Volume One: Emerging from the Wilderness 8. Meeting Xiang Xiulan’s Parents

In the blink of an eye, Xiang Xiulan was about to graduate from university. However, her grades were average, her performance at school unremarkable, and she had yet to secure a job. I was anxious on her behalf, but she seemed indifferent. Since graduation was near, and we had been keeping our relationship a secret from her parents, it was becoming impossible to hide any longer. Her mother was reportedly already trying to find a boyfriend for her. Left with no choice, Xiulan had to tell her parents about us. As a result, her parents expressed a desire to meet me.

That Saturday was the day we had agreed to meet Xiulan’s parents. I dressed in my best casual suit and set off, carrying wine and other gifts I had prepared in advance. Xiulan had briefed me about her parents beforehand. Her father, Xiang Dazhi, used to work at a textile factory but was laid off two years ago; he now worked as a chef in a small restaurant. Her mother, Wu Shufang, was a team leader at a department store.

According to Xiulan, her father had barely spoken at home these past two years, while her mother was very assertive. She repeatedly urged me to make every effort to win her mother over, saying that once her mother was pleased, everything would be easier. Her words made me somewhat nervous.

Following the address Xiulan gave me, I found their home in the workers’ residential area near the former textile factory where her father had worked. Perhaps due to the weekend or other reasons, the factory seemed rather deserted, and the residential area appeared somewhat old and worn, likely built many years ago. My first impression was starkly different from the vibrant Eastern Chemical Plant. If that place was full of life, the textile factory felt stagnant—lifeless and dull.

Xiang Xiulan had told me her father’s former workplace was a state-owned enterprise once thriving with good profits, and the housing there was allocated during those prosperous times. However, in recent years, the factory had suffered continuous losses, forcing layoffs. Her father was among those laid off, and his status at home plummeted. Meanwhile, her mother’s department store was prospering, and last year she was promoted to head of the women’s clothing department, earning more than twice what her father made. This made her father even less able to assert himself at home.

When I arrived at Xiulan’s home, I knocked, and she answered the door, giving me a sly wink and whispering, “Remember what I told you.” Then she turned and called loudly inside, “Dad, Mom, Dongshan is here.”

I glanced around the modest room. It seemed to be a two-bedroom apartment but smaller than usual—likely converted from a one-bedroom unit. Inside, I first saw a middle-aged woman sitting on an old wooden sofa, watching television. When she noticed me, she turned it off, scrutinized me carefully, then looked at the gifts I carried before offering a somewhat professional smile and saying, “Xiao Wang, have a seat.”

I greeted her politely, “Hello, Auntie,” and sat down on the chair she indicated.

At that moment, Xiulan’s father emerged from the kitchen, still wearing his apron. He said to me, “Xiao Wang, please sit down; I have some things to take care of.”

I quickly stood, replying, “Uncle, it’s no trouble, please go ahead.”

Xiang Xiulan ran into the kitchen to help, leaving me feeling awkward. With her mother still seated there, I didn’t want to intrude by going into the kitchen.

Her mother was the first to speak. “Xiao Wang, I’ve heard your company, Eastern Chemical Plant, is doing well?”

“Not bad. Our factory director Gao is very capable,” I said without thinking. I had never praised Director Gao like that before, but the words slipped out naturally.

“Then your income must be good?”

Here it came—the question I was warned about. Xiulan had forewarned me about this, so I answered cautiously, “Auntie, I just started working, so my income isn’t high yet. It should improve in the future.”

“Not high? How much exactly? And when will it get better?” Xiulan’s mother pressed on relentlessly.

“Right now, it’s just a bit over two hundred yuan,” I replied quietly. “But the factory values me; I’m among the first batch of university graduates employed there, the only one from a key university. I believe there are good opportunities ahead.”

“Just over two hundred? That’s less than our useless one,” she said, referring to Xiulan’s father. I felt sweat break out on my back. “But I’ve heard Eastern Chemical Plant is good. If you work hard, you should have a future.”

Hearing this, I breathed a little easier.

“I heard your family is from a rural area. Who else lives with you?”

Another question came swiftly.

“Auntie, it’s just my mother and a younger brother.”

“And your father?”

“He passed away when I was in my final year of high school.”

“Oh.”

Xiang Xiulan’s mother paused before continuing, “If you marry in the future, what about housing?”

“The factory will allocate one.”

“How long will that take?”

“If all goes well, five or six years.”

“Five or six years? That’s too long. Our Lanlan can’t wait that long. Let me be clear: if you want to marry our Lanlan, you must have a house within two years, at most two years. If you don’t, don’t blame her for moving on. With her looks and character, there are plenty of suitors.”

“Mom, please don’t say that. Dongge just started working; how could he have a house in two years?” Xiulan appeared suddenly, wrapping her arms around her mother’s neck and coaxing her softly.

Her mother pushed her away and said, “Do you think I want this? I’m only doing this for your own good, so you won’t suffer later. Haven’t I suffered enough in my life?” Then she turned to me and said, “Xiao Wang, you have to understand.”

“I understand, I understand. I get how you feel. I will work hard,” I assured her, though inside I felt as if a mountain were pressing down on me. Just as Xiulan had said, how could I have a house in two years?

At that moment, Xiang Xiulan’s father came out with the dishes, and I hurried to help. The meal was plentiful and delicious, but my heavy heart left me with no appetite. Still, I forced myself to smile.

Xiang Xiulan’s father picked up the bottle of Jiangning Chun white wine I had brought and prepared to drink a few cups with me. Just as he set it on the table, her mother shouted, “What are you drinking for? You only know how to drink!”

He looked at her and said, “It’s Xiao Wang’s first time here. Can’t you show me some face?”

“Face? What face? Face isn’t something people give you; you earn it yourself. If you could make a thousand or two thousand yuan a month, even if you didn’t want face, people would give it to you. I’d serve you fine cigarettes and wine every day. But at your current state, you want face?”

I felt embarrassed, thinking perhaps I shouldn’t have brought the wine. I also found Xiulan’s mother excessively domineering, a stark contrast to Xiulan’s gentle and considerate nature.

“Dad, you shouldn’t drink. Your liver isn’t good. Mom’s only concerned about you,” Xiang Xiulan’s father said, finally putting down his glass and softening his expression.

When I left Xiulan’s home, she walked me out. As we went, she said, “Dongge, don’t worry. With my mom’s personality, leaving some room for you today is already pretty good—better than I expected. And about those two years, don’t put too much pressure on yourself. We’ll figure out a way to convince her. After all, I’m not going anywhere without you.”

I was touched and squeezed her hand tightly. She returned the squeeze just as firmly. A sudden urge came over me to pull her into my arms, but seeing people nearby, I restrained myself. What a wonderful girl she was. I didn’t know how many lifetimes of good fortune I had accumulated to meet such an understanding and thoughtful person. I silently vowed to cherish Xiang Xiulan all my life, for her love was too precious to take for granted.