Chapter 3
Edward Quan ·
“You simply think those things beneath you.
“A length of cloth, a hairpin, a man's favor—none of it matters to you.
“You want something else.”
I lowered my head without a word.
“I don't know what it is you want.
“But I know you'll get it.
“Because you see more clearly than anyone.”
Grandmother tightened her grip on my hand.
“People who see clearly don't lose.”
She recovered from that illness.
She lived another eight years, watching me turn eighteen, twenty, then twenty-three.
Watching me become an old maid no one dared marry.
Mother worried so much her hair turned white.
Father, on the other hand, wasn't worried at all. Whenever Mother complained, he would say, “What's the hurry? If she can't find a husband, we'll keep her.”
“For how long?”
“Until we die.”
Mother was so angry she ignored him for three days.
Only when he bought her a jade bracelet did she relent.
When I was twenty, A-Fu was twelve.
One day, he sidled up to me, all secrecy.
“Sister, there's a girl I like.”
“Oh.”
“Aren't you going to ask who?”
“Who?”
“Vice Minister Li's second daughter. Next door.”
“Oh.”
He grew impatient.
“Sister, aren't you going to say anything?”
“Such as?”
“That you support me. That you'll help me. That—”
“A-Fu.”
He stopped at once.
“Your liking her is your business. Whether she likes you is hers. Whether you can marry her is Father's. My support won't change anything.”
A-Fu stared.
After a while, he said, “You're right.”
Then he left.
The next day, he came back.
“Sister, I've thought it through.”
“Thought what through?”
“I'll ask whether she likes me first.”
“How?”
“I'll write a letter.”
“Go ahead.”
He spent all night on it.
The next day, he brought it to me for corrections.
I read it through.
“No. Start again.”
He wrote it again.
“No. Start again.”
Five drafts later, he finally had a decent letter.
“All right. Send it.”
“How?”
“Find someone trustworthy to deliver it.”
“Who?”
“Yourself.”
He stared.
“Me? What if her father sees me?”
“Then let him see you.”
His eyes widened.
“A-Fu, if you really want to marry her, you'll have to get past her father sooner or later. Sooner or later, you still have to do it. Better make it sooner.”
He thought for a long time.
“You're right.”
Then he actually went.
Vice Minister Li stared at the sight of him.
A-Fu stood right outside the door and handed over the letter.
“Uncle Li, I've written to your second daughter. Please read it.”
Vice Minister Li had nothing to say.
He read the letter, looked A-Fu over, and finally said, “Come in.”
A-Fu went in.
Two hours later, he came out with a bright red face.
“How did it go?”
“Uncle Li said he'd think about it.”
“Then there's hope.”
“Really?”
“Really. If there weren't, he'd have thrown you out long ago.”
A-Fu jumped for joy.
He was twelve that year. The girl he liked was eleven.
Later, she really did marry him.
But that came afterward.
5.
When I was twenty-two, Mother finally resigned herself.
She stopped nagging me about marriage and found something else to nag about.
“A-Ning, you ought to have some sort of occupation.”
“I do.”
“What?”
“Helping Father review official papers.”
Mother stared.
Beside her, Father gave a dry cough.
She looked at him.
“It's true,” he said.
“When did this start?”
“When I was sixteen.”
“You've been doing it for eight years?”
“Yes.”
Mother was silent for a long time.
Finally, she asked, “And... have you spotted any problems?”
“Yes.”
“What problems?”
“Half of Father's written comments are useless words.”
The teacup nearly fell from Father's hand.
Mother looked at him, then at me, and finally laughed.
“A-Ning, you really don't spare your father's pride.”
“Yes, I do. I didn't say the other half was useless too.”
Father fell silent.
Mother laughed so hard she couldn't straighten up.
It was the first time I'd ever seen her laugh so happily.
And the first time I realized I could make her happy.