Chen Man frowned, turned back, and said to Zhong Kaihui, “Don’t come to my company anymore. When we have time, we’ll go register the divorce.”
Zhong Kaihui gripped the back seat even harder.
The garage was dim, and the faint light made Zhong Kaihui’s face look somewhat gloomy. “Chen Man, you’ve made your point. What more do you want from me? There’s nothing wrong between us. Why do we have to get a divorce when everything’s fine?”
Chen Man said coldly, “Zhong Kaihui, don’t avoid it. We’ve had plenty of problems—too many to count. Just know that my decision is made.”
With that, she hit the gas. Afraid of being dragged down, Zhong Kaihui instinctively let go. By the time he tried to grab the car again, Chen Man was already far away.
Zhong Kaihui went home angrily. He pushed open the door and walked straight in without even changing his shoes.
Liu Hongjuan poked her head out of the kitchen. “Why are you back so late, Chen Man? I don’t mean to criticize you, but what kind of daughter-in-law throws a tantrum like you and needs my son to coax her back?”
Zhong Kaihui didn’t answer. He plopped down on the sofa.
“I’m talking to you.” Liu Hongjuan came out wiping her hands, then glanced at the closed door. “Chen Man didn’t come back with you?”
“She didn’t come back.” Zhong Kaihui’s voice was muffled.
Liu Hongjuan froze for a moment, then walked over. “She’s completely out of line! You went to pick her up yourself and she still won’t come back—does she expect me to fetch her with an eight-carrier sedan?”
Zhong Kaihui suddenly raised his head. “Just shut up! She wants to divorce me.”
“What?” Liu Hongjuan’s voice turned shrill. “On what grounds?”
“You tell me on what grounds. This is all your fault. Couldn’t you just say less?” Zhong Kaihui looked at her, his eyes full of resentment.
Liu Hongjuan felt a pang of unease under his gaze.
“So what if I said a few words?” Her voice grew even louder. “What have I ever done wrong by her? I waited on her hand and foot! What kind of daughter-in-law is she, never home all day?”
“You drove her grandmother out. That grandmother is her only family—of course she’s upset!” Zhong Kaihui said, word by word. “And you still think you did nothing wrong?”
Liu Hongjuan stood frozen.
The living room fell quiet. The pork rib soup on the stove burbled away.
Liu Hongjuan turned back into the kitchen and turned off the fire. She untied her apron and flung it onto the cutting board.
“Ungrateful wretch! She even dares to talk about divorce—who’d want her after leaving my son?” She kept her voice low, growing angrier as she spoke. “She can’t even have children, and my son hasn’t said he’d dump her yet!”
Liu Hongjuan ladled out a bowl of soup for Zhong Kaihui and set it on the coffee table in front of him, a plan already forming in her mind.
……
In the thirty-square-meter rental apartment, the smell of cooking oil lingered in the air. Chen Man brought the last dish—the soup—to the table and wiped her hands.
These dishes had been made by Chen Fangchun: braised pork ribs with potatoes, stir-fried Shanghai greens, spicy stir-fried bean sprouts, and a pot of seaweed and egg drop soup. Except for the ribs, these were all dishes Chen Man used to eat often.
Chen Fangchun sat at the table, looking at the plates and then at Chen Man. “I won’t make this much next time. The two of us can’t finish it all.”
“I have to work overtime later.” Chen Man sat down and ladled a bowl of soup for her grandmother. “I’ll bring some for my coworkers.”
Chen Fangchun said, “That’s fine too. Pack it up in advance, and put in more of the ribs.”
“Mm.”
When Chen Man had gone out to buy groceries earlier, she had already bought some lunch boxes, but this much food wasn’t enough—she’d have to make more later.
The two of them ate. Chen Man ate quickly, her mind on getting back to the office afterward. Her chopsticks tapped lightly against the rim of her bowl.
“Manman.” Chen Fangchun set down her chopsticks.
“Hm?”
“Xiaohui came by today.”
Chen Man’s hand paused mid-bite. “What did he say to you?”
“He wants you to move back home,” Chen Fangchun said, looking at her. “It really doesn’t look good, you living out here like this. You should go back! Everything’s in the kitchen, and I can take my medicine myself. Don’t worry about me—I’m not senile. I can manage everything.”
Chen Fangchun loved knitting sweaters. Afraid she’d be bored at home alone, Chen Man had specially bought her yarn and needles, and even given her an old phone so she could watch TV dramas.
Chen Man said nothing, putting the food in her mouth and chewing slowly.
“Manman, life together as a couple isn’t easy. When I was young, your grandfather and I fought too. But after the fights, life went on.”
Chen Fangchun continued, “What couple hasn’t been through that?”
Outside the window, a car passed, its lights sliding across the wall before fading into darkness.
Chen Man picked up her bowl and took a sip of soup. “I know. I’ll stay a few days until Grandma gets used to things, then I’ll go back.”
Chen Fangchun brightened at once. “Good. I knew you weren’t one to sulk.”
After dinner, in the residential compound, three aunties were dancing to music from a speaker, with a few people playing with their kids nearby—quite lively.
Chen Man told Chen Fangchun to go down for a stroll to help her digestion; she would tidy up and head to the office.
Afraid Chen Man might think she couldn’t adjust, Chen Fangchun grabbed her keys, wrapped the phone in a plastic bag, tucked it into her pocket, and slowly made her way downstairs.
Chen Man quickly stir-fried another dish of eggplant and green beans, smashed some garlic cucumber, packed everything into a lunch box, and put it in her canvas bag.
She worked quickly and efficiently; by the time she finished, twenty minutes had passed. She hurried downstairs and found Chen Fangchun sitting by the flower bed.
“Grandma, you still remember how to use the phone I taught you, right? Call me if anything comes up. I’ve got to go.”
“Good, I remember. Take it slow on the road.” Chen Fangchun urged, watching her wind-tousled hair and the sweat on the tip of her nose, feeling a pang of terness.
“Head back after you’ve played a while.” Chen Man waved.
“I know.”
Chen Fangchun had spent a long time watching from the window during the day, so she was already familiar with the area.
Chen Man put on her helmet, got on her electric scooter, and rode off. By the time she reached the office, thirty minutes had passed because of the evening rush hour traffic.
“Sorry, sorry—there was some traffic, I’m almost there.” Chen Man texted Yang Jun to apologize.
She sent a voice message, and the sound of her panting could be heard. Playing out loud, it made Liang Jinfeng stop writing and pinch the bridge of his nose.
Liang Jinfeng got up, poured himself a coffee, and stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, where he saw the woman downstairs—wearing blue jeans, a striped shirt, her hair in a low bun—enter the building.
Yang Jun replied: “We’re just taking a ten-minute break. Come on up, we’re waiting for you.”
Three minutes after the message was sent, Chen Man knocked on the door.
Yang Jun opened it and saw a hint of fluster on Chen Man’s usually calm face. He laughed. “A few minutes doesn’t matter. Where’s the food you brought?”
Chen Man nodded to him. Liang Jinfeng, who had been standing with his back to the floor-to-ceiling window, turned around and sat down on the black sofa in the office. Chen Man nodded to him too and took the lunch box out of her bag.
Yang Jun went over to gather the documents from over there and set them aside for now. When he turned back, he saw her taking a lunch box out of her bag. Somewhat surprised, he first glanced at Liang Jinfeng, whose expression gave nothing away.
“You made this yourself?” Yang Jun asked, then added, “It smells pretty good.”
At his words, Chen Man suddenly realized what Yang Jun had meant earlier—he’d been telling her to get takeout from a restaurant. But because she had cooked for President Liang before, she had just assumed.
Chen Man didn’t quite dare look at Liang Jinfeng, who was sitting in front of her with only a coffee table between them, and her voice dropped considerably. “It’s just simple home cooking. If it’s not to your taste…”
She fumbled for her phone, about to pull it out to order food, when Liang Jinfeng moved.