Walk Into Your Good Night

It had been a while ago since I last properly had a home cooked meal, and I had to admit, Tang Jing Chuan’s wife was very good at cooking. Even though they were all common, ordinary dishes, when I sat down and looked at her presenting them like treasures to us, I actually felt more content than sitting in a top-class hotel.

When I was younger I especially liked celebrating Chinese New Year, because the eve of it was the only time of the year where my entire family would get together, and during those times, each of the dishes on the table were dishes that my parents personally cooked, but things changed later on. My dad started to get increasingly busy, and sometimes he couldn’t even celebrate the Spring Festival with us; or when he sometimes had the time, we’d go out to a hotel to eat a sumptuous feast, or we’d go overseas to enjoy good wine and delicious food.

Days like those may seem full of happiness, but in actuality they lacked a lot of human warmth.

I sat there and looked at Tang Jing Chuan’s wife busily filling up our bowls with rice and serving the dishes. I also looked at Tang Jing Chuan cautiously and solemnly pouring wine for me, and then I heard him say, “Sorry, our house doesn’t have any wine glasses. We only have these to make do, is that okay?”

He was using regular transparent glasses to drink water from. I looked at the red wine being poured into the glasses, and I thought that this experience was a little odd yet wonderful to me.

It was a bottle of wine that cost tens of thousands of renminbi and wasn’t even properly decanted, yet I didn’t feel disappointed or think that it was a pity. I even thought of it as a precious moment.

The meal was served. Tang Jing Chuan’s wife used water as a replacement for wine and expressed her thanks to me.

I was actually a little embarrassed, because the reason I came here to eat had nothing to do with this, I just wanted to look at their real, everyday lives.

“Really, thank you. The fact that Jing Chuan was able to make a friend like you, sir, makes me very happy.” 

She said, “When I saw you guys standing near the window chatting with each other while I was serving food earlier…you might not know, sir, but Jing Chuan is rarely ever this talkative.”

I really wanted to say that he actually didn’t say that much earlier, but I had second thoughts about this. Maybe this person was someone who didn’t say even one superfluous word when talking to other people. If I looked at it that way, I was someone special to him.

I was actually secretly delighted because of this.

During this meal, I tried my best to seem as if I was sincere and guileless. I spared no effort in trying to make them feel like I was truly a rich child of an entrepreneur who was incredibly bored and willing to help others.

I said, “In today’s society, everyone is so focused on their own things, and everyone is becoming more and more cold and distant from each other. Oftentimes people don’t even know who their neighbours are. You guys are the first neighbours I’ve become acquainted with since moving here. I really enjoy interacting with you guys.”

This wine had a decently high alcohol percentage. Tang Jing Chuan drank a few glasses and started to become flushed all across his face.

He was really cute when he was flushed. He started speaking slower, and every word he spoke felt like they were emanating wine flavours, making me feel dizzy as I listened.

I avariciously gathered everything that he said to me and kept it near to me, and I planned to properly relish those words after I went back home.

After we finished eating, Tang Jing Chuan was totally drunk.

His wife said, “He rarely ever drinks. This is my first time seeing him drunk.”

She looked at him with a smiling expression on her face as she said those words; her eyes were filled with love.

I was envious of this woman, but after this feeling of envy came pity.

“I’ll help him up to this room.” I said.

She stood up, lightly patted his back then gently said, “Jing Chuan, are you alright?”

Tang Jing Chuan drunkenly held her arm while his eyes were closed and nodded his head.

She apologetically said, “It looks like he’s really drunk. Mr. Shui, we’ll have to trouble you here.”

Carrying him up? I was extremely willing to.

I stood up, supported him on my shoulder and asked her, “Where’s the bedroom?”

“Up the second floor on your right.”

I supported Tang Jing Chuan and walked towards the stairs. His wife followed behind me, and I said, “It’s okay. You can tidy up the table. The stairs are narrow so it’s rather inconvenient for us to be together like this. Leave this to me.”

She nodded her head and went to clean up the leftovers.

I, on the other hand, cautiously brought Tang Jing Chuan up the stairs. With each step I took, I could feel my heartbeat that was increasingly becoming obvious.

I even started to feel scared that he’d suddenly wake up and realise my secret.

The distance between the first and second floors wasn’t long. I deliberately slowed down my pace to enjoy this brief period of intimacy that I had stolen.

I gently placed him on the bed in the room, took off his slippers and placed them on the floor.

For the past 29 years, this was the only time I had taken care of another person.

When I entered the room I specially used my foot to close the door. I stood beside the bed, lowered my head and looked at his flushed face and slightly opened mouth.

I had never once thirsted for something like this, and I had never once had a struggle like this either.

There wasn’t anyone else present, and he was drunk beyond recognition. I had the chance to sneakily give him a kiss, then act like nothing had ever happened. This kiss would act as my reward from him, as because of him, I had exerted quite a bit of effort.

I slightly leaned forward; the tips of our noses almost touched.

I looked at his knitted brows and the beads of sweat that exuded from his forehead. At last, I took out a tissue from my pocket, wiped away his sweat, then walked back downstairs.

He wasn’t mine; he ultimately wasn’t mine.

Since he wasn’t mine, I couldn’t touch him.

I was amazed at my self-control, but it was because of this that when I walked downstairs and met eyes with Tang Jing Chuan’s wife again, I was able to say with a clear conscience, “He’s asleep. I’ll be going back now.”

—

Translator’s note:

In chapter 5, I translated Xiao Yun’s medical treatment as just “treatment”. She’s actually undergoing conservative treatment. I have updated chapter 5 to reflect this amendment. I am sorry for making this error.