After Escaping Marriage - Chapter 60
Chapter 60
Yu Qingtang raised her hand, touched the coolness on her face, only then realizing she had unknowingly burst into tears.
She wiped away the tears from her chin expressionlessly, her tone flat, "It's nothing."
Adults have their own worries. Her crying wasn't necessarily because of this matter itself. Plus, Yu Qingtang's personality had always been cool and reserved, silent and taciturn. Teacher Zhao didn't pursue it, kindly handing her a tissue.
Yu Qingtang accepted with thanks, asking without any discernible emotion as she walked, "Did she say who that person was to her? Was she asked by someone, or looking for herself?"
"A childhood friend." Teacher Zhao thought for a moment, "Judging by her meaning, it wasn't likely she was asked by someone. Who would look for someone for over ten years on behalf of another?"
Yu Qingtang softly echoed, "Over ten years?"
Teacher Zhao said, "She comes every other week at least, volunteering at the local special education school wherever she goes, just hoping to find her. Knowing the hope is slim, she still can't help but hold onto it, sigh. At six or seven, that must have been twenty years ago. Never mind childhood playmates, I've almost forgotten my junior high classmates."
Teacher Zhao casually sighed about herself, then turned her head to see Yu Qingtang's eyes red-rimmed. A thought arose, and she half-jokingly said, "Qingtang, you couldn't possibly be that Momo, could you?"
She knew Yu Qingtang had studied here before, and was deaf-mute at the time. As for how she recovered, she didn't know the details.
Yu Qingtang denied it quickly, "No."
Teacher Zhao smiled nonchalantly, "I was just saying."
Yu Qingtang had studied at the special education school over twenty years ago. The teaching staff here had mostly changed. This Teacher Zhao had come to the school over ten years ago and hadn't met the young Yu Qingtang. Besides, Yu Qingtang used her official name at school. Anyway, as a "deaf-mute," she couldn't hear anything; what she was called didn't matter.
Yu Qingtang parted ways with Teacher Zhao in the teaching area. Familiar with the place, Yu Qingtang went to find her former teacher and played games with the children.
She stayed at the special education school for dinner, eating with Teacher Wang, who had taught her.
Teacher Wang was in her fifties this year, nearing retirement age. Her long hair was coiled up, black mixed with silver strands, her temples neatly combed. She had always been a gentle and patient person, her temperament growing even more peaceful with the passage of time.
The two ate facing each other, occasionally exchanging a few words, not many, the atmosphere quiet.
Teacher Wang put down her chopsticks, picked up her bowl, drank a mouthful of dumpling soup, and said unhurriedly and gently, "You seem a bit different this time."
Yu Qingtang looked at her.
Teacher Wang said, "You have worries now, and you've become..." Pausing, she said, "More like an ordinary person."
Yu Qingtang wasn't accustomed to nor fond of confiding, even to respected elders. So she just curved her lips slightly, responding politely, not continuing the topic.
Teacher Wang remained unhurried, her tone gentle, "It's a good thing."
She finished the last mouthful of dumpling soup. Yu Qingtang happened to finish eating too. She walked over, silently picked up the shawl draped over the chair back, and draped it over the rising Teacher Wang's shoulders.
Teacher Wang patted the hand resting on her shoulder from behind.
Night permeated the streets. Streetlights cast overlapping halos, dispelling the darkness.
Teacher Wang lived nearby. Yu Qingtang walked her to her doorstep, declined the invitation to come in and sit, then returned to the roadside to catch the bus back to Lipu District.
There weren't many people in the old town. This area wasn't prosperous either. Even on a weekend night, the bus had only a few passengers, each minding their own business. Yu Qingtang found a seat by the window and stared out at the night scenery, letting her mind wander.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket.
Yu Qingtang's eyes moved slowly. She lowered her head towards her trench coat pocket.
She paused for a long while before taking out her phone.
Few people actively sought her out. Outside of work hours, there was almost only one person who frequently sent her messages.
[Cheng Zhanxi]: What did Teacher Yu have for dinner? [Cheng style heart.jpg]
Yu Qingtang typed expressionlessly.
[Yu Qingtang]: Dumplings
[Cheng Zhanxi]: What a coincidence, I had dumplings too.
Immediately, a photo was attached. A plate of plump, white, cute dumplings, accompanied by a vinegar dish and a chili dish.
Likely taken earlier, just waiting to be sent to her, like a golden retriever wagging its tail at its owner.
[Yu Qingtang]: Mine had soup.
[Cheng Zhanxi]: Next time I'll use broth to cook them for you. If you get tired of wontons, we can switch things up.
[Yu Qingtang]: Mm
Before Cheng Zhanxi's next message could arrive, Yu Qingtang typed quickly.
[Yu Qingtang]: I have something to do, talk later.
The "typing..." indicator at the top of the screen disappeared and reappeared. Cheng Zhanxi's message popped up.
[Okay, talk later.]
A tear suddenly fell from her eye, splashing onto the phone screen. Yu Qingtang wiped it with her sleeve, locked the screen, put it face down on her lap, tilted her face up, closed her eyes, her moist lashes trembling slightly.
Cheng Zhanxi finished calling her parents, grandparents, and maternal grandparents. More than half the night had passed.
She poured herself a glass of water to soothe her throat and opened WeChat.
Yu Qingtang's last message was still from past seven.
[Cheng Zhanxi]: Teacher Yu, asleep yet?
Wind blew through the small bamboo grove in the courtyard, entering the second-floor bedroom through the cracked window.
The phone screen on the bedside table lit up. Under the moonlight, the woman on the bed had her eyes tightly closed, her hands gripping the duvet cover, her brow furrowed in uneasy sleep.
Yu Qingtang had gone to bed early today after returning.
She had a long dream, returning to her childhood, that brief period in her black and white life that was uniquely colored.
Yu Qingtang was born in the season of apricot blossoms. After her fifth birthday, she was sent to the countryside. The Wei family assigned a servant to care for her. Initially, the servant treated her adequately. As time passed and the Wei family showed no concern, she gradually became lazy and neglectful. The countryside conditions were harsh. Although the Wei family didn't lack material provisions—food, clothing, necessities, money were all provided—the living environment was vastly different from the city.
The servant had a granddaughter, two or three years younger than Yu Qingtang. At first, clothes sent by the Wei family for Yu Qingtang would mysteriously disappear. Later, Yu Qingtang went a long time without new clothes, having to wear a winter coat with holes to fend off the cold.
She was also ordered to wash her own clothes daily. Her hands developed cracks like cuts from the cold, bleeding with any exertion.
Once, while hanging clothes, she accidentally knocked down the clothesline pole in the courtyard. The servant, emerging from the house, saw this, her eyebrows shot up. She rushed over in three strides, grabbed a hanger from the pole, and whipped it fiercely against her thin arm.
That was the first time Yu Qingtang was hit.
She instinctively flinched from the sharp pain but didn't cry or dodge, standing motionless, looking up calmly at the other person. Her dark pupils were clear, seeming to reflect all the ugliness of the human heart.
The servant regretted the first blow impulsively struck. But being stared at by such indifferent eyes, an inexplicable anger surged within her. The hanger in her hand moved uncontrollably, striking the girl's thin body again and again.
Until she lost control, accidentally hitting Yu Qingtang's face. The girl's small white face instantly turned deathly pale, then red, a high welt swelling up, shockingly visible.
Yu Qingtang still didn't move.
The servant came to her senses, hugged Yu Qingtang, knelt down, crying and apologizing profusely, tears and snot streaming down her face, regardless of whether Yu Qingtang, being a "deaf person," could hear her.
No matter how neglected Yu Qingtang was by the Wei family, she was still a Wei family young miss. What if...
After that incident, the servant behaved for a while, even washing Yu Qingtang's clothes for a few days, providing good food and drink, fearing she would complain to the Wei family. However, nothing happened. Yu Qingtang's injuries healed. The servant waited anxiously for some time; no one from the Wei family came to reprimand her.
The servant reverted to her old ways. Cooped up alone in the countryside, finding the other village women coarse and lacking common language, she vented her resentment on Yu Qingtang, the "culprit" who caused her banishment. She would strike her every few days, each time heavier than the last. Yu Qingtang couldn't speak or hear, didn't even run away. Neighbors naturally couldn't know what she endured in the courtyard.
Yu Qingtang disliked staying in the courtyard, spending her days outside.
The 1990s saw the emergence of large numbers of left-behind children. Many children of similar age lived in the village, mostly raised by grandparents who often spoiled them.
The children gathered together and discovered Yu Qingtang, the anomaly. Children's malice can sometimes be terrifying; they often don't realize they are doing evil, just finding it fun.
They called Yu Qingtang "mute," mimicked her speech, laughing together.
They excluded her, bullied her, deliberately pulled her near a ditch, pushed her in unexpectedly, watching her climb out covered in mud, clapping and laughing on the bank.
No matter how dark life was, one could get used to it after living it long enough.
This life lasted over a year. One summer evening, cicadas shrieked madly in the trees, the sky burning fiery red.
Yu Qingtang was cornered again by that group of children.
Face after face surrounded her, expressions mocking, hands pushing her shoulders.
"Little mute, can't talk."
"Little mute, no parents."
"Little mute, little mute, hahaha."
Yu Qingtang kept her head bowed. She couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything.
The hand pushing her shoulder disappeared. A fruit rolled to her feet.
From the corner of her eye, she saw all the children leave. A pair of small feet appeared in her vision, about the same size as hers, wearing brand new white sneakers, white overalls, a pink electronic watch on one wrist.
Then, a tilted face suddenly entered her field of vision.
That person bent down to look at her.
Long lashes, pinkish-white skin, eyes as clear as glass beads under the sun.
She opened her mouth wide, letting out a "wow," her eyes appearing even more lively.
Yu Qingtang's dark pupils reflected her friendly, curious face. She woodenly lifted her eyelids and left without a word.
Yu Qingtang had been face-blind early on. None of the people who bullied her left an impression, so she rarely thought about these things. Similarly, the person who chased away those children for her didn't leave a deep impression either. She lived in her own quiet, silent world, not communicating with the outside.
Whether this world was good or bad, gentle or fallen, it had nothing to do with her. She disliked it all.
This was just an ordinary episode in her mundane life, quickly forgotten.
Two days later, she encountered the children who took pleasure in tormenting her again.
And encountered that girl again.
She rushed out from the other end of the street, heroically knocking down the boy who was pushing her, straddling him, raising her fist towards his face, but paused mid-air, seemingly hesitating whether to strike.
The boy reacted, flipping her over. Little Cheng Zhanxi rolled in the dirt, becoming dusty.
The two started wrestling on the ground.
Cheng Zhanxi was tall for her age. Girls developed earlier than boys. Plus, she was a mischievous monkey who climbed trees and caught fish daily. Fighting boys, she didn't lose out at all, even gaining the upper hand, beating the boy until he couldn't fight back.
The nearby children watched dumbfounded, until the boy, covering his head and scurrying away, called for help.
A girl and a boy came forward, pulling hair, grabbing arms. Cheng Zhanxi grabbed the girl's braid with one hand, spinning her around, while kicking and punching with her other hand and feet, fighting one against three. She gritted her teeth and shouted to Yu Qingtang, "Go get an adult!"
Little Yu Qingtang looked at her, unresponsive.
Instead, a child from the onlookers snapped back to reality, quickly ran into the nearest courtyard, and called for an adult.
An adult came and separated the four entangled in the fight. Two boys and one girl burst into tears. Cheng Zhanxi wiped the dirt from her face, walked to Yu Qingtang, smiled at her. The movement pulled at the cut on her lip, making her grimace in pain, yet she still shrugged nonchalantly, her expression light, embodying the spirit of a knight errant helping the weak.
Little Yu Qingtang glanced at her indifferently and left without looking back.
Little Cheng Zhanxi: "..."
Little Cheng Zhanxi grimaced, sucked in a breath of cold air, didn't dare touch the wound on her lip, followed her from afar back to her home, then turned back towards her grandparents' house.
The third time Yu Qingtang was bullied by the children, Cheng Zhanxi grabbed a broom and swiftly swept away the group like fallen leaves.
After everyone scattered like birds and beasts, she leaned on the broom, smiling at Yu Qingtang, "Don't I look like the Shaolin sweeping monk?"
Yu Qingtang: "..."
She still gave no response, leaving silently.
But from then on, this road had a little patrolling police officer. Walking on the road, Yu Qingtang no longer had to worry about being suddenly blocked, pulled into a ditch, and returning home covered in mud. She could freely space out, look at the sky, squat down to watch ants moving house, watch dragonflies skimming the lake surface, blue and white butterflies dancing around flowers.
Whenever she turned back, that person was always behind her.
She picked a bouquet of wildflowers from the roadside and gave it to her.
She actually wanted to give her a butterfly too, but the butterfly flew away when she tried to catch it.
"For me?" The girl pointed at herself in surprise, her eyes wide, seemingly unable to believe it.
Yu Qingtang nodded.
The girl accepted it solemnly, unable to stop smiling, "Thank you."
Yu Qingtang felt her smile was more beautiful than all the butterflies combined.
So she smiled too.
She took her up the mountain, picked wild fruits, caught fish. The two stood barefoot on the pebbles, cool stream water flowing between their toes, splashing water at each other.
The girl laughed loudly.
Yu Qingtang's face was covered in splashed water droplets. Closing her eyes, she smiled silently too, the corners of her lips turned up very high.
She learned simple sign language, tirelessly gesturing to her. But she still talked a lot every day, chattering excitedly from the moment they met until sunset, gesturing wildly, seemingly unconcerned whether she could hear.
Yu Qingtang used her ears actively for the first time, no longer deliberately blocking out external sounds. But soon she found her genuinely noisy, so she listened intermittently.
She drew a picture of her on the mountain. It didn't look like her at all, but Yu Qingtang liked it very much, treasuring it, hiding it under her pillow.
Summer vacation ended quickly. She said she had to go back to school, see you next holiday.
She also said that once she formally learned painting, she would draw a picture that truly looked like her and give it to her.
The day she left, Yu Qingtang hid in the crowd, not letting her see.
But as the extended black sedan drove away from the village, she stood by the roadside at the village end, crying until she couldn't breathe.
After that, Yu Qingtang hid in her room every night, softly and arduously learning how to speak, wanting to tell her her name personally next time they met.
She doesn't like this world, but she likes Cheng Zhanxi.
However, she never got to say this sentence.
That winter, her maternal grandparents, entrusted by Wei Tingyu, brought her back to Sicheng to raise.
Twenty years flowed by in a hurry.
The colorful memories faded to black and white, like an untouchable, distant dream buried by wind and sand. Only the taste of ginger milk curd lingered in her childhood memory, awakening the dust-covered summer in the long river of time.
Scene after scene flashed through her mind like a revolving lantern. Yu Qingtang's fingers, gripping the duvet cover, tightened until they turned white.
With a heavy breath, she opened her eyes and woke up.
Wind blew through the window lattice; outside was pitch black.
Yu Qingtang picked up her phone to check the time: 4 AM.
The notification interface still had messages from Cheng Zhanxi, lying quietly in the message box.
10:30 PM
[Cheng Zhanxi]: Teacher Yu, asleep yet?
Yu Qingtang poured herself a glass of water, returned, turned on the desk lamp, and typed her reply: [Woke up.]
Afterwards, Yu Qingtang turned the message notification to ring mode, sat at the desk, opened her computer, and looked through materials shared by the math department teachers.
Outside the house was quiet, only the sound of wind passing through the bamboo.
Yu Qingtang stopped typing, closed her eyes, quietly listening to the sound of the wind for a while, her expression peaceful.
Cheng Zhanxi's biological clock was very healthy. On Sunday morning, she replied before six.
[Cheng Zhanxi]: Woke up at four? Did you sleep last night?
[Yu Qingtang]: Barely managed half the night.
Cheng Zhanxi had just put the porridge on to cook, planning to drink it after her morning run. Walking towards the bedroom, she pressed the voice message button with one hand, "Is your energy okay?"
Yu Qingtang listened to the voice message three times before typing: [Alright.]
Cheng Zhanxi subconsciously frowned. Yu Qingtang's "alright" was equivalent to "mm," both lacking actual meaning. She had to see her in person to be reassured.
Cheng Zhanxi checked the time on her phone. It would be at least fourteen hours before Yu Qingtang returned.
She sighed, pressed and held the voice button again, "I'm going out for a run."
[Yu Qingtang]: I'm going to make breakfast.
[Cheng Zhanxi]: I cooked porridge.
Yu Qingtang saw this message downstairs and decided to have porridge for breakfast too.
Winter days dawned late. Fang Wenjiao woke up at seven. Coming out of her room, the living room was filled with the aroma of porridge. A figure stood with her back to her in the kitchen.
Fang Wenjiao pulled open the kitchen door. Yu Qingtang wore an apron. Various ingredients were laid out on the counter beside her. She was currently kneading a smooth, glossy dough. As Fang Wenjiao entered, she placed the dough in a basin, covered it with plastic wrap to let it rise, and turned to handle the filling.
She was so focused she didn't even notice Fang Wenjiao enter.
Fang Wenjiao called out, "Momo."
Yu Qingtang turned upon hearing the sound, saying, "Grandma, I plan to steam some soup dumplings."
Was it Fang Wenjiao's imagination? She saw a faint smile at the corners of Yu Qingtang's lips.
Fang Wenjiao: "Need my help?"
Yu Qingtang: "No need, I can handle it myself."
Fang Wenjiao opened her mouth, wanting to say something more. Yu Qingtang gently urged, "Go watch TV for a while, it'll be ready soon." Her voice carried an imperceptible softness.
Fang Wenjiao smiled, "Alright, alright, I'll wait to taste your cooking then."
This was the first time she had made soup dumplings.
Fang Wenjiao believed in Yu Qingtang's culinary talent. Watching her mix the filling, she already felt her mouth watering, turning back repeatedly as she left.
Yu Qingtang finished preparing the filling, rolled the wrappers extremely thin. After rolling a few, she wiped her hands, took out her phone from her pocket, seriously watched a tutorial video five times before starting to practice.
The first few were barely acceptable. Later, she became increasingly skilled, looking quite professional, successfully pinching out eighteen pleats.
The top layer of the steamer held novice works of varying sizes, the bottom layer displayed the eighteen-pleated "master" creations. Yu Qingtang covered the lid and turned on the gas stove. A blue flame leaped up.
8 AM.
Yu Qingtang carefully picked out the soft, steamed soup dumplings with chopsticks and placed them on the table.
Fang Wenjiao eagerly picked one up, blew on it, and took a small bite. Thin skin, large filling, juicy and delicious. A little minced ginger in the meat filling added flavor, fresh and fragrant.
After Yu Qingtang's hearing "recovered," she began buying groceries at the market like many children who manage the household early. She started cooking in her teens. Her first attempt made Fang Wenjiao suspect her own decades in the kitchen were wasted. Due to busy studies, she didn't cook often. When at home, she only made simple home-style dishes, never deliberately learning new recipes. Breakfast items like soup dumplings were never considered; at most, she'd cook porridge and mix a cucumber salad.
Fang Wenjiao knew her cooking would be delicious, but hadn't expected it to be so good she almost swallowed her tongue.
Grandfather tasted it, offering a stern, objective critique, "Besides the appearance being a bit lacking, the taste deserves full marks."
While he maintained his image, Fang Wenjiao had already eaten two in succession.
Grandfather tutted, "Eat slower, no one's fighting you for it."
Saying this, he immediately picked up his chopsticks. First come, first served.
Yu Qingtang only got one of the dumplings she made herself; the rest were eaten by the elders. After breakfast, both felt stuffed. Fang Wenjiao pushed the wheelchair, taking Grandfather to a nearby park for a walk to aid digestion.
Yu Qingtang saw them out the courtyard gate, watched the elders' figures disappear at the end of the alley, then turned back inside.
Her steps quickened, almost running.
She took a lunchbox, lifted the steamer lid. Her heart pounded wildly. Glancing towards the door, she quickly picked out the soup dumplings from the lower layer with chopsticks, placed them in the lunchbox, closed the lid tightly, rushed upstairs, her footsteps heavy on the stairs.
After doing all this, she went into the courtyard, took the broom leaning against the wall, and swept the fallen leaves.
Sweeping, she looked at the broom in her hand. Unsure what she thought of, the corners of her lips gently curved.
The courtyard gate was tightly shut. Seeing no one around, she tentatively lifted the broom, waved it twice in the air, instantly stirring up dust.
Caught off guard, Yu Qingtang choked and coughed twice, covering her mouth and nose as she stepped back. Only after the dust settled did she resume sweeping the ground properly.
She returned to her second-floor room, pulled open the drawer, looked at the hidden lunchbox, closed the drawer again, spread her fingers to pinch her own face, stopping the irrepressible smile, then focused on continuing the work left unfinished this morning.
Fang Wenjiao and Grandfather returned after strolling for over two hours. Yu Qingtang was already preparing lunch.
Fang Wenjiao entered the kitchen, "Momo."
Yu Qingtang turned back.
Fang Wenjiao: "Are there any leftover dumplings from the morning? Let's heat some up for lunch?"
Yu Qingtang remained expressionless.
"None left."
Author's note:
Short skit:
Yu Qingtang: First, feed you dumplings.
Cheng Chengzi: And then?
Yu Qingtang: Let you eat me (//▽//)
Comments
Post a Comment