Chapter 25
Meng Zixian told her on the phone that he was waiting for her at the departure entrance. Because he was coming, Shen Huan had to go to the restroom to brush her teeth after leaving the gate. She had drunk some wine at Evelyn Collins's wedding, and when she woke up this morning, her mouth tasted strange. She had only eaten a banana that day and bought a cookie at the airport coffee shop. The cookie was huge, as big as her palm, and it felt so reassuring to hold it in her hand.
Chen Huan put her schoolbag down in front of the bathroom sink and rummaged through it for a long time, finding her toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste. She squeezed out the last bit of toothpaste, took a few steps, and tossed the tube into the trash can for paper towels. On her way back, she knocked over the bucket at the cleaner's feet. She apologized and picked up the mop and rag, pretending not to hear the man's curses. With her soaked sneakers on and her dripping trouser legs lifted, she walked back to the sink to brush her teeth.
After attending Evelyn's wedding, Chen Huan took the train to Kennedy Airport. She had booked a flight back to Hancheng tonight, but upon arriving, she discovered the hurricane had delayed her flight until tomorrow. Although the airline had issued her a $200 hotel voucher, all the hotels near the airport were fully booked.
She was at the boarding gate, unsure of what to do, when she received a call from Meng Zixian, saying he was coming to pick her up. Chen Huan said, "No, I don't want to see you. You couldn't find me when I needed you most, and it's too late to make up for it now." Meng Zixian asked her which boarding gate she was at, and said, "I'll be there in five minutes." Chen Huan asked how she knew I was at the airport. "Stan told me," Meng Zixian replied.
Because he insisted on coming, she knocked over the bathroom bucket.
She dragged her suitcase down the escalator and saw Meng Zixian standing motionless next to the billboard in the lobby with his hands in his coat pockets, like a male model reflected in a painting. She walked over and Meng Zixian took the suitcase from her.
She said you've lost a lot of weight. Meng Zixian asked why you were limping. Chen Huan said that Stan's sister's wedding was at the beach in Newport, and he sprained his ankle when they went to the beach for a bonfire. Meng Zixian asked if he could give me his schoolbag. Chen Huan switched the biscuit in his right hand to his left and took off his schoolbag.
Meng Zixian walked in front, and Chen Huan followed behind. She asked if the car was parked far away, as it was not allowed at the exit. Meng Zixian said it was okay, and the driver went around in a circle. Chen Huan was stunned for a moment. Meng Zixian was not used to having a driver, so he always drove himself.
Shen Huan asked him if he was sick, and Lou Hetai said that he had been in the hospital for the past few days. Meng Zixian pulled the suitcase without looking back and said that he was fine.
They walked out of the terminal one after another, raindrops falling from the edge of the awning, pedestrians hurried past, and their suitcases splashed through the puddles on the roadside.
In the waiting area, yellow taxis, red and blue headlights, and people dragging suitcases formed two long queues in the rain. Staff in fluorescent yellow vests loudly reminded people that it would take an hour and a half to queue for a taxi.
So long. Chen Huan thought, looked up at Meng Zixuan, and happened to meet his gaze as he turned back. He said you're welcome. Chen Huan was stubborn, I didn't ask you to come.
So how are you going to go?
I can take the subway. I'm very familiar with the subway here. She limped in front of him, looked at the license plate, and walked towards a brand new black Bentley Flying Spur. She turned around and asked if it was that car. Meng Zixian said yes. The driver came out and greeted Chen Huan, picked up the luggage in Meng Zixian's hand and went to the trunk. Meng Zixian opened the back door for her.
The interior of the car was spotless, and the beige floor mats were as thick as a piece of cake. Chen Huan hesitated and asked, "Isn't this car borrowed? My sneakers are wet. Don't make it dirty." Meng Zixuan said, "The car is yours, get in."
Sitting in the back seat, Chen Huan asked why I had never seen this car before. Meng Zixian said that Xuan Tao's New York office added it at the beginning of the year and it was registered in your name for tax reasons. Chen Huan asked what the tax reasons were. Meng Zixian said that you should ask Li Ting about this.
When Li Ting was mentioned, Shen Huan fell silent.
She fastened her seat belt, took off her sneakers, stepped onto the seat barefoot, curled her legs up and hugged them to her chest, took the cookies and tissues out of the paper bag and placed them on her knees, took a bite, and wiped her fingers.
They merged into the dim night of the Airport Expressway, their wheels rolling through the puddles, leaving trails of water, the engine noise swallowed by the sound of the rain. Chen Huan didn't ask where they were going. She was willing to go anywhere with Meng Zixian, or just keep driving down the road. Although he would soon have to make some decision she couldn't understand, he would ask her to pack up and move out of his apartment. He would meet a decent woman, and they would walk on together, without the past and without the burdens.
Shen Huan picked up a few cookie crumbs from the leather seat and stuffed them back into his mouth.
Ten years ago, at the shooting range in Fayette, Meng Zixian and Shen Huan exchanged phone numbers. They met twice more after that: at a friend's backyard barbecue and a party in a seaside town. Both times, they didn't talk. He nodded to her from a distance, or held the door for her when she entered the house from the backyard.
Another week passed, and Meng Zixian asked her to go to the movies. Shen Huan didn't know why he asked her out, maybe it was a task assigned by Henry.
Meng Zixian chose a serious film, 12 Years a Slave. Actually, Chen Huan wanted to see The Hunger Games or Frozen. The Wolf of Wall Street would also be good. But as the two of them stood in silence in the ticket office, she couldn't bring herself to say it.
Sitting down in the dark brown theater with popcorn in hand, Chen Huan was thankful they hadn't chosen the movie. She'd been nervous. She'd heard "Frozen" was a story about a heroine who used singing to resolve national and family feuds, and she wondered if he'd find it boring. "The Wolf of Wall Street" was three hours long; wasn't that too long for a first date?
After the movie, Meng Zixian walked her to the outside of the multi-family wooden residential building built in 1930. The two stood facing each other for a long time. Chen Huan didn't know what to say next. She didn't know what to say next. She didn't know if it was polite words like "bye," "see you tomorrow," or "I had a great time today." She supposed the man should take the lead at this point, but Meng Zixian stood there without saying a word, his eyes fixed on the asphalt a few inches in front of his feet.
Chen Huan had a female classmate, Caroline, a junior, an exchange student from France at D School. She had experience in this area. Caroline taught him that if a man didn't kiss you at the end of the first date, he definitely wasn't interested. The more Chen Huan thought about it, the more he felt that this was the case. Maybe Meng Zixian was interested at first, but she was actually a bit boring to be with. She either talked very little or couldn't stop talking. Or maybe her legs weren't straight, there was a mole on the left collarbone of her neck, and her H&M tube top dress didn't fit her. Anyway, similar reasons.
Meng Zixuan spoke again, saying that he would be dispatched in another month.
"Oh, right." Chen Huan gathered her previously tangled thoughts. She didn't know how to respond to this. Good luck, have a safe journey. Honestly, she felt a little disappointed. This was like a typical male disclaimer: I'm leaving soon, I can't promise anything, don't fall for me. Besides, normal jobs can be transferred, and universities in other places can be transferred. But she couldn't say anything about his excuse.
She said, "Then I'll go upstairs," raised her hand and waved at him.
Don’t go, Meng Zixuan said, taking a step forward.
She really didn't leave, but turned back and stood there looking at him. He was getting closer, so she raised her head, and what caught her eye was still the silver cross, resting between his collarbones.
He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him, lowering his head and bringing his face close to her upturned face, their noses almost touching. She thought it was that kiss, but Meng Zixuan was just looking at her seriously under the streetlight.
His searching gaze tormented her. Her face burned. She avoided meeting his gaze, wondering how long he would continue to stare. She worried about whether her mascara had smudged or her nose was uneven. She thought, "Just say something, or give me a kiss, anything. Just stop staring at me."
After a long time, Meng Zixuan finally called out, "Huanhuan."
Shen Huan responded, yes.
He said I want to see you every day. Shen Huan bit his lip and said nothing.
He said, "Let's get married." Chen Huan's pupils trembled as she met his eyes. She read an eagerness, even innocence, in his amber irises—a look not unlike the one she'd seen on the face of the man in Army combat uniform outside the barracks a few weeks prior. It was a clichéd confession, the wrong timing. She knew she was making a ridiculous decision, but she still agreed.
Looking back many years later, she realized her impulsive agreement was partly due to her fondness for him, and partly because she naturally followed his wishes. She didn't know when this habit had developed, perhaps when he expertly took the gun from her hand, perhaps at the cinema that night, or perhaps even before. His deep gaze under the streetlight and the silver cross on his chest seemed to hold some kind of magic for her, a combination that held her captive like faith.
Leaving the decision-making power to Meng Zixuan was a comfortable arrangement for Chen Huan. This, of course, ran counter to her cultural upbringing, leaving her lacking an independent spirit and unable to assert her own will. But this comfort and peace of mind, like the sticky, salty aroma of tearing into crispy chicken wings, or the richness of chocolate slowly melting in her throat, repeatedly drew her back. And so, for many years to come, she lived according to his wishes.
Later, they went upstairs. She fumbled in her handbag for the brass key to open the door and turn on the hallway light. She tripped over her overshoes and scarf scattered on the floor. Meng Zixuan held her elbow, and she stood on tiptoe to kiss him. During the kiss, Chen Huan said the toilet wasn't working properly and that she needed to flush it twice. It was a dampener, and she regretted it the moment she said it, but he looked at her and nodded earnestly.
Her single mattress was on the floor, covering the stains left by the previous tenant on the carpet in the corner. The toilet tank was leaking a little, and there was mold in the corner of the bathroom wall. She didn't know why she was thinking about these things at this moment. She also told Meng Zixuan that the floor was a little old, and if she made too much noise, the landlord downstairs would come and knock on the door.
Lying down on the bed, she asked him if he had condoms, as she didn't have any. "Well," he seemed a little nervous. "I brought some. A student gave them to me for free while I was waiting for you at the entrance of your cafeteria today. Would you mind?" His voice was low, so hers also softened. She asked why he minded. "I don't know. It didn't seem formal enough." He looked into her eyes, his expression still a little serious. "Isn't this your first time?" Chen Huan asked. "No," he said. She breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't have much experience, and she was counting on him.
He leaned down and kissed her. Chen Huan suddenly frowned and said, "Wait a minute, my stomach hurts." She was very familiar with that sore feeling. Meng Zixuan was stunned. He said, "I haven't gone in yet." She pushed him away, got up from the mattress, and ran to the bathroom. It was indeed her period. At that time, she had not seen a doctor for dysmenorrhea.
She took a painkiller and then a hot shower. When she came out of the bathroom, she found Meng Zixian had repaired the old toilet tank. The washbasin and towels used to catch the leaking water had been washed and folded on the bathroom windowsill. She apologized to him with some guilt. Meng Zixian asked her if she was hungry. Shen Huan said she was a little hungry, but there were only eggs in the refrigerator.
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