Old Shadows and New Traces
On September 11, 2010, Zhou Yang presided over the core processes of burning incense and offering sacrifices, while Zhou Xiao and Zhou Yong jointly organized a banquet to entertain all those who came to pay their respects.
When Jiang Wenqing stepped into the room, the whispers of the guests in the room were suddenly cut off, leaving only the two white candles in front of the portrait emitting sparks.
"My condolences." Jiang Wenqing bowed three times to the memorial tablet. The arc drawn by the back of his suit was so precise that it seemed as if it had been calibrated with a protractor.
Zhou Xiao's hand holding the cigarette was suspended in mid-air. He turned the cigarette between his fingers and put it back into the cigarette box.
"Xiaofeng is upstairs." Zhou Xiao's answer was short and scalding. Jiang Wenqing kept a half-step distance from Zhou Xiao, walking behind him. When Zhou Xiao knocked on the door, Xiaofeng took off her headphones in surprise and rushed to the door, "Wenqing, why are you here?"
"To save on phone bills."
After hearing this, Xiao Feng wanted to laugh, but still said calmly, "I'm sorry, my mother... today..."
"On the sixth or seventh day, my son-in-law will come to pay homage..." As Jiang Wenqing took a step forward, Zhou Xiao suddenly interrupted, "The one presiding over the offering ceremony today is Zhou Yang."
Jiang Wenqing unbuttoned his suit with a faint smile and politely responded, "Then I should go and thank him. I'm late. Xiaofeng, you won't blame me, will you?"
Xiaofeng lowered her head, not daring to speak. Jiang Wenqing, however, maintained his usual tone and asked, "Your Uncle Zhou surely didn't tell you that the deep cooperation between their offshore fund and private bank also includes business alliances, right?"
Xiao Feng looked up and glanced at Jiang Wenqing and Zhou Xiao, "I don't understand business matters."
Jiang Wenqing stroked Xiaofeng's shoulder and said, "It's okay. You don't need to understand. I'm here for you."
Zhou Yong's footsteps on the stairs were like a pebble dropped into still water, suddenly breaking the awkward silence. Xiao Feng rushed over almost reflexively, her fingers tightly grasping his collar. "Uncle Zhou."
"Xiaofeng, I'm leaving first." Zhou Yong's voice was as gentle as usual.
"I'll take you there." Xiaofeng immediately took his arm and hurried downstairs. The light in the stairwell cast a swaying shadow on the two of them. Zhou Yong deliberately slowed down his pace. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced over the railing and caught a glimpse of Jiang Wenqing standing there, like a silent stone statue.
Zhou Yong tilted his head slightly, his warm breath brushing Xiaofeng's ears, and his voice was very low: "Is there anything you need Uncle Zhou to do?"
Xiaofeng's shoulders trembled slightly, and she simply shook her head vigorously, her long eyelashes drooping, hiding the surging emotions in her eyes. Zhou Yong looked at her red eyes and softened his tone, saying, "If there's anything, you can always tell me, no matter what time it is."
These words flowed into Xiaofeng's heart like a warm current. She could no longer hold back. Crystal tears swirled on her eyelashes, and her voice was nasal: "Thank you, Uncle Zhou!"
"Be good." Zhou Yong raised his hand and patted the back of her hand. The warmth of his palm brought a reassuring power.
After getting in the car, Zhou Yong didn't start the engine immediately. He picked up his phone, paused his finger on the screen, and sent a voice message to Zhou Xiao, "Brother, call me when you get home, no matter how late it is."
The car slowly drove away. Zhou Yong stared out the window at the receding street scene, his heart churning. Back home, he sank into the sofa, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. The screen lit up, and he clicked on his contacts. His finger slid up and down the screen, his eyes repeatedly lingering on the same name, as if he were struggling with a difficult decision. Finally, he turned off the screen, and the room fell into a brief darkness, the only light from the moonlight filtering in through the gap in the curtains, casting a thin line of light on the floor.
Not long after, his cell phone suddenly rang rapidly. The sharp ringtone was like a thunderclap, suddenly pulling Zhou Yong out of his chaotic thoughts. He almost answered the phone immediately, his voice hoarse with just coming back to his senses: "Brother."
"Is it about Xiaofeng?" Zhou Xiao's voice came from the receiver, calm but with a hint of understanding.
"Yeah." Zhou Yong responded, his tone instantly becoming serious. "When did Jiang Wenqing set his sights on her? He clearly came prepared today."
"Zhou Yang told me about him last week. I guess he already knows about it," Zhou Xiao paused and added, "I'm checking him out."
"What did you find out? Let's talk about it when we meet. I'll come to you now." Zhou Yong said as he was about to stand up.
"Don't come over here yet," Zhou Xiao's voice came through the electricity, with a firmness that brooked no argument, "I still have something to say to Weiwei."
"I understand, brother..." Zhou Yong's words paused, and after hesitating for a moment, he couldn't help but speak.
"What's wrong?"
"If possible..." Zhou Yong lowered his voice, with a hint of pleading, "Consider Xiaofeng's position and don't hurt her."
"No need for you to remind me." Zhou Xiao's voice became a little colder, and he hung up the phone directly after he finished speaking.
A monotonous "beep" sound came from the receiver, and Zhou Yong's fingers holding the phone tightened unconsciously. He stared at the end call interface that jumped on the screen, but his eyes once again drifted uncontrollably to the name in the address book that he had been looking at repeatedly, and he felt mixed emotions.
The next morning, as the morning light filtered through the gauze curtains, casting tiny specks of light on Xiaofeng's pillow, the blue light from her phone screen made her squint. The message was like a blunt knife, each word slowly stirring in her chest. "Xiaofeng, I'm sorry! I need to go away for work, so our coffee date will have to be postponed."
She stared at the words "Coffee Date" on the screen. The promise that had once made her cheeks blush secretly now felt like frozen stones, pricking her eyes. Tears suddenly flowed without warning, splashing onto the sheets, leaving a small dark mark. She didn't even have the strength to wipe them away.
Xiaofeng didn't reply to Jiang Wenqing's message. She simply placed her phone upside down on the bedside table and got up to continue her Sunday schedule. She mechanically packed gift boxes at her part-time job, stared blankly at her homework book after returning home, let the hot water soak over her ankles in the shower, and before going to bed, she looked at the empty dining table and realized she had no appetite from morning till night.
On her way to school on Monday, Xiaofeng's finger hovered over her phone screen for a long time. She repeatedly typed and deleted the number she knew by heart. Finally, she took a deep breath, pressed the save button, and typed a line in the notes column: "I owe him a cup of coffee."
When the morning reading bell rang, the teacher was urging everyone to put away their phones. Before Xiaofeng locked her phone, she couldn't help but light it up and take a look. There were no new messages in the call log. She numbly placed her phone in the storage box held by the discipline committee member. Her fingertips felt the coolness of the plastic box, as if she'd been stung.
As soon as the bell for evening self-study rang, Xiaofeng was almost the first one to rush to the storage box. The movement of taking out the phone was trembling with the light of dusk, and even her breathing became lighter when she unlocked the screen. But the clean notification bar on the screen was like a basin of cold water poured over her head. She slowly packed her schoolbag, turned and walked towards the electric city at the school gate, played all the racing games until she exceeded the time limit, until her fingertips were rubbed hot by the steering wheel, and then she dragged her heavy feet home. When she passed by a convenience store, she bought the simplest sandwich for dinner, which felt like chewing wax when she bit into it. After returning home and finishing her homework, most of the street lights outside the window were already off. She took a last look at the still silent phone before turning off the desk lamp.
Over the next few days, as if on purpose, Zhou Yang and Jiang Wenqing suddenly vanished from Xiaofeng's life. The familiar greetings and occasional snacks vanished into thin air, as if the air itself had become thinner.
On the seventh day after her mother's death, Zhou Yong was the only one with Xiaofeng. The wind in the cemetery carried the dampness of the grass and trees, and the lilies in front of her mother's grave were stained with crystal morning dew, like tears that had not dried last night. Xiaofeng knelt in front of the tombstone, and the emotions that had been pent up for a long time finally burst out. She cried out loudly, her shoulders twitching violently. She clutched the corner of Zhou Yong's clothes, her voice broken and incoherent: "Uncle Zhou, why are they all leaving? Why did they leave me without saying a word? Is it... is it that I don't deserve to be loved?"
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