Talented Young Man (27)

As promised, Bi Qingtang kept his word. A week later, in a well-known Shandong cuisine restaurant, he hosted a dinner for Old Ma, with Uncle Chen accompanying them, fulfilling Tang Yang's long-held wish.

During the meal, Old Ma and Uncle Chen reminisced about their days as bandits in Shandong. Bi Qingtang, who had left Shandong at the age of ten, could still contribute to the conversation now and then. Tang Yang, however, could only listen, understanding some parts and missing others. Still, she loved hearing these stories; they were tales she cherished, allowing her to glimpse the bold and spirited youth her father had once been.

Later, Old Ma, as if by chance, spoke of the reasons and circumstances that led him to leave Tongli, as well as his experiences working under Bi Qingtang and his father in Shanghai. His account matched exactly what Bi Qingtang had told her—flawless and without a single discrepancy. As Bi Qingtang leisurely smoked his cigarette, Tang Yang’s doubts were at last dispelled.

Old Ma went on to say that, thanks to the young lady’s favor and Bi Qingtang’s loyalty to old friends, he had been given a good position. He was to establish an agency in Tianjin, handling goods for Bi Qingtang’s department store. Despite his age, Bi Qingtang had made him the manager there, with generous pay. Henceforth, he would seldom return to Shanghai, perhaps only two or three times a year.

Tang Yang felt reluctant to part, but seeing how satisfied her Uncle Ma was with his new post, she said nothing. After the meal, Uncle Chen went downstairs to prepare the car. Bi Qingtang stepped out of the private room and ran into an acquaintance, exchanging a few words. Seizing this moment, Old Ma pulled Tang Yang aside and asked in a low voice, “Miss, does Boss Bi treat you well?” Tang Yang, a little embarrassed, laughed and scolded him gently, “Uncle Ma, what a question! If he didn’t, who would possibly marry him?” Old Ma nodded and muttered, “Good, that’s good.” He added, “If he ever treats you badly, come to Tianjin and tell me.”

Bi Qingtang soon bid his friend a hasty farewell and returned with a smile. “What are you two whispering about?” he asked. Tang Yang, emboldened, covered her mouth as she laughed, “Uncle Ma says if you ever bully me, he’ll come and deal with you. Do you still think I have no one behind me?” Old Ma waved his hands quickly, “Miss, you’re married now—how can you still joke like that? Boss Bi might take you seriously.” Bi Qingtang glanced at Old Ma and forced a dry laugh, taking Tang Yang’s hand. “She’s always like this, childish as ever. She always says she has no family here—do you think I have a big family myself? We’re just two orphans, after all.” He sighed. “But at least neither of us minds.”

Hearing this, Old Ma squinted into the distance, musing aloud, “Back in Shandong, how lively things were! Boss Bi was the chief, my master was the third, the cousin was the fourth, and the second boss was Xu Feihu. Twenty years have passed, and now it’s all gone—all gone.” Just then, a waiter brought a paper bag to Bi Qingtang, who turned to Tang Yang and said, “While we were eating, I realized their sweet potatoes are the real Shandong kind, so I bought some to roast for you at home.” Tang Yang nodded, beaming, and Bi Qingtang playfully tapped her nose, while Old Ma laughed along.

In the car, Tang Yang leaned against Bi Qingtang’s shoulder. He was in high spirits, humming a tune, but Tang Yang sighed softly. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “I’ve just reunited with Uncle Ma, and now he’s leaving again.” Bi Qingtang hesitated, “He probably just wants to make as much as he can while he’s still able. If you can’t bear to see him go, shall I send someone else instead?” Tang Yang shook her head, “No, that would only disappoint him. In a few years, when he’s too old to work, let’s bring him to Shanghai to enjoy his retirement.” Bi Qingtang nodded, “Of course. And little sister,” he added suddenly, “when I’m old and feeble, will you still stay by my side?” Tang Yang was taken aback. “Big brother, why do you say that?” “I’ve been dreaming lately—dreams where I’m weak and you leave me behind!” Bi Qingtang chuckled mischievously. Tang Yang glared at him, mumbling, “Nonsense!” Bi Qingtang glanced back at Old Ma, who was growing smaller in the distance, and smiled, “But tonight, I won’t be dreaming that.”

More than half a month passed. It was Saturday. After a week’s work, Bi Qingtang hurriedly finished his tasks and rushed to Jingye Middle School. Checking his watch en route, he was disappointed to see that the end of classes was near. Students were trickling out of the school gate. The driver asked, “Boss, did you tell Madam you’d be picking her up?” Bi Qingtang stared out the window, “What difference would it make?” “She’s probably already left. Shall we just drive home?” Bi Qingtang opened the door, “Since I’m here, I might as well take a look. Wait here for me.”

As he reached the staircase leading to Tang Yang’s classroom, he saw her standing on a small stool, writing on the blackboard. She was so absorbed in her work that she didn’t notice him. Bi Qingtang folded his arms and watched from behind her, fascinated by her focused expression—a side of her he rarely saw, but which held a unique charm. Was it true that lovers see only beauty in each other? He wondered how others saw his Tang Yang.

“Xiangning, hand me the blackboard eraser!” Hearing Tang Yang’s request, Bi Qingtang glanced at the eraser on the floor, bent down with a smile, and handed it to her. She wiped away part of her drawing, then added a few strokes—a few boys in sportswear, leaping to toss a ball. The sketch was simple yet lively. The title read: “Spring Basketball Tournament.” Tang Yang’s calligraphy was always bold and flowing; on the blackboard, it had an added strength. The girl had a depth of spirit—no wonder Zhao Ling was always so full of praise.

“Xiangning, does this look all right? If so, I think it’s time I head home,” Tang Yang asked softly, eyes on the board. Behind her, Bi Qingtang burst out laughing. Tang Yang turned, her braids swinging. “Big brother! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Her delight at seeing him made Bi Qingtang’s heart swell with joy. As she jumped down from the stool, he steadied her, “No need to rush—what if you fall?”

Just then, a girl came running up the stairs—a close friend of Tang Yang’s, named Zhang Xiangning, whom Bi Qingtang had met before. Her father was a prominent military officer, and she had a brisk, decisive air about her. “Miss Tang, you’ve come to pick up your sister again? You’re too strict! It’s not like she’s some cloistered lady from olden times. If you keep this up, you’ll ruin her future!” Tang Yang scolded, “Worry about your own future before meddling in mine.” Bi Qingtang grinned, “Miss Zhang, I know several fine young men—perhaps I could introduce you one day.” The two bantered easily, deflecting the teasing.

Zhang Xiangning tugged at Tang Yang’s sleeve, complaining, “Come on, let’s go watch the basketball rehearsal on the field. Why head home so early?” Without waiting for an answer, she pulled Tang Yang downstairs, and Bi Qingtang followed with a helpless smile.

It was a spring evening, warm and breezy. The field was lush with new grass, full of life. A group of young men in short sleeves raced across the lawn. Zhang Xiangning stopped at the edge and cupped her hands to her mouth, calling out, “Xu Zhizhong! Xu Zhizhong!” The players instinctively paused their game. At that moment, the ball flew straight toward Tang Yang. Bi Qingtang stepped forward and struck it back with a swift motion. Before he could say anything, a voice from the court shouted impatiently, “What are you all doing?”

A young man, just past twenty, ran over. Tall and athletic, he had a student’s air but none of the frailty—steadfast, open, and strikingly handsome, the kind who draws admiration from both men and women. He stopped a few meters away, standing within the chalked lines, glanced briefly at Tang Yang before politely averting his gaze, and asked with concern, “Tang Yang, did the ball hit you?” She shook her head, “No.” He nodded, turned to Bi Qingtang, and bowed, “Thank you, sir.”

Zhang Xiangning eagerly introduced them, “Xu Zhizhong, this is Tang Yang’s big brother!” She winked as she spoke. Xu Zhizhong paused, then smiled at Bi Qingtang. The sunlight lit the sweat at his temples, giving him an almost radiant look. His smile was genuine and infectious. Bi Qingtang nodded unconsciously. Xu Zhizhong extended his right hand, “Mr. Tang, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Xu Zhizhong.” He hesitated, “My hands are a bit dirty from playing—please don’t mind.” Bi Qingtang smiled slightly and took his hand; the young man’s unpretentious composure made it impossible to refuse.

They shook hands. After a glance at Zhang Xiangning, Xu Zhizhong said, “I’ll get back to the game now. I hope we’ll have a chance to talk more in the future.” He turned to go, but Zhang Xiangning called after him, “Xu Zhizhong, are you finished?” His teammates caught up to him, laughing and pushing him back toward Tang Yang.

Standing before her, Xu Zhizhong took a barely perceptible breath to steady himself, then said, “There’s a performance of King Lear at the theater tonight. I have extra tickets. After our game, a few of us are going—why don’t you join? Zhang Xiangning will be there too.” One of his friends added, “Come on, Tang Yang, if you don’t go, we’ll all feel awkward going ourselves!” Tang Yang realized what was happening and, embarrassed, clung to Bi Qingtang’s arm, stammering, “No, I can’t…” Before she could finish, Xu Zhizhong quickly rescued her, “You must have something at home—Mr. Tang is already here to pick you up. It’s all right, there will be other chances.”

Tang Yang was at a loss for words. Xu Zhizhong nodded to her and jogged away, the students around them sighing with disappointment before returning to their game. Zhang Xiangning stamped her foot, “Tang Yang, you’re impossible!” At that moment, cheers erupted on the court as Xu Zhizhong made a clean, skillful shot—only to be met with laughter and teasing, “Xu Zhizhong, what are you thinking? You just scored in your own basket!”

Bi Qingtang turned away, expressionless, and walked toward the school gate. Tang Yang hurried after him.

Bitan Chronicle 2927—End of update.