DBTHDCAR Chapter 37

Rumble… rumble…

A clap of thunder rolled from the horizon toward the school gate. Sitting in the guard’s room, Old Dou lowered the half-read newspaper and poked his head out the window, squinting at the darkened sky.

The black, oppressive clouds covered the whole sky, and the air was so humid it seemed you could wring water from it. It was nearly late May, early June, the start of the Jiangnan plum-rain season, when rainfall was heaviest and the air most irritatingly sticky.

“Hey, young man, where are you headed during class hours?”

Old Dou was about to close the window when he saw a student slowly wheeling a bicycle from the bike shed.

“Hello, uncle. I’m Ning Xiaobei from Preparatory Class One. I’m sick, and this is a doctor’s note from the school clinic.”

Ning Xiaobei lifted his head. His normally pale cheeks were flushed with an unnatural red, and even his breathing seemed a little strained. “The teacher allowed me to skip afternoon classes and go home to rest for a few hours.”

He had probably overdone it last night. Seeking relief from the stifling heat, he had kept his Hongyun fan running all night, and unfortunately ended up catching a relapse. His asthma hadn’t flared up since the New Year, so he’d grown careless and neglected his health.

Old Dou took the note, confirmed the signatures from both the nurse and the class teacher, then stood and opened the small iron gate beside him.

“Hey, student, are you really all right? Your face is so red. Want to use my phone to call your parents? Can you even ride your bike home like this?”

“My house is close to school. I’ll be there soon. Thank you, uncle.”

Ning Xiaobei shook his head, pushed the bike through the gate, tried mounting twice, and finally settled on the seat, pedaling slowly toward the Workers’ New Village.

It wasn’t that he was trying to be stubborn and avoid letting Ning Jianguo come pick him up. Earlier, while he was in Yan Bingru’s office, she had already called his house twice, no answer.

Ning Jianguo had been busy arranging a major matter recently, and was often away from home.

Ning Xiaobei remembered his father mentioning it: apparently Aunt Wang downstairs had heard through someone that a government-run cafeteria in the textile system was looking for a contractor. She had asked Ning Jianguo if he wanted to take the job.

Uncle Zhao thought it was a good opportunity and advised him to grab it quickly.

A government cafeteria would be stable work, unlike the current factory and unit jobs, which were all uncertain. Who knew what today would bring for tomorrow?

Ning Jianguo also held a national-level level two chef certificate, which is a hardcore credential. In addition, the meals at the Third Shoe Factory had always been famous within the system for being excellent.

After the factory closed, all the cafeteria staff were laid off. If he could pull this group of laid-off women together and take on the government cafeteria contract, it would solve a group of unemployed women’s jobs while also letting Ning Jianguo keep his original employee status in the textile and footwear system. That way, the years of service he had refused to cash out before could continue uninterrupted.

The idea was solid, and with someone as well-connected as Aunt Wang paving the way, it seemed promising, but Ning Jianguo had spent over ten years doing highly specialized technical work. Running a cafeteria was very different from cooking at home; he was a complete outsider here.

The most critical point: if he really wanted to restart, it would require a large upfront investment. Though Ning Jianguo had saved a fair amount over the years, hiring staff to run a cafeteria would far exceed his personal funds, it would barely be a drop in the bucket.

Still, Uncle Zhao and Aunt Wang were very supportive. Both had recently started their own businesses, one running domestic goods store on Xiangyang Road, the other renting an office at Nanmatou for foreign trade. Though both were relatively new entrepreneurs, their previous networks and sales channels from their old jobs had already brought them some success. Both offered to invest part of their funds and become shareholders in Ning Jianguo’s new venture.

Thinking that his father was probably busy with business again, Ning Xiaobei decided to head home by himself.

He opened the door, tossed his keys aside, and collapsed onto the living room sofa, closing his eyes in exhaustion.

From the window came the patter of rain, raindrops hitting the green waterproof canopy. The rain grew steadily heavier, interspersed with distant rumbles of thunder.

Ning Xiaobei dozed off, then woke and glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing he had unknowingly slept for more than half an hour.

He coughed twice; his throat felt burning and sore, so he got up and went to the kitchen for water.

Standing by the kitchen counter, Ning Xiaobei faintly heard music from downstairs; soft and lilting,his father’s favorite: Teresa Teng’s 《 I Only Care About You》

“Is Dad at Uncle Zhao’s house?”

Ning Xiaobei set down the cup, opened the door, and headed upstairs.

≈≈≈ If I hadn’t met you, where would I be? ≈≈≈

Miss Teng’s voice sang gently, and Ning Xiaobei walked unsteadily, lost in the music.

≈≈≈ How would my days go by, and would life be worth cherishing?≈≈≈

He leaned on the railing, looking through the carved brick wall at the curtain of rain pouring down outside the building.

≈≈≈ Maybe it’s meeting someone else, living ordinary life. ≈≈≈

When he reached the door of Room 216, Ning Xiaobei raised his hand to knock, only to find the door slightly ajar. The singing was coming from inside.

≈≈≈ I don’t know if I’d also have a love as sweet as honey ≈≈≈

Normally, even if the door were open, Ning Xiaobei would knock first, waiting for permission before stepping in.

But now, maybe his brain was fried, or maybe it was just fate, his hand hovered in midair for a moment and then gently pushed the door open.

The first thing he saw was a curtain. A dark-colored curtain.

Ning Xiaobei froze, puzzled why there was a curtain hanging between the Zhaos’ living room and the entryway.

Then he noticed a red light streaming from above the curtain.

— Are they developing photos?

He guessed.

Ever since the last outing, when Fan Xia had brought back that Canon camera and a dozen rolls of film, the camera hadn’t been returned.

Zhao Jingwen’s company had just launched a new line of fashion. Sharp as ever, he immediately put the camera to use. He had several tall, pretty girls model the new clothes, planning to later display the photos in the glass windows of his store as advertising.

These clothes were hot items, procured through his special business contacts in Guangzhou and Shenzhen, styles not yet popular anywhere on the Shanghai streets.

Competition was fierce on Xiangyang Road. To prevent rivals from copying designs before they officially hit shelves, Zhao Jingwen hadn’t allowed anyone outside to get samples. That’s why he personally developed these photos instead of sending them to an outside photo lab.

“Uncle Zhao, is my dad here?”

Ning Xiaobei stepped forward and whispered.

He didn’t dare barge in. If the curtain was pulled back and the photos got exposed, the loss wouldn’t be small.

≈≈≈ Let time rush by, I only care about you.≈≈≈

The song from the tape recorder was as thick and sticky as the rain outside, steaming up the air, misting the room, drowning out even Ning Xiaobei’s almost inaudible voice.

“Uncle…”

Ning Xiaobei pressed a hand to his chest, which ached from the stifling heat, about to raise his voice to ask again. But from behind the curtain came a breathy sound.

It was a gasp, a muffled moan, faint and weak, like a drifting thread, dissolving into the misty air of the room.

Ning Xiaobei froze.

It was Ning Jianguo’s voice.

“Why did you go take photos with Xiao Wang and the others… and pick my business trip time on purpose? What are you trying to do? If I hadn’t seen this roll of film, how long would you have hidden it from me?”

Zhao Jingwen’s deep voice cut through, laced with danger and unmistakable possessiveness.

Ning Xiaobei lowered his head.

Through the slight gap between the hanging curtain and the floor, he saw dark red light spilling out, like red blood running across his white sneakers.

“Xiaobei… he wants a mother.”

Ning Jianguo said softly, then let out a low, sudden groan.

Ning Xiaobei stumbled back half a step.

≈≈≈ I willingly let your presence touch me. ≈≈≈

The sigh from Miss Teng on the tape recorder echoed.

“So… you’re going to marry Xiao Wang? Are you really going to abandon me, just for our son?”

Zhao Jingwen’s questions came fast and sharp, each one dripping with anger.

At the same time, responding to him, was Ning Jianguo’s faint, almost infant-like whimper.

Splash, splash…the sound of the film developing in the tray mingled with the pouring rain outside.

“No, it’s not like that. I asked Xiao Wang to help me… I just wanted to make Xiaobei happy.”

“You want Xiaobei to be happy… so you’re going to marry her?”

“No… Xiaobei has never met his mother. He’s never had a normal family life. I just wanted him to experience it once. Even if it’s fake… sob…”

The sudden, heightened sobbing drowned out the song from the record player.

Ning Xiaobei crossed his hands over his mouth tightly.

“Xiao Wang is only helping me this once. She has someone she likes…really, the person she likes isn’t me.”

Red light poured through the curtain, casting their black silhouettes onto the fabric. Around him, he could hear the faint rustle of cloth, like whispers of movement. Ning Xiaobei felt as if his feet weren’t on the solid wooden floor at all, but stepping on clouds.

The voices stopped. Behind the curtain, something on the table fell with a clang, the table leg scraping against the floor tiles. The rain grew louder, and the humid air thickened.

Just as he turned to bolt out the front door, Ning Xiaobei heard a sound inside his chest like a bowstring snapping.

He ran, glancing back as the white mist chased him.

The fog floated through the hall, leaving sweat stains on the walls. The moisture seeped into the yellowed paint, forming the characteristic mildew spots of the plum-rain season. Over time, overlapping stains piled up in corners and beneath the window sills, forming eerie clusters that looked like black peonies.

Ning Xiaobei ran up to the second floor, pushed open the door, and didn’t even change his shoes. He curled up under the sofa, hugging his knees, his eyes blankly fixed on the black television screen.

He picked up the remote and switched through channels from one to eight, but none had a program. Either there was static, multicolored grids, or simply the message: 【Signal Adjustment in Progress.】

Of course. It was Tuesday afternoon. Every week at this time, the station took a half-day break, showing nothing until the evening news.

Ning Xiaobei turned off the television and continued to stare blankly.

After about five or six minutes, he heard a cough from next door, followed by the sound of a door opening— the old lady in Room 315 had finished her afternoon nap and was up.

Still half-dazed, Ning Xiaobei got up, went to the entryway, took off his shoes, and then padded back to his room. He completely emptied his mind and lay down on his small bed.

He couldn’t believe that when he had come upstairs from the second floor just now, he had even closed the door for them!

He couldn’t help but admire himself.

The corridor apartments had terrible soundproofing. He widened his eyes and listened to the scraping of chairs outside. As usual, the old lady would take a rattan chair out by her door at this time, listening to the radio while waiting for her daughter-in-law to pick up her grandson from kindergarten.

≈≈≈ Match the mandarin ducks, match the mandarin ducks¹Mandarin ducks (鸳鸯) symbolize lifelong love and perfect couples in Chinese culture; yet alas, your Ying Tai is not dressed as a bride.≈≈≈

After the initial static, the radio broadcast a snippet of the Yue opera Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai — the 【Eighteen Farewells】 scene.

The old lady’s hearing was poor; normally her speech was sharp and loud, and she always turned the radio and TV all the way up.

Brother Shanbo’s booming voice completely drowned out Teresa Teng’s soft, romantic music from downstairs.

Suddenly, Ning Xiaobei felt freezing cold, shivering uncontrollably.

He pulled the folded thin blanket over himself. Still unsatisfied, he buried his head inside it.

≈≈≈ At this temple where Guanyin Bodhisattva²Guanyin Bodhisattva (观音菩萨) is traditionally seen as a goddess of mercy and sometimes invoked in old folk belief as a divine matchmaker in choices of love and marriage. sits, I could lead Brother Liang, and we might perform the wedding ceremony≈≈≈

≈≈≈ Dear younger brother, the more you speak, the more absurd it gets. Two men holding a wedding ceremony?≈≈≈

A soft, sticky voice came from next door, sounding sometimes like two women, sometimes like two men.

They asked and answered, back and forth, speaking to themselves more than to each other.

He told him to read more and focus; he said he would never dare look at Guanyin again.

Ning Xiaobei closed his eyes tightly, feeling as if he were surrounded by some viscous liquid, floating and sinking with no way up, no way down.

He saw white light, then red light. One moment, he felt like he was standing bare-chested in the rain downstairs; the next, he felt like a roll of film being soaked in red liquid.

A wave of heat poured down from his forehead while a chill crept up from the soles of his feet. Exhaustion and weakness washed over Ning Xiaobei completely, and he finally gave up struggling, letting himself sink into darkness.

The sunset gradually sank, casting mottled orange-red light across the glass window, falling on the boy’s slightly flushed face as he slept.

Outside, the rain showed no sign of stopping. Through the heavy, hazy mist, a figure approached.

The figure opened the bedroom door and knelt by the bed, anxiously shaking the sleeping boy’s shoulder.

Ning Xiaobei seemed to sense something. He half-opened his eyes, looked at the top of the figure beside him, and smiled weakly.

How ridiculous…

He thought.

All along, what I believed was… not what I thought I had believed at all…

……………… 

Author’s Note:
Don’t ask, don’t speak — some things are beyond words.

====================

『dapotaturs note』

“我只在乎你 / I Only Care About You” — Teresa Teng

如果没有遇见你，我将会是在哪里？
If I hadn’t met you, where would I be?

日子过得怎么样，人生是否要珍惜？
How would my days go by, and would life be worth cherishing?

也许认识某一人，过着平凡的日子。
Maybe it’s meeting someone else, living ordinary life

不知道会不会，也有爱情甜如蜜？
I don’t know if I’d also have a love as sweet as honey.

任时光匆匆流去，我只在乎你。
Let time rush by, I only care about you.

心甘情愿感染你的气息。
I willingly let your presence touch me.

人生几何能够得到知己？
How often in life can you find someone who truly knows you?

失去生命的力量也不可惜。
Losing even life’s strength wouldn’t be a pity.

所以我求求你，别让我离开你。
So I beg you, don’t let me leave you.

除了你，我不能感到，一丝丝情意。
Except for you, I cannot feel even a hint of affection.

如果有那么一天，你说即将要离去。
If someday you say you’re about to go.

我会迷失我自己，走入无边人海里。
I would lose myself and disappear into the endless sea of people.

不要什么诺言，只要天天在一起。
I don’t need any promise, I only want us together every day.

我不能只依靠片片回忆活下去。
I cannot just live on memories alone.

====================

• 1
  Mandarin ducks (鸳鸯) symbolize lifelong love and perfect couples in Chinese culture
• 2
  Guanyin Bodhisattva (观音菩萨) is traditionally seen as a goddess of mercy and sometimes invoked in old folk belief as a divine matchmaker in choices of love and marriage.