It wasn’t long before the doorbell rang.
A servant went to answer the door, but before she could even announce the visitor, a whirlwind of a figure came charging through the entrance and straight into the living room.
“Gu Xihe!”
Gu Wangshu turned toward the voice.
The newcomer was a tall young woman who looked about twenty-four or twenty-five. She wore sharply tailored black high-waisted wide-leg trousers and an ivory silk blouse, moving with such purpose that the air seemed to stir around her.
Her shoulder-length hair had been permed into the wavy curls that were all the rage at the moment. A tortoiseshell-colored wide headband held it back from her face, revealing an oval face with well-defined features.
She wasn’t beautiful in the conventional sense, but there was something vivid and lively about her, and her appearance was highly distinctive. She had a bright, spirited air about her.
She carried a brown leather briefcase in one hand and a paper bag printed with the words “Kee Wah Bakery” in the other.
She casually dropped both by the entrance without slowing down and headed straight for the sofa.
Then she threw her arms around Gu Wangshu.
She came at her with such force that her embrace was almost a tackle. Her arms clamped around Gu Wangshu’s shoulders, squeezing so hard that the bones in her back gave an audible crack.
The impact made Gu Wangshu stagger. Her legs were still weak, and she stumbled backward several steps before her lower back finally struck the armrest of the sofa, allowing her to regain her balance.
“Oh, goodness! Careful, careful!”
Auntie Wen was startled and quickly reached out to steady them both.
Only then did Zhang Ziyu realize how reckless she had been. She immediately let go and took half a step back, looking Gu Wangshu up and down. Her eyes instantly reddened.
Yet what came out of her mouth was completely at odds with her expression.
“I was only gone to Shenzhen!” she blurted out, her voice fast and anxious. “I wasn’t even there for a week! You… how could something like this have happened to you?”
Gu Wangshu looked at her.
As she stared at that lively face, so utterly incapable of hiding its emotions, a strange feeling suddenly welled up inside her.
She didn’t know Zhang Ziyu, yet this girl she had never met before was clutching the sleeve of her blouse with trembling fingers, her reddened eyes filled with such genuine concern and worry that Gu Wangshu’s throat tightened slightly.
It wasn’t concern for her.
It was for Gu Xihe.
At least this silly girl had a friend like that by her side.
Gu Wangshu quietly glanced at Auntie Wen.
Auntie Wen understood immediately. She stepped forward and said softly to Zhang Ziyu, “Miss Zhang, you don’t know yet, do you? My young lady doesn’t remember anything from before.”
Zhang Ziyu froze.
“…What?”
It took several seconds for her to find her voice, and when she did, her pitch rose unconsciously.
“What do you mean she doesn’t remember anything from before? You… you lost your memory?”
Gu Wangshu met her eyes and calmly nodded.
Zhang Ziyu’s mouth fell open even wider.
“You…”
“You don’t remember me?”
Gu Wangshu nodded again.
“Other than a few things from when I was little, I don’t remember anything else.”
Zhang Ziyu stood there in a daze, speechless for quite some time.
Then she took a deep breath and suddenly asked,
“That…”
Her tone had changed. The loud, impatient urgency from earlier was gone, replaced by a tentative, cautious softness.
“…That guy. You don’t remember him either?”
Gu Wangshu understood immediately.
She must be referring to Gu Xihe’s lover—the mainland man who worked as a clerk at a goldsmith’s shop, the man who had swallowed sleeping pills with her and then called for emergency medical help at the last possible moment.
Gu Wangshu shook her head.
“I don’t remember him.”
Zhang Ziyu fell silent for two or three seconds.
Then she sighed.
“Maybe it’s better that you don’t remember.”
“He was nothing but a spineless bastard anyway.”
Gu Wangshu said nothing.
There were some things she had no right to judge.
The two of them sat down on the sofa.
Zhang Ziyu sat to Gu Wangshu’s left, leaving about the width of a cushion between them. She crossed one leg over the other and rested her briefcase on her lap, looking so relaxed that she might as well have been sitting in her own home.
Auntie Wen came out of the kitchen carrying the soup she had been simmering.
As soon as she lifted the lid, a rich cloud of steam rose into the air, carrying the fragrant scent of medicinal herbs and the savory sweetness of chicken.
American ginseng and silky fowl soup.
Silky fowl was a small black-boned chicken with fine bones and tender meat, one of the Cantonese people’s favorite ingredients for nourishing soups.
Auntie Wen had used an entire silky fowl, chopped into large pieces, and simmered it together with thinly sliced American ginseng over low heat for a full three hours.
She carefully ladled out two bowls.
“Drink it while it’s hot.” She handed one bowl to Gu Wangshu, then passed the other to Zhang Ziyu, continuing to fuss over them.
“American ginseng replenishes the qi, and silky fowl nourishes the blood. It’s perfect for your condition right now, Miss. I also added some astragalus and codonopsis root, but not much, just a little. It won’t make you too ‘heaty.’”
Zhang Ziyu accepted the bowl and blew on it before taking a large sip. It was so hot that she grimaced, but she still managed to praise it through the heat.
“Delicious. Auntie Wen, your soup-making skills have improved again.”
Auntie Wen laughed.
“If you like it, have some more.”
Zhang Ziyu blew on the steaming soup as she drank, then turned her head and glanced at Gu Wangshu.
“Are you still going to Shenzhen with me next week?”
“Shenzhen?” Gu Wangshu looked up, her spoon suspended in midair.
Zhang Ziyu slapped a hand against her forehead.
“Oh, right. I forgot—you don’t remember.”
She set down her bowl and shifted her position on the sofa, turning slightly toward Gu Wangshu with one arm draped over the cushion.
“Shenzhen used to be Bao’an County. When the mainland began its reform and opening-up in 1979, they established a special economic zone there, and Bao’an County became Shenzhen City.”
“You have no idea how much that place has changed. The first time I went a few years ago, there were foundations being dug and piles being driven everywhere. The whole place was just one huge, dusty construction site.”
“But this time—oh, wow! The International Trade Center is already finished. More than fifty stories high. It’s the tallest building in all of China! Everywhere you look, they’re putting up buildings, laying roads, opening factories. It changes every single day.”
“The energy there… how should I put it? It’s as if the entire city is a giant that has just woken up, stretching and growing with all its strength.”
Gu Wangshu listened quietly.
Shenzhen. A special economic zone. Reform and opening-up.
All of these things had happened after she died.
When she left this world in 1977, Bao’an was still an obscure little border county. In barely ten years, it had transformed into a brand-new city rising rapidly from the ground.
“Is it convenient to travel to the mainland now?” she asked.
“Going to Shenzhen is pretty easy,” Zhang Ziyu replied. “You’ve been there before. You already got your Home Return Permit sorted out.”
“What did I go there for before?” she asked.
The moment the question left her lips, Zhang Ziyu’s expression changed slightly.
She was silent for a while before sighing.
“Your Xinda Group cooperated with the mainland a couple of years ago to develop a property in Shenzhen. It’s called Yijing Villas.”
“You…”
She hesitated before continuing.
“You kept one of the houses there.”
“You originally planned to… to move to Shenzhen with that Mr. Wu and live there.”
Gu Wangshu understood.
So Gu Xihe’s plan to elope with that man hadn’t been a spur-of-the-moment decision.
She had even purchased property in Shenzhen and made preparations to start a new life there.
Unfortunately, that man had ultimately failed to go through with it.
Gu Wangshu pondered for a moment.
“You’re still going there next week?”
“Yes. I’ve arranged to interview someone,” Zhang Ziyu explained.
“Our magazine is preparing a special issue on Shenzhen. It’s about how the Special Economic Zone has developed over the past few years. I’m going to interview several Hong Kong businessmen who are doing business there.”
“Actually, it’s what Hong Kong people call ‘going north.’ A lot of Hong Kong businessmen are heading to Shenzhen now. They’re doing processing and assembly work, property development, factories—you name it. They say labor and land are cheaper over there, and there are plenty of opportunities to make money.”
Gu Wangshu nodded.
She lifted the bowl and finished the last mouthful of soup. The faint bitterness of the American ginseng lingered at the back of her tongue, but warmth had already spread through her stomach.
She placed the bowl back on the coffee table and raised her eyes to Zhang Ziyu.
“I’ll go with you.”