Chapter 59

Chapter 59

"Taming the Turmoil (Three)"

Yu Manyi once again smelled the oil scent, the same one she had sensed when she first moved into Song Qi’s home, the first time he returned. This time, the scent was even more intense.

The way he gripped her wrist was familiar, as was the scent of the oil, so Yu Manyi didn’t feel much fear. The door, which had been half-closed, was now fully shut, controlled with just the right amount of force, making a very faint "click" sound.

Her pupils quickly adjusted to the darkness, and the figure in the dark reflected in her eyes. Their few instances of getting close to each other had all been in the dark, so recognizing Song Qi’s identity at this moment was not difficult for Yu Manyi.

Why was the light off in his own home?

Her sudden appearance clearly caught Song Qi off guard. He dragged her inside, then fell into silence. Their breaths echoed, and Yu Manyi could feel the sweat on his palm that was gripping her wrist.

Soon, he released her hand and whispered, "Why are you here again? Didn't I say I’d come find you?"

"But you didn’t come find me..." Yu Manyi’s voice was guilty but honest.

The peony flowers fell to the floor, releasing a fragrant scent. Song Qi bent down, picked them up, and handed them back to her, saying, "I’ve been... not really in the right place lately. Maybe next month..."

"Next month?"

Song Qi no longer blocked her view, and Yu Manyi finally saw what was on the ground. He had brought with him a briefcase, one that looked like the one he had given her that day. Inside were clothes and some documents.

Was he leaving?

It was clear that no one had been living here for some time, even if it had only been a week. Yu Manyi could tell that Song Qi hadn’t been home for the past week. This made the air in the room feel stagnant, tinged with dampness. He had probably just come back temporarily to get something and didn’t want anyone to know he had been here, which was why he hadn’t turned on the lights.

He took some money out from a drawer, threw it into the briefcase along with some paper clips, then clicked the metal clasp shut. He walked over to the window, glanced outside, and finally walked back to Yu Manyi, habitually wrapping his arm around her shoulder. As he opened the door, he led her out with him.Their neighbors were already eating dinner. It was a couple, and their door was shut, but orange light flowed through the gap between the door and the floor. The light outside was much stronger than the one inside the house. Apart from Song Qi’s face, Yu Manyi could now see the clothes he was wearing.

He wasn't dressed in a suit as if for work, but rather in a dark-colored Zhongshan suit. It was neither Western nor traditional, and its dark tone ensured that even with his appearance, he wouldn't stand out much in the evening crowd.

"Where are you going?" she asked, not really expecting an answer. However, as Song Qi walked, he led her down a dim alley and, surprisingly, really did answer.

"To Wuhan."

"By train?"

"By boat."

The situation didn't seem very urgent, otherwise, in Song Qi's usual style, he would have made her leave on her own. But it didn't seem completely safe either; otherwise, he wouldn't have avoided taking a rickshaw, instead leading Yu Manyi along dark, narrow alleys, turning from one to another.

After coming to Shanghai, Yu Manyi had become self-taught in many grand stories, because the city itself existed in a grand context. She would naturally become a part of those grand stories in the future. But in her eighteenth year, she realized one thing: grand stories were made up of specific people. Grand stories moved the fate of a group, but her personal fate was made up of the specific paths walked by one person, late at night, leading her down many roads.

The grand story wouldn’t record this late night, but in Yu Manyi's personal history, this would be a night worth remembering. As they were about to reach the dock, Song Qi glanced at his watch and suddenly turned to ask her, "Are you hungry?"

Song Qi was truly lacking in creativity when it came to food. Just beyond this alley was the dock, and since the boat wasn't leaving yet, he sat in the empty alley and shared a bowl of yellow fish wontons with Yu Manyi, talking for a while.

She told him about how large and beautiful the Commercial Press was, and also about her roommate, who resembled You Xiaoqing but was only similar in appearance. This was something he should have known when he took her there that day.

She spoke about her own matters, not asking about Song Qi's. Song Qi also ordered a bowl of wontons, but he didn’t seem hungry. He just quietly listened to what Yu Manyi had to say. After a while, he felt that being silent wasn't quite right, so he took out a pen from his pocket and wrote down an address on a piece of paper.

"I won’t be around in the next few days," he said, pushing the paper towards Yu Manyi. "If you run into any trouble, like if your family comes to Shanghai again, go to this address and find a Mr. Xu. He promised me he would take care of you.""You don’t need to worry about me anymore," Yu Manyi shook her head but still stuffed the note into her pocket. "I’ve already joined the company, I'll have a salary, and there are many people in the dorm. Just take care of yourself."

"Not needed anymore?" Song Qi teased. "Am I useless to you from now on?"

"I never wanted to use you before," Yu Manyi replied, "Can you not say that?"

Song Qi shook his head and finally lowered his head to sip some soup. He put the spoon back and said, "It's fine if you need me."

Yu Manyi didn’t like these “need” or “not need” comments. It felt like the only thing left between her and Song Qi was this. She had sewn a pocket on the chest area of the clothes she made for herself, and the folded paper note was stuffed inside. Every time she moved, it would make a sound.

"Why are you going to Wuhan? Can't I ask?" She finally mustered the courage to ask.

The fact that Song Qi had given her the address seemed like a signal—a sign that he was willing to reveal something to her. The address had something to do with an electric machinery company, which explained the occasional smell of machine oil on him.

"I’m going to get some parts," Song Qi said, and that was the end of the conversation.

The alley wasn’t far from the dock, and Yu Manyi could even hear the sound of the ship’s horn when it set off. She didn’t know the exact time that Song Qi’s ship would depart, so every time she heard a horn, she would look up at him. But he just sat with her, until the last bit of heat from the wonton soup had faded.

"I’ll go take the boat, you stay here," Song Qi finally stood up and picked up his luggage. "The dock is too chaotic, don’t go there."

Song Qi probably suited the Zhongshan suit better. His personality was too bold, and in a Western suit, his sharp edges were exposed. The traditional Chinese attire, however, could hide his sharpness, and when he bent to speak, he appeared more restrained. He was still used to speaking with Yu Manyi at eye level, and since she was sitting, he would even squat down to her level, making him seem lower than her.

Yu Manyi rarely felt the sensation of looking down at Song Qi, and it felt awkward.

"It’s a pity I didn’t send you off to report," Song Qi said. "You accompanied me to graduate."

"It’s fine," Yu Manyi said. Her gaze fell, and she couldn’t help but reach out and adjust the collar of Song Qi's shirt, pulling out a corner that had been tucked in, smoothing it over his neck. His broad shoulders made it easy for her to smooth down the fabric along his shoulders, eventually evening it out at his elbow."Didn't you eat anything? Won't you get hungry on the boat?"

"I’d better eat less. I get seasick easily. Last time, when I took you on the canal, I got seasick," Song Qi replied.

So Song Qi also had weaknesses, and he wasn’t shy about admitting them. Yu Manyi almost wanted to laugh. He always knew how to add humor to tense situations. She pushed him lightly on the shoulder, nudging him a bit further away from herself.

Song Qi also laughed and stood up.

The ship's horn sounded again. This time, it should have been the one Song Qi was taking. He glanced toward the end of the alley and said to Yu Manyi, "I’m leaving now."

"Mm."

"Goodbye."

This was the first time Song Qi had said goodbye to her in very standard Shanghai dialect. Yu Manyi remained quiet for a moment, then mimicked his tone and replied:

"Goodbye."

At the end of the alley, the light was bright, reflecting from the dock's lamps. After bidding her farewell, Song Qi walked toward the light, and Yu Manyi watched his figure slowly being swallowed by the light until her eyes started to feel a bit sore. Only then did she shift her gaze back to the soup bowl in front of her.

She didn’t know why she wanted to cry, but a few tears did fall into the soup. She also didn’t know what she should be thinking, so she thought to herself that Song Qi, as a person, was truly a waste.

She dragged his untouched bowl of wontons in front of her and ate one after another, swallowing them all. Yu Manyi had never eaten so much before. It felt as though if she filled her stomach, her heart wouldn’t feel so empty and afraid anymore.

Song Qi hadn’t specified when he would return, but before he came back, Yu Manyi still had her own life to live. And the best way she could think of to live it was to make sure she ate every meal and didn’t go hungry—

Then, while eating one of those meals, Song Qi would return.One month later.

"…Goodbye means 'see you.' 'Nong hao' means 'hello.' Thirteen points means this person has a problem with their brain, it's not really dirty, 'lacking west,' this is rather dirty…"

"Then I think what you’re saying isn't much different from what I said, so why do you call me a 'Shanghai dialect'?"

In the Su-style noodle shop outside the Commercial Press building, Yuan Wan was trying to defend Shanghai's reputation. She sighed and continued explaining to Yu Manyi, who looked displeased:

"Well, us well-mannered Shanghainese wouldn't say 'Shanghai dialect' to your face. Those who say 'Shanghai dialect' right in front of you, their whole body probably only has their Shanghai accent to be proud of. Besides, what's so standard about Shanghai dialect? After the port opened, so many people came, and their accents just blended together…"

"So, you well-mannered Shanghainese say it behind our backs."

"Ah!"

Yuan Wan failed in her communication, lost her patience, and shouted. Yu Manyi pouted and continued eating her noodle soup, reading her study materials for the afternoon class while eating.

"Don’t just dismiss the whole city, people are complex," Yuan Wan also lowered her head to eat, and in the end, made a final defense, "Other places surely… have good and bad people, just like Shanghai."

This wasn’t untrue. Yu Manyi thought of Shaoxing, reminiscing for a moment about the little postman and the landlady who had helped her, and nodded, recognizing Yuan Wan’s defense regarding the classmates from the morning who had pointed out her accent.

Once people start working, time passes by really fast. With Song Qi not in Shanghai and Fang Qian busy with work, the time passed even quicker. The initial excitement was replaced by the numbness of repeated practice, and recently, the results of her first evaluation were out, and this numbness was replaced by stress.

Yu Manyi worked hard, and so did the other students. After everyone’s efforts, Yu Manyi’s ranking climbed from 27th to 26th, an improvement of exactly one spot.

This meant that if she continued to improve at this rate in the coming months, there was a good chance she would be assigned to become a salesperson!Of course, she wasn't the only one feeling the pressure. On the day the evaluation results came out, she encountered her genius roommate, You Hong, lying in bed with a defeated look on her face for the first time as she returned to the dorm.

Yu Manyi, curious, asked Yuan Wan to find out about the scores. She learned that You Hong continued to top the art subjects, but her scores in math and English were in the single digits, which led to her final rank being even lower than Yu Manyi's.

Yu Manyi felt that You Hong didn’t need to be so upset. After all, the world is usually lenient with geniuses. With her exceptional art scores, Yu Manyi didn’t believe that, when it came time for the final distribution, she would be assigned to sell goods. Maybe some department leader would take special notice of her and transfer her there.

However, up until now, it seemed that their batch of trainees, due to the large number of people, were still seen by the leaders as a bunch of new recruits, sitting crowded in the classroom, waiting for everyone to improve on their own.

As one of those "ducklings," Yu Manyi also experienced systematic art teaching for the first time, unlike the simple studio methods from Su Wen or the one-dimensional correspondence courses from Lu Yueting.

Previously, her understanding of art had been limited to pencil drawings and watercolors. However, at the Commercial Press, oil painting and traditional Chinese painting were also required courses. And because of the repeatedly emphasized "income-generating department, not an art department," subjects like interior decoration advertising and product packaging design were also included in the curriculum.

Some of the teachers were even foreign staff, speaking in a mix of Chinese and English, making it difficult for Yu Manyi to follow. She stole a glance at You Hong and noticed that this genius roommate also seemed dissatisfied with the foreign language instruction.

If there was anything Yu Manyi still looked forward to amidst all the pressure and numbness, it was Jiang Yu’s lectures.

Jiang Yu had once told her that she also taught at the Commercial Press, though that wasn't quite accurate. Her school affairs were numerous, and she only came to the trainees’ class once a week.

She didn’t teach specialized techniques like the other teachers but focused more on guidance regarding consciousness and ideas. And this consciousness and these ideas were mostly unrelated to art, instead focusing more on the "business" aspect, which made other professional teachers scoff when they mentioned her.

Yu Manyi didn’t care too much about what Jiang Yu taught. After all, she knew nothing, and everything was starting from zero. Listening to her talk about "business" didn’t hurt. What mattered more to her was seeing Jiang Yu, just like she had always wanted to see Fang Qian and Huo Shiwen before.

Everything in her life had been obtained through imitation. Every step forward she made had to rely on a role model. Currently, that role model was Jiang Yu.

Jiang Yu became famous by designing calendar pictures and her correspondence school was well known for commercial art. She often used real-world commercial cases as examples for Yu Manyi and the others. For example, the one she brought today was a calendar advertisement that had led to the failure of a product promotion.Yu Manyi had indeed heard of the product; it was a very famous lipstick brand in Shanghai. She heard that recently they didn’t want to compete with other Shanghai brands anymore and wanted to sell their products to the counties and towns around Shanghai. They put a lot of effort into commissioning a calendar art and promoted it by giving it away with newspapers. However, Jiang Yu said, “The sales were dismal.”

This was surprising. Because, from a professional’s perspective, there was nothing wrong with the calendar. The artwork was exquisite, with delicate brushstrokes. Even if it was used for promotion in Shanghai, it would pass. So why wasn't it selling?

“I know the artist of this calendar,” a male student who had earlier mocked Yu Manyi’s accent immediately stood up and said. “He studied under a renowned master, and I don't think there's anything wrong with the painting. I believe the issue lies with the local market. As far as I know, the counties and towns around Shanghai are quite poor. Perhaps the women there simply can't afford to buy lipstick.”

“Maybe they don’t need lipstick. The painting shows a scene of women going to a ball with lipstick on, but they don’t have balls,” another student added.

Jiang Yu smiled and watched the students discuss, without offering any judgment.

Yu Manyi listened as they got more carried away and suddenly couldn't hold herself back. She stood up and said, “How is there nothing wrong with this calendar? I think the problem is huge! In fact, the reason the lipstick isn’t selling is entirely due to this calendar!”

Jiang Yu raised an eyebrow, standing on stage, and looked at Yu Manyi, who had been angered by the students' words.

“As Teacher Jiang said earlier, the business already has its own sales goals. Their buyers are no longer the women of Shanghai, but the surrounding counties and towns. The calendar's advertisement even mentions that the price of this box of lipstick is much lower than the ones sold in Shanghai. Even if the purchasing power in these counties and towns isn’t as strong as in Shanghai, surely they can still afford a quarter of the price, right?”

“You all say the calendar is beautifully painted. Yes, it's indeed superb, and I also feel inferior to the artist's skills. But what exactly is he painting? Ballrooms, neon lights, and lipsticks and curling irons to go with the lipstick. These are all very fashionable things in Shanghai, but…”

Yu Manyi thought of herself three years ago.

“But for some people in the towns, these things are like aliens. They’ve never seen them, so how can they understand the lipstick hidden among so many unfamiliar things?”

“You all say this calendar is good. Of course, it is good, but what does it have to do with those girls in the towns? Since you want to sell to the towns, why look down on them and not take a good look at what life in the towns is actually like? There’s more to the world than just Shanghai!”

“And you,” she turned to another person, her words strong and firm, “What do you mean they don’t need lipstick just because they don’t have balls? The girls in the towns may not attend balls, but they still have their own social life. They go out, shop, visit markets, and watch plays. If there’s affordable and good-quality lipstick, why wouldn’t they spend money on it? The reason the lipstick isn’t selling isn’t because they won’t buy it, but because this advertisement wasn’t even meant for them!”

Yu Manyi’s speech left the few boys who had started speaking speechless, and even You Hong, who had been sitting quietly at the back, looked up at her for the first time."Teacher Jiang," Yu Manyi turned her head again. Even Jiang Yu, who had been smiling and observing, was startled by her sudden call. "You just said they were giving away with the publication. What publication was it?"

Jiang Yu immediately understood Yu Manyi's meaning and named a few major newspapers. Yu Manyi sighed deeply, then turned to the students, continuing:

"Now, literacy isn't widespread. In the towns, there are few girls who can read. Giving away with a publication is no longer wise. And then they go and give away with these newspapers that men like to read. Of course, in big cities, it's fine to give away with these newspapers. I’ve noticed many educated women in cities read serious newspapers..."

"But since you've already decided to sell your products in the towns and hope people will pay attention to your things, then you should lower your stance a bit, do things people can understand and access, and then promote your fancy products."

Jiang Yu, quite interested, said: "Manyi, what do you think should be given away?"

"Give away pork at the market, it's better than giving away with a publication. The women are the ones buying pork for the house," Yu Manyi boldly spoke, causing the students below to look at her in surprise. "If you have to give away with a publication, then I think... give away with some..."

"Romantic novels, like the ones in the butterfly genre!" she said with a grin.

...

After such a speech on teaching city people how to behave, for the rest of the lesson, no one dared to speak out loudly. Yu Manyi sat silently at her desk until class ended. As she was about to sneak out, Jiang Yu, holding the lesson plan, called her over.

She had been so passionate when speaking earlier, but now that it was over, she felt she had been a bit too overexcited. As they say, "The bird that sticks out gets shot," Yu Manyi felt like she had probably been possessed by the younger Song Qi, which was why she had caused such a scene.

Jiang Yu called her, and Yu Manyi hesitantly walked over. She was wearing the dress Song Qi had bought for her. Jiang Yu looked her over and smiled:

"You’re really different from the last time I saw you. The clothes you’re wearing look like this, but the things you’re saying are completely different."

"We... we are the proletariat," Yu Manyi began to speak nonsense, "Even when we enter the city, we won't forget our roots."

"Where did you learn these words?" Jiang Yu laughed, "This doesn't sound like something from the romantic novels with butterflies."The butterfly-romantic novels were certainly not mentioned, but they did subtly guide her to read the newspapers, implanting ideas in her through the back half of the paper. Song Qi knew better than these sellers of rouge how to capture a young girl’s attention.

Yu Manyi shifted her body, placing her hands behind her back, and heard Jiang Yu continue: "I’ve looked at your recent grades, and they’re not exactly very safe. Are you falling behind in your studies?"

"I'm working hard," Yu Manyi said.

"Hard work alone isn't enough. Your classmates are all working hard," Jiang Yu shook her head. "I think you've gone down a dead-end, after all, you’ve learned so many wrong things before. The printing house is closed this weekend. Come to the correspondence school’s principal’s office to see me. I’ll help you with your artwork."

"Really?" Yu Manyi was overjoyed, her eyes lighting up.

"Is there a fake?" Jiang Yu smiled at her again. "By the way, I don’t want the assignments the school gave you. Paint some new works. I want to see what you create on your own."

"Paint what?"

"Anything. People, scenery, or the streets of Shanghai. Just something you choose... Do you have the time?"

Jiang Yu’s question made Yu Manyi immediately realize.

"I do!" she eagerly responded, "I have time! I’ll paint something new in the next few days!"

If it weren’t for Jiang Yu's request, Yu Manyi wouldn’t have realized that she didn’t really have anything in particular she wanted to paint. Su Wen and Lu Yueting had taught her techniques that had become increasingly sophisticated, but in doing so, they had drained away the passion she had as a child, when she used to paint anything and everything in the courtyard of the Yu family estate.

At first, Yu Manyi thought the business printing house was worth painting, but when she actually set up her easel in front of it, she began to feel a bit irritated—

It turned out that after one started working, no matter how grand the company, when you saw it, there was only resistance. After work, you just wanted to escape, with no inclination to appreciate its fine beauty. It was truly a sad realization.Jiang Yu asked her to paint people. At the moment, aside from Song Qi, Yu Manyi didn’t feel that anyone’s appearance was particularly worth painting. However, Song Qi wasn’t in Shanghai. After several ideas were discarded, she suddenly remembered the building where Song Qi lived. It was indeed very delicate and beautiful, a row of European-style apartments built with marble and cement, which seemed more suitable for being painted than Song Qi himself.

So, Yu Manyi immediately set up her easel, called a rickshaw, and headed toward the apartment building where Song Qi lived.

She had left a little earlier than usual to paint, and the sky hadn’t yet darkened. Uncle Qi was sitting in front of the apartment building, dozing off. He was quite surprised when he saw Yu Manyi from a distance, but she didn’t walk over. She only waved at him from afar, then found an angle on the street corner and set up her easel.

The sky was tinged with a layer of red, perfect for quick sketching.

The passion for creation was far more important than the creation itself. Yu Manyi adjusted the angle of the easel and quickly sketched out the shape on the paper. She looked up at the apartment building for a while, then lowered her head to add a few strokes to her sketch.

When she lifted her head again, a figure suddenly blocked her view.

The figure was tall and broad, like a wall, completely obstructing her line of sight. Yu Manyi froze for a moment, then raised her eyes higher, only to see a face that looked as expressionless as a dead fish.

He spoke as if the fish was moving its mouth, his lips parting and closing without any other muscles in his face being involved.

“How long have you been standing here?” His voice seemed to come from his abdomen rather than his mouth. “Did you see a man in a suit come out or go in?”