DBTHDCAR Chapter 53

After returning from visiting the flower lady, Grandma Ning was completely exhausted. She skipped dinner and went to bed early after washing up.

Ning Jianguo anxiously asked his son what had happened. This time, Ning Xiaobei had formed a united front with Grandma Ning, clamping his mouth tight and refusing to say a word, no matter how much Dad pressed.

After dinner, Ning Xiaobei leaned against the window, gazing at the moon outside. It was already the 26th day of the 12th lunar month. The crescent moon hung high in the sky, its light pale, with not a single star in sight.

He counted the days; New Year was just a few days away. He feared that his grandmother’s old friend might not make it to the next year.

The flower-selling elderly lady had been called Shui Xiang. She had raised two daughters on the income from selling flowers. Her eldest daughter had now settled abroad in Canada, while only her youngest daughter, recently divorced, remained to care for her.

Shui Xiang’s home was only a ten-minute walk from Jiande Lane, nestled among a row of old Shikumen-style buildings.

As Ning Xiaobei helped his grandmother walk through the alley, he noticed a large “demolish” character painted on the wall. Outside the character, someone had circled it in white or red paint, which dripped down the gray walls like tears streaming from each century-old house.

Grandma Ning, seeing this, clutched her grandson’s arm tightly, closed her eyes, and turned her head. It reminded her of the circles drawn on the ground during Qingming and the Ghost Festival, when tin foil offerings were burned for the deceased.

He hugged his grandmother’s frail shoulders tightly, soothing her with words as they followed the address Shui Xiang’s daughter had given, finally arriving at Shui Xiang’s doorstep.

Old Lady Shui Xiang’s home smelled of flowers; truly fragrant. Even in the coldest winter, a sprig of plum blossom stood in a cabinet against the gray-white walls. Inside and out, the house was filled with all kinds of flowers, arranged like a greenhouse.

Old Lady Shui Xiang, wasted thin from illness, lay on her bed. Uncontrollable pain made her cry out, her eyes fixed on the white porcelain vase on the bedside table. She didn’t blink, and not even the scent of the entire house could mask the waning vigor in her body.

“Mom, Old Lady Ning has arrived.”

The youngest daughter of the old lady opened the door and welcomed Ning Xiaobei and the others in.

Old Lady Shui Xiang paid no attention, still moaning softly.

“Shui Xiang, I’m here. I came to see you.”

Grandma Ning sat on the edge of the bed, and the moment she saw her like this, she couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

“Miss, it’s Miss Jian here! Wonderful, just wonderful.”

Old Lady Shui Xiang’s expression brightened as soon as she saw Grandma Ning. She struggled to sit up, and her youngest daughter quickly stepped forward, placing a pillow behind her so she could sit upright and speak.

“Go, make tea for Miss Jian. Brew some Biluochun from Suzhou, and use the set of white porcelain cups in the second cupboard. Hurry up.”

Old Lady Shui Xiang was likely from Suzhou as well; her words carried a strong regional accent.

Ning Xiaobei concentrated for a long while before realizing that she was calling his grandmother Miss Jian.

Ah…so Grandma’s maiden name was Jian.

Ning Xiaobei lowered his head in shame. He had always thought of his grandmother simply as Grandma Ning, never bothering to remember her family name.

So that meant at her funeral in the real world, he had only learned her full name, Jian Qingxia, by reading the memorial couplet. Later, whenever he visited her grave in Suzhou every few years, he would see her full name engraved on the tombstone.

“Miss Jian, this is for you.”

After sending her daughter out, Old Lady Shui Xiang half-turned in bed and, digging through the layered blankets for a long time, finally produced something. She placed it carefully into Grandma Ning’s hands.

Ning Xiaobei leaned forward curiously, almost letting out a shout of surprise. Inside an unfolded handkerchief was a small gold bar.

“You… what does this mean?”

Grandma Ning looked at her in confusion.

Old Lady Shui Xiang lowered her head with a hint of embarrassment. Even though she was over seventy, she had the shy expression of a young girl.

“Miss, I admit I’m a little greedy. I’ve thought it over and over, and I think this… really must be returned to you.”

She brushed the strands of white hair at her temples back and tilted her head slightly.

Ning Xiaobei suddenly realized that Old Lady Shui Xiang hadn’t actually noticed him at all.

Or rather, in her world, there were only the two of them now — Her and Grandma Ning.

“When the gentleman left, he gave me a little yellow croaker¹Little yellow croaker (小黄鱼): A metaphor for a gold bar. It’s this.”

She pointed to the gold bar in Grandma Ning’s hand.

“What gentleman? Which gentleman?”

Grandma Ning’s voice suddenly rose, and her arm holding the gold bar began to tremble.

“It’s that gentleman. The one who went to Taiwan in 1938.”

Old Lady Shui Xiang lowered her head, her hands fidgeting with a corner of the quilt, her expression full of admiration. “The gentleman was really good to you, Miss. Back when he was courting you, he made me bring a bouquet of flowers to your pen counter every day. Roses on Monday, lilies on Tuesday, calla lilies on Wednesday, tuberoses on Thursday… always something different.”

Ning Xiaobei watched Grandma Ning curl herself even tighter, letting out a muffled groan from deep in her throat.

“I remember that year clearly; it was the summer solstice. The gentleman came specially to my flower shop and said he was leaving…”

“I asked him, ‘Sir, where are you going? Will you come back?’”

“He said, ‘I’m going to Taiwan.’”

“I asked, ‘Taiwan? What kind of place is that?’”

“He said, ‘It’s a small island.’”

“I said, ‘A small island? Like Chongming Island?’”

“He said, ‘I guess so.’”

“I said again, ‘Chongming Island is very close. It’s only half a day by boat. If the gentleman goes to that small island and wants to come back to Shanghai, he can just take a steamship. Sometimes I go to sell flowers at the Shiliupu Wharf, so maybe if the gentleman comes back, I’ll see him first.’”

“He said, ‘Maybe I won’t be able to get a ticket.’”

“I laughed. ‘Sir isn’t short of money, how could you not get a ticket?”

“Shui Xiang… stop. Please, don’t say any more.”

Grandma Ning held Shui Xiang’s hands, shaking her white hair.

Shui Xiang seemed not to notice, and continued speaking as if on her own.

“‘The gentleman asked: Summer is here. What flower does Miss Jian like best in summer?”

“I said: Miss Jian should wear a gardenia or a white magnolia on her chest in summer. At Shimai Department Store, the female clerks wore blue qipaos in the summer, and with a gardenia, they looked crisp and elegant. One fragrance would last the whole day.”

“Shui Xiang… please, stop…”

Big tears fell onto the edge of the quilt, soaking into translucent puddles.

“‘The gentleman then took this ‘little yellow croaker’ out of his briefcase. Here, this one,”

Shui Xiang pointed at the gold bar, laughing softly, her expression part mischievous, part embarrassed.

“He said: From now on, don’t send bouquets to the pen counter every day. This summer, just bring one gardenia or one white magnolia to Miss Jian. This is the money to buy the flowers.”

“Miss, I was terrified. Gardenias… how could one be worth a gold bar? Not just one summer, not even a hundred summers. I was about to return it to him when a black car suddenly stopped at the flower shop. Two men in black got out and… took him away. No, dragged him away…”

As she spoke, Shui Xiang suddenly began singing in her Suzhou dialect:

“Gardenia, white magnolia, five cents per flower. Gardenia, white magnolia…”

“Xiaobei, let’s go…”

Grandma Ning tossed the gold bar onto Shui Xiang’s quilt and tried to stand, leaning on her cane.

“Miss, please don’t be angry. Don’t be angry at Shui Xiang.”

Shui Xiang, seeing this, somehow found strength in her frail body. She reached out with her thin, almost skin-and-bone arm and gripped the hem of Grandma’s clothes tightly.

“I know… I accepted the gentleman’s money. I shouldn’t have taken Miss’s flower money. But all these years, every time I delivered flowers, Miss would put the money on the milk box, or on the windowsill… I know I was wrong. I was greedy, I actually accepted it. But Miss, I have to eat too. I… I deserve to be punished…”

Tears slid endlessly down Shuixiang’s cheeks. She picked up the gold bar and insisted on shoving it into Grandma Ning’s hands.

“Miss, please forgive me. I’m returning the little yellow croaker to you. Look, this pure gold little yellow croaker, ten taels per bar, I haven’t touched it. Not during [redacted event], not when my daughter’s father died, not when my daughter went abroad. I’ve been waiting for you, Miss, to return it to you. Returning it to you!”

Hearing the commotion, Shui Xiang’s youngest daughter, who had been searching for porcelain cups in the kitchen, hurried into the room. She quickly separated Shui Xiang and Grandma Ning.

“Old Lady Ning, I’m sorry. Since autumn, my mother has been sick, and her mind has become confused. She doesn’t recognize people well anymore, sometimes not even me. Whatever she says, please don’t take it to heart; it’s just nonsense.”

With an apologetic look, she carefully helped Shui Xiang back onto the bed and tucked in the quilt.

“Mom, lie back down. Don’t catch a chill.”

Ning Xiaobei held Grandma Ning steady. He felt that if he loosened his grip even slightly, Grandma might slip all the way to the floor.

Once Shui Xiang lay back down, her gaze returned to the white porcelain vase on the bedside table. Her mouth opened and closed, and Xiaobei thought she was about to speak. He listened intently, but she started crying out in pain again.

“Let’s go.”

Ning Xiaobei stuffed the tear-soaked handkerchief into his clothing and patted Grandma Ning’s hand.

Just as they were about to leave the room, Shui Xiang on the bed suddenly shouted.

“Don’t wait!”

“Miss, the gentleman said you shouldn’t wait for him!”

Grandma Ning turned her trembling head. Shui Xiang turned her face toward the frail, silver-haired woman standing at the door and shook her head.

“The gentleman said: Jiande Lane, I can’t go back. When you go to deliver flowers, find a chance to tell Miss Jian not to wait for me. I can’t go back.”

Grandma Ning took a deep breath and tightly closed her eyes, her right hand shaking uncontrollably as it clutched her cane.

“Can’t go back… can’t go back…”

Shui Xiang turned her head and looked at the ceiling, smiling faintly.

“Sir, my words have reached… Miss, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

The little yellow croaker was eventually tucked by Ning Xiaobei into the big flower vase at Old Lady Shui Xiang’s house, the one holding the plum blossoms. Her youngest daughter would probably notice it tomorrow when she changed the water for the flowers.

On the ride home, Grandma Ning couldn’t stop crying. The driver kept glancing nervously at the pair in the rearview mirror, worried something might happen.

“Don’t tell your dad about what happened today, Xiaobei, understand?”

After getting out of the car, they walked across the small square in front of the tube-style apartment building. Grandma Ning reached out and gently patted Ning Xiaobei’s head, her voice soft and frail.

Ning Xiaobei nodded, promising his grandmother that even if enemies whipped him, he wouldn’t tell.

“You little rascal, you’ve already learned how to make your grandma happy.”

Grandma Ning managed a tearful smile, looking up at the pale moonlight overhead, and let out a wistful, sorrowful laugh.

“She’s right… can’t go back anymore…”

……………… 

Since Grandma Ning went to bed early, the remaining two couldn’t watch TV or listen to music. Ning Xiaobei and his father finished washing up early as well. They lay in bed, each holding a copy of 【Light Weapons】 magazine.

Downstairs, it was quiet too; apparently Zhao Jingwen and his nephew didn’t have any plans tonight.

From the fourth floor, faint violin notes drifted down; it must have been Chang Leyun, preparing for her music exam, practicing diligently. But by around nine, the music stopped, and the whole building gradually fell silent.

Ning Xiaobei set the magazine aside and rested against Ning Jianguo’s broad arm, drifting into a deep sleep.

He felt himself slipping into a dream, as if he had returned to old Shanghai in the 1940s, witnessing a love that could never be fulfilled. The setting felt familiar: Jiande Lane, the place he had lived for over ten years.

Yet the room in his dream looked entirely different. There was no small attic on the second floor, and the main hall hadn’t yet been divided into front and back sections.

Besides the two pear-wood wardrobes he knew so well, there were many pieces of furniture he had never seen: Ningbo-style drum stools, a Suzhou-style dressing table. The floor lamp was Western in style, probably American, with a delicate frame holding a lampshade of multicolored glass.

Wearing a long, indanthrone blue qipao and short hair styled in soft S-shaped waves, the woman walked gracefully from the alley entrance. She carried a brown handbag and pinned a delicate gardenia to her chest.

“Knock, knock, knock!”

A sudden, rapid knocking jolted Ning Xiaobei awake from his half-dream, half-reality state. With a click, Ning Jianguo switched on the small lamp on the bedside table, his face still filled with confusion.

“Open the door! Is anyone in there? Open up!”

………………

Author’s Note:

Grandma’s Story

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  Little yellow croaker (小黄鱼): A metaphor for a gold bar