Let’s Have a Talk

Shen Mo blinked in confusion. “Nothing special, he’s just a classmate.”

She counted on her fingers as she spoke. “He sits next to me. He’s our class monitor and the top student in our grade, but he doesn’t like to pay attention in class.”

“When the teacher lectures, he always reads his own books underneath, but he still knows everything the teacher covers. I think he’s really smart!”

“And, and, his family isn’t well-off, so every morning he rides his bike to the street to buy buns and brings them for a lot of people, three or four hundred buns.”

“I asked him why, and he said the more he buys, the cheaper they are, so he can earn back his breakfast money… Grandma, don’t tell anyone, okay? If you let it slip, maybe people will stop buying buns from him.”

The old woman nodded, smiling, and promised seriously, “Alright, Grandma won’t say a word.”

Shen Mo tilted her head, thinking. “Other than that… well, he’s good-looking.”

“That’s a fine quality.”

The smile on the old woman’s face widened as she asked, “Why did he come to your aunt’s house today?”

“To return books. Didn’t I tell you?”

“Anything else?”

Shen Mo shook her head. The old woman seemed to ponder briefly, murmuring to herself, “His family lives in the countryside, not in the best situation…”

Shen Mo asked in confusion, “Grandma, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The old woman shook her head with a smile. Shen Mo said, “If there’s nothing, I’m going over. Otherwise, when Fang Chang’an arrives and sees my aunt and uncle aren’t home, he’ll definitely think I lied to him.”

The old woman laughed, “You could just call your uncle’s house and let them know.”

Shen Mo bit her lip stubbornly. “No, I want to wait for him.”

“All right, Grandma will go with you.”

Peng Shuyu sighed, took her granddaughter’s small hand, and stood up, calling inside, “Sister Liang, I’m taking Mo Mo out for a bit.”

“Okay!” came the woman’s reply from within.

Peng Shuyu went to change her shoes. Shen Mo followed, saying, “It’s close, Grandma, and I’m old enough now. I won’t get kidnapped. You don’t need to come—it’s hot outside.”

Peng Shuyu replied with a smile, “Grandma needs some exercise too. Can’t sit at home all day. Let’s go.”

Only then did Shen Mo let her grandmother take her hand, and together they walked out the door.

There was no cadre courtyard in town; many people commuted, living in the county seat and coming here to work. Shen Baoguo, having served in town for quite some time and nearing retirement, bought a house in town, only a few minutes’ walk from Shen Chengyan’s home.

The old and the young quickly arrived at Shen Chengyan’s house. Seeing Fang Chang’an hadn’t arrived yet, Shen Mo relaxed. She thought her grandmother would leave after dropping her off, but Peng Shuyu sat down in the living room with her.

The aunt busied herself pouring tea. Peng Shuyu smiled, “No need to fuss. I’ll just sit for a bit and see Mo Mo’s classmate, then I’ll leave.”

Shen Mo asked, puzzled, “Grandma, why do you want to see Fang Chang’an?”

Peng Shuyu smiled, “You talk about him so much, Grandma’s curious.”

But the truth was more complicated.

Shen Mo had grown up with her grandparents, living a peaceful life. Her parents did business elsewhere, and nothing in their world should have entangled her. Yet, since early this year, rumors circulated that Shen Mo’s uncle would be transferred to Yunlong City, and suddenly some resourceful individuals began scheming to use her, a child, as a roundabout way to forge connections.

It was laughable, naturally ineffective, but it sounded a warning bell for the elderly couple.

Though nothing had harmed Shen Mo, having such calculating people around her from a young age—especially as a girl—was far from a happy circumstance.

Peng Shuyu, always cautious and with nothing pressing to do, decided that, even knowing Fang Chang’an was unlikely to pose a problem, she’d come herself for peace of mind.

The grandmother and granddaughter played a game of chess in the first-floor living room. As they were resetting the pieces, they heard the sound of a bicycle in the yard. Shen Mo gave a soft “ah” and said, “That must be Fang Chang’an.”

She stood and went outside, and indeed saw Fang Chang’an parking his bike in the yard. She called out joyfully, “Fang Chang’an!”

After riding for miles, Fang Chang’an’s legs were sore, and the ground felt especially friendly beneath his feet. Seeing Shen Mo come out to greet him surprised him. He smiled and replied, “Why are you here? Where’s Teacher Cheng?”

“Aunt and uncle went to the city. They won’t be back until after four. I called you, but you’d already left, so I came here to wait for you.”

As she spoke, Shen Mo noticed Fang Chang’an taking a bag of vegetables from the bike’s front basket. She asked curiously, “What’s that?”

“Vegetables—cucumbers, beans, tomatoes, green peppers, corn, and peanuts. Don’t you recognize them?”

The girl pouted. “I do. I was asking why you brought them. Are you cooking for yourself?”

“My parents heard I’d be borrowing books and eating at Teacher Cheng’s house and felt bad, so they picked some vegetables from the field as a token of thanks. I helped my dad pick them before I left—they’re really fresh.”

Peng Shuyu, sitting in the living room, listened to the conversation outside, her face softening with warmth and relief.

Then she heard the boy say, “Oh, and I brought a grasshopper. I wove it from grass I pulled in our field while picking vegetables, especially for you. Do you like it?”

The old woman’s smile froze for a moment before she chuckled again.

Hearing the commotion, the aunt came outside, a bit reserved as she glanced at the elder. Peng Shuyu smiled and gestured for her to greet them.

The aunt remembered Fang Chang’an. When she saw what he carried, she smiled, “All freshly picked? That’s wonderful. Teacher Cheng loves smashed cucumber, especially when it’s fresh…”

Fang Chang’an smiled, “I’ll bring more next week. Our field’s getting replanted, so there should be new produce.”

The aunt took both bags. Fang Chang’an reached for his backpack, but Shen Mo had already carried it inside.

He stomped his feet on the mat in the entryway, then followed her into the living room, where he saw an elderly woman, about fifty or sixty, sitting with relaxed dignity on the sofa, regarding him with a gentle smile.

Shen Mo turned and smiled at him. “This is my grandmother.”

Fang Chang’an’s mind worked quickly; he didn’t try to hide anything. He gave a polite smile and bowed slightly. “Hello.”

“Hello to you,” the old woman replied kindly. “Next time you’re home, thank your parents for us.”

“Sure,” Fang Chang’an agreed with a smile, not bothering with formalities or saying more.

He didn’t know much, but since Shen Chengyan and Cheng Mengfei lived alone, and the elder appeared here today, it was likely because of Shen Mo, to meet him specifically.

With so many unknowns, caution was best—less said, less wrong.

The old woman watched his expression, smiling. “Go wash your face first.”

It wasn’t hot today, but Fang Chang’an had ridden over ten miles, so his face was sweaty. He went to the downstairs bathroom, washed his face, dried it with a paper towel, and returned.

The old woman beckoned from the sofa. “Sit down.”

“Okay.”

Fang Chang’an walked over, noticing his backpack placed on the west side sofa opposite the old woman, while Shen Mo and the elder sat on the east side.

Peng Shuyu observed the boy from a poor rural family, surprised in her heart.

At twelve or thirteen, the atmosphere of his upbringing should have enveloped him, but what she saw in this small boy was an inner vitality and upward energy. Aside from his clean but slightly worn clothes, there was almost no trace of rural poverty about him.

She smiled and asked, “Do you drink tea?”

Fang Chang’an replied, “I do.”

Peng Shuyu smiled and called out, “Auntie, bring two cups of tea. There’s still some leaves left, right?”

“There are.” The aunt quickly responded, coming out and wiping her hands on her apron, a bit embarrassed as she asked, “What kind of tea? I don’t know how to use that…”

She gestured to the full set of teaware in the cupboard.

Peng Shuyu laughed, “There’s still some Dragon Well from last time? Use glass cups, that’s fine.”

“Alright.”

The aunt took three glass cups, went to the kitchen to rinse them.

Peng Shuyu turned to Fang Chang’an. “Mo Mo said you borrowed books from Teacher Cheng—what did you borrow?”

Fang Chang’an answered honestly, “A copy of ‘Fortress Besieged’ and the first volume of ‘The Complete Works of Lu Xun.’”

Peng Shuyu looked a bit surprised. “Finished them?”

Fang Chang’an nodded. “I finished.”

Peng Shuyu saw he was a bit reserved, but his words and manner were calm, not like someone lying. She asked, “Did you understand them?”

“Some parts, most I didn’t. I just read them as stories.”

The old woman smiled and nodded, “Reading them as stories is good—they are stories, after all. Just like how you memorize ancient poems now, many you don’t understand, but you’re forced to memorize them. When you grow up, you’ll understand what they mean.”

Fang Chang’an nodded, then glanced at her, looking as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

The old woman smiled, “You want to say something? Go ahead, don’t be afraid.”

Fang Chang’an smiled shyly. “I’m afraid I’ll say something wrong and you’ll laugh.”

The old woman said, “It’s alright, speak your mind. I won’t laugh.”

Fang Chang’an thought for a moment before saying, “I just remembered something you said… not an opinion, just a thought. In TV shows—costume dramas, I mean—little kids, just a few years old, recite ‘At the beginning, man’s nature is good’ and such, starting with ‘The Three Character Classic’ and ‘The Thousand Character Classic,’ and then the Four Books and Five Classics, all must be memorized.”

“Classical Chinese is even harder to understand. They’re so young, they can’t possibly grasp it, but still have to memorize—so it’s like you said: when they grow up, they’ll understand. Isn’t that the same idea?”

He said this not to show off, nor was the thought itself important, but simply to further establish his image as someone who likes to think.

Peng Shuyu listened, sizing him up, silent for a while. Her gaze was no longer surprised, but astonished.

Fang Chang’an, sensing he’d struck the right balance, showed a hint of unease. “Did… did I say something wrong?”