Chapter 50: Savoring Jealousy

Under the warm light of the kitchen, Granny Li deftly tidied up the dishes. Every so often, she glanced back at Han the blacksmith, who was nearby, presenting gifts to her granddaughter, her brows and eyes brimming with laughter.

Before leaving that morning, Li Jixiang had urged Granny Li to buy whatever she liked and not to worry about the expense. Yet Granny Li only bought two bright red quilt covers and a piece of curtain fabric, without getting a single thing for herself.

“Your granny and I don’t really understand fashion; all these clothes were chosen by the shop assistants,” Han explained.

Granny Li was frugal with her own money, but when it came to buying things for her granddaughter, she didn’t hesitate at all.

“My Jixiang looks beautiful in anything. She’s about to start middle school—she’s a big girl now…” Granny Li’s eyes grew moist as she spoke.

Through the years, relying on each other, Granny Li always saved the best food for her granddaughter. Now, faced with the prospect of Jixiang soon leaving home and soaring far away, a sudden melancholy and bitterness welled up in her heart—a feeling Han the blacksmith could never fill.

At seven o’clock, Han turned off the signboard light at the entrance of the little shop, still reluctant to leave. Though he owned the An Family Tofu Shop, he lived in a small lean-to outside their house, always feeling somewhat like a guest. He hoped to settle matters quickly with Granny Li, so he took the calendar from the shop and sat with her at the kitchen table, discussing their wedding date.

Watching the two elders huddle over the calendar, examining the auspicious days, Li Jixiang suddenly felt like a third wheel. She quietly slipped out of the shop, half-lowered the rolling door, and gazed at the dimly lit main street—feeling as if she had nowhere to go.

That morning, An Chen had told her he and An Ning would be staying at their grandmother’s house for a while, and he wanted Li Jixiang to go with them. At eight years old, An Chen always wanted his beloved big sister with him wherever he went, and Jixiang could only laugh and cry at his insistence. After much coaxing, An Chen finally followed An Ning, who had come to fetch him, albeit reluctantly.

As they walked toward the station, An Chen kept looking back at Li Jixiang every few steps, and An Ning’s expression was forlorn, as if they were parting forever. An Chen’s mother had many sisters, each married out of Xingqiu Town, and their lives were flourishing, one better than the next.

Their grandmother rotated between her daughters’ homes, but stubbornly refused to stay at An Chen’s mother’s house in Xingqiu Town, still nursing a grudge against her daughter’s mother-in-law for old insults. Yet she adored her two eldest grandsons, An Chen and An Ning, inviting them to stay every summer.

Tomorrow, there would be two fewer lively souls in the town. If they were gone for a month, that would mean a loss of six thousand in popularity points!

Best not to think about it—just the thought made her heart ache!

The days of summer stretched long, and the shops along the street stayed open later. Li Jixiang wandered as she walked, sampling unfamiliar street foods—corn grits with assorted sauces, Korean cold noodles, sticky rice cakes… By the time she reached the town government building, she was so full she could barely move.

She bought an old-fashioned popsicle and leaned against a roadside tree, licking it to cool off and settle her stomach.

Unconsciously, it was nearly nine o’clock. Han the blacksmith should have left the shop by now. She turned to head back.

The little shops along the street had all closed, and few people were about. In this quiet, backward place, people were used to early nights and early mornings.

From the second floor of a shop came the sounds of swordplay and fighting from a television show. She paused, recognizing it as a martial arts drama from the eighties, likely a Hong Kong film. Her mother had always been obsessed with Chu Liuxiang, a die-hard fan of the dashing hero, sometimes even dressing up to sneak onto film sets, getting as excited as a schoolgirl when she saw her idol.

How could her mother, at her age, still be such a hopeless fangirl? It was all her father’s fault for pampering her so much…

Ding-a-ling-a-ling…

A string of bicycle bells rang out behind her, prompting her to instinctively move closer to the edge of the street. She was already hugging the inner side; any closer and she’d be pressed against the shop doors.

A bicycle glided slowly past the street.

The street was empty, yet the rider was frantically ringing the bell while moving so slowly. Was there something wrong with his head?

She glared fiercely at the cyclist.

Chen Yu!

Ma Hongmei…

Ma Hongmei sat on the back seat of Chen Yu’s bicycle, head bowed and body turned to the side, arms wrapped around his waist. Her face wasn’t visible, but it was certain she was blushing—a red deeper than her dress.

Riding slow with a passenger required more skill than riding fast. Just as the bicycle was about to lose balance, Chen Yu steadied the handlebars, pedaled hard, and sped down a gentle slope, the bike racing away.

Chen Yu and Ma Hongmei vanished from Li Jixiang’s sight.

Ma Hongmei had a new dress!

Knowing Ma Hongmei as she did, Li Jixiang knew she didn’t have money for new clothes; she always wore cast-offs from her cousins.

Was Ma Hongmei’s new dress a gift from Chen Yu? He did love giving gifts.

She couldn’t remember how she managed to walk home, but the road seemed unusually long. Her mind felt empty, yet her head was full and heavy, weighed down by something she couldn’t name.

When she woke up the next day, it was already noon.

“You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you. Hurry and eat—Han and I, and Han’s grandfather, have already eaten. I’ve kept your food warm in the pot!”

“I’m not hungry.”

Her mind, which had been stuffed full last night, now felt empty, but her heart was clogged, as if something was stuck inside.

She hadn’t slept well at all, tossing and turning for ages until dawn, when she finally drifted off.

She glanced at the wildflowers in the water bottle; each bloom drooped, as lifeless as she felt. She wanted to crawl back into bed, but then heard Ma Hongmei’s voice outside.

“Jixiang, Jixiang!”

Ma Hongmei’s smiling face bloomed like a flower, and Li Jixiang felt a sudden urge to pinch it.

“Here to pick up rice again today?”

“Ah, no. I came to tell you something.”

Ma Hongmei was bubbling with excitement, shy and hesitant. Granny Li, seeing this, smiled and went back to the shop, leaving the two girls to their whispered conversation.

“Go on,” Jixiang said, maintaining her lady-like composure as she sat upright at the table.

“Last night, Chen Yu and I watched a movie, then he took me home, and tonight he’s invited me to take a walk in the little grove at the farm,” Ma Hongmei whispered secretly in Jixiang’s ear.

“Pfft!”

The warm breath Ma Hongmei blew into Jixiang’s ear made it itch unbearably. Jixiang pushed her away, rubbing her ear as she snapped:

“Why are you telling me this? If he asks you for a walk, then go—boring!”

“Oh, I thought you’d want to know…”

“I don’t. I’m going for a nap now, not seeing you out.”

She said she didn’t care, but her heart felt sour. No matter how she looked at Ma Hongmei, she felt annoyed and wanted her gone as soon as possible.

Ma Hongmei didn’t seem to notice Jixiang’s irritation. She spun in place, holding her red dress, the wide skirt blooming like a huge red flower.

“Do you like this dress? I bought it especially at the shop yesterday.”

…

Last night, seeing Ma Hongmei in the red dress, she’d guessed Chen Yu’s taste was mediocre. Now, it seemed Ma Hongmei’s pursuit of beauty could only make one sigh.