Chapter Seven: Zhao Ruixue's Counsel

At half past five, Zhao Ruixue slung a satchel over her waist, a book in hand, and walked out of the classroom with a light, brisk step.

“Going home today, Ruixue?” Ji Qinglan came up from the side and asked.

“Yes. I didn’t go back last week, so I’m heading home this week to rest properly.”

Zhao Ruixue answered with a smile.

The two of them gathered their things and headed back to the dormitory together. On the way, the campus was crowded with people, and because it was a holiday, the students were all animatedly sharing the joy of their break.

Some said they would spend the whole weekend in the library; some had made plans with friends to go to a friendship dance and disco; others were going sightseeing and hiking in the outskirts of the capital.

Along the tree-lined paths of the beautiful campus, Zhao Ruixue and Ji Qinglan walked side by side.

“It’s so nice to study locally. I really envy you—you can still go home and stay there for two days every week. We don’t have that kind of blessing, alas.”

Knowing Zhao Ruixue was going home, Ji Qinglan spoke with no small amount of envy.

Most university students nowadays came from all over the country, from villages and townships as well as cities, and their ages ranged from twenty to thirty.

Ji Qinglan herself came from Xinyang, Henan, from a small township family.

After entering university, going home was practically a once-a-year affair.

They could only rely on letters exchanged every two or three months, with her parents sending living expenses and news of household matters along with them.

After all, mailing letters too often was expensive, and so was the cost of living.

Among Zhao Ruixue’s dormmates, she alone was a local from the capital, and so her life was much more relaxed.

Hearing Ji Qinglan’s words, Zhao Ruixue naturally understood that her friend was feeling homesick, and she comforted her softly. “There’s nothing to be done about it. Next month will be better—when winter break comes, you’ll be able to go home.”

“That’s true!”

Mentioning winter break eased Ji Qinglan’s gloom considerably. She looked up at Zhao Ruixue and said in surprise, “Oh... did you buy a scarf?”

The bright red scarf was a fashion item these days. Especially now that winter had arrived, a red scarf was both beautiful and warm, and many girls liked them.

But they were rather expensive, so only girls from better-off families would choose to buy one.

“How is it? Does it look good?”

Zhao Ruixue pursed her lips, stopped, and turned in a circle on the spot. The vivid red scarf fanned out with her dark hair as she spun, like a ballerina in motion.

Ji Qinglan looked her up and down. Today Zhao Ruixue wore a black, deep-collared wool sweater under a military coat, not much different from usual, only with a red scarf at her neck.

She had a lovely oval face, slightly rounder on top, with a full brow and bright, painterly eyes, tapering slightly below into a delicate, melon-seed shape. A fine widow’s peak and her wheat-colored skin gave her an unnameable air of spirited vigor.

“Very pretty, though it would be even better if your skin were a little fairer.”

Ji Qinglan stroked her chin and offered her verdict.

“I got so dark from working when I went down to the countryside as an educated youth. This is fine too; if I were any fairer, those boys would just be even more annoying.”

Zhao Ruixue nodded, then said a little vexedly.

Ji Qinglan could not help laughing. “Isn’t it just a few more love letters? What’s there to fear? It’s enough that you’re beautiful yourself. Though those boys really are annoying. Last time one of them even came looking for me, wanting me to deliver a love letter for him, and it was written all over the place.

Hey... this scarf wasn’t a gift from Song Jianchun, was it? Was it?”

As she said this, an ambiguous little smile crept onto Ji Qinglan’s face.

Perhaps no matter the era, gossip was always what attracted girls most.

Zhao Ruixue was somewhat well-known at the school. First, her grades were excellent, often ranking first or second in her department. Second, she was good-looking and drew the attention of many boys.

Song Jianchun knew Zhao Ruixue. He was refined and cultured, with considerable learning.

He was the great talent of the Department of Literature, had previously published some pieces in the school journal, and could even write a hand of hazy, modernist verse.

The poem went like this:

Within the gauze of night,
Moonlight falls upon your smile,
The stars whisper in the breeze,
And love follows like a shadow, as if in a dream.

The deep pool in your eyes
Hides boundless tenderness.
With every glance exchanged,
It seems we cross a thousand years of time...

It was written fairly well. The boys and girls in school who loved literature were astonished by it, and the girls at the normal university all called him a great talent.

It was said that this poem had been written for Zhao Ruixue. No one dared say for certain, but that was what everyone privately believed.

“Of course not. I bought it myself.”

Zhao Ruixue shook her head lightly. She had bought it on the street herself yesterday.

After the two returned to the dormitory and packed up their things, Zhao Ruixue took a car home.

Half an hour later, she finally arrived back at Shaowei Alley.

No one knew what sort of feelings she carried in her heart, or with what kind of steps she walked.

Though there were no lingering emotions left in her heart, meeting the person she had once liked again still left Zhao Ruixue feeling somewhat complicated.

“The college student is back?”

“Yes, Aunt Wang.”

Zhao Ruixue greeted her with a smile, then went back into her own home.

As soon as she entered, she put her things down and was just about to go out to look for Cheng Kaiyan when she abruptly stopped in her tracks.

...

That night, the courtyard house grew lively.

In Cheng Kaiyan’s room, a young man in dark blue work clothes sat half on the desk with his plump backside taking up much of it. Wang Nanhua chuckled and said, “So you finally came back. We haven’t seen each other for four or five years, have we?”

“Yeah.”

“How have you been these past few years? Being in the army must have been much harder than going down to the countryside, but at least you should’ve had enough to eat. I remember when I went down to the countryside, I couldn’t eat my fill every day, and I lost dozens of pounds from hunger. Good thing I came back early.”

Wang Nanhua sighed a little.

“Not bad, I guess. Though even the cultural troupe has to train... But you don’t seem to have changed much, do you?”

Cheng Kaiyan lowered his gaze to that fat man’s layer of flab and said speechlessly.

“What, I didn’t gain it all back after coming home for two years?” Wang Fatty rubbed his mouth awkwardly. “By the way, Zhao Ruixue came back on holiday too. She hasn’t come looking for you?”

“No.”

“Tsk, tsk. Right, people don’t even look at others straight once they get into university, hehe. What kind of person is that!” Wang Nanhua clicked his tongue, then told Cheng Kaiyan about how, earlier, when he had greeted her, she had ignored him.

“Maybe she’s just busy with university.”

Cheng Kaiyan waved a hand. Zhao Ruixue seemed to be the one person in the courtyard he was a little closer to.

“Maybe. Forget her. What are you planning to do? My mom says you were fooling around with men and women in the army, and the leaders didn’t assign you any job.”

Wang Fatty asked with open curiosity.

“You... and you believe that?”

For a moment Cheng Kaiyan was at a loss for words. Brother...

Are you really going to throw a punch right to my face like that?

And you even supplied the rumor mill, right down to the person spreading it behind the scenes.

“Ahem, hehe, sorry about that. My mother’s just that kind of person.” Wang Nanhua laughed embarrassedly, looking a little sheepish.

“Go to university, I guess.”

“University? When I first came back to the city, I thought about going to university too. In the end I stayed home for half a year and didn’t produce a damn thing. I took the college entrance exam and got sixty-six points. I said that was a good sign—double sixes, everything goes smoothly. My mother was furious! She nearly broke my leg. Only later did things improve a bit after my father took early retirement and I took over his job.”

Wang Nanhua winked at Cheng Kaiyan, talking like beans pouring from a sack, rattling off his own black history without pause—blunt and simple to the core.

Brother, you’ve blocked every route!

Cheng Kaiyan thought it through and suddenly understood why his mother did not seem to believe too much in taking the university entrance exam. So there had been a precedent in the courtyard all along!

At this day and age, staying at home to prepare for university was a bit like later generations’ young people hiding away at home to prepare for graduate school or civil service exams, too afraid to look for work.

Pure nonsense. Pure excuse.

After chatting for a while, the two of them went back to their own homes for dinner.

By seven in the evening, night had fallen.

Cheng Kaiyan put on his military coat and sat down at the desk. His pen moved without pause, and lines of text flowed from the tip:

“At fourteen, I decided to begin cultivating an ocean-floor fantasy. On the back of my class notes, I drew a detailed blueprint and designed a submarine. The material was to be the strongest alloy, the engine a perpetual-motion machine, and the entire vessel was shaped like an olive...

The interior of the submarine was exactly like the second floor of my house... My idea was this: by day, this floor would be just this floor. By night, the moment I pressed the button on the desk, the entire interior space of the floor would shift into a submarine and travel through the sea.

My mother slept quietly in the next room, oblivious to everything. Outside the window it was dark and dim, and she could not tell whether it was night or the sea...”

...

Outside the window it was dark and dim; whether it was night or the sea, no one could tell.

The north wind still howled, making the plastic greenhouse in the courtyard rustle and clatter. It was already almost nine o’clock.

“After dragging this out for days at a time, I’ve finally finished writing it.”

Cheng Kaiyan set down his pen, rubbed his aching waist, and picked up the enamel mug to gulp down a mouthful.

The tea was icy cold.

But no matter how cold it was, it could not cool the heart that longed for a better life, a blazing red Chinese heart, hot and fervent!

Payment for the manuscript—come to me quickly!

At that moment—

Creak.

The old, rusted iron hinges on the door gave off a grating screech. In came a short-haired girl wearing a cotton coat and a red scarf, tall and slim, about one point seven meters in height.

“Zhao Ruixue? It’s so late and you’re still not asleep. Is something the matter?”

Cheng Kaiyan asked in surprise. Just now, after hearing Wang Fatty say that this girl had become rather aloof after getting into university, he had not expected her to come looking for him on her own.

Zhao Ruixue studied the man before her, the one she had once liked so much, and suddenly felt a little disappointed.

That familiar high bridge of the nose, those bright eyes, sitting in a military coat on a chair—he looked so ordinary. Or rather, he had always been ordinary; it was only her former self that had gilded him with a layer of gold.

She gathered her thoughts and said with a smile, “I heard you’d come back to the city, so I came by to see you. Don’t read too much into it.”

“Thanks for coming to see me. Why are you standing there? There aren’t any spare stools, so sit on my bed.”

Cheng Kaiyan said casually.

“No need. I just came to have a look. I suddenly realized you’ve changed so much.”

Zhao Ruixue declined politely. Perhaps aware that her tone sounded a little distant, she quickly adjusted and asked, “I heard you’re planning to take the university entrance exam?”

“My mother told you that?”

Cheng Kaiyan stood up and gave Zhao Ruixue his seat. This time the girl did not refuse and sat down directly.

“Mm. Have you decided which university you’ll take?”

Zhao Ruixue asked with a smile, placing her hand on the desk and looking at Cheng Kaiyan.

“Peking University, maybe. It only has one fewer character than your normal university.”

Cheng Kaiyan said in a teasing tone.

“Pfft. Then I wish you good luck.”

Zhao Ruixue was amused and laughed out loud, though inwardly she only shook her head.

Just how difficult was it to get into university? She knew that much.

When Zhao Ruixue was in the countryside, she was often still studying. She did not think that Cheng Kaiyan, after spending four or five years in the army cultural troupe in idleness, could simply pick up his studies again and immediately pass the exam.

That was not realistic, and it was not scientific.

“Still, it’s best to prepare for the exam and look for work at the same time. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket,” Zhao Ruixue advised.

“Of course.”

Cheng Kaiyan glanced at the white manuscript paper beneath the radio on the desk.

His look was rather obvious. Zhao Ruixue noticed it, lowered her head, and glanced sideways at it: The Submarine at Night.

???

Cheng Kaiyan was writing something?

A novel or an essay?

Zhao Ruixue was instantly stirred by curiosity, itching as though a cat were scratching at her heart.

Just as Zhao Ruixue was struggling inwardly, Cheng Kaiyan remembered the matter of his study notes and asked, “Ruixue, could you lend me the notes you used when you were preparing for the exam?”

“What?” Zhao Ruixue had been focused on the manuscript paper and did not catch it at first. Hearing Cheng Kaiyan’s puzzled voice, she hurriedly said, “The notes you used to prepare for the exam? Can I borrow them?”

“Oh... that? I’ll bring them to you tomorrow...”

Zhao Ruixue answered absentmindedly. Suddenly she noticed that there seemed to be a human figure crouching outside the window. Her scalp went numb. Without even making out who it was, she sprang to her feet at once. “Haha, it’s getting late, so I should head back first.”

With that, the girl shut the door with a bang and hurried off.