Resolving Affection

Two days later, at noon, Bi Qingtang’s car stopped in front of Tan Yang’s house. Aunt Wu opened the door to see who it was, and to her surprise, it wasn’t Bi Qingtang sitting inside, but Uncle Chen.

“Uncle Chen, you’re here?” Tan Yang greeted him with a smile. Uncle Chen placed a pile of books onto the table—these were the very volumes Tan Yang and Bi Qingtang had left in his car after their quarrel over the ring. “School’s about to start, isn’t it?” Uncle Chen asked, his tone full of concern. Tan Yang nodded with a smile.

“What have you been busy with lately? Why haven’t you come by to see our young master, or even given him a call?” Uncle Chen’s question came as no surprise. Tan Yang lowered her head, forcing a smile. “I... I have some things on my mind. I wanted to think them through alone.” “And have you figured them out?” Uncle Chen leaned forward, his brows furrowed. Without waiting for her answer, he continued, “You won’t figure it out. Two people’s matters can’t be solved by just one person thinking about them.”

Uncle Chen tapped the armrest of his chair, unconcerned. “The woman you saw the other day is a nobody—a trivial affair. Back when the old master was still alive, there was little need for the young master to be involved. He was young, had leisure, and frequented Longsan Hall for half a year. Eventually, he tired of it and stopped going. After the old master passed, the burden of the chamber fell onto the young master’s shoulders, and he hasn’t been back to those places since. That woman likely hasn’t seen him in seven or eight years, took advantage of seeing him with you in the jewelry shop to squeeze some money out of him. Miss Tan, you’re clever—how could you not see through such a simple matter?”

Tan Yang looked up at Uncle Chen. “Uncle Chen, I’m not clever. Though I was unhappy seeing that woman cling to big brother, I know that if we talked it out, it wouldn’t be a big deal. The problem is, big brother never says anything—he just comforts me as if I were a child. And I feel...” Tan Yang’s anxiety was palpable as she looked at Uncle Chen, “I feel that there are many things big brother is unwilling to be truthful about, maybe to make me happy, maybe to save himself trouble. But the more he does this, the more I feel I don’t truly know him. How can I be at ease marrying him like this?”

Uncle Chen fell silent upon hearing her words. He straightened the books on the table slowly, and said, “Miss Tan, you’re overthinking. A young lady shouldn’t carry such heavy thoughts.” His mood suddenly turned, and he spoke with displeasure, “Miss Tan, your worries are hurting others. You agreed to marry the young master yourself, the date is set, and he’s overjoyed, spreading the news far and wide. You haven’t considered him—people of stature can’t just postpone their wedding at whim. The date is only days away, and he’s still hoping you’ll change your mind and marry him as planned!”

“You may not realize, but many big businessmen have factories in Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, all over. Their business in Shanghai depends on the chamber’s support, so once the young master announced his wedding, they took trains and ships to come to Shanghai. After they’ve traveled thousands of miles, you say you don’t want to marry anymore? How can the young master ever show his face again? On the Bund, the name Bi Qingtang would become a colossal joke! This is too big a matter for the young master to shoulder alone. You should go see him—things are best discussed together.”

Hearing Uncle Chen’s words, Tan Yang remembered Bi Qingtang’s difficulties, and her confidence faltered. “Uncle Chen, I was inconsiderate!” Uncle Chen nodded, softening, “The young master has nowhere to vent his anger—he smashed his ashtray and cut his hand badly, the wound is deep and he’s not taking care of it, it’s nearly infected.”

At this, Tan Yang panicked, immediately standing up. “Big brother? Uncle Chen, I must go see him—let’s leave now!” Though she had been upset, she truly cared for him. Bi Qingtang’s importance to her was beyond words, and perhaps had nothing to do with love or marriage. She rose to leave, but Uncle Chen called after her, “Miss Tan, you forgot something,” he glanced at her hand, “There’s a big difference between postponing a wedding and canceling an engagement!”

Arriving at Bi Qingtang’s house, Uncle Chen led Tan Yang inside on the first floor, gesturing upstairs as they walked. “That’s your new room upstairs—it was finished last week, so the young master moved downstairs to the guest room. Since you two had your disagreement, he’s been waiting in the living room for your call, like he’s bewitched. I thought that couldn’t go on, so I had another phone installed in the guest room.”

He opened the door to the guest room. The thick, dark red velvet curtains made the room gloomy, indistinguishable between day and night, and the air was thick with smoke, stinging the eyes. Tan Yang coughed softly. Bi Qingtang, reclining on the bed, turned to look at her, cigarette in hand, disbelief etched on his face.

Suddenly, the phone next to Bi Qingtang’s pillow rang loudly. He broke into a smile, pointing at Tan Yang, “Tell me, is this your call?” Tan Yang shook her head with a smile, walked to the window, drew the curtains open with a flourish, and pushed the window wide, letting fresh air stream in.

Leaning against the window, she turned to look at Bi Qingtang. He seemed exhausted, but when he spoke to the person on the phone, he was all warmth and wit, teasing and smiling, even joking about being a thirty-something “old” groom.

No matter how long they’d known each other or how deep their feelings ran, for Tan Yang, Bi Qingtang remained an unfathomable abyss—one you could fall into headlong, yet never reach the bottom or uncover the truth. Like now, his expression and tone were so utterly different, and yet both seemed real; she couldn’t distinguish, but she was enchanted.

Suddenly, Tan Yang understood: Bi Qingtang was a deep chasm crossing her life—she could only face it, not avoid it. Their union was inevitable, something to be delayed, never denied. Gradually, she grew calm, smiling as she watched Bi Qingtang on the phone.

After bidding farewell, Bi Qingtang hung up, and looking up, saw Tan Yang’s hand resting on the window frame, the diamond on her ring sparkling in the sunlight. A joy beyond words filled his heart; he reached out eagerly, “Little sister, come here.” Tan Yang pressed herself against the window, squinting as she smiled, “You come here!” Bi Qingtang glared at her, “I’m not dressed! I can’t get out of bed!” Tan Yang spotted his clothes on the chair, blinked awkwardly, and said carefully, “I’ll step out first, you can get dressed and then I’ll come back in,” and headed for the door. As she passed his bed, Bi Qingtang suddenly pulled her arm, catching her off guard and tumbling her onto the bed and into his embrace.

With beauty in his arms, Bi Qingtang laughed triumphantly. Tan Yang protested, struggling to get up, and in their tussle, the blanket slipped to his waist—he clung to her, bare-chested. Tan Yang panicked, and Bi Qingtang kissed her deeply by her ear, his voice low and threatening, “Stop fussing. If the blanket slips any further, I won’t be able to control myself!” Hearing this, Tan Yang tensed, not daring to move. Her cheek pressed against his chest, skin sliding against skin, the heat and smoothness making her heart tremble. His chest was broader and darker than his face, a few faint scars did nothing to mar its beauty. She could hear the short, powerful thrum of his heartbeat, feel his presence enveloping her, and she held her breath.

Bi Qingtang’s smile faded. He pressed Tan Yang’s shoulders tightly, “Let’s marry next week. Don’t delay it anymore. If I gave you ten or twenty years, you’d never fully know someone—just as you don’t know my past and I don’t know your future. But marriage isn’t about total understanding—it’s about absolute resolve.”

Listening to Bi Qingtang’s measured conviction, Tan Yang was moved, but anxiety soon followed. Was resolve enough for happiness together? This dazzling world surely couldn’t be so simple. Bi Qingtang clasped her hand passionately by her ear, “Little sister, even if you ignored me, I’d still tell everyone: I, Bi Qingtang, will marry Miss Tan on September eighth. In thirty years, I’ve never left myself an escape, except now. Little sister, will you accompany me?”

Tan Yang’s mind raced, spinning without finding answers. Unable to escape, she surrendered, deciding to follow her heart when her mind couldn’t unravel things. After all, in her heart, she truly wanted to marry him. She sighed softly, smiled, and nodded demurely in his arms. Bi Qingtang’s chest shuddered, and he trapped her in his embrace, jubilant, “Little sister, thank you—I’m so happy!” His joy was genuine, infectious. She was happy too—marrying a man she loved who loved her, what woman could resist?

Bi Qingtang lowered his head to kiss her, but Tan Yang dodged, pushing against his chest and turning away. “Big brother, put on your clothes first!” Bi Qingtang laughed and cursed, “You little rascal!” He reluctantly let go, and Tan Yang quickly slipped away, standing up to leave. “Don’t go out! Just don’t look!” Bi Qingtang complained. Tan Yang considered, then went to the window, leaning on the sill to gaze outside—a small nursery, white butterflies with green spots fluttering among peonies, a leisurely early autumn afternoon.

Behind her, she heard the rustle of Bi Qingtang dressing, blushing at the thought. He seemed to take forever, lingering over each piece of clothing. The atmosphere grew awkward and tense; Tan Yang cleared her throat, feigning calm, “Big brother, how’s your hand?” “Nothing serious, won’t delay the wedding,” Bi Qingtang replied, then added with a smile, “nor the wedding night!” Tan Yang rolled her eyes, spitting in mock annoyance, “I shouldn’t have agreed—better not marry!” Bi Qingtang paused, snorted coldly, “That’s not for you to decide. If I want to marry you on September eighth, you’ll marry me on September eighth! If you don’t want to, I’ll tie you up and bring you!”

This domineering, unreasonable remark made Tan Yang’s heart sink, as if plunged into ice. Bi Qingtang saw her stiff back, realized he’d misspoken, and hurriedly finished dressing, walking over to embrace her from behind. He laughed, “I was joking! Look at you—about to be a wife, yet still like a child, taking jokes as truth.”

Bi Qingtang was truly happy now, spending the whole afternoon with Tan Yang, talking and laughing, witty and attentive. For half a month, they’d been apart in conflict, but their hearts always missed each other. Now, reconciled and with the wedding imminent, the warmth between them was hard to contain. They stayed in, ate at home, listened to the radio from the phonograph, eager to savor the life of a newly married couple.

Unnoticed, evening arrived—seven or eight o’clock. Tan Yang said she should go home. Bi Qingtang didn’t call for the car, just held her with a smile that made her uneasy. She asked, “Big brother, what are you planning? I need to go!” Bi Qingtang leaned in, voice low, “Little sister, don’t leave—stay tonight!” At the end of his words, Tan Yang heard his heavy breathing, startled, frowning as she pondered, then complained, “Big brother, you’re joking again!” Bi Qingtang stared at her for a long moment, finally sighed and stood up, “Fine, I’m joking. I’ll see you off.”

Back at Tan Yang’s house, they saw two stacks of white cards on her desk—one blank, the other with large characters like “East, South, West, North,” all simple words. Bi Qingtang picked them up and glanced through them, then looked at Tan Yang questioningly. She smiled brightly, “Big brother, recently I’ve been teaching little children to read at the orphanage with my classmates, playing with them. They’re so lovely and well-behaved!” “Oh?” Bi Qingtang replied absentmindedly. Tan Yang continued, describing the children’s antics with animated delight.

As she spoke, Tan Yang looked up to find Bi Qingtang deep in thought, brows knit. She asked, “Big brother, what’s wrong?” Bi Qingtang tossed the cards onto the table and replied half-heartedly, “Little sister, I used to think you couldn’t live without me, but now...” He lowered his head, gazing at the bandages on his hand, lost in melancholy.