Chapter 46: Fleeting Illusions

Once, Wu Zhenri became involved with a fairly attractive young woman—slightly dark-skinned but robust. She was a kindergarten teacher. One afternoon after school, while escorting a young child onto a bus, the child slipped on the wet road left slick by a recent downpour. The teacher went to help but also lost her footing, sliding and soiling the left leg of her pants with mud, even dirtier than the child.

The child burst into tears at the sight, and a crowd gathered, watching the commotion but offering no assistance.

By chance, Wu Zhenri passed by and immediately hailed a taxi, taking both the teacher and the child back to their homes, paying the fare himself. The young woman was grateful and told him her name was Pei Hua, employed at the county government’s kindergarten. She added that if he had any relatives or friends with young children wishing to enroll there, she could assist, as it was the top kindergarten in the county.

Wu Zhenri thought to himself: he was just an intern, soon to return south after finishing his placement in the north, merely a passerby with no reason to reach out to her.

Of course, if he did want to contact her, it would be for lonely moments to have someone to talk to.

With this in mind, Wu Zhenri smiled gently, shared his name, and asked for her phone number. As they boarded the same taxi back, he fixed his gaze on her smiling face, blew a flying kiss, and then snapped his fingers, making a silly face as if they were old friends, saying, “Hua, see you next time!”

The next day at noon, Wu Zhenri called Pei Hua and invited her for a drink at a food stall.

Pei Hua, of course, didn’t drink alcohol, so Wu Zhenri ordered soft drinks for her.

While they were eating and drinking, a child selling flowers approached and placed a bouquet of roses before Wu Zhenri. Glancing at Pei Hua, the child said, “Sir, buy these for her.”

Wu Zhenri, already a bit tipsy and excited, found this amusing and reached to pay, but Pei Hua quickly pulled out her wallet and handed the child a dime, saying, “No, no, here’s some money for you.”

The child waved off the dime, insisting it wasn’t enough, and again urged Wu Zhenri to buy the flowers for her.

Wu Zhenri knew each bouquet cost 15 yuan and pulled out a hundred-yuan note. Since the child had no change, Wu Zhenri asked the stall owner to help make change.

The stall owner, clearly displeased—perhaps feeling his business was being disrupted by this “little scoundrel”—glared fiercely, stamped his foot, and shouted at the child, “Get lost, damn it!”

Although the child left dejectedly, the owner’s outburst cast a tense mood over the place.

What should have been a warm, romantic, and intimate moment as Wu Zhenri presented the roses to Pei Hua was soured by the stall owner’s behavior. Pei Hua, still unsettled, placed the bouquet on an empty stool nearby and calmly said, “Zhenri, I’m not ready to accept these flowers, and honestly, neither are you.”

She sensed his gesture was somewhat perfunctory, though she didn’t say it so bluntly. Instead, she advised, “If you want to give flowers, it’s best to choose the right place and time, because love is both mysterious and sacred.”

Wu Zhenri stood, picked up the roses from the stool, and said, “Hua, I agree. Tonight, after dinner, I’ll find a private place to give you these roses again. You must accept them then!”

Pei Hua replied, “I need to think about it.” Her mind was a whirl, unsure if she was falling in love with Wu Zhenri or merely enchanted by the idea of the South—rumored to be more open and prosperous than the North—a dream she’d long harbored.

Now the opportunity was here: Wu Zhenri was from the South. Marrying him would mean becoming part of the South, becoming a Southern daughter-in-law. She imagined this beautifully but couldn’t quite distinguish whether her feelings were for the South itself or for the young Southern man before her.

In any case, with his authentic Southern background, she resolved to love him, obey him, follow him, and ultimately give herself to him.

That very night, after leaving the food stall, Wu Zhenri took her to a hotel. Bathed in the soft pink glow of the room’s lighting, she accepted the bouquet he presented—a bouquet originally purchased from the same flower-selling child. In this undisturbed, intimate moment, she embraced the roses tightly against her chest, as if holding Wu Zhenri’s love itself.

That night, Pei Hua surrendered her chastity to Wu Zhenri, who had coveted her for some time.

Yet, what is easily obtained is often not cherished. Wu Zhenri was not satisfied with Pei Hua; his heart grew more restless, his desires bolder.

One weekend evening, while strolling through the brightly lit, bustling main street with Pei Hua, Wu Zhenri seemed uninterested in the lively scene, his eyes darting about as if searching for some thrill.

Suddenly, he paused at a watch repair stall bathed in dazzling lights, pushing Pei Hua’s arm away from his shoulder and stepping closer to the stall.

The watch repairer was a young woman with shoulder-length hair and creamy skin—a striking beauty. Pei Hua, with her darker complexion, felt inferior and anxious that such beauty might captivate Wu Zhenri’s heart.

As the watch repairer haggled with a customer, Pei Hua gently nudged Wu Zhenri and asked, “Are you thinking of fixing your watch?”

Wu Zhenri shook his head, tapping the phone clipped to his belt. “I have the time on my phone. No need for a watch—I’m just looking around.”

“What’s so interesting about that?” Pei Hua whispered, seemingly afraid the watch repairer might overhear.

Pei Hua knew her well—her name was Hu Mimi. A few years ago, they attended the same school, same grade but different classes. Hu Mimi’s beauty attracted many admirers and plenty of gossip.

Pei Hua’s strongest memory was of a violent rivalry between a boy from her own class and a boy from Hu Mimi’s class, both competing for Hu Mimi’s affection. The feud escalated into a brutal fight where Pei Hua’s classmate knocked out one of Hu Mimi’s suitors’ front teeth. The incident was so serious that the school expelled all three students involved.

As they walked down another street, Pei Hua recounted this story to Wu Zhenri, calling it a tragic love triangle.

Wu Zhenri thought, “She must be quite charming if boys would fight so fiercely for her,” and remarked, “Maybe one of those boys is still dating Hu Mimi.”

Pei Hua replied, “No, none of them succeeded. Because of the fight, Hu Mimi’s family opposed her seeing either of them, so she cut ties with both.”

“Do Hu Mimi and either of those boys get along now?” Wu Zhenri asked.

“That, I don’t know.”

Wu Zhenri found himself more interested in this topic than the beautiful nightscape around them, occasionally probing for more about Hu Mimi. Pei Hua, annoyed, either refused to answer or changed the subject.

Eventually, Wu Zhenri stopped asking but couldn’t shake his thoughts about Hu Mimi: her watch stall, her delicate hands working on timepieces—all vivid in his mind.

That night, when he brought Pei Hua back to their lodging and tried to be intimate, he was reluctant, lacking the heartfelt endearments of previous times. His mind wandered, thinking, “If only I could be with Hu Mimi, I’d be completely satisfied. That feeling might be a hundred times better than with Pei Hua.”