Chapter 78: In an Instant

Compared to Zhao Jing, Huanzi was even more self-centered, paying no mind to anything Zhao Jing said. She continued cracking sunflower seeds as she chatted with Huang Guolun: “That careless incident was embarrassing, but it started the long, tangled, sticky relationship between Duck and Zhao Yijun, which lasted nearly six years. It finally ended two years ago. Teacher Huang, do you know why Duck came to Beijing to open her shop?”

Huang Guolun guessed, “Because Zhao Yijun is in Beijing?”

“Exactly. That silly girl was already dumped but still believed in the possibility of a fairy-tale miracle. Fortunately, she’s been blessed these past two years and hasn’t fallen back in. After attending a few services with me, she was no longer hurt by that relationship.” Huanzi put on a devout expression and said, “Ever since she prayed with me, she hasn’t been wounded by it anymore.”

Huang Guolun suddenly felt the conversation was veering off course—was Huanzi trying to sell him her faith? As a fatalist, Huang Guolun believed in some divinity, but he never gave it form. To him, perhaps fate itself was god.

Seeing Huanzi about to steer the topic toward “the Lord,” Huang Guolun quickly pulled it back. He asked, “Does Zhao Yan still keep in touch with Zhao Yijun?”

“No, they haven’t spoken in ages. After breaking up for good two years ago, Duck never contacted Zhao Yijun again. But I’m sure she hasn’t forgotten him in her heart. They say that what you can’t let go of will echo back someday. This time, Zhao Yijun gave her a big echo, making her give up completely.”

“What echo?” Huang Guolun asked quietly.

“Zhao Yijun is getting married. We only heard about it last week from a high school classmate. After learning the news, Duck was cheerful all day, acting as if nothing was wrong. But I know she was crying inside. Sigh…” With a sympathetic sigh, Huanzi continued, “Teacher Huang, Duck is a very simple person. She’s not like me—I’ve had many relationships.”

Huang Guolun listened impassively, but was a bit surprised—Huanzi had had many relationships? Truly, you can’t judge a book by its cover!

Huanzi spoke naturally, not the least bit embarrassed, and went on, “Duck has only loved one person in her entire life. Who knows how long it will take for her to love a second. Sometimes I think she’s quite unlucky. Her family is well-off, she’s got good qualities; if she hadn’t met Zhao Yijun, she might have found happiness long ago, maybe even gotten married and had children. But fate had her meet Zhao Yijun. That’s destiny—and her own choice. I often tell her, the way she lives now, she shouldn’t blame anyone but herself. Every second she suffers, every pain she endures, she’s paying for her own past choices. If she really wants to escape that pain, she should embrace the Lord, let Him help her forget her troubles and heal her wounds.”

Huang Guolun shuddered involuntarily. This chubby girl always managed to steer the conversation back to the Lord—was she obsessed?

“Teacher Huang, do you believe in fate?”

Suddenly asked, Huang Guolun replied instinctively, “I suppose I do.”

Huanzi widened her eyes, feigning mystery. “I feel you and Duck are quite destined. Her first love is about to get married, and at this moment you appeared and lent her a hand. All of this is a sign, do you see? Duck and her friends call you a genius—do you know who Salome is?”

“Salome?”

“It’s the name of this shop—Salome.” Huanzi pointed to the sign on the wall and explained, “Salome is a character from the Bible. One of Duck’s favorite writers, Wilde, wrote a play called Salome based on her story from the Bible—it’s quite famous in the West. But the Salome in the play and the one in the Bible are quite different. In the Bible, Salome is a symbol of purity and beauty; she is peerlessly beautiful and innocent. Because she was so innocent, her mother—filled with desire—used her to kill John the Baptist.”

Listening to Huanzi’s tale, Huang Guolun wore a faintly bitter smile. He wasn’t fond of such stories, but out of politeness, he didn’t interrupt.

Huanzi continued, “Duck is a bit like the Salome in the Bible. She’s innocent, beautiful, and full of melancholy…”

Before Huanzi finished, Zhao Jing barged back in, carrying a hand drum.

She entered the private room just as Huanzi was describing Zhao Yan’s melancholy.

Zhao Jing interrupted, “My sister’s melancholy is a sickness! It can’t be cured, but it must be treated!”

Huang Guolun, feeling as if he’d found a savior, quickly got up to help Zhao Jing move the drum, eager to escape Huanzi’s ethereal stories.

Zhao Jing also disliked Huanzi’s tales, especially her tendency to tell everyone about her sister’s past, afraid others would know about her sister’s painful romantic history.

To be honest, Zhao Jing didn’t much like Huanzi.

She even thought Huanzi was mentally unwell, always so mysterious and superstitious.

In Zhao Jing's view, if it weren’t for Huanzi’s constant influence, her sister would’ve forgotten that lousy painter long ago and maybe already started a new relationship.

Huanzi didn’t work, lived off her sister, ate her food, drank her drinks, and often crashed at her place.

Whenever they went out to eat, Huanzi never paid. No matter what they did, it was always Zhao Yan who spent the money.

Huanzi’s presence brought no benefit, only chaos.

Oh, wait, not entirely no benefit. Huanzi did help preserve her sister’s chastity.

Under the influence of this devout Christian, her sister had never given herself to that painter, never let him take advantage. That was at least something.

That was the only positive influence Huanzi had on her sister; aside from that, Zhao Jing couldn’t think of a single way Huanzi helped.

Zhao Jing had never understood why her sister would befriend someone like Huanzi, let alone pledge lifelong loyalty as best friends.

If she had such a friend, she’d have kicked her out long ago!

Not letting Huanzi “bother” Huang Guolun any further, Zhao Jing carried the drum to the sofa and said to the two, “Let’s stop talking about my sister and play the drum. Teacher Huang, after hearing you play last time, I got interested. I’ve been practicing at my sister’s shop, and now I’m pretty good.”

“Really? Play a bit for me.” Compared to listening to Bible stories from Huanzi, Huang Guolun definitely preferred watching Zhao Jing play the drum.

Before playing, Zhao Jing asked Huang Guolun, “Have you been to Lijiang?”

“I went when I was young.”

“You’re not old now, are you?” Zhao Jing smiled serenely, tilted her head, swept her flowing hair back with flair, and began tapping the drum. With rhythmic beats, she told Huang Guolun, “I’ll play you a tune often heard on the streets of Lijiang. When I visited, I heard it so often I almost got sick of it. But after learning to play it myself, I find it quite fun.”

As she spoke, Zhao Jing played the drum music from the classic “A Moment,” which was all the rage in Lijiang back then.

Though still a beginner, Zhao Jing played well, especially her sense of rhythm, which made Huang Guolun nod along almost involuntarily.

Seeing the two engrossed in conversation, Huanzi looked displeased, dusted off her sunflower seed shells, and tried to find an opening to finish what she’d wanted to say to Huang Guolun, but couldn’t get a word in.

She had been telling Huang Guolun about Salome—not the biblical Salome, but the more famous Russian exile, Salome.

This Salome was a gifted writer and an unconventional feminist. She was loved by Nietzsche, admired by Freud, and lived and traveled with Rilke. People called her “the woman who conquered geniuses.”

Originally, when Huanzi named Zhao Yan’s shop “Salome,” it had nothing to do with this woman who conquered geniuses.

But recently, with the sudden appearance of Huang Guolun, praised as a genius by both Zhao Yan and Zhao Jing, and with the timing so coincidental, Huanzi—always seeking divine signs—felt that Huang Guolun’s encounter with Zhao Yan at Salome Café was an omen.

Perhaps, when Zhao Yan opened this café and named it Salome, it was destined to bring these two together.

Her reason for emphasizing that Huang Guolun was a genius was to tell him that Zhao Yan might well be the woman who conquers this genius.

Unfortunately, Zhao Jing’s interruption left her no chance to reveal this divine sign to Huang Guolun.

Maybe the Lord thought the time wasn’t right, that these two weren’t meant to know yet.

So Huanzi decided not to say any more. She grabbed a handful of American almonds from the fruit tray and ate them one after another.

On Huang Guolun’s side, he watched Zhao Jing play the drum with great interest.

He’d seen Zhao Jing tap water glasses and heard her sing before; at the time, he’d noticed her excellent sense of rhythm, though her pitch was less precise.

Usually, those who haven’t practiced music from a young age don’t have absolute pitch. Whether singing or playing instruments, their pitch control is amateurish.

Now, watching Zhao Jing play the drum, her rhythm was still impressive, but when she got excited and started singing, her lack of pitch accuracy was immediately apparent.

Zhao Jing sang happily, not caring about anything else—as long as she was happy.

She sang the classic “A Moment”—

“Just in this moment / I realize / you are by my side
Just in this moment / I realize / your face has faded
I can forget everything / except your face
Anything can change / just let me see you once again…”

Huang Guolun was amused by Zhao Jing’s slightly off-key singing.

Zhao Jing sensed a hint of awkward disdain in Huang Guolun’s smile.

She shot him a look and asked, “Why are you laughing? Am I not singing well?”

“Ahem,”

Huang Guolun coughed and said, “You’d better focus on drumming.”

Zhao Jing retorted, “Don’t laugh at me—I haven’t shown you my real talent yet!”

Huang Guolun asked curiously, “What talent?”

Huanzi couldn’t stand it anymore. She felt Zhao Jing was flirting with Huang Guolun—seducing her sister’s future boyfriend! Shameless!

So she interjected loudly on Zhao Jing’s behalf, “Breaking stones on your chest!”