Chapter 19 (1/2)

Chapter 19

After the summer vacation, Zhang Xiujuan’s body never truly recovered. When she was tired, she could sometimes even fall asleep in the courtyard. Xie Meng had to keep watching over her to prevent her from getting a cold or heatstroke.

Ji Qinyang’s music theory exam results came out before the start of their third year of high school. Xie Meng did not ask, and he did not say either. The form teacher of Class 6 had sought him out a few times, and it seemed like quite many music colleges had offered him a space.

They had a heavier class load now, and their homework stacked up like mountains. It felt as though their leisure time were truly precious now. Xie Meng spent most of his time reviewing his language classes, while Ji Qinyang sat next to him and guided him.

“Write down the line from Nalan Xingde’s poem that expresses the yearning between lovers.”

Xie Meng wrote in his book. “If time could stop at the first moment we meet…”

Ji Qinyang laughed. “It’s not this line.”

Xie Meng glanced at him. “This line is more familiar.”

Ji Qinyang smiled and shook his head. He took Xie Meng’s book, and with words as pretty and exquisite as him, he wrote, “Two entwined for life, an overwhelming dispute, yearning and longing but not together, for whom is spring.”

Early October, Ji Qinyang began preparing to attend the interview at Beijing Central Conservatory of Music (Zhongyin). He applied for a month off school, and Mo Suyuan planned on accompanying him the whole time.

“This time, we can go to Beijing and have a good time.” His mother packed her clothes into the luggage. “I remember that we’ve been there when you were very young, but I don’t know how it looks like now.”

Ji Qinyang was sitting by the window, in a daze. He acknowledged his mother dully, and his headphones were around his neck.

Mo Suyuan looked at her son. After a moment of deliberation, she slowly asked, “You don’t want to go to Zhongyin anymore?”

Ji Qinyang turned his head around, cocking his brow. “Of course not… Don’t overthink it.”

Mo Suyuan sighed. “I just feel that you don’t seem very motivated. Previously, when you received the recommendation letter, you were still quite interested. Now, when you’re about to go for the interview, you don’t seem to place too much importance on it.” Mo Suyuan reached out, brushing her son’s fringe and speaking gently, “I know you’ve applied for Shangyin as well… But I hope you’ll consider clearly what is it you exactly want.”

Ji Qinyang pulled his headphones over his head. He grabbed the handrail, swaying along with the bus. Other than during the New Year, Shantang Street always had a spectacular crowd, and so there were many people waiting for the bus at the bus stop.

On the bridge was a stall selling fried smelly tofu. The hawker was already very familiar with Ji Qinyang, and he called out to him from afar. “Are you eating today?”

Ji Qinyang smiled and waved his hand. “Not today.”

He crossed the bridge and walked along the river, down the narrow lane, and finally stopped outside the gate of Xie Meng’s courtyard.

Zhang Xiujuan was sitting in a rattan chair in the courtyard. The half-closed door hid Ji Qinyang, and she did not see him.

The boy stood there quietly for a while. He heard Xie Meng shout from within the house, “Grandma.”

The old radio next to Zhang Xiujuan was playing <Dream of the Red Chamber>. The old lady was engrossed, and she only replied after a long time, “Hey.”

Xie Meng walked out with a bowl and chopsticks.

“Grandma,” The boy coaxed. “It’s time to eat.”

Zhang Xiujuan was like a child, seeming a little unwilling. “I don’t feel like eating.”

Xie Meng dragged a chair over. “Even if you don’t feel like eating, you have to eat a bit. I’ll feed you.”

The old lady grumbled something, but at last she still obediently ate the food her grandson fed her.

“I’m old now,” Zhang Xiujuan sighed as she ate. “These few days, I’ve been dreaming about your parents. They say they want to bring me to them so that they can show their filial respect.”

Xie Meng smiled. “Is my filial piety not enough?”

Zhang Xiujuan snorted. “It’s not your turn yet.”

Xie Meng did not say anything. After feeding her a few mouthfuls, he suddenly stopped and held Zhang Xiujuan’s hand. “Let me show my filial piety, alright? I’ll be filial to you till you’re a 100 years old. You must live till you’re a hundred, if not you’ll lose out.”

“Silly child.” The old lady was amused. “Who can live for a hundred years? The dramas are all lying to you.”

Zhang Xiujuan tucked her hair behind her ear, then she patted Xie Meng on the back of his hand. “Grandma doesn’t want to hold you back… You were looking at the universities in Beijing a while ago, weren’t you? That’s a place where Chairman Mao1 had lived before, and Grandma has never been there. If my grandson can go there, that’s something to be very proud of.”

Zhang Xiujuan looked at Xie Meng. The wrinkles around her eyes seemed to mark her years, but her eyes were still clear and bright.

“Grandson, you have to remember,” She laughed. “Grandma isn’t your future, and you will meet someone even more important than me. You have to walk a very, very long road with that person, and live a happy, blissful and long life, just like how it is in the dramas.”

Books always said that young people would easily give in to their impulses. Between love and reality, they would usually choose love. After maturing, they would always regret it. Many years later, when Ji Qinyang was about to turn forty, having experienced the ups and downs of life and his career and finally reaching success, someone too asked him a question about this.

“I don’t think so.” Despite the years leaving their marks on his face, Ji Qinyang’s facial features were still exquisite and dazzling. He rested his chin on his hand, looking at the reporter who asked the question. The lady blushed. Flustered, she looked down at her list of questions.

“Hmm… So in other words, you would tend to choose love?”

Ji Qinyang raised his brow. “It’s not that I’d tend to choose love, but that I will still choose love.”

“You don’t regret it?” The reporter asked.

“Why will I regret it?” Ji Qinyang smiled. He turned to face the audience, and the camera took a very clear shot of the simple silver ear stud in his left earlobe.

“I’ve lost everything before,” Ji Qinyang said slowly. “But I had always had love.”

However, when he was only sixteen or seventeen, just like how the books were, Ji Qinyang was impulsive.

Wearing his headphones, the teenager was lying on the stone bank of the river. The water flowed under the bridge, and the evening wind blew against his heated, burning chest.