CH 12.1

Luo Qi couldn’t drive after drinking but didn’t look for a substitute driver. Instead, after Jiang Sixun and the others left, she headed to a nearby station, planning to take the subway.

“Chief Jiang, Assistant Luo didn’t drive.” The driver looked at Jiang Shenghe from the rearview mirror and asked the boss for instructions, “Should I pull over?”

Jiang Shenghe also saw Luo Qi walking on the sidewalk. The shadows of the trees were dancing on both sides of the road, and her face could not be clearly seen unless he looked carefully.

Looking out the window, he replied to the driver in a quiet voice, “No need.”

The car sped by.

Jiang Shenghe looked away.

“Go home,” he told the driver.

No matter how busy he was, every month, Jiang Shenghe went home to see his mother—provided that his father was not there at the time.

His father was too controlling, and he avoided encountering him as much as he could.

The yard was deep and quiet, and Jiang Shenghe heard the faint sounds of the piano being played when he got out of the car.

After entering the villa, the auntie told him that his mother was in the piano room.

The piano room was soundproof, but the windows were open, and the sound of the piano he heard just now drifted from the open windows. His mother had been a professional pianist. Now she was a professor at the Conservatory of Music, hired after she retired.

His mother was very self-disciplined. Even now, she insisted on practicing the piano for several hours every day and never slacked off.

Jiang Shenghe knocked on the door and pushed it open.

Liang Zhen was sitting in front of a black grand piano, wearing a royal blue satin dress, with her hair coiled up—a picture of elegance and nobility.

She gestured with her chin towards the stool next to the piano, motioning for her son to sit down. The sounds from the piano continued without stopping.

She was almost done with the evening’s practice, and was about to stop and go to sleep, but her youngest son came. She and this child had nothing to say to each other, so she could only play another piece.

Sometimes she could still chat with the eldest son and the second son, but she couldn’t talk to the youngest son at all. It could be said that half a sentence was too much1.

The eldest son and the second son were born twins. The arrival of the younger son was an accident. She was not in good health at the time, and she was not allowed not to have him, so he was born.

She was not a qualified mother. She was strict and impatient with her children, and spent all her time and effort on the music career that was her life.

The eldest son and the second son had her parents to help take care of their upbringing in the beginning, so she hardly had to worry about it. But when her youngest son was born, her parents were already too old and couldn’t keep up with his energy, so she had to leave him to the nanny.

After Jiang Yueru got divorced, she took her youngest son home to play with Jiang Sixun.

As far as she, the mother, was concerned, the three children were similar to being raised free-range, and to this day, they were not close to her.

When this child was young, she had piano tours, and it was not uncommon for her not to see this child for several months. It was different back then—not like now when you could video call at any time. After a long time, this child stopped missing her, had become wary of her, and didn’t even dare to act coquettishly in front of her.

There was no communication, no keeping company. She had no desire to control this child, and this child had no dependence on her. Over time, the relationship between her and this child became polite and alienated.

After so many years, they have long become accustomed to this way of getting along.

The eldest son and second son have already married, and whenever they were free, the whole family would come to see her and have a meal with her. Only Jiang Shenghe’s marriage had not yet been settled.

Perhaps she bothered him whenever she urged him to go on a blind date, so Jiang Shenghe seldom ate at home and only came over at night to listen to her play the piano.

The song was over.

Liang Zhen smelled alcohol. “Went drinking tonight?”

“Yeah. Someone had a birthday and we had a drink.” Jiang Shenghe stood up, “Mom, you should go rest.”

Liang Zhen also got up and sent her son out.

Looking sideways at her son, “Has your dad called you recently?”

“No.”

“Your dad is free to come back during the Mid-Autumn Festival, will you go home for dinner that day?”

“I’m not necessarily in the country then,” Jiang Shenghe prevaricated. In the living room, he stopped his mother, “Mom, go back upstairs; I’ll go ahead.”

“Tell the driver to drive slowly.”

Jiang Shenghe agreed and left quickly.

Going home was like punching a card: sit for a few minutes, punch the card, and prove that you have been back.

… …

In a blink of an eye, it was September 22nd: Luo Qi’s birthday.

The first thing she did when she opened her eyes, she turned on her phone and checked WeChat. Pei Shixiao still hasn’t wished her a ‘happy birthday’.

She stayed up and waited until the early morning, but she didn’t receive his greetings.

For the first time in 10 years, not only did he miss celebrating her birthday with her, but he didn’t even send a greeting.

FOOTNOTES:

1The full idiomatic phrase is ‘a thousand cups of wine are too few for a bosom friend, but half a sentence is too much if you don’t share the same view.” It means when views are irreconcilable, it’s a waste of breath to continue the discussion, so just keep silent. ↩︎

T/N: The Jiang family situation is so fascinating—it’s complex but not dog blood complicated.