Chapter 8: Chuanxiong

The “game disaster duo” had once again come in last.

The first round ended, and the second wasn’t filmed right away so the women could rest. Jiang Baizhi had gotten ink on her hands and went to find the nearest restroom to wash it off. Qi Banxia followed her out almost as soon as she did. She still couldn’t make sense of things and wanted to test a theory.

Water rushed into the sink. Qi Banxia rounded the corner of the stone-and-tile building and went inside, closing the door behind her. She turned on the tap and laced her slender white fingers together, gently rubbing them clean. Her red lips pursed before she glanced sideways, as if making casual conversation. “Old Cadre, what made you decide to post to Moments today?” She’d sometimes used the nickname as a joke back in school.

At that, Jiang Baizhi’s hand stopped for a moment, though her expression didn’t change. She went on scrubbing at the ink stains. “Mom told me to take more pictures of us together. I didn’t find the chance, so I just secretly took a few of you by yourself.”

So she really had been overthinking it. After hours of fretting, Qi Banxia finally relaxed. She raised her voice. “Then take one now!”

“Here?” Jiang Baizhi frowned and glanced around. Three bathroom stalls stood beside them.

Qi Banxia walked to the corner on the right of the sink and beckoned to her. “It’s fine. This wall’s just the right color.” And so, in a restroom far from home, they took their first picture together since getting married.

On the way back, Qi Banxia wore a smile she hadn’t shown in ages. Maybe it was because she’d spent some time alone with Jiang Baizhi, or maybe she’d finally put her worries aside.

“What are you smiling about?” Jiang Baizhi walked beside her.

“I’m laughing at the way a certain Old Cadre deliberately opened her eyes wide while she was taking a picture.”

“My eyes are small. Even with contacts, they’re not as big as yours.”

“You said contacts, not colored ones.”

Jiang Baizhi unconsciously touched the bridge of her nose. “I’ll go back to my glasses once we’re done filming. I’m used to them.”

Qi Banxia had once told her she liked her in glasses. They gave her the air of a highly educated intellectual, with just a hint of cool restraint.

But Jiang Baizhi was severely nearsighted. Anything more than fifteen feet away blurred together until she couldn’t tell a person from an animal.

Qi Banxia was a Leo. Her moods came and went quickly. By the second game, she seemed like a different person and even took the initiative to ask about the rules.

One person acted something out while the other guessed. The game tested their literary knowledge, but also how well the best friends worked together. The answers were four-character idioms or the titles of poems, so the questions were a little harder than usual.

Qi Banxia’s team went first. She acted while Lang Yiqiu guessed, and the other women gathered around to watch.

“Four-character idiom. The first character is what we were catching in the mud yesterday afternoon.”

“Mud?”

The women burst into laughter.

Qi Banxia nearly lost her temper.

“Fish! Fish!” Lang Yiqiu scratched her head and answered sheepishly.

“The second character. What did Lord Ye love?”

“Dragons! Mixed fish and dragons—fish and dragons all jumbled together!”

“That’s right.”

“Three characters. The title of a poem. The first character: what is this?” Qi Banxia spread her hands and kept stretching them wider.

“Hands?”

“No.” She had an idea. “The opposite of short.”

“Long.”

“For the last two characters: what kind of bean is the red bean also called?”

“What bean? Soybean?”

…

“No! A Tang dynasty poet wrote, ‘May you gather them in abundance; this thing is the most…’”

“Longing! The Longing Song!” Lang Yiqiu guessed correctly and threw her clenched fist into the air, unable to hide her excitement.

They guessed eight questions in the allotted time and took the lead. After all four teams had played, they held on to their advantage until the end. The game disaster duo had finally won one.

Just as they thought the round was over, the production team added a bonus question. The team that solved the riddle would win two pounds of crawfish. The prize was so tempting that the women perked up.

Qi Banxia’s eyes had been closed as she rested, but they snapped open. She knew this one. She and Jiang Baizhi had solved it together before.

In Textual Research on Dream of the Red Chamber, Mr. Hu Shih, a leader of the New Culture Movement, mentioned a riddle that had puzzled people for centuries. They said no one but the person who came up with it could solve it.

Wu Wei finished his introduction, then continued, “Sister Wang graduated from the Chinese University of Hong Kong, and Banxia graduated from the Communication University. The other sisters have strong literary backgrounds, too, so I’m sure you can solve it. You’ll get two hints.”

“Brother Wei, give us the riddle first!” Shen Yuyang urged him.

“Name a character that fits this famous line by Du Fu, the Sage of Poetry from the Tang dynasty: ‘The boundless falling leaves rustle down.’”

Everyone began scribbling on the paper in front of them, but no one could find an answer.

Lang Yiqiu raised her hand. “Brother Wei, we’ll use one hint.”

“Does everyone else agree?”

They all said they did.

Qi Banxia wrote slowly, sometimes glancing from the corner of her eye toward Jiang Baizhi at the table on her right. Jiang Baizhi hadn’t written anything yet.

“The answer has something to do with the Southern Dynasties.”

“What were the Southern Dynasties?” Shen Yuyang had entered a talent competition while she was still in high school. She hadn’t managed to balance her studies and her career, and had missed a crucial period for learning. She had no idea.

Jiang Baizhi offered a hint. “The Song, Qi, Liang, and Chen dynasties. Four states.” Then she picked up her pen and began breaking down the riddle.

The other women wrote down two characters, crossed them out, and shook their heads. Lang Yiqiu saw that Qi Banxia had written only the traditional character Chen on her paper, then crossed out the left ear radical, leaving East.

Wu Wei saw that no one was making progress and started to offer another hint. “Do you need—”

“Said,” Jiang Baizhi and Qi Banxia said in unison.

“That’s the right answer! How did you two figure it out? Would you explain it for everyone?”

Wang Man was curious, too. “Yes, please. We couldn’t make any sense of it.”

Qi Banxia spoke gently. “Why don’t you explain it, Doctor Jiang?”

“Teacher Qi can explain it.”

Shi Zhen, who hadn’t said much all afternoon, cut in. “Why are you two being so polite all of a sudden? Banxia, you explain. I think you got it a second faster.”

“The rulers of Qi and Liang were both surnamed Xiao. After the Xiaos came the Chen dynasty, whose rulers were also surnamed Chen. For ‘boundless,’ you remove the left ear radical from the traditional character Chen, leaving East. For ‘falling trees,’ you remove the tree from East. That leaves ‘say.'”

The logic was clear, and the explanation well organized. The women understood at once.

Shen Yuyang nodded thoughtfully. “So that’s how it works. I guess I’m just uncultured.” The last bit was a joke. She clapped her hands and sighed. “No crawfish for us tonight.”

Qi Banxia suggested, “Maybe someone who’s good at cooking could make some for everyone.”

Wang Man, the oldest of the group, said, “You and Doctor Jiang, of course. Everyone agreed yesterday that you’re the best cooks.”

Qi Banxia was confident, but she knew her own limits when it mattered. “I—I can help Doctor Jiang.”

“Then I’ll trouble you, Teacher Qi.”

“No trouble at all. It’s only right.” Qi Banxia smiled at her, her voice gentler than she realized.

Dinner was moved to the village chief’s house, where Wang Man’s group was staying. The kitchen was much more spacious than the one at their place. There was room for two people, and even Lang Yiqiu managed to squeeze in.

“Sister Banxia, Doctor Jiang, do you need help?”

Jiang Baizhi answered before anyone else could. “Thanks, Yiqiu. Teacher Qi’s enough.”

Qi Banxia ushered her toward the door. “Go rest.” Once Lang Yiqiu had left, Qi Banxia turned back. “What should I do?”

“I was going to say you don’t have to—” Jiang Baizhi stopped herself, remembering the cameras. She lowered her voice and asked, “Teacher Qi, can you peel garlic?”

“Of course.” Qi Banxia muttered inwardly that she was being underestimated, then picked up two bulbs and headed for the trash bin in the corner. “How much should I peel?”

“Six or seven cloves. Thanks.”

They were so formal with each other that Qi Banxia fell silent, and the whole kitchen grew quiet. After a while, the awkwardness got to her. She slipped into character and suddenly asked, “Doctor Jiang, do you usually cook at home?”

Jiang Baizhi chopped scallions quickly without looking up. Her ordinary reply came out strangely warm, with an unexpected lilt. “I do. He likes my cooking.”

Qi Banxia answered without thinking. “Oh? Who?”

Jiang Baizhi’s throat tightened. Her voice went a little hoarse. “My father.”

Qi Banxia understood. Though Jiang Luhua and Jiang Baizhi were father and daughter, he had never cared much for his own child. After Wu Liu died, Jiang Luhua had even blamed Jiang Baizhi for her mother’s death. He’d left her with her grandmother and only saw her once every six months. It wasn’t until New Year’s Eve last year, when Sun Mingfen brought them together, that father and daughter finally sat down and started talking.

“Your father’s lucky. Even Sister Shi Zhen praised your cooking. I can’t wait to try it.” Qi Banxia had eaten Jiang Baizhi’s cooking countless times, but she still tried to comfort her. Sadness was spreading through her heart, too. She hid it as quickly as she could, put the garlic in a small bowl, and handed it to Jiang Baizhi. “What about the scallions?”

“Two stalks should do.”

After an hour and twenty minutes of work, four meat dishes, three vegetable dishes, and a soup were ready. The women were entertainers, and most of them usually kept dinner light. But the food must have suited their tastes, because they kept reaching for more even as they insisted they couldn’t eat another bite.

“Xiao Jiang, are you married? Whoever marries you will have hit the jackpot.” Wang Man had been hoping to set Jiang Baizhi up with someone.

Qi Banxia’s left hand, resting in her lap, suddenly trembled. She didn’t know why, but she badly wanted to hear the answer. Her fingers pressed into her palm, and the flesh beneath her nails turned pale. In her previous life, this was the night her period started. Her stomach had hurt so much that she’d gone to bed without eating.

Jiang Baizhi’s lips curved into a soft smile. She answered calmly, “I got my marriage certificate last month.”

“Oh, good.” Wang Man lifted her wineglass, grateful to have a graceful way out. “A toast to our Doctor Jiang, and to Xia, too. You worked hard.”

“Cheers!”

Qi Banxia lifted her bowl of local sorghum liquor. Jiang Baizhi raised her water in place of wine. “Happy weekend.”

After a few rounds, Qi Banxia was more than a little tipsy. She propped her right cheek on one hand, her eyes half-lidded, and watched Jiang Baizhi talking with Wang Man. Her gaze lingered on the bridge of Jiang Baizhi’s nose.

She wore her glasses tonight. Her usually cool, thin lips moved as she spoke, and Qi Banxia could think of only one word to describe her.

Sexy.

I want to kiss her so badly…