I wanted to go pat Zhi Nian’s back, but seeing her in that state, I felt it was best not to approach for the time being.
Her shoulders were shaking, her whole body shaking, like the last leaf hanging on a tree in autumn, about to fall with one gust of wind.
I stared at Zhi Nian from afar in the living room.
She finished vomiting.
Rinsed her mouth.
When Zhi Nian returned to the bedside she half-closed the door.
I knocked, said a few words of reminder through the door, then went back to sit in the living room.
I vaguely heard her in the room seeming to talk nonsense.
Or maybe not, just some fragmented syllables.
Back and forth, like a tape recorder that had jammed, looping the same segment of sound over and over.
I sat in the living room, listening to her in the bedroom slowly quiet down.
Not truly quiet; more like she couldn’t speak anymore, her strength used up.
I got up and secretly opened a crack in the door to observe the situation.
Zhi Nian was like a rag doll with all the cotton pulled out, collapsed there, lying at the edge of the bed, face half-buried in the blanket.
Eyes open, but not looking at anything.
Ai, what kind of thing was this?
I walked to the living room window, closed it and locked it tight.
Then walked to the door, checked the lock.
Returned to the living room, put the glass items on the coffee table into the drawer.
Finally entered the kitchen, put all the utensils and knives and forks away into the cabinet, covering them with a rag.
Not that I thought she would do something stupid, I just didn’t want her to have the opportunity to do something stupid.
Then I sat back on the sofa and picked up my phone.
Zhi Nian’s father’s avatar in the contacts was gray, no photo.
I opened the text message chat box, fingers hovering above the keyboard, paused for a long time.
Then I started typing.
“Zhi Nian is dating a boy. That boy looks decent, but some things happened today. Zhi Nian is feeling very bad. I don’t know if that boy is reliable or not, but Zhi Nian’s condition isn’t good. I think…”
What did I think?
Did I think she shouldn’t stay here?
Did I think she should be taken away?
Did I think that guy named Gu Fan wasn’t worth her tormenting herself like this?
I stopped and glanced in the direction of the bedroom.
No sound.
Maybe Zhi Nian had fallen asleep, maybe something else, but at least it was quiet.
I continued typing.
“She might have a better life over there with you. You know many people, conditions are good, arranging a good environment for her would be beneficial for her future life.”
This matter of crossing class, I understood better than anyone.
From a young age I knew that children from rich families and children from poor families lived in two different worlds.
It wasn’t a question of who was right or wrong; the tracks were different.
Zhi Nian’s looks and figure were a waste in our little village town, and also a waste staying in this small county town.
She should have better opportunities, meet better people, live a better life.
So what if Gu Fan was good to her?
Could “good” be eaten as a meal?
Could “good” guarantee it wouldn’t change for a lifetime?
I finished typing this paragraph and read it over from the beginning.
The wording had no problems, the reasons held up.
After Zhi Nian’s father saw it, there was a high probability he would send someone to pick her up.
Zhi Nian might hate me when she left, but hate was just hate.
When she lived a good life later, she would understand I did it for her own good.
My finger moved toward the send button.
Then it stopped.
The wind from outside poured in, puffing up the curtains like a huge, silent sigh.
I put the phone down.
Not that I didn’t want to send it.
There was still one thing I hadn’t confirmed.
If Gu Fan didn’t come looking tonight —
If he didn’t appear when Zhi Nian needed him most —
If he couldn’t even take this one step —
Then this send button, I would press it.
But if he came.
If he was willing to run out in the crowded evening to find someone who had just said so many ugly words on the phone, who had laid out her most unsightly side completely — then I would wait a bit more.
I saved those paragraphs into the notes.
A line of small text appeared on the screen — “Draft saved.”
I locked the screen, leaned back on the sofa, and closed my eyes.
Zhi Nian was still in the bedroom, not a single sound.
I didn’t know how much time passed.
Maybe ten minutes, maybe half an hour.
When I was drowsily about to fall asleep, I heard footsteps.
Tap tap, very hurried footsteps.
You could imagine what kind of posture the owner of the footsteps had at this moment, probably taking three steps at a time up the stairs?
I stood up, walked to the door, and looked through the peephole.
Gu Fan stood outside the door.
He was wearing a linen-colored jacket, hair a bit messy from the wind, breathing not yet evened out — probably had run over.
The expression on his face wasn’t very clear, but that standing posture was steady, no hesitation.
I opened the door.
He glanced at me, seeming a bit surprised and puzzled.
After talking with him a bit and testing his attitude, I found it was quite firm, so I turned sideways and made way in the hallway.
When he brushed past me to go in, I saw his shoelace was undone.
He had probably run the whole way over, run so hard he hadn’t even had time to tie his shoelace.
After opening the bedroom door, I leaned against the doorframe and didn’t follow in.
The door wasn’t closed tightly, leaving a crack.
I heard Gu Fan’s voice coming from inside.
Not loud, but very clear.
“Zhi Nian.”
It was quiet for a long time.
So long I thought there was no one in the room.
Then Zhi Nian spoke.
Her voice was hoarse, carrying something sticky from just having cried.
“Gu Fan…”
After that they whispered some more private words rustlingly.
I pushed the door crack a bit wider and uneasily glanced inside.
Zhi Nian was leaning against the head of the bed, Gu Fan squatting beside her.
His fingers slipped into Zhi Nian’s hair, stroking down one by one as if petting a cat.
Zhi Nian had her eyes half-closed in an enjoying manner, the corners of her mouth even curving into a small arc.
There were still a few lines of tear stains on her face, but that expression was no longer the wretched look from when she had rushed into the bathroom to vomit just now.
Now this expression was more like a “saved” expression.
I gently closed the door and shut it properly.
Leaned against the hallway wall, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds.
Then took out my phone and opened the notes.
That draft was still there.
I read it over again.
“Zhi Nian is dating a boy. That boy looks pretty good, but some things happened today. Zhi Nian is feeling very bad. I don’t know if that boy is reliable or not…”
Was that boy reliable or not?
I exited the edit page and moved my finger to the delete key.
Paused for a moment.
The wind outside was still blowing, chilly, a rare coolness for a summer evening.
I pressed delete.
The screen was clean and empty, nothing left.
I tucked the phone into my pocket, turned back to the living room, picked up my jacket that was draped on the sofa, and quietly went out the door.
The hallway was a bit dark, no sound-activated lights, only the incandescent bulbs each household had installed in front of their doors.
Most weren’t on.
At a nearby pharmacy downstairs I bought some contraceptive measures, went back upstairs to put them on the coffee table, and went out the door again.
This time I closed the main door.
I called a rideshare, stood downstairs, staring at the sewer iron grate under my feet.
Sparse water flow sounds echoed inside, withered branches and rotten leaves piled on top, the water flowing very, very slowly.
But at least it was functioning.
On the way back, I kept thinking about how I should report to Zhi Nian’s father.
Thought the whole way.
When I arrived in my hometown, I didn’t call him directly, but first went back to my own home.
Took a shower, changed into clean clothes, blow-dried my hair, looked in the mirror.
My face was a bit swollen, probably from not sleeping well last night.
Sat at the desk and dialed his number.
The phone rang three times before he answered.
“Hello.”
I kept my voice even and said, “I’ve gone to see Zhi Nian.”
He didn’t speak, waiting for me to continue.
“She’s doing pretty well.”
“There’s someone by her side, named Gu Fan. That boy —”
I thought about the wording.
“That boy is reasonably reliable. He’s quite good to Zhi Nian. When Zhi Nian is together with him, her whole person is lively.”
There was silence on the other end for a long time.
So long I thought the signal had dropped.
Then he sighed.
That breath was very long, like the kind held in for many years.
The sound coming out was a bit astringent, like something that had been stuck inside for a long time finally being expelled.
“That’s good then.”
He only said those three words.
I opened my mouth, wanting to say something — say how miserably his daughter had cried, say how heartbreaking it was seeing his daughter hiding in the bathroom dry heaving, say how his daughter said “it’s fine” with her mouth but her whole body was shaking.
Wanted to say it.
But some words weren’t for me to say.
“There’s one more thing,” he said.
“Please go ahead.”
“I transferred two sums of money to you. When you have time, go over to Zhi Nian’s side more often to help me look after her.”
I paused.
“There’s no need —”
“It’s not all for you.” His voice was still like that, unhurried.
“The later sum is for Zhi Nian. She often lives alone, I don’t feel at ease. You’re close by, you can look after things if anything happens.”
I didn’t respond.
He paused, then said, “The matter of the arranged marriage isn’t mandatory.”
This sentence was said very lightly, as if talking to himself.
“I owe the two of them, mother and daughter, too much. Can’t repay it in this lifetime. But at least…”
He paused again.
“A person lives only one lifetime, no need to be that selfish.”
After the call hung up, I sat in the chair, staring at the shadow on the wall for a long time.
Hah, what detestable capital.
I turned off the screen and flipped the phone face down on the table.
Then opened the mobile banking and glanced at the balance.
The number was more than I could earn from ten summer jobs.