinese works and introducing them to foreign countries, I also got to see those rare and valuable books, but that was about all I gained.
I realized there wasn't much I could learn, so I started writing my story—the story I'd always wanted to write down! It's not long; I'm just recounting my bitterness. After finishing the story, I realized I'd been hiding in a wasteland, a wasteland in my heart. From the day I learned that the person Fang Cheng loved was my sister, I locked myself in that wasteland, never to emerge again!
Eight years have passed, and I am still in pain. So I not only need to hide in the deepest recesses of my heart, but also in this small overseas island. Isn't this damp and gloomy country the best place to heal?
After finishing my own book, I suddenly understood Mr. Wu's advice to me: don't try to be a writer like others, writing your own lifeblood and selling your soul! It's like carrying a child for ten months; the process itself is an achievement. It seems my reviews of Fang Cheng's books were really too harsh; every book of his is hard-won. The book is finished, but I don't want it to be published; I can't face it yet! But it was published by chance, not my intention. All I could do was not sell a Chinese version.
With the internet, there are no secrets left in the world. Xiao Ming called me to say that Fang Cheng had seen the excerpt from the book online, and after thinking about it for a few days, he sent him a copy without saying a word.
A year later, Xiao Ming was also sent to England, and Fang Cheng returned to his hometown. Uncle Li sent me an email saying that Fang Cheng had stopped writing and was working at the provincial literary federation. He said he understood why I had encouraged Fang Cheng to devote himself to his work; he was a child now. Because Fang Cheng had lost that drive.
My two-year visit ended, and Cambridge extended an invitation for me to stay and teach. Xiao Ming didn't say anything; he wanted me to go back. After reading my book, he thought I should end this twenty-year unrequited love. What wolf? I'm more like a tortoise, a cowardly hustler.