Zhou Qishen turned his head to the side.
Zhao Xiyin looked up, her gaze initially flickering with hesitation, but once they met eyes, it settled down, pure and earnest, as she tried to gather her courage.
"My dad is very good at making braised pork."
Zhou Qishen looked at her.
Zhao Xiyin asked softly, "Would you like to come to my house and try some?"
The first time he met Zhao Wenchun, Teacher Zhao cooked a table full of meat for him. Whether intentionally or unintentionally, he managed to make him vomit.
He first kissed Xiyin in his hometown of Xi'an. It was winter, during the first snowfall, and swallows were flying under the eaves.
Their wedding home was in Courtyard No. 1 on the East Third Ring Road. Before the proposal, the homeowner was only listed as Zhao Xiyin.
During their first time making love, Zhou Qishen was naked, pressing down on her, kissing her deeply and lingeringly, his gaze devout and loving, saying, "Wife, I love you."
The master bedroom has a floor-to-ceiling window on the east side. At night, the city lights of the CBD are reflected in clusters of dazzling shadows, and intertwined figures are faintly visible on the glass. The beauty of the night view of Beijing is at its most splendid climax at this moment.
In fact, the major urban development around Guomao hasn't changed much in the past two years. Zhou Qishen drove around and around the Third Ring Road elevated highway. The streetlights ended in darkness, like a huge net descending, pressing in with scene after scene of memories. They shuttled through Zhou Qishen's mind, converging into a knot that pressed down on him, suffocating him.
The final chapter of those beautiful memories was that afternoon.
Zhao Xiyin's eyes were filled with tears, shock, and fear. Zhou Qishen grabbed her hand, his eyes red and swollen, his voice hoarse, every word he uttered was a sound of heartbreak.
He said, "Xiyin, will you love me just once?"
The white Land Rover, like a sharpened sword, sped along at 100 miles per hour at 2 a.m.
Zhou Qishen slammed on the brakes, jerked the steering wheel, and the car lurched violently before coming to a screeching halt at the roadside. He braced his hands on the dashboard, slowly bent over, and buried his face in his arms. Cold sweat soaked into the cuffs of his shirt, leaving a damp patch on the silk fabric.
It took Zhou Qishen a long time to slowly straighten up.
He leaned back in his seat, tilted his head slightly, and took a cigarette from the glove compartment. The window slid down halfway, letting in a gust of wind; the crimson glow of the cigarette tip flickered like a small volcano about to erupt. Zhou Qishen pressed the CD button, playing the song on repeat. He crushed the cigarette butt with his fingertip, then slowly closed his eyes.
That's a very old Cantonese song.
"A Lifetime of Love".
Chapter 5 The Old Testament (1)
Old Testament (1)
Ever since she met Zhou Qishen that day, Zhao Xiyin has been having trouble sleeping, suffering from insomnia at night and having many dreams during the day.
Zhao Wenchun repeatedly urged, "Go see a doctor."
Zhao Xiyin sat on the sofa, rubbing her temples absently. The curtains were open, and the ten o'clock sunlight was glaringly bright. She ran her fingers through her hair; her dark circles were even more pronounced.
Zhao Wenchun, wearing an apron and holding a large spatula, looked like she wanted to whack her daughter on the head, yelling, "Did you hear me?!"
Zhao Xiyin grinned, "That's really fierce."
After finishing breakfast, Zhao Wenchun hesitated, his eyes darting around, and stammered, "They called this morning and want you to come over for lunch today."
Zhao Xiyin applied lipstick in front of the mirror, remaining silent for a long time. Finally, she said, "I understand."
Zhao Xiyin took the subway to Changping.
This development is very new, a low-density, high-end project with lush greenery, like a park. Ni Rui, an eighteen or nineteen-year-old girl, opened the door for her; she had an air of arrogance about her and acted as if she didn't see anyone.
"You don't know any better. Greet people." The speaker was the male homeowner, Ni Xingzhuo, a tall and steady man who, despite being over fifty, still possessed an elegant demeanor.
He is Ni Rui's father, Ding Yahe's first love, and her current husband.
Ni Rui was unhappy and greeted her perfunctorily, "Sister."
The three stood there, filled with awkwardness. Ding Yahe came out of the kitchen, her peony-patterned tassel shawl making her look elegant and dazzling. "You're here. Come in."
Zhao Xiyin silently changed her shoes, gently placed the cake on the table, and said in a soft but not loud voice, "Mom, happy birthday."
Ding Yahe nodded, "Auntie is cooking fish, dinner will be ready soon."
"It's okay, I'm not hungry."
Ding Yahe said unhappily, "You didn't even tell me you were going back to Beijing."
Zhao Xiyin said, "I decided to go back at the last minute, and I've only been back for a few days."
"Will you look for a job after you come back?"
"Let's see. I'll go help out at my friend's shop first."
“That’s not a long-term solution. You can’t just drift around like this forever.” Ding Yahe became increasingly dissatisfied. “I don’t know what you were thinking. You didn’t want to work in administration at the theater before.”
Zhao Xiyin smiled and said, "It's not related to my major."
"What do you mean by 'related to your major'? Dancing? You don't dance anymore, you're just picking and choosing." Ding Yahe got angrier as she spoke. "Just like Zhao Wenchun, they're both blockheads. Last year, when they were evaluating professors in their department, those with less seniority than him became full professors. He's been an associate professor his whole life, can't he even pull some strings? I've never seen such an obtuse person."
Ni Rui sat on the armrest of the sofa playing on her phone, her gaze secretly drifting towards Zhao Xiyin, a slight, disdainful smile playing on her lips.
Ding Yahe has a fiery temper, and after so many years of pampered life, her sense of superiority has only grown stronger. After nagging enough, she called Zhao Xiyin upstairs.
The 300-square-meter duplex was luxuriously decorated, with a carpeted master bedroom that connected to a walk-in closet. Ding Yahe took out several paper bags. "I bought some dresses. Take these and wear them. You're so young, can't you wear something a little brighter?"
Zhao Xiyin accepted it.
"Here, take this bag too, and put it in this big bag. Don't let Xiaorui see it, or she'll start nagging me again." Ding Yahe handed her a new early autumn LV bag.