After everything, Gu Shunhua truly had no strength left in her limbs. It was mortifying—and exhausting. She lay lazily on the wooden bedboard, half-covered by the quilt.
“Don’t do that again,” she murmured. “It’s too cold. What if you catch a chill? And if anyone hears us, it won’t be good.”
“Alright.”
“I have to go to work in a bit. Remember to pick up the children from kindergarten.”
“Alright.”
“I told you where the kindergarten is. You’ve memorized it? You can find it?”
“I can.”
“If you can show up, it’ll cheer them. If you’re the one to pick them up, it’ll settle their little hearts even more. I just worry the other children might say they don’t have a father.”
“Mhm. I know.”
By now the pillow that had been propped against the window was gone. A shaft of sunlight slipped in. Perhaps it was only a feeling, but the sun seemed especially warm; it lulled her into a loose, drowsy comfort.
“Give it a few days and the thaw should come,” she said. “As soon as it does, we start building. Since you’re here these two days, you need to put in more work. First shift the honeycomb briquettes and the bricks out of the way. Find someone to take the measurements. In any case, if anything comes up, talk it over with Grandpa Pan.”
“I was thinking the same,” Ren Jingnian replied. “Now that everyone’s back at work, it’ll be easier to hire someone to mark out the foundation. We can start.”
“The coal you had Gao Jun bring—aside from the three hundred-some I kept for ourselves, I divided the rest among the neighbors. They’re grateful and helped me settle the lot. But with you gone, I still needed their help for many things. So I’m thinking, while you’re here these two days, invite everyone to a decent meal, buy a few things to hand around. I’ll give you ration coupons and cash in a bit—use your judgment. As for what exactly to buy, talk it over with Grandpa Pan too.”
Household affairs, she could handle herself. But she and Ren Jingnian were one family now—once the house was raised, they would live in it together. Naturally she wanted him involved, to keep good relations with everyone in the lane.
Handing these errands to him would also help him get acquainted with the neighbors, which will be beneficial in the future.
“Mhm.”
After lying there a while, she felt strength creep back. She muttered under her breath, “Can’t you say a little more?”
He looked aggrieved. “Didn’t I agree to everything you said?”
“Anyway, keep busy these two days. Do the outside chores, but don’t fall behind on your studies.”
He laughed. “Alright.”
She thought it over and conceded she was asking a lot. “We can’t help it. Life isn’t easy right now. We both have to push. To put down roots in the capital—for me, that’s enough. But we still have to fight—to carve out a path for the children, and for ourselves.”
Hearing that, Ren Jingnian sighed. He sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair. “I understand. Once I’m back in Langfang, you’ll be working late every day and still have to look after the children at night. I won’t be here to help. While I’m around, I’ll do as much as I can.”
“As long as you know.”
She rose and pulled a small bundle from the nearby trunk—a red bundle with an old-style copper coin knotted into the cord. She undid the knot, peeled back layer after layer, and took out a packet stuffed with cash and ration coupons.
“This is our money. We spent ninety on bricks; then more than a hundred on the children’s kindergarten fees and various supplies. We’ve still got just under eight hundred yuan left, plus tickets. Lei Yongquan gave me these. Take them. Use your judgment.”
“I’ll go see Lei Yongquan again sometime and have a proper talk,” he said.
The day Lei Yongquan had come by with several friends to visit the old folks at her place, there’d been too many people and too little time. They hadn’t had a proper word.
“We’re close,” said Gu Shunhua. “Favors aren’t settled in a day; you measure them over the long haul. But people should know our intentions, so you ought to go.”
There were too many threads of human ties to keep track of. Before, she’d worried over them alone and couldn’t cover everything. Now that there was someone to share the load, her heart felt lighter.
After she explained everything, he agreed to it all. Then, out of nowhere, Ren Jingnian said, “Right—let me ask you something.”
“What?”
“That Su Jianping in your courtyard—before you left the capital last time, what were you like with him?”
She hadn’t expected the name and answered readily. “We got along alright before. But this time when I came back, his mother tried to introduce me to some middle-aged divorcé from their district’s food supply office. Of course I refused. Wasn’t that him trying to make trouble for me? That childhood friendship’s good and ruined. Why bring him up?”
Ren Jingnian’s tone held a meaning she couldn’t place. “He came to see me today. Said quite a lot.”
Gu Shunhua laughed. “Back when I was settling my household registration, he tried to trip me up. When I started on the house, his father still signed and stamped the paper. He didn’t dare fart a word then, and now he’s whining? He even came to you? Is he bullying you because you’ve got a softer face and he hopes to wring something out of you?”
Her answer surprised him.
She went on, unruffled: “If he wants to press me for an explanation, fine—let him. The whole courtyard agreed and signed for me. If he wants to overturn it, then go persuade every last one of them to sign again. He can’t do it, so he stews. This sort of person—”
A good-looking shell, she thought, with his neat clothes and decent posture—until he opened his mouth and droned on and on. Who knew what he was after.
And now he had the gall to approach Ren Jingnian? Did he think Ren Jingnian was easy prey?
Ren Jingnian raised a brow, studying her. After a moment, a strange glint flickered in his eyes and he couldn’t help chuckling.
“What?” she asked.
“So you think he sought me out to question me about the plot for the house?”
“What else would he want?”
His laughter rang clear.
She pinched his hand, annoyed. “Say it! What did he say?”
He stifled his smile and looked at her seriously. “Shunhua—since you came back, he hasn’t said anything to you?”
“He has.”
She then recounted how she’d run into Su Jianping.
“Looked to me like he had… some feelings for me,” she said. “But after everything that happened, I doubt there’s anything left.”
After all, she’d turned his flirtation into hand-holding in broad daylight, then swiped his leather boots, dumped him into a pile of dog dung, and finally took the lot his family had coveted for their own use.
After all that, any lingering fancy would have been scared right out of him.
The more he listened, the more certain Ren Jingnian became: Su Jianping had his eye on his wife. But his wife—dear woman—had only the house on her mind, assuming Su Jianping lusted after real estate.
Gu Shunhua narrowed her eyes at him. “Ren Jingnian, you’d better tell me the truth, or I won’t forgive you.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her cheek. “Alright, alright—I’ll tell you.”
Smiling with his eyes, he said, “Su Jianping is not a good person. He coveted the good things in our family. He tried to wheedle me and I shut him down.”
He would never tell his wife that what the man fancied was not land but her.
As for Su Jianping—if he dared to come knocking, then let him wait. Let him wait until the Year of the Monkey, until their house was raised, until the flowers were wilted and cold.
“I still feel like you’re hiding something,” she said, suspicious.
“With a man like Su Jianping, what grand affair could there be?” Ren Jingnian answered solemnly. “At most a handful of petty trifles. Shunhua, what could I possibly hide from you?”
She thought about it and had to admit it made sense, so she let it go.
Su Jianping himself was irrelevant. So long as he didn’t bother her again, she couldn’t be bothered to spare him another thought.
“If he nags you again, just give him a scare,” she said. “He works at the Power Bureau and dreams of promotions and raises. Spook him a little and he won’t dare say a word.”
Ren Jingnian nodded obediently. “Alright. I’ll be fierce about it—scare him off so he won’t dare hover around you again.”
“That’s the spirit.”
She knew his abilities—he was a fearsome fighter. Eight Su Jianpings wouldn’t match him. What was there to fear?
After this exchange, it was getting late, and Gu Shunhua hurried to work.
On the way, Gu Quanfu went over the menu with her yet again—what dishes to make, the meaning and touch behind each one. She listened carefully.
At the company, Niu Deshui came looking for Gu Quanfu. Gu Quanfu brought Gu Shunhua along and had her draft the menu hand in hand with him.
At a glance, the menu didn’t look like much: four “big-bowl” and four “middle-bowl” dishes, six small plates, and two hotpots. For a so-called imperial banquet, even for a grand feast, the spread seemed a bit underwhelming.
Niu Deshui hesitated. “Master Gu, will this do?”
Gu Quanfu smiled. “Back in Xi’an, my old master earned the favor of Empress Dowager Cixi with a single signature dish. Do you know which?”
“Your old master?” Respect flickered on Niu’s face. “I wouldn’t dare presume.”
“Cabbage Bundles.”
Niu blinked, then clapped. “Cabbage Bundles—perfect!”
What were Cabbage Bundles? In the beginning it had been a Manchu fare beyond the Pass. Hunters in those days lived on wild pigeons—zhujīu, so they said. To honor their ancestors, they wrapped the pigeon in cabbage leaves as an offering. After the Manchus crossed into the Pass, the cabbage-wrapped pigeon entered the imperial kitchen and took on the name Cabbage Bundles.
When the Eight-Nation Alliance invaded and Cixi fled with the little emperor to Xi’an, she couldn’t abide the hearth there and developed sores on her tongue. The court eunuchs and maids suffered her wrath for it.
It was Gu Shunhua’s old master who dared and cared enough to replace the pigeon with minced squab and cabbage—Big Cabbage Bundles with Diced Pigeon. Miraculously, it cooled her fire. She grew fond of the dish, and the old master, in turn, found favor.
Not that he loved dancing on the knife-edge of serving a ruler. When the young emperor later left the palace for the Northeast, the old man seized a gap and slipped away.
Who’d have thought that decades later, people still fancied the banner of “Manchu-Han Banquet.” Having served in the imperial kitchen—why, that was a flag to wave.
“This menu—” Gu Quanfu went on. “You feel the weight of it, I know. So I mean to include a dish everyone can taste, and let the apprentices see and learn as well. As it happens, my girl learned this one when she was little. Let her make it.”
It was precisely what Niu Deshui wanted to hear. “Done!”
And Gu Quanfu was delighted. With this, his daughter would step into the light. At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before she’d have every chance to be made permanent.
It was just after the New Year; ordinary folk were willing to spend, and business at Yuhuatai Restaurant was especially brisk. The back kitchen ran off its feet, and by the time the last flame went out it was very late. Father and daughter were both tired.
When Gu Shunhua got home, the two children were already asleep. Under the lamplight, Ren Jingnian was studying with Gu Yuehua.
Seeing her, Yuehua said, “Sis, you weren’t home, but brother-in-law did a ton!”
A smile tugged at her lips. “As he should.”
“Easy for you to say,” Yuehua laughed. “Go look outside—the briquettes and bricks are all tidied away. He also went and made arrangements with Grandpa Pan. Tomorrow morning they’ll find someone to measure the plot. They’re about to break ground.”
“That’s excellent,” she said.
“But Chen Lu came again today,” Yuehua added. “She sidled up to chat, and brother-in-law accidentally flung a shovelful of briquette dust all over her trousers. She nearly cried.”
Gu Shunhua arched a brow at Ren Jingnian.
He looked helpless. “Yuehua, say a little less.”
“Alright, alright, I’m done,” Yuehua chortled.
Back in their room, she of course asked. Ren Jingnian told her straight: nothing much—Chen Lu had used kinship as a pretext to come close. He wouldn’t let her near, wary of any tricks. He’d been clearing briquette dust with an iron shovel, and the way he flicked his wrist sent grit across her legs. Chen Lu had nearly burst into tears.
She couldn’t help but laugh, and she was more than satisfied with Ren Jingnian’s performance. All the same, her disgust for Chen Lu only grew.
If she truly had divorced, and Chen Lu came along to pick up Ren Jingnian afterward—two cousins marrying the same man, ugly as it sounded, would still be within the bounds of reason. But now? She and Ren Jingnian were clearly on good terms. Even if they hadn’t re-registered their marriage yet, everyone knew what was what. And still Chen Lu hovered?
Let the talk spread—she’d ruin her own reputation. Serves her right.
They were mid-conversation when a sound came from the window. Outside, Su Yinghong was calling to her.
Since leaving home for the dorms, Gu Shunhua hadn’t seen her. Now that she had, she quickly stepped out.
Worried the girl might have something she couldn’t say in front of others, Shunhua picked up the tub of dirty ash to dump it and walked out with Su Yinghong, speaking as they went.
The two of them stepped out into the courtyard. Under the moonlight, Gu Shunhua finally asked, “Yinghong, how have you been? It’s so late—why are you back in the compound? Are you staying the night?”
Su Yinghong answered, “Sister Shunhua, it’s the New Year. I thought I should at least come see my father, so I came home. But then I ended up quarreling with my mother.”
Hearing that, Gu Shunhua could only sigh at Qiao Xiuyá’s way of things. Though Yinghong had moved out, coming home to pay respects after the holiday was conscience enough. If the mother had given her a step down to stand on, the distance between them needn’t have grown. Instead she had picked a fight—pushing the girl further away.
She frowned. “Your mother is really something. It’s not that she doesn’t want you as a daughter, it’s that she’s obsessed with saving face. She’s always been like that—face above all, living for a few sweet words from others.”
Su Yinghong gave a short, bitter laugh. “It’s nothing. If I cared about what she said, I’d have died a dozen times over by now. Let’s not talk about her. I came looking for you because I’ve got something important to tell you. I’m afraid I won’t get another chance later.”
“What is it?”
“Today, after my mother made a scene, Sister Guduo’er pulled me aside, and we had a word with Grandpa Pan. Sister, your husband is the real deal. Everyone’s praising him. Even Grandpa Pan says he’s a good sort. Grandpa Pan hardly ever praises people, right? This is the first time I’ve heard him praise anyone like that.”
Listening, Gu Shunhua felt a warm tide of satisfaction. She smiled. “I don’t need him to be some paragon. As long as the neighbors don’t find him annoying, that’s enough.”
In truth, she’d worried. Her household registration had been processed under the pretext of “divorce.” Though the paperwork was final—no one could undo it—if someone grew jealous and chose to make trouble, a report at the wrong time could still create complications.
“But sister,” Su Yinghong went on, “a man that decent attracts flies. You still have to watch out for those tarts who can’t keep their hooves to themselves.”
“You mean Chen Lu?” Shunhua asked at once.
“Who else?” Yinghong’s temper flared. “The whole courtyard saw it—while you weren’t home, she actually had the face to come around. I happened to glance out while I was chatting with Sister Guduo’er, there she was in a brand-new padded jacket, two braids with a pair of blossoms stuck in them, putting on airs like some genteel miss. She minced right up to chat with brother-in-law. He ignored her and even dusted her trousers with briquette grit.”
“This woman clings like taffy,” Gu Shunhua muttered. “Once she sticks, she won’t come off.”
This one’s only here to push the plot, she thought, to “awaken” Ren Jingnian’s leading-man awareness. Then I really do have to be careful. No matter how steady he is, what if she catches him off guard one time? It only takes one misstep—and where would I go to cry then?
“Sister Shunhua,” said Yinghong, “it makes me mad on your behalf. If you want to deal with her, just say the word. I’ll find a way to teach her a lesson.”
“Leave it,” Shunhua said quickly. “You just do your proper work. I’ll handle this myself. There’s more to it than meets the eye.”
Yinghong felt stung, as if Shunhua were underestimating her. Shunhua had treated her with real kindness, and she wanted to repay it with her whole heart—if only there were a chance.
Just then, someone up ahead lifted her chin and glanced their way. In the pale winter moon, the figure in a dark-blue padded jacket was of middling height—wasn’t that Chen Lu?
Truly, enemies meet on a narrow road.
Yinghong’s first urge was to stride over and slap her. That was how she handled things—straight and hard.
Seeing it, Shunhua caught her hand at once.
She didn’t want Yinghong dragged into the mud. The girl had only just started proper work; better to walk the straight path, especially with her former reputation.
But Chen Lu stepped forward of her own accord and gave Yinghong a cool, dismissive once-over.
A mere alley-bird, a female hooligan with a tainted name—someone beneath mention. In Chen Lu’s book, such a person could be fobbed off with a stale lunchbox.
Already angry, Yinghong went colder at that look; even from a distance, the contempt was plain. Her eyes narrowed.
Chen Lu, oblivious, turned to Shunhua with a frown. “Sister, you weren’t home today. I came by to talk to Yuehua and happened to see brother-in-law sorting briquettes.”
Shunhua arched a brow, surprised. She’s thick-skinned enough to bring up Ren Jingnian to me?
Chen Lu went on, “Sister, brother-in-law is a good man—steady, capable, reliable. He chased you here for the children, for the sake of a family.”
The lines were too familiar. In an instant, Shunhua placed them.
Right. In that book, after I ‘abandoned’ Ren Jingnian, it was Chen Lu who ‘soothed his pained, fragile heart’ and then came to find the ‘Gu Shunhua’ of the story, to extol his virtues and urge her to cherish him.
And the ‘Gu Shunhua’ in that book slapped her like a shrew for no reason, and Chen Lu ran off weeping to complain to Ren Jingnian so he could ache with guilt for her. Then she’d say, ‘Brother-in-law, it’s fine for me. If taking a slap will bring Sister back to you, I’d die happy.’
Thinking of that script, Gu Shunhua felt her temper spike. Set aside how that “Gu Shunhua” was capricious and cold-blooded—the sort of thing I’d never do. Just this little speech of Chen Lu’s—other people’s marriage is none of your damned business! Who are you, their father or mother, to stick your nose in?
Recalling the plot, she let a chill smile curl her lips. So you came looking for a slap? Fine. Auntie will oblige.
So she said, very lightly, “Even if he’s that good—so what?”
Chen Lu’s eyes lit; this was exactly the reaction in the book. She hurried on, “Brother-in-law is such a good man, but today you made him do this and that. Do you know how hard he’s working? I heard he even emptied the chamber pot this morning. How can you treat him like that?”
“He’s my man, the father of my children,” said Shunhua. “Isn’t it his job to do what needs doing? I’m the lady of the house—if I say do it, he does it. That’s our married life. Since when is it your turn to meddle?”
Chen Lu was elated—this was exactly the shrewish tone she wanted.
She cried out, wide-eyed, “Sister, how can you say that? He’s a person, not your slave. Aren’t you going too far?”
Yinghong had had enough; her fists cracked as she flexed them. With a cold laugh, she sneered, “So what if she goes too far? What people do behind their own door is none of your damned business. Itching for a beating? I’ll fetch a shovel for you.”
She drew her arm back.
But Shunhua dragged her back and, instead, beckoned Chen Lu closer.
Suspicious, Chen Lu kept her guard up. “What are you trying to pull?”
Shunhua smiled. “Chen Lu, let’s be honest. You’ve got your eye on my man, haven’t you?”
Chen Lu’s brows pinched as she met that steady gaze with a provocation of her own.
She still didn’t understand how this Gu Shunhua had wriggled free of “her” storyline, but that certainty on Shunhua’s face filled her with distaste.
Too hateful. Simply too hateful.
It even brought to mind the real woman she had once met; thinking that that person lay beside Ren Jingnian filled her with loathing.
At last she couldn’t help herself. “Sister, don’t forget—you’re already divorced. He isn’t your man anymore.”
Shunhua laughed. “A divorce is just a piece of paper. There’s such a thing as a common-law marriage. He sleeps under my quilt, hands his wages to me, and does the things I tell him to do. That makes him my man. You come here, sour as vinegar, trying to sow discord—spitting such shameless lines. Isn’t it because you’ve set your sights on him? Tsk, tsk. Let me pass along a word from your mother—have a little shame. What are you even supposed to be, throwing yourself at my man?”
The blood rushed to Chen Lu’s head. No one had ever spoken to her like that.
Seething, she stared at Shunhua as if time itself had slipped. Through clenched teeth, she hissed, “What are you so proud of—just because you bore him two children? You’re using them to tie him down. If not for those two, what are you to him? You’re getting old—faded pearls on a withered vine. You live off a man!”
These were the words she’d wanted to fling at that other, real-life Gu Shunhua—Didn’t you just marry early and pop out two kids? Otherwise, what are you worth?
Shunhua arched a brow. “Exactly. I gave him two children and tied him down—what of it? I married him and bore him those two. That’s my ability. You think just anyone could marry him and give him two? Could you? With your charms, men won’t even look you in the eye. They’d go soft at the sight of you.”
Chen Lu gaped. “You—you!”
Shunhua smiled—and, all at once, her hand flashed. A crisp slap exploded across Chen Lu’s cheek.
“Cheap little thing. Coveting another woman’s husband—daring to act shameless with me?”
Yinghong had been straining at the leash; if not for Shunhua’s grip she’d have charged earlier. Seeing Shunhua strike, she sprang like a ball, smacking Chen Lu across the face, then grabbed a fistful of hair. “Look at that face—begging for a beating!”
Chen Lu shrieked and lunged to fight back.
Shunhua hadn’t meant to go too far—just to teach a lesson. But Yinghong wasn’t known for keeping her hand light; worried she’d invite real trouble, Shunhua called, “One slap is lesson enough.”
To Chen Lu, though, this was a terrible loss. She had wanted precisely a single slap—no more. Anything beyond that was unfair!
She barreled toward Shunhua, and Shunhua’s expression darkened. I was trying to give you the scene you wanted, and you still won’t quit?
She wasn’t patient by nature. She hiked up her sleeves—and jumped in with Yinghong.
In that scuffle, there was no chance of Shunhua and Yinghong coming off worse. Chen Lu, on the other hand, ended up with a swollen nose and bruised face, hair yanked half out and scattered on the ground. Even when a passerby hauling ash stopped to break it up, she was still bawling at the top of her lungs.
Shunhua decided to make it count. She covered her mouth with a handkerchief, pinched her nose, and bellowed in a nasal voice, “Chen Lu! Seducing my man—caught you bare-bottomed in bed! My man’s already going bald and you still lowered your mouth to him? So you’ve been carrying on for half a year, eh? Had him buy you that padded jacket and hair flowers for New Year, and you’ve got the face to wear them out? I’ll beat you! I’ll scratch that face of yours! Chen Lu, you wretch—spawn of a mother with no father’s raising!”
Her voice rang out. Altered as it was, no one could recognize it as her usual tone.
As soon as she finished, she dragged Yinghong along the shadow of the wall and bolted.
They ducked into a corner a distance away. From there, they could see people pouring out of several neighboring courtyards to watch the commotion. Both women were panting as they spoke.
“Sister, what was that about?”
“Labeling,” said Shunhua. “Now everyone knows she was beaten, and the rumor will spread that she was caught in bed with a man.”
“But it didn’t happen,” Yinghong said. “She’ll deny it—or she’ll smear brother-in-law—”
She broke off, understanding dawning.
I’m still green, she thought.
There was method in that shout: a balding man, six months of carrying on, New Year trinkets—such vivid touches that you’d doubt the truth before you doubted the story. Half the compound had heard her name cried out—no wriggling free now.
If she said she wasn’t caught in bed, then why was she beaten? By whom?
If she said it was by Gu Shunhua—well then, she’d admitted she’d been seducing the sister’s man.
Though… brother-in-law just arrived in Dashilan, and he isn’t balding. Doesn’t match. We’ll draft a different version later.
Besides, everyone saw him ignore her and dust her trousers this afternoon. She couldn’t pin anything on him without looking foolish.
A small, satisfied smile curved Shunhua’s mouth. “If she insists on naming your brother-in-law, no one will believe it. He doesn’t fit. But the moment she tries to blame him, she admits to an affair. Then the neighbors won’t doubt the rest—they’ll only wonder who the real man is.”
Either way, Chen Lu was bound to lose.
“Brilliant,” Yinghong breathed. “Let her taste what it’s like when a hundred tongues make your name foul. Serves her right—what she said today was infuriating!”
Imagine—feigning pity for brother-in-law, sticking herself between husband and wife. Who does she think she is!
They whispered in the shadows, watching as Chen Lu wept and whimpered while people gawked. At last, Chen Yaotang and Feng Xian’er came, cursing as they hauled her home. The crowd finally dispersed.
Good—let it tear open. Better than having her stick like taffy every day.
Taking advantage of the night, Su Yinghong slipped away first. Shunhua hugged the wall and ghosted back toward their courtyard. The clamor had roused everyone, and they were still talking; no one noticed her. She merged into the stream of people.
“Did you hear? Chen Lu—turns out she was chasing after some balding man!”
“No wonder she dressed up so much at New Year. A man bought it for her!”
“Tsk, tsk. A girl that age, still unmarried—what’s going on in that head?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Like lice on a bald pate—plain as daylight. She’s been pining after other people’s men, that’s why she won’t wed. Remember how she brushed off blind dates the last two years?”
In those days, not marrying wasn’t unheard of—some came back late from the countryside, years lost, no suitable match. People were decent; they didn’t gossip.
But if you were caught “in bed,” then people would talk.
Listening as she slipped past, Shunhua felt the verdict settle over Chen Lu’s name. Serves her right.
She kept quiet, slipped into the outer room—straight into Ren Jingnian. He frowned the moment he saw her. “Where did you go? I just went looking and couldn’t find you. It’s noisy outside.”
“Just… taking a walk,” she said, a touch guilty.
“Be careful,” he said. “These alleys are pitch-dark. Don’t go out at night for no reason. Even if you’re going to the public latrine, take someone with you.”
“Got it…”
He didn’t like her careless tone and frowned deeper. “I’m serious. Most in this compound are good-hearted, but there are all kinds in the lanes. You still have to be on guard.”
“Shh,” she hushed him quickly. “You’ll wake the children.”
He glanced back. The two had run wild at kindergarten and now slept with their tiny fists tucked by their ears, heads tilted, breathing soft and sweet.
He sighed, helpless. “Who was that girl just now? She from your compound, too?”
“Mm.”
That reminded her of something. She turned the question back on him. “If I got into a fight with someone, whose side would you take?”
“What kind of question is that? I’d take yours.”
“And what if the other party came to you to badmouth me? What if I was the unreasonable one who started swinging?”
“Someone comes to me to badmouth you?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
He thought it over carefully, then said, with solemn gravity, “I’ve learned something.”
“What’s that?”
He drew a deep breath and declared, very straight-faced, “The hell’s it to you.”
She blinked—and then had to bite back a laugh.
He was still in his green uniform, spouting that line with such solemnity—how could she not laugh?
She didn’t dare laugh aloud for fear of waking the children, so she shook with bottled mirth until her shoulders trembled.
He’d meant to make her smile. Ever since she’d spoken her heart, he’d felt the weight she carried and wanted to shoulder more of it himself—and to coax a little joy out of her when he could.
Seeing her so amused, he worried she’d choke from it and patted her back. “Alright, alright—is it really that funny?”
“Where did you learn that?” she whispered. “You never learn the good things—only this sort of coarse street talk.”
In a big courtyard, with people streaming to and from the public latrine, one could pick up a string of Capital curses just by walking down the alley.
She hadn’t expected him to mimic them so perfectly.
“Marry a chicken, live like a chicken; marry a dog, live like a dog,” he said earnestly. “That’s how it is in these courtyards. Backed into a corner, that’s how people talk.”
“What ‘chicken’ and ‘dog’—” she shot back, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “Speak for yourself!”
He looked aggrieved. “Did I get it wrong?”
She snorted. “You’re no chicken or dog. You’re a Tang Monk.”
“Me? Tang Monk?”
“That’s right,” she said. “Tang Monk’s flesh—irresistibly fragrant.”
Forever luring the demonesses to their door.1
- Tang Monk is the central pilgrim in the Chinese classic Journey to the West (西游记). In the novel, demons believe that eating the “flesh of the Tang Monk” grants immortality, so they relentlessly try to capture him. So, “Tang Monk’s flesh” has become a metaphor for someone irresistibly desirable or highly coveted—often a magnet for trouble and unwanted attention. ↩︎