Hongcai continued, "Thinking about it, I really feel sorry for her. She was so sick back then, and I still made her suffer. Otherwise, she might not have died. Second sister, everything that happened before was my fault. Don't hate your sister anymore." His self-pity was actually because he was worried about the money. Manzhen hadn't thought of this. Seeing him so remorseful, she felt that he wasn't entirely without conscience. She was still naive. She didn't know that often the most ruthless people are the most cowardly, and the more lawless they are when they are successful, the less they can withstand a little setback. They immediately shrink back and reveal a pitiful face. She even felt a trace of pity for Hongcai amidst her hatred. Although she still didn't intend to talk to him, she didn't want to embarrass him too much.
Hongcai glanced at her face and mumbled, "Second Sister, if you don't care about anything else, take pity on this child. Stay here and look after him for a few days until he gets better before going back."
"I'm going to stay at a friend's house for a few days." As if afraid she would refuse, he walked out of the room before she finished speaking, took out a wad of banknotes from his pocket, stuffed them into Zhang Ma's hand, and said: "Give this to the second young lady later, and ask her to pay for it when the doctor comes. If anything happens, just call me."
Having said that, he immediately fled as if he were running away.
Manzhen believed that he would probably keep his word this time, and if he said he wouldn't come back, he wouldn't.
Manlu had repeatedly told her that Hongcai had always deeply respected and loved her, that he considered her different from any other woman, and that he had only committed the crime in a moment of madness, because he loved her so much. Such words are easily believed by any woman; probably no woman is an exception.
Although Manzhen didn't react at the time, Manlu's words were not in vain.
That night, she stayed at the Zhu family's house and didn't go home, staying up all night with her child. The next morning, she had to go to work as usual, and after get off work, she returned to the Zhu family's house, only to find that Hongcai had already come once and left. Manzhen felt much more at ease then; at least she could focus on caring for her child's illness without worrying about Hongcai. She had originally planned to ask Mu Jin to come again, but then she suddenly remembered that Mu Jin must also be very busy these past few days. Wasn't it said that Madam was going to the hospital yesterday? It seemed like things were about to get serious. She had been so flustered yesterday that she had completely forgotten about it. Actually, she didn't need to ask Mu Jin again; she could just continue with the original doctor.
Mu Jin felt a sense of responsibility towards the child's illness. That evening, he went to Manzhen's apartment again to ask if the child was feeling better. The landlord told him that Manzhen hadn't returned. Mu Jin also knew that they had another doctor treating the child there, and since Manzhen was overseeing everything, he figured there wouldn't be any problems, so he put the matter aside.
Mu Jin was staying at his in-laws' house. Their window faced Manzhen's window, and Mu Jin often couldn't help but glance in that direction. In this sweltering weather, those two windows were always tightly closed, presumably because no one was home. Through the glass window, he could see two towels drying inside, one pink draped over the back of a chair, and one white hanging on a line, always in the same spot. The scorching sun blazed from morning till night, and the two towels were bound to spoil. After more than ten days of drying, the towels became stiff and faded considerably. Manzhen had been staying at the Zhu family's house and hadn't returned, which didn't surprise Mu Jin. He thought about how her sister had died, leaving behind a child with no one to care for him. Perhaps her father was an uneducated man, or perhaps he was too busy making a living to take care of her. Manzhen had always been the most enthusiastic and responsible; if the child was sick, she would naturally feel obligated to take care of him.
But as time went by, after Mu Jin's wife gave birth to a girl via surgery and rested in the hospital for a while, the couple were preparing to return to Lu'an, but Manzhen had not yet returned. Mu Jin originally thought of going to her brother-in-law's house to say goodbye, but since it was a family they were not very familiar with, it seemed inappropriate to rush over, so he kept putting it off and did not go.
That day, he suddenly noticed that a window across from Manzhen's was open, and two towels had been moved to a different spot, as if they had just been washed and were now hanging to dry. He thought she must have returned. He immediately went downstairs to look for her across the hall.
He had been there twice before, and the sub-landlord already recognized him, so she didn't stop him and let him go upstairs on his own. Manzhen was sweeping and wiping the tables there; she hadn't been back for days, and the dust had accumulated thickly. Mu Jin smiled and knocked twice on the open door. When Manzhen looked up and saw him, for a fleeting moment, a shadow seemed to pass over her face; it was as if she didn't want him to come, but Mu Jin thought it was probably just his imagination.
He walked in and smiled, "Long time no see. Is the child better?" Manzhen smiled, "Yes, he is. I haven't come to congratulate you yet. Has your wife been discharged from the hospital? Is it a boy or a girl?" Mu Jin smiled, "It's a girl. Rongzhen has been out for a week now, and we plan to go back tomorrow." Manzhen exclaimed, "You're leaving already?" She wiped the chair with a cloth and gestured for Mu Jin to sit down. Mu Jin sat down and smiled, "I'm leaving tomorrow, and I don't know when I'll see you again, so I had to come see you today and talk to you more." He insisted on seeing her one last time before leaving because she had previously said that she had a lot to tell him, and her tone suggested some hidden pain. But at this moment, Manzhen regretted saying those things to him. She had already decided to marry Hongcai, so there was no need to mention the past.
The table was already spotless, but she unconsciously kept wiping it with a rag. After a while, she went to the window to shake off the dust. It was originally a worn-out pink headscarf, which she had used as a rag. Holding it with both hands, she shook off the dust outside the window, the red fabric fluttering lazily in the sunset and gentle breeze. The afternoon weather was beautiful.
Mu Jin waited a while, and when she didn't speak, he smiled and said, "Didn't you say last time you had a lot to tell me?" Manzhen said, "Yes, but after thinking about it, I don't want to bring those things up again." Mu Jin thought she was afraid that bringing them up would only cause her sadness, so he paused before saying, "Talking about it might make you feel better." Manzhen remained silent. Mu Jin was silent for a while, then said, "I came this time because I felt you weren't in a good mood, quite different from before." Although he said it so casually, there was a sense of感慨 (gǎnkǎi, a feeling of mixed emotions, including regret and reflection) in his tone.
Manzhen shivered involuntarily. He could tell from the sight of her that she had suffered a series of traumas, and was completely broken. He had always thought she at least appeared calm. She smiled at Mu Jin and said, "You think I'm a completely different person, don't you?" Mu Jin hesitated for a moment before saying, "Your appearance hasn't changed, but I always feel—" He had always thought she was the most vibrant woman, and her personality also had a resolute side. With her family relying on her for survival, she seemed to still have plenty of energy left, maintaining a serene demeanor. This time, however, she looked so desolate and somewhat dazed; the pressures of life alone couldn't have made her this bad. He believed it was because of Shen Shijun. Something had happened that prevented them from finishing what they started. Since she didn't want to talk about it, Mu Jin naturally didn't press her.
He could only earnestly say to her, "I'm not here, so please write to me often tomorrow, okay? To be honest, seeing you like this, I'm really worried." The more concerned he was, the more Manzhen felt a pang of heartache, and she could no longer hold back her tears. Mu Jin stared at her, stunned, and after a long while, he smiled and said, "It's all my fault, don't say such things." Manzhen suddenly blurted out, "No, I wanted to tell you—" But then she choked up.
She truly didn't know where to begin. Seeing Mu Jin listening so intently, her mind suddenly went blank, and she blurted out, "The child you saw isn't my sister's—" Mu Jin stared at her in astonishment. She turned her face away, her expression cold and resolute. Mu Jin thought, "Is that child hers? Her illegitimate child, given to her sister to raise? Is it Shen Shijun's child?"
Or someone else's—was that why Shijun left her? A series of speculations, all unbelievable to him, flashed through his mind in that instant.
Manzhen began to speak haltingly again, this time starting from the day Mu Jin came to her house to deliver the wedding invitation. It was on that day that she accompanied her mother to visit her sister in the hospital. Throughout her narration, she tried to leave some room for her sister, because Mu Jin's past relationship with Manlu had been so deep, and she didn't want to destroy any remaining feelings he might have for her. Besides, her sister was now dead. But no matter how she tried to excuse Manlu, the fact remained that Manlu had remained imprisoned in the Zhu family for a year without offering any help. Mu Jin was utterly horrified. He couldn't imagine how Manlu could have participated in such a despicable conspiracy. He didn't even know Manlu's husband; he suspected he was a wicked man. But Manlu—he remembered their first meeting when they were fifteen or sixteen, their initial engagement, and later, when she left to become a dancer for her family, bidding him farewell. The Manlu he knew was such a pure and kind person. Even the last time he saw her, he felt she seemed to have become vulgar, but that wasn't her fault; he believed she was still good at heart. How could she be so heartless towards her own sister?
Manzhen continued, recounting how she had barely escaped after giving birth, and how her mother, after much searching, finally located her and then urged her to return to the Zhu family. Mu Jin found her mother utterly absurd, and he was so angry he couldn't speak. Manzhen then spoke of how her sister, later seriously ill, personally begged her to marry Hongcai for the sake of the child, but she refused. At this point, her voice became hoarse and low, because although she had refused then, she was now going to do as the deceased wished. She knew it was wrong, and her heart was filled with inner conflict; she desperately needed to discuss it with Mu Jin, but she simply didn't have the courage to speak up. She felt deeply ashamed, especially ashamed before Mu Jin.
Just now, out of consideration for Mu Jin's feelings, she tried her best to lessen her sister's responsibility, inadvertently aggravating Hongcai's crimes and portraying him as a devil. Now, suddenly saying she wanted to marry him, she naturally found it even more difficult to say. She knew that even if she portrayed him more favorably, making him appear somewhat passive, Mu Jin still wouldn't approve. This kind of marriage, a result of a mistake, was probably disapproved of by any friend who genuinely cared for her.
She stopped talking after mentioning her sister's death. Mu Jin sat there with his arms crossed and eyes downcast, remaining silent. He truly didn't know what to say to comfort her. But her story wasn't over yet—Mu Jin suddenly remembered that when her child was sick, she had gone to care for him and stayed at the Zhu family's house for so many days. He figured she and Hongcai must have some understanding between them; otherwise, how could she have stayed there for so long? Could it be that she had changed her mind and was prepared to sacrifice herself for her child's happiness and marry Hongcai? He even suspected she was already living with Hongcai. —No, that couldn't be. She was definitely not that kind of person; he had underestimated her.
He considered for a long time before finally saying cautiously, "I think your attitude is right. Your sister's demands are simply unreasonable. Wouldn't such a forced marriage ruin her life?" He also offered her a lot of advice; she had never heard Mu Jin say so much in one go. He believed that if one person in a marriage is unhappy, the other cannot be happy either. Actually, he didn't need to say it; she had already thought of everything he could say, perhaps even more thoroughly.
For example, Hongcai's love for her—even if he truly loved her, could that kind of love last? But you can't say that. She initially believed Shijun truly loved her, and that his love should be lasting, but it wasn't. Therefore, she now has no firm beliefs about anything in the world, feeling that everything is uncertain. Her child is the only real thing, especially since she rescued him at the brink of death; she can't abandon him again.
She herself was insignificant; it seemed to make little difference how she was dealt with. For example, she was already dead.
Mu Jin added, "Actually, as long as you make up your mind now, your future will definitely be bright." It was just a word of encouragement, but Manzhen felt a pang of sorrow upon hearing it, and tears welled up in her eyes again. What was the point of crying in front of him? Mu Jin's circumstances were different now; in this situation, she should be a little more tactful. She abruptly stood up, smiling, and said, "Look at me, I've been rambling on for so long, and I haven't even poured you a bowl of tea." Two glasses were covered on the dresser; she picked one up and held it up to the light to examine it. It hadn't been used in a long time and was covered in dust. She busied herself wiping the teacup and finding tea leaves, but Mu Jin was stunned. Why was she suddenly being so polite? It seemed she didn't want to continue the conversation. However, he thought again that his words of encouragement were just empty comfort; he really couldn't help her. He was silent for a moment, then said, "You don't need to pour tea; I'm leaving." She blew away the dust and wiped it with a cloth. Mu Jin stood up to leave, then took out a notebook from his pocket, tore off a piece of paper, bent over and wrote down his address on the table before handing it to Manzhen. Manzhen said, "I have your address."
Mu Jin asked, "Is this number fourteen?" He also wrote it down in his notebook. Manzhen thought to herself that she was about to return to this house, and his letters wouldn't reach her, but she didn't say anything. She really couldn't tell him. In the future, he would hear from others that she had married Hongcai. He would definitely think how could she be so useless, and he would definitely regret valuing her too much in the past.
She saw him downstairs, and as they parted, she asked, "What time are you leaving tomorrow?" Mu Jin replied, "First thing tomorrow morning."
Manzhen went back upstairs and stood at the window. She saw Mu Jin still standing at the back door diagonally opposite, seemingly having rung the bell but no one had come to answer. He saw her too, smiling and raising one hand in a gesture almost like a wave. Manzhen smiled and nodded, then quickly shrank back, her face already streaked with tears. She stood by the table, sobbing, and picked up a rag to wipe her tears, but realizing it was a rag, she threw it onto the table. The worn-out red rag slid lazily from the table to the floor.
Novel txt Heaven
Eighteen Spring Fifteen
When the August 13th Incident began, the fighting in Shanghai lasted for three months. Many wealthy people panicked and fled inland. Manzhen's mother was in Suzhou, where panic was also widespread. Although Mrs. Gu wasn't wealthy, she was also influenced by the herd mentality; everyone was fleeing to the upper reaches of the Yangtze River, and she also fled to her ancestral home in Lu'an. By then, her mother had already passed away. Mrs. Gu had been a daughter-in-law until her fifties or sixties, and while she had her share of complaints, the two had always endured hardship together, and she had developed a sense of companionship in their old age. Now that her mother was dead, she was all alone, with none of her children around. One daughter was studying nursing in Suzhou, and her two younger children were being sponsored by their brother to attend university. Weimin was teaching in Shanghai, and he was already married.
Mrs. Gu returned to Lu'an. Her family owned two tiled houses outside the city, originally intended for the gravedigger, but now they used them themselves. Not long after her return, Mu Jin came to visit her. He wanted to inquire about Manzhen's situation; his numerous letters to Manzhen had been returned undelivered. Knowing about Manzhen's entanglement with the Zhu family, he felt that Mrs. Gu had always been submissive, even suggesting that Manzhen's long-term confinement by the Zhu family was with her consent. Whether she had willingly sold out her daughter or been fooled, Mu Jin felt a certain contempt for her. Upon meeting him, his expression was cold, but Mrs. Gu, upon seeing him for the first time, was exceptionally warm, as if meeting an old friend in a foreign land. After chatting for a while, Mu Jin asked, "Where is Manzhen now?" Mrs. Gu replied, "She's still in Shanghai. She got married—oh, you know Manlu died, right? Manzhen married Hongcai." Mrs. Gu spoke very politely, as if Manzhen marrying her brother-in-law was a natural thing. Mu Jin probably didn't know the inside story, but she was somewhat guilty about it, considering it a disgrace to the family. So she mentioned it briefly and then changed the subject.
Hearing this news, Mu Jin was not entirely surprised, but it still shocked him greatly. He truly felt sorry for Manzhen. Mrs. Gu spoke to him at length, and he gave a few perfunctory replies before making an excuse that he had some business to attend to and taking his leave. He had only come once. He didn't even come to pay his respects during the New Year or any other holiday.
Mrs. Gu was furious, thinking to herself, "This is outrageous! I never imagined he would be so opportunistic. Back when he came to Shanghai, he always stayed at our house. Now that he sees I'm poor, he doesn't even recognize his own relatives."
The war had reached this point. Mrs. Gu was still undecided, wanting to go to Shanghai, but the roads were difficult to travel now, and she was alone, elderly, and had no one to look after her along the way. Eventually, she could no longer leave even if she wanted to.
Shanghai had already fallen by then. Newspapers reported the fall of Lu'an, a small place, and the news was only briefly mentioned in a few lines before being forgotten. Manzhen, Weimin, and Jiemin were naturally very worried, wondering if Mrs. Gu was still safe there. Weimin received a letter from Mrs. Gu, actually sent before the fall, so he still didn't know her current situation, but he passed the letter around, showing it to Jiemin and asking him to take it to Manzhen. Jiemin now worked at a bank; he had only completed one year of university before joining this bank.
That day, he came to the Zhu family's house. Rongbao adored this little uncle, and as soon as he arrived, she stayed by his side, refusing to leave. It was hot, and Jiemin was only wearing a white shirt and yellow khaki shorts. In the past two years, due to the war, everyone dressed very casually. As soon as he sat down, Rongbao, who was nestled beside Manzhen, suddenly turned around and called out, "Mom." Manzhen responded, "Hmm?" Manzhen glanced at Jiemin's knee and couldn't help but laugh, saying, "I remember your scar wasn't this big before. As people grow up, their scars grow too." Jiemin lowered his head and touched his knee, laughing, "This is from when I was learning to ride a bicycle and fell down." As he said this, he suddenly seemed to be deep in thought. Manzhen asked him if the bank was busy, and he just gave a casual reply. Then he suddenly punched his leg with his fist and laughed, "I told you I had something to tell you! I forgot about it when I saw you. — I ran into someone the other day, guess who? I ran into Shen Shijun." It was because they were talking about when he was learning to ride a bicycle, and Shijun had taught him. Seeing that Manzhen was staring blankly, as if she hadn't understood him, he repeated, "Shen Shijun. He opened an account at our bank, and he's been here twice already." Jiemin said, "Otherwise, I wouldn't have recognized him. I only remembered him when I saw his name. I didn't greet him, so of course he wouldn't recognize me—how old was I when he saw me?" As he spoke, he pointed to Rongbao and laughed, "The same age as him!" Manzhen laughed too. She wanted to ask him how Shijun was doing, but before she could say it, Jiemin leaned forward, took out Mrs. Gu's letter from his pocket, and handed it to her. They then talked about their business, mentioning that he might be transferred to Zhenjiang next month. After a few digressions, Manzhen couldn't bring up the matter again. There was nothing to be embarrassed about; what was the big deal about asking? He was her lover from many years ago, and now she was in her thirties, with grown children. Especially in her younger brother's eyes, she was quite old, wasn't she? But precisely because of this, she felt even more embarrassed to show him that deep affection.
She glanced at her mother's letter, but had nothing to say. They exchanged a few words of mutual comfort, but everyone shared the same thought: if their mother were to suffer any misfortune, they would inevitably blame themselves for not insisting that she come to Shanghai. Jiemin, of course, had no choice; he had nowhere to live and was staying in the bank's dormitory. Weimin's place was also cramped, sharing a single room with his mother-in-law, who was their only daughter and had agreed to live with them in their old age. Manzhen was different; it wasn't that she couldn't afford to bring her mother over. Since the fall of the country, only merchants had found it easy to make money, so Hongcai's situation had improved in the last two years. He had acquired a new two-story house, which would be convenient for Mrs. Gu to stay in, but Manzhen didn't want her to come. Manzhen rarely saw her two younger brothers; she avoided everyone, wishing she could hide herself in a dark hole. She always felt a sense of impurity.
Hongcai was deeply disappointed in her. Before, she always seemed unattainable; he'd longed for her for years, and even after he had her, he still felt a sense of unease, never truly possessing her. Once she married him, as time went on, she lost her allure, even making him feel cheated, like a bowl of vegetarian shrimp that was actually made of potatoes—bland and tasteless. At first, he thought that at least she was presentable in public, and having her as a wife would be a source of pride. So for a time, he often forced her to go out with him to social events. But now she was simply no good; compared to the wives of his friends, she was nowhere near as attractive. She had no interest in grooming, her complexion was sallow, she always looked sickly, her clothes were unfashionable, and she was always silent when meeting people, sometimes not even hearing them. Her eyes often held a dull, lifeless quality. How could she have changed so much after he got her? Hongcai felt truly resentful. That's why he was always arguing with her. No matter how fierce their arguments got, Manzhen never brought up the past, never saying that she hadn't married him willingly. She was afraid that remembering the past would only cause her more pain. If she didn't mention it, he naturally forgot. After all, once married, the events before the wedding became insignificant. Regardless of who begged whom, once married, whoever was unreasonable had the upper hand. Hongcai was always picking on her, but Manzhen rarely argued with him. She felt like she was already in a quagmire; what was there to argue about? Nothing really mattered.
Lu'an has been occupied for about ten days, and remittances are still not working, so the situation there must still be chaotic. Manzhen wanted to send some money to her mother and needed to ask Jiemin if the remittances were working. These things couldn't be discussed over the phone; she had to go in person, give him the money, and let him send it if possible. Their branch was small, and the staff dormitory was upstairs, accessible through the back door. That day, Manzhen deliberately waited until after they closed before going, because she had overheard Jiemin say that Shijun had visited their branch, and she was afraid of running into him. Actually, he had wronged her back then, but after all these years, she no longer thought about those things. She only felt that the life she was living now was unfair to herself. Perhaps she still harbored a little resentment towards him, because she didn't want his pity.
It was usually the height of summer, but this evening was surprisingly cool. Manzhen rarely went out, and although Hongcai had his own tricycle, she never rode in it. She took the tram to Jiemin's place, and after getting off, she walked along the road. The sky was a pale, inky blue, and a cool breeze blew against her skin; somewhere else, it must be raining. These past few days, she had often thought of Shijun. Thinking of him reminded her of her youth. Back then, she went out to teach every evening, and Shijun would walk her there, walking along the road like this. Those two men seemed so close to her, as if she could reach out and touch them. Sometimes she felt the wind blowing against their clothes, brushing against her—as if they were right beside her, yet a mountain separated them.
The bank where Jiemin worked had its front entrance facing the street, and its back entrance inside a lane. Manzhen remembered it was Lane 509; she followed the addresses to the end. Near the lane entrance was a shop with a tall, red neon sign, bathing the lane entrance in a quiet red light. A person emerged from the lane; in the red light, he wasn't very clear, but Manzhen was startled. Perhaps the gait was somewhat familiar—but she and Shijun hadn't seen each other for over ten years, and if she hadn't been thinking of him, she would never have recognized him so immediately. —It was him. She quickly turned her face away, facing the shop window. He probably hadn't seen her. Of course, if he didn't know he might run into her here, he wouldn't have paid much attention to a passing woman. Manzhen, however, hadn't expected him to be at the bank so late.
Because she was always late, she had to go in through the back door and ask a familiar bank employee for leniency. This is what Manzhen thought later; at the time, her mind was in turmoil, and all she knew was that he was the person she least wanted to see in the world. She turned around and walked west along the road. He seemed to be walking west as well; she heard footsteps behind her and thought it was probably him. Although she still believed he hadn't seen her, she became even more anxious. There wasn't a single pedicab in sight; a nearby theater had just finished showing, and all the pedicabs had gone there. Because of the theater closing, cars were constantly coming and going, making it impossible to cross the road. The person behind her walked faster and faster, eventually starting to run. Manzhen was suddenly confused. Seeing a bus rumbling towards her, and a bus stop just ahead, she ran forward, trying to get on. After running a few steps, she suddenly saw Shijun brush past her, passing in front of her. It turned out he wasn't chasing her, but the bus.
Manzhen stopped in her tracks. The danger seemed to have passed, but she couldn't resist checking again to see if it really was Shijun. It all felt too dreamlike; she couldn't quite believe it. The bright lights from the windows of two shoe stores illuminated the street, making it easy to see Shijun's clothes and his face clearly. Although it was all in a fleeting moment, she could roughly sense whether he had gained or lost weight, whether he seemed wealthy or not. But for some reason, Manzhen had no recollection of him at all. She only saw Shijun, and her heart pounded with a mixture of joy and sorrow, feeling as if she were floating on the sea, unsure of where she was.
She just stared blankly in that direction. The bus had already left, but Shijun was still standing there because it was too crowded to get on, so he had to wait for the next one. The next bus was coming from the east, so he naturally turned to look east, towards Manzhen. Suddenly, she realized that turning back immediately would be too abrupt and would attract attention. Without further thought, she hurriedly crossed the road and headed towards the other side. The long line of cars had loosened a bit, but suddenly a truck appeared, screeching to a stop right in front of her. Its two large headlights shone blindingly white, and the truck's front end seemed enormous, the size of a room, rushing towards her like a dark room. She didn't remember much after that, only hearing a long, drawn-out scream that brought the truck to a halt, followed by the driver's tirade. Manzhen's legs were trembling so badly she could barely stand, but she quickly crossed the street. Fortunately, she didn't walk far before she encountered a tricycle. She got on, and the tricycle crossed several streets, but her heart was still pounding wildly.
Perhaps it was a hysterical outburst of terror, but tears streamed down her face like a gushing spring. She wished she could be hit by a car and die; she truly wanted to die. It started to rain, large raindrops pelting her, but she didn't ask the driver to stop and pull up the canopy. She returned home, went upstairs to her bedroom. Because of the rain, all the windows were tightly shut. It felt warm and cozy inside, so she didn't turn on the light and simply lay down on the bed. In the dim room, only a mirror on the wardrobe emitted a faint glow. Some of the furniture was bought when she and Hongcai got married, others were added later. In the oppressive air, the furniture seemed densely packed together, making her feel suffocated. This was the pit she had dug for herself, a grave she had dug herself. She lay on the bed, sobbing and wailing.