Chapter 10: New Year

The heart at night is like a street. Think of one thing, and a lamp comes on. Think of too many things, and the whole street blazes with light.

—Zhuge Naonao

Su Nan spent that year’s New Year in an unusually desolate atmosphere.

The television played one jubilant program after another, filled with singing and laughter. In front of it, the three women sat facing one another without speaking. Only Ningning occasionally cried.

A child understood neither the old year nor the new, neither joyful reunions nor sorrowful separations, nor how some households celebrated while others grieved. She knew only to cry when hungry and smile when full.

After forcing herself to remain awake through midnight, Su Nan went into the bathroom to wash. While tying back her hair, she heard her mother pleading with Su Jing in the living room.

“Get divorced. I’m still here to help you care for Ningning. As long as I have something to eat, how could I ever let her go hungry? Find a job at a supermarket and earn around a thousand yuan each month. Nannan still sends some money home too. If the three of us work together, what hardship couldn’t we overcome?”

Su Nan pulled down the showerhead. Not paying attention, she released cold water first. It poured over her hand, piercingly cold.

Chen Zhiyu’s New Year was exceedingly uneventful.

The Chen and Cheng families lived near each other and usually celebrated New Year together. Including Chen Zhiyu’s maternal uncle and aunt, his older cousin and her husband, and their recently turned three-year-old daughter, there were nearly a dozen people in all.

The noisy gathering did not disperse until two in the morning. Chen Zhiyu and Cheng Wan were preparing to return home and rest when Gu Xinhong called them out for drinks.

Gu Xinhong had grown up in the same residential compound as Cheng Wan. He had served in the military for several years before leaving the service and going into business in the north, where he had become extremely successful. Everyone now addressed him as “Boss Gu.”

Boss Gu had booked the entire venue. It was filled with familiar faces, and even the music was Bob Dylan. There were no blinding lights and no young women with unnaturally pointed faces. It was a proper gathering for old friends to catch up.

When they met, Gu Xinhong first brought someone over and introduced her to everyone.

“Mrs. Gu.”

“Mrs. Gu” was quiet and gentle. She was very young and somewhat nervous in the crowd, but Gu Xinhong protected her so thoroughly that nothing could reach her. It was clear that he genuinely intended to settle down.

After greeting everyone, Gu Xinhong sat beside Chen Zhiyu. They raised their glasses and drank together.

Chen Zhiyu asked, “How old is this Mrs. Gu of yours? Has she even reached the legal marriage age?”

“She’s twenty-two! She only looks young.”

“Can you truly settle down?”

“She’s from a respectable family. Young as she is, she’s very considerate and knows how to care for someone.”

Chen Zhiyu smiled. “All right. Then let me wish you a long life together in advance. When is the wedding?”

“October, in Beijing. You’d better honor me with your presence.”

“Even if I have to abandon an entire classroom of students, I’ll be there to support you, Lord Gu.”

Gu Xinhong tapped his cigarette against the ashtray and looked at Chen Zhiyu. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I’ve heard that you haven’t had anyone beside you all these years. What are you planning to do, become a monk?”

“My six senses remain impure. The monastery wouldn’t accept me.”

Gu Xinhong was unconvinced. “The noble cause of education won’t collapse without you. You’re only thirty-four. Are you planning to spend the rest of your life like this?”

“Don’t I still have Cheng Wan to accompany me?”

“She can accompany you to dinner and drinks. Can she accompany you to bed?”

“Boss Gu.” Chen Zhiyu laughed. “Must you turn vulgar the moment you open your mouth? If I needed that, do you think I’d have difficulty finding someone?”

“It isn’t the same.”

“Coming from you, those words have absolutely no credibility.”

Gu Xinhong’s expression turned serious. “I only understand it now. Whether you truly like someone makes an entirely different feeling.”

“Lord Gu, why are you sharing intimate details now?”

Gu Xinhong patted his shoulder and spoke with the earnest gravity of an older brother. “To put it harshly, half your life has already passed. Stop trapping yourself in a dead end.”

By the time the gathering ended, dawn was approaching.

Cheng Wan had drunk too much. The moment they entered the apartment, she vomited violently.

Afraid she might fall into the toilet, Chen Zhiyu knocked on the bathroom door. She answered from inside, followed by the sound of flushing.

When he opened the door, Cheng Wan was sitting against the toilet on the cold tiles. She raised a hand and asked him for a cigarette.

“There aren’t any left. Take a shower and go to sleep.”

He bent to help her up.

Cheng Wan abruptly swatted his hand away and laughed. “Brother, tell me, what is the point of being alive?”

When she was young, she had always called him “Brother.” Wherever he went, she followed. She said she would help him conquer the realm. When he declared himself emperor, she would become his general, and together they would expand their territory and pacify the land.

Now she had entered politics, but her career had nothing to do with those grand ambitions. All that remained were schemes and calculations of personal interest.

Chen Zhiyu ignored her. He seized her arm and pulled her upright, then pressed her over the sink and wiped her face. He dragged her into the bedroom, pushed her onto the bed, poured a glass of water, and placed it beside her. He left a small lamp on.

“Cheng Wan, if you still consider me your brother, listen to my advice. Cut ties with those disreputable people.”

The small amount of warmth she obtained through self-indulgence was too shallow. It burned for less than a night before dissipating.

Cheng Wan rolled over and covered her eyes with one arm.

“I ran into her last month. Her child was five or six years old, and she was holding the child’s hand. The little one wasn’t afraid of strangers at all. She called me ‘Auntie’ and asked if I wanted some candy. She smiled at me. It was such a beautiful smile, exactly the same as it was fifteen years ago.”

Chen Zhiyu listened in silence.

“I’ve gone too far. I can’t return, and I don’t know where else I can go.”

Cheng Wan finally fell asleep. Chen Zhiyu closed the door and left.

It was almost dawn. A faint wash of warm color appeared above the distant buildings. The wind was cold as it entered through the window, carrying the dampness of the previous night.

He took out a cigarette and flicked the lighter. It took two attempts to produce a flame.

He felt restless and oppressed, as though he had to do something. By the time he had smoked half the cigarette, he finally realized that he wanted to make a phone call.

His coat had been tossed beside the entrance. He walked over, picked it up, and removed his phone from the pocket.

The screen was black. Pressing the button produced no response.

Only then did he remember that the battery had died long ago.

Time was a carelessly produced disc whose slow-motion button someone had pressed, preventing it from ever reaching the important scene.

During the first few days of the new semester, Su Nan could not sit still.

She understood what she was anticipating, yet instinctively denied that anticipation. Her anxiety only exposed it more clearly until it had nowhere left to hide.

Finally, Wednesday morning arrived: the first session of Explorations in Empirical Research.

She opened her eyes at six and immediately rolled out of bed. She washed, brushed her teeth, and ate breakfast. Only when she organized her backpack for the third time did she realize how slowly time was passing.

At seven thirty, she left the dormitory and headed to the classroom in the school administration building.

She walked faster than usual and arrived at seven forty. A staff member had already unlocked the door and left it slightly ajar.

Assuming no one was inside, she pushed it open abruptly.

A familiar figure suddenly entered her field of vision, and her heart missed a beat.

Hearing the door open, the figure turned around.

“Professor Chen.”

“You’re here early.” He smiled.

He wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and every button fastened precisely. Yet the smile on his face had nothing to do with his stern, respectable appearance.

“I came to switch on the equipment.” Her ears reddened. She hurriedly withdrew her gaze, lowered her head, and rushed to find a seat for her bag.

A moment later, something occurred to her.

“You’re... quite early too.”

“Mm. I was waiting for you to come and switch on the equipment.”

She stopped breathing and blinked twice. “Was I late?”

Amusement colored his voice. “No. But you could come even earlier.”

Su Nan walked to the lectern. As she switched on the computer, she glanced from the corner of her eye at the figure beside the window.

“When did you arrive?”

“Just before you.”

He had arrived at seven.

He had nearly smoked half a pack of cigarettes before seeing a figure emerge beneath the shadows of the trees in front of the building. She had run the entire way like the wind, the hem of her coat rising and falling with every movement.

Su Nan smiled faintly. “That’s good.”

With practiced ease, she switched on the computer, connected his laptop, tested the sound equipment, then took his cup to the tearoom around the corner and filled it with hot water.

She had performed this standard sequence countless times before. Today, however, every step carried an irrepressible joy and a secret sweetness.

“Professor Chen, everything is ready.”

Su Nan placed the cup where it would be convenient for his right hand to reach, then raised her head to look at Chen Zhiyu.

“Mm.”

The foolish student’s eyes held nothing but his brightly illuminated reflection and equally brilliant delight.

“Why didn’t you email me last Saturday?”

Her smile briefly stiffened. “You didn’t say I still needed to during New Year.”

“Did you send Professor Lin a New Year’s greeting?”

“Yes.”

“Your high school homeroom teacher?”

“Yes.”

“Your middle school homeroom teacher?”

“Yes.”

“Your primary school homeroom teacher?”

“I... I sent one to her too.”

“Then why didn’t you send one to me?”

Su Nan froze. Lost and flustered, she blinked rapidly. A moment later, she lowered her eyes and apologized.

“I’m sorry.”

His mood immediately improved, and he started toward the lectern.

The person standing there instinctively retreated two steps, descended from the platform, and returned to her seat in the first row, where he required her to sit.

She opened her notebook and somewhat frantically pulled a pen from her pencil case. Then, as though only now realizing class had not yet begun, she paused and put it back down.

From where he stood, he could see every movement clearly.

It reminded him of watching a parrot through the bars of its cage as a child, teasing a Pekingese with a meaty bone, or using a feather to play with a palm-sized kitten.

He instantly restrained his thoughts and irritably reached into his pocket for a cigarette.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor.

He hurriedly snapped the cigarette he had just taken out, straightened his collar, and stood with solemn composure.