Ninety: Goodbye Chu Chu

Not long after returning home, the Olympics began.

On the night of August 10th, the Chinese men’s basketball team was set to face the Dream Team Eight, composed entirely of NBA All-Stars. Though the outcome was a foregone conclusion, for us fans, it was a must-watch event, if only for the sake of seeing so many basketball superstars.

Haozi invited me over to his place to watch the game and catch up.

It had been a long time since we last met, and I almost didn’t recognize Haozi at first glance. No wonder—he’d already graduated and was busy job hunting. One inevitably changes after leaving the ivory tower.

When I entered the living room, as usual, Haozi’s parents weren’t around. Glancing at the television, I saw Sun Zhengping and Zhang Weiping already animatedly discussing the upcoming game in the studio. Listening to them analyze, point by point, the keys to a Chinese victory in a match without suspense, I couldn’t tell whether I was too pessimistic or they were too optimistic.

Haozi went to the kitchen to get drinks, and I casually found a spot on the sofa. I didn’t harbor any real hope for the outcome; I was just there for the excitement. As we drank, Haozi began sharing his many frustrations with job hunting, and a strange sense of gloom settled over the living room. Looking at the bitterness on Haozi’s face, I couldn’t help but feel a faint anxiety about my own future.

Drowning our sorrows in drink, of course, only made them worse, and we soon lost count of how much we had. We ended up mostly talking, barely paying attention to the game, and apparently China lost by more than thirty points in the end. When I stood up from the sofa, I was so drunk I could barely walk. I called home and told my mother I wouldn’t be back that night.

After showering, I found Haozi already asleep, sprawled across the whole bed. It took all my strength to push him aside—a scene that felt oddly familiar.

Was it Lele? Maybe it was the alcohol, but suddenly that long-buried sadness flooded my heart again.

Haozi slept like a log, snoring thunderously. As far as I remembered, he never used to snore...

I slept straight through to noon the next day. As soon as I got home, my phone rang—surprisingly, it was Chuchu. She invited me out to dinner that evening, and I agreed without hesitation.

It seemed that since graduating high school, I’d barely kept in touch with Chuchu. Aside from a chance encounter in an internet café during the first winter break of college, we hadn’t seen each other for nearly two and a half years. Yet, deep down, I knew my feelings for her had never really changed.

At six that evening, I arrived at the Xinhua Capital Mall downtown, where Chuchu said she was working.

A light rain was falling, and from a distance I spotted her in a green outfit, promoting Unified Green Tea at the mall entrance. She was crouched down, packing up her things, apparently getting ready to leave.

I closed my umbrella and quietly approached, stopping behind her. I didn’t call out, just stood there gazing at that familiar silhouette, memories of watching her from a desk at a forty-five-degree angle flooding back.

“Oh, Beizi Pig, you’re here!” She spotted me as she stood up, her face lighting up with excitement. “What’s up with you, sneaking up like that! Are you shy to see your big sister?”

“Yeah.” I kept my head down, unable to meet her eyes. After such a long separation, this meeting felt strangely awkward.

“What? Are you embarrassed by my outfit?” My odd expression clearly puzzled her.

“Ah! No... not at all...” I stammered, finally lifting my head. “You’ve gotten prettier, that’s all—I’m shy to look at you.”

“Pfft, liar!” Chuchu glared at me playfully, pretending to raise a fist. “Alright, enough messing around! Help me carry my bag, I’m going to change.”

Without waiting for my reply, she tossed her shoulder bag at me, bent down to retrieve a bag of clothes from a pile of clutter, flashed me a smile, and dashed inside the mall.

I waited for a good half hour before she finally returned.

She stuffed her work clothes under the stall, said goodbye to her co-workers, then strolled over to me and, with a natural familiarity, slipped her arm through mine. Grinning, she said, “Let’s go eat.”

We wandered the streets for quite a while before stopping in front of a nicely decorated restaurant.

“My boyfriend’s inside, having dinner with friends!” Chuchu pointed at the restaurant window, a look of happiness on her face. “I’ll introduce you later!”

“Uh, didn’t I meet him at the internet café last time?” I forced down the awkwardness in my heart and replied quietly.

“Oh? Really? I don’t even remember.” She glanced at me, then let go of my arm, and we walked into the restaurant one after the other.

We chose a table near the back and sat facing each other. While we were ordering, her boyfriend came over from the next table, casually draped his arm around her shoulders, whispered something in her ear, then looked up and greeted me with a smile, “Hi, nice to meet you!”

I nodded stiffly in response, catching a surprised look from the nearby waitress. I guessed that before her boyfriend came over, she probably thought Chuchu and I were a couple.

After the greeting, her boyfriend chatted with Chuchu a while longer before reluctantly returning to his own table.

“His name’s Zheng Long. We’ve been together three years—you’d never have guessed, would you?” Chuchu said proudly, tearing open a set of utensils.

Soon the food arrived. Naturally, Chuchu took my empty bowl and ladled it full of soup for me, acting like an older sister. I watched her, helpless, then took the bowl and forced a smile. She proceeded to pile chunks of beef into my bowl...

After dinner, we walked together along an empty path—she on the left, I on the right. Under the dim glow of the street lamps, memories of old times washed over me.

“Li Xiaobei, are you a pig? No gentlemanly manners at all! What guy lets a girl walk on the outside of the street?” Chuchu shot me a murderous glare that made my skin crawl.

I had no choice but to stop, circle around, and walk on her left.

“By the way, I forgot to ask—where’s your girlfriend?” Chuchu’s face was full of curiosity.

“She… she’s gone…” I replied lightly.

“Then just find another one!” Chuchu beamed at me. I guessed she misunderstood my meaning of “gone,” but I didn’t feel like explaining. Even if I did, what would it change? I’d heard enough comforting words already.

“Whatever.” I shrugged, pretending not to care.

“Hey, Beizi Pig!” she suddenly adopted the tone of an adult lecturing a child. “Let me tell you, you always say ‘whatever.’ Girls think that means you have no opinions! Damn it, my boyfriend’s just like that—always ‘whatever, whatever,’ makes me feel like I’m dating myself…”

“He’s just being nice to you, respecting you,” I couldn’t help defending Zheng Long—and, in a way, myself.

“Respect my ass! Oh, and another thing—you’re too easygoing. I bet you never argue with your girlfriend, right?” When I didn’t deny it, Chuchu continued, “Sure, at first a girl might think that’s great, but after a while, she’ll think you don’t care. Get it?” She chattered on, oblivious to my changing expression.

Chuchu, is this how you’ve always seen me? I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

The bus stop wasn’t far from the restaurant; after only a short conversation, we arrived. There were just three or four oddly dressed guys waiting there. Chuchu glanced at them nervously, edged behind me, and whispered in my ear, “Those guys really look like hooligans…”

I gave her a reassuring smile and patted my chest. “Don’t worry, you’ve got me.” Though I knew my limits, I said it for comfort’s sake...

Six years ago, I met a girl. She seemed ladylike, but in truth, she was always laughing and joking like a wild child. She often left me forgotten in some corner, only remembering me when she was bored. She bullied me endlessly—drawing turtles on my arm, making me carry her textbooks.

Yet that was the happiest year of my life. We took remedial classes together, skipped class to go online, and I’d give her rides home. I was so nervous helping her pierce her ears that my face turned red, and I was moved to tears when she gave me a birthday present.

Gradually, she became ever more important to me. I kept thinking, if one day I was gone, who would take care of her? She was so reckless—she’d surely be tricked by someone someday.

But it was all just an excuse. She was better at looking after herself than I was. I was the one who couldn’t let go.

I wish I’d never met her, rather than end up like this—watching her one day walk down the aisle in a wedding dress to become someone else’s bride...

Staring after the departing bus, I fell into deep reflection.

(Chapter revision completed October 17, 2010)