This was the first time Manzhen and Shijun had gone out to eat alone. At first, she felt very uncomfortable. Shuhui seemed to be the soul of their little group. Without him, it immediately became quiet, with only the sound of bowls and plates being heard.
The restaurant was unusually quiet today. The woman in charge of the accounts sat at the counter with nothing to do, her eyes constantly glancing in their direction. Perhaps it was just Shijun's imagination, but it seemed as if they were being paid special attention to them today. The woman was probably the owner; she had permed hair and a few sparse bangs framing her face.
I always saw her knitting there, knitting a bright red sweater. Today the weather was warmer, and she changed into a short-sleeved, light blue cotton cheongsam, revealing a large section of her plump, white arms, which stood out vividly against the bright red sweater. She also wore a jade bracelet on her arm. Shijun smiled at Manzhen and said, "It's so warm today." Manzhen replied, "It's incredibly hot."
Shijun said, "I saw your younger brother that day." Manzhen smiled and said, "That's my youngest brother." Shijun asked, "How many siblings do you have in total?" Manzhen smiled and said, "Six in total. I thought you were the eldest." Manzhen smiled and asked, "Why?" There were circles of teacup stains on the table. She traced circles along those white stains with her finger, saying, "I guessed you must be an only child. Is that right?" Manzhen didn't answer his question, only saying, "Even if you have sisters, you only have sisters, no brothers." He was wrong. He had an older brother, but he had passed away. Besides his father and mother, he only had a sister-in-law and a nephew. His family had always lived in Nanjing, but he wasn't from Nanjing. He asked her where she was from, and she said she was from Lu'an Prefecture. Shi Jun said, "That's the place where the tea leaves are grown. Have you ever been there?" Man Zhen said, "I went there once the year my father was buried." Shi Jun said, "Oh, your father is no longer here." Man Zhen said, "He died when I was fourteen."
The conversation had reached the edge of her secret. Shijun didn't believe she was hiding anything, but a sudden silence made him unable to deny its existence. However, he absolutely refused to ask unless she told him. And frankly, he almost didn't want to know. Could Shuhui's guess be true—the situation seemed worse than Shuhui imagined. And she, on the surface, was such a simple and lovely person; it was almost unbelievable.
He pretended to be relaxed and picked up a piece of food with his chopsticks, but the food was not to be eaten.
It was all dull and tasteless. He casually picked up a bottle of ketchup, intending to pour some, but ketchup is always like that—it can take forever to pour, and when it does come out, it's a huge pile. He looked down and saw it was overflowing, a bright red slurry that completely covered a bowl of rice. The proprietress at the counter gave their table another harsh look; this time, however, it wasn't out of friendly concern.
Manzhen didn't notice any of this. She seemed determined to tell him about her family's situation. After a moment of silence, she smiled and said, "My father used to work in a bookstore. With so many people in the family, including my grandmother, we lived on his meager salary. After my father died, things really went wrong. We were all still young then, except for my older sister. From then on, our family depended on my sister alone."
Upon hearing this, Shi Jun understood a little.
Manzhen continued, "My sister hadn't even graduated from middle school yet. She wanted to go out and work, but what could she do? Even if she found work, the pay wouldn't be much, not enough to support her family. The only option was to become a dancer." Shijun said, "That's alright. There are all kinds of dancers; it all depends on yourself." Manzhen paused, then smiled and said, "Of course, there are good dancers, but at that rate, you can't support a whole family!" Shijun was speechless. Manzhen continued, "Anyway, once you embark on this path, it's always a downhill road, unless you're exceptionally cunning—my sister wasn't that kind of person; she was actually very honest." At this point, Shijun noticed her voice was choked with emotion. He couldn't think of anything to comfort her, so he just smiled and said, "Don't be sad." Manzhen picked up her chopsticks and started picking at her rice, head down, searching for grains of weed in the rice, picking them out one by one. After a while, she suddenly said, "Don't tell Shuhui." Shijun responded. He hadn't intended to tell Shuhui in the first place. Not for any other reason than that he couldn't explain why Manzhen had told him everything. She knew Shuhui before she met him, but she hadn't told Shuhui. Manzhen, however, realized this too, feeling her earlier words were inappropriate, and blushed again. She said, "Actually, I've always wanted to tell him, but somehow—I haven't." Shijun nodded and said, "I think it's alright if you tell Shuhui; he'll definitely understand. Your sister sacrificed herself for the family; there was simply no other way."
Manzhen had always been most afraid to talk about her family. This day, she made an exception and spoke so much to Shijun, and when she returned home that day, she felt utterly dejected. The house her family now lived in was one that her sister had rented from someone she had previously lived with. After they separated, she stopped working as a prostitute. She became a low-level courtesan, which was more affordable, but her value had diminished. Sometimes, she was mistaken for a dancer, which always made her happy.
Manzhen walked into the alley. Her youngest brother, Jiemin, was playing shuttlecock there. When he saw her, he called out, "Second sister, Mom's back!" Their mother had gone to their ancestral home to pay respects at their graves before the Qingming Festival. Manzhen was very happy to hear that she had returned.
She went in through the back door, her younger brother following behind, kicking a shuttlecock. The older sister, Abao, was in the kitchen opening a beer, with two large glasses on the table. Manzhen frowned and said to her brother, "Hey, be careful, don't break anything!"
If you're going to kick it, go outside and kick it.
Ah Bao was running a beer bar there, and there were always customers. At the same time, she heard a radio crackling loudly, indicating that her sister's door was open. She stood in the kitchen doorway and peeked inside, but didn't go in directly. Ah Bao said, "There's no one here. Mr. Wang hasn't come either, only his friend surnamed Zhu, who's been here for a while." Jie Min added from the side, "Look, it's that guy who smiles like a cat and doesn't smile like a mouse." Manzhen couldn't help but chuckle, saying, "Nonsense! How can one person be both like a cat and a mouse?" Saying this, she walked into the kitchen, passed her sister Manlu's room, and quickly went up the stairs.
Manlu wasn't in her room; she was on the stairs making a phone call. Her voice, like the singing voice on the radio, was shrill and piercing, equally delicate and high-pitched, equally deafening. She shouted, "Are you coming or not? If you're not coming, you'd better watch out!" She stood there, a phone book hanging below the phone, which she gripped and shook repeatedly, her body twisting with the movement. She wore an apple-green soft satin long cheongsam, almost new, except for a faint dark handprint on her waist—a mark left by someone's sweaty hands while dancing. The sudden appearance of such a faint black handprint on her clothes had a somewhat terrifying feel to it. Her hair was disheveled and unkempt, but her face was covered in stage makeup—bright red, jet black, with blue eyeshadow. From afar, she was beautiful, but up close, she looked grotesque. Manzhen brushed past her on the stairs, almost in a daze, unable to believe this was her sister. Manlu was saying into the phone, "Old Zhu arrived early, he's been waiting for you for ages! -- Bullshit!"
"I want him to be with me! —Thank you, but I was unwanted in my past life, so I don't need you to play matchmaker for me!" She laughed. She had only recently adopted this kind of laughter, a hearty laugh that sounded as if someone were tickling her. Strangely, however, the laughter wasn't particularly provocative; on the contrary, it had a somewhat aged quality. Manzhen was truly afraid to hear that voice.
Manzhen hurried upstairs. Upstairs was a completely different world. Her mother sat in the room, surrounded by baskets, bundles, and bedding. As she tidied, she chatted with her grandmother about what had happened since they last met. Manzhen went up and called out, "Mom." Her mother smiled and responded, her eyes fixed on Manzhen's face as if she had something to say, but she didn't. Manzhen found this a little strange. Her grandmother said, "Manzhen had a fever and chills a couple of days ago and slept for two days straight." Her mother said, "No wonder you've lost weight." She smiled at Manzhen again. Manzhen asked about the graves, and her mother sighed, telling her that they hadn't been back for years; the trees had all been cut down, and the grave caretakers weren't doing anything. After recounting this for a while, she suddenly remembered and said to Manzhen's grandmother, "Haven't I been longing to eat food from my hometown?"
This time, besides tea, I also brought some baked cakes, sesame cakes, and fried rice noodles.
As he spoke, he hurriedly rummaged through the basket and then said to Manzhen, "Didn't you all love fried rice noodles when you were little?"
Manzhen's grandmother said she needed to find an airtight biscuit tin to store the pastries and went to look for one in the next room. As soon as she left, Manzhen's mother went to the desk, tidied it up, and said, "I wasn't home, and you were sick again; the children have made a complete mess of this place." Under the glass of the desk were several small photos, taken by Manzhen in the countryside last time. One was of her standing next to Shuhui, and another was of Shuhui alone—she had put the one of Shijun away separately. Manzhen's mother bent down to look at it and casually asked, "Where did you take these?" Her tone was serious, but immediately her eyes were fixed intently on Manzhen, watching for any change in her expression. Manzhen then understood why her mother had been looking at her with that smirking expression. Her mother had probably seen those two photos as soon as she returned; although they were very ordinary photos, they held immense hope in them. The good intentions parents have for their children are both laughable and pathetic.
Manzhen simply smiled and replied, "This is a colleague. His surname is Xu, Xu Shuhui." Her mother, observing her expression, couldn't decipher anything and didn't press the matter further. Manzhen then asked, "Does Sister know that Mother is back?"
Her mother nodded and said, "She came up just now, but then a guest arrived, so she went down. —Did that Mr. Wang come?" Manzhen said, "That Mr. Wang didn't come, did he? But he's one of their group." Her mother sighed and said, "The people she's dealing with are getting more and more uncouth, downright vulgar. I guess people these days are getting worse and worse!" Her mother only felt that the character of Manlu's guests was deteriorating, but she didn't realize that it was because Manlu herself was deteriorating. Thinking this, Manzhen became even more silent.
Her mother prepared several bowls of fried rice noodles with boiling water, gave one to her grandmother, and said, "Where's Jiemin? He was just asking for snacks." Manzhen replied, "He's downstairs playing shuttlecock." She went down to call him, but when she reached the top of the stairs, she saw him standing on the lower step, holding onto the railing and leaning over, peering into Manlu's room. Manzhen grew anxious and whispered sharply, "Hey! What are you doing? I kicked one of my shuttlecocks inside. Come out!"
The two were speaking softly when a guest suddenly appeared in Manlu's room—the man surnamed Zhu, named Zhu Hongcai. He was tall and thin, with narrow shoulders and a slender neck, wearing a traditional Chinese overcoat. He stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips, and upon seeing Manzhen, he nodded and greeted her with a smile, "Second Miss." He had probably been paying close attention to her, so he knew she was Manlu's sister. Manzhen had seen this man before, but seeing him today, she couldn't help but recall Jiemin's description of him: that he smiled like a cat and when he wasn't smiling, he looked like a mouse. Now, with a serious face, small eyes, and a pointed mouth, he indeed resembled a mouse. She almost burst out laughing, but managed to hold it in, still smiling broadly as she nodded at him. Zhu Hongcai didn't know why she was showing him such affection today. When she smiled, he naturally smiled too; and when he smiled, his face immediately turned into a cat's face. Manzhen couldn't bear it any longer and immediately turned and ran upstairs. Zhu Hongcai took it as a kind of coquettish shyness, and standing at the foot of the stairs, he felt a little longing for it.
He returned to Manlu's room and asked, "Does your second young lady have a boyfriend?"
Manlu asked, "Why are you asking about this?" Hongcai laughed and said, "Don't misunderstand, I don't mean anything by it. If she doesn't have a boyfriend, I can introduce her to someone." Manlu snorted and said, "Are there any good people among your friends? They're all bad!" Hongcai laughed and said, "Oh dear, oh dear, why are you so angry today?"
"I think you're still angry with Old Wang, aren't you?" Manlu suddenly said, "Tell me honestly, is Old Wang getting involved with Fina again?" Hongcai said, "How would I know? You didn't leave Old Wang in my care."
Manlu ignored him, forcefully stubbed out her cigarette, and muttered to herself, "Such a good appetite—Fina, with her pouty lips, swollen eyes, legs like a Japanese woman's, and no neck—people say fair skin hides a hundred flaws, but I think youth hides a hundred flaws!" She walked dejectedly to her dressing table, picked up a mirror, and looked at herself. The result of looking in the mirror was that she started putting on makeup again. Her makeup needed constant attention.
She was quite cold to Hongcai, yet he lingered there, refusing to leave. There was a photo album on the table, which he casually dragged over and flipped through. One photo was a four-inch portrait of a round-faced girl with two short braids. Hongcai laughed, "When was this taken of your sister? She still has braids!" Manlu glanced at the album and said with annoyance, "This isn't my sister." Hongcai said, "Then who is it?"
Manlu paused, hesitated for a moment, and then sneered, "You don't recognize me at all?"
"I just can't believe I've become this amazing!" Her voice changed at the last two words, becoming slightly hoarse. Hongcai suddenly realized, and laughed, "Oh, it's you?" He looked at her closely, then at the photo, examining it from every angle, and said, "Hmm! To be honest, you do look a bit like her."
His casual remark had a stimulating effect on her. Manlu remained silent, continuing to apply lipstick while looking in the mirror, but doing so very slowly. Her breath clung to the mirror, eventually fogging it up. Impatiently, she haphazardly wiped the fogged surface with her fingers before resuming her lipstick application.
Hongcai was still studying the photo when he suddenly asked, "Is your sister still studying there?" Manlu just gave a vague hum, too lazy to answer him. Hongcai continued, "Actually—given her looks, if she went out to do it, she could definitely succeed."
Manlu slammed the mirror on the table and shouted, "Stop talking nonsense! I've made a living this way, but does that mean my whole family is destined to make a living this way? You're just looking down on me!" Hongcai laughed and said, "What's wrong with you today? You get angry at the slightest provocation. I guess I'm just unlucky to have met you when you're in a bad mood."
Manlu glared at him and picked up the mirror again. Hongcai, with a lecherous grin, leaned close behind her and whispered, "Dressed up so beautifully, want to go out?" Manlu didn't flinch, turning her head to smile at him and saying, "Where to? Your treat?" At this moment, Hongcai, just like Manzhen had just done, saw Manlu's stage makeup at very close range—her face was a riot of colors, two bright red cheeks, and two oily dark circles under her eyes. However, Hongcai felt not horror, but rather a little intoxicated, demonstrating the vast differences in perspectives between people.
That day, Hongcai took her out to dinner, and they came back together, fooling around until midnight before leaving. Manlu had a habit of eating late-night snacks, so Abao heated up some pan-fried buns and brought them in. As Manlu was eating, she suddenly heard footsteps upstairs and guessed that her mother must still be awake. She and her mother rarely had a chance to talk, so she took a plate of pan-fried buns, put on a black satin bathrobe embroidered with a yellow dragon, and went upstairs. Sure enough, her mother was sitting alone under the lamp, taking apart the quilt. Manlu said, "Mom, really—you're busy with this again at this time! Aren't you tired after sitting on the train all day? I brought the quilt with me, so I need to take it apart and wash it while the weather is sunny these past few days." Manlu offered her mother some pan-fried buns, took a bite of one herself, and suddenly looked at it suspiciously under the lamp. The meat filling was red. She said, "Damn it! The meat is still raw!" "Looking again, even the white skin was stained red, and I realized it was lipstick on her lips."
Her mother shared a room with Manzhen. Manlu glanced at Manzhen's bed and whispered, "Is she asleep? She's grown up; frankly, it's not good for a young girl like her to live with me, people will talk. I hope she finds a suitable person and gets married soon." Her mother sighed, "Who says otherwise?" Her mother really wanted to tell her about the handsome young man in the photo, but even her mother felt that Manzhen and she were from two different worlds, so it was best not to let her know for now. She'd ask Manzhen herself in more detail another day.
Manzhen's marriage problem is relatively easy to solve. Her mother said, "She's still young, waiting another two years won't hurt. But you, I get anxious just thinking about your situation." Manzhen sighed and said, "Don't worry about my affairs!"
Her mother said, "How can I control you? I'm just saying! You're getting old, you have no choice but to do this, can you do it for the rest of your life? You have to plan for yourself!" Manlu said, "I'm just living one day at a time. If I were looking forward, I wouldn't want to live!" Her mother said, "Oh, what are you saying?" As she spoke, she felt guilty and pulled out a large handkerchief from her side to wipe her tears, saying, "It's all my fault. If it weren't for me and your younger siblings, you wouldn't be in this situation. I'm thinking about you, your younger siblings are all grown up, and they'll all go their own way in the future—" Manlu impatiently cut her off, saying, "They're all grown up, they don't need me anymore, so you think I'm a disgrace? That's why you want me to get married! Now you want me to get married, who am I supposed to marry?" Her mother was speechless with anger after being scolded like that, and after a long while she finally said: "Look at you, child, I was trying to advise you, but you don't appreciate it!"
Both of them fell silent, only the sound of breathing from the person in the next room as they slept could be heard; the grandmother was snoring. Most elderly people snore.
Her mother suddenly said softly, "When I went back to the countryside this time, I heard that Zhang Mujin is doing very well now; he's become the director of the hospital in the county town." She sounded slightly hesitant when she mentioned Zhang Mujin's name, as it hadn't been spoken between her and her daughter for many years. Manlu had been engaged before. When she was seventeen, two relatives from her hometown, fleeing unrest in the area, came to Shanghai and stayed with her. They were relatives of her grandmother, surnamed Zhang, a woman with a son. Mrs. Zhang took a liking to Manlu and wanted her to be her daughter-in-law. Mrs. Zhang's son was named Mujin. Although Manlu and Mujin themselves didn't express any particular sentiment, they seemed quite willing. They became engaged. Later, Mrs. Zhang returned to the countryside, while Mujin remained in Shanghai to study, living in a dormitory. Manlu and he kept in touch and met often. Until her father died, and she became a dancer, they broke off the engagement; it was she who initiated it.
When her mother suddenly mentions him, she remains silent as if she doesn't hear her.
Her mother glanced at her, as if he wanted to stop talking, but couldn't help herself and blurted out, "I heard he's still not married. Do you think he'll still want me? Mom, you're so muddle-headed, still thinking about him?" She rattled off this long string of words, stood up, pushed her chair aside, and shuffled downstairs in her slippers. Her footsteps were heavy and clattering. This stopped her grandmother's snoring, and she asked Manlu's mother, "What's wrong?" Her mother replied, "Nothing." Her grandmother asked, "Why aren't you asleep yet?" Her mother said, "I'll be asleep soon."
He then tidied up his work and prepared to go to bed.
Just before getting into bed, she squinted, searching and searching, but couldn't find something. Manzhen couldn't help but speak up from the bed, "Mom, your slippers are on the box behind the door. I put them there because I was afraid they'd dust them while sweeping." Her mother said, "Oh, you're still not asleep? Did my talking to your sister wake you up? No, I'm not sleepy at all today."
Her mother brought the slippers and placed them by the bed, turned off the light, and got into bed. Hearing her grandmother snoring again from the other room, her mother sighed in the darkness and said to Manzhen, "What you just heard—I advised her to choose someone to marry, and that was a serious suggestion! And she got so angry with me for that one word." Manzhen remained silent for a while, then said, "Mom, don't say these things to my sister anymore. It's difficult for her to get married now."
However, things often turn out unexpectedly. Less than two weeks later, news spread that Manlu was getting married. It was told by Abao, the youngest maid who served her. The upstairs and downstairs neighbors in their family were always quite distant, and her mother knew almost everything about Manlu from Abao. Hearing that she was going to marry Zhu Hongcai, Abao said that this man, like Mr. Wang, made his living in the stock exchange, but he had always followed Mr. Wang and didn't have much money of his own.
Her mother had originally planned to ignore the matter, because her previous attempt to show concern had only provoked the girl's anger, and she didn't want to make a fool of herself again.
However, one day when Manzhen came home, her mother quietly told her, "I asked her about it today." Manzhen smiled and said, "Oh, didn't you say you weren't going to ask?"