Leo argued. His parents fought back. Leo became angrier, and found himself raising his voice for the first time in years. This might have been another reason why he had avoided coming home. He was wrong. What kind of unrealistic expectations had he brought with him here today? His parents were at an age where they had become stubborn, and no matter how forward-thinking they might have been ten, twenty years ago, now they were too proud and old-fashioned even to link their bank accounts to their phone apps for fear of their money being stolen. Too set in their own ways to turn on the air purifier that Leo had bought them, throwing their windows open every day to let in what they still believed to be ‘fresh air’.
Jia Jia returned, and as she strode into the room, bringing a gust of cold with her, the family stopped quarrelling. Leo could tell that Jia Jia had something on her mind, just as she could most likely sense the tense atmosphere around the tea table.
‘Let’s go,’ Leo said, grabbing their coats.
‘But it’s only ten—’ his mother began.
‘Take some snacks with you,’ his father said.
But Leo had stopped listening and stormed out, holding Jia Jia’s wrists and squeezing them too hard.
In the car, Leo asked Jia Jia what her phone call had been about.
‘Things are a bit complicated,’ Jia Jia said.
‘What things?’
‘I’m just a bit worried,’ she said, refusing to look at him.
‘Yes, I can tell, but what happened?’
‘I’ll have to see my aunt soon. Don’t worry about it.’
‘For Christ’s sake!’ He gripped the wheel hard with both hands. ‘I’ve asked you three times already, just answer my question.’
‘Why are you angry?’ Jia Jia sat up from the seat and turned to face him. Her voice was loud. ‘Because I told your parents about Chen Hang? Should I be ashamed about my husband’s death? Should I feel sorry for ruining your family gathering? This is who I am, and to be with me, you’ll have to accept the fact that I’m a widow.’
‘We could’ve told them at another time.’ He took a deep breath.
‘So you are ashamed—’
‘No.’
‘Don’t you lie to me.’
Jia Jia glared at him. He stared straight ahead. From the corner of his eye, he could see that the New Year’s fireworks flecked her face in different colours, making her look as if she had scales on her cheeks. Her hair was falling loose. She kept her eyes locked on him, and Leo sensed a resolve in her that he had not seen before. She had never looked at him like that; her glances had always been fleeting. At times, she would be playful, or sensual, and at other times, she would be distant and elusive. But here in the car, watching him, she had her mind set on something.
It was the first time that she had told him what she wanted from him. Don’t lie to me.
But he could not give her the truth that she demanded. He asked himself whether he was indeed embarrassed about bringing home a woman whom he knew, deep inside, his parents would not accept. While he drove past all the bright apartments and the dark offices, he thought about how much he wanted to crack open her defences as she sat there next to him, to learn about her insecurities. This woman whose past he barely knew anything about.
‘You’ve never told me those stories about your mother,’ he said.
‘What’s the point of talking about those who are not around any more?’
‘I just want to understand you better, Jia Jia, to know how you’re feeling. I don’t know who you are.’ His voice filled the car and rang in his own ears. ‘You won’t let me know who you are.’
She turned and looked out the window at the fireworks, and for a moment those muted explosions were the only sounds.
‘How can you really know someone?’ she said finally. ‘Even if I take my heart out, dissect it into pieces, and explain each piece in intricate detail to you – in the end, I would still have to stuff the whole damn thing back into my own chest.’
For the rest of the journey back, they remained silent. Once, near Dongzhimen, Leo had to brake suddenly as a child ran out across the street. He dropped Jia Jia off in front of her apartment. She smiled at him before getting out of his car. It was a regretful, tender and sad smile.
She drew her coat tight, walked towards the building, and did not look back.
7
While Jia Jia was on the phone outside Leo’s parents’ apartment, her aunt had told her that Li Chang had been detained on charges of bribery. He had gifted a sum of cash along with a work of calligraphy to a government official and benefited from a business opportunity in exchange. The official had been put under investigation, and Li Chang, along with numerous other businessmen, had been arrested.
In the subsequent weeks, her aunt lost her brightness and became afraid of almost everything. Many nights, she stayed at Jia Jia’s apartment. She met everyone she could find who had connections with the Disciplinary Committee, but most of them did not have any valuable information, and others only provided false comfort.
Eventually, Jia Jia’s aunt started distracting herself by taking classes in flower arrangement. She was very thin, and the skin on the back of her neck draped loosely over the pure gold chain that she always wore. She was tired all the time. Jia Jia urged her to see a doctor; she agreed, but would always find a different excuse to cancel the appointment. She either slept all day or did not sleep at all. She also started smoking, and her arguments with Jia Jia’s grandmother became more frequent.
March turned to April and Jia Jia had still not seen Leo. She had not gone to his bar, and he had not contacted her either. Instead, Jia Jia focused her attention on completing her commission. (Be wary when interacting with Ms Wan and don’t speak too much about Li Chang, her aunt had told her.) Originally, she had only been asked to paint the middle section of the wall, leaving two wide strips of white on each side, but Ms Wan was so captivated by her work that she extended her commission to have the side sections filled as well. She agreed to pay Jia Jia an extra ten thousand yuan for it.
‘Take your time,’ Ms Wan told her. ‘Fine products come from slow work.’
‘You seem to be at home quite often these days – has business been quiet?’ Jia Jia asked as she started sketching on the white wall, extending the blue pond outwards.
‘I’m fed up. I decided to take a break.’
Ms Wan took off her reading glasses and set her copy of Meditations down on the table. ‘The film industry is hopeless,’ she said.
‘I haven’t seen a good movie for a long time,’ Jia Jia said.
Ms Wan pointed the remote control at the television. ‘Look at these two guys in this new drama. They look the same! Same haircut, same face shape, same build. How is the audience supposed to know which one is which?’
Jia Jia directed her attention to the screen. Another drama about the struggles between the Red Army and the Nationalist Party. The main character, a spy for the Red Army, was a tall man with dark eyebrows. Indeed, he looked very much like the captain in the Nationalist Army. She imagined the action scenes, one man fighting against his own shadow.
‘There is a lot of money,’ Ms Wan said regretfully. ‘And the government is supportive of cultural activities, which is great, they say. But I’m so tired of making bad films. Do you want to have a drink with me?’