104 Extra Chapter: Regret

It was Christmas Eve, 1949, at their home in New York.

After breakfast, Tan Yang hovered by Bi Qingtang, coaxing him. "Please, won't you come with me?"

Bi Qingtang glanced at her, smiled, and turned the page of his newspaper. "I can't. I have other business this evening; the department store is opening for the Christmas season, and I need to check on it."

Tan Yang gave him a playful, resentful nudge and stood up to leave. Bi Qingtang caught her hand. "You were never one for dancing before. Why are you so keen on this hospital ball?"

Tan Yang sat back down on his other side, beaming. "I’ve just been in the mood to dance lately. Come on, big brother, won't you join me?"

Seeing that Tan Yang had sat on the side of his face scarred by injury, Bi Qingtang hurriedly turned his head away. He stood up to face her, ensuring she saw only his unblemished side, and teased with feigned indifference, "I have work to do. If you want to dance, go yourself. Surely I don’t need to worry about a group of toothless old professors kidnapping you?"

Tan Yang smiled understandingly. "If you have work, then go. I’ll just stop by for a while and return."

Ever since Bi Qingtang returned from his injury, he rarely appeared in public. Even at home with his wife and daughter, he always tried to keep his good side turned toward them. That summer, when they attended their daughter Yan Qin’s wedding at the church, a toddler had pointed at his face and burst into tears. Bi Qingtang had maintained a mask of indifference, but the hand he held hers with had tightened sharply. Since then, he had avoided crowded places even more. Every time she thought of this, Tan Yang felt a deep ache. Her big brother—once so dashing and socially adept—had been transformed by his scars. She knew she had to find a way to help him.

That evening after dinner, Tan Yang spent a long time upstairs changing. When she finally descended, Bi Qingtang, seated on the sofa, felt his eyes light up. Her hair fell in waves to her waist, held back by jade hairpins. She wore a dark green silk gown with a slightly low neckline that accentuated her curves, the hem trailing elegantly behind her. Around her porcelain-white neck hung a pearl necklace set with jade, and she carried a cream-colored handbag with a gold chain.

Tan Yang gave him a deep, smiling look before picking up her handbag and taking her coat from the maid. Bi Qingtang stood up, a bit slow on the uptake, and helped her into the coat. "Dressed so beautifully? Just for a dance?"

Tan Yang linked her arm through his, acting coy. "I don't have a partner. If I don't dress up, I'll end up a wallflower!"

Bi Qingtang chuckled, half-joking. "If you aren't a wallflower, then your husband will be the one sitting on pins and needles!"

Tan Yang pursed her lips and playfully scolded him. "Look at you, an old married couple and you’re still jealous!" She took his hand and spun gracefully in his arms. Bi Qingtang showered her with praise. As she walked toward the door, she said with a touch of regret, "My, how many years has it been since we danced together?"

Bi Qingtang nodded in agreement, his feet instinctively tapping out a rhythm.

Just as she was about to leave, Bi Qingtang called out with a hearty laugh, "Wait, little sister! I'm coming too. We won't come home until well past midnight!" Tan Yang turned and ran back, throwing herself into his arms with a joyful laugh.

At the hospital Christmas ball, the doctors and nurses, accustomed to the sights of their profession, showed no surprise at Bi Qingtang’s scars. They greeted him warmly, and his spirits lifted. While they danced, Bi Qingtang remarked, "Little sister, I hear foreigners call people in white coats 'angels.' Is that true?" Tan Yang nodded with a smile. "There is some truth to it," he added.

Because it had been so long, Tan Yang’s steps were a bit rusty, but with Bi Qingtang leading, they soon found a seamless rhythm. Bi Qingtang had once been famous across Shanghai for his graceful dancing, and at this small hospital ball, he was the center of attention, earning much envy and praise. "Well, little sister," he asked proudly, "is your big brother still a good dancer?"

"Wonderful. I’ve never seen anyone better!"

Bi Qingtang laughed heartily. "And you dance beautifully, too. A great teacher produces a great student!" After a few turns, he asked, "Do you know what I was thinking when I first taught you to dance? I thought: once I’ve taught you, you’ll only ever dance with me for the rest of your life!"

Tan Yang glared at him. "You’ve always been so unreasonable. But I’m different from you—I already accepted dances with two of my colleagues on your behalf!"

Bi Qingtang gave her a hollow compliment, "Fine, fine! You have a generous heart!"

They were the last to leave the ball. Exhausted but still buzzing with excitement, they chatted about the night’s events on the ride home. As they neared the house, Tan Yang asked softly and cautiously, "Do you remember the second lady you danced with?"

Bi Qingtang thought for a moment. "I do. The little old lady in the brown dress, right?"

Tan Yang took his hand. "She is a renowned specialist in burns. She told me she took a close look at your scars while you were dancing. She believes they can be treated with a new technique called skin grafting."

Bi Qingtang frowned, then realized. "So you didn't just want to dance with me after all—you were dragging me to see a doctor!"

Tan Yang smiled noncommittally. That had indeed been her goal; she hadn't wanted to bring him to a formal consultation for fear of raising his hopes only to have them dashed by a negative prognosis.

Bi Qingtang pondered for a long time. "Is the surgery guaranteed to succeed? Will I definitely be better?"

Tan Yang shook her head. "No. Even the most routine surgery isn't 100 percent certain, and this is a new technique, so no one can make such a promise."

Bi Qingtang sighed. "Then let it be. If it fails, I’d only be more disappointed."

Hearing this, Tan Yang, who had been full of trepidation, felt a sense of resolve. "Then we won't do it. I don't want you to suffer through that pain again."

He looked at her and smiled. "As long as you don't mind."

Tan Yang gave him a sharp look. "I do mind! Why wouldn't I? You always keep one side of your face toward me—I'm getting tired of looking at it!" They both burst out laughing.

"In that case," Bi Qingtang joked, "I’ll sleep on your right side from now on and scare you every time the lights go out!" Tan Yang leaned her head on his shoulder, laughing. After a moment, he added solemnly, "I think I should go out more often. This is a new era, after all, and there are many people as worldly as you and your colleagues."

Back home, they headed upstairs to bed. Passing Yan Qin’s room, Tan Yang paused as she always did. It had been nearly half a year since their daughter had married and left. Looking at the tidy, warm, but empty room, Tan Yang felt a hollow ache. They still weren't used to their daughter’s absence; they were still trying to adapt to life without children.

Tan Yang mused that while their marriage was reunited and harmonious, everything going as they wished, there would always be a few regrets—like the fact that they would have no more children, or the scars the war had left on her brother’s face. But true life was made of regrets; a little regret meant a grounded existence. Otherwise, it would just be a movie—and fate would hardly be so kind as to cater only to one's whims.

The next day was the weekend. It was already late morning when Bi Qingtang was still fast asleep, and Tan Yang lay beside him, reading. The phone rang downstairs, and shortly after, the maid called out, "Ma'am, it's a call from the young mistress in Washington!" Tan Yang set down her book and went downstairs in her robe.

The call lasted a long time. When Tan Yang returned upstairs, Bi Qingtang was sitting in bed, staring expectantly at the door. He had strongly opposed his daughter marrying a foreigner and had remained stubborn about it. He wanted to know what she had said, but couldn't bring himself to ask. Tan Yang understood, but this time, she kept silent on purpose. She went to the bathroom to wash up, her face bright and her steps light. She even sat at her vanity to apply makeup, looking remarkably cheerful.

Bi Qingtang finally couldn't take it anymore. "Well? Tell me!"

Tan Yang smiled, then turned to face him. "Big brother! Nannan says she's pregnant! The baby will be born next summer. We’re going to be grandparents!"

Bi Qingtang erupted into uncontrollable laughter. Tan Yang teased him, "I thought you were pretending? Can't keep it up anymore, can you?"

Bi Qingtang didn't mind. He jumped out of bed, scooped Tan Yang up from her stool, and laughed loudly. "Being a grandfather is one thing, but you, a grandmother? You won't even be forty by next summer—where would one find such a young grandmother?" Tan Yang leaned against his chest, laughing happily.

Later, in high spirits, Bi Qingtang hummed a tune from a Peking opera. While washing his face, he noticed the little foreign angel on the soap dish—blonde, blue-eyed, and chubby. He imagined his grandchild might look just like that. Foreign children were always quite pretty, he thought; perhaps his daughter marrying Matthew wasn't such a terrible thing after all.

As he looked in the mirror, he saw his scarred face—truly frightening, and no wonder it had scared the child at the wedding. He wiped his face quickly and stepped out of the bathroom. Standing in the doorway, he looked at Tan Yang and said firmly, "Little sister, help me contact that burn specialist from last night. I want the surgery. As soon as possible."

By August of the following year, Bi Qingtang’s surgery was complete. It was a success, and along with the skin grafts, he received a prosthetic eye; his appearance was eighty percent restored. He, Tan Yang, and Matthew’s parents waited outside the delivery room. At dusk, the midwife emerged to say everything had gone smoothly—it was a boy.

When they entered the room, Bi Qingtang stepped forward first and took the swaddled infant from Matthew’s arms. He gazed at the baby with eyes full of warmth. "He’s heavier and prettier than you were," he said to Yan Qin with a smile.

Yan Qin pouted playfully. "Father!"

Bi Qingtang laughed even harder. "Your mother and I have already discussed it. Matthew is just starting his career, and you still have your studies to finish. Your mother and I can help with the baby!"

As he spoke, the infant in the swaddle seemed to understand, opening his eyes to look at the man holding him. Bi Qingtang’s smiling face was reflected in the child's eyes, and as if reassured, the baby closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

In a person's life, there will always be experiences and there will always be regrets. We can choose to be detached and let them go, or we can choose to put in the effort to make amends. But if we can, it is better to make positive choices. After all, only by living without regrets can we truly face the end without them.