4

When Uncle Lin came through the door, the startling thirst for blood in his eyes frightened me. He saw me and smiled, saying: “Qingqing, where’s the pigeon?” Zhuo Ran laughed out loud, recognizing the sardonic savagery in Uncle Lin’s words.

“In the kitchen, I can’t bare looking at it. Are you going to kill it now?” I asked.

“Yes, I will bring it to you for a last look. Ha-ha! Oh right, this must be Zhuo Ran?”

I really did not expect that Zhuo Ran would meet Uncle Lin on his first visit. I was going to bring Lin up later, so as to delay Zhuo Ran’s report to his family. Uncle Lin is the owner of the photo studio, and my mother works at his studio now. The two of them, so naturally entwined, is a wonderful thing. Actually, I had known Uncle Lin for quite a while. More precisely and conspicuously, it was before my father left, we met at my grandfather’s funeral. My mother asked him for a family photo shoot. He smiled at me, zooming in and out with the lens. I could not see his eyes, but I felt that his smile embodied a threat. Alongside the funeral music, it gave me chills down my spine.

He was not a bad person. If it wasn’t for him being the one who drove my father away, I would have believed that he was a perfectly amiable middle-aged man.

Zhuo Ran didn’t know what to do with this sudden change in events, but his confusion held both curiosity and excitement. I hated his excitement; he could always so easily display his best side to me, and I had to expose the parts I least wanted to. Perhaps that was how marriage was supposed to work: no veil, two people, completely naked, aside from the alarming defects of forgivable imperfections.

Uncle Lin took the pigeon to the courtyard and untied the ropes. It collapsed feebly on the ground, having lost all strength.

“Give it something to eat,” I said. “That poor creature, so pretty too.”

“If it was ugly, you wouldn’t mind, would you? It’s just a pigeon, good for your health,” Zhuo Ran said.

“Humph, so you haven’t had enough of those dried scallops, Chinese angelica, and dang shen? This is a life. It hasn’t done anything wrong!” I found myself getting quite upset.

Zhuo Ran stared, dazed, not uttering a word. He quietly entwined his fingers with mine. All of a sudden, my heart melted. I was more anxious, or nervous, or uneasy than upset. He was innocent in this after all. Who isn’t?

“It is a homing pigeon,” said Uncle Lin. “Its feet have words written on them. Must have traveled a long way, a good pigeon.”

By then, delicious smells wafted up from the kitchen. My mother had started to prepare her best dish, the eggplant clay pot with braised yellow croaker. The rich scent of soy sauce almost brought back childhood memories. It had been so long since the house bustled with so many people. It was as if I were in a dream. I could either relive it, or look forward to it—such a lovely four-member household and common family happiness.

“Uncle Lin”, I beckoned. “Let it go.”

5

Obviously, this dinner made mother quite nervous. She was not yet ready to chat. Perhaps that was why she suddenly wanted Uncle Lin to be present. It made me feel quite awkward as well. Uncle Lin kept the pigeon in the courtyard. As we ate our soy-sauce-rich dinner, it kept on pecking rice, drinking water and cooing, which caused quite a stir. My mother, though, hadn’t quite given and kept nagging: “Why aren’t we eating such a good pigeon.” Zhuo Ran on the other hand, kept praising my kindness, obvious flattery.

Uncle Lin said to Zhuo Ran: “Qingqing has quite a temper; her moods are so changeable. But, she means well. I watched her grow up. She is very sensitive. Tolerate her as much as you can.”

Zhuo Ran kept nodding, even my mother nodded along as well.

Mother asked Zhuo Ran: “It is good?” And she put a chopstick-full in his bowl.

I became irritated: “He can eat by himself, no need to help him.”

“It’s alright,” Zhuo Ran said politely.

Hatefully, I thought of the “serving” chopsticks. “It is good?” I asked.

But to me, Zhuo Ran’s answer would not make a difference. “Uncle Lin is a good person; we’ve been friends for a long time. You should be nice to Uncle Lin from now on,” I told Zhuo Ran in a dull voice, while keeping my head down, avoiding his gaze.

After night fell, as my mother tidied up and chopped fruits, Zhuo Ran, Uncle Lin, and I watched television and played a round of poker. I never anticipated the three of us sitting together, but everything seemed so pleasant, cozy, and full of life. Such a rare occasion, yet illusory. Somehow, I felt that this would the first time and the last time. All beautiful things are veiled and transitory.

“Looking at you youngsters makes me feel old,” said Uncle Lin. “You still have a wonderful youth and a wonderful life. All is well.”

“Uncle Lin, how old are you?” asked Zhuo Ran.

“This year happens to be the Chinese Zodiac Year for Qingqing and I, so I’m…12 years older than her,” Uncle Lin answered in a flash.

“Wha…”

“It’s 24 years,” I corrected him.

“Oh, ha! My mistake. Old age has addled my wits,” Uncle Lin laughed. My mother overheard our conversation, and came-in in earnest. She tapped Uncle Lin’s shoulder with a wet finger.

“Oh, right!” Uncle Lin looked at my mother and then at us apologetically. He told Zhuo Ran: “Qingqing’s mother only has Qingqing, and I have no children of my own. I have always treated her as my own daughter. Her mother means—”

6

The homing pigeon stayed with us for several days; Uncle Lin phoned the Homing Pigeon Association, but he could not find anyone to adopt it. Bizarrely, pigeon keepers rejected our wishes to give it away, perhaps afraid that our true intention was a high price. Neighbors coming and going at the studio all expressed their doubt at our decision to send the pigeon away. Though, some expressed interest in it purely as dinner. Uncle Lin refused them all. In the end, he made up his mind to keep it, perhaps in an attempt to please me and my bitter heart. He even ventured to the pet market and bought a massive pigeon case. However, after spending his first day with it, someone called and wanted to take it.

Uncle Lin asked mother about my opinion. I said: “Give it away.”

So, the pigeon case ended up at my place, all empty as it stood in the courtyard. Once it bustled with life, once it was filled, but that seemed like a hallucination.

As for the heated argument that night, neither of us mentioned it later.

My mother wanted to move out of our house to live with Uncle Lin so I could sell it and buy a place with Zhuo Ran. What Zhuo Ran had in mind, in line with his parents’ wishes, was for me to live with his family, and accept my house as the dowry. All I wanted was to keep the house—the house my father lived in. Even just one more day would be worth it.

Zhuo Ran’s father said to me on the phone: “I thought that girls with your condition would cherish the opportunity to marry into a family like ours.” At that moment, I realized I still had the opportunity to protect my family, just like Zhuo Ran’s family protected him.

My mother told me: “Besides the house, I have nothing to offer you. I am sorry, and I owe it to your father, too. But I don’t want you to feel poor, because we all love you. Be with the person you love, that has nothing to do with money or a house. We don’t have great means, but that can change.”

“You have to be with who you love as well. Don’t do it for me; do it for yourself,” I said to my mother.

“Qingqing, mom has money,” she added, musing.

But I really could not bear hearing these three words. These three words were the most ear-piercing and heart-wrenching words in the whole world. Every time she uttered these three words, I felt like I could give up everything in my life. No romantic love could heal this scar in my heart.

After the Spring Festival, Uncle Lin and my mother got their wedding certificate. It was a day with heavy snow, a good omen. I praised my mother as the “bride in the snow”. Her smile was shy, yet moving. I had never seen her so shy, never a smile like that.

I took their wedding photo. In Uncle Lin’s studio, the three of us set up lights together. I was like a photographer in an old film, ordering them “to the left, to the right, a little closer, smile!”

Also, I used film, complicated technical stuff. Later, I managed to hang the photo on the wall along with all the other photos in our house—that is, after some fiddling and reordering. There really was no room for this pair of newlyweds.

Fortunately, an auspicious snowfall promises a fruitful year.

-TRANSLATED BY WEIJING ZHU (祝伟婧)

Author’s Note: This story originates from the scene “bringing theboyfriend home for the fi rst time.” Personal relations in a coldworld are the most common, yet most diffi cult, subject to depict,especially when you still want to maintain the warmth of life andmaintain the peaceful visage of the characters while their heartsboil. That is similar to this short story, which ultimately is warmand blissful.