He came in too. Shijun let his mother go first, and he followed behind her upstairs. This was the first time he had seen his mother through someone else's eyes, seeing her bloated body and pale face. She struggled to climb the stairs, and she tried her best to appear calm, as if she had come here to fulfill her duty.
Shijun had never been upstairs before. The upstairs bedroom still retained much of the concubine's former "business extravagance" style, with a pile of mahogany furniture filling the room, along with some homely touches: pale green cotton curtains, white sheer curtains, and pale green walls. The room was somewhat cluttered because of the patient. Xiaotong slept alone in a double bed, with a small iron bed that seemed to have been temporarily set up. The concubine was leaning against the headboard of Xiaotong's bed, feeding him orange juice with a small silver spoon, holding his head in her arms. Xiaotong wondered if he considered this a display of affection. His wife entered, and the concubine merely raised her eyelids, softly greeting him, "Madam," before continuing to feed him orange juice. Xiaotong didn't even lift his eyelids. Madam Chen, however, smiled at him and said, "Look who's here!" The concubine laughed, "Oh, the second young master is here!"
Shijun called out, "Dad." Xiaotong said with difficulty, "Oh, you're here. How many days off did you take?" Madam Chen said, "Don't talk. Didn't the doctor tell you not to talk too much?" She touched his lips to his, but he shook his head in annoyance, showing a bored expression. The concubine laughed, "Not eating anymore?" The more he acted like this, the more she wanted to show off her gentleness and thoughtfulness, pulling down the snow-white silk handkerchief tucked into her clothes to wipe his mouth, and then moving his pillow and pulling the blankets up.
Xiaotong then asked Shijun, "When are you going back?" Mrs. Shen replied, "Don't worry, he won't leave, as long as you don't say too much." Xiaotong then fell silent again.
Shijun looked at his father and barely recognized him, partly because of his thinness, and partly because his father was lying in bed without his glasses, which seemed very unusual. His aunt, upon learning he had arrived by night train, quickly said, "Second Young Master, please sit here. You haven't rested since you got off the train." She led him to a sofa chair by the window, and Shijun picked up a newspaper to read. Madam Chen sat in a chair in front of Xiaotong's bed; the room was quiet. A child downstairs started crying loudly, and the aunt's mother called up from downstairs, "Auntie, come and hold him." The aunt, who was squeezing orange juice with a small glass juicer, muttered, "An old man and a young man, it's driving me crazy! The old man is so fussy, squeezing orange juice for everyone, and complaining that it's not clean enough when others squeeze it."
She bustled about, and soon an old maid brought in a large plate of fried noodles and two sets of chopsticks and bowls. The concubine followed behind, smiling as she urged the mistress and the second young master to eat. Shijun said, "I'm not hungry, I already ate at home." The concubine repeatedly said, "Eat a little." Seeing that his mother wasn't touching her chopsticks, and he wasn't eating either, Shijun seemed a little embarrassed, so he picked up his chopsticks and ate a little. His father lay in bed, simply watching him eat, seemingly feeling a simple satisfaction, a faint smile appearing on his lips. Shijun ate the greasy fried noodles beside his father's sickbed, but a strange, poignant feeling welled up inside him.
Lunch was also arranged at the concubine's request, with a separate table set up for Mrs. Shen and the second young master to eat in the master's room. Shijun sat in that room for the entire day. Mrs. Shen wanted to tell him to go home and rest early, but Xiaotong said, "Shijun, stay here tonight."
Hearing this, the concubine was quite unwilling, but she laughed and said, "Oh dear, we don't even have a proper bed. I wonder if the second young master can get used to sleeping here!" Xiaotong pointed to the small iron bed where the concubine slept, and the concubine said, "Sleeping in this room? You'll be asking for tea and water at night, won't that exhaust the second young master? He's not used to doing these things." Xiaotong remained silent. The concubine looked at his face and could only laugh and say, "Well then, if anything happens, the second young master can just call someone. I can sleep a little more soundly."
The concubine directed the maids to remove the bedding from her bed. She slept in the same bed as the two children, and changed the bedding for Shijun, saying, "Second young master will have to make do on this small bed, but the bedding is all newly made and clean."
The lamplight illuminated the apple-green walls. Shijun, sleeping in this room brimming with the affection of a loving couple, felt strange about how he had ended up here. His concubine had come in countless times throughout the night, showering him with concern, serving him tea, medicine, and helping him with his diaper changes. Shijun felt rather guilty; it was all because he had spent the night here, causing her to waste so many steps. He opened his eyes to look at her, and she smiled, "Second Young Master, don't move, let me do it. I'm used to doing this." She was still sleepy, her hair disheveled, and her cheongsam unbuttoned, revealing a red checkered blouse underneath. Shijun dared not look at her, for he suddenly remembered the story of Fengyi Pavilion. Perhaps she was trying to create an opportunity to falsely accuse him of harassing her. He had held this belief since childhood, always thinking of his concubine as a cunning and wicked woman. Then he thought again, she was probably worried about the iron box in the corner, fearing some illicit affair between father and son, hence her repeated visits to check it.
When Mrs. Shen returned home that day, she noticed that Shijun's appetite wasn't very good, assuming he couldn't get used to the food at the small mansion. The next day, when she came back, she brought some vegetarian goose and lettuce dumplings made at home. These lettuce dumplings were exquisitely made; the pickled lettuce was arranged in long strips, coiled into a dark green pancake, and topped with a dried red rose. She smiled at Shijun, saying, "Yesterday at home for breakfast, I saw you eat several of these; I thought you might like them." Xiaotong saw them and wanted some too. He ate porridge with these pickled vegetables, which was perfect for him. He ate with relish, saying, "I haven't had this in years!" The concubine was furious upon hearing this.
Xiaotong has been feeling much better these past two days. One day, the accountant came. Although Xiaotong is ill, there are still many business matters he needs to oversee, and some things he must consult him on. He's the only one who keeps the accounts, and he has all the figures memorized perfectly. The accountant sat close to the bedside, bowing low, and Xiaotong explained everything to him in a very soft voice. After the accountant left, Shijun said, "Father, I don't think you should be working so hard. The doctor will definitely say something if he finds out." Xiaotong sighed and said, "I just can't bear to do it! What can I do? This illness has made me realize that everything is fake, and none of the people I work with are trustworthy!"
Shijun knew this was his temperament; any further persuasion would only provoke more complaints. He would say that as long as he had a breath left in his body, he had to work every day, otherwise, what would his family eat? In reality, why was he in such dire straits, as if his family depended entirely on his work for survival? He was simply suffering from the common flaw of many businessmen: he was too obsessed with money, placing all his energy on it, and thus, he was always preoccupied with it.
The telephone in his small mansion was in the bedroom, and Shijun answered the phone for him twice. Once, there was a matter to discuss, so he said to Shijun, "Why don't you go?" Mrs. Shen smiled and asked, "Is he capable?" Xiaotong smiled and said, "He's been around before; if he can't even handle this, how can he be competent?" Shijun had run errands for his father twice in a row. His father didn't say anything to his face, but behind his back, he praised him to his mother, "He's quite meticulous. He's very thoughtful." Mrs. Shen took the opportunity to happily relay this to Shijun. Shijun was originally an amateur in these matters, and he wasn't very familiar with interpersonal relationships. Back in Shanghai, he suffered because of this, so he wasn't very popular at the factory, and he often worried about it. But here, because he was Mr. Shen's son, everyone fawned over him, and things went particularly smoothly for him, which naturally made him feel very happy.
Gradually, everything fell on his shoulders. Whenever the accountant needed the master's instructions, Xiaotong would smugly reply, "Go ask the second young master! He's in charge now, I don't care anymore. Go ask him!"
Shijun has suddenly become an important figure. As soon as his concubine's mother saw him, she said, "Second Young Master, you've lost weight these past few days. You must be exhausted! Second Young Master is so filial!" His concubine also said, "With Second Young Master here, Master is much better. Otherwise, he would be worrying all day long!" His concubine's mother added, "Second Young Master, don't be shy. Just tell me what you need. Our aunt has been so anxious lately that she hasn't been taking good care of us!" The mother and daughter addressed each other with "Second Young Master" repeatedly, but secretly they were filled with great panic. The concubine said to her mother, "Even if the old man died right now, it would be too late! He's taken over all the shop's affairs. No wonder people say businessmen have no conscience; they only care about money and their sons. Isn't that true? We've been husband and wife for over ten years, and he hasn't thought about me at all!" Her mother said, "Don't be angry. Try to be gentle with him. To be honest, he's always treated you well; he's actually quite afraid of you. That year he went to Shanghai to play with dancers, and when you confronted him, things were fine, weren't they?"
But this time the matter was a bit tricky. After much thought, the concubine decided that only her children could win him over. That very day, she brought her youngest son to Xiaotong's room, smiling, "You've been pestering me to see your father. Here he is! Didn't you say you missed him?" For some reason, the child suddenly became awkward, standing by Xiaotong's bed, just clutching the sheets with his head down. Xiaotong reached out and touched his face, but his heart ached. Middle-aged people often experience this loneliness, feeling that when they open their eyes, everyone is dependent on them, but there is no one they can truly rely on, not even someone to confide in. That's why he relied so heavily on Shijun.
Shijun had long wanted to return to Shanghai. He quietly told his mother his thoughts, and she pleaded with him to stay a few more days. Shijun also felt that his father's illness had only just improved, and he couldn't bear to give him such a blow. So he didn't mention leaving, only saying he wanted to stay at home. Staying in the small mansion was really awkward. Other things were secondary; the first problem was the terrible environment for reading and writing letters. Manzhen's letters arrived at his home, brought there by his mother, but he still hadn't been able to write her a proper long letter.
Shijun told his father that he wanted to move back home. His father nodded and said, "I also want to live there. It's a quieter area, and it's more suitable for recuperating." He then looked at his concubine and said, "She's always been getting up early and going to bed late, and she's gotten sick from exhaustion. I want her to get some rest." His concubine had caught a chill at night and developed a cough. Moreover, she was constantly on guard against the old man handing over the things in the iron box to Shijun, and one person's energy was limited, so she couldn't take care of everything.
Suddenly, she heard the old man say that he was moving away. Her face turned pale, and she didn't say a word.
Mrs. Shen was also stunned. After a pause, she smiled and said, "You're just feeling a bit better. Aren't you afraid of overworking yourself?" Xiaotong said, "That's alright. I'll call a car later, and Shijun and I will go back together." Mrs. Shen smiled and said, "Going back today?" Xiaotong had actually been thinking of this for a long time, but he hadn't dared to say it before, afraid that his aunt would make a fuss. He thought he would wait until the last minute and then leave immediately. So he smiled and said, "Is it possible to make it today? Why don't you go back first and have them tidy up the house? We'll come back later." Mrs. Shen agreed, but she and Shijun exchanged a glance, both thinking, "We're not even sure if we can make it."
After Madam Shen left, the concubine sneered and said, "Hmph, what a nice thing to say, telling me to rest!" Her eyes reddened as she spoke. Xiaotong simply kept her eyes closed, looking very tired. Seeing this, Shijun knew a quarrel was inevitable, and being caught in the middle was inconvenient. He immediately went downstairs, pretending to ask Li Sheng to buy an evening newspaper. The servants were whispering and chattering, seemingly very nervous; they probably already knew the master was moving. Shijun paced back and forth in the guest room, hearing the maids calling out, "Master called for Li Sheng. Li Sheng went to buy a newspaper for the second young master." A moment later, Li Sheng returned, bringing the newspaper to the guest room. A maid followed, saying, "Master is calling for you. He wants you to call a car." It was very slow; he turned the evening newspaper over and over two or three times before he heard the car horn. Li Sheng said to a maid outside, "Go up and tell them." "Go, go, go and tell them! What's there to be afraid of?" The maid came into the guest room, hands hanging at her sides, and reported, "Second Young Master, the carriage has arrived."
Shi Jun remembered he had some clothes and miscellaneous belongings in his father's room and needed to tidy them up, so he went back upstairs. Before he even reached the door, he heard his aunt shouting from inside, "What? You're taking all this stuff out, planning to take it all? No way! Are you planning to abandon us, mother and children? Not coming back? Aren't these children your children?" Xiao Tong's voice was also urgent, saying, "I'm not dead yet! Wherever I am, of course my things will be there, just for convenience! But—let me tell you, it's not that convenient!" Immediately afterward, there was a snatching sound, followed by a loud thud. Shi Jun was genuinely startled, thinking that if his father fell again and had a second stroke, he would be beyond saving. He couldn't stand idly by any longer, so he rushed into the room. Thankfully, his father was sitting on the sofa, panting, saying, "Are you trying to kill me or what?" "The iron box was open, and stocks, bankbooks and warehouse receipts were scattered all over the floor. It seems that he had just shakily reached out to open the iron box to get something, and his concubine got anxious and started pulling and tugging at him. He stumbled forward, but luckily he didn't fall, though he did push a chair to the ground."
The concubine turned pale with fright, but still stubbornly insisted, "Then think about it yourself, have you treated me well? I've taken care of you properly these past few days while you were sick, and you just leave like that? You're bullying me!" She turned and sat down, sobbing against the back of the chair. Her mother came in at this moment, patting her shoulder and advising, "Don't be so stubborn, it's not like the master is never coming back! Silly girl!" These words were, of course, meant for the master, to show that her daughter loved him deeply, but ever since the concubine had tried to seize the stocks and savings account, Xiaotong had also felt somewhat disheartened.
Taking advantage of the chaos in the room, he shouted, "Aunt Zhou! Aunt Wang! Has the car arrived yet? Why didn't you say so? You scoundrels! Help me downstairs quickly." Shijun picked out a few important items from his own belongings and followed behind, going downstairs and getting into the car together.
Back home, Mrs. Shen was surprised to find them arriving so early. The house wasn't ready yet, so she had the coachman and maids help her husband upstairs and set him down. She gave him her own bed and made a makeshift cot for herself. They hadn't brought all the medicine, so they called a doctor to prescribe new medication. They also busied themselves preparing snacks for Shijun and a particularly lavish dinner. The servants, used to the quiet of the house, were overwhelmed and flustered. Even the eldest daughter-in-law, constantly following her mother-in-law around, was exhausted, her hair disheveled and her voice hoarse.
This scene of "father's return" may have a somewhat desolate feel, but it ended up being spent in a flurry of activity.
That evening, after Shijun had gone to bed, Mrs. Shen came to his room again. The mother and son hadn't been able to have a proper conversation these past few days. Mrs. Shen asked him in detail about what had happened before he left, but Shijun didn't tell her about his father almost falling, afraid of frightening her. Mrs. Shen laughed, "I kept it to myself and didn't dare tell you. As soon as you said you wanted to move back, I thought to myself, with your father always being so good to you, that woman must be spitting fire in her eyes. If you left, she might just murder the old man!" Shijun smiled and said, "It can't be that bad, can it?"
Xiaotong's return was a stroke of good fortune for Mrs. Shen, entirely thanks to her son. Her pride was palpable. He was back, but his feelings for her remained unchanged. There was no possibility of reconciliation, but in any case, he couldn't refuse her care during his illness, and she was content with that.
Strangely enough, the family immediately came alive with the arrival of this new patient. Many paintings and calligraphy that had been stored away in boxes were taken out and hung up, a large carpet was laid out, and new curtains were made, because Mrs. Shen said that since the master had returned, guests often came to visit and seek medical attention, so it was necessary to make the house look presentable.
Xiaotong had two beloved antique ornaments that he had left at the small mansion, which he missed. He sent a servant to retrieve them, but his concubine, in a fit of pique, refused to give them to him. Xiaotong flew into a rage, smashing a teacup and pounding the bed, yelling, "You bastards! You can't even do this simple thing! Just tell her I want them, and she dares not give them to me!" It was Madam Shen who repeatedly persuaded him, "Don't get angry over such a small thing, it's not worth it! Didn't the doctor tell you not to be anxious?" This set of fine porcelain teacups was part of her dowry, which she had always been reluctant to use. She had only recently taken them out to use, and as soon as she did, Xiaojian smashed one of them, and now she had smashed another. Madam Shen smiled and said, "I'll have the fortunes told for the remaining ones!"
Because Xiaotong had once praised her lettuce dumplings, Mrs. Shen was making all sorts of preserved and cured foods this year: bamboo shoots and beans, sausages, sausages, pickled vegetables, and fermented gluten. Even though the New Year was still far off, she was already planning a grand celebration. She even took out money to make new blue cloth jackets for all the servants. Shijun had never seen her so happy. For almost his entire life, he had only seen his mother with a melancholy face. He was used to her weeping and wailing, and could now remain unmoved. It was precisely this extreme joy she was displaying now that made him feel so sorry for her.
Father won't necessarily stop visiting his concubine's side. They'll still meet, of course. And when they do, they'll inevitably use their sowing-difference tactics again, and their attitude towards us will turn cold again. If Shijun were in Nanjing, things would be better; Father seems to need him now. He'll be very disappointed if he leaves. Mother has been urging him not to leave, to quit his job in Shanghai. He'd never considered quitting before, but lately he's been thinking about it a lot. If he really quits, it will be a huge blow to Manzhen. She values his future so much; she's willing to endure any hardship for his career. And now he's giving it up voluntarily—it seems so unfair—how can he face her?
He used to eagerly await Manzhen's letters, but now he's almost afraid to see them.
www/xiaoshuotxt.co m
Eighteen Springs
Shijun told his family that he had decided to resign from his job because of the matter in Shanghai, and that he also had some unfinished business to attend to. He returned to Shanghai, stayed overnight at Shuhui's house, and the next morning went to the factory to see the factory manager, handing in a formal resignation letter. He then went to his previous workplace to explain things clearly. It was lunchtime when he went upstairs to find Manzhen. He hadn't discussed his resignation with her beforehand, because he knew she would object, so he decided to act first and inform her later.
As soon as he entered the office, he saw Manzhen's old, light gray sheepskin coat draped over the back of her chair. She was hunched over her desk, copying some document. The desk that Shuhui used to use was now occupied by another clerk, who, imitating their manager's American style, had one leg propped up on the desk, casually displaying his striped socks and leather shoes—the soles of which were clearly unfinished. He greeted Shijun and continued reading his newspaper with his leg propped up. Manzhen turned around and smiled, "Oh, when did you get back?" Shijun walked to her desk and, as if to strike up a conversation, bent down to see what she was writing. She seemed to be keeping it a secret, covering both sides with other papers, leaving only the two lines in the middle exposed. Upon noticing this, she simply covered them completely, but he could already tell it was a letter to him. He smiled; in front of others, it wasn't appropriate to insist on seeing it. He stood, leaning on the desk for support. He said, "Let's go out to eat together." Manzhen glanced at the clock and said, "Okay, let's go." He picked up the letter, folded it, and put it in his coat pocket. Manzhen smiled but didn't say anything. Only after they went outside did she say, "Give it back to me." "You're already here, why are you still writing a letter?" he said, a smile spreading across his face as he read. Seeing this, Manzhen couldn't help but lean closer to see where he was looking. Upon seeing it, she blushed and snatched the letter away, saying, "I'll read it later. Take it back to read." Shijun laughed, "Okay, okay, I won't read it. Give it back to me, I'll keep it."
Manzhen asked him about his father's illness, and Shijun gave a brief account. Then he slowly told her about his resignation, starting from the beginning. He told her that on his recent trip back to Nanjing, he was so anxious on the train that he didn't sleep a wink, worried that if his father's illness worsened, his mother, sister-in-law, and nephew would immediately become a burden on him—a heavy responsibility. Fortunately, this opportunity arose; his father needed him greatly and entrusted him with everything. This allowed him to wrest control of the finances from his concubine, thus securing the future of his mother and widowed sister-in-law. For this reason, he had no choice but to resign. Of course, this was only a temporary measure; he would still need to return to work in the future.
He had prepared his words long ago, speaking them tactfully, but he still couldn't express his true predicament. For example, his mother's recent happiness was like that of a poor child who had found a broken toy and treasured it. This pitiful happiness was something he had created, and having given it to her, he couldn't bear to take it back. There was another reason, one he couldn't tell Manzhen, and even refused to admit to himself—their marriage. The truth was, if he inherited his father's business, everything would be easy; after marriage, supporting his in-laws wouldn't be a problem. Conversely, if he didn't seize this opportunity, his mother, sister-in-law, and nephew would inevitably depend on him for support. He and Manzhen each had their own family burdens; she didn't want to burden him, so marriage was out of the question, practically a distant dream. He felt he had waited long enough; the anguish in his heart was something she could never understand.
There was another layer to it. He hadn't originally felt any anxiety or insecurity towards Manzhen, but ever since what happened with Mu Jin, he'd never been able to let go of the past. People say that prolonged worry breeds trouble, and he now felt there might be some truth to that. He couldn't tell her any of this, and Manzhen, of course, didn't understand why he had suddenly compromised with his family and resigned without even consulting her. She felt deeply pained; she valued his career so much, willing to sacrifice anything for it, yet he treated it so lightly. She had originally intended to explain this to him, but seeing his ashamed expression, she couldn't bear to condemn him further. So, she maintained a smile and only asked, "Did you tell Shuhui?" Shijun smiled and said, "Yes, I told him." Manzhen smiled and asked, "What did he say?" Shijun smiled and said, "He said it was a pity."
Manzhen smiled and said, "He said that too?" Shijun glanced at her and smiled slightly, "I know you must be very unhappy." Manzhen smiled and said, "And you, you're very happy, aren't you? You've moved to Nanjing, and we won't see each other anymore, but you don't care anyway." Seeing that she was only focused on her romantic feelings and didn't righteously rebuke him for giving up on himself, Shijun felt relieved and smiled, "I'll come to Shanghai once a week from now on, okay? This is only temporary, so it has to be like this for now. Don't I want to see you?"
He lingered in Shanghai for two or three days, during which they met every day. On the surface, everything seemed the same as before, but as soon as he left her, he realized something was amiss. So, as soon as he returned to Nanjing, he immediately wrote a letter. It read: "I really want to see you again, but I just came, and I can't find an excuse to come to Shanghai again in the next few days. How about this? You and Shuhui come to Nanjing for a weekend. You've never been to Nanjing before. My parents and sister-in-law—I often talk to you about them; you must feel very familiar with them. I think you won't feel awkward staying here. You must come. I'll write to Shuhui separately."
When Shuhui received his letter, he hesitated considerably. He really didn't want to go to Nanjing again.
He called Manzhen and said, "Let's wait until spring to go. It's too cold now, and I already went once. If you haven't been, you might as well go and take a look." Manzhen laughed and said, "If you don't go, I won't go either. It seems a bit awkward for me to go alone." Shuhui had already figured out that Shijun's purpose in inviting them was to have his parents meet Manzhen. If that was the case, Shuhui felt it was his duty to accompany her.
At the end of that week, Shuhui and Manzhen arrived in Nanjing together, and Shijun went to the station to pick them up. He saw Shuhui first, and Manzhen had her head wrapped in a lake-green wool scarf, so he almost didn't recognize her. With her head tied up like that, her chin looked much sharper, and he couldn't say whether it made her look better, but he still preferred her as she always did and didn't like any changes.
Shijun hailed a carriage, and Shuhui laughed, "In this freezing weather, you're treating us to a carriage ride?" Manzhen smiled, "Nanjing is really cold." Shijun said, "It's much colder than Shanghai. I forgot to tell you, so wear more clothes." Manzhen laughed, "Telling you is pointless. It's not like I'd specially make a pair of thick cotton trousers just to come to Nanjing. I'll borrow a pair from my sister-in-law later." Shuhui laughed, "She'd be a fool to wear them." Manzhen smiled, "How's your father these days? Is he feeling any better?" Shi Jun said, "Shu Hui laughed, 'He had the same air about him when I came last year, as if he was extremely worried. Now he's back with the same air, like he's afraid you'll come to their house and spit on the ground or steal food, embarrassing him.' Shi Jun laughed, 'What are you saying?' Manzhen also smiled, and, making small talk, tightened her headscarf, saying, 'The wind is really strong. Luckily, I'm wearing a headscarf, otherwise my hair would look like a disheveled ghost!' However, after a short while, she untied the green headscarf and laughed, 'I didn't see anything on the road...'" "Nobody wears their hair up like that here, it's probably not fashionable. I don't want to either, it looks weird, like a red-haired Indian." Shu Hui laughed, "Red-haired Indian? Green-headed fly!" Shi Jun chuckled and said, "It's better to wear it up, it protects your ears and keeps you warm." Man Zhen said, "Whether it's warm or not doesn't matter, it just makes my hair look messy!" She took out a comb, looked in a small pink mirror, and just when she had combed it neatly, it got messed up again. In the end, she tied the scarf on her head, intending to take it off when they were almost there. When Shi Jun got to know her, he went out with her everywhere, and he never saw her as timid as she was today.
He couldn't help but smile.
He told his family that he had invited Shuhui and a Miss Gu to visit for a couple of days. Miss Gu was a friend of Shuhui and also his colleague. He wasn't intentionally hiding anything. He had always felt that his family was particularly critical of girlfriends from outside the family, always feeling that they weren't good enough for their own people. He didn't want them to look at Manzhen with prejudice and hoped they could meet in a more natural setting. As for what would happen after the meeting, he was quite certain that they would all approve of Manzhen.