She always gave him a perfunctory look when she saw him, but she never lost her dignity while being polite.
She turned around and called out, "Li Sheng, why aren't you pouring tea for the second young master?" Li Sheng replied from outside, "I'm pouring it here." She then nodded and smiled at Shi Jun, "Sit down for a while, Dad will be down soon. Little San'er, come and call your brother. Come here!" Her third child was coming downstairs with his schoolbag on his back. She beckoned him over and said, "Call your second brother!" The child was about the same age as Shi Jun's nephew. Shi Jun smiled and asked, "How old are you?" The aunt smiled and said, "Your second brother is asking you a question, speak up!" Shi Jun smiled and said, "I remember he stutters a little." The aunt smiled and said, "That's his brother. He's the third. Last time you saw him, you were still holding him!" Shi Jun said, "Children grow up so fast." The aunt said, "Indeed."
The concubine then took the child's hand and went out. From afar, one could hear her calling out, "Where's the coachman? Tell him to take the young master to school and be right back. Master wants a ride." She knew their conversation with the father and son wouldn't last long, and they wouldn't have any intimate conversations, but she was still very cautious. Although she left, she summoned the old woman's mother to sit in the main room. This old woman had always lived with her daughter, and although her daughter had been completely reformed and became a proper family woman, the mother's patriarchal air remained very strong. Shijun disliked her even more than the concubine. She probably knew this too, so she didn't come over to greet him. One could only hear her hurriedly sitting down in the main room and saying to a little girl, "Little Si, come here, Grandma will teach you how to fold tin foil! Look, fold it like this, then fold it like this—" The sounds of folding paper ingots and tossing them into the basket could be heard, so she could certainly hear the conversation in the guest room. Although she was old, her hearing was probably still good.
The ambush had just been set up when a familiar "Hehan!" rang out from the stairs. Shijun's father had come down. Although his father's cough sounded familiar, the man himself seemed somewhat unfamiliar. Shen Xiaotong strolled in, hands behind his back. Shijun stood up and called out, "Dad." Xiaotong nodded to him and said, "Please sit down. When did you get back?"
Shi Jun said, "I came back the day before yesterday." Xiao Tong said, "There have been a lot of rumors lately. Did you hear any news in Shanghai?" Then he began to talk at length about the current situation. Shi Jun didn't admire his insights at all. He was just an old-fashioned businessman. His opinions were all heard from other businessmen or bits and pieces from the newspapers.
After analyzing the national affairs one by one, Xiaotong remained silent for a while. He hadn't looked at Shijun's face the whole time, but suddenly said, "Why are you so tanned?" Shijun laughed, "It's probably from hiking every day since I got back." Xiaotong asked, "Did you come back on leave?" Shijun replied, "No, I didn't. This time it was the Double Ten Day holiday, which happened to be a long weekend, so I had several days off." He didn't ask him much about his profession because father and son had once had a major falling out over it. So, at this point, Xiaotong felt a sense of taboo and immediately changed the subject: "Your great-uncle is dead, do you know?"
Among their relatives were several elderly elders, whom Xiaotong held in great reverence. During the Lunar New Year, he would always visit these families with Shijun's mother, even though the couple rarely saw each other. Of course, it was absolutely unheard of for them to go out together as a couple. Now, all of these elders have passed away, leaving only his great-uncle, who is now also dead. From now on, Xiaotong will never again go out to visit relatives with his wife during the Lunar New Year.
Xiaotong recounted his great-uncle's stroke, saying, "It happened so fast..." Xiaotong himself also suffered from severe high blood pressure, and mentioning his great-uncle inevitably reminded him of his own condition. He was silent for a moment, then said, "I don't know where that prescription Dr. Liu gave me went. I'll have to find it tomorrow and buy some to take." Shijun asked, "Why doesn't Dad go see Dr. Liu again?" Xiaotong, always somewhat reluctant to seek medical help, declined, saying, "I don't even know if he's still in Nanjing."
Shi Jun said, "Yes. He's the one who treated Xiao Jian when he had a rash." Xiao Tong said, "Oh?"
"Xiao Jian has a rash?" Shi Jun thought to himself. "We both live in Nanjing, yet he asks me, someone from Shanghai, about these things. It shows how estranged he is from his family."
Xiao Tong said, "Xiao Jian is always sick. I don't know if he'll grow up to be a decent adult."
"Seeing him reminds me of your brother. Your brother has been dead for six years!" she said, suddenly bursting into tears. Shijun was quite taken aback. When he returned this time, he saw that his mother was somewhat incoherent, and he thought that his mother was getting old. Now his father was crying to him, which was something that had never happened before—was it also because of old age?
My brother has been dead for six years. When he died, my father wasn't so heartbroken. Why is he so sad now, six years later? Perhaps he feels old, that his brother's death has left him without an arm, and that his second son refuses to cooperate with him. Now, as he thinks of the dead, he is expressing a helpless longing to the living.
Shi Jun remained silent. In that instant, countless things came to mind: how his father had treated his mother, and how his mother's suffering had cast a shadow over his childhood. He recalled all of this to harden his heart.
The concubine called out loudly from upstairs, "Zhang Ma, please let Master answer the phone!" She called out "Zhang Ma," but was actually addressing him directly as "Master." Her call reminded Shijun that he didn't need to feel sorry for his father; his father had a warm family of his own. Xiaotong stood up to go upstairs to answer the phone, but Shijun said, "Dad, I'm leaving. I have something to do."
Shijun followed his father out. His aunt's mother smiled at him and said, "Second Young Master, why are you leaving already? Aren't you going to eat here?" At the top of the stairs, she turned and nodded to Shijun before going upstairs. Shijun then left.
Back home, his mother asked him, "What did your father say to you?" Shijun only said, "He talked about his great-uncle, saying he also has high blood pressure, and Dad seemed a little scared himself." Mrs. Shen said, "Yes, your father's condition, he's afraid of a stroke. I'm not cursing him, but I'm always worried that if you don't come back soon, he might not see him again!" Shijun thought to himself, his father must have thought the same thing, which is why he was so sad just now. This time back in Nanjing, because Shuhui was with him, his mother hadn't had a chance to shed tears for him. Unexpectedly, his father cried for him!
He asked his mother, "How's the household finances lately?" Mrs. Shen replied, "They've been alright so far, they've been sending money over every month. But... don't think I'm heartless, I keep thinking, what if your father dies one day? His money's all in that woman's hands." Shijun said, "Well... Dad will always have a plan, he'll always be prepared for that day..." Mrs. Shen smiled bitterly, "It's hard for us to even see each other! I'm not going to go like Qin Xuemei did to mourn him!"
Shijun knew his mother wasn't overthinking things. Such incidents often occurred among relatives; if a husband died at a concubine's house, the wife would want the body brought back, but the concubine wouldn't allow it, causing a huge commotion. In the end, the mansion would have to set up a separate mourning hall, and the funeral would proceed even without a coffin. This was a minor matter; the future issue of inheritance was a real headache. He hoped that by then he would be able to support his mother, sister-in-law, and nephew, so they wouldn't have to fight over the inheritance. Although he had this thought, he didn't want to offer empty words of comfort to his mother, so he only mechanically offered a few words of reassurance, saying, "Let's not worry unnecessarily." Mrs. Shen, seeing that this was his last day at home and wanting everyone to be happy, didn't bring up these matters again.
He left by train tonight, and spent the day taking Uncle Hui to two places. He went home in the afternoon and had dinner early. The eldest young mistress, holding Xiao Jian, laughed, "He's just gotten to know Second Uncle so well, and he's leaving again. Next time Second Uncle comes back, he'll be shy again!" Mrs. Shen thought: When he comes back, it'll be another year or two; the child will definitely be shy again. She forced a smile and said, "Xiao Jian, why don't you go to Shanghai with Second Uncle?"
"Are you going or not?" The eldest mistress also said, "Shanghai is great! Shall we go with Second Uncle?" When asked so persistently, Xiao Jian just snuggled into the eldest mistress's arms. The eldest mistress laughed and said, "You're so spineless!"
I still want my mom!
Shijun and Shuhui didn't bring much luggage when they came, but they left laden with gifts. Besides the usual fruit and snacks, Mrs. Shen bought two osmanthus-scented ducks for them, as it was the season for these ducks. There was also a large box of medicine, which she had forced Shijun to take for injections. She insisted on seeing them off at the station, but Shijun stopped her. Everyone in the family stood at the front door to see them off. Mrs. Shen smiled and wiped away tears, telling Shijun to "write to me as soon as he arrives."
As soon as they boarded the train, Shijun suddenly felt a sense of relief. They bought two Shanghai newspapers and lay down on their bunks to read. The train started moving, rumbling away from Nanjing, the lights of the ancient city gradually fading into the distance. People say it's a "train of the times," and the metaphor is truly apt; the train's journey really felt like a dramatic passage through an era. The old-fashioned atmosphere of Shijun's home, those tragic figures, those unbearable sorrows—all were left behind. The train rumbled into the darkness.
Shuhui slept in the upper bunk, while Shijun, hiding below, saw that one of Shuhui's feet was dangling over the edge of the bunk, the sole of his leather shoe covered in a layer of yellow mud, with a ring of fuzzy grass clippings around the edge. This must be what "traveling clogs" looked like, right? Shijun knew he wasn't a good travel companion. This time back in Nanjing, for some reason, he was always so restless, rushing through everything, just wanting to get away as quickly as possible, as if he had another appointment.
The next morning, upon arriving in Shanghai, Shijun said, "Let's go straight to the factory." He wanted to go as early as possible so he could see Manzhen sooner and not have to wait until mealtime. Shuhui asked, "How's your luggage?" Shijun replied, "I'll take it with me first and leave it in your office." He helped deliver the luggage to Shuhui's office precisely so he could see Manzhen.
Shu Hui said, "Everything else is fine, but these two ducks are so oily, there's nowhere to put them. I think we should send them back. I'll go make the trip, you go first."
Shijun took the bus to the factory alone. When he got off, he checked his watch; it was only a little before eight. Manzhen certainly hadn't arrived yet. He paced back and forth at the bus stop. It was still quite early, and he knew Manzhen wouldn't be here anytime soon, but he was anxious and calculating the time. Perhaps Shuhui would arrive soon. If Shuhui were on the next bus, jumped off, and saw him, who had arrived a quarter of an hour early, still here, wouldn't that be strange?
The thought made him feel uneasy, and he immediately turned and headed towards the factory. There was a fruit stand near the bus stop. Shijun had eaten several oranges on the train; he couldn't even finish all the fruit his family had brought for them. But as he passed the fruit stand, he stopped, bought two oranges, peeled them, and stood there slowly eating them. After finishing the two oranges, he felt he couldn't linger any longer; Shuhui could arrive at any moment. And why hadn't Manzhen arrived yet? Had she already arrived and was in her office? Why was he waiting here like an idiot? This thought, though extremely illogical, compelled him to immediately head towards the factory, and this time, he walked very quickly.
Halfway there, he suddenly heard someone call out from behind, "Hey!" He turned around and saw Manzhen, who was walking towards him with a smile in the morning sunlight, her hair tousled by the wind. Seeing her immediately brightened his mood. She smiled and said, "You're back?" Manzhen added, "Just arrived?" Shijun replied, "Yes, just got off the train."
Manzhen looked at his face intently. Shijun touched his face somewhat nervously and laughed, "I just washed my face haphazardly on the train, I don't even know if it's clean." Manzhen laughed, "No—" She looked at him again and laughed, "You're still the same. I always feel like you'd change after going back for a while. Could you really change in just a few days?" However, he himself felt that he hadn't just been gone for a few days, but had returned from a very far place.
Manzhen asked, "How is your mother? Is everyone at home doing well?" Shijun replied, "Everyone is doing well." Manzhen asked, "Did they say anything when they saw your suitcase?" Shijun smiled and said, "Nothing." Manzhen smiled and said, "Didn't they say you packed your suitcase well?" Shijun smiled and said, "No."
As they walked and talked, Shijun suddenly stopped and said, "Manzhen!" Seeing that he seemed to be in a difficult position, Manzhen asked, "What's wrong?" Shijun remained silent and continued walking forward.
A series of misfortunes flashed through her mind: something happened to his family—he was going to quit his job—his family had arranged a marriage for him—he had fallen in love with someone, or perhaps a former girlfriend he had run into again when he went back home.
She asked again, "What?" He said, "Nothing." She fell silent.
Shijun said, "I didn't bring a raincoat, and it just so happens to be raining." Manzhen said, "Oh, is it raining in Nanjing? It's not raining here. We always go out during the day. But we go out at night too, even on rainy days." He realized he was rambling a bit, so he suddenly stopped.
Manzhen seemed genuinely anxious, looking at him with a smile and asking, "What's wrong?" Shijun replied, "Nothing. — Manzhen, I have something to tell you." Manzhen said, "Go ahead." Shijun said, "I have a lot to tell you."
In fact, he had already said it. She had already heard it. Her face was completely still, but he could tell she was very happy. Suddenly, a light shone through the world, and everything could be seen with exceptional clarity and precision. He had never felt so clear-headed in his life, like sitting down during an exam, looking at the questions, and knowing that he knew all the answers—a feeling of excitement mixed with a strange sense of peace.
Manzhen's expression suddenly changed. She smiled and greeted Mr. Chen, the factory manager, as he walked past them. They had already arrived at the factory gate. Manzhen hurriedly said to Shijun, "I'm late today, and you're late too. See you later." She rushed inside and ran upstairs.
Shijun was naturally happy, but after a morning of repeated contemplation, his confidence gradually faded. He regretted not having been clearer in his words to get a more definitive answer. He had always thought Manzhen was good to him, but now, recalling her expressions of affection one by one, he felt they were unreliable, perhaps stemming from friendship, or simply from her naiveté.
During dinner, the three of them were together again. Manzhen continued to chat and laugh as usual, acting as if nothing had happened. In Shijun's mind, even if she didn't love him, his actions that morning should have elicited some reaction from her—a little embarrassment, a little stiffness—he didn't know how women behaved in such situations, but surely she wouldn't be completely indifferent? If she did love him, her composure was even more astonishing. Women, sometimes when calm, are practically inhuman. And they're truly skilled actresses. Perhaps every woman is an actress in disguise.
After leaving the restaurant, Shuhui went to the cigarette shop to buy a pack of cigarettes. Shijun and Manzhen waited for him a little distance away. Shijun said to her, "Manzhen, what I said this morning was too unclear." However, he couldn't explain it any further. He looked down at their shadows in the autumn sun. There were many fallen leaves by the roadside. He brushed them aside with his toe, picked up the largest, yellowish leaf, and crushed it with a "crunch."
Manzhen avoided looking at him. She glanced at Shuhui's back and said, "Let's talk about it later. Come to my house later."
That evening, he came to her house. After work, she had some things to do; she had to teach at a school from six to seven o'clock. After dinner, she had to go to another place to tutor two children. Shijun was very familiar with her daily routine, so he could only go to her place during dinner time, and perhaps then they could exchange a few words.
He rang the doorbell at 7:10 at the back door of the Gu family home. The Gu family had rented out the downstairs apartment, so it was the tenant's elderly maid who answered the door. The maid was busy cooking, making a great commotion, and only called upstairs once: "Mrs. Gu, you have guests!"
Since the last time Shijun brought friends to see the house, he hadn't come back much. Because his family was large, the quiet and avoidance that came with guests made him feel uneasy, especially with the children. Children are naturally active and never quiet for a moment, so how could they be so silent?
That day, Shijun heard them laughing and talking loudly upstairs from the stairs. An older child shouted, "So noisy! People are doing their homework here!" Books, a ruler, and a set square were scattered haphazardly on the table in front of him. Manzhen's grandmother, holding a pair of chopsticks, pushed his things aside and said, "Hey, time to pack up!"
"We need to make room for the bowls and chopsticks." The child just kept working on his geometry and trigonometry, without even looking up.
When Manzhen's grandmother turned around, she saw Shijun and quickly said with a smile, "Oh, we have a guest!" Shijun smiled and said, "Grandma." He went into the room and saw Manzhen's mother cutting the children's hair. He nodded to her and said, "Auntie, has Manzhen returned yet?" Mrs. Gu smiled and said, "She'll be back soon. Please sit down. I'll pour some tea."
Shijun repeatedly said he didn't deserve such praise. Mrs. Gu put down the scissors to pour tea. A child cried out, "Mom, my neck is so itchy!" Mrs. Gu said, "There's some hair stuck in there." She grabbed his collar, turned it inside out, and carefully dusted it off under the lamplight. Old Mrs. Gu picked up a broom and said, "Look at all this hair on the floor!" Mrs. Gu quickly took the broom and laughed, "I'll do it, I'll do it. It's really like having a guest sweep the floor!" Old Mrs. Gu said, "Don't sweep up a bunch of hair on someone's feet! Let Mr. Chen sit over there."