Till Death Do Us Part Chapter 19
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XIX
It was Monday the next day. Shen Liangsheng went into the office as usual and went out for dinner with Kobayakawa. When he returned home at ten o’clock, a servant told him Mr. Ch’in had dropped something off in the afternoon. Shen Liangsheng already knew the man would come while he was absent, so he only nodded his head in acknowledgement.
A month pa.s.sed without much drama. In mid-September, Shen Liangsheng received a letter from Jenny w.a.n.g in the States. Incidentally, she had already sent a telegram not long after the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, but she probably had felt that was insufficient and wrote this letter to say everything she wanted.
It was autumn by mid-September. The heat had left, but the chill had not set in because it had not rained yet. It was Sunday, and Shen Liangsheng was home for once. After writing the letter, he sat for a while. The window in the study was open, and the room was filled with the mild warmth of early autumn. However, somehow it felt as though it was winter. Shen Liangsheng always had strong self-control. He had already wiped away the pain in the beginning and did not miss the man much. But perhaps because of the letter from an old friend, or because of his little white lie, the door to his heart opened just a crack. As he sat there, he could almost hear the laughter and joy from the distant past. The end of the happy times glided over with the fresh chill of the previous winter and took a stroll through his inner house before gently floating away. Finally, the rain hit a few days later, and the temperature dropped. It started raining in the middle of the night. Ch’in Ching had not closed the windows and only had a light blanket, so the cold kept him from sleeping well. Amidst the drowsiness, he realized he had forgotten something very important, something to do with the weather. It was cold. And autumn had come… Oh no! Ch’in Ching suddenly remembered that Shen Liangsheng had told him his birthday was in July. Then, all that stuff happened in July and he completely forgot about it. Surely, Shen Liangsheng would be upset that he’d forgotten about his birthday, right? He should visit the shopping centre tomorrow after school and get the man a present to make up for it. Ch’in Ching didn’t realize until he was contemplating the choice of gifts that he didn’t need to buy anything – they’d already split, and they had nothing to do with each other. Ch’in Ching flipped to the other side. He wanted to get a thicker cover but was too lazy to move. The rain grew from a drizzle to a downpour. He pulled the thin blanket tighter around himself and fell asleep listening to the rain. When he woke the next morning, his nose was a bit stuffed like the beginning of a cold. His eyes were a bit puffy and wouldn’t open as though he had wept, but his pillow was dry. The temperature continued to drop. One day, Shen Liangsheng came home, had dinner and went upstairs. Soon, he came back down again. “Who laid out the rug in the den?” The servant he asked was not entirely sure and replied saying she laid it out because it had gotten cold. “Was it sent in for dry cleaning?” “Yes, but it wasn’t me….” “Fine. Thank you.” The servant walked away confused, wondering why the boss was suddenly interested in the interior decor when he had never been before. She was afraid that the rug was a taboo for Shen Liangsheng, but then she thought that the expensive rug would be a waste gathering dust in the storage. When Shen Liangsheng visited his father at the end of October for one of their usual talks, he noticed that the older man’s voice was hoa.r.s.e. He asked if it was a cold and if so, if he had taken any medicine. Shen K’echen waved his hand in dismissal. “It’s been like this for a while now. It hurts whenever I swallow.” He told his son that he had taken quite a lot of traditional medicine, but it did not help much. He thought the incident this summer caused him too much stress, and the anxiety built up, so it would take more than a day or two to get his body back to normal. He let out a long sigh. “This is what old age does to you.” With that said, he actually did appear older. “Maybe Western medicine will do you some good instead. I’ll ask Louis to come by tomorrow.” Louis was a doctor trained in Western medicine and Shen Liangsheng’s personal friend. He had been recommended by Shen Liangsheng to be Shen Sr.’s family doctor, but Shen K’echen thought Western medicine was toxic and not as mild as Chinese medicine. In the end, he never really called for Louis’s expertise. The next day, Louis came and recommended Shen Sr. to do a laryngoscopy after hearing the long-lasting symptoms. Shen K’echen was not too willing but consented to it after some persuasion on his son’s part. However, nothing significant came back on the results, and the ordeal ended with the prescription of some anti-inflammatory drugs. Then, nearly a month later, Shen Sr.’s coughing worsened to the point he coughed out blood one day. Only then did he panic and undergo a complete examination. This time, the doctor only told Shen Liangsheng the results, and this gave the older man some warning ahead of time. The doctor explained the illness, avoiding the horrible details. Laryngeal cancer was difficult to detect in its early stages, and surgery could be a possible option to consider. Tired of the euphemistic talk, Shen Liangsheng interrupted him and asked for specific information on the risks of surgery. In the end, he decided resolutely, “Then let’s have the operation.” To his father, Shen Liangsheng left some of the condition unsaid, saying there was a small tumour in his throat that just needed to be removed. But Shen Sr. was not stupid and knew more or less what exactly it was. Shen K’echen might have become fearful in recent years, but he had been a man who had been through h.e.l.l and high water. In the face of trouble, he became rather calm and accepted the operation proposal with an implicit and optimistic sense of hope for recovery. After much inquiring, Shen Liangsheng hired an American surgeon from Shanghai at a high price, and the results were satisfactory. The illness appeared to have come under control. Shen K’echen thought that it was the light at the end of the tunnel and was fairly high-spirited after the surgery. The Provisional Government of the Republic of China was established in Peip’ing in December that year, and after a branch was set up in Tientsin, the Peace Preservation Committee was dissolved. Kobayakawa still wanted to persuade Shen Liangsheng to join politics and work for him, but Shen Liangsheng had been busy arranging for his father’s operation. The latter first said he was not in the mood for this, and then he asked to push the issue until his father’s health had recovered. One thing led to another, and the matter stayed unaddressed even by February in the next year. However, not all of his words were excuses. Technically speaking, his father’s illness meant that Shen Liangsheng was one step closer to what he wanted, but he didn’t feel a single hint of happiness. As they say, dying men don’t lie. However, what was running through his mind as he waited outside the operating room while his father went under the knife was not how Shen K’echen had mistreated him in his childhood, but how good he was to him afterwards. Spring came again in March, the time of rebirth, but Shen Sr.’s condition took a dive for the worse. This time around the doctor did not recommend a second operation, nor was Shen K’echen strong enough to undergo another. The only way he could stay alive was through intravenous medication day in and day out. Shen Liangsheng moved back to the old mansion, and his brother began dropping by every day, too. As for whether his brother was sincerely concerned or just doing it for the estate, only he himself knew. Shen K’echen knew he was going to meet his end, but he didn’t want to see it as karma. He believed in the afterlife, and if this were karma, then he would have to suffer in the next life as well. Shen Liangsheng read his father’s thoughts and hired an enlightened Buddhist monk to read him scriptures. The monk spoke consoling words to him, all but promising him a good reincarnation and next life. While he was still conscious, the cautious Shen Sr. invited trusted confidants to Tientsin in addition to hiring lawyers in preparation for his will. His elder son, though greater in age, was lesser in brains and began snooping around trying to find details of the will. Meanwhile, Shen Liangsheng stayed put. The mediators were all loyal to their old man. How could have his older brother picked up any clues if Shen Liangsheng hadn’t already? Expectedly, Shen K’echen found out about his son’s sneaky behaviour almost right away. He was so enraged that he was slapping the bed, but because he was too weak to make much sound with his hands or to scold anyone with his voice, he ended up wheezing. Louis quickly gave him a shot of tranquilizer and made sure the man was all right before leaving. When the man woke up again the next morning, he could just about make out the silhouette of the person by his bed, a silhouette that he loved. He reached out feebly for the person’s hand and breathed in a raspy voice, “Chen-chen.” Shen Liangsheng was sitting by the bed when he felt his father’s hand on his. He did not catch what the older man had said, and he leaned down, asking softly, “What was that?” But his father did not answer. The man only shook his head as tears streamed down his face. Then, he closed his eyes tiredly and seemed to slip into slumber once again. It had been two days since Shen Liangsheng last went into the office, so he had to go today. He called over the nurses after watching his father for a few minutes. Walking out of the room and down the stairs, he lit a cigarette. Halfway down the staircase, Shen Liangsheng stopped in his tracks when he realized what his father had said – he had nearly forgotten that his mother’s Chinese name had the character “chen” in it.
It was in this moment that Shen Liangsheng finally admitted he was alone. The people in his life left him one after another, and he thought he didn’t care to the point he had almost forgotten his mother’s name.
Shen Liangsheng placed the slightly worn poetry collection by the pillow. He flipped to a random page that night before bed and began reading from there. He stopped at the end of a certain poem and read it over several times before closing the book, locking away the words that brought forth memories that had nothing to do with his mother.
The reason for the schoolmaster’s weight loss was actually his busy schedule. Things were looking bad in Tientsin, but Peip’ing had it worse, and all the nationalist organizations in Northern China relocated to Tientsin last year. All schools in Tientsin refused to stop Chinese lessons and to modify textbooks in defiance of the j.a.panese attempt to enslave China through education. Sheng Kung was a girl’s school and had few students to begin with, but now things were even harder. But in the words of Lao-Wu, the lessons had to go on, and the bigger the better. No way in h.e.l.l were they going to let Chinese children speak the tongue of the devil.
At their father’s funeral service, Shen Liangsheng was dressed in a black suit behind his brother, not shedding a single tear. Meanwhile, his brother was wailing, as though the more he cried the more of the estate he would get.
Shen Liangsheng had had no intentions of exacting revenge for his mother when he came back to China, but six years later, he did exactly that. Shen Liangsheng’s brother died in the end of that year from opium addiction. As for how he became addicted and how he died from it within a mere few months, it was a secret that only one man knew.
The January of Year Twenty-Eight was especially cold. The skies had been continuously overcast, signalling an imminent snowstorm.
The lady did not realize until Shen Liangsheng was in front of her. She shot up from her seat and looked at him with anxious eyes, forgetting to even greet the man.
Miss Ts’ui was not a Tientsin local. Her name was Chao-ti, a name so common that it could not be any more common. Her appearance was nothing extraordinary, just a fair-skinned girl, but her soft disposition made her seem extra pitiful.
“I…I don’t want much….” After hearing the man’s gentle invitation, she stopped sobbing, but the words coming from her mouth were still jumbled. “I’ll raise the child myself. I’ll be the best mother…. I just want a ticket home.”
Hearing her story, Shen Liangsheng found the rare urge to be kind. This time it had nothing to do with the certain someone but with the urgent tone in which she spoke about her unborn child. No matter who the father was, hearing a mother’s concern for the child tugged at Shen Liangsheng’s heartstrings. After he found out that she had nowhere to stay, he decided to go the entire way. He planned to have her stay in a guestroom for a few days until he bought a ticket and found someone to escort her back.
The train ticket was for the twenty-second of January. A heavy snowfall hit the city on the night of the twenty-first which the Wong Lik predicted perfectly as Tahan.
They got into the car after the bags. The secretary sat in the pa.s.senger seat while the boss accompanied Ts’ui Chao-ti in the back.
Till Death Do Us Part Chapter 19
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Till Death Do Us Part Chapter 19 summary
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