By Chen Weiping

Lunar New Year is a big, happy occasion for us Chinese people. My wife called me and joyfully told me that she was coming back home. She had already bought a train ticket, even though it was an unseated ticket.

“Standing tickets?” I asked.

“Yeah. It’s Spring Festival days. Tickets are in huge demand.” My wife sounded satisfied on the other side of the phone. I knew that it was extremely hard to get tickets at the end of the year. If my wife was willing to come back a few days later, she would be able to get a seated ticket. However, she was so eager to come back home as soon as she could that she was willing to stand on the train for more than ten back breaking hours.

On the day of her return, I couldn’t stop watching the clock on the wall all afternoon, wondering: “Well, she should be in a taxi by now and arriving at train station soon. I should call her, but I don’t know how long the wait is. It would be very inconvenient for her to answer my call with suitcases in her hands. Well, better call her when she gets on the train…”

For a whole night I was tossing and turning in bed with an anxious and expecting heart. I have taken this train back and forth myself many times, so I couldn’t help wondering, where is she now? Zhenjiang? Or somewhere else?

My wife finally arrived. As soon as she set down her luggage, she began to nag me: “Our house is as dirty as a pigsty. Why didn’t you clean up a bit? Look at all this thick ash on the table...” Now that the usual peace and quiet was all gone, I listened and listened to her nagging, getting more and more bored.

The Chinese New Year is all about eating, drinking, getting together, and playing. Time flies and several days passed without us realizing it. The Lantern Festival was here and my wife started to pack up her suitcase to leave.

I suddenly felt an inexplicable emotion rising from inside. Am I missing my wife already? The word “missing” is usually for young people to say—and she’s still here by my side.

I came back from work, and immediately smelled something good from the kitchen. My wife pointed at a large bowl of meatballs and told me, “I fried meatballs all afternoon. I’ll put them in the refrigerator. If you don’t like to cook for yourself, take some out and steam them, then they’ll be ready to eat.” I nodded: “Alright.” Previously she always made several bags of dumplings and froze them for me to eat in the future. This time it’s fried meatballs.

Soon it was departure time. Considering the train leaves in the middle of the night, it’s tiring to stay up and my wife would have a lot of work to do after she got back, I said, “You go to bed and sleep a while. I’ll wake you up in time.” Without further words, she went into room and fell asleep before long.

At 10 o’clock, she woke up, got dressed and washed up. I carried the suitcase and walked her to the roadside, where we waited for a while before a taxi stopped. I put the luggage in the trunk and saw her off until the red taillights of the taxi disappeared into the distance.

Nights are still chilly at this point in the season. A gust of wind came and I huddled deeper into my coat. In the past few years my wife and I have been living in different places without many reunions. I don’t know yet how many times we’ll get to see each other this coming year. A burst of loneliness rushed up into my heart. When we were young, we seemed to care for nothing; but at this age we are more soft and sentimental. I felt tears coming up and turned around to leave. We came as a pair yet now I was going back on my own. Nobody was with me other than my own shadow.

At home, I paced back and forth in the empty house. The f loor was as clean as a mirror; the table was bright and clear. My wife had cleaned up the whole house before leaving. Sadly, in a few days they would get dusty again.

I sat there for quite a long time, and finally decided not to get stuck in my sentimental emotions. After all, I had to get up early to work in the morning. The quilt on the bed was nice and neat, with an extra blanket on top. My wife must have added it on top because she knew I would be sleeping alone now. I went to bed and found it very warm. That blanket was like my wife’s body warmth.

I felt warm and blessed, as cozy as the coming spring. I called my wife and told her the bed was still warm. She smiled and said: “This way you won’t feel cold when you sleep.”

I held the cellphone and for a long time didn’t know what to say.

(From Lady, July 2014. Translation: Lu Qiongyao)

離聚匆匆情暖心

文/陳衛(wèi)平

對(duì)中國(guó)人來(lái)說(shuō)，過(guò)年是十分開(kāi)心的事情。妻子打電話喜滋滋地告訴我，她要回家，已經(jīng)買到火車票，雖然是一張站票。

“站票啊?！蔽艺f(shuō)?！按哼\(yùn)呢，票很緊張的?！逼拮语@得很滿足。我知道，年三十之前的車票肯定緊張，如果愿意晚幾天回來(lái)的話，應(yīng)該可以訂到坐票。但是，妻子歸心似箭。在火車上站十幾個(gè)小時(shí)，這個(gè)苦，妻子心甘情愿地吃。

到了妻子回家的日子，整個(gè)下午，我都在看客廳里的掛鐘：嗯，這個(gè)時(shí)刻，應(yīng)該在出租車上，很快就到火車站。我想給妻子打個(gè)電話，但是，遲疑不決：也不知道候車的隊(duì)伍有多長(zhǎng)，妻子提著箱子，接電話會(huì)很不方便。要不，等她上了火車再打吧。

那個(gè)期待的夜晚，是多么難熬。這趟火車，我來(lái)來(lái)回回也坐了若干次，心里揣度，這會(huì)兒她是到了鎮(zhèn)江，還是在哪兒？

妻子終于到家，放下行李的第一件事就是嘮叨：“咱家怎么像個(gè)牛欄，怎么這么臟?。磕阍诩乙膊桓苫?，你看看茶幾上的灰有多厚……”平日里的清靜全沒(méi)了，聽(tīng)著聽(tīng)著，我終于厭煩了。

過(guò)年就是吃吃喝喝、玩玩聚聚，幾天時(shí)間轉(zhuǎn)眼就過(guò)去，不知不覺(jué)就到了元宵節(jié)，妻子開(kāi)始收拾起出門的行囊。

我心里突然涌起一股莫名的情愫，難道是思念嗎？這應(yīng)該是年輕人喜歡用的詞匯吧，何況這人兒還在自己身邊呢。

我下了班回來(lái)，廚房里飄著濃濃的香氣，妻子指著一大盆肉丸子，說(shuō)：“我炸了一下午，正準(zhǔn)備放入冰箱。以后，不愿做菜了，你就放在鍋里蒸了吃?！蔽尹c(diǎn)頭：“好。”以前妻子總是包幾袋餃子，放到冰箱冷凍，這次改炸丸子了。

離別時(shí)刻到了，考慮到是半夜的火車，很難熬，再說(shuō)妻子到了那邊還有忙不完的事，于是我說(shuō)：“你先上床睡會(huì)兒，到鐘點(diǎn)了，我叫醒你?！逼拮佣挍](méi)說(shuō)，進(jìn)屋躺下，沒(méi)多久就睡著了。

夜里10點(diǎn)鐘，她自己醒了，梳洗化妝。然后，我提著旅行箱，一直把她送到路邊。等了一會(huì)兒，攔了一輛的士，我把行李放在后備廂內(nèi)，目送出租車閃著紅色的尾燈絕塵而去。

春寒料峭，一陣風(fēng)吹來(lái)，我豎了豎衣領(lǐng)。這幾年聚少離多，也不知道今年能相見(jiàn)幾次。一陣落寞涌上心頭。年輕的時(shí)候風(fēng)風(fēng)火火，如今，心頭的堅(jiān)冰反而更易融化，眼眶不禁有些潮潤(rùn)。轉(zhuǎn)身踽踽獨(dú)行，來(lái)時(shí)的一雙人兒，如今形單影只。

在空曠的家中來(lái)回踱了幾圈，地面光潔如鏡，茶幾也是锃亮明凈，妻子臨行前已經(jīng)把家里拾掇得很整潔。只是，幾天之后又會(huì)蒙上淡淡的灰塵。

就那么靜坐了好久，終是不想徒增感傷，何況明天還要早早地上班。床上的被子蓋得好好的，上面還鋪了一層毯子。一定是因?yàn)槲乙粋€(gè)人睡，妻子才特意加的吧。上床之后，發(fā)現(xiàn)床上竟然一片溫暖，那是妻子的體溫。

心里終于溫馨如春天，我撥通妻子的手機(jī)，告訴她，床上還是暖烘烘的。她笑道：“這樣你上床就不冷了。”

就那么捏著電話，久久，我沒(méi)有說(shuō)出話來(lái)。