Peaches and Plums Don’t Speak – Chapter 19

Fireworks

Considering the elders’ age and the children’s early bedtime, they had their dumplings well before midnight. At ten o’clock, after everyone had finished eating, Grandfather Yan and Grandmother Yan were the first to return to their rooms. Eldest Yan¹ and his wife led the twins away, and Yan Yixi silently went back to his own room. Yan Yinan, after stuffing down a few dumplings, went out to meet up with friends. For him, the night was just beginning; the real excitement was in the city.

Yan Qi opened her phone and found a flood of greeting messages from colleagues and friends. She picked a few to reply to.

Suddenly, a familiar name leaped into view.

“Happy New Year. All the best. I miss you.”

Gao Jiming.

Perhaps because he hadn’t received a reply after a few moments, he called.

Yan Qi stared at the name on the screen but ultimately chose not to answer. Seeing that Auntie Xin was with Anzhi, she got up and headed downstairs.

The frigid outside air instantly seeped into her nose and mouth. Yan Qi exhaled a puff of warm breath. Beicheng City had banned firecrackers² and fireworks over a decade ago, but they were still permitted in the areas outside the city center during the Spring Festival.

After 10 PM, beautiful, brilliant fireworks began to bloom above her head. Yan Qi paid them no mind; she just wanted to go for a walk.

During his time abroad, Gao Jiming had never stopped trying to contact her. He had found every possible way to reach her.

He had said, “Why can’t you give us another chance? Why do you have to be so cruel? Why won’t you trust me? How do you know we can’t make it work from different places³?”

Was I too harsh? Maybe I didn’t love him as much as I thought.

A tightness bloomed in Yan Qi’s chest, and she was suddenly hit with the urge to smoke. She pressed her lips together, hugging her shoulders and knitting her brow as she paced around the courtyard.

She couldn’t just drop everything and go abroad with him. But even after making the decision, she was still plagued by hesitation and doubt.

She had cut off any future they might have had, but she couldn’t deny the past.

Yan Qi stood alone in a daze for a moment. The cool wind brushed her face, and the night was a riot of color from the fireworks, but her mood was waning⁴.

Hugging her shoulders, she shivered. When she turned back, she saw Anzhi’s small figure peeking around the door, watching her quietly.

She was wearing the new pink down jacket⁵ Yan Qi had bought for her. Her little apple face⁶ was round and plump, and her eyes, pure and not yet versed in the ways of the world⁷, were fixed on her. There was no telling how long she had been standing there, keeping her company.

Yan Qi suddenly understood why some people considered children to be such healing creatures.

“Why aren’t you wearing a coat?”

Yan Qi swept Anzhi into her arms and sat with her on the doorstep.

Anzhi was held so tightly in her lap, she felt like a personal heater. She could also sense that Yan Qi seemed a little unhappy. Why is she unhappy? Isn’t everyone supposed to be happy during the New Year?

“Mm…” Yan Qi buried her face behind Anzhi’s hood, her voice a little nasal. She didn’t answer the question.

Anzhi couldn’t even turn around and felt a little out of breath. After several long seconds, Yan Qi finally loosened her grip. “Taotao,” she said languidly, “sing a song for Auntie.”

Anzhi’s face stiffened.

“I don’t want to…” she whispered.

Yan Qi teased her. “There’s no one else here, just your Auntie.”

Anzhi’s cheeks puffed out. Didn’t she say not to call her Auntie? Now she’s calling herself that.

“Come on, be a good girl. Just one song…” Yan Qi reached into her hood and gently scratched her ear.

Her hand was ice-cold.

Anzhi resisted the urge to pull away from her touch. She fidgeted. “You can’t laugh at me…”

Yan Qi chuckled softly. “Okay, I won’t laugh.”

After a moment’s pause, Anzhi summoned a great deal of courage and began to sing. “Happy New Year, Happy New Year, wishing everyone a Happy New Year…”

Her voice was soft and sticky⁸. After one verse, she switched to English. “We are singing, we are dancing, Happy New Year to you all.”

It was a simple children’s song, and Anzhi’s voice was innocent and soothing. When she finished, the small wine nest⁹ on her right cheek twitched shyly.

Yan Qi listened with a smile until she was done, then patted her head in approval. “I heard they teach dancing at kindergarten, too…”

Anzhi shook her head so hard she looked like a pellet drum¹⁰. “No dancing, no dancing…”

Yan Qi burst out laughing.

“Do you have a New Year’s wish, Taotao?”

“I do,” little Anzhi said, focused on one thing. “I want to grow taller! Really, really tall…”

“Okay, okay,” Yan Qi said, suddenly remembering something. “Right, I’ve already taken care of the paperwork. The elementary school for that apartment is Shida Affiliated Primary School¹¹. It’s a good school, and you can enroll directly in the first grade.”

“But, Anzhi, I have something I need to discuss with you. My work schedule is pretty demanding, so I might not be able to pick you up from school every day. I don’t feel comfortable with you coming home alone, so I’ll hire an Auntie to pick you up and cook for you. I’ll be busy in the evenings when I get off work, so the Auntie will stay with you.”

Yan Qi paused. “Or I could have the Auntie bring you here, and I’ll pick you up on my way home? Hmm? What do you think?” She gave Anzhi a little shake.

Her eldest and third brothers had both asked about her plans. When Yan Qi told them she needed to ask Anzhi’s opinion, they’d laughed. What could a small child possibly know? They told her to just make the decision herself.

But Yan Qi felt she had to know what Anzhi thought. She might not fully understand, but at the very least, Yan Qi had to ask. She wanted Anzhi to feel like she was a part of it.

Anzhi actually gave it some serious thought, then tilted her little head toward her. “We don’t have to come back here. I can be at home by myself.”

Yan Qi was firm. “No, that’s not happening. An Auntie has to be there to watch you. You can’t be home alone.”

Anzhi’s lips pushed out in a slight pout. “I’ll be good.”

Yan Qi smiled. “I know.”

The fireworks in the distance continued intermittently, alternating between brilliance and silence.

Yan Qi’s gaze softened. “I know Taotao will be good, but I’ll feel more at ease if someone is at home with you.” She added, a little embarrassed and looking almost childish herself, “Also… I can’t cook… I can’t have you eating takeout all the time.”

Anzhi looked down, thought for a moment, and then nodded.

Yan Qi tapped her cheek. “Sometimes I might have to work overtime, and you’d be home alone, and, well…”

Her voice grew a little softer. “I don’t know if this is a good idea… If you don’t like it, we can move back anytime, okay? How does that sound?”

Anzhi’s little brain seemed to freeze for a second before kicking into high gear.

She realized Yan Qi was having a conversation with her. It wasn’t an order; she was asking for her opinion.

She really cares about me.

Why?

Why is she so good to me?

Anzhi stared at her, stunned, and for some reason, she suddenly wanted to cry.

“What’s wrong? Hmm?” Yan Qi asked, noticing the change in her expression.

Anzhi lowered her head.

“Don’t you want to move out? Or is it something else? Taotao?” Yan Qi reached out to touch her face.

Anzhi suddenly turned and wrapped her small arms around her neck, burying her face in the crook of her neck. Yan Qi froze. The child’s face skin was thin¹²; when she wanted to be affectionate, she would usually just tug on her clothes with wide eyes or bury her blushing face in her chest when being held. She almost never dared to initiate a hug.

Yan Qi’s heart melted into a soft, fluffy cloud.

“What is it?”

“I’ll listen to you,” Anzhi said in a tiny voice.

Yan Qi smiled. “Okay.”

“If you don’t like it later, just tell me, you hear?” Yan Qi said gently.

“Mm.” The little head buried in her neck moved slightly.

Yan Qi felt a wave of relief. It was finally settled.

Two massive sounds, a dong dong and a shoo shoo, echoed from the horizon, drawing their attention. They looked up to see a dazzling bloom expand across the sky, a breathtaking sight.

Yan Qi looked away from the sky and saw the focused, joyful look in Anzhi’s eyes. She smiled. “Want to set off some fireworks?”

Anzhi’s eyes lit up. “Can we?”

“Great-grandfather hasn’t let us set off fireworks these past few years because Great-grandmother doesn’t sleep well at night,” Yan Qi said. “However…” She leaned in and whispered, “There are still a few in the garage. We can go a little farther away to light them.”

Yan Qi went back inside to grab a thick coat, then took Anzhi’s hand and ran out of the courtyard.

Yan Qi told Anzhi to light the fuse¹³, but Anzhi was too scared. With Yan Qi’s encouragement, she did it, and Yan Qi quickly pulled her back several meters as Anzhi giggled.

The fuse burned down. Bang, bang! Anzhi tilted her head back and saw two bright, starry points shoot rapidly into the air. A pair of soft hands covered her ears. Against the inky blackness of the night, the fireworks looked especially large and bright, seeming to envelop the two of them completely. Anzhi let out an “Oooh-wah,” her eyes dazzled and her spirit entranced¹⁴. She looked up from within Yan Qi’s embrace.

“What’s your New Year’s wish?”

For a moment, Yan Qi’s expression went distant, but then she smiled. “Hmm… I hope Taotao grows up tall? Does that count?”

Anzhi pressed her lips together, embarrassed, and smiled too.

Yan Qi bent down, tapped her cheek, and said suddenly, “Taotao, from now on… we’re going to spend many, many New Years together.”

Many years later, Anzhi—an Anzhi who had finally grown to the height of Yan Qi’s ear—would always remember those words. She would remember that in the year she turned six, Yan Qi promised that they would live together. She had given her a home.

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