Chapter 8: The Red Houses

There are so many words hidden in the heart, waiting especially for one person.

—Fei Ming

In the period before winter break, Chen Zhiyu kept Su Nan running in circles.

Thursday, the classroom.

It was the final session of Schools of Thought in Communication Studies, and the entire class was presenting their final projects. As the class representative, Su Nan bent over her notes, recording everything while remaining alert to all activity around her.

An arm reached over and placed a cup in front of her. When she looked up, mischievous amusement immediately entered his eyes.

“Get me some hot water.”

Friday, the office.

When Su Nan arrived, Chen Zhiyu was smoking. He was not wearing one of his stiff, formal suits, only a pullover loosely draped over his body. Two buttons at the collar of his shirt were undone, yet the wide-open window was allowing cold air to howl into the room. She could not tell whether he was cold or hot.

As usual, Su Nan sat on the small sofa she habitually used. Occasionally, she looked up. Behind the desk, Chen Zhiyu’s eyes were fixed on his laptop screen, his brows tightly furrowed. He seemed to be reading some momentous piece of international news or reviewing an unfortunate student’s final assignment.

“Professor Chen, may I take a book from your cabinet? There’s something I need to confirm.”

“Help yourself.”

Su Nan rose and opened the bookcase. In passing, she glanced at Chen Zhiyu’s laptop screen.

It displayed the latest chapter of a certain famously popular, long-running manga.

Su Nan was speechless.

Saturday, the office.

A cold wave struck, turning Dancheng into an icehouse overnight.

Wrapped in a down jacket, Su Nan arrived at the school administration building. The office door was open, but no one was inside.

She sat down and worked for a while. Hearing footsteps, she looked up and first saw an armful of vibrant roses.

The person who entered casually tossed the flowers onto the coffee table before her.

“Take them home, dry them, and use them to make tea. You can eat them too.”

The beautiful cellophane trembled twice. Drops of dew quivered on the petals, poised to fall.

“Who sent them to you?”

“I don’t know.”

Su Nan fell silent.

He had already settled into his chair, his crossed legs resting on the desk as he leaned lazily against the backrest.

“Why are you staring at me? I became immune to this sort of trick twenty years ago.”

Su Nan lowered her head and pushed the flowers aside with what looked like mild distaste.

“Twenty years ago... Weren’t you still playing in the mud at kindergarten?”

“I never attended kindergarten,” Su Nan quietly protested. “I went directly to primary school.”

“Oh. Then you were playing in the mud outside the neighborhood committee office.”

Sunday, the office.

As usual, a bouquet was tossed onto the coffee table. As usual, it was roses.

Chen Zhiyu tugged off his tie and clicked his tongue. “Could this be any more clichéd?”

“You... didn’t try to find out who sent them?”

“And if I did, should I invite them to dinner?”

Su Nan searched the bouquet repeatedly for him, but there was not even a small card.

“Perhaps... one of the female students sent them.”

“You students nowadays are really something. You even dare set your sights on your professors.”

“Perhaps she simply admires you.”

“Sending me money would be much more practical.”

“You aren’t short of money.”

“I’m not short of flowers either.” Chen Zhiyu glanced at her. “What did you do with yesterday’s bouquet?”

“I took it back to the dormitory.”

People had stared at her the entire way, and her roommates had interrogated her once she arrived.

“Then take this one back too. It only takes up space here.”

Su Nan muttered, “Our entire dormitory isn’t as large as your office.”

After recording the grades for three in-class assignments and the final examination, it was already noon.

Su Nan emailed the grade sheet to Chen Zhiyu and partially closed her laptop.

“Professor Chen, I’ve finished calculating everything.”

“Mm.” Chen Zhiyu picked up the coat draped over the back of his chair. “Come on. I’ll treat you to lunch.”

“There’s no need.”

“I’m returning to Chongcheng tomorrow.”

Without another word, Su Nan began packing her laptop bag.

When they reached the door, the figure ahead of her stopped and turned to remind her, “The flowers.”

Holding the bouquet, Su Nan climbed into Chen Zhiyu’s car.

The more carefully she considered it, the more she felt that a female student privately dining alone with a male professor fell just short of being improper, yet also just short of being entirely innocent. It was ambiguous, like bait dangling before her and luring her thoughts in every imaginable direction.

She had entered the car stiffly and hesitantly, yet the meal itself was utterly free of distraction. If not for the two meat dishes on the table, it would have possessed all the solemn dignity of meditating on the ground.

Su Nan could not help reproaching herself.

The bodhi is no tree, nor the bright mirror a stand. Like dew or lightning, all is a dream and an illusion.

Amitabha.

The cold wave had not passed. Beneath the thin sunlight, several old trees were battered by the bitter wind until they seemed ready to snap. Dead branches and fallen leaves covered the ground.

Chen Zhiyu stood beside the car without getting in. “I’m not driving you back. Can you return by yourself?”

Without thinking, she answered, “Yes.”

It would be inappropriate for him to drive her back and stop beneath her dormitory building.

Chen Zhiyu braced his left arm against the car. From one step away, he lowered his head to look at her.

“Thank you for this semester.”

“It was what I should have done.”

A trace of laughter mingled with his voice, though she could not determine its precise meaning.

“Very well. Happy New Year in advance.”

“Happy New Year to you too.”

He remained where he was, as though he had something else to say.

She raised her eyes but met only an unfathomably deep gaze.

“Is there something else, Professor Chen?”

“The flowers. You forgot them.”

He opened the car door, retrieved the unfortunate bouquet its owner had rejected, and pushed it into her arms.

Its rich fragrance flooded her embrace.

The roses were full and dark crimson, lending a touch of vivid color even to her fair skin.

She blinked slowly and wrapped her arms around them.

Chen Zhiyu opened the door, climbed into the car, shifted into gear, and started the engine.

In the rearview mirror, the foolish student holding the flowers receded into the distance until only a tiny scarlet dot remained.

Looking through the window, Su Nan’s gaze passed over the deep alley twisting through seven bends and eight turns, the haphazard rows of low concrete buildings, and the snow churned into filthy slush by passing tires.

Across the river stood three small red houses, rising abruptly from the ground.

Su Nan had not returned to Qicheng in nearly a year. The small city changed every day, and those three red houses were an unfamiliar “surprise” that had appeared in her absence.

A baby’s cry drew her attention back to her older sister Su Jing’s ceaseless complaints, which had begun early that morning.

“Even if I knew where that woman worked, what could I do? He won’t want Ningning. After the divorce, he would only have to pay a little child support each month. It wouldn’t even be enough to buy Ningning’s diapers. I don’t want things to be this way either...”

As she spoke, Su Jing efficiently pulled the diaper from beneath the baby’s bottom.

“Hand me the toilet paper.”

She accepted it, tore off two sections, wiped the baby clean, applied some heat-rash powder, and put on a fresh diaper before dressing the child again layer by layer.

The baby stretched out both arms and tried to crawl away, but Su Jing pulled the child back. Just as the baby’s mouth puckered in preparation to cry, a bottle nipple was thrust between their lips. The baby hiccupped, seized the bottle, and began sucking eagerly.

At some point, a moth had landed on the window. It was dusty gray and remained completely still, resembling an enormous speck of mud.

“I’ve thought it through. Why should I get divorced? A divorce would only benefit that bitch. If I refuse to move out, what can he do to me? Ningning isn’t even a year old yet.”

“Don’t tell Mom. She worries too much. She’ll start imagining things again and won’t have any peace. I’m already like this. I only hope Mom and Ningning can be well.”

“Study hard. Don’t end up like me.”

Su Nan barely managed to say anything throughout the entire morning.

She only half listened, spending most of her time observing the red houses and the mud-colored speck on the window.

After finally coaxing the baby to sleep, Su Jing tossed the dirty clothes into a bucket.

“Sit here for a while. I’m going to wash these. Keep an eye on Ningning for me.”

“Sis.” Su Nan looked up and pointed. “What are those buildings?”

“Oh, the Cultural Figures Exhibition Hall. It was built while you were away. Mom likes going there to escape the summer heat. You’ve never visited? You could take a look.”

The Qicheng Cultural Figures and Works Exhibition Hall had received approval for construction at the beginning of the year and opened only the previous month. After the locals had joined the initial excitement, it became almost deserted. Only young couples occasionally visited to take wedding photographs.

A notice at the entrance stated that the exhibition hall would be closed from the twenty-sixth day of the twelfth lunar month until the seventh day of the first lunar month.

Today was only the twentieth, and the middle and high school brats had not yet begun their holiday.

Admission was free, with tickets issued upon presentation of identification.

Holding a thin numbered slip, Su Nan entered one of the red houses.

Qicheng was such a tiny place that after searching everywhere, the organizers had found only a handful of “cultural figures.” They had even included overseas Chinese donors who had funded local education merely to fill out the numbers, barely managing to assemble three exhibition halls.

The works on display were even more pitiful. They had dug up “poetry by retired officials” from unknown corners, mounted and bound it, then placed it prominently inside display cases.

By the time Su Nan reached the western hall, she had grown bored and was about to leave. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a pristine white architectural model beneath a glass cover and immediately stopped.

She stepped forward and lowered her head to read its description:

S University Art Museum Designers: Zhou Guanyuan, Yang Luo, Chen Zhiyu

After leaving the red houses, Su Nan stopped at the supermarket to buy Su Jing a new bottle of dishwashing liquid.

The weather was cold, and pedestrians hurried along the road. The only exceptions were several unruly children who looked like middle school students, laughing as they threw firecrackers beneath the tires of passing cars.

Su Nan had feared those things since childhood. She zipped her down jacket to the top and hurriedly took a different route.

At the entrance to the alley, a familiar sedan abruptly entered her field of vision.

She froze, pulled down her scarf, and narrowed her eyes for a closer look.

It had a Chong-A license plate.

Su Nan lingered for a while before slowly approaching. Before she reached the car, the window opened. Chen Zhiyu, whom she had not seen for more than half a month, leaned his head out with evident surprise.

“Su Nan.”

“Professor Chen.”

Chen Zhiyu’s gaze swept over the bottle in her hand. “Do you live nearby?”

“Mm.”

The car door opened, and Chen Zhiyu stepped out. The moment his polished leather shoe touched the ground, it was splashed with muddy water.

Harboring the enormous secret she had just discovered, Su Nan did not dare look at him.

“Did you come to Qicheng to see the maple trees? The leaves have already fallen.”

“No. I came to deliver some materials.”

When he said the word “materials,” her heart inexplicably gave a jolt.

The next moment, Chen Zhiyu asked, “Do you know where the Cultural Figures and Works Exhibition Hall is?”

Su Nan’s hand seemed to have stiffened from the cold and would not obey her.

Only after a long while did she slowly raise one finger and point nearby.

“Over there. The three red houses. They’re easy to see.”

Chen Zhiyu laughed. “Thanks. I haven’t been here in more than ten years. Qicheng has changed so much that the roads are difficult to recognize.”

“You should go. My sister is waiting for the dishwashing liquid.”

Before she could finish speaking, a sudden burst of shouting erupted from the alley.

She raised her head and saw the sister waiting for the dishwashing liquid at the far end of the alley, violently grappling with a large, heavyset man.