34 Still waters run deep
Zhuang Jia was in the company's conference room when he received Yi Yi's WeChat message.
The annual budget report was projected on the screen, the dense numbers crawling like ants. The boss's voice came from the end of the long table, with an undeniable decisiveness: "...Therefore, each business unit must reduce costs by another 15% next year. Lao Zhuang, give me your department's personnel optimization plan by Friday."
The conference room was deathly silent. Several department heads stared at their laptops, no one speaking. Zhuang Jia felt a sharp pain in her stomach, as if someone had squeezed it tightly.
He wanted to reply, his finger hovering over the screen, but in the end he just turned the phone face down.
The meeting dragged on for another forty minutes before it ended. On his way back to his workstation, Zhuang Jia was approached by Xiao Wang from the finance department, who whispered, "Brother Zhuang, I heard that Old Li from the marketing department is laying off two people..."
"Don't spread rumors about things you're not sure about," Zhuang Jia interrupted him, her tone a bit sharp.
Xiao Wang walked away sheepishly. Zhuang Jia sat down in his chair, staring blankly at the computer screen. He was thirty-seven years old, had been at this company for eight years, and was stuck in the middle. His subordinate, five years younger than him, had jumped ship to a rival company last year and was now half a level above him. He had considered moving, but the mortgage, car loan, his child's tuition, his parents' medical expenses… each one felt like a chain, pinning him to this familiar office chair.
He opened a job search website and refreshed his resume. His recent browsing history showed that several small and medium-sized companies had viewed his information, but nothing came of it. Age, salary expectations, current position… everything had become an awkward bargaining chip.
My phone vibrated again. This time it was Wu Si, his buddy who was still worrying about having children.
"Let's go out for a drink? I'm feeling down."
Zhuang Jia glanced at the time; it was 8:30 PM. He replied, "Busy, another day."
He wasn't actually busy. He just didn't want to hear Wu Si complain about his wife, the hospital, and the unfairness of fate. That negativity was like a tidal wave, and he felt like he was being overwhelmed.
He replied to Yi Yi with a WeChat message: "Okay. I'll probably have to work overtime this week, let's talk on the weekend."
After sending it, I felt it was too abrupt, so I added, "Don't be discouraged during your interview, take your time."
Yi Yi didn't reply immediately. Zhuang Jia stared at the chat box until the screen automatically went dark.
He Miao picked Gun Gun up from school and took him home. The mother and son didn't speak to each other the whole way.
Gun Gun's eyes were still red, and he had almost broken the strap of his backpack. He Miao looked at him in the rearview mirror; the anger in her heart had long since dissipated, leaving only a tangled mess of pain.
When I got home, He Tian was already back, sitting at the dining table in front of his laptop. Hearing me, he looked up, adjusted his glasses, and asked, "You're back?"
He Miao threw her bag on the sofa, her voice hoarse: "Your son got into a fight."
He Tian closed his laptop and looked at Gun Gun: "What happened?"
Gun Gun burst into tears, recounting what had happened at school in fits and starts. He Tian listened quietly, his face expressionless, only asking after his son had calmed down, "That classmate said Dad only plays video games, and you got angry, so you pushed him?"
Gun Gun nodded, sobbing, "He...he said it several times...and that you're a good-for-nothing..."
But He Tian simply stood up, walked over to Gun Gun, and squatted down: "He's wrong. Dad isn't useless. Dad's job is to design games and make a lot of people happy. But Dad really doesn't spend enough time with you, and that's Dad's problem."
Gun Gun was stunned, even forgetting to cry.
He Tian continued, "However, Gun Gun, we can't correct someone by hitting them if they say something wrong. If you push them, you'll be punished too, and the problem won't be solved, right?"
"Then... what should we do?" Gun Gun asked softly.
“Next time he says that, you can tell him, ‘My dad is amazing. Millions of people play the games he designed.’ If he still doesn’t listen, just walk away or tell the teacher.” He Tian paused. “If you’re really angry, go home and tell your dad. He’ll teach you to code, and we’ll make a game character to turn him into a big, stupid loser.”
Gun Gun burst out laughing, snot bubbles popping from his nose. He Miao stood to the side, watching the father and son, and suddenly felt her eyes sting.
He Tian stood up and looked at her: "What should we do about the teacher?"
“I have to write a self-criticism and apologize in public on Monday,” He Miao said. “I also have to call the other party’s parents to apologize.”
"Okay." He Tian nodded. "I'll play. After all, it's because of me."
He Miao wanted to say "no need," but swallowed the words back. She watched He Tian pick up his phone and walk to the balcony. His back looked somewhat thin in the lamplight, yet strangely steady.
Gun Gun snuggled over and hugged her waist: "Mommy, I was wrong."
He Miao stroked his hair and said softly, "Mom was also wrong. Mom shouldn't have been so harsh."
“Mom is afraid I’ll go astray.” Gun Gun looked up, his eyes sparkling. “Dad said that Mom is so anxious because she loves me so much.”
He Miao choked up and couldn't speak.
Perhaps. But this "eldest son" always manages to support the family from its downward spiral in the most direct way at crucial moments.
Ding Xiaojuan spends her nights at the law firm.
Three merger agreements lay spread out on the table, each as thick as a brick. She took off her glasses and rubbed her temples. The time displayed in the lower right corner of the computer screen was 23:47.
Her phone screen was lit up, showing her WeChat conversation with Gao Sheng. The last message was from Gao Sheng, sent two hours earlier: "Haha, I'm asleep, Mom's asleep too. What time are you coming home?"
She didn't reply. I don't know what to say.
This afternoon, she argued with the opposing lawyer on behalf of her client for a full three hours. They glared and pounded on the table over a mere percentage of the profits, throwing all semblance of decorum to the wind. Finally, the other side conceded, and the client patted her on the shoulder, saying, "Xiao Juan is amazing." But she felt exhausted, a deep, bone-deep exhaustion.
She scoffed at it then. And now?
They've even started using this kind of thinking to evaluate marriage.
She opened the group chat with Yi Yi and He Miao. He Miao had just sent a message: "We made it through safely. He Tian handled it better than I expected."
Yi Yi replied with a hugging emoji.
Ding Xiaojuan typed: "I suddenly wondered today, what are we working so hard for?"
He Miao replied instantly: "So that I'll have the confidence to ask men for money when I don't need to?"
Yi Yi replied after a while: "Maybe... it's to prove that I still have value. Not just so-and-so's mother, but so-and-so's wife."
Ding Xiaojuan looked at the words and leaned back in her chair. Outside the office's floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights shone like a galaxy. Beneath this galaxy, how many women like them were walking a tightrope between family, career, and self?
She replied to Gao Sheng with a message: "I'll reply right away."
Then she shut down her computer and packed her things. As she walked out of the law firm building, a cold wind hit her face. She wrapped her coat tighter around herself and suddenly remembered many years ago, on a winter night like this, Gao Sheng was still in China and would drive to pick her up. The car was well-heated, and there was a cup of hot milk tea on the seat.
When did I stop expecting these kinds of details?
Perhaps it started when she became so strong that she no longer needed that warmth.
Or perhaps she's pretending that she no longer needs to start.
After taking a shower, Yi Yi came out and saw Zhuang Jia's reply.
"Let's talk this weekend." Those three words sound like a work arrangement.
She dried her hair and walked into the living room. Kaikai was already asleep; the house was so quiet you could hear the refrigerator humming. She turned on the TV, randomly flipped to a channel, and the exaggerated laughter from a late-night variety show filled the room, only making it feel emptier.
My phone vibrated; it was Ding Xiaojuan tagging me in the group chat: "Talk it out directly, don't waste time."
He Miao chimed in, "Yeah, at worst we'll have a fight, and then we'll go back to what we were doing."
Yi Yi smiled and replied, "Okay."
She pulled out an old interview notebook. The pages were yellowed, and her bold handwriting recorded the words of an old man in an urban village: "The valuable thing about my dilapidated house is not the bricks and tiles, but the life I've lived in here."
day.
She suddenly remembered what Xian'er had said today: "Replant the person 'Yi Yi' again."
How do I plant it? Where do I start?
She turned on her computer and created a new document. The title was blank. The cursor blinked for a long time before she slowly typed a line:
"At thirty-seven, I decided to start over."
What should I write? I don't know. Maybe it's a record of these days' struggles, maybe it's sorting out those vague thoughts. Maybe it's just to give myself a place to speak.
She wrote a few lines, then deleted them. She wrote again, then deleted again. Finally, this was left:
"I don't know how far I can go. But at least, I want to honestly face this somewhat pathetic, somewhat scared, but still unwilling-to-give-up version of myself."
She paused here, looking at the screen. Her eyes welled up, but she didn't cry.
The sound of a car passing by came from outside the window, growing louder as it approached, then gradually fading away. Like many people and many things, they pass through our lives, leaving behind tracks, some deep, some shallow.
She saved the document and turned off her computer.
Back in the bedroom, Zhuang Jia wasn't home yet. She lay down and turned off the light. Darkness enveloped her like a gentle tide.
My phone screen lit up briefly beside my pillow; it was another message from Zhuang Jia: "Are you asleep?"
She stared at those three words for a long time before replying, "Not yet."
"I just got home," Zhuang Jia said. "Want some late-night snacks? I brought some kebabs."
Yi Yi stared at the screen, her finger hovering over the edge. The prepared, calm, and restrained outlines for their "talk" suddenly seemed somewhat ridiculous in the face of the skewers of grilled meat.
She replied, "Okay."
A few minutes later, the sound of a key turning could be heard. Zhuang Jia came in carrying a still-steaming bag, his body radiating cold air.
"I didn't put in too much chili, I know you can't handle too much spice." He put the bag on the table and rubbed his hands together.
Yi Yi got up and took two plates. The two sat down at the table and ate in silence. The aroma of the grilled skewers, mingled with the scent of cumin, brought a sense of comforting warmth and contentment.
"Today's interview..." Zhuang Jia began.
“I didn’t pass,” Yi Yi continued. “They said I was too ‘upright’ and lacked online savvy.”
"What is 'internet savvy'?" Zhuang Jia frowned.
"It's just... knowing how to attract attention online." Yi Yi laughed self-deprecatingly. "I probably don't really know."
Zhuang Jia ate a few bites in silence, then suddenly said, "My department may be laying off staff."
Yi Yi paused in her movements.
"It's not certain yet, but the rumors are already circulating." Zhuang Jia's voice was low. "The boss asked me to work on an optimization plan."
"you……"
“I’m not on the list,” Zhuang Jia interrupted her, “but some of my men… have been with me for years.”
He didn't say anything more. But Yi Yi understood. She had never experienced the feeling of having to raise a knife, but she could imagine it.
“What if…” she asked softly, “What if you get eliminated?”
Zhuang Jia chewed the meat in his mouth, taking a while to swallow: "I don't know. I've submitted my resume, but haven't heard back. Maybe... I'll drive for Didi? Or maybe I'll partner with someone to start a small business?"
He spoke calmly, but Yi Yi sensed a turbulent undercurrent beneath his words. This man, who had always been as steady as a rock, was also afraid.
"I'm not afraid," she said, then paused for a moment after saying it.
Zhuang Jia looked up at her.
“I’m not afraid.” Yi Yi repeated, this time more firmly, “The worst that can happen is starting over. As long as we can support Kai Kai and have a place to live, that’s enough.”
Zhuang Jia looked at her, his eyes suddenly reddening. He lowered his head, took a few big bites, and mumbled, "Mmm."
After finishing their late-night snack, it was almost one o'clock. While clearing the table, Zhuang Jia suddenly said, "Let's go to the country park this weekend. Let's bring a tent; Kai Kai has always wanted to go camping."
“Okay,” Yi Yi said.
“Take your time finding a job. Don’t rush.” He added, “As for family… I’ll share the burden more. Make a list of what I can do.”
Yi Yi stopped wiping the table. She looked at him; under the light, she could see a few gray hairs at his temples.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll list them.”
There were no hugs, no more heartfelt confessions. But something, in the smoky aroma of barbecue, in the weary honesty of the late night, flowed silently.
Like water beginning to move beneath a frozen river surface.
It was late at night. The two lay side by side on the bed, still with a little distance between them. But this time, Yi Yi took the initiative to turn over, facing his back.
"Zhuang Jia".
"Um?"
"Thank you for bringing the skewers."
Zhuang Jia's back stiffened for a moment, then he gave a very soft "hmm".
In the darkness, Yi Yi closed her eyes.
There's still so much to talk about this weekend: work, the future, the division of labor within the family, and inner fears. But at least tonight, they can take a temporary truce, sharing a moment of silent alliance amidst the lingering aroma of barbecue skewers.
The journey is long, and the problems remain. But at least they've begun to try to stop letting these problems become a wall between them.
Rather, it is a journey we face together, a difficult one, but one we can trek together.
Outside the window, the winter night was deep and cold. But inside, the shallow but real breathing of two people echoed each other in the silence.
That's enough.
That's enough for tonight.
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