Chapter 7

Mid-Autumn Festival.

In the dining room of the Zhao family’s east house in Guosheng Hutong, steam was rising from the dishes on the table.

The housekeeper brought the dishes over, smiling as she said, “The four-season meatballs that the old lady loves.”

Mrs. Zhou picked up her chopsticks and placed one onto the old lady’s plate. “Mom, try it.”

Zhao Pingjin noticed the housekeeper still bustling about serving. “Auntie, don’t worry, sit down and eat with us.”

The old man sat at the head of the table, the old lady sat in the seat beside him, Mrs. Zhou sat on his left, and opposite them sat Zhao Pingjin and his wife, Yu Xiaoying. There was one seat left.

The housekeeper smiled and agreed. After all these years, during the holidays, the old man always insisted she sit and eat with the family. She was getting older now and no longer declined, settling into a seat at the end of the table. The rules had always been followed meticulously, unchanged. The housekeeper wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m going to check the crabs in the steamer, we don’t want them to overcook.”

Mrs. Zhou called out, “Auntie, just come back after you’ve checked.”

Mrs. Zhou had just returned from Nanjing for the Mid-Autumn Festival, and the family was having a reunion dinner. Halfway through the meal, Mr. Zhou glanced at his son and daughter-in-law across the table. “You two have been married for almost half a year now, any news?”

The old man had high blood lipids and had undergone several checkups earlier in the year. His health doctor had strictly instructed him to eat a light diet. Today, on this rare occasion, he was allowed half a portion of braised pork knuckles, and his daughter-in-law was watching the grandson, so he didn’t speak, but his ears perked up.

Zhao Pingjin glanced at his mother and casually replied, “What kind of news are you looking for?”

Mr. Zhou placed his chopsticks down with a soft clink and shot his son a stern look. “Your grandparents are waiting for a great-grandson!”

The old lady raised her head when she heard, smiling in confusion. “Zhou’er got married? I didn’t know that.”

Zhao Pingjin laughed.

Yu Xiaoying, who had been smiling all along, suddenly froze a little.

Mrs. Zhou sighed and explained, “Mom, he got married earlier this year, you’ve forgotten again. Your granddaughter-in-law, Yingzi, is sitting across from you.”

The old lady heard and smiled happily, “Good, good, good.”

With the old lady’s interruption, Mrs. Zhou couldn’t continue asking about the child.

Yu Xiaoying tactfully tried to smooth things over, “Mom, don’t worry.”

Mr. Zhou shot Zhao Pingjin a glare. “If it weren’t for my daughter-in-law’s sake, I’d take care of you myself.”

The old man understood and remained silent, sitting still, but then he turned to his daughter-in-law, “How’s the second one down in Nanjing?”

Mrs. Zhou replied, “Quite well, the commander of the 31st Group Army has been reassigned to the Shanghai garrison, and the political commissar has changed.”

The old man, though retired for many years, was still well-informed about military personnel changes. “Is it the third one from the Fang family in the Joint Logistics Department?”

Mrs. Zhou replied, “Yes.”

The old man thought for a moment, “Not too old, is he?”

Mrs. Zhou answered, “Not too young either, he’s a few years older than Zhuo’er.”

The old man fell silent.

Mrs. Zhou, ever perceptive, immediately understood that this must have reminded him of his deceased eldest son, and it saddened him.

Mrs. Zhou shifted the topic and asked, “Dad, did Pingdong call this morning? What did he say?”

Yu Xiaoying quietly listened as her mother-in-law and the old man talked about matters from the south and the new house her eldest sister-in-law bought in the United States. She had no place to speak in this conversation and glanced at her husband beside her.

Zhao Pingjin seemed distracted, his brow furrowed, lost in thought.

After dinner, the young couple returned to their own home.

On the way back, Zhao Pingjin focused on driving, and the two of them didn’t speak.

Yu Xiaoying, sitting in the passenger seat, suddenly turned to him and said, “Zhou’er, let’s have a baby.”

Zhao Pingjin gripped the steering wheel tightly, and Yu Xiaoying could clearly hear his silence. He didn’t respond.

That evening, after Yu Xiaoying showered, she walked to the study where Zhao Pingjin was sitting in a white shirt and glasses, focused on his computer screen.

Yu Xiaoying wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, resting her face on his shoulder.

Zhao Pingjin turned his head and kissed her cheek, gently but firmly saying, “Stop it, I’m busy.”

Yu Xiaoying didn’t stop, pressing her chest against his back, her white curves lightly brushing against his silk nightgown as she slid her hand under his shirt, teasingly squeezing his sensitive spot.

Zhao Pingjin remained still, not reacting.

Yu Xiaoying could feel his skin was cold to the touch, a slight shiver running through him.

She wasn’t a woman without charm. When she was studying abroad, she didn’t initially want to go, thinking the studies would be too difficult, but her father, Yu Weimin, noticed that all the other children of relatives and friends were going, and he felt that if his only daughter didn’t have a prestigious foreign degree, it would be embarrassing for the family. She couldn’t go against her father’s will and agreed. After leaving the confines of home, she felt utterly free, like a happy little bird in the Los Angeles student circle. She had dated both Asian and Western boyfriends and had rarely failed to attract a man’s desire since learning how to love. She was confident because she understood men’s reactions so well—young men with strong physical desires that couldn’t be suppressed. But what she didn’t expect was that her own husband, after marriage, turned out to be the greatest exception.

Since they got married and moved in together, unless Zhao Pingjin was willing, no matter how hard Yu Xiaoying tried to seduce him, she couldn’t ignite his desire.

Filled with frustration, she turned her waist and threw herself into his arms.

Zhao Pingjin turned around, holding her hand to stop her movements.

Yu Xiaoying looked at him with a mixture of sorrow and resentment, her lips slightly pouting, and there was a faint, misty glimmer in her eyes.

Their wedding had been grand, and Yu Xiaoying knew her parents were very pleased, which also indicated that the Zhao family was satisfied with her as their daughter-in-law. Except for a minor incident on their wedding night when Zhao Pingjin suddenly fell ill, and after the ceremony, they went straight to the hospital without even entering their wedding suite, he was soon discharged. Three days after their wedding, he accompanied her back to her parents’ home, being courteous and attentive, and the family gave her generous gifts, showing Yu Xiaoying respect.

After the wedding, they moved into the Xigongfu, a property purchased by Yu Xiaoying’s family. It was located in the city center, a busy and lively area, and just a ten-minute drive from her parents’ home. The Zhao family had prepared a wedding house for Zhao Pingjin in the East City, but Yu Xiaoying didn’t like that location. Her mother discussed it with Mrs. Zhou, Zhao Pingjin’s mother. Mrs. Zhou had doubts—living in the wife’s family home after marriage didn’t sit well with her. When she mentioned it to Zhao Pingjin, to her surprise, her picky son immediately agreed without hesitation. Mrs. Zhou had no choice but to accept.

Yu Xiaoying was pleased when she found out. He still cared about her.

Zhao Pingjin was busy with work, often attending social gatherings four or five nights a week. At first, Yu Xiaoying would wait for him at home, but after a few times when he clearly told her that she didn’t need to wait up for him, she returned to her usual routine. Some nights she went shopping or to a bar with her girlfriends, sometimes she went back to her parents’ house. When she returned home, Zhao Pingjin was sometimes already there, sometimes not. No matter how late it was, he would always come back.

In the mornings, they each went to work, and at night, they came back, quickly settling into the routine of an ordinary married life.

Her mother told her that all couples live like this and that they should have a child. Yu Xiaoying thought it was time to have a child, so she hinted and mentioned it several times, and brought home a pile of brochures about prenatal care and family planning, placing them in the living room, eagerly making preparations.

Zhao Pingjin didn’t oppose her, but didn’t agree either. He was just indifferent, his response casual and non-committal.

Their once-a-week intimacy seemed more like a task to be completed.

He still never forgot to use protection.

Zhao Pingjin calmly said, “I still have work, you should go to sleep.”

Yu Xiaoying angrily swatted his hand away and pushed him hard, stomping off in a huff.

Zhao Pingjin got up and followed her out. “Don’t be angry.”

Yu Xiaoying looked at his calm, helpless face. This was how he always was—he never argued with her. When she threw a tantrum, he silently endured it. Outside, people said that Zhao Pingjin had a big temper, was spoiled, and was hard to get along with.

Yu Xiaoying went abroad in high school. Her impression of Zhao Pingjin was solely based on the rough-and-tumble, bully-like reputation that circulated in the military compound where they both grew up. The first time they formally met, the introduction came from her aunt, who worked at the Education Commission and was a former colleague of her mother-in-law, Mrs. Zhou. They had a meal together, talked about her experiences studying abroad, and that was how they got to know each other.

They dated for half a year, and Zhao Pingjin was quite the gentleman. Every date, he always made sure to pick her up and drop her off. On Women’s Day, Children’s Day, Labor Day, and every other holiday, he would always bring flowers and gifts—he was nothing short of a dedicated boyfriend.

After getting to know each other for several months, Yu Xiaoying’s mother invited them to a meal for her birthday. Yu Weimin told his daughter, “You should bring Zhouzi along.”

A week later, for the Dragon Boat Festival, Zhao Pingjin took her to have dinner with his grandfather.

From then on, the relationship between the two families was established.

Later on, very occasionally, Yu Xiaoying would go out with him and his childhood friends. She saw Zhao Pingjin in a completely different light when he was with his friends—he was completely relaxed, behaving like a spoiled young man, speaking in a heavy Beijing accent, full of jokes, and his face would wear a thin, attractive smile.

But when he was with her, he was always proper and well-behaved.

She had expressed her doubts to her girlfriends, and one of them, Da Huan, had said, “He likes you, that’s why he’s being serious!”

She believed her.

That day, at her in-laws’ house in Guosheng Hutong, Yu Xiaoying overheard a conversation between the old housekeeper and the aunt from the Qian family, who lived next door. The Qian aunt was picking pea shoots and said, “Everyone says that after Zhouzi got married, he’s like a changed person. He’s not the carefree playboy anymore. He’s much more grounded now, and he really cares for his wife.”

The housekeeper froze for a while when she heard that, then suddenly put down the pea shoots, took out a handkerchief, and wiped her eyes.

The Qian aunt, puzzled, asked, “It’s a good thing that he’s more mature after getting married, why are you crying?”

The housekeeper smiled and replied, “The wind has blown by.”