On this day Wang Qiyao sent a solemn invitation asking Zhang Yonghong to come over so that she could learn more about Xiao Lin. In reality, this wasn’t exactly her intention; she had already heard most of what she wanted to know from Weiwei’s own loose lips. What Wang Qiyao really wanted to do was to give notice to Zhang Yonghong that Xiao Lin was now Weiwei’s boyfriend. She was wary that Zhang Yonghong might change her mind and interfere with the new relationship. Wang Qiyao understood that Weiwei was no match for Zhang Yonghong, especially given how easily the embers of love could flare up again among young people. Partly too, she wanted to offer Zhang Yonghong a bit of consolation. Zhang Yonghong had sensed the nature of the invitation and, as soon as the subject was broached, she immediately declared her enthusiastic support for the new couple, even taking credit for introducing them. Wang Qiyao couldn’t help but marvel at the girl’s intelligence and arrogance. But she was still a child after all, and lacked an adult’s suavity. Her performance was far too exaggerated and seemed unnatural. Wang Qiyao could see her disappointment and her heart went out to this girl who had no adults looking out for her and had now to contend with an adult adversary. Out of guilt, she changed the subject and asked her if she had found a steady boyfriend. Zhang Yonghong was surprised by the question, but didn’t say anything.
“Don’t tell me that, out of all those boys,” said Wang Qiyao, “none of them suits your fancy?”
Zhang Yonghong remained silent, but her eyes started to turn red. Wang Qiyao’s comments seemed to have touched off something inside her.
Wang Qiyao heaved a sigh. “I’ll say what I’ve said before: they may all be clamoring for you today, but in the blink of an eye they’ll be running like startled animals. Women have only so much time to settle down. Those who miss the boat are mostly smart, beautiful girls like you.”
Zhang Yonghong lowered her head and remained silent for a long time before replying, “Which one of them did you think was good for me?”
Wang Qiyao laughed at her childish mannerisms. “Why does what I think matter? It’s what you think that is important!”
Zhang Yonghong also laughed. “Please. .” she implored with a touch of childish beseeching, “I want to hear your opinion.”
“Well, I don’t have an opinion,” responded Wang Qiyao.
“You gave Weiwei your opinion about her boyfriend. How come you can’t help me?” Zhang Yonghong pleaded.
Although she didn’t mean anything in particular by this question, it made Wang Qiyao uncomfortable. After a brief pause, she replied, “If you want to know the truth, I never told Weiwei half the things I shared with you. You are much sharper than her, but sometimes I’m afraid that you are too smart for your own good.”
Zhang Yonghong didn’t say anything more. The two of them sat facing each other in silence for a while before Zhang Yonghong took her leave.
In the meantime, Weiwei’s boyfriend Xiao Lin was at a critical phase in his preparation for the college entrance exams, which naturally meant that he had less time to spend with her. Wang Qiyao noticed how bored and lonely Weiwei was and couldn’t help worrying that all this talk of “preparing for the exam” was merely an excuse. But then again, she realized that her daughter was not in immediate danger of becoming an old maid; even if it didn’t work out with Xiao Lin, she would still have plenty of opportunities to find a proper man. But she was still worried. At ten o’clock that night, after Weiwei had already showered and gone to bed, Xiao Lin unexpectedly called out to her from the longtang below. Weiwei went down in her nightgown and didn’t come back up. Wang Qiyao figured that she wouldn’t go far in her nightgown, but went to check up on her under the pretext of going to buy mosquito-repellent incense. At the end of the longtang she saw two figures standing at the intersection under the streetlight. There was a bicycle between them and they were talking. Weiwei was, as was her wont, acting silly, bearing her fangs and brandishing her claws to show how tough she was; the sound of her laughter carried deep into the night. Wang Qiyao sneaked back home. As she opened the door and stepped inside she felt calm, but was also struck with a feeling of emptiness. The feeling was set off by the empty room, where the only other presence was her shadow. The mirror on her nightstand was even more unbearable; standing outside the mirror and reflected within it was the same lonely soul. She should not have looked. Just as she was standing there, she heard Weiwei come flapping up the stairs in her slippers.
“Why did Xiao Lin come by so late?” asked Wang Qiyao.
“He got sick of studying and needed a break. He thought seeing me would help him relax.”
“Next time invite him up for some watermelon,” suggested Wang Qiyao.
“Who cares about watermelon?”
The next time Xiao Lin came over, he called Weiwei outside again for another evening chat under the streetlight. This time, however, Wang Qiyao walked over to them and told Weiwei that she had to pick up a few things at the store. She said she had left the door open and asked if Weiwei and her friend could go back and keep an eye on the place. Weiwei felt she had no choice but to drag Xiao Lin home, grumbling the whole time about how senseless her mother was to have forgotten to lock the door. The two of them went upstairs and talked about all kinds of things, and in the absence of Wang Qiyao they both felt much more at ease. Xiao Lin walked around the apartment; pointing at the walnut chest, he commented, “This is an antique.”
He went over to the mirror on the nightstand. “This is too, and it’s still in good shape.”
“Since when do mirrors go out of shape?” Weiwei replied.
Xiao Lin laughed but didn’t argue with her. Examining a pearly bed curtain he concluded that this too was an antique.
“So, to you,” Weiwei retorted, “our house is a second-hand store?” Xiao Lin knew she had misunderstood him, but didn’t try to explain. It was at that moment that Wang Qiyao came upstairs carrying several blocks of ice cream; she went into the kitchen for plates and spoons to serve them. The two young people were a bit edgy after their last exchange and neither spoke. Wang Qiyao asked Xiao Lin a series of questions, such as how his preparation for the exam was going and where the exam was to be held. Weiwei took the liberty of answering most of the questions for him. Xiao Lin couldn’t seem to get a word in edgewise and resorted to staring down at the floral patterns and gold rims on the plates; he was thinking to himself how rare it was to see such fine china these days. Xiao Lin may have been young, but he had a deep nostalgia for the past and was fond of everything old, not because he had ever enjoyed those things, but precisely because he had never had the opportunity. Everything he knew of the old days he learned from stories his parents told him; it was inevitable that they should have a few good memories, living in that old apartment of theirs. Xiao Lin saw in the things at Wang Qiyao’s apartment the remains of the old days; though they were just odds and ends, he could perceive that they were real.