Peaches and Plums Don’t Speak – Chapter 87
by Little PandaMatters of the Heart
Yan Xi pulled the car door open. Gao Jiming stepped forward to block her, urgent. “Yan Xi, I wanted to confirm everything before coming to you, but I couldn’t hold back! I’ve accepted Shengda Games’ offer. I’m going back to handle the handover—at most, three months!”
He gripped the car door. “Yan Xi! Give me one more chance!”
Yan Xi looked at him, her emotions complicated. Many years ago, when he was going abroad and she wanted to break up, he had begged her in the same way: “Yan Xi, who says long-distance relationships can’t work? I don’t agree to the breakup! Give me one more chance!”
The youthful face of Gao Jiming from back then overlapped with his mature features now. Yan Xi closed her eyes for a moment. “I really have to go.” She slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. Gao Jiming stood in place, watching her leave until she was out of sight.
Yan Xi gathered her thoughts, took a breath, and called Liu Yiyi. “Where are you? I’m coming over now.”
“Don’t. There’s been an accident on West Ring Road. In this ice and snow, you can’t get through.”
“So that’s why there was an accident? No wonder it was blocked for so long. I bumped my car a bit when I went out this morning too…” Yan Xi hadn’t finished speaking when she heard Anzhi’s anxious voice on the other end. “Auntie, are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Just a bump on the front of the car.” Yan Xi’s heart softened. “I’m sorry. I left early today; I thought I’d make it on time. Did you not get my call earlier?”
“My phone died as soon as I went out. Maybe you called then, but it died before I could pick up.”
“Ah… I should have rushed over when I couldn’t get through.”
Anzhi said, “I left early because… the teachers wanted to hold a mobilization meeting for the competition participants. I didn’t want to go.”
Liu Yiyi interjected, “What’s the big deal? We’re not going to that. It’s just an exam. I asked your uncle—if you’ve made it into the national team training camp, the chance for guaranteed admission is high!”
“Where are you? I’ll take a detour and meet up with you.” Yan Xi was still worried.
“Alright, alright. Safety first. I’ll get Little Anzhi home safely.” Liu Yiyi didn’t wait for Yan Xi to reply before hanging up.
Yan Xi returned home and waited until past eight o’clock before Liu Yiyi finally brought Anzhi back. She waited for them in the first-floor living room.
“This late?” she asked softly, her eyes going first to Anzhi.
“I took Anzhi to get a replacement SIM card and to eat,” Liu Yiyi said, pushing Anzhi’s suitcase to the side. “It’s too cold out.”
Yan Xi noticed Anzhi was wearing an unfamiliar coat—a long white Valentino1 coat. It was too long for her, the collar trimmed with fur. Her small face was wrapped inside it, her skin translucent.
“What happened today? Why were you suddenly with Gao…” Liu Yiyi swallowed the word “date” and surreptitiously elbowed Yan Xi. “Did that Gao guy harass you?”
Yan Xi sighed. “Met him on the road. Let’s not talk about it. I didn’t think things through today.”
“Isn’t he married? Why is he still clinging to you? Playing the nostalgia card?”
Yan Xi shook her head. “He’s not married.”
“WTF! Not married?” Liu Yiyi exclaimed, then glanced at Anzhi and lowered her voice. “So he wants to rekindle things with you?”
Yan Xi frowned, unsure how to explain. From the corner of her eye, she saw Anzhi watching her quietly. Her gaze was shimmering and clear, yet fragile as crystal.
Yan Xi felt a hand grip her heart tightly. She pushed Liu Yiyi gently. “I’ll tell you later.”
Yan Xi took a step closer. “Taotao, I’m sorry. I promised to pick you up today.”
Anzhi shook her head in silence.
Liu Yiyi looked at them and decided to add fuel to the fire. “You certainly need to apologize. Anzhi had no money today, lost her phone, and waited for you in the wind and snow for so long.”
“Second Aunt-in-law,” Anzhi turned her head slightly. “No, I just walked a few steps…” She forced a smile, her dimples appearing. When she turned back to Yan Xi, the smile looked genuine. “Auntie, I’m not a child. I can get home by myself. Today was just an accident.”
“It’s just that the phone is lost. What a pity. It’s my fault for being careless.”
“Lost is lost. I’ll buy you a new one.”
“Second Aunt-in-law gave me her old one.”
“Oh…”
Liu Yiyi stood by, gritting her teeth. She decided she didn’t want to deal with this anymore; better to go home early and hug her husband. She waved her hand. “I’m heading back. It’s freezing.”
“Second Aunt-in-law, the coat.” Anzhi reached out to take off the jacket.
“Keep it. It’ll fit you in a few years.”
Anzhi thanked her. Liu Yiyi stared at her, pinched her cheek, and glanced at Yan Xi. She decided to add one last thing: “Don’t wear so little when you go out tomorrow. You’re just a kid—if you freeze, how will you go to school?”
Anzhi quickly stopped her from saying more and saw her to the door.
Liu Yiyi left, and the atmosphere instantly turned awkward.
Anzhi smiled at Yan Xi and pulled her suitcase toward the stairs. Yan Xi reached for the handle, wanting to help.
“I can do it, Auntie. It’s light.” Anzhi carried it up herself. Yan Xi stood there, at a loss.
She rubbed her head in frustration and followed Anzhi upstairs, unsure of what to say. “Taotao…”
Anzhi’s smile was hollow. “Mm. Auntie, I’m tired. I want to go to sleep.”
As soon as the door closed, Anzhi sank to the floor. The room was dark; the long coat wrapped around her tightly. Her whole body felt weak, supported only by the clothes.
Yan Xi might not have realized it, but Anzhi knew that Gao Jiming held a very important place in her heart. In the past, she would never have forgotten her—even if she had work or matters to attend to, she would have let her know to ensure her safety.
If they were just ordinary family, and today was just a string of accidents, she could have openly complained a little. She wouldn’t feel this sad, this wronged…
If she didn’t like Yan Xi, she could have acted like a child and complained to her properly. But she did like Yan Xi. She wanted Yan Xi to treat her like an adult, and she wanted Yan Xi to notice her grievance.
Anzhi lay on the floor. A voice in her heart whispered: This is just the beginning, isn’t it? In the future, her place in Yan Xi’s heart will slowly, slowly retreat.
She had thought she could make the national team to compete. She couldn’t do it. After Liao Chengyu became impossible for Yan Xi, she had thought she could act a little more spoiled with her for a few more days.
Things go against one’s wishes; one is powerless.2Anzhi silently chewed on the pain these words brought, and the jealousy. She had never been so jealous of anyone—jealous that he had dated Yan Xi, jealous that Yan Xi had liked him, jealous of his gender. But reason told her she had no right to be jealous, no right to feel wronged.
Yet she couldn’t control the sadness, the grievance, the jealousy.
It was painful.
Yan Xi paced back and forth in the living room several times. Her hand reached for the door to knock, only to pull back again and again.
The next morning, Anzhi found Yan Xi waiting for her.
“I’ll drive you to school? It’s your final exam today, right?” Yan Xi looked at her with a smile.
Anzhi knew Yan Xi was trying to make amends. Her nose stung inexplicably. She bit her lip, said nothing, and walked out the door. She didn’t see Yan Xi frown behind her.
Anzhi tightened her scarf and walked with her head down, counting her steps.
One step, two steps, three steps…
The sound of the wind, the voices of passersby, the cars… was that her?
Anzhi glanced with her peripheral vision. It wasn’t her car.
She continued walking, disappointed, feeling she was being so melodramatic.
Suddenly, a horn sounded behind her. Anzhi’s heart jumped, and she stopped involuntarily. Yan Xi drove up slowly and stopped beside her.
She rolled down the window, her smile still gentle. “Come on, get in. Don’t be late.”
Anzhi bit her lip for several seconds before finally getting in. Seeing her obey, Yan Xi’s eyes curved into a smile. She reached out naturally to ruffle Anzhi’s hair.
Anzhi turned her head away. Yan Xi’s hand met empty air. She paused, momentarily lost for words. Then she withdrew her hand and started driving.
There was still snow on the road. Yan Xi drove with particular care and steadiness. The car was quiet and warm; no one spoke.
After a while, Yan Xi said, “I’ll pick you up after the exam this afternoon. We’ll go eat what you want, okay? Eel rice or cheese hotpot?”
Anzhi tugged at the hem of her clothes. She didn’t say yes, she didn’t say no.
When they arrived at school, Anzhi got out.
“Taotao?” Yan Xi leaned out the window. In the cold winter morning, she looked as enchanting as a cover girl from a pictorial.
She seemed to want to say something, but in the end, she didn’t. She just smiled. “Good luck. I’m going to work.”
Anzhi stood in a daze for a while, watching the trail of her car leaving. She felt she was being melodramatic to the extreme.
After the exam ended in the afternoon, Anzhi walked out of the school gate and saw Yan Xi’s car. She must have been waiting a long time; several cars were lined up behind her.
Anzhi walked to the car. Yan Xi was leaning back in the seat, reading on her phone. She usually didn’t like reading on her phone, complaining the screen was too small. Anzhi guessed she had been waiting a while and got bored.
“Mm? Done with the exam? Let’s go eat.” Seeing her, Yan Xi put the phone aside, her tone still gentle.
The kinder she was to her, the sadder and more bitter Anzhi felt. She hated herself for being melodramatic while secretly suffering. In this unspeakable torment, she stood rooted to the spot.
Yan Xi was slightly taken aback. “Not going?”
Anzhi stood with her head down, not moving, not walking.
The parents in the cars behind Yan Xi had picked up their children and driven off. Only Anzhi was still standing there.
Yan Xi frowned in confusion, wondering what the problem was. She shook her head. “Taotao, I don’t understand…”
“Are you still angry?” Yan Xi could only guess.
Yan Xi fell silent for a moment, then sighed softly. “Get in the car. Let’s talk at home, okay?”
They stood in a stalemate for a while. Many classmates saw Anzhi standing by the car door, refusing to get in, and cast curious glances.
Xu Jia’er, in particular, had been watching for a while, her expression inquisitive.
She stood several steps away and called out, “Little Class Monitor, what’s up?”
Anzhi didn’t know which nerve had misfired, but she actually turned around and said, “Wait for me. Let’s go eat together.”
“Ah?” Xu Jia’er looked confused.
“We agreed before to go eat together, remember?” Anzhi signaled her with her eyes: Please, play along.
Xu Jia’er’s expression shifted from surprise to realization. “Oh… then let’s go eat.”
“Okay.” Anzhi turned her head to look at Yan Xi. “I’m going to eat with her. Auntie, you go back first.”
Yan Xi didn’t answer. She just looked at Anzhi, her expression calm. For a full three or four seconds, she asked again, “You’re going to eat with her now?”
Anzhi wanted to scrutinize her expression, but her heart was knotted tight. Her reason was like a small boat drifting in the ocean, unable to find shore anywhere.
Yan Xi nodded. “Alright, you go.” She withdrew her gaze and started the car. Anzhi’s lips moved, wanting to speak but stopping.
Yan Xi said one last thing: “Remember to bind my card on WeChat.”
The cars behind her had all driven off, leaving a large stretch of empty road. Whether it was the car’s high performance or her own emotional fluctuation, the car sped away with a “Whoosh.”
The author has something to say:
Let me explain the changes to this chapter.
I revised it twice.
The first time was shortly after posting, when a reader pointed out some illogical elements.
In the original first draft, I wrote “the phone wasn’t charged, it was already out of power,” and later “the phone in his pocket didn’t ring either.”
“Since the phone was already out of power, it wouldn’t ring in that situation”—that was her exact words.
What I wanted to express at the time was a psychological state: “an inner expectation, knowing full well it wouldn’t ring, yet still hoping it would.” This was my own personal psychological experience. Later, I felt the expression wasn’t good, and not many people would understand it anyway. So I changed it.
Then came the complaints about the plot, the complaints about the narration, and even people saying they’d stop reading to go read other fiction, with quite a few comments agreeing. (I can accept that.) What I cannot accept is the comment that my “characterization collapsed.”
I thought about it all last night and don’t feel there was any collapse. On the contrary, I feel the dialogue before and after could have better transitions.
I’ve had experiences where I lost my phone but it could still get through, but I decided to change it to the “switched off” phenomenon that happens to most people.
Some comments said this change made Anzhi and Yan Xi’s relationship seem strangely close, and that it removed Yan Xi’s daze regarding her ex.
I never wrote that Yan Xi was dazed about her ex. I only changed “the two looked at each other for several seconds” to “the two looked at each other for several seconds, and Yan Xi looked away.”
I also added “her heart grew increasingly anxious.” (Obviously, some people think dialogue and small actions don’t reflect the protagonist’s inner state well.)
Those are the changes I made.
Now, a few words from me:
- No one is more cautious about their progress than I am. Only I know how many writing approaches I’ve overturned.
- I know these words will invite complaints too. Those who complain won’t say I changed it well, and those who don’t complain will say the changes feel forced. I can’t please either side.
But why am I saying this? Because I’m holding it in. I don’t care about losing face; I have to roll around on the ground a bit to vent my grievances. - I know the best way is to not change anything after posting, but I can’t do that. I will have typos, I will have bugs. I’m not afraid of losing face; in my other work, “trust fund” is still translated as “trust” fund. If I don’t change it, people will keep reminding me, so sometimes I get annoyed too.
- That’s right. I just wrote a long note in Chapter 73, and now I’m writing one in this chapter too. I hope there won’t be more. (No tears streaming down my old face.)
(Old Deng, what am I going to do with you? You promised to be cool and aloof because of your age.)
(July 13, 2017, 17:00)
Footnotes
- Valentino is an Italian luxury fashion house founded in 1960, known for its elegant designs and signature 'Valentino red' color.
- Shì yǔ yuàn wéi means 'things go against one's wishes'; wú néng wéi lì means 'powerless to do anything.' Together, they express a sense of helplessness in the face of fate.
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