Forever Jiangnan Chapter 9

 

Chapter Nine

In the End, It Is the Meaning of Samsara (3)

She was thinking about what lay beneath those words, and the more she thought about it, the more she smiled. Not outwardly, but inwardly. Warmth spread over her calves, and sunlight fell just below her knees. It was as though she, too, were melting in the sun.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” He slipped back into his half-serious, half-teasing manner. “Feeling disappointed that you’re missing out on a gift?”

Naturally, he meant the meeting gift she would have received as his younger sister if he had a girlfriend.

“Yes, terribly disappointed,” Zhaozhao said with feigned regret. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be the only one keeping me company. Girls have more to talk about with other girls, after all.”

“I’m sorry you have to put up with that,” he said, playing along with her and expressing his own regret. “Having only me for company.”

They fell silent at the same time. Neither spoke, and neither hung up. The silence did not make things awkward. Instead, as the seconds ticked by, it melted into an indescribable atmosphere that made them reluctant to end the call.

Even though they could see each other downstairs as soon as they hung up.

Zhaozhao had thought he was taking her to see the sights of Macau. It was only after getting into his car that she learned they were going to visit a greenhouse. When they arrived, the car turned into a secluded European-style courtyard. Shen Ce led her around the back and into a glass greenhouse.

The moment Zhaozhao stepped inside, she sensed that this greenhouse must have some connection to the one on the top floor of the little house in Hong Kong.

The greenhouse was arranged like a maze, divided into several sections. Enormous ceramic pots stood on the ground, while mandrakes hung down in clusters, forming natural walls. She tilted her head back and saw strands of leaves dangling from the suspended flowerpots like green chains. She immediately asked, “What are these called?”

“Burro’s tail.”

“You have these in your greenhouse, too. I recognize the asparagus fern, the narcissus, and the peonies, but I don’t know this one.”

“Is that so?” he asked with a smile. “You’ve been to the greenhouse in the little house?”

Zhaozhao murmured an affirmative, feeling a little guilty under his amused gaze.

What was wrong with having visited the greenhouse?

Before she could think any further, she spotted a woman’s back ahead of her. The woman wore a simple long dress, its color almost identical to the blooming mandrakes beside her. She was tending to a crown of thorns when she heard them talking and turned around. Seeing Shen Ce, she smiled. “So you finally decided to come see me.”

The woman was even more surprised to see Zhaozhao standing beside Shen Ce than she was to see him at all. She gave Zhaozhao several more looks, then turned to Shen Ce in astonishment. Her eyes seemed to be asking, Where did this girl come from? How can she be so beautiful?

The woman’s silent approval put Shen Ce in an even better mood. He introduced them. “This is Zhaozhao. This is my mother.”

Zhaozhao stared at him in disbelief.

Of all the things she had imagined, she had never expected him to bring her to meet his mother, Uncle Shen’s ex-wife.

Fortunately, Shen Ce’s mother did not care in the slightest about his father’s remarriage. Instead, she was much more interested in the girl her son had brought to see her for the first time. After asking Zhaozhao about her life and studies, she asked pointedly, “Did you like that pair of dice?”

Zhaozhao paused. “I did.”

Shen Ce’s mother smiled. “Those dice were given to him by his maternal grandfather. My father had only one daughter, and I have only one son. In the future…”

“We came to choose flowers today,” Shen Ce interrupted from where he had been sitting silently. “The greenhouse needs some new ones.”

He could tell Zhaozhao liked that greenhouse. She had mentioned it when she was drunk, and she had mentioned it again when she was sober.

“I’ll help you choose some later and have them sent across the sea.” Shen Ce’s mother could also see that he was doing this for his new little sister.

Zhaozhao sensed that Shen Ce had something he wanted to discuss with his mother, so she took the initiative and went off to play with the pair of white cats wandering mischievously around the greenhouse.

He watched her retreating figure, gazing at it intently for a while. When he finally turned back, he saw a lotus slowly unfurling in a glass teapot. The dried bud was being coaxed open by the water, and as it blossomed, it regained its color.

“This flower tea…”

“I’ll send you some, too.” His mother mercilessly exposed his intentions. He still wanted to give something to this new little sister. “Before she leaves.”

Shen Ce smiled and looked at her again.

A white canopy covered half the greenhouse. Some flowers preferred the shade and could not be left in direct sunlight. Zhaozhao sat in that cool patch with a cat in her arms, her legs crossed beneath the hem of her short skirt.

He seemed to see her as she had been in the past.

The young girl had leaned against a low table, resting her chin on his leg. Beneath her skirt, her bare feet had never deigned to wear socks. Her pale ankles brushed against the floorboards, and wherever he looked, there was white. The courtyard’s lush greenery enveloped the sound of cicadas, their cries stirring up a restlessness that gnawed at him. The teacup in his hand had long been empty, yet he did not move. He did not want to move.

She had questioned him while resting on his leg. Ge, you really have a woman on the north bank of the Yangtze? Have you really fallen under her spell, lost your mind? Ge, she’s from enemy territory. How do you know she isn’t a spy? Ge, you want a woman… And then came one elaborate argument after another. He listened contentedly, far more contentedly than he listened to the cicadas.

He did not know who had spread the rumor so convincingly, but it had one advantage: he could hear her jealousy unfold, one sentence after another. And because it still was not enough, he deliberately led her to the wrong conclusion.

“Now the north bank belongs to me, too. You shouldn’t call her a woman from an enemy country anymore.”

Her face immediately went pale. Anger flared in her eyes. Once she had finished being angry, she left. He had calculated that she would return in less than the time it took half an incense stick to burn. Zhaozhao could not bear to be apart from him. They rarely got to see each other, and she could not stand to be separated from him for even a moment.

This time, though, he supposed he had angered her badly. He waited a full incense stick before she returned, carrying a shaving blade and a warm, damp towel.

The blade pressed against his cheek. Afraid of cutting him, she handled it carefully. Her almond-shaped eyes held nothing but him, nothing in the world but him.

“Ge… Just think about it. A woman from an enemy country. How could you dare let her do this for you? Aren’t you afraid?”

A young girl’s heart could twist and turn a thousand different ways, but no matter how it turned, it always led back to him.

And her lips, opening and closing as she spoke beneath his ear, had touched him long ago. He had simply pretended not to notice.

His Zhaozhao.

…

“Before I turned three,” Shen Ce said, looking at his mother, “what happened?”

Shen Ce’s mother had also been admiring the beauty playing with the cats in one corner of the greenhouse. The question caught her so off guard that she froze for a long moment.

“Before you were three, your father was always by your side. I wasn’t there, so I don’t know very much.”

For a moment, as she met her son’s eyes, she was still afraid. Afraid of seeing again the look in his eyes on that night when he was three.

That year, her son had neither asked nor answered questions, neither listened nor spoken. She held him in her arms and cried every day. Then, one night, she finally received a glance from him. It was as if he found her annoying, as if he were annoyed by a strange woman holding him and crying.

She dared not admit it, but that look had frightened her to the brink of collapse. In the end, she left Shen Ce’s father alone in Jiangnan to care for their only son.

Whenever she recalled it afterward, she was convinced that the gaze belonged to a man who had witnessed life and death, seen countless killings, and steeped himself in a sea of violence. For such a shadow to dwell in the eyes of a three-year-old child, how terrifying it was.

She had been barely in her twenties then, with little experience of life’s rises and falls. She had been utterly incapable of facing a gaze like that.

Even now, well past forty, recalling it still sent a chill creeping over her.

“Is that so?” Shen Ce looked again at the lotus in the teapot.

“Your father said… that the great monk told him you had suffered greatly, endured pains that ordinary people couldn’t bear, and that was why you couldn’t hold on. You were too young back then.”

He did not answer.

“What if you were to return to the past…” His mother wanted to say the words die a horrible death, but she could not bring herself to say them. She swallowed the rest of the sentence, unable to imagine how cruel it would be to experience the pain of dying all over again. “You might not believe any of this. It sounds so absurd and ridiculous… Even I feel foolish saying it aloud.”

She would rather believe it was a hallucination, some kind of chronic mental affliction.

Because Shen Ce’s mother had not been by his side much when he was young, she had always felt guilty toward him. And since he was her only son, that guilt, combined with the bond of blood, made her treasure him above all else. She could not bear to let him suffer the torments of his childhood again.

She asked softly, “Has something been upsetting you? Stay away from it. Stay away from anything that brings back the memories.”

Why should he stay away? How could he possibly avoid it?

He had just lifted one corner of the veil, and all he desperately wanted now was to see what lay beneath it.

“I came because I want you to help me make a will.”

“A will? How old are you? Your father and I are both still alive. What do you need a will for?”

Why?

He was afraid of dying young. He could not feel at ease.

He could not bear the thought of leaving her alone in this place, with no one to rely on. He did not trust human nature, nor did he believe her parents would ever treat her wholeheartedly, without any selfish motives, no matter the circumstances. No one could do that except him.

The conversation between them was interrupted by a cry of pain from Zhaozhao.

Shaking her hand, Zhaozhao tried to negotiate with the larger of the two white cats, smiling as she spoke. “Scratch a little more gently, okay?”

Noticing that the two people in the distance had stopped talking, she gave Shen Ce and his mother an apologetic smile. “Please, carry on. I’m just playing with them.”

Shen Ce left his mother and went over to her, crouching down beside her. The two cats had not been frightened away by Zhaozhao’s cry. Instead, the moment they saw Shen Ce, their fur stood on end. One darted into the corner of a wicker chair, the other behind a flowerpot. Both pairs of blue-yellow eyes stared fixedly at him, spying on him from two different angles.

Shen Ce reached for her hand to check whether the cat had scratched her, but she pulled away.

His mother was right over there…

If he truly wanted to catch her, there was nothing that could escape him, including her. He had managed to catch her effortlessly last night even with his hands behind his back, so how could she possibly evade him now? Zhaozhao had nowhere to dodge. Her hand ended up in his.

“Your mother takes such good care of her flowers,” she said, forcing herself to appear composed and changing the subject. “What’s that one called?”

“Hibiscus.”

“What a lovely name.” For some inexplicable reason, Zhaozhao liked it.

He looked at her.

She explained, “It has that word sang in it. It sounds lovely when you say it.”

The cats passed behind her. They were afraid of him, but they liked her very much.

In the end, the two cats finally worked up the courage to approach her. Their fondness outweighed their fear, and they settled down beside her feet, though neither dared let the tip of its tail brush against Shen Ce.

“Does it?” he asked after a long pause.

“Mm. Say it,” she said, pronouncing sang with a light sound formed at the tip of the tongue. Then she smiled and asked him, “It sounds lovely, doesn’t it?”

He gazed at her. “I’d rather hear you call me gege.”

“…”

“Changed your mind? Don’t want to call me that anymore?”

Under his gaze, her face grew hot. Her thoughts turned this way and that, going around in circles. “You can’t expect me to call you that just because you tell me to. What do I get out of it?”

“What do you get?” He smiled. “The benefit is that I’ll never find you a sister-in-law for the rest of my life.”

Zhaozhao’s face had already been burning, but that remark struck her squarely. For a long moment, she could not say a word. She picked up one of the cats and walked away.

She was genuinely angry.

And she stayed angry all the way back to the Shen family’s parking garage, without saying a single word.

The parking garage here was enormous, almost half the size of an underground car park.

Shen Ce did not turn off the engine. A thin stream of cold air blew against her arm, leaving her chilled.

Zhaozhao unfastened her seat belt and heard him ask, “Getting out already?”

She still ignored him, freeing herself from the restraint on her own. A soft click came from Shen Ce’s side, too, as his seat belt retracted into its slot. It was a very quiet sound, but there was no one else in the underground garage. The silence was so complete that the noise seemed ten times louder.

Zhaozhao thought he was getting out as well, but instead he reached over and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“I took you out to take care of some business. Only now do I have time to sit with you for a while.” His tone had suddenly become sincere.

After saying that, he asked again, “We hardly ever get to be alone together. Do you really want to go upstairs?”

As if they did not see each other every day, she retorted inwardly.

One second passed, then another. Zhaozhao grew puzzled when he did not say anything. She glanced at him, only to find that he had caught her looking. As if responding to her gaze, he leaned toward her.

“Softening up?”

“No.” He had cornered her into speaking.

His upper body blocked the entire view outside the window.

At first, Zhaozhao ignored him. But with the warmth radiating from his hand on her shoulder, she gradually grew uneasy. He had not moved at all. His hand was still resting on her shoulder. She did not even know when her own hand had ended up against his chest. She pushed him away.

“Ge, stop fooling around.”

An engine started somewhere in the parking garage.

Someone was coming.

Her soul nearly left her body. She closed her eyes and listened to her own heartbeat. Blood rushed to her face, turning it scarlet, while the pounding made her eardrums tremble. Headlights swept past. Even with her eyes closed, she could see the light.

The car gradually drove away, restoring the quiet.

As though she had survived a calamity, she slowly raised her eyelids. The light washed away the darkness.

Shen Ce seemed to have been waiting for her. Only when she opened her eyes did he move closer. Zhaozhao shrank back, but the seat was behind her head, leaving her nowhere to go. This attempt to evade him was almost entirely futile.

She had never been this close to a man before. Her whole body had gone numb, and in this dangerous place, where they could be seen at any moment, the nervous excitement was all the more intense.

“Ge…” She was genuinely panicking now. Her heartbeat was so violent that the scene before her eyes seemed to sway.

He stopped.

“You don’t want me to?”

✦

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Forever Jiangnan Chapter 8

 

Chapter Eight

In the End, It Is the Meaning of Samsara (2)

The moment Zhaozhao entered the lounge, voices rose and fell around her, all calling out “Little Auntie” and “Auntie.” There were children of every age, both older and younger. She had barely sat down on the sofa when Shen Yan’s son, who wasn’t yet two, climbed into her lap and called out in his babyish voice, “Little Auntie Grandma.” He tugged at her collar and kept repeating, “Little Uncle Grandpa, Little Uncle Grandpa…”

The little baby had only just learned to talk and couldn’t quite get his words out. What he wanted to ask was where Shen Ce was. When he couldn’t find him, he felt wronged, and when he felt wronged, he wanted to cry. So Zhaozhao held Shen Yan’s little boy and fulfilled her duties as a “grandmother” by coaxing her… great-nephew.

By the time Shen Ce showed himself again, his trousers covered the injuries on his legs, but large patches of bruising were still visible beneath his short sleeves. There was also a bloody scrape across his forehead. Seeing Zhaozhao and his great-nephew clinging to each other like a mother koala and her baby, he immediately called Shen Yan to account. “You brought him here and then didn’t even soothe him?”

Shen Yan gave an awkward grin and took his son into his arms, carrying him off to bed first.

Shen Ce sat down beside her, resting his arm along the back of the sofa behind her.

By this point, Liang Jinhua had long since been driven away. With Shen Yan gone as well, he and Zhaozhao were the only older ones left here.

“Little Uncle, let me put some medicine on your wounds.” The boy who had tried to stop the car squeezed up beside Shen Ce’s legs, holding out the medicine.

“You wouldn’t even call your Little Auntie when Little Uncle asked you to. Now you’re trying to make it up to him?” a girl said. She was the one who had called Zhaozhao earlier.

The children bickered without the slightest sense that anything was amiss.

The speaker meant nothing by it, but the listener heard more than she said.

Zhaozhao’s gaze wandered. She was wondering what she ought to do.

“With your Little Auntie here, I don’t need you.” Shen Ce handed over the medicine as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “No one’s next door.”

With that, he got up.

Amid her little nephew’s disappointment, Zhaozhao followed him. They passed through a room full of laughter and went into the small room next door, a tiny tea room with a sofa and an incense burner sending up thin wisps of smoke. A wooden carved screen blocked the view from the doorway.

It was quiet inside. All she could hear was the laughter of the little children beyond the screen.

Zhaozhao opened the round tin. She dipped her fingers into the transparent ointment, looked up, and met his eyes.

“You’re going to use your hands?”

“Using my hands works better.” She pretended to be calm, having completely forgotten to ask whether there were cotton swabs or anything of the sort.

Shen Ce had originally intended to call someone to bring him a warm, damp towel and then apply the medicine himself. He disliked the sticky feel of ointment and never used his hands for it. He always did it that way. But there was no need for that now.

He took off his short-sleeved shirt. Shen Ce had also been bare-chested in the boxing ring earlier, his back exposed, but at the time she had been too worried about his safety to pay attention to anything else. Now his body was directly before her, the muscles from his shoulders down across his chest and abdomen all laid bare to her view. At the front, the thin drawstring tied into a knot on his trousers hung down, the waistband sitting low on his hips.

He cradled the teacup in his hands and took a sip. “Go ahead.”

Zhaozhao rubbed the ointment into her palm and blew on it. “Should I start with your shoulder?”

He fell silent for a moment. The room suddenly grew dark.

There was the sound of hurried footsteps, thump, thump, thump. A small figure ran out of the darkness that swallowed everything, throwing her arms around his waist. Her little hands clasped behind his back, and she refused to let go.

He lowered his head, wanting to see that little face, the one that had captivated the entire neighborhood despite her tender age. She wouldn’t let him. She shook her head from side to side in his arms, asking, Ge, you don’t want me anymore? Ge, where did you go? Ge, do you know I’ll die without you? Ge, do you know I’ve already been dead for thirty-nine days?

He wanted to comfort her, but he also wanted to hear her speak. So he let her cry and carry on in his arms, right up until she noticed the wounds on his hands and arms.

He had survived a brush with death, barely escaping with his life and almost leaving nothing behind but his bones. He had no room to think about anything else. He was desperate to hear his little sister cry and fuss over how much she had missed him, so he let her roll up his sleeves.

The little girl burst into tears again and ran off. When she returned, her arms were full of medicine and bandages. She even had a paper bag of brown sugar cubes clutched in one hand. She stuffed a piece of brown sugar between his teeth, scooped out a large lump of ointment with her fingers, and parted her little mouth to blow into her palm. Then she rubbed her hands together, as though trying to warm the medicine first. She was afraid it would be cold, afraid the cold would touch him…

In the last days of winter, as the year hastened toward its end and all things withered, even the warmth of the charcoal brazier could not compare to her hands, that pair of tender little hands.

“Just the shoulder.” Shen Ce looked out of the darkness and at the Zhaozhao standing before him in the present.

Zhaozhao rubbed her hands together a couple of times before laying them against his body.

The muscles beneath her palms tensed.

Her hand trembled.

“You can rub it a little,” he said abruptly.

There was fire in her palms, but it was burning her. Her face was heating up, too. In a fluster, she rubbed the area in two quick circles and tried to withdraw her hand. Shen Ce offered a timely reminder. “Rub until it’s warm. That’s how the bruising disperses.”

“What counts as warm?” she asked, unconsciously adjusting her sitting position. Just now, she had been entirely focused on the place where their skin met and hadn’t noticed that she had been sitting on her own leg until it went numb. A fine, prickling sensation spread through it, almost as though she could see the blood coursing through her own veins.

“I’ll tell you when it’s warm.”

Zhaozhao silently grumbled to herself.

Shen Ce happened to glance at her, as though he had heard her thoughts.

“Shen Qi,” he called to the boy outside. “When you apply medicine, does it have to get warm every time?”

“Yes, yes!” the boy called back. “Little Auntie, rub harder! Rub until it gets warm!”

“Little Auntie, harder!” the other children outside joined in, egging her on.

Shen Ce looked at her again. Beneath his lashes, his eyes tilted slightly as he watched her, as though amused by how much she was overthinking things.

Zhaozhao fell silent. She concentrated on rubbing the bruise, and when it finally did grow warm, a strange sense of accomplishment welled up inside her.

“That’s enough. Move to another spot,” Shen Ce said quietly.

This time, it was the small of his back.

Perhaps it was the particular location, but Zhaozhao was even less composed this time. The moment her hand covered the bruise, it was as though every pore on her body had been forced open. One moment she felt hot, the next cold…

“Do you really want to call me gege?” the man with his back to her suddenly asked.

She stopped.

Those two calls of ge earlier had slipped out without thought, without any particular intention behind them. She didn’t know how to explain herself.

“From now on, call me by my name in front of other people,” he told her amid the quiet that belonged only to the two of them. “In private, you can call me whatever you like.”

Zhaozhao murmured an “Mm,” wanting to escape.

Shen Ce suddenly reached his arm behind him. Caught off guard, she found her wrist trapped in his grasp. Zhaozhao’s heart raced. The heat around her wrist slid upward, wrapping around the back of her hand…

Because of the slick ointment, both their hands slipped against each other like loaches. One was trying every possible way to keep her there; the other was using every scheme she could think of to get away.

He didn’t even turn around. One hand held the teacup, long since emptied, while the other restrained her.

He was warming her with his own body heat.

Only when someone outside the screen asked whether they needed more water did this thread of ambiguous intimacy finally snap at the sound of their voices.

Seeing the person come in with a kettle, Zhaozhao moved far away from him and stood beside the screen, watching the thin white smoke curl upward from the incense burner. She clasped her hands behind her back, still dazed by what had just happened. Shen Ce said nothing either. He took a tissue and wiped his hands, inch by inch.

“What kind of incense is this?” Afraid the person refilling the water might sense something strange, she took the initiative to ask.

“Dengliumei agarwood,” he said.

Zhaozhao gave an “Oh.” The name clearly came from some classical reference. She cast another glance at the incense burner, then turned around. Shen Ce was already standing before her, still bare-chested.

The person who had come to refill the water left.

It was late. Outside, the children were shouting their goodbyes to one another. Within the screen, Shen Ce responded to them with ease. Even after everyone had left, he and Zhaozhao remained standing face-to-face.

Thinking that things had become such a mess, she knew there was no way she could continue applying the medicine.

“I’ve finished the ones on your back. The rest, the ones on the front…”

“I’ll do the ones on the front myself.”

It was as though she could feel his body heat and the force of his breathing through the air between them. The furnishings all around them cast shadows: the screen standing beside them, the teapot and teacups, the incense burner, even the wallpaper. Shadow connected to shadow, closing in around them, concealing everything that was happening in the room.

“At the wedding banquet…”

His breath fell against her bangs. He had lowered his head, waiting for her to continue.

“Is your girlfriend coming?” she asked softly.

It was almost like a laugh, a silent laugh that only someone standing as close to him as she was could sense.

“Your sister-in-law…” He stopped short, then deliberately added, “Hard to say.”

He was certain that Zhaozhao had genuinely forgotten the previous night.

No one would be foolish enough to probe twice in succession, testing whether he had a girlfriend.

Those three words, your sister-in-law, struck Zhaozhao so hard that she could no longer steady herself. Then what had just happened between them been? A fleeting moment when they had been unable to restrain their feelings?

Shen Ce turned his back to her, smiling as he left her standing where she was. He returned to the sofa to sit at his leisure, still pouring himself tea. When he raised his head, he saw her walking around the screen and called out, “You really won’t stay to hear the rest?”

This was probably the first time she had ever given him the cold shoulder, refusing to spare him even half a step before turning and disappearing from sight.

Shen Ce gazed at the screen.

Dengliumei…

The little girl had climbed onto his lap and nestled into his arms, holding up a scroll. Ge, the fragrance of Dengliumei fills an entire room when you burn just one piece. The fragrant smoke lingers for three days without dispersing. Ge, when you become a great general one day, we’ll stack box after box of it all over our room.

Her hair brushed lightly beneath his ear as she acted spoiled, displaying the innocent intimacy of a child. Dengliumei, Dengliumei. She had recited those words from before sunset until the lamps were lit. With every repetition, his heart burned more fiercely. Forget Dengliumei, he could not even afford to buy the leftover incense.

He would be leaving soon. Who would protect her?

He had even thought of taking advantage of some household's pampered concubine, or perhaps a famous courtesan in Chaisang, using his extraordinary looks to exchange for good meals for her every day and peaceful sleep every night.

Every means available in this world, he would resort to them all, no matter how unscrupulous. That, of course, included himself.

Everyone except Zhaozhao.

…

Shen Ce leaned back against the sofa, gazing at the carved patterns at the very top of the screen. From the first time he had heard the name Zhaozhao, from the first time he had heard about night blindness, he had vaguely sensed that something was coming back to him.

Only tonight had he truly seen it.

He had once had a family member, a younger sister named Zhaozhao.

Shen Zhaozhao.

…

When Zhaozhao returned to her room, her older sister had just come back as well.

In previous years, whenever the two sisters met, they would talk through the night until dawn. This night was no exception, except that Zhaozhao was unusually restless. While her sister recounted a recent, short-lived secret crush, Zhaozhao stretched her front leg, then her back leg, then her side leg against the windowsill. Late into the night, she collapsed at the foot of the bed and wearily closed her eyes.

The carved screen seemed to be standing in her room, and he seemed to be beside her, holding her hand. Nor had he been entirely still. Before the person refilling the water interrupted them last night, he had also lightly scraped the back of her hand with the pad of his finger, then the backs of her fingers…

The ringing telephone was what woke her.

Her sister had just finished washing her face and was preparing to return to her own room. She answered the phone for Zhaozhao.

Then she shoved the receiver into Zhaozhao’s hand. “Shen Ce is looking for you.”

Zhaozhao took a long moment to react before suddenly sitting up. The telephone cord was not long enough. She pulled it taut, sending the telephone crashing straight into the headboard, earning herself a strange look from her sister.

She suppressed the pounding in her chest from being startled awake and watched as the door slammed shut. At first, she had simply been afraid her sister might overhear something. Now that there was no one else around, her thoughts naturally returned to the previous night.

“Has everyone left?”

She did not answer.

“Still angry?” His voice sounded as though he were speaking right beside her. “Was it worth staying angry all night because you wouldn’t hear me out?”

“Ge, did you need something from me?” Zhaozhao kept her voice stiff.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“What is there to talk about this early in the morning?”

“It’s ten o’clock now.”

“…”

“Weren’t you wanting to ask about your sister-in-law?”

“I wasn’t really asking. I was just making polite conversation.” Zhaozhao considered herself not quite a first-rate actress when it came to playing dumb, but certainly a very good one. “I’m not here very often, and I’m not interested in knowing what your private life is like.”

What did it mean that he had held her hand? She had been the one who had failed to refuse in the first place, the one who had followed him there. She could simply chalk it up to inexperience and having been led astray. Zhaozhao was doing her best to untangle the threads, analyze things objectively, and cut through the knot before it grew any more complicated.

“You really don’t want to ask?” he asked again.

“Ask what? When you’re getting married?”

He laughed.

…

As though he had calculated that her irritation was about to surge and she would hang up, he quickly continued, “I apologize. I’ll spend the day with you as compensation.”

Zhaozhao wanted to ask what exactly he was compensating her for. For the absurdity of last night, for touching her hand? In the end, she suppressed the thought. If he would not acknowledge it, neither would she.

“No need.”

“Zhaozhao.” Shen Ce suddenly grew serious. “I’m alone. I always have been.”

✦

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Forever Jiangnan Chapter 7

 

Chapter Seven

In the End, It Is the Meaning of Samsara (1)

Uncle Shen hosted the two sisters for dinner.

It was the first time the older sister had met their mother's husband. She remarked to Zhaozhao, “An old school gentleman.”

Even when dining privately with his stepdaughters, he wore a shirt that was perfectly pressed, without a single wrinkle. He personally attended to every little detail, from serving the dishes to refilling their glasses, taking meticulous care of their mother. When speaking to women, he would naturally lower his own posture, without any trace of affectation.

“Mom's type,” Zhaozhao whispered. That was why she had been able to tell from the beginning that this Uncle Shen was definitely the man their mother would marry.

Uncle Shen noticed the twins observing him and smiled at them. “Is the food to your liking?”

“Uncle Shen, whether the food suits our taste doesn't matter. As long as you two are happy, anything we eat will be a grand feast,” the older sister said, raising her glass. “May you enjoy a hundred years of wedded bliss.”

Zhaozhao raised her glass as well. “May you grow old together, your brows remaining level with one another's.”

Uncle Shen and their mother exchanged a smile.

Zhaozhao saw him take their mother's hand where it rested beside the table. Even the smallest gestures were filled with the tenderness of newlyweds. Their mother was happy.

Next week was the big day.

And what was she thinking about? An older brother she had met only two days ago. Where had he gone? How late would he be back?

After dinner, their mother drove the older sister out to have some fun, while Uncle Shen took Zhaozhao to a study with an inner room. Apparently, it had belonged to the earliest owner of the house, Shen Ce's great-grandfather.

Zhaozhao had always felt favorably toward the Shen family. Her mother had told her that in the late Qing dynasty, Shen Ce's great-grandfather had been a member of a prominent noble family in the capital. After the Qing dynasty fell, the family moved around several times before eventually settling in Macau. He had been deeply troubled by the terms imposed by the foreign concessions and wanted to remain here until the territory returned to Chinese rule.

The moment she entered the study on the first floor, she could tell that everything, from the furnishings to the decorative objects, had preserved its old appearance. An entire wall of bookshelves stretched all the way to the ceiling. There was a large, freestanding grandfather clock, an old gramophone in excellent condition, and everything else seemed just as it had been.

It was as though this study still stood in that turbulent era, unchanged.

“Great-grandfather is buried in Beijing. Lighting a stick of incense here will do,” Uncle Shen said, handing her one.

She did as he instructed.

When she left the study, several uncles had gathered in the adjoining room. They were all from Uncle Shen's generation. He was the only one in his forties, while the rest were elderly men in their sixties and seventies. Zhaozhao greeted each of them in turn. Thinking of the many men in their forties and fifties who would be attending the wedding banquet, she gained a deeper understanding of why everyone said Shen Ce belonged to a senior generation in the family.

The uncles had all prepared gifts for her. Zhaozhao thanked each of them and accepted them one by one.

There were so many that she could barely hold all the boxes. A hand reached out from behind her and took several of the larger ones from her arms.

She turned around.

It was him.

The grandfather clock had just passed eight. Did that count as “very late”?

The moment the eldest uncle, who was over seventy, saw him, he spoke. “Shen Ce is back.”

“Eldest Uncle.” Shen Ce stepped up in front of him.

“Zhaozhao is your own younger sister. Keep that firmly in mind.” Everyone fell silent to listen. Of all those present, this eldest uncle's words carried the most weight. “In the past, you had no siblings, and everyone in the family protected you. Starting today, you need to learn.”

Shen Ce remained silent for a long time.

Only when everyone had begun to find his silence a little strange did he finally speak in a low voice.

“I'll treat her well.”

He took a seat and accepted the tea from the girl standing behind him.

He had rushed back from outside just now because the family uncles had arrived ahead of schedule, so he had not changed out of his suit. The guests Shen Ce had met with that evening were important, and he was still wearing his tie. Perhaps he was simply too tired. Amid the elders' cheerful conversation in the room, he was unusually quiet.

Later, one of the uncles told Zhaozhao that the monthly allowance provided by the family was the same for men and women, with the amount varying only according to age. Zhaozhao would receive one too, and she would also have inheritance rights in the future.

This was completely different from her maternal great-granduncle's family. Over there, children who were not related by blood would never be treated equally. It seemed that when the Shen family said they valued family, they meant it. It was not just something they said.

As Zhaozhao chatted idly with the uncles, she gradually realized that Shen Ce really was an anomaly in his family.

Perhaps it was because all the men in this room had grown old, and he was the only one who still possessed an edge. At first glance, that sharpness was not conspicuous. It was like the blade of a knife buried in sand. Only when the wind came and swept away a layer of grains could one see what lay beneath.

He was a famous blade hidden beneath the sand, always concealing himself, keeping his edge sheathed. Without a gust of wind, he never revealed it.

When Zhaozhao left, Shen Ce was still sitting with the others. The tea had been replaced three times, yet he had not uttered a single word.

After ten o'clock, her mother called to tell her not to wait for them and to go to bed first. Before she could even set the receiver down properly, the phone rang again, more urgently with each ring. She assumed it was her mother calling back.

“Auntie.”

A strange girl's voice came through the receiver.

The girl's voice was sweet and delicate, the sort that could easily soften anyone's heart. Zhaozhao guessed she was one of Shen Ce's nieces.

“Mm, hello.”

“Come watch Little Uncle box.”

“Box? Where?”

“Someone will come pick you up.”

On the other end, the children's laughter mingled together, and then the call ended.

The man who came to pick her up was dressed casually. He was refined and polite, and introduced himself as Shen Yan. He looked to be around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, and he also called her “Auntie.”

Someone who had lived to that age was surely already married. When it came to dealing with people, he was far more seasoned than Zhaozhao, who had only just reached adulthood. A few words of casual conversation were enough to ease her discomfort with the family titles.

“For the next couple of days, just let the kids call you that a little more so everyone can get used to it,” Shen Yan said with a smile as he led her outside. “Little Uncle isn't in the best mood. If he gets upset later, just pretend nothing happened.”

Zhaozhao had initially wanted to ask why, partly so she could prepare herself and perhaps help talk him down. But when the question reached the tip of her tongue, she decided it was unnecessary. Every person here had a much deeper relationship with Shen Ce than she did. There was no need for her to get involved.

The two of them headed toward the elevator.

When Shen Ce had arrived that afternoon, he had told her that the building had a bowling alley, a swimming pool, and a gym, located on the basement level and the top floor respectively. He had not mentioned that there was also a boxing area.

Once they entered, she saw that the boxing ring occupied a section of the northeastern side of the gym.

From a distance, she could make out the backs of two men in the ring. Both were bare from the waist up, with white wraps wound around their hands. The same kind of wraps were wound around their wrists and ankles. Muay Thai was one of the bloodiest forms of combat. She normally would not even watch matches in which the fighters wore padded gloves, let alone this most primitive form of fighting, barehanded.

There were no children watching from the sidelines. They had probably all been taken somewhere else.

The two men were locked in a closely contested match.

Shen Ce's footwork was strange and unpredictable. Sweat trickled down his back, tracing the beautiful definition of his muscles. There were bruises on his arms from the blows he had taken, though his opponent was in far worse shape.

Zhaozhao thought of a saying:

An eagle stands as though asleep; a tiger walks as though ill.

It was precisely in this way that he seized his prey and tore into it.

His opponent could no longer hold back and suddenly launched an attack.

They clashed head-on with fists and legs, while elbows and knees were used for close-range surprise attacks. Every move was vicious. Shen Ce suddenly retreated two steps, feinted, then abruptly twisted his body and delivered a powerful spinning back kick, sending a grown man crashing straight into the ropes.

The posts surrounding the entire ring reverberated violently...

He caught the wet towel thrown up from below the ring and spat out the mouthful of bloody saliva he had been holding between his teeth. When Zhaozhao saw the faint red against the white, she drew in a sharp breath.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over her face. Something flickered in his eyes and disappeared.

Shen Ce quickly looked away. “Switch to hemp rope.”

Wrapping hemp rope around one's hands was practically like wrapping them in files. It was rough and hard, with astonishing destructive power. This was the kind of method used in Southeast Asian outdoor fighting rings and underground boxing venues to give spectators a thrill and make money off them. Primitive and barbaric.

The man who had been fighting Shen Ce rolled over and propped himself up against the ropes with both hands, panting. “That's enough. You're supposed to be a groomsman, too. What kind of look would it be to show up injured?”

“We're not stopping.”

Shen Ce drove him off the ring and tossed the towel down after him.

Shen Ce said something to the Thai boxing master who had been standing beside the ring with his arms crossed, watching the entire time. Zhaozhao could not understand him. It was Thai. The master gave a slight nod, took off his white robe, found two coils of hemp rope for wrapping hands, and climbed into the ring.

One coil was thrown to Shen Ce.

This was a real professional fighter, the kind of man who had spent years boxing, like those who fought in televised matches. His body was covered in scars, and his eyes held a ferocity that seemed capable of tearing his opponent apart.

“What the hell has gotten into your little uncle today? Why's he going so hard?” The man who had been driven out of the ring walked over to Shen Yan, barefoot and wearing nothing but a pair of shorts.

“Will the hemp rope make the injuries more serious?” Zhaozhao suddenly interjected.

“Of course.” The man lowered his head to look at her. “Once that stuff is wrapped around your hands, every punch draws blood.”

Zhaozhao's breathing stopped.

She watched his back as he unhurriedly and skillfully wound the hemp rope around his hands. Her heart pounded wildly.

The boxing master pressed his palms together and bowed slightly to Shen Ce in greeting.

Shen Ce brought his palms together as well, his manner unhurried and composed. He inclined his head slightly, his eyes fixed on the master six paces away, and performed the silent opening salute before a fight.

The quieter it was, the more it tore at her heart.

Almost involuntarily, Zhaozhao circled around to the other side, moving to the edge of the ring closer to Shen Ce. She peered at him through the ropes. Seeing the Thai boxing master's body covered in old scars and the coarse hemp rope wound around both men's hands, she called out, “Ge.”

The man in the ring seemed not to hear her.

Both men had already begun moving into their respective footwork. Muay Thai placed great emphasis on footwork, with the prowling steps of a tiger and the strides of a lion, every step brimming with killing intent. The more years of experience a fighter had, the more clearly his skill could be judged by the way he moved his feet.

Frightened by what she saw, Zhaozhao followed him around to the other side. “Ge, listen to me for a second.”

Shen Ce stopped moving.

Zhaozhao lowered her voice and asked quickly, “You aren't wearing any protective gear. You haven't even put in a mouthguard. What if something happens when you fight like this?”

Seeing Shen Ce stop, the master stopped as well. After all, Shen Ce was his employer. There was no need to draw blood and determine superiority the moment they stepped into the ring. This was not some open-air fighting pit where men fought for money to make a living.

The master waited until Zhaozhao had finished, then addressed Shen Ce in a low, measured voice, saying two brief sentences.

The first: You're distracted.

The second: Who is she?

Zhaozhao had no idea what they were saying. She could only stare intently at Shen Ce's face, trying to work out the content of their conversation from his expression. But Shen Ce gave her no chance to find out. He did not answer a single word.

Shen Ce thought for a moment, then took another tiger-like step forward.

Zhaozhao's heart sank.

Suddenly, he stopped again. With a smile that seemed almost helpless, he straightened up and shook his head at the master. Bringing his palms together, he bowed slightly, bringing an end to this fierce battle between two tigers that had already been poised to erupt.

His bare feet, white cloth wraps wound around the middle and ankles, left a trail of wet footprints across the ring as he walked toward her. He crouched down in front of her, then reached over with his hands still wrapped in white hemp rope and patted the top of her head.

“What is it? Afraid I'll lose?”

His palm was still warm.

“What's the point of fighting to win or lose? It's not even a competition.” The words had already left her mouth when she realized her tone was wrong. She sounded as though she were complaining to someone she was extremely close to.

“It's utterly pointless.” The man before her relaxed his brows and eyes, then spoke in a low voice, sounding half sincere and half teasing. “Just a way to kill time. I've got nothing else to do, and no one wants me around anyway.”

Up on the elevated ring, he pressed a hand against the soft ropes and swung himself down. He took a bottle of water from Shen Yan, then walked barefoot to one side to rinse his mouth. Everything he spat into the wooden bucket was bloody water. It took three consecutive mouthfuls of water before the blood was finally washed clean from his mouth.

The man who had boxed with Shen Ce earlier studied Zhaozhao carefully under the lights.

He had thought from the start that she did not look like a member of the Shen family. Standing beside the boxing ring, this girl seemed to have been nurtured by the waters and soil of Jiangnan, with a moist, fragrant softness about her. Usually, a face like hers might appear somewhat plain, but hers did not. She was like a deep-red flower petal holding the morning mist, or perhaps like great swaths of such blossoms filling an entire garden.

At first glance, she was all he could see. Everything else disappeared from view.

The man had initially assumed she was Shen Ce's woman. Ever since she came in, she had been circling the ring, with eyes only for Shen Ce. So he had put aside any thought of getting to know her. Only when he heard Zhaozhao call Shen Ce ge did he finally understand. She was his younger sister.

“Hello. My surname is Liang, Liang Jinhua. My younger brother has mentioned you.”

This man was entirely different from Liang Jinrong. Their facial features were quite dissimilar, too. He was more rugged, with stronger masculine features, and appeared to be in his thirties.

Zhaozhao was just about to respond when Shen Ce interrupted. “You two go to the lounge first.”

Zhaozhao gave the man a polite smile and left ahead of them.

Liang Jinhua watched her go. “The moment I saw your younger sister, a few lines of poetry came to mind, though none of them quite fit.”

By the wine-shop, the woman is moonlike, her fair wrists as white as frost and snow.

Shen Ce had thought of this line before, at the flower cake shop.

Liang Jinhua was already past thirty and had begun considering pursuing a suitable woman he liked so that they could start a family together. He had previously heard that the younger brother from the third branch had been making great efforts to court the new girl in the Shen family. Having seen her today, he felt that the effort was well worth it.

“Where are you going later? What does your younger sister like?” He wanted to get to know her, too.

Because Zhaozhao had made him step out of the fight just before it began, Shen Ce's desire to draw blood had not yet fully subsided. His eyes were narrowed slightly as he unwound the hemp rope from his hands and tossed it into the bucket of water. The backs of his hands were covered in crisscrossing marks left by the tight wraps.

“She already has someone.”

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Forever Jiangnan Chapter 6

 

Chapter Six

Step by Step into the Past (3)

Outside the window, the pier along the shore was already visible.

Shen Ce did not speak to any of the guests. He went around to the other side of the cabin and stood facing the stern. Watching the white-crested waves chasing after the yacht, he thought about last night.

Last night, Zhaozhao had been sitting on the stairs, both arms wrapped tightly around the railing as though holding on for dear life. The sight made him laugh. He crouched down and asked her whether it was dangerous to sit there. She did not answer. She was thoroughly drunk, though she was surprisingly light when he picked her up.

He carried her to the sofa in the home theater and was about to look for a blanket.

As he lowered his head, she turned her face slightly in the crook of his arm, until she was facing him directly. Her warm breath was right before him, brushing against his philtrum and lips.

As though drawn by some invisible force, all he wanted was to be close to her.

This inexplicable feeling had begun five years ago, with their encounter in the rain.

There had been so many coincidences surrounding their meeting, so many as to be almost inconceivable, enough to make a person believe that fate truly existed.

He had not originally been the one meant to go to Taizhou to pay respects to the ancestors. It was only because the elderly monk who had cared for him since childhood had fallen seriously ill that he had returned, taking the opportunity to visit Taizhou as well.

And that day, he had intended to leave immediately after paying his respects. The car had already driven out of the Shen residence when he received a call from his mother, who insisted that she absolutely had to have some flower cakes from the mainland. Ordinarily, such errands would be handled by a driver or assistant. But on that trip to Taizhou, out of respect for Master Shen, he had brought no one with him. Even the drivers belonged to the Taizhou branch of the Shen family, and he felt it inappropriate to order them about. So he asked for the address and walked there alone.

The flower cake shop was run by an elderly woman who did not usually stay at the storefront.

He had no choice but to go around to the little courtyard behind the shop to make his purchase. After buying the cakes, he was on his way out when, not paying attention, he collided with a basket hanging from a tree and injured the bridge of his nose. The old woman insisted on bringing him back inside to disinfect the wound and apply medicine. Then she could not find the medicine. She was so well-meaning and so determined not to let him leave that he could only wait patiently.

That delay cost him a full twenty minutes.

An injury for no apparent reason, a wait for no apparent reason, and, for no apparent reason, patience toward an elderly stranger, enough to sit on a woven bamboo stool in the courtyard and wait.

As though everything had happened simply to keep him there.

Outside, it was exceptionally quiet that day.

He had assumed that, with the rain and so much water collecting in the narrow alley, there would surely be no other customers.

Until, just as he was about to leave, when he had barely lifted the cloth curtain, he suddenly heard someone ask, "Hello, I'd like to buy some flower cakes."

A girl's clear, bright voice, like a burst of light exploding in his mind.

He had never experienced such a feeling before. Even his steps as he walked out were hesitant, carrying a trace of curiosity about what kind of girl she might be.

The fire in the stove in the main room illuminated a small portion of the house. Outside stood a girl of about thirteen or fourteen, her back to the daylight, her gaze reaching past the front room toward him. His heart suddenly constricted, his vision abruptly blurring. Staring at the outline of her figure, he hurried two steps forward before finally seeing her clearly by the light from outside.

An unfamiliar face.

She had an oval face and bright, clear almond-shaped eyes. She wore a cape-style trench coat against the cold. Her shoulder-length black hair was slightly damp from the rain. She stood at the edge of the step outside the counter, with lines of rain falling from the eaves behind her. He had never seen a girl who looked like this, as though she had been fashioned from pure white mutton-fat jade.

Later, as though possessed by some inexplicable impulse, he changed his return flight. It was because he had noticed the little jade pendant hanging around her neck. It was a gift given to the younger members of the Taizhou Shen family, one for each of them.

Back at the Shen residence, he gave a brief description of her clothing, and her older brothers identified her as one of the "twins."

Afterward, while drinking tea with Master Shen, he deliberately or casually steered the conversation toward the twins, until he finally had the chance to see her again. That evening, too, everything had been intentional. Why had he wanted to see her once, then see her again? Even he could not say.

He had endured many hardships since childhood and experienced much, so naturally he had a great deal on his mind. Whatever he did, he always planned before acting. There had to be a purpose, an outcome, or at the very least some discernible benefit.

Only that day had been an exception.

…

The protagonist of the film was still reciting his lines. Irritation stirred in him, and he muted the sound.

Over the past two days, he had been catching up on quite a few French films, hoping to recover what he had learned in his youth, afraid he had grown too rusty. Zhaozhao had grown up in a French-speaking region. If the two of them could communicate in French, they would become considerably closer. Yet tonight's film happened to be a romance, about the unspoken feelings surging beneath the surface between a German officer and a French girl after the German occupation of Paris, their loyalties to their respective countries placing them on opposing sides.

Feelings too difficult to put into words. So it was in the film, and so it was here.

Her breathing was very light. The smell of alcohol was faint; stronger was the delicate medicinal scent of the hangover remedy.

"Zhaozhao."

She frowned slightly, her eyelashes slowly fluttering. As though it took tremendous effort, she still could not open her eyes, and gave a sleepy "Mm."

He lowered his head, intending to call her again, just as she happened to turn her face. Her eyelashes trembled faintly, and her eyelids moved too. She was clearly awake.

"Are you awake?" he asked.

She tried again, slowly forcing her eyelids apart. This time she finally opened her eyes, but still gave a reluctant "Mm," as though she found him annoying for constantly disturbing her sleep.

"Are you pretending, or are you really drunk?" He studied her.

His breath as he spoke enveloped her. Unable to withstand this provocation, she opened her eyes fully this time. Shen Ce saw that her dark, dark pupils were filled entirely with his reflection.

She frowned again and said slowly, "You weren't here today, so I went to the greenhouse. The one on the rooftop. The asparagus ferns are growing so well, and the narcissus too. They're blooming so beautifully… Has your girlfriend ever come to see them?"

"I don't have a girlfriend," he said softly.

Now he believed she was not pretending.

Zhaozhao would never speak so directly when she was fully awake.

She tilted her head and glanced at the images playing silently on the screen. "A romance."

A drunk person's thoughts jumped from one thing to another, and so did their words.

The images from the film were reflected in Zhaozhao's pupils. "It's a little stifling," she said softly, a note of resentment in her voice. "They never say anything. Even when they like someone, they won't say it… It's so stifling it makes my chest ache."

"I really want to say it for them." Her voice gradually faded.

Zhaozhao's eyelids drooped slightly. She really was about to fall asleep.

Shen Ce held her half in his arms, looking at her as she slept in his shadow.

"Say what?" he prompted.

Her memory was like quicksand slipping away. She had completely forgotten that her previous remark had been about the film. Puzzled, she pressed her lips together, then relaxed them again. He could even see how the little creases at the corners of her mouth formed when she pursed her lips, then smoothed out.

Shen Ce wondered where her thoughts would wander next.

"When you called, I deliberately didn't answer," she said dejectedly. "You could tell."

That had not been difficult to figure out.

"Will you call again?"

The room darkened as the film changed scenes.

Light one moment, darkness the next.

"I will." His palm settled around her arm, but he did not move it.

He could not move it anymore.

Without warning, she grew restless. Uneasily, she began fiddling with the buttons of his pure cotton shirt, working her fingers into the gap between two buttons. She could not get them through, and as though struggling against something, she grew increasingly dissatisfied.

Her fingers kept worrying at the gap between the buttons, slowly drying up every last trace of moisture in his throat.

He straightened his back and, slowly, undid a button with one hand.

The girl's fingers slipped inside, searching his body for the place she wanted. The waves of heat in Shen Ce's body rose higher, washing again and again against the wall between them.

When she was younger, he could hold her against him, their ten fingers interlaced as they shook a dice cup, without a single improper thought. Back then, all he had wanted was to make her happy. But now, the man's body was beginning to recognize the woman in his arms.

Living in the little house had definitely not been a wise choice.

The quiet of the upstairs and downstairs flowed freely between them. Even the stillness of the underground garage seemed to seep upward, fanning this wildfire into a blaze.

He reached toward the coffee table, trying to find the remote and turn the sound back on. He needed noise to put out the fire.

His hand knocked the remote aside, sending it falling heavily to the floor with a thud.

Startled by the loud noise in her sleep, she dug the fingers resting against his waist into him, pouring another splash of oil straight onto the wildfire.

At last, Shen Ce lowered his head, parted his lips slightly, and touched her upper lip with his. The instant he felt her upper lip tremble, a suffocating sensation seized his heart. Both of them went still. Beneath his lips, she seemed to be wondering what they were doing.

The soft, heated sensation held him fast.

Suddenly, it was as though countless illusions had wrapped themselves around him. His back turned cold and hot by turns. He seemed to see flames filling the sky, the shadows of torches bearing down beneath a fierce wind, and felt a desolation like being surrounded by enemies on every side.

Zhaozhao imitated him, gently taking his lower lip between hers. The soft pressure held him fast.

He had never imagined he could be so patient when kissing a girl. Slowly, his lips brushed past her philtrum and moved to her lower lip. This time, he parted his lips completely, and they drew each other's lips between their own.

His palm remained on her arm, stroking back and forth with tireless patience.

…

After arriving in Macau, Shen Ce arranged for more than a dozen cars to wait at the pier and take the guests arriving from Hong Kong to their hotels, including Zhaozhao's two older cousins.

Zhaozhao watched her cousins leave, then got into Shen Ce's car to accompany him to the Shen residence.

The car drove away from the pier. Before long, Zhaozhao caught sight of a sign for Fisherman's Wharf as they passed and turned her head back. "Is that the Fisherman's Wharf from the song?"

The man sitting beside her was taking off his casual suit jacket and seemed not to understand what she meant.

The driver in front laughed and said, "No, Miss Shen. The song is called Fool's Wharf. It's the 'fool' meaning foolish."

Zhaozhao suddenly understood. She had remembered it wrong.

Making a mistake in front of a stranger was somewhat embarrassing, especially when Shen Ce had heard the entire exchange. The afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, casting light across his short hair and the bridge of his nose. Bathed in that light, he was still teasing her with his eyes.

"That song is quite nice," she said, hoping to move past the subject.

Shen Ce nodded.

She had just been feeling grateful that he had not laughed at her when he spoke. "You've certainly managed to hold back from asking about last night."

Zhaozhao's heart gave a jump.

She could not tell from Shen Ce's tone whether anything untoward had actually happened. Carefully, she went over the fragments of memory left from last night, piecing together a rough picture of herself acting spoiled and demanding water, of him taking such good care of her, and of the embarrassing part where she had touched his hand. The car was too quiet, and she did not want the driver to overhear, so she leaned a little toward Shen Ce.

"Whatever happened, I'll apologize first."

Shen Ce turned his head and glanced at her.

Zhaozhao had meant to whisper, but now that they were face-to-face, it was even harder to speak.

Keeping her voice low, she said sincerely, "Back home, I was always very close to my brothers. I'm used to it. Mom often says that my brothers and I have no sense of proper boundaries."

Seeing that he remained silent, Zhaozhao added, "I really do think of you as an older brother. Whatever nonsense I got up to while drunk, please don't take it seriously."

Shen Ce lowered his head, his breath falling against the space between her brows. He seemed about to say something, but held himself back.

Zhaozhao grew uneasy.

"I was only trying to chat with you a little so we could become closer," he finally said. "When you were little, you were much more at ease with me. Now, after barely a few words, you're already apologizing."

His words made her feel guilty about the distance she had deliberately kept between them today.

"It's mainly because we haven't seen each other in years."

Shen Ce sat up straight and told the driver to put on some music.

"When I was giving you water last night, you spilled it on me," he said casually. "That's why I wanted to tease you a little."

Zhaozhao immediately felt relieved.

After driving for a while, the car passed through a pair of open iron gates and arrived at the Shen residence.

Since this was Zhaozhao's first visit, Shen Ce had originally wanted her to get out just inside the main gates so they could walk across the lawn together. But Zhaozhao thought that her older sister, who had already arrived a day earlier, must be waiting anxiously for her, so she stayed in the car.

Unexpectedly, as the car passed the lawn, two children stopped it anyway. Through the open car window, a boy poked his head inside and called out with a smile, "Little Uncle!"

His round, dark eyes shifted to Shen Zhaozhao's face and brightened considerably.

"Is she Little Auntie?"

Zhaozhao hurriedly said, "No."

After her, Shen Ce also said, "She's your little maternal aunt."

The corners of the boy's mouth drooped, showing the disappointment of someone whose hopes had been dashed many times before.

But he quickly waved at Zhaozhao in greeting.

Since the wedding banquet was not until the following week, most of the Shen family had yet to arrive, and the entire building was very quiet.

Only a few young women were cleaning the hall on the first floor.

Shen Ce arranged for her to stay on the second floor, in the room next to her sister's. When they reached the rooms, her sister's door was standing open. She had left it that way to wait for Zhaozhao. Hearing their voices, her sister ran out and embraced her. As she hugged Zhaozhao, she smiled politely at Shen Ce.

"Anyway, I'm not going along with Mom on this. We hardly ever see each other, so I'll just keep calling you Shen Ce, all right?"

Shen Ce did not mind and nodded.

The form of address she had agonized over for days was settled by her sister in a single sentence. No wonder he had said she had been closer and more at ease with him when she was little. Taking her sister as an example and reflecting on her own behavior over the past two days, Zhaozhao felt even more strongly that the distance she had kept that morning had been her own doing.

Look how open and straightforward he was. She was the one who had been seeing problems where there were none.

"You two catch up." Before leaving, he lightly patted the back of Zhaozhao's shoulder. "I won't be here for dinner. I'll be back very late."

✦

m&m: I CAN'T BREATHE

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Forever Jiangnan Chapter 5

 

Chapter Five

Step by Step into the Past (2)

Zhaozhao stood before the bathroom mirror, a wooden comb in hand, feeling dizzy as she gazed at herself in distress.

Distressed over whether or not to answer the phone.

The mirror was exceptionally wide, five times as wide as it was tall, reflecting the entire bathroom. Pavilions and towers had been etched into the frosted glass on either side. A soft light shone from behind the mirror, spilling out around its edges and framing it in a faint white glow.

The bathroom was bathed in yellow light. Only the edges of the mirror were white, like moonlight.

The ringing was clear and loud. The intercom sounded when everything was at its quietest.

She didn't move, staring at the receiver nestled in the brown wooden latticework. That strange feeling crept into her heart again.

Back when her mother first began having dealings with the Shen family in Macau, she had secretly rejoiced. Perhaps one day, her mother would invite this older brother to their home as a guest, and then she would be able to see him again. After that, whenever her mother mentioned Macau, she listened attentively, hoping to glean some information about him.

Her mother said that on the night of the wedding, she had tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep until dawn. When the sunlight fell on her, she actually felt more awake. It was truly inexplicable. They had only met once, and she didn't even know what she was so upset about.

The ringing stopped.

Soon after, there was a knock at the door.

"Coming!" She tossed the comb into the wooden box.

With her hand on the doorknob, she thought about it and decided there was nothing inappropriate about what she was wearing. She opened the door straightaway. Before she had even gotten a clear look at Shen Ce standing outside, she hurried to explain, "I heard the phone ringing. I just didn't get to it in time."

"I thought you'd passed out drunk." He smiled. Perhaps because he could see that she was all right, his posture and tone were relaxed.

"No, I haven't. I wouldn't. How could I?" Zhaozhao smiled back at him.

"There's some medicine for the hangover downstairs."

She shook her head. "I don't need to take that. Really."

She was already dizzy from the alcohol, and shaking her head only made it worse.

Two cocktails. The second had been very strong. Shen Ce had no experience with cocktails, having never drunk them himself, and had simply asked the waiter to bring her the most popular one to try. That little taste had turned into trouble.

Shen Ce could see that the fingers Zhaozhao had curled around the edge of the doorframe were pressing faintly into the wood. In truth, she had no strength in them.

He didn't point out that she was drunk. "Too lazy to go downstairs? Want me to bring it up?"

Zhaozhao shook her head again. "I'm waiting for a phone call."

She was trying to find an excuse to close the door, unwilling to make a spectacle of herself in front of him.

"I'll leave it outside your room. Come out and get it yourself after your call," he said before leaving.

Afraid that he would bring the medicine upstairs and see through her excuse, Zhaozhao turned on the sound system. The bass vibrated through the floor beneath her feet.

There was another knock at the door, though this time it was merely a formality, letting her know the hangover medicine had been left outside. She was certain the rest of the night would pass peacefully and without incident. But things did not go as she expected. The hangover medicine was only the beginning of the night.

Half an hour later, she was so thirsty that she drank the hangover medicine as though it were water. Finding it insufficient, she felt her way downstairs in the dark. She had barely taken two steps when her legs gave way and she sat down on the stairs. The moment her bottom touched the wooden step, she forgot why she had wanted to go downstairs in the first place. Hugging the balusters beneath the stair railing, she wished she could fall asleep right then and there.

At first, she was still conscious of the fact that she couldn't sleep sitting there. The carved patterns on the railing dug painfully into her forehead, and she complained to the empty air. Gradually, she drifted deeper into her dreams.

In her dream, she was at the waterside pavilion of the Shen family's old residence. Beneath the blazing sun, she lay against the railing overlooking the water and stretched out her hand, trying to scoop up some water to drink. A hand caught her wrist and asked whether she knew how dangerous it was to sit there. She tried to break free, thinking only of cupping some water in her hands to drink, but no matter how far she reached, she couldn't touch the surface.

In the end, the rim of a cup put an end to her complaints. She was fed one mouthful after another. The cup was small, and she grumbled about it, so it was exchanged for a larger one. She drank until her mouth was no longer dry and the unbearable heat and restlessness had subsided.

Someone wiped the sweat from her with a towel. A cool breeze blew gently, making her cold.

Then warmth covered her, and she began mumbling that she was hot again. Something cool brushed over her hands and arms, until finally her hand was enveloped in that coolness. Zhaozhao remembered going out to see the snow in winter when she was little. Her mother had held her and her elder sister by the hand, one on each side, and her hands had been just as cold.

Her hand was held very tightly. She resisted, wanting to pull away. The other person loosened their grip a little, but soon tightened it again.

In the end, she chose to give up, letting her right hand remain captive as she sank into a deeper sleep.

Zhaozhao woke up early in the morning.

To her surprise, she was covered with a blanket, sleeping in the home theater. The sofa was exceptionally wide. She had been sleeping toward the inner side, leaving more than half of it empty in front of her.

The room was utterly silent. The image projected onto the wall was frozen. Zhaozhao found it familiar and studied it for a moment before recognizing it as the French film Le Silence de la mer. She had seen it before. It was a little dull.

And judging by the symbol on the screen, it was in mute mode.

He had actually watched such a dull film on mute. How patient of him.

"Figured you'd be waking up about now."

The person pushing open the door was carrying a wooden tray. On it was a bowl of piping-hot white congee, freshly cooked, with slices of raw fish visible in the porridge. It was fish-slice congee, with the fish cooked directly in the boiling porridge. The remaining small dishes held side dishes: wood ear mushrooms with wasabi and salted boiled peanuts.

She immediately sat upright and searched for her slippers. Her feet slid around beside the sofa a couple of times, but she couldn't find them.

Shen Ce set the wooden tray on the coffee table, found her slippers, picked them up, and tossed them lightly at her feet.

"Did you make this?" Zhaozhao was beside herself with panic, but she gave nothing away. She even pretended to be taking in the aroma of the congee.

"Bought it," he denied.

They hadn't stocked the ingredients needed to make this here, and even if they had, he might not have made it well. He had never been particularly good at cooking.

Zhaozhao wanted to ask, How did I end up here last night?

But she was afraid of hearing an unpleasant account of what had happened, and even more afraid that she might have spoken the truth while drunk, saying something that would embarrass them both. Tormented by these speculations, she hesitated. When she finally opened her mouth, she called out, "Ge."

The atmosphere in the room changed abruptly. There was a brief silence.

Shen Ce raised his eyes, and his gaze struck her straight in the heart.

Her heart gave an inexplicable twinge.

Zhaozhao smiled faintly at him. "I've finally gotten used to it."

He still said nothing. His eyes were like the surface of a pond beneath the blazing sun. When the wind passed over it, ripples spread across the water, and the reflected light dazzled the eyes.

As though he had seen through Zhaozhao's little trick, seen through her fear that something improper had happened last night and her attempt to use a form of address to remind them both of their relationship.

Zhaozhao pressed on, one sentence after another. "It took me so much effort to finally say it. At least answer me."

As though she were determined to force a response out of him.

At last, Shen Ce withdrew the sharpness from his gaze. He shifted his feet and moved away from her. "So you've finally decided what to call me after all."

"That's right." Zhaozhao smiled softly and lowered her head to smell the fish congee.

She picked up her chopsticks. "How are we getting across the sea? Didn't you say there were some friends of Uncle's coming too?"

He didn't use the remote, but switched off the player directly. "Once your two cousins arrive, we'll take a yacht across."

To show how interested she was in breakfast, Zhaozhao kept eating without pause. "The congee smells so good. Are you sure you don't want any?"

She picked up her spoon and took two spoonfuls in succession. It was far hotter than it looked. As it slid down her throat, it nearly scalded tears out of her eyes...

She really was having a run of bad luck. A little alcohol was enough to get her drunk, and even a mouthful of congee had to burn her.

Shen Ce had meant to warn her that it was hot, but hadn't been quick enough. Seeing her wanting to suck in a breath but pretending nothing was wrong because he was there, he opened the door and left.

"Take your time. It's only just dawn."

Today's journey went much more smoothly than the one two days earlier.

At first, Zhaozhao had been afraid of being alone with him, but later realized she had worried for nothing. Apart from her and her older female cousins, there were friends of Shen Ce's father, friends of his own, and quite a few other people.

The journey was short, but with guests to pick up and bring aboard the yacht one after another, introductions to arrange, and pleasantries to exchange, Shen Ce was the busiest person there.

He had no time to pay attention to her at all. It seemed he truly didn't regard her as an outsider. Throughout their time on the yacht, he didn't say a single word of greeting to her. There were four seating areas arranged on the deck, and he remained in the one farthest from her.

Her older cousin Shen Jiayan teased Zhaozhao. "This brother of yours doesn't seem very warm toward you?"

"No, he's actually quite nice," Zhaozhao explained on his behalf. "There are so many guests today."

Her cousin was very interested in Shen Ce. Figuring that Zhaozhao probably didn't know much about him personally, so asking more questions would be pointless, she instead talked with Zhaozhao about his family's circumstances. After all, Zhaozhao's mother had been dealing with them for more than four years before the marriage.

The Shen family was good at keeping things hidden.

Their companies weren't publicly listed, so there were no published financial statements to examine. Zhaozhao could only pick up a few things from her mother's occasional remarks. Their main business was logistics, along with real estate both at home and abroad. They also participated in overseas infrastructure projects and the gambling industry. Many of the projects they were involved in weren't particularly profitable, but they aligned with the government's foreign policy direction. In that sense, they were a typical national enterprise.

"Real estate is hard to say anything about. None of the information is public. But you can get some idea from the gambling side," Zhaozhao analyzed for them. "Last year, I learned how to read financial statements from my mom, so I can make some estimates. There's a newly opened casino in Macau, funded by an American investor. This man owns casinos in both Las Vegas and Macau. In 2004, his net worth was three billion US dollars. Since Macau opened up, in just two years, his net worth has climbed to more than twenty billion dollars."

"Last year, he was bringing in a million US dollars every hour," Zhaozhao said.

One could imagine just how profitable that business was.

Half an hour later, the groups of people who had been chatting dispersed, introducing themselves and getting acquainted with one another.

Zhaozhao wasn't in a particularly good mood, so she went into the cabin.

There was no one inside. She sat down on the sofa, leaned her head back, and gazed at the blue sky beyond the glass. The glass doors stood open, letting the air-conditioning clash with the heat outside. On her left was a gentle stream of cool air; beside her right arm, waves of sweltering heat.

"Not very happy?" Shen Ce walked in. "We're almost there, and now you decide to come into the cabin?"

"I'm afraid they'll come over and talk to me." It was the best excuse she could think of. "I've been at a girls' school for so long that I'm not used to talking to boys anymore."

In truth, she simply couldn't summon any enthusiasm.

"Why did you go to a girls' school?" Shen Ce went over to the bar in front of her and handed his glass to the bartender.

"There are a few good private schools there, but they're all church schools," Zhaozhao said helplessly. "I didn't want to go to a church school, and after narrowing down the choices, there were only two left. The girls' school offered ballet lessons, which my mom liked."

Shen Ce nodded. "I can tell. You don't believe in their religion."

Ever since that morning, there had been a certain distance between them.

Even now, as they spoke, they were neither particularly close nor particularly distant.

"The cocktails here are all pretty good." In the end, it was Shen Ce who made the first gesture of reconciliation. He beckoned to her. "Come try one."

Relieved, Zhaozhao walked over. "I'm not drinking alcohol anymore. Can I have something nonalcoholic?"

"Even if you asked for alcohol, I wouldn't give you any. You get drunk and start making trouble, and after you've finished making trouble..." He smiled and left the rest unsaid.

Zhaozhao pretended not to hear.

Shen Ce ordered her a nonalcoholic cocktail, then asked the bartender for some dice. They played as they drank.

On Zhaozhao's very first throw, she rolled two fours.

He couldn't help laughing. "What good luck."

What was so lucky about two fours?

The bartender didn't understand. Wasn't double six the highest roll?

"Those dice I gave you, have you lost them?" Shen Ce rested an arm along the edge of the bar and chatted casually with her.

"No," she answered at once. "They're at home."

It was a lie. She had actually brought them with her.

He didn't react much. "I thought you might have brought them."

"Why would I bring dice with me?" Zhaozhao gave a feigned little laugh. "What a bother."

"True enough."

His tone remained flat, without the slightest trace of emotion.

Zhaozhao held her glass in both hands and lowered her head to sip her drink. Leaning against the bar felt uncomfortable, but standing straight didn't feel right either, all because of that one lie she'd told.

She simply hadn't wanted to reveal what was on her mind, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that her last remark had made it sound as though she didn't value the gift at all. After all, it was something he had given her sincerely.

"Besides," she added, unable to overcome her guilty conscience after all, "it'd be easy to lose them if I brought them out."

Shen Ce smiled.

He scooped up the dice and tossed them. The pinewood dice rolled half a turn across the round, orange-yellow felt mat before coming to rest. Double fours again.

His mood improved even further.

"It's only a set of dice. If you lose them, I'll make another." There was finally some warmth in his voice. "I'm going to see to the guests. Can you look after yourself?"

Zhaozhao nodded.

When only she and the bartender were left, one of them wiped glasses while the other leaned over the bar, absently pressing an index finger against a die and slowly turning it, troubled by the fluctuations in her own mood.

They had only been seeing each other for three days. What on earth was wrong with her?

Had she fallen under some spell?

✦

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