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“Dad, slow down a bit...”
“Who are you calling Dad?!”
The first thing Jian Zhaowen said after exiting the airport was, “What on earth is this place? How can it be so cold? Isn’t this just an ice cave? You grew up in this place and didn’t even become a pervert? Holy crap... Ah!”
They were at the airport waiting for Yu Zhimei’s father. Yu Zhimei had finally managed to snag tickets for the second day of the Lunar New Year, but suddenly, a Cheng Yaojin (a legendary figure known for his unexpected appearances) popped up and paid for an extra ticket first. So, going home for the New Year turned into Jian Zhaowen’s excited trip to meet the parents. The cold wind shattered Jian Zhaowen’s beautiful inner expectations at the first blow. Minus thirty-two degrees Celsius made Jian Zhaowen’s tears flow uncontrollably. Not to mention that when Jian Zhaowen tried to open a bottle of water to drink, his hand froze, and he immediately dropped it, watching as the water turned to ice and the plastic bottle stuck to the ground. With a mournful face, Jian Zhaowen said, “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” Dragging her suitcase, Yu Zhimei, her face full of disdain, thought, “I told you not to come, but you insisted on following. You don’t even have cotton-padded pants, just wait and see you cry.”
After a few minutes, a beat-up BYD stopped in front of them. A man wearing a Lei Feng hat got out of the car with a cigarette in his mouth. He was only wearing a sweater, but he sturdily took Yu Zhimei’s suitcase and glanced at Jian Zhaowen: “Wearing too little, aren’t you? Freezing like a little chick.” His thick accent added a bit of teasing to the word “chick,” his tone like Zhao Lirong’s. The eyes behind the sunglasses were exactly the same as Yu Zhimei’s. No introduction was needed. This smooth cool act of parking, closing the door, and loading the suitcase was in Yu Zhimei’s bloodline, inherited from him.
In the car, he didn’t take off his Lei Feng hat, and his sunglasses remained on his face. Just as Yu Zhimei was about to squeeze into the back seat, the man spoke: “What’s wrong? Got a boyfriend and forgot your old man? Get in the passenger seat!” Yu Zhimei saw through his act but didn’t call him out, only teasing him for wearing sunglasses on such a short trip. The man was righteous: “Didn’t you see it just snowed? Such a white road is dazzling, don’t you understand?”
It was five o’clock in the evening Beijing time, and the sky had already darkened. Jian Zhaowen’s mind was wondering if these were the sunglasses Aunt Bai had given him back then.
In the next second, Jian Zhaowen had no time to think. The road was slippery with ice and snow. On the second day of the Lunar New Year, there were no pedestrians on the road, and Dad’s speed never dropped below seventy. The inertia of the car’s tail swung out in a large arc, and he drifted through sharp turns. In Yu Zhimei’s words, Dad’s foot was heavy, accelerating and braking abruptly. Plus, the car wasn’t very good, and the gear changes were jerky, so Jian Zhaowen’s breakfast kept churning in his throat. When they arrived home, Dad finally took off his sunglasses, but he never looked Jian Zhaowen directly in the eye. Even when Jian Zhaowen snatched the suitcase from Dad’s hand, his first words were, “Uncle, you’re a really amazing driver!” The old man in his fifties only coolly took the cigarette from behind his ear and put it in his mouth, letting him enter the door while he himself stood outside frantically smoking. Yu Zhimei leaned close to Jian Zhaowen’s ear and said, “He probably has a good impression of you.”
“Huh?”
“You complimented his driving, he must be very happy.”
“I didn’t see it at all.”
“He’s just putting on an act, especially when someone praises him, he immediately starts performing, a ruthless person who doesn’t talk much. He’s not taking off his sunglasses because he’s afraid you’ll see his eyes.”
Yu Zhimei’s mother was indeed very similar to Jian Zhaowen’s prediction. She had a small face and a small frame, a woman in her fifties who still showed excellent head-to-body ratio. She didn’t have the broad back, thick neck, or the usual eye bags from the northern preference for salty food. She looked more like a southerner. Perhaps because her face was small, her skin sagged a bit earlier than Yu Zhimei’s father, making her drooping eyes look even more innocent. After chatting with Yu Zhimei’s mother for a few sentences, Jian Zhaowen felt her easygoing nature. She was a clever woman who quietly understood all the principles but still interacted with people with a gentle and kind demeanor, and not as boring as Yu Zhimei had described.
He suddenly felt a warmth of home.
The apartment was just a typical two-bedroom, one-living room, with white marble floors and a large embroidered painting hanging on one wall of the living room, no different from other northeastern families. Finding a living room that escaped vulgar aesthetics in an ordinary northeastern household was probably impossible. On the contrary, the car models behind the glass cabinet caught his interest: small tanks, small armored vehicles, Lego car models with power units... Yu Zhimei leaned closer and said proudly, “How about it? These are all gifts used to please my dad during the holidays.”
Dad shouted from not far away, “Dinner’s ready, what are you waiting for!”
The table was full of hearty dishes. Compared to Little Ma’s meal, this was truly heavy on oil and salt. Especially the high stack of knee bones in the middle of the table made Jian Zhaowen take a step back. He could occasionally order a small piece at Xibei and eat it for a long time, but the presentation in front of him, like dismembered animal bones, sent a chill down Jian Zhaowen’s spine. Sure enough, the further north, the colder it was, and the more combative the eating style. Yu Zhimei’s father didn’t eat first either. He immediately twisted open the cap of a bottle of baijiu (white liquor), and Jian Zhaowen’s eyes went dark—if it’s a blessing, it’s not a disaster; if it’s a disaster, you can’t avoid it.
“What kind of work do you do?”
“I’m a startup founder.”
“A small business, huh?”
Yu Zhimei’s tone was indifferent: “Dad, startups in the south are all about big ventures, not setting up stalls on the roadside.”
“Oh. So what kind of car do you drive?”
“An Audi A4, Yu Zhimei recommended it to me.”
“Oh, it’s also a four-wheel drive.” But the next sentence wasn’t a compliment. Dad only said to Yu Zhimei, “Recommending an Audi to him, is it because you like it yourself?”
“Honest to goodness, he bought it himself casually. We weren’t even dating back then.”
Only then did Dad realize that the order of his questions was wrong: “What did you say your name was again?”
“My name is Jian Zhaowen.”
“Oh. You drink these three glasses of wine. First glass, you delayed my daughter’s return home. You’re not even married, spending New Year’s Eve outside and only coming home on the second day of the Lunar New Year is outrageous. Second glass, you got carsick in my car. I drive so steadily, how can someone with this level of tolerance marry my daughter?”
Jian Zhaowen asked timidly, “Then... what about the third glass?”
Yu Zhimei’s father paused: “Haven’t thought of it yet, just drink it for me.”
After Yu Zhimei and her mother left the table, Yu Zhimei’s father tapped the table with his chopsticks, signaling Jian Zhaowen to sit down: “Let’s have a couple of drinks, just us two.” A couple? So the previous ones didn’t count? Jian Zhaowen glanced at the Maotai he had brought, still unopened, and then at the Luzhou Laojiao placed side by side. He felt a sense of righteous indignation, ready to die for a noble cause. Yu Zhimei’s father tilted his head back and drank, telling Jian Zhaowen to keep up and not fall behind.
“Dad, slow down a bit...”
“Who are you calling Dad?!”
“...Uncle, please don’t drink anymore.”
“How can someone with a poor alcohol tolerance be my daughter’s husband? You must drink this wine clearly today.”
Jian Zhaowen didn’t like the taste of baijiu. His throat burned, and combined with the mouthful of meat he had eaten, a putrid middle-aged breath wafted from his mouth. He glanced at the scallions and soybean paste on the table, hesitated, and chose the hawthorn cake behind him, chewing it vigorously a few times before speaking: “Uncle, may I ask you, just how much can you drink...?” Looking at the single finger Yu Zhimei’s father held up, Jian Zhaowen was a bit confused: “One liang (50g), one jin (500g), one bottle?”
For the first time, Yu Zhimei’s father revealed a mysterious yet contemptuous smile: “Keep drinking.”
Watching Jian Zhaowen respectfully coaxing the wine down, Yu Zhimei quietly retreated into the room. She cheerfully snuggled into her mother’s quilt, unsurprisingly enveloped by the warmth of the electric blanket, and grinned at her mother. The bedroom had a small balcony, one step higher than the bedroom floor. Her mother sat on the step peeling dried fruit. Hazelnuts and pine nuts were neatly arranged on a plate. Without looking up, she asked Yu Zhimei, “Is this young man the ‘not bad’ person you mentioned before?” Yu Zhimei nodded. Her mother smiled and sighed, “Too handsome, too outstanding, doesn’t look very reliable.” Yu Zhimei couldn’t help but laugh after hearing this: “What, are you going to advise me to find an honest man?” Yu Zhimei’s mother was expressionless, knowing her daughter was deliberately being contrary: “What’s the use of being honest? Isn’t it because someone is useless and has no special characteristics that people came up with such a trait? I say he’s unreliable because he looks too lucky in love, I’m afraid you’ll suffer in the future.”
Yu Zhimei lay on the bed, no longer feeling reserved: “Mom, who can predict the future?”
“Then why did you call me crying?” Yu Zhimei’s mother put the plate on the bedside table and casually picked at the fluff balls on Yu Zhimei’s sleeve, rubbing them into a ball and throwing them into the trash can: “Marriage is all about daily necessities. Once you have children, it’s even more chaotic. If you can endure three years of this and still feel your heart beat faster when you see your husband, it’s probably because you’re so angry your heart is arrhythmia.”
“Mom.” Yu Zhimei leaned against the headboard, her hands behind her head: “I just brought him back to meet you guys, don’t make it sound like I’m entrusting my whole life to him.”
As soon as she said this, her mother actually started to cry: “This day will always come. Mom is happy for you, but also really reluctant to let you go. Once you truly become someone else’s daughter-in-law, you’ll have to work hard your whole life, you won’t just be Mom’s daughter anymore...”
Hearing this, Yu Zhimei’s nose felt a bit sore: “Mom, it’s just that your views are different from ours. In our eyes, getting married doesn’t mean you’ve married into someone else’s family. People are independent, and it has nothing to do with whether or not you get married. And two people are together for happiness, not to toil, right?” She did believe that her mother’s words were a summary of the past thirty years: Dad was a person worth loving, but not that worth sacrificing for. She also understood the meaning behind those words: her own daughter might not be able to rewrite her destiny. The dogmatic advice and propaganda of society, the unquestioning obedience and exclusion in the hearts of ordinary people, would drag any woman who wanted to rebel back into the mainstream—women who sacrifice for their families are more worthy of praise than independent women who selfishly seek happiness. What cruel logic. Her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the radiator and the electric blanket. She squeezed her mother’s arm: “Mom, really don’t think too much. Originally, I just brought him here to make you happy, not to have you immediately drag me to the wedding venue.”
“You’ll get married eventually—a girl isn’t complete without getting married. This Jian Zhaowen is not bad, you won’t find anyone better in the future.”
Yu Zhimei smiled. Her mother wasn’t one of the outspoken figures in the women’s rebellion.
And it wasn’t until three hours later that he came out. Yu Zhimei’s father’s eyes were bloodshot, and he was still discussing international current affairs with Jian Zhaowen, his eyes staring straight at the floor as if he wanted to bore a hole through it. Jian Zhaowen sat on a small stool by the table, his smile looking like he was about to cry: “Dad, are you sleepy? Should I help you to the bedroom to sleep?”
After settling Yu Zhimei’s father, her mother also washed up and closed the bedroom door. Yu Zhimei said in surprise, “Jian Zhaowen, you actually drank my dad under the table?”
“After drinking a hundred ‘deep-sea bombs’ with Lei Zheng and then drinking, having meetings, and arguing with him every day, how could I not develop a huge capacity for alcohol?” Jian Zhaowen burped loudly and staggered towards the bathroom: “Yu Zhimei, my head is spinning.”
It was almost past twelve o’clock. Jian Zhaowen lay in the spare bedroom, reeking of alcohol. Yu Zhimei felt a bit guilty—bringing him home only to have her father get him completely drunk was definitely not her intention. But just as Jian Zhaowen was about to speak, the phone rang. The voice was a middle-aged woman: “Son, are you coming home or not? It’s so hard to buy tickets from Shanghai to Beijing!”
Jian Zhaowen tried his best to articulate: “Tomorrow, tomorrow.”
“Drinking again? You just need a beating. When you come back, believe me, I’ll use a slipper to beat your butt until it blossoms! Just like your father.” The other side seemed to sigh: “You never come home every year, and when you finally do, I have to see you hungover. Tomorrow, after you get off the plane, I’ll cook some porridge. Tell your dad to drive slowly.”
Then the phone hung up. Yu Zhimei listened, somewhat surprised: “You didn’t tell your mom you were coming here?”
“Of course, I didn’t want to give you a burden. But...” Jian Zhaowen let out a drunken burp: “There’s something I want to ask you. Meeting the parents isn’t just dating anymore, it’s talking about marriage. Are you ready?”
“No.”
The bedside lamp was on. Yu Zhimei saw Jian Zhaowen’s hearty smile, guessing that at this moment he was speaking from the heart: “Funny coincidence, I’m not ready either. I’ve never thought about getting married, but with you, maybe this thing can work.” She said this without any grandiosity or impulsiveness, as if she had said similar words a few days ago.
“That...”
“Hmm?”
“I also wanted to ask... is your dad always such a heavy drinker?”
Jian Zhaowen, who left the next day at noon, drank a whole stomach full of hangover soup made by Yu Zhimei’s mother early in the morning. The northern style of soup seemed to lack a bit of the Cantonese essence. The strong medicinal and meaty flavors mixed together, plus a thirteen-spice seasoning packet... the aroma was overwhelming. As Jian Zhaowen drank, he couldn’t help but feel that he wasn’t sobering up, but rather getting an aphrodisiac. Yu Zhimei frowned after taking a sip: “Mom, who did you learn this soup recipe from?”
“Little tricks from my phone. But their recipe was too bland, no flavor at all, very plain, so I added some of my own ingredients.”
Yu Zhimei snatched Jian Zhaowen’s rice bowl: “Aren’t you afraid we’ll get poisoned?”
The father across the table still had his hair sticking up, as if he had just gotten off a roller coaster. His eyelids were thick with double folds, showing that the old man hadn’t drunk this much in a long time. The driver to the airport was changed to Yu Zhimei, and the car was much smoother. The father in the passenger seat wasn’t wearing sunglasses, and his eyes constantly met Jian Zhaowen’s in the rearview mirror: “Next time you come, stay a few more days. You ran off after just one night of drinking. Is it because we didn’t treat you well, or did you not take a liking to my daughter?”
“No, no.”
“Staying one more day is fine too. I’ll take you to see my workplace. The driving school is empty recently, we can drift a couple of laps.”
“...Dad, you drank so much, take a rest.”
Sitting in the back seat, Jian Zhaowen suddenly missed those sunglasses a bit.
On the morning of the New Year, all the roads were luxuriously empty. Yu Zhimei was still passionately discussing car modifications with her father, going from Xiali to Santana to Jetta, and then moving up to Mazda and Toyota 86. A man who had spent most of his life at the driving school also knew a lot about cars. Perhaps it was when they talked about the models he was familiar with that he praised the Santana and Jetta endlessly: “When you were in junior high school, the cars parents drove were all Jettas and Santanas, and the license plate numbers were all straight flushes. I was afraid you’d think the driving school’s cars were embarrassing, so I bought a new bicycle with a 28-inch frame. As a result, your mother’s car was too tall when she picked you up from school, and you two both fell into the ditch by the roadside. Do you remember?”
“Of course. I got a bump on my forehead the size of a fist.”
Dad’s “hmm” seemed to float out of his nose: “Thinking about it now, the Santana and Jetta were just so-so, just middle-class cars in small cities. Even if you left our small city and went to Harbin, you’d feel that BMWs and Mercedes-Benzes were the real luxury cars. It’s just that the bigger the world, the more expensive the desires, and there are countless things you can’t afford. On the contrary, you feel that the Jetta and Santana were quite good. You could reach them yourself. You couldn’t have them back then, so this is a wish that can be fulfilled.”
“How about I restore one for you when I have the chance?”
“We’ll see.” Dad’s eyes were still on Jian Zhaowen: “Let’s figure things out with this young man first.”
The back trunk was full of local specialties. Jian Zhaowen had never imagined that a northern family would prepare so many New Year’s goods. He had come unexpectedly, yet they were able to prepare so many gifts. He couldn’t carry all the gift boxes and plastic bags with both hands. Yu Zhimei’s mother had wrapped them into strange shapes with tape. Jian Zhaowen felt like he was committing robbery.
Yu Zhimei’s father saw Jian Zhaowen’s ears, red from the cold, and took a Lei Feng hat from the driver’s seat, putting it on Jian Zhaowen’s head: “Young man, it’s newly bought, don’t dislike it, Uncle.”
“Definitely not.” Jian Zhaowen had already learned the local dialect.
While Yu Zhimei was looking for the entrance, he approached Jian Zhaowen, and a smell of smoke wafted over: “If you don’t love my daughter, don’t rush to marry her. Think carefully, there’s no turning back, otherwise I’ll fight you to the death.”
The two hungover people seemed to crawl out of the dizzying waves, struggling for the last bit of sobriety under the bright sun and the shining snow. Jian Zhaowen looked seriously into those familiar eyes and answered gently yet firmly: “Uncle, we’re bonded by life-or-death friendship now, don’t worry.”
The previous night, Dad had reached a climax of emotion at the dinner table, covering his face and sobbing, lamenting that he couldn’t bear to see his daughter marry. Dad’s “fight you to the death” seemed to be a threat and a plea between men to keep a secret. Jian Zhaowen certainly understood that protecting the dignity between men was the first lesson in becoming a son-in-law.
Of course, Yu Zhimei wouldn’t know this.
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