NMBJ2 - 14

At the beginning of the new year, after a hectic day filled with endless year-end summary meetings, Zhao Pingjin, who had worked for a week after the New Year holiday, forcibly reduced his workload. For the past few days, he had been getting off work at around 6:30 p.m., and his driver would send him back to the Park Hyatt.

After work, he would rest for a while, sometimes handling some official business. Around 10 p.m., the driver would send him back to the new house in Xia Gongfu.

At around 8 p.m., as he lay in bed, Shen Min called, “I’ve ordered some soup and noodles for you.”

Zhao Pingjin raised his hand and placed it horizontally on his forehead, the cool arm pressing down on his burning forehead. He closed his eyes and vaguely replied, “No need to bother, I can’t eat.”

Ignoring him, Shen Min’s tone was as humble as ever but unyielding, “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Please open the door to take it.”

Sure enough, after a while, the doorbell rang, and Zhao Pingjin had to get up, put on a shirt, and get out of bed to open the door.

He opened the several carefully packaged food boxes, sat at the kitchen table, and took out a pair of chopsticks.

After drinking half a bowl of soup, sweat slowly seeped out of his forehead. Zhao Pingjin supported himself on the dining table, slowly got up, and moved step by step out of the dining room, lying down on the living room sofa.

There was usually a thin cashmere blanket on the sofa, and he reached out and pulled it over himself.

He lay there with his eyes closed, feeling drowsy. After an unknown amount of time, the pain in his stomach subsided slightly. He opened his eyes and sat up, looking at the silent room. The curtains were drawn tightly, and the lights in the living room were off. The lights in the dining room were on, and a dim, yellowish light shone through, illuminating the corner of the living room. That door remained closed.

Zhao Pingjin sat quietly on the sofa for a while before getting up and walking over to gently push open Huang Xitang’s bedroom door.

It had been a long time since he last entered.

After they broke up, for a long period, after finishing work during the day and getting off work at night, he would return to this room and sit. Sometimes, when he was still in good spirits after work, he would casually go through the box of miscellaneous items she had left behind. This box had been with him for six or seven years, but he had never opened it. When Huang Xitang was still living at home, he would occasionally see her sitting cross-legged on the floor, going through the contents. Zhao Pingjin, walking past her room, would see her either examining old photos from her student days or looking at her notebooks. At that time, their relationship was distant, and he disliked how dusty the things were. He never bothered to pay attention to what she was doing. Now, when he opened the box, he found stacks of movie tickets, scenic spot tickets, train tickets, boarding passes—these scattered remnants of history had been kept for over ten years. The paper had yellowed, and some of the memories were even fuzzy to him.

Huang Xitang had discarded these things twice. The first time was when they broke up. She sold the apartment in Jiayuan and threw everything outside. Shen Min retrieved it and returned it to him. The second time, when she left him in Beijing, this box was left in his apartment.

He knew she would never come back.

At that time, Zhao Pingjin was already married, and his position at Zhongyuan Group had advanced. He was busier with work, and most nights, there were social engagements. By the time he came back, it was already late, and he was exhausted. He could only sit motionless on the carpet by her bed, doing nothing, just sitting there. Unknowingly, he would sit there until the early morning light. For a while, he couldn’t sleep through the night. Eventually, he realized that he couldn’t continue like this, so he instructed the cleaning staff to clean the apartment and lock the door. But after a short time, he still took the key back.

When Huang Xitang was living there, she never locked the door. When she closed it, it wasn’t even fully shut. Perhaps she thought the house was his, and she was financially supported by him. She did her best to serve him.

She was like that—full of various contradictory thoughts, always seeking trouble.

She had been gone for a long time.

That night, after she unexpectedly said goodbye to him, he let her get out of the car and walk away. Then, in a daze, he drove back to the Park Hyatt. He held on to the faintest hope that she was just angry and had quarreled with him. But when he arrived home, he found that she had already made all the preparations. The room was tidied up neatly, even the bedding was folded. All of her personal items had been cleared away. The vanity was empty. The drawer beneath was opened. The first layer was empty, and in the corner of the second layer, there was a pure black wooden box with a bank card and a room key neatly placed inside.

The bank card was the one he had given her, and the room key was from Park Hyatt. Inside the box was the watch she had received from him, untouched.

He reached out and opened the box, took a glance, and without thinking, smashed the vanity mirror.

She had deliberately done this to anger him. How much had she taken from him? He never saw her refuse anything. Pretending to be so high and mighty, yet she didn’t want such a broken piece of jewelry that he had personally given her.

Thinking back to the time when they loved each other the most, when he liked her, he would try to make her happy by giving her all sorts of beautiful things. After their breakup, he thought about how she treated those gifts, and how they had all ended up in the trash. New grudges and old resentments built up. He was so angry that his head spun, and his vision went dark.

The mirror shattered, glass shards scattered all over the floor. He hated her. He hadn’t been back for a long time, and when he returned, the room had already been tidied up. The mirror had been replaced.

But there was no longer a little figure running out of the room—no pale face, no messy black hair, and no silly smile for him.

Zhao Pingjin sat on the carpet beside the bed, leaning against the bed, stretching his legs. He opened the bottom drawer of the wardrobe and skillfully pulled out the little bear.

He hadn’t agreed to return it to her, so she hadn’t taken it with her. She secretly left it in the wardrobe and even put a little sweater on it. This toy had been something she hugged since she was a child. When they were dating, he would always see her hugging it to sleep. The plush had worn thin and was in a terrible state. He took it out and angrily slapped the doll’s head, beating it until its head drooped. He stared at it for a while, and then suddenly couldn’t bring himself to continue. He gently raised its head, and then reached out to touch it. Zhao Pingjin froze for a long time, carefully lifting it to his nose, and seemed to still smell her saliva on it.

He suddenly felt a wave of sadness.

The car drove into the alley.

The courtyard was neatly cleaned, with couplets posted on the door. A row of red lanterns hung under the tree. Zhao Pingjin parked the car in the courtyard and walked toward his grandparents’ small building. As he passed the corridor entrance, a young and beautiful woman walked toward him, holding a little girl with a rosy face and a neat bob haircut, wearing a bright red dress.

The woman, seeing him, immediately widened her eyes. “Oh, who is this? A rare guest.”

Zhao Pingjin didn’t hold back either. “Girls nowadays really have no shame. Who goes back to their parents’ home on New Year’s Eve?”

Qi Ling gave him a glare, not bothering to argue anymore, and quickly glanced at the person next to him.

Zhao Pingjin smiled and introduced the woman beside him, Yu Xiaoying. “Yingzi, you’ve met her.”

Qi Ling smiled brightly. “I saw her at the wedding.”

Zhao Pingjin said, “This is our childhood friend, Lingdang.”

Yu Xiaoying followed closely behind him, looking like a well-behaved little wife. She sweetly said, “Sister.”

At that moment, Lingdang’s mother stepped out onto the balcony, holding a bunch of green onions. When she saw Zhao Pingjin, she immediately called out enthusiastically, “Zhou’er, come to Auntie’s house for dumplings.”

The little girl looked up and crisply shouted, “Grandma!”

Lingdang let go of the girl’s hand. “Go upstairs. When you get in, remember to say hello to Grandma and Grandpa.”

The little girl ran off quickly.

Qi Ling gave Zhao Pingjin a look.

Zhao Pingjin understood; she had something to say: “I’ll talk to Lingdang for a moment.”

Yu Xiaoying smiled and greeted Lingdang, then turned and walked toward the courtyard.

Lingdang glanced at him: “Last time I came back, my mom immediately told me, ‘My kid’s starting kindergarten next year, and you two are still fighting?’”

Zhao Pingjin grinned: “Can’t resist your charm.”

Lingdang stood on tiptoe and playfully pinched his ear: “Still talking back.”

Zhao Pingjin quickly dodged.

Lingdang grinned mischievously: “I heard everything, all for a girl?”

Zhao Pingjin’s eyes darkened for a moment, but his face showed no sign of it. His tone remained light and casual: “When have we not fought over a girl? Outside, they always say it’s for a girl. Do you really believe that?”

Seeing his reaction, Lingdang didn’t want to bother with his affairs anymore. Zhao Pingjin was spoiled. She had never seen him take relationships seriously. She had once betrayed her first love for him. Xiao Jiang had even tried to harm herself over it. For that, Lu Xiaojiang’s mom and her own mom had fallen out for years, and in the end, it all faded with time. Jealousy and rivalry had always existed, but it seemed like it was mostly about competition between men. The passionate and impulsive love of youth now felt like fog—once the sun came out, it all disappeared. She didn’t believe that Zhao Pingjin was the kind of deeply affectionate man. Once a man got married, everything else was over: “Well, whatever. As long as you all know your own business, that’s enough. Alright, your wife’s waiting inside. I won’t keep you.”

Zhao Pingjin nodded, took the things from Lingdang’s hands, and walked her to the stairs.

On New Year’s Eve, the family had a reunion dinner.

Teacher Zhou had returned early in the morning, and with his aunt and the housekeeper, she made a big table of dishes. At the dinner table, the old lady, the old man, and his aunt were all there. She quietly played her role as a dutiful daughter-in-law. When the family settled down in front of the TV, she made tea for the old man, called her husband, who was spending the New Year in the military region, and finally got a moment of free time. She sat next to Zhao Pingjin: “Xiao Jiang’s mother came back for the Spring Festival and was the first to come find me and complain. The whole neighborhood is talking about how you broke her arm.”

Zhao Pingjin quickly shoved some preserved fruit into her mouth.

Teacher Zhou raised her hand to hit him: “I think you’re getting more and more outrageous.”

Yu Xiaoying was standing nearby. Her mother-in-law’s tone was scolding, but if you listened carefully, there was no real blame in it. Zhao Pingjin still wore his usual cheeky grin, and his mother-in-law truly doted on him.

Teacher Zhou said, “Yingzi, you need to have a serious talk with him.”

Yu Xiaoying quickly agreed: “Oh, Mom.”

Zhao Pingjin said, “Alright, don’t worry about this.”

Yu Xiaoying started to study her husband, pretending to be curious, and asked: “Why did you two fight?”

Zhao Pingjin laughed: “You really believe we fought? We’re fine.”

Yu Xiaoying didn’t ask further, smiled, and turned her attention to the old lady, watching the “Golden Monkey Celebrates the New Year” on TV.