Alley of Rain

In the early summer garden, the hush of night lingered, mingling with the fragrance of grass. Tan Yang plucked the strings of her instrument, and the enchanting strains of ancient music flowed and lingered through the Western-style garden, weaving an intricate, dreamlike atmosphere.

After a while, as Tan Yang was about to enter the most crucial part of the piece, Xu Zhizhong finally raised the long flute to his lips and began to play. Unlike the nimble and graceful pipa, the flute’s sound was deep and far-reaching. Under the yellowed lamp, he played calmly, a smile on his face, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled to his elbows, his arm holding the flute slender but strong—lacking any air of frailty, yet exuding a certain resilience.

Bi Qingtang, who had seen countless people in his life, observed Xu Zhizhong’s movements with narrowed eyes and thought to himself that this young man was neither a mere scholar nor a simple musician. Some people become foolish from too much study, while others use learning to conceal their innate defiance. For the latter, education truly becomes cultivation and refinement. With this in mind, Bi Qingtang’s gaze drifted to the sheet of paper on the table, upon which a poem titled “Rainy Alley” was written:

Within the mournful song of the rain,
Her colors faded,
Her fragrance dispersed,
Gone, even her sighing gaze,
Her lilac-like melancholy.
Holding an oil-paper umbrella, alone
I wander in the long, long
And desolate rainy alley,
Hoping to encounter

A girl, sorrowful as lilacs.

The intoxicating melody held everyone in the garden in its thrall. Though summer had only just begun, here the air was already heavy with the poetic romance and cadence of rain. Bi Qingtang bit lightly on his ivory cigarette holder and muttered to himself, “Holding an oil-paper umbrella? A girl like lilacs? Ah, what a tune…”

His thoughts drifted back to seven or eight years before, when he first met her, on a damp morning during the plum rain season. She walked alone through a narrow alley in Tongli, holding an oil-paper umbrella, wearing a blouse of white with purple flowers, her shiny braided hair, her slender figure—a picture as delicate and evocative as an ink wash painting.

The previous night, their fathers had failed to reach an agreement, parting on bitter terms. So, early that morning, he had waited for her along her route to school, intending to abduct her to force her father’s hand—a task his own father, sentimental as he was, could not bring himself to do. It fell to Bi Qingtang, as a dutiful son, to carry out his father’s will.

But in the end, he could not go through with it. The girl, only twelve or thirteen, was too pure and too frail, fragile as a porcelain doll. He believed his change of heart stemmed from his lingering sense of honor—an unwillingness to harm women and children—or perhaps from gratitude for Uncle Tan’s care during his childhood. Yet, looking back now, perhaps it was truly the sight of that lilac hue in the rainy alleyways of Jiangnan that moved him…

When the piece ended, the garden remained silent, everyone lost in reverie. After a long pause, the girl who was meant to recite a poem exclaimed with heartfelt admiration, “It was so beautiful—I forgot to read my poem!” Laughter and conversation followed, and Xu Zhizhong quietly sat behind Tan Yang, having set down his flute. The young people talked and joked, losing track of time. Calls kept coming for Bi Qingtang, who was constantly being summoned away to answer the phone.

Around eleven, Zhang Xiangning and the others gradually took their leave. After seeing the two girls off in the car, Bi Qingtang returned to find Tan Yang sitting with her knees hugged to her chest on a little wicker stool, and Xu Zhizhong crouched before her. Tan Yang spoke animatedly, laughing, while Xu Zhizhong listened silently, head bowed. At last, Tan Yang extended her hand. Xu Zhizhong looked up at her, hesitated for a long moment, then finally reached out to slap her palm in a quiet gesture.

At that moment, Bi Qingtang approached them. Xu Zhizhong stood up, nodded politely to him, and said, “Mr. Bi, sorry to have disturbed you. I’ll be going now.” With that, he turned away and left, his figure shadowed with resignation. Watching him go, Bi Qingtang smirked. “Did you just tell him my family name is Bi? That’s enough to make him so dejected?” Tan Yang took Bi Qingtang’s hand and rose, replying, “I didn’t say your surname was Bi. I only told him I’m Mrs. Bi!”

Bi Qingtang raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So you made him promise to keep your marriage a secret at school, and that’s why you slapped hands, isn’t it?” Tan Yang shook her head, walking step by step toward the house. “He doesn’t want me to be expelled, so even if I hadn’t asked, he’d keep it secret. Our agreement was that if he couldn’t treat me as an ordinary friend, we shouldn’t meet privately anymore.” Bi Qingtang chuckled, stroking his chin. “That’s good—very good.” Tan Yang glanced back at him, smiling. “If I hadn’t made this clear, you’d have lost your temper with Yoko again tonight!” “Do you think I’m so petty and ill-tempered, that I only ever get angry with my wife?” “No, big brother, you’re not angry with me; you’re angry with the flute!” Tan Yang teased mischievously.

The next day at rehearsal, Xu Zhizhong excused himself, claiming family matters, and told Zhang Xiangning he believed he and Tan Yang would perform well together even without rehearsing. The day of the poetry recital fell on a weekend, and Bi Qingtang attended as well. Their performance of “Rainy Alley” was met with unanimous praise, and the principal even awarded them first prize. Afterward, in the school’s assembly hall, Xu Zhizhong somehow found a photographer from a local studio to take commemorative pictures. With his arms folded, he watched as Zhang Xiangning, Tan Yang, and the couple posed, then leisurely positioned himself behind Tan Yang just as the camera flashed.

That moment—the carefree campus, the vibrant youth amid green trees and blooming flowers—was forever captured on film.

After the recital, Bi Qingtang took Tan Yang and prepared to leave by car. Just as they were about to go, Zhang Xiangning ran up and knocked on the window. When he lowered it, she tossed in a slim notebook. “Tan Yang, Xu Zhizhong sent this for you. He insisted you must accept it, since he has no use for it himself. Ah, what a coward—he simply refused to give it to you in person!” With that, she ran off before Tan Yang could call her back.

Gently opening the dark blue cover, Tan Yang saw the elegant small script on the title page: “Compiled and edited by the Xu family, Juefen.” Turning the pages, she was instantly enchanted. “These are pipa scores! Big brother, I want to copy them and return the original to Xu Zhizhong—would that be all right?” Bi Qingtang nodded generously, though inwardly he muttered, That boy still hasn’t given up!

Day after day passed in tranquil happiness. In their leisure, Bi Qingtang lounged on the sofa, eyes half-closed, listening to the radio on the gramophone, while Tan Yang sat on the carpet by the French windows reading, sunlight bathing them both. Tan Yang asked, “Big brother, why do our days feel so much like those of an old married couple?” Bi Qingtang laughed softly, “Silly girl, isn’t it wonderful? As if we’d spent a lifetime in such peace and comfort.”

One October day, Bi Qingtang stood by the office window, smoking as he listened to his subordinates’ reports. Outside, ships moved up and down the Huangpu River, autumn scenery unfurling along both banks. Suddenly the telephone rang. His assistant answered, then covered the receiver, saying, “Boss, it’s Jingye Middle School!” Bi Qingtang, anxious, quickly stubbed out his cigarette and took the call. The voice on the other end was direct: “Are you Tan Yang’s brother? My surname is Li, discipline director at Jingye Middle School. Your sister is involved in an incident here. Please come at once.”

In a panic, Bi Qingtang rushed to the school, desperate to know what had happened to Tan Yang, but Director Li brought him to his office instead. Bi Qingtang tried to go find his sister, but Director Li detained him, earnestly recounting the school’s history and reputation. After ten minutes, Bi Qingtang could no longer bear it. “Director Li, please, just say what you mean. There’s no need to beat around the bush!” Director Li cleared his throat, clearly uneasy. “Mr. Tan, as you know, our school is co-educational—a progressive approach. But it can make management difficult. It depends on the students’ character and self-respect, and the guidance of parents. I’m not trying to shirk the school’s responsibility. When something so disgraceful happens, we must share the blame!”

Bi Qingtang frowned. “Disgraceful? What exactly do you mean, Director Li?” The director sighed, hesitated, then said, “A matter of impropriety between boys and girls, Mr. Tan. What do you think I’m referring to?” At that, Bi Qingtang’s temper flared. He jabbed a finger at Director Li, “Don’t talk nonsense! My sister isn’t that kind of girl! If you dare slander her reputation, I won’t let this go lightly!”

Director Li spread his hands helplessly. “Do you think I want to say such things? As an administrator, this is the last thing I want to see. If we hadn’t caught them in the act, why would I call you? It’s a fact, not something I could invent!” At this, Bi Qingtang’s bravado faded. Face dark, he managed to croak, “Who—who was involved?” Director Li blinked, about to answer, but Bi Qingtang, frantic, blurted out, “Was it Xu Zhizhong? He must have led her astray! Damn it, I’ll kill that little scoundrel!” Saying this, he pulled a pistol from his waistband and flicked off the safety.

Director Li, alarmed, grabbed him in panic. “Mr. Tan, don’t be rash! We don’t even know whose child it is—don’t go looking for trouble!” At these words, Bi Qingtang was stunned. After a long pause, he stammered, “Director Li, when you say disgraceful, do you mean my sister is pregnant?” Director Li nodded helplessly. Bi Qingtang seized his arm, agitated. “Are you sure there’s no mistake?” Director Li sighed, “No mistake. She fainted in class; the school doctor suspected pregnancy. We didn’t believe it, so we brought in an old Chinese physician, who confirmed it—morning sickness.”

From fury to joy, Bi Qingtang could scarcely contain himself. He shook Director Li’s hand, urgent. “Where is my sister now?” Director Li, baffled by his reaction but wary of the loaded gun, replied obediently, “She’s in the school infirmary, west wing, upstairs.” Bi Qingtang dashed out without another word.

Opening the infirmary door, he found Tan Yang lying quietly on a small bed behind a pale blue silk screen. Seeing him, she smiled shyly and sweetly. Bi Qingtang approached, took her hand, and, after a long moment, simply smiled and affectionately called her, “My good girl.” Tan Yang squeezed his thumb, asking softly, “So you know everything?” Bi Qingtang nodded, beaming. “Are you happy?” “Happy!” “Then why are you holding a gun?” she asked, eyeing the pistol in his other hand. Bi Qingtang laughed awkwardly. “Some people thought the child wasn’t mine. I was ready to fight for you!”

Tan Yang giggled. Bi Qingtang took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders. “Let’s go home!” He squatted in front of her, back turned. “Come on, I’ll carry you. Your school’s wooden stairs are too steep! I nearly fell running up here just now!” Tan Yang, resting her head on his shoulder, scolded playfully, “Instead of admitting you were in a hurry, you blame the stairs!”

Bitan Chronicle 3230_ Bitan Chronicle Full Free Read_32 (30) Rainy Alley—completed!