Peaches and Plums Don’t Speak – Chapter 138
by Little PandaThe Look of Youth
On her way back to the dorm, Anzhi cupped her cheeks, which were flushed slightly red from the cold, and quickened her pace. Yan Xi was waiting for her inside.
Just the thought of her made Anzhi even more shy. She’d spent the entire day spacing out during classes and discussions, completely off her game. Her mind was entirely consumed by her.
She’d embarrassingly fainted the previous night, and she had no idea what had happened afterward. Still, the memories she did have were more than enough to keep her reminiscing and blushing.
She loved the Yan Xi of last night.
She couldn’t wait to see her.
Jogging to the entrance of her dorm building, she brushed the snow off her clothes, unlocked the main door, and headed upstairs. She pushed open the door to her room and called out, “Yiyi…”
There was no reply.
Instantly, Anzhi sensed something was wrong. She hurried inside and saw that in the kitchen, a pot of soup had been knocked over.
Yan Xi stood frozen in place, her expression completely changed, staring fixedly at the phone on the table.
Pushing everything else aside, Anzhi softly called to her, “Yiyi, what happened?”
Yan Xi turned her head. As her stiff, bewildered gaze landed on Anzhi, a trace of warmth finally returned to her eyes. She reached out with great difficulty. “Taotao…”
Anzhi took her hand almost instantly, just as a voice began to filter through the phone on the table.
“Answer it…” Yan Xi leaned against her, as though all her strength had been drained.
Supporting her, Anzhi picked up the phone. On the other end was the voice of Xiao Yutong.
The moment Anzhi heard her speak, her own face went pale. At last, she understood why Yan Xi was so deeply shaken.
They immediately packed their things and took the earliest flight to Beicheng.
Thousands of meters up in the sky, Anzhi reached out to grasp Yan Xi’s hand. Yan Xi was wearing sunglasses, but Anzhi knew her eyes underneath were red.
She didn’t say a word, only tightening her grip. They locked fingers, silently drawing strength from each other.
Fortune is as unpredictable as the weather, and human life as fragile.
At noon the previous day in Beicheng, Grandmother Yan had gone to take a nap. At half past three, Auntie Xin went up to her room. At that moment, Grandfather Yan had just gone downstairs to stretch his legs and play with the twin infants.
Grandmother Yan still hadn’t woken up. With a faint smile still resting on her lips, she had already stopped breathing.
She passed away in her sleep. It was very sudden, but fortunately she didn’t suffer.
Grandfather Yan, whose heart wasn’t good to begin with, collapsed from the sudden shock of the blow.
The old residence fell into utter chaos.
Birth, aging, sickness, and death are the natural course of life, and both grandparents had reached a ripe old age. Even though the youngest of their grandchildren was already over thirty-five, they had still hoped the elders would remain with them for just a little longer. Over the years, the two elderly grandparents had suffered various ailments, but they had always pulled through safely. In their hearts, the Yan children had always felt it was still far too early to speak of such a day.
An elder in the family is a treasure, and the Yan family had been blessed with two.
Everyone had grown accustomed to having these two lovely, endearing elders around.
There had never been strict rules in the Yan family. Even Yan Yidong, who held immense authority in front of his younger siblings, would show a childish side before his grandparents—to say nothing of the younger ones.
Such suddenness was truly too hard to bear.
But the world rarely bends to human wishes.
It was early evening the following day when Yan Xi and Anzhi arrived. Without a moment’s delay, they rushed straight to the hospital.
Everyone else was already there. Only the two youngest twins were not inside the ward, having been taken downstairs to be cared for by the nurses.
Grandfather Yan’s condition was critical; his heart had already been resuscitated twice.
Yan Yidong squeezed Yan Xi’s shoulder. A grown man of over 1.8 meters, his eyes were red. “Grandfather has been waiting for you.”
They stepped inside.
Grandfather Yan lay on the hospital bed. His complexion was not as ghastly as Yan Xi had feared, carrying the fleeting, radiant glow of a final rally. His pupils had already grown dull and grey, yet they still held a faint trace of a smile, showing no fear of approaching death.
He could no longer speak normally. In a voice as faint as a whisper, he said to his grandchildren, “Grandfather has a few words to say to you.”
The corners of his mouth twitched into a weak smile. “In order of age.”
Yan Yidong and Xiao Yutong stepped forward. The old man took his hand. “Eldest, from now on, you’ll be in charge of this household. Look after the family well.”
His eyes bloodshot, Yan Yidong choked out, “Yes, Grandfather.”
Muffled, repressed sobs echoed throughout the room.
Grandfather Yan smiled in relief, then looked at Xiao Yutong. “Eldest Granddaughter-in-law, you’ve worked so hard all these years.”
Xiao Yutong sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “Grandfather… This, this is only my duty.”
Grandfather Yan turned his head and waved to Yan Yixi and Liu Yiyi, who were standing on the other side.
Yan Yixi walked over stiffly, his lips pressed tightly together, while Liu Yiyi leaned against him, her face drenched in tears.
“As long as you two are happy doing what you love, that is enough. Second Granddaughter-in-law, you’re the sensible one. Be patient with this foolish boy.”
Liu Yiyi burst into a tearful laugh before puckering her lips and sobbing again, nodding vigorously.
Grandfather Yan gasped heavily, pressing his hand against his chest. Yan Yinan, who was waiting, couldn’t hold back his tears and cried out, “Grandfather…”
“You’re always the one acting spoiled,” Grandfather Yan said. Finally catching his breath, he looked warmly at Yu Shengnan, whose face was filled with sorrow. “Third Granddaughter-in-law, this boy’s incredibly blessed to have married you. I’ll have to trouble you to look after your little family.”
Yu Shengnan placed her hand on the weeping Yan Yinan’s shoulder, nodding with tearful eyes. “I will, Grandfather.”
Only then did Grandfather Yan look toward Xiao Wu. Yan Yidong and Xiao Yutong stepped aside to make room for her. She had been standing frozen in place ever since entering the ward, and even now, she didn’t dare step forward.
“Xiao Wu, come here…”
Knowing these were his final words, she slowly forced her legs to move. Meeting Grandfather Yan’s gaze, her tears finally spilled over. She knelt by the bedside, clutching his hand as she wept uncontrollably.
Grandfather Yan gently patted her hand, then reached his other hand out toward Anzhi.
Anzhi was stunned. Only when Yan Xi turned her head and gave her a nod did she step forward.
The old man held each of their hands. Slowly, he murmured, “You two must… be well.”
Anzhi suddenly understood. She bit her lip hard, keeping herself from crying out.
Having said his piece, Grandfather Yan took another deep, shuddering breath. His eyes slowly swept across his grandchildren, a gentle smile on his face. “Your great-grandfather hopes you’ll be healthy and safe.”
The younger generation wept softly around him.
Grandfather Yan blinked, his vision already clouding over. “I have nothing left to worry about, nor do I have any regrets.”
“I can’t leave your grandmother behind…”
He’d fallen in love with her at very first sight. At the gates of Yenching University1, she had stood wearing a plain qipao, gently smoothing her jaw-length bob as she offered him a soft, brief smile.
She was a music student, an exceptionally talented pianist who had been nurtured with the utmost care by her family since childhood. He was studying at Peking University at the time, two years her senior, also majoring in music with a focus on bel canto.
They fell in love quickly. She called him Maohua-gege. She was from the south, with a soft, gentle accent and an elegant name: Shunian.
They loved each other through the most turbulent, fraught era. Later, when the Kuomintang retreated to Taiwan, her family decided to relocate their entire household and business there. As a junior member of the family, she had no say in the matter, and though he was frantic with worry, there was nothing he could do.
On the day of their departure, he made the wildest, most reckless decision of his life: he chased her all the way to the station, only to find the train had already departed. Just as he was returning in deep despair and regret, he found her standing right outside his door, waiting for him. She was smiling, even though her eyes were filled with tears.
She had chosen to stay behind for him. They became engaged, studying and building a life together. Later, Yenching University was dissolved, and several of its departments were merged into Peking University. They taught at the same institution, and he even joined the cultural troupe2, traveling far and wide to perform.
During an era when family visits across the strait were strictly forbidden, the two families managed to meet in Hong Kong to witness their wedding. Before her family, he solemnly promised that he’d respect, cherish, and care for her for the rest of his life, never to leave or abandon her.
A year after their marriage, he was sent to the Soviet Union for a year-long academic exchange. They bid each other a tearful farewell. Two months later, she told him over the phone that she was pregnant. They were overjoyed. Since they could not speak on the phone often, he wrote letters and sent telegrams, wishing more than anything that he could fly back to her side and look after her. But heaven was unjust and dealt them trials; they tragically lost the child.
She had suffered such an immense blow, yet he was unable to be by her side. By the time he returned to the country, she had lost a tremendous amount of weight, her cheekbones prominent, yet her smile remained as sweet as ever.
They took care of each other, comforted each other, and three years later, they finally had Yan Yidong’s father.
Though life wasn’t affluent back then, they were very happy.
Until the gloomy, storm-tossed era3 hostile to intellectuals arrived. One day, while she was teaching, because of her background, radical students burst into the classroom and smashed her piano on the spot, accusing her of being a counter-revolutionary and the offspring of evil capitalists. They denounced her and forced her to kneel. Hearing the news, he rushed to the scene, and without asking anything, held her tight to shield her.
There were several times when they thought they wouldn’t make it, but fortunately, they pulled through.
At its worst, she couldn’t teach and he was also implicated. For a time, they even had difficulty living, relying on the charity of friends and students.
Once things improved, she returned to teaching at the university. He finally achieved recognition, became the department head, and was invited to sing at the Spring Festival Gala. Gradually, their lives got better.
Although their son was somewhat rebellious, refusing to study music to major in architecture and even having a child before graduating from university, these were much better compared to their past hardships.
But unexpected storms always arise; their son, daughter-in-law, and youngest grandson were tragically killed in a plane crash.
Throughout their lives, no matter how many hardships they endured, they always supported each other.
Surrounded by children and grandchildren, they had grown old together.
He loved her like a family member, and adored her like a lover.
How could he ever bear to let her depart all alone?
For the sake of their love, she gazed across the sea toward her family, unable to reunite with them. She was originally a pampered daughter of wealth, yet she had endured so much hardship by his side throughout her life.
Now, his eyes could no longer see, his ears could no longer hear, and his consciousness was a chaotic blur. In that haze, his life’s experiences flickered like individual frames of a film, flashing only to darken immediately. Only one frame remained, frozen in time.
It was early autumn at the gates of Yenching University. She stood there, slender and elegant, smoothing back a lock of hair ruffled by the breeze, offering him a sweet smile: “My name is Ye Shunian.”
“My name is Yan Maohua.” Young and smiling, he walked toward her.
A smile lingered on Grandfather Yan’s lips as the frame froze. He passed away peacefully.
Because of love, even after surviving all the hardships of life, we still look like our younger selves.
The author has something to say:
This chapter was planned from the very beginning. Writing to this point has made me feel quite sorrowful.
Certain historical realities are not easy to write about in detail, but I’m sure you all understand.
Footnotes
- A prestigious historical university in Beijing that existed from 1919 to 1952, when its campus was merged into Peking University.
- A system of state-sponsored performing arts troupes in China, responsible for promoting music, theater, and dance to the public and military.
- A literary euphemism for the Cultural Revolution (1966–1976), a decade of political turmoil in China where intellectuals and those with capitalist backgrounds faced severe persecution.
0 Comments