11 (9) Worries

Gradually, Bi Qingtang became accustomed to visiting Tan Yang in her apartment to check on her studies after finishing his business and social engagements. Tan Yang, too, found that in the gentle, tranquil days, everything felt truly right only with this elder brother present. She began to talk more, laugh more, and indulge in playful antics; after all, she was the youngest among the four, and having someone to dote on her gave her the license to be mischievous.

Half a year passed in the blink of an eye. In July of that year, Tan Yang, who had already completed her elementary curriculum ahead of schedule, successfully enrolled in a reputable junior high school nearby. But Zhao Ling said Tan Yang’s academic journey was just beginning; her next step would be to finish the four-year junior high course in two years and aim for admission to the best Diligence Academy. This way, she could attend senior high school alongside peers her own age. Thinking of this plan filled Tan Yang with confidence and hope; for her, life was only just beginning.

It was the first week at her new school: new teachers, new classmates, new uniforms, a fresh scent lingering around her. When the bell rang, Tan Yang walked lightly out of the classroom. Just outside the school gate, she spotted Bi Qingtang’s car across the street. She ran over smiling, and Bi Qingtang opened the car door, shifting over to the other side.

“You’re so free today, big brother?” Bi Qingtang nodded slightly, instinctively adjusting his tie. Tan Yang, settling into the car, exclaimed in surprise as she scrutinized him, “You look so grand today!” Bi Qingtang grinned with satisfaction. “Of course, I’ve got an event tonight.” Seeing he didn’t want to elaborate, Tan Yang didn’t press, placing her books aside with a smile. Glancing down, she noticed a large bouquet of bright red flowers under the seat. Her eyes sparkled, instantly revived, and she reached out, gathering the flowers into her arms. “So fragrant,” Tan Yang murmured, lowering her head and closing her eyes to inhale deeply. Bi Qingtang was momentarily stunned before bursting into laughter. “Silly girl, roses don’t have a scent!” “They do! Sweet and fragrant, just like the rose milk candy you brought us last time,” Tan Yang insisted earnestly.

Watching Tan Yang smiling and fiddling with the petals, Bi Qingtang’s face grew somewhat awkward. He cleared his throat, “Little sister, do you like flowers?” Tan Yang nodded slightly. He straightened up, looking out the window. After a moment, he told the driver to stop and hurried out. When he returned, he was holding a large bouquet of white lilies, wrapped in newspaper, their delicate aroma filling the car. “Here, these are worthy of our little sister.” Tan Yang, not understanding, accepted them with a smile and thanked him. Right then, Bi Qingtang swiftly removed the roses from her arms, tossing them back under the seat.

Tan Yang was stunned, but Bi Qingtang didn’t look at her. He fitted a cigarette into his holder, lit it, and took a gentle draw. “A few days ago, Commissioner Zhang introduced me to his niece—a young lady just back from studying abroad. She’s an only child, and her family owns several large factories. I don’t intend to spend my life in the tobacco business. Her uncle has boundless prospects and will be a great help in the future.” Tan Yang said nothing, turning her head to the window, letting the lilies rest carelessly on her lap. Bi Qingtang continued, “She’s been receiving flowers from me for a month. Next month, the matter will be settled, and we’ll marry by the end of the year. You’ll have a sister-in-law to give you New Year’s money, and I’ll have a wife to spend the holidays with. See? I didn’t fool you last New Year, did I?” Tan Yang replied with a dry “mm,” and said nothing more.

The car stopped at a newly opened Cantonese restaurant. Bi Qingtang, quite enthusiastic, said their dim sum was excellent—he’d eaten here with friends several times and thought Tan Yang would like some dishes in particular. Tan Yang followed him out, distracted and perfunctory, dampening Bi Qingtang’s excitement. The table was filled with delicate baskets of assorted sweet and savory treats. In the upscale restaurant, distinguished ladies ate quietly and laughed softly. Bi Qingtang happily pointed things out, but Tan Yang only picked at a few items, eating just a couple of shrimp dumplings before declaring she was full. Seeing this, Bi Qingtang set his chopsticks aside. “You don’t like the taste, right? What would you like? I’ll take you somewhere else.” “I’m not hungry today.” “Let’s go to the Hunan restaurant. Didn’t you say you wanted to go back?” “Let’s go back to the apartment. I have a lot of homework—I want to get back early.”

The ride back was silent. Upon arriving at the apartment, Tan Yang dumped her books onto the sofa, opened the balcony door, and stood outside looking down. It was dusk; the street below was bustling with traffic and noise. Tall sycamores blocked the view, like clouds separating the mortal world from the heavens. Tan Yang looked down through the dense branches at the scattered figures and passing cars. Because what she longed for was out of reach, her heart felt empty. Bi Qingtang sat on the living room sofa, frowning as he stared at Tan Yang’s silhouette on the balcony. He had been so happy to pick her up, but this oppressive evening left him listless and dispirited.

“Didn’t you say you had lots of homework? Why are you standing outside staring at the sky?” Bi Qingtang broke the silence, his tone tinged with reproach and complaint. Tan Yang clearly heard him but, for the first time, ignored him, rudely keeping her back turned. Bi Qingtang, growing impatient, stood up abruptly and strode toward the balcony, his voice angry, “What’s wrong with you today? You’ve been difficult with me since the start, sulking all the way.” Tan Yang still didn’t reply, but her hand gripped the railing tightly, her fingertips pale from the force. Bi Qingtang came beside her, holding the railing and turning to look at her. To his surprise, he saw Tan Yang’s face, tears streaming silently, the droplets marking the dark red paint with streaks of moisture.

Bi Qingtang was shocked and quickly bent down, speaking softly, “Little sister, what’s wrong? Is there something upsetting at school?” Tan Yang didn’t answer, so he continued, “No, you were fine just after class. Is it—” He paused. “Are you angry with me? You like roses, don’t you? I’ll buy you some tomorrow—lots of them, every color, fill the whole room, all right?” Tan Yang turned then, leaning against the railing, taking a while to steady her emotions before speaking. “No, it’s just—when you said you’re courting Miss Zhang and marrying her at the end of the year, I felt awful. I know in my heart you shouldn’t spend holidays alone—you ought to have a wife. But thinking of that stranger, Miss Zhang, I feel an inexplicable aversion. And—I don’t even know why I’m so sad because of this.”

Seeing Tan Yang’s tear-stained, bewildered face, Bi Qingtang was suddenly enlightened. In the sunset, her long braids hung down, her pale blue blouse and black pleated skirt giving her a pure and delicate air that tugged at his heart. He shook his head, smiling gently, and handed her his handkerchief. “You don’t know why?” Tan Yang nodded. Bi Qingtang sighed helplessly and returned to the sofa, his face grave.

Later, Zhao Ling arrived, and then the driver came to remind him it was time for the dance. Only then did Bi Qingtang get up and leave, not bothering to say goodbye to Tan Yang or Zhao Ling, who were studying in the living room. After he left, Zhao Ling asked Tan Yang, “What happened? Did you two have a quarrel?” Tan Yang replied, “I can’t really say,” and buried herself in her work.

With over half an hour left before Tan Yang finished her studies, Bi Qingtang returned, sitting silently in the living room, smoking. After Tan Yang finished, Li He arrived. Bi Qingtang sent the driver to take Zhao Ling and Li He home—it wasn’t far—while he personally drove Tan Yang. In the car, Zhao Ling immediately noticed the flowers. “Why are there red roses?” The driver laughed, “They were meant for Miss Zhang at the dance, but Boss Bi forgot to take them when he got out.” “And the lilies? Are they together?” “No, they were for Miss Tan, but she didn’t seem to like them and left them in the car.” Zhao Ling looked at the two bouquets, pondering for a moment, as if she understood.

Bi Qingtang and Tan Yang went downstairs together, walking in silence. The wind, cool in the late summer and early autumn evening, carried a faint scent of osmanthus from somewhere, sweet and clinging, with a hint of intimacy. The yellow streetlights illuminated only people and trees, leaving the road in darkness. Bi Qingtang glanced at Tan Yang’s delicate, fair face with a sense of reassurance and contentment. He suddenly realized how wonderful it was to be admired by such an intelligent and beautiful young woman. Hours earlier, he had been startled and at a loss by her words, distracted at the dance, worrying over how to handle the situation. But unexpectedly, being alone with her again brought a tender, indescribable joy.

He had prepared his words, intending to gently tell her she was still young and inexperienced, while he, lacking education and with a temper, was not a suitable match. When she finished her studies and started her career, she would meet many outstanding men—educated and cultivated. Marriage should not be a reckless gamble, a matter of chance. Choosing a lifelong partner ought to be a calm, careful selection. He wanted to express, sincerely, that he was certainly not worthy of her, and to make his words sound less like rejection and more like relinquishment. Yet in this moment, he hesitated.

Love is the most selfish thing in the world. Whatever you desire, you strive for; there is never truly “unworthy,” only unwilling, or a self-awareness that togetherness would not bring happiness.

“Big brother, was I really so annoying today?” “No, not at all,” Bi Qingtang replied gently, smiling. “I think I was very unreasonable. I thought about it for a long time and only just now realized why,” she said, and Bi Qingtang, hearing her words, felt a strange tension and anticipation. “I remember after my mother passed away, matchmakers would occasionally visit, urging my father to remarry. Whenever that happened, I would inexplicably throw tantrums at him. Looking back, I was truly immature—just afraid of losing his affection. That was a selfish child’s thought. I’m older now and shouldn’t be like that anymore. Please don’t hold it against me, big brother.”

After a long pause, Bi Qingtang replied perfunctorily, then buried himself in smoking, growing more restless as they made small talk about trivial matters. When they reached the entrance to Tan Yang’s lane, she said goodbye and was about to leave when Bi Qingtang called her back, asking seriously, “Do you know what you said to me at first, and then what you said later?” Tan Yang looked confused. Bi Qingtang frowned, threw his cigarette to the ground, and waved her off. “Go home.” He turned and walked away without looking back. After a long walk, still unable to calm his tumultuous thoughts, he muttered angrily, “So, youth and ignorance truly are blessings—all the troubles are left for others!”

End of “Jade Cypress Chronicle” Chapter 119.