Peaches and Plums Don’t Speak – Chapter 41

Missing You

For a young person in junior high, there was no need to worry about growing up or other, more unpleasant things. The sky was always blue, the clouds always white, the breeze cool, and the flowers fragrant. There were heavy schoolbags, thick stacks of homework, and the innocent stirrings of young love.

Years later, when Anzhi recalled this time, there was a fleeting moment when she wished time would just stop in her second year of junior high and never flow onward. In her second year, she had her good friend Yang Mengmeng by her side, she had reached a degree of reconciliation with Chen Muqi, and it was also Yan Xi’s least busy year. On weekends or short holidays, Yan Xi would take Anzhi out to play, sometimes bringing Yang Mengmeng along. And as the most “understanding” guardian, she would even help them ask for leave from school, freeing them from any worries.

            

Yan Xi was undoubtedly an excellent travel companion. She would prepare everything for them, look up travel guides, and ensure they could travel light. With ample funds, she would buy them whatever they took a fancy to, being extremely generous. Not to mention, the photos she took of them were more beautiful than anything Meitu XiuXiu could produce.​¹

Yang Mengmeng had been completely won over by Yan Xi, becoming her little fangirl.

This was probably the happiest period in Anzhi’s twelve years of life. Her life was stable and exciting, her studies posed no difficulty, and she had friends and Yan Xi by her side. Everything was in a state of nascent, half-understood budding. The days seemed to be shot through a soft-focus lens, brilliant and beautiful. There was no rush to understand anything; she just spent a year passing the time happily.

            

The moment the third year of junior high began, the teachers of the entire grade launched into exam preparations with great intensity. For Anzhi, she had long since finished learning the material in the textbooks. What excited her somewhat was that they would finally start learning chemistry this semester.

Chemistry was the subject her maternal grandfather had taught. She remembered the catchy rhymes he had made up for her to memorize the periodic table. While most of her classmates’ goal was probably just to get into high school, Anzhi’s was not. She wanted to get into the university with the best chemistry program in Beicheng, which was also one of the country’s top science and engineering schools—Beicheng University of Science and Technology.

She had heard her grandfather say when she was little that in his era, he never had the chance for advanced studies. He only attended a junior college and was assigned to teach at the middle school in their town. Although he could support his family, he held some regret in his heart.

            

Anzhi wanted to fulfill her grandfather’s dream for him.

So, even though she already knew the content of the textbooks, she still made a weekly plan for herself. Following her class schedule, she worked through exercise books and test papers for the main subjects, conducting her own first round of comprehensive review of basic knowledge points. The rest of her time was spent on extended learning in chemistry. Her weeks were packed and fulfilling, and she was full of drive.

In the year she turned twenty-seven, Yan Xi welcomed a turning point in her career. In response to a national government initiative, the Beicheng TV Station’s Science and Education Culture Channel and its Variety Channel jointly prepared to launch a series of cultural and educational programs promoting ancient Chinese poetry, idioms, and character culture. The higher-ups placed great importance on this. To achieve the goal of creating a program that was educational, entertaining, and suitable for all ages to participate in, they handed it to a young and energetic production team.

            

Liao Chengyu was one of the directors, and he proposed to the chief director that they use a young female host with an outstanding image.

After discussion, the production team decided to adopt a dual female host system. Yan Xi was one of them.

This was undoubtedly a rare career opportunity. The program was also set to air during prime time. Because it was a competition show involving university students, a massive amount of preparatory work was required. From on-stage to behind-the-scenes, from the hosts, to cooperation with sponsors, to coordinating applications and approvals with major universities, and inviting judges—the intermediate steps were numerous and complicated. Every link was crucial, and not a single one could be allowed to slacken.

            

Yan Xi moved into the TV station’s apartment, and sent Anzhi to the old residence. It was a timely move, as Anzhi was now in her third year of junior high and needed special attention paid to her diet.

In the spring, Xiao Yutong had become pregnant with her second child. This unexpected baby did not comply with policy. To have this child, Yan Yidong had submitted a written report long in advance, paid the social maintenance fee,​² and even received a disciplinary demerit. He would not be eligible for promotion for at least three years.

However, the entire Yan family was eagerly awaiting the child’s arrival. Yan Yidong sent the two little rascal twins to a fully enclosed military school. Auntie Xin fretted daily about nourishing Xiao Yutong through her pregnancy, taking care of Anzhi at the same time.

            

The whole family was brimming with joy, all hoping for a baby girl.

“I don’t know what’s up with the Yan family. Four generations under one roof, and Xiao Wu is the only girl… I hope this is a baby girl,” Auntie Xin would mutter.

Xiao Yutong felt great. “The baby is especially well-behaved, no morning sickness at all. It must be a girl.”

            

The pregnant Xiao Yutong radiated a maternal glow and was particularly compassionate and gentle. She smiled and said, “It’s not just Xiao Wu. Anzhi is our Yan family’s girl too.”

Auntie Xin was overjoyed. “Good, good, good! Let’s have one more to make it three.”

Anzhi had never been so close to a pregnant woman before. Xiao Yutong was already six or seven months along, her belly round like a ball. Her feet would swell, and walking was a bit tiring, but she insisted on strolling in the old residence’s garden every day, talking to the fetus in her womb. She would read to the baby, a smile on her lips. She was gentle with everything and everyone around her, never getting angry or losing her temper.

            

Once, Anzhi was there when the baby kicked, and she felt a distinct force kick her palm.

So this was how miraculous life was. This unborn infant was already cherished and protected in everyone’s hearts. It was so eagerly anticipated.

Anzhi couldn’t help but wonder: thirteen years ago, when she was still in Tao Zhenzhen’s belly, had her mother ever caressed her like this, even for a moment? Had she ever been delighted by her every kick? Had she, for even a moment, looked forward to her arrival?

            

But what good did it do to think about it so much? Anzhi felt numb.

At the old residence, no one noticed her inner turmoil. Because it was far from Yang Mengmeng’s house, her parents didn’t agree to let her visit. And Yan Xi was too busy to pay her any mind.

She was a year older now, and in front of anyone other than Yan Xi, she was always especially well-behaved.

            

Anzhi spent almost the entire first semester of her third year of junior high living at the old residence, with Uncle Wang driving her to and from school. Yan Yixi came back once or twice a month to see his grandparents and to give Anzhi some special tutoring.​³ Most of the time, she was alone. Eating, sleeping, doing homework, surfing the internet. The only thing she could look forward to each day was her phone call with Yan Xi.

On Saturdays and Sundays, Yan Xi sometimes came back, and sometimes she didn’t. The daytime was fine, but at night, the old residence was especially quiet. Anzhi would do her homework alone in her room on the third floor. She called Yan Xi at a fixed time every day. Sometimes, Yan Xi had meetings at night and would come back so tired her voice was hoarse and low.

But Anzhi always needed to hear her voice. She would chat with her about trivial things, from something as small as a classmate getting caught daydreaming by the teacher, to something as big as Auntie Xiao’s belly getting bigger little by little.

            

Or that Yan Yinan had broken up with his Nth girlfriend.

Or that Yan Yixi seemed to have started dating Auntie Liu? (News pending confirmation.)

She and Yang Mengmeng memorized the Chu Shi Biao on the sports field after school.​⁴

            

She told her about her first chemistry experiment, which was during the last period in the afternoon: producing oxygen. Anzhi was the experiment group leader, and she led her team members to successfully produce oxygen in five different ways. She discovered that she loved chemistry from the bottom of her heart. After finishing the experiment, she washed the lab equipment clean and diligently wrote up her report. That day, all her classmates had left. As she walked to the classroom door, she turned her head. The evening glow of the sunset just happened to be quietly blanketing the entire laboratory.

There was a kind of proud, brilliant light. Anzhi was awestruck.

She felt she had so much to say to her, all her joys and sorrows, all the trivial and tedious details—she always wanted to share them with her. But ultimately, it was over the phone, and Yan Xi was clearly exhausted, pushing herself to listen to her speak.

            

Gradually, she stopped talking so much. Gradually, she would deliberately restrain herself from calling her. Even when she did, it would be just a few short sentences before she hung up to let her rest.

“I won’t be so busy after a while. Be good, Taotao,” Yan Xi would say.

It was around this time that Anzhi started reading webnovels online. She had learned so much from Yang Mengmeng, especially that one sentence: “Oh, a girl with a girl, that’s yuri. But I don’t really ship it. They have it on Jinjiang, too.”

            

Anzhi had kept this sentence in her heart, locked away, never taking it out to verify it.

She cautiously tested the waters, pushing open the door to that world. Just a crack. Anzhi was so nervous her heart was trembling. She randomly clicked on a few books… and found she couldn’t get into them at all.

Perhaps she wasn’t ready to accept it yet.

            

Her heart was heavy with unspoken thoughts, and she found it hard to fall asleep at night. Even though she was sleeping in Yan Xi’s bed, the bed, because Yan Xi hadn’t been back for so long, only smelled of sun-dried linens. Even though she used the exact same scented shampoo and body wash, it didn’t feel like Yan Xi was there beside her.

She remembered when she was little, how Yan Xi had read almost every fairy tale in existence to coax her to sleep, as well as Tagore’s poetry collections.

Deep in the sleepless night, she decided to just sit at her desk and read or do her homework. Occasionally, when her neck grew sore, she would look up, and only the lamp in the courtyard would be there, quietly keeping her company.

            

“Do you know, I always miss you the most at dusk, between the shadows of books, in the quiet sorrow.”​⁵ Anzhi read a sentence like this in a book. It felt like it contained a thousand words, and as she savored it, she found she had nothing left to say.

She took out the plain paper she used for calligraphy practice when she was a child and, word by word, slowly wrote it down, copying it over and over again.

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The author has something to say:

            

Chapters 1-25 covered Anzhi’s rather difficult childhood. Chapters 26 to 41 have been a relatively smooth period. I wanted to let her grow up slowly through daily life, as peaceful days are also suitable for the budding of affection. Now, we will be moving on to the plot.

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