Chapter Fifteen: Hosting a Dinner and Encountering a Familiar Face Again

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“Save up for a car!”

Cheng Kaiyan pedaled through the alleys with his aunt Jiang Ting seated on the back. Potholes and muddy puddles were scattered across the road, and the wheels sank into them from time to time, sending muddy water splashing with every turn.

He therefore rode with great care, afraid that he might send Jiang Ting tumbling off.

Beijing’s roads were developing rapidly. Some streets had already been paved with asphalt, but concrete and dirt roads still made up most of the city. In the alleys and lanes, one counted oneself lucky to find a stretch paved with bluestone. Once the rain or snow came, the roads became so badly churned that no one wanted to leave home. Beyond the Third Ring Road, in particular, most roads were little more than mud.

Jiang Ting currently lived in a tube-shaped apartment building near Ditan Park. She was now moving into the teachers’ dormitory at Beijing Normal University, having apparently been assigned a two-bedroom apartment with a living room.

After nearly half an hour of cycling, they finally arrived.

Several east-west-oriented Khrushchev-era apartment blocks stood before them, with a sign at the entrance identifying the compound as the family quarters of some government bureau.

They climbed to the third floor and opened the door. Inside was a modest three-bedroom apartment with a living room.

Jiang Ting entered silently, with Cheng Kaiyan following behind.

In the bedroom, a colorful wedding photograph stood on the bedside table. It showed a newlywed couple—the groom in a suit, the bride in a pristine white wedding dress—with Tiananmen Gate behind them.

The bride was naturally Jiang Ting herself.

She was a woman with quite a story to tell…

Cheng Kaiyan studied the photograph for a moment, thinking to himself.

Just then, Jiang Ting carried several large cardboard boxes over to him.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. But these won’t be easy to move, will they? If you’re taking them by bicycle, you’ll have to put them in bags. Boxes are only practical if you have a car.”

Cheng Kaiyan pondered for a moment before speaking. In his previous life, he had moved countless times because of rental apartments, and had acquired quite a bit of experience.

“It is a car.”

“Hm? Oh…”

They spent more than ten minutes carrying over a dozen boxes downstairs. After checking carefully to make sure nothing had been left behind, they locked the door and headed down.

They had only waited a short while when, sure enough, a military-green jeep pulled up in front of the building. The driver, a guard, asked, “Madam, have you finished checking everything?”

Madam?

Cheng Kaiyan raised an eyebrow.

Good heavens. Had Aunt Jiang married into a powerful second-generation family?

She was called Madam, and she had a jeep at her disposal… No wonder she had never considered him worthy of becoming her nephew-in-law!

But if your marriage was that impressive, was it really appropriate to have me come along as free labor?

Cheng Kaiyan was speechless. He suddenly remembered a short video from his previous life in which a woman with a boyfriend still asked a devoted admirer to help her move, claiming that she was afraid her boyfriend would get tired.

Honestly, I could cry.

…

Things went much faster after that. Although Beijing Normal University lay in the northwest of the city, more than ten kilometers away, that distance was nothing to a car. They reached the university in ten minutes.

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There was another round of carrying things up and down. By the time they finished, it was already five in the afternoon, and the rain outside had stopped.

Cheng Kaiyan had spent the entire afternoon doing manual labor. Exhausted, he lay motionless on the wooden sofa, while Jiang Ting swept the apartment.

“Whew…”

Still leaning against the dining table with both hands around the broom, Jiang Ting was visibly worn out as well. Fine beads of sweat covered her fair, pretty face.

She went into the room and returned with two towels. She used one to wipe her own sweat and tossed the other to Cheng Kaiyan.

“Thank you for your hard work, Kaiyan. You really went to a lot of trouble for me today. If you hadn’t been here, I doubt I could have finished before nightfall.”

At that, Jiang Ting could not help laughing. Her gaze softened considerably as she looked at him.

“It was nothing. We’re family, after all. Even if Xiaoli and I don’t end up together, my mother and you are sisters.”

Cheng Kaiyan grinned as though it were nothing, then changed the subject.

“Auntie, you’re treating me to dinner tonight, right?”

Jiang Ting burst out laughing. She cast him a charming, coquettish glance.

“Don’t worry. Even an emperor wouldn’t let one of his soldiers go hungry. Since I brought you out, how could I possibly leave you starving? I’ll take you to a restaurant.”

…

The state-run restaurant.

It was after five, and closing time was approaching.

The waitresses sat in their chairs, yawning listlessly as they waited for the end of their shift.

In the kitchen, the head chef had already turned off the stove and was muttering, “No customers, please. No customers…”

Just then, a man and a woman entered through the door. The woman wore a gray wool coat with a red scarf tied around her collar. The man looked rather youthful, though his bearing was mature, and he wore a Type 65 military greatcoat.

“Professor Jiang, here for dinner?”

The waitress was a young woman in her twenties. She had been about to say that they were nearly closed, but when she saw Jiang Ting, she smiled and greeted her instead.

Jiang Ting nodded. She taught at Beijing Normal University and was a regular here.

She led Cheng Kaiyan to a table by the window, picked up the menu, and said, “Young man, bring us a serving of braised pork, eggplant with dried shrimp, and some soy-braised beef.”

“All meat dishes? You’re really going all out, Auntie Jiang!”

Cheng Kaiyan nodded in satisfaction. His hard work that afternoon had not been in vain.

At a state-run restaurant, one ordered first, then paid with money and ration coupons, and finally collected the dishes oneself when they were ready.

In fact, 1980 was only a little more than ten days away, and before long people would be able to eat at state-run restaurants without coupons. Using coupons, however, would still make the meal cheaper.

As an associate professor at Beijing Normal University, Jiang Ting had plenty of coupons. She was in no danger of running short.

After a while, the dishes arrived.

The fragrance of the soy-braised beef was irresistible, while the glistening braised pork looked mouthwateringly delicious.

Cheng Kaiyan picked up a piece of braised pork and put it into his mouth. The piping-hot, meltingly tender meat released a rich, savory burst of juice. It barely needed chewing; with the slightest press of his tongue, it dissolved at once and slid into his stomach.

Once they had eaten and drunk their fill, they had polished off more than two plates of the three dishes.

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There was still some food left. Seeing this, Jiang Ting borrowed a food container from the restaurant and packed it up to take home. As a regular customer, she had that much influence.

She handed the container to Cheng Kaiyan.

“Yuxiu probably hasn’t eaten yet. Take this home for her later.”

“Okay.”

Cheng Kaiyan escorted Jiang Ting back to her dormitory. Before he left, she returned his bicycle and gave him a flashlight as well.

The north wind howled, whipping the brim of his cap back and forth.

Cheng Kaiyan had become fairly familiar with Beijing’s map over the past few days, so he was unlikely to get lost. As he rounded a corner, he suddenly spotted two familiar figures.

“Skrrt—”

He slammed on the brakes and rang the bicycle bell.

“Ring-ring! Ring-ring!”

The sound made pedestrians on the street stop and turn. The two figures did the same.

“Sister Shang Cui? Niu Niu? What are you doing here?”

Cheng Kaiyan rode over to them, astonishment in his voice.

Shang Cui’s hair hung loose around her shoulders, and her face was deathly pale. She wore a patched padded jacket and wandered the street with a two- or three-year-old girl wrapped in a bedsheet against her chest.

At the sound of that familiar voice, she suddenly looked up.

It was the young comrade Cheng Kaiyan—the very one who had once shared a meal with her on the train.

In a strange city where she knew no one, Shang Cui burst into tears upon seeing someone familiar. Choking back a sob, she cried, “Comrade Cheng!”

…

In a room of less than ten square meters in Beitaipingzhuang, Shang Cui sat woodenly on the bed.

Her face was gaunt from hunger, and she was painfully embarrassed to be seen in such a state by someone she knew.

The little girl in her arms slept soundly, murmuring in her dreams about how hungry she was. The words broke her mother’s heart.

After arriving in Beijing a few days earlier, Shang Cui had resolved that she would not return home until she found her husband.

Before she left, her elderly parents had given her half of the money they had painstakingly saved by scratching a living from the soil. Now, after paying for food and lodging, the dozen or so yuan she had brought with her was almost gone.

Shang Cui had hoped to find odd jobs in Beijing, but no one was willing to hire a person whose identity could not be verified.

In the end, it was the proprietress of a small, secretly operated private restaurant near a school who took pity on her. From time to time, she let Shang Cui wash dishes in exchange for a little food.

Even so, life remained unbearably difficult, and she often went hungry.

A short while later, the door opened, and Cheng Kaiyan entered carrying two baskets of steaming buns he had just bought.

“Eat. Come on, eat.”

At those words, Shang Cui’s tears began to flow once more.

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