Old Friends

Tan Yang’s preparations for the hospital went surprisingly smoothly. When she went to the authorities to process the paperwork, everything was completed in a single morning. As she planned to purchase medicines and equipment, reliable suppliers soon came knocking at her door. When she wanted to find an assistant for Liu Fazhu, Zhao Ling brought over three or four young people, saying she hoped they could learn Western medicine, and that as long as Tan Yang dared to accept them, they were hers to teach. Before the grand opening, Fang Ya bought her a full-page advertisement in the newspaper, running for a week straight. Even the hospital’s signboard was inscribed and signed by Director Ma of Baolong Hospital.

It was as if someone handed her a pillow the moment she felt sleepy—divine assistance, indeed.

In this early summer, as the fine rain had just stopped and the sun shone brightly, the “Tan Family Western Hospital” opened amid the thunderous sound of firecrackers and drums.

The opening need not have been so lively, but Fang Ya loved excitement and a grand spectacle. She took it upon herself to bring in her dance hall’s band and even invited a troupe for a lion dance. Here, musicians in bow ties and tailcoats played joyful tunes; there, gongs and drums resounded while two lions battled fiercely. It was a riotous fusion of East and West, neither one nor the other, but bustling with energy.

Fang Ya also had a large plaque carried over. She urged Tan Yang to unveil the red cloth, revealing four bold golden characters—“Guests Like Clouds.” Tan Yang, both amused and exasperated, asked why it wasn’t “Healing Hands Restore Spring” or “Hanging the Jar to Aid the World.” Fang Ya covered her mouth with a coquettish smile, saying those were the marks of traditional medicine—she wouldn’t dare display them. Tan Yang shook her head with a bitter smile, directing the plaque to be placed in Lin Zhiju’s maternity ward. After all, when welcoming new life, more was always merrier.

No sooner had the firecrackers faded than a few patients arrived—minor ailments like headaches and fevers, grateful for the medicine before departing with thanks. One was more dramatic: a woman, unconscious, was brought in. Wu En, flashlight in hand, was about to examine her pupils when she suddenly sat up, declared herself cured, and ran outside, shouting to the world that the doctors here were more miraculous than immortals. Some curious onlookers at the entrance, easily swayed, decided to come in to see about their old aches and pains.

Tan Yang watched the scene and helplessly asked Fang Ya if these were also part of her help. Fang Ya blinked and muttered ambiguously, “Well, help to the end, right?”

By noon, as Fang Ya was about to leave, Tan Yang made a point to see her out. Tan Yang was full of gratitude, but Fang Ya kept shaking her head, thinking for a long time before saying, “Oh, I’m afraid I’ve gained an undeserved reputation! Don’t thank me; the one thing I truly should have helped you with, I failed.” Seeing the guilt on Fang Ya’s face, Tan Yang sighed, “That’s him. He won’t listen to others’ advice. He says if I leave him, I’ll never see my daughter again. If I don’t return, he won’t grant me that mercy. I shouldn’t have hoped for it.”

Tan Yang turned her head aside, gazing at the pale yellow sandy wall where fresh tendrils climbed, their tiny green leaves trembling in the wind like the wings of insects. As she stared, her eyes blurred, and she forced them wide to keep tears from falling.

Fang Ya, oblivious to this, laughed, “Then just go back! I see he has no other woman, hasn’t changed his heart, still loves you, still cares for you. What’s the big deal? You’re too scholarly, always overthinking! Even if you overthink, you still need a man in your life. Qingtang is wonderful; trust me, I’ve searched all over Shanghai and couldn’t find a man who cherishes you more…”

Fang Ya rambled on, when suddenly Tan Yang erupted, voice hoarse, “Fang Ya! If it were you, would you return to a man who schemed for your wealth, harmed your family, and live with him for the rest of your days? Worse still, what if he was your father’s killer?” When Tan Yang turned, Fang Ya saw her eyes brimming with tears, and the sorrow and anger on her face made Fang Ya’s heart clench.

Fang Ya stood there, stunned, incredulous yet suddenly enlightened. She kept repeating, “How could that be, how is it possible,” but in her heart, she believed it. No one knew better than Fang Ya what kind of people Bi Qingtang and his father were. Soon, she fell silent, standing face to face with Tan Yang on the roadside. The early summer breeze brushed their faces—the only movement in this deadened world. Even this slight wind made their eyes sting, their hearts heavy.

It’s impossible to say how long they stood there, but eventually Fang Ya wiped away her usual playful demeanor and said earnestly, “Yang, it was reckless of me. You’ve suffered, endured injustice. As for your daughter, I’ll help you think of a solution. If all else fails, we’ll take Qingtang to court. I’ll find you a lawyer. Just days ago, a friend told me of a lawyer—capable, courageous, well-connected, ambitious, and unafraid of powerful figures like Qingtang.”

Tan Yang lowered her head and quietly asked, “Can I really hope to win a lawsuit against Bi Qingtang in Shanghai? Fang Ya, even I think it’s out of reach, how can you…”

Fang Ya reached for the tendril leaves on the wall, gazing at Tan Yang with a knowing smile, “Who said you have to win? For someone like Qingtang, reputation is everything. If you fight for custody, make a scene, whether you win or not, he’s already lost a round. And,” Fang Ya paused, staring deeply at Tan Yang, “I think he’s not resigned. He only admits you’re quarrelling, but he avoids the word ‘divorce’ like the plague, won’t even let me mention it. Would he let this affair become known all over town? The moment he sees trouble brewing, he’ll want to settle things quietly!”

Tan Yang parted from Fang Ya and returned to the hospital. That afternoon, several mothers brought their children for treatment. The little ones ran and cried in the consulting room, noisy and crowded, gradually filling Tan Yang’s empty heart.

Tan Yang had expected the hospital to be a slow business, relying on word of mouth and reputation, with little hope for immediate success. Yet, until closing, she and Wu En never lacked patients. Liu Fazhu treated someone who’d gotten their head split in a fight; Lin Zhiju admitted a pregnant accountant for observation. Tan Yang reflected that the hospital was well-situated, Fang Ya had created enough spectacle, and the four doctors were all skilled. Truly, they had time, place, and people on their side.

As evening fell, Tan Yang tidied her things and made one last round upstairs and down. Just as she was about to go home, she saw a woman standing at the hospital entrance, wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat and a water-blue dress. The hat’s brim was pulled low, shading her eyes, but her sharp nose and lively, cheerful smile could be seen.

“Xiang Ning!” Tan Yang almost blurted out, her voice filled with uncontrollable surprise and joy.

Zhang Xiang Ning took off her hat, revealing short hair just above her ears. She smiled and threw her arm around Tan Yang’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, didn’t expect me, did you?” Tan Yang gripped her hand and nodded happily.

Xiang Ning grinned, “Yang, my grand Director Tan! I saw the newspaper yesterday after returning to the country, reporting that Ms. Tan Yang was opening a Western hospital. I meant to come early and support you, but I was so hopeless—I overslept and my dad dragged me off for a lecture, scolding me from noon to now!” She stuck out her tongue.

Usually, when two close friends are together, one is mischievous and lively, the other gentle and mature, like an older sister. Tan Yang was always the latter. She laughingly tapped Xiang Ning’s nose, “A Cambridge PhD back from abroad, and yet you’re just the same as in Jingye Middle School—spoiled! Lazy! Getting scolded by your father! How did you ever finish your studies in architecture?”

Xiang Ning chuckled and brushed Tan Yang’s hand aside, “I’m not as lucky as you. Boss Bi always spoiled you, sent you to study, sent you abroad, and now, after finishing school, he opens a hospital for you as a treat.” As she spoke, Xiang Ning sized up the hospital building, clicking her tongue in admiration.

Tan Yang withdrew her hand, forced a smile, and tried to speak gently, “I’m already divorced from him.” She avoided looking at Xiang Ning’s incredulous expression, but in her heart, she sighed deeply.

That day, after leaving the hospital, Tan Yang and Xiang Ning returned to Jingye Middle School. At a small stall nearby, they ate the snacks they’d loved during their school days. Amid the crowd of students after school, they felt as though they’d returned to the carefree days of their youth.

On the way there and while eating, Xiang Ning seemed several times about to ask, worried for Tan Yang, but afraid to bring up painful memories. Tan Yang noticed and stirred the noodles in her bowl, saying, “You don’t need to ask. I may not be happy now, but I’ll keep living. There’s no possibility between us anymore—I’ve hardened my heart and am just muddling through.”

Xiang Ning propped her chopsticks, frowned, and gently probed, “He broke your heart, didn’t he?” Tan Yang knew she misunderstood, but didn’t want to explain, so she nodded. Xiang Ning threw down her chopsticks in irritation, “Just as they say, men are never reliable!”

Tan Yang shook her head helplessly; her story hadn’t fallen into cliché, but was far sadder than any cliché. She tried to cheer up, teasing Xiang Ning, “Enough about me—it’s not happy. What about you? You insisted on breaking off your engagement before returning; did you meet someone in England?”

Xiang Ning shook her head like a rattle drum, “You sound just like my dad! No, in England all those years, I studied and traveled to see architecture from other countries. I had some male friends, playmates, even suitors, but I found all that romance sickening. Maybe I’ve seen too many breakups and reunions—my heart feels old, and it all seems meaningless.”

Tan Yang knew Xiang Ning’s old habit was acting up again: naive and playful, immature in matters of the heart, yet she always posed as an expert in love. Tan Yang didn’t expose her, just asked, “When your father asked why you wanted to break off the engagement, did you tell him that? Is that why you were scolded all afternoon?”

Xiang Ning waved impatiently, “How could I tell him such intimate things? I just said I opposed arranged marriages—they’re a backward step for civilization!”

“What did your father say?”

“He threatened me, said since I broke the engagement, he could guarantee any husband I found myself wouldn’t be as good as the one he chose. If I ended up crying and pounding the floor in regret, I shouldn’t come to him for help!”

“Well, now I’m curious—what kind of person was your ex-fiancé?”

“He was the son of my father’s colleague, an old family from Suzhou, with a textile factory in the city, land outside. He was the only son, loved learning, loved reading. When I was studying in Suzhou, he said he liked me and proposed to my family. My father was very pleased, said politics and military are unstable, best to marry into a solid family, sensible elders, a diligent boy who can earn his living, and, on top of that, he admires me. It was all just right for him!”

“To be honest, it sounds quite good, Xiang Ning! Many marriages chosen by parents turn out happy; elders do see further than we do.” Tan Yang looked at Xiang Ning seriously, choosing her words carefully.

“You think I’m so foolish? No, I didn’t refuse right away! I have some sense. I got my brother to secretly check him out at school, but my brother said he was a bookworm, only cared about reading, and even in the heat of summer, sat in a stuffy room cradling a rabbit! And that’s not all—his name even had the character ‘dull’ in it, really! He was the dullest, most foolish person!” Tan Yang looked at Xiang Ning in disbelief as she continued, “I got scared, so I applied to study abroad in England. Even when I missed home, I didn’t return, forcing my dad to break off the engagement!”

Nearly ten years had passed, each with their own experiences, yet true friends, no matter how far apart or how long separated, always picked up as if yesterday’s parting was only today, without barriers, hearts still close and in tune.

After eating, it was late. The streetlights cast wavering shadows beneath the trees, and rain began to fall. They bought a newspaper to shield their heads and hurried to catch the tram.

At this hour, in this weather, few pedestrians remained. Only the two of them rode the tram, sitting in the last row. Accompanied by the crisp bell, the tram rolled gently through Shanghai’s summer night. Raindrops tapped against the windows as Tan Yang leaned against the glass, gazing outside. Her breath fogged the pane, and she lifted a hand to draw, stroke by stroke, a little girl with two braids, big eyes, and a sweet smile. When finished, Tan Yang let her hand fall, murmuring, “Rain is good—just don’t thunder. My girl is so afraid of thunder.”

Xiang Ning heard this and kindly offered, “Why don’t you bring her over now? I’ll go with you!” Tan Yang shook her head, “He won’t let me see my daughter.” “What?” Xiang Ning’s face was shocked and angry. Tan Yang replied firmly, “It’s only temporary. I’ll fight for her, at any cost.”

Xiang Ning said fiercely, “So that’s what kind of man he is—shameless! Cold-hearted! No wonder everyone says he’s the kingpin of Shanghai’s underworld. We were fools, thinking he was good! At least good to you!” Tan Yang said nothing, leaning helplessly against Xiang Ning’s shoulder, letting her tears flow as freely as the rain outside.

After a while, Xiang Ning sighed and gently comforted Tan Yang, “Yang, we’re young; mistakes are inevitable. We can’t always judge people right. But at least, once made, we won’t repeat them. For example, if you had to go through your past again, meet Bi Qingtang again, you’d never fall in love with him. That’s progress, that’s maturity!”

Tan Yang slowly straightened, forced a bitter smile, “Not necessarily—the ending might be the same.” Xiang Ning looked at her, puzzled, as Tan Yang explained, “There’s always someone in this world you can’t help loving. Even knowing this love is poisonous, you still drink it, even if it kills you. Perhaps that’s true love: you’d rather die than not try.”

Xiang Ning thought it over, then sighed deeply. “Someone told me true love is like wandering through beautiful scenery, brushing past flowers and willows, gazing at distant palaces, then rushing recklessly inside. Even when you know those ornate halls aren’t your home, not your true haven, you linger, unable to pull yourself away. Not until dusk, when you’re swept out the door, do you realize you’ve forgotten the way back.”

Tan Yang listened intently, nodding, then asked, “Who said that?” Xiang Ning turned and smiled, blurting out, “Xu Zhizhong!”

A few days later, Fang Ya arranged for Tan Yang to meet the lawyer in a Russian-owned café. Led upstairs by a blonde woman in colorful Russian dress, Tan Yang entered a private room. The refined gentleman, seated with his back to the door, stood up upon her arrival. He turned, adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, and was so astonished he couldn’t speak.

Tan Yang could only shake her head and smile. “What a small world, Mr. Hu. I never expected that the famous lawyer Fang Ya introduced would be you!”