Chapter 55
At the age of five, Mo Daoyan met Grandma Mo for the first time. Meng Ruqing emptied her savings to buy him a bright yellow jacket, dressing him like the son of a wealthy capitalist. As she knelt on the ground to straighten his shirt, her hair smelled of cheap hair oil. Normally, she was rarely flustered, but at that moment, her hands were shaking, and she failed to button her clothes several times. She held his face in her hands, humbly begging him to behave well, so that Grandma would like him at first sight. Only if Grandma liked him would she accept his mother and brother. If he disappointed Grandma, the three of them would be kicked out of the Mo family and forced to sleep on the streets.
His younger brother was still a baby in swaddling clothes. How could he let him sleep on the street?
During that meeting, he was like a little actor with all kinds of skills. He was graceful, well-behaved and sweet-spoken. He recited ancient poems, did arithmetic, explained in detail to grandma the structure of the firearms used by grandpa, and sang a passage from "Receiving Orders from the General in the Yellow Tent" in "Dingjun Mountain". Grandma Mo's eyes were filled with tears. She held him in her arms for a long time, muttering that they were late and should have taken them home earlier.
When he was studying, his mother often told him to be first, to get first place in the exam, to get first place, and to be first in everything. Only in this way could she gain a firm foothold in the Mo family and their family could live a good life. So the young boy was willing to risk his life to be first, to get first place in all the exams, and even to be at the front in the relay race at the sports meet.
Time had proven his mother right. His outstanding performance had earned him a special kind of love from his grandmother, a love that even Mo Changlin and Mo Changying couldn't match. Because of him, his grandmother's attitude towards him had changed, becoming more gentle. As for his mother, her eyes only showed a hint of warmth when his report card was at its best. If he failed a test, she rarely smiled. He still remembered his sophomore year of high school, when he injured his head playing basketball and dropped to second place on the monthly exam. His mother didn't speak to him for three whole months.
All love in the world is conditional, and excellence is the foundation of survival. This way of survival has been engraved in his bones.
But even if he did, Tong Yufei didn't stop for him.
That day at the Tianhua Street Wholesale Market, he saw Tong Yufei and Ye Yimo. In just one meal, she wiped Ye Yimo's mouth five times, and every word she said was accompanied by an unadorned smile. The eyes filled with unconditional tenderness that he had longed for for more than ten years came from his wife, but they were facing someone else. He suddenly felt like a stupid donkey chasing a carrot.
There was nothing more ironic than this: he was supposed to compete with a fool for a woman? What a foolish dream!
When had she ever been upset before, she'd only thought of him after reality had hit her hard. She'd done something wrong, but instead of sincerely repenting and seeking forgiveness, she'd come back to him to bury the hatchet. He'd treated their initial marriage like a transaction, at least with a price tag, unlike her veiled hypocrisy! Divorce him? Who, after all, needed this marriage?
The divorce process could be slow, but he would not allow a fickle woman to come and go freely under his roof. Since she had built another nest outside, he would not keep her. This time, without waiting for her to do anything, he put her things in place in no time. She has always been an organized person. Except for the items in the boxes and cabinets, she finished packing everything else in less than an hour, including the bedding, into four woven bags.
He tied a knot at the mouth of the bag and left a message asking her to pick it up as soon as possible. She did not call back and did not show up, probably because she was busy with work. That day, he saw her signed article "Dancer in the Alley" in the Xicheng Daily subscribed by the company. The subtitle was "Dancing with wide sleeves, like an old friend". The article detailed Chen Jueyao's artistic journey. The writing was delicate and the text was full of sensationalism that went straight to the heart. It was sublimated at the end, and Chen Jueyao's contribution to the development of song and dance in Xicheng was vividly portrayed.
The article itself was well-written, but he predicted it wouldn't cause much of a stir, and might even have side effects. Chen Jueyao's scandals were still lingering, and releasing such a laudatory article at this moment in an attempt to sway public opinion seemed a bit hasty, a quick-success mentality evident in the paper. Unless there were other options, he couldn't help but wonder if Cheng Yuan, distraught by the miscarriage, had allowed such an ill-considered article to appear in the newspaper.
It was not until the third day when he got home from get off work that he saw Tong Yufei again.
The door of her house was half open, and she was dragging a woven bag out. She had stuffed it too full before, and the bag was very heavy. The fabric was stretched and shiny by her pulling, and one strand of the bag was broken. She half-dragged and half-carried it, going back and forth on the stairwell. Her hair was stuck to her forehead by sweat, and a strand of bangs hung down, covering her eyes. She couldn't free her hands, so she had to purse her lips and blow air, and the strand of hair reluctantly moved to the side.
She was wearing a Martian red plaid shirt with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing the firm muscle outlines on her forearms. Ever since she became a reporter, her outdoor assignments had increased, and she occasionally had to take on the role of photographer and camera carrier. Her arms had become stronger than before, and the energy with which she carried things reminiscent of the dancer she once was.
When Mo Daoyan walked to the door, she was stuck at the door struggling with the second bag. In the past, whenever she wanted to see Chen Jueyao, she would ask him for help. Now she was so tired that she was out of breath, but she gritted her teeth and refused to ask for help. Since she didn't ask him for help, he stood aside and watched the show. He didn't lean over and pull until he saw her hand bleeding. Then he leaned over and pulled, and the stubborn package rolled out the door.
The remaining two woven bags were too heavy to carry, so Tong Yufei split them into smaller packages and carried them downstairs one by one, like ants moving house. There was a cardboard box containing several pairs of shoes. On top were a pair of glacier blue Nike running shoes, which he had given her to celebrate her becoming a reporter. She put the shoes back in their original box and placed them in the hallway.
He leaned against the door frame, a half-lit cigarette between his fingers: "I never take back the things I give away. I just throw them away if I don't want them anymore."
Tong Yufei was exhausted, her voice so low it was barely audible: "I haven't worn it."
"If you don't want to wear it, why did you accept it in the first place? Is there a time when you're not acting?"
"I wear a size thirty-six."
This pair of shoes is size 37. He didn't ask her size before buying them, and he had never seen her shoe size before. Why did he choose this size when buying them? Maybe most of the women around him wear this size, and she is always blurred in the "majority".
She laid out her account book, IOU, and pager on the coffee table. "When I moved last time, I put all the valuable jewelry I received at my wedding into a large jewelry box and locked it in a drawer in your wardrobe. The key to the jewelry box is in your study."
After she finished speaking, she walked out holding the cardboard box, but she heard him say, "Leave the key."
There were still a few bags left to move, and she wanted to come get them someday: "I can't move all my things at once..."
"I'm not always home. Wait until you move."
He wasn't home, so she couldn't move? She wasn't a thief, but since he'd said that, she'd returned the key, thinking he was finally satisfied. But he stubbed out his cigarette and threw it into the ashtray, shredded the IOU, and shoved the pager back into her hand. "It's not too late to do this once we're completely clean. I don't want to have to search the world for someone by then. Also, please remember this: don't rush to make a clear distinction between us. You won't be able to pay it back."
"I have a backup of the IOU. I'll pay you back bit by bit. If you don't want it, just throw it away." She repeated his words word for word, her voice hoarse as if it had been scratched by sandpaper. She didn't want to argue with him, so she just put the pager down and talked about the important matter. "My employer won't give me a divorce certificate. I said our relationship has broken down. The union insisted on sending someone to mediate first. If mediation fails, we can open it later. What day do you think is convenient?"
"Mediation is for those who have room for maneuver. Do we have any? How did the relationship break down? You're telling so many lies, it's hard to tell the real reason."
"Which couple should not go through this divorce process? There's nothing special about my marriage to you. If you feel the reasons I gave are incorrect, you can speak to the union representative in person."
"Tong Yufei, if you take this step forward, don't even think about taking it back!"
She kicked open the half-closed door and strode out. "Of course I'm coming back. What's the point of the union mediation if there's no one involved? But I'm leaving. I won't cling to you."
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When Tong Yufei was carrying the cardboard boxes downstairs, the mover he had arranged to meet just turned into the community. He was the same mover from last time. He used to be a vendor selling roasted sweet potatoes and occasionally took on some moving jobs.
The master recognized her at a glance and said, "You've only lived in this new house for less than three months. Why are you moving again?"
She murmured, "Yeah."
When the master heard she was moving to Xishan District, he frowned. "As the old saying goes, 'People go to high places, and water flows to low places.' You're in luck, little girl. Last time you moved from a big house to a small apartment, and this time you're moving to a poor mountain valley. Xishan is such a shabby place, even mice have to cry when digging holes."
She pursed her lips and smiled: "It's not as exaggerated as you say, otherwise the government would have to provide disaster relief."
"You are my regular customer, but we still need to clarify the transaction. Xishan is too far, so you have to add two dollars."
She picked up the woven bag and put it in the car: "One dollar, I'll come back to you next time I move."
The master's eyes flickered over her thin shoulders, and he rushed forward. "Put it down, put it down. I'll do it. Little girl, you're lucky to have met me. Today you'll be the mistress, and don't do the rough work." As he carried the boxes, he lowered his voice and asked, "Why do you always move alone? Where's your family? Are you in love? Where's your partner? Are you married? Where's your lover? Look at the sky. It'll be at least nine o'clock by the time we get to Xishan. Even a simple-minded person like me, if I meet someone with bad intentions... How can your family be at ease?"
She humorously defused the driver's barrage of questions: "I know you have a kind heart, otherwise why would I choose your car?"
The driver smacked his lips, his cigarette smoke lingering in a smile. "Alright, you can talk better than you sing, after all. If my daughter were half as clever as you, I wouldn't have to worry about her being wronged by her in-laws." After the luggage was loaded, the driver placed a bundle of old newspapers on the back of the cart, patted it, and said, "Come up and help hold it down."
Tong Yufei knew that the driver was concerned about the long journey and wanted to give her a ride, but how could she really treat him like a rickshaw driver? So she rolled up her sleeves and said, "I'll push the rickshaw for you. It's just right for you to help me digest my food."
The master grabbed the handlebars and said, "Take another look?"
"What are you looking at?"
"You've lived here for three months. Xishan is incomparable to this place. Don't you feel reluctant to leave?"
Tong Yufei pushed the cart and said, "Let's go."
Mo Yan stood by the window, watching Tong Yufei and the movers walk away, chatting and laughing. He clenched his fists, then unclenched them, unclenched them again. It was clearly her. How could the person dancing in the cherry grove be a self-reliant and ambitious young man, while being his wife was synonymous with restlessness? Restlessness in career can lead to brilliance, but emotional restlessness is a disaster. This person was a mixture of contradictions and shields. Call her dull, but she was more calculating than anyone else. Praise her for her intelligence, and she always made the dumbest choices.
But she was leaving, and whether it was good or bad, it had nothing to do with him anymore. He raised his hand and slammed the window shut, isolating everything related to her outside the window.
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