on while chatting on the train – the conversation
had ranged from UFOs to share prices to AIDS. It
had been a congenial chat precisely because it had been
so wide-ranging. Both of them had wanted to kill time
on the train in the most natural way, and the three hours
were easily disposed of. Soon they were standing on the
platform and nodding to one another as they went their
separate ways.
Later, Meng could not be sure exactly why Papa Qi had
checked his rapid steps – more than likely it was because
of Meng’s luggage. He had three pieces with him: two
travel bags and a large cardboard box. He would carry
one of the travel bags on his shoulders, and the other bag
and the box in his hands. For Meng a little luggage like
that presented no difficulty at all. He picked up his travel
bags but was beaten to the cardboard box by someone
else, who lifted it up. Glancing up, Meng saw that it was
his neighbour from the train, an amicable smile on his
face.
‘Why don’t I take this for you?’ he said. ‘You live in the
new housing estate at the station, right? That’s only a few
steps away. I’ll help you take it all home.’
Meng thanked him and declined repeatedly, but
finally he reluctantly acquiesced. It was because of Papa
Qi’s eyes; they seemed so clear and pure somehow, as if
charged with some kind of expectation. That was how
Meng first hesitantly led Papa Qi to his home. He recalled
later that Papa Qi did not come in on this occasion.
Meng had invited him in for a sip of tea, but Papa Qi had
replied, ‘No thanks. I still have to get to the office. We’ve
been very busy recently.’
Meng said, ‘Well, look in some time when you’re free.’
Of course, he just made this offer to be polite but he
always remembered Papa Qi’s earnest reaction. He had
thought seriously about it for a moment, shaking his
tired wrists, and then he’d said, ‘On Saturday. I’ll come
on Saturday then.’
And afterwards Saturdays became Papa Qi’s visiting
day.
The Mengs were not the kind of people who enjoyed a
wide circle of friends. On the first day that Papa Qi came
to visit, neither of them really knew how to act, although
as cultured people, they treated him amiably enough.
Ningzhu had not yet met Papa Qi, and assumed he must
be a friend of Meng’s from university. She sat to one side,
lamenting the fickleness of human nature and remarking
that Meng’s photograph albums were filled with pictures
of his former classmates, faces shining with happiness,
arms slung around one another’s shoulders. How close
they seemed to have been, yet now they had scattered
to the four winds and Meng was in contact with no one:
only Papa Qi had taken the time to visit his old friend.
Meng felt it would be awkward to correct his wife’s
error, so he just chuckled instead. It was Papa Qi who
took the initiative and explained who he was: ‘I never
actually went to university. I missed the minimum score
by a single point. I think I was born unlucky. After that, I
didn’t bother to retake the exams.’
Ningzhu, reacting quickly to this information,
immediately switched the topic of conversation to the
worthlessness of university graduates. ‘What good are
they? Look at Meng – comes out of a prestigious college
and can’t even install a ceiling light.’
Papa Qi laughed knowingly as she spoke. Then he
nodded and remarked, ‘You’re right. But it’s not just him.
None of the college graduates I know can. And anyone
who can put in a ceiling light didn’t go to college. It’s a
social problem.’
‘Well, I bet you can do all kinds of electrical work,’ said
Ningzhu encouragingly. ‘Maybe we can give you a shout
next time we need something done.’
‘No problem. Just give me a call and I’ll be there.’
In fact, they never actually asked Papa Qi for help with
anything electrical, nor did they ever intend to ask for
help with anything else. But later Papa Qi did do them
an enormous favour; something it would have been
had ranged from UFOs to share prices to AIDS. It
had been a congenial chat precisely because it had been
so wide-ranging. Both of them had wanted to kill time
on the train in the most natural way, and the three hours
were easily disposed of. Soon they were standing on the
platform and nodding to one another as they went their
separate ways.
Later, Meng could not be sure exactly why Papa Qi had
checked his rapid steps – more than likely it was because
of Meng’s luggage. He had three pieces with him: two
travel bags and a large cardboard box. He would carry
one of the travel bags on his shoulders, and the other bag
and the box in his hands. For Meng a little luggage like
that presented no difficulty at all. He picked up his travel
bags but was beaten to the cardboard box by someone
else, who lifted it up. Glancing up, Meng saw that it was
his neighbour from the train, an amicable smile on his
face.
‘Why don’t I take this for you?’ he said. ‘You live in the
new housing estate at the station, right? That’s only a few
steps away. I’ll help you take it all home.’
Meng thanked him and declined repeatedly, but
finally he reluctantly acquiesced. It was because of Papa
Qi’s eyes; they seemed so clear and pure somehow, as if
charged with some kind of expectation. That was how
Meng first hesitantly led Papa Qi to his home. He recalled
later that Papa Qi did not come in on this occasion.
Meng had invited him in for a sip of tea, but Papa Qi had
replied, ‘No thanks. I still have to get to the office. We’ve
been very busy recently.’
Meng said, ‘Well, look in some time when you’re free.’
Of course, he just made this offer to be polite but he
always remembered Papa Qi’s earnest reaction. He had
thought seriously about it for a moment, shaking his
tired wrists, and then he’d said, ‘On Saturday. I’ll come
on Saturday then.’
And afterwards Saturdays became Papa Qi’s visiting
day.
The Mengs were not the kind of people who enjoyed a
wide circle of friends. On the first day that Papa Qi came
to visit, neither of them really knew how to act, although
as cultured people, they treated him amiably enough.
Ningzhu had not yet met Papa Qi, and assumed he must
be a friend of Meng’s from university. She sat to one side,
lamenting the fickleness of human nature and remarking
that Meng’s photograph albums were filled with pictures
of his former classmates, faces shining with happiness,
arms slung around one another’s shoulders. How close
they seemed to have been, yet now they had scattered
to the four winds and Meng was in contact with no one:
only Papa Qi had taken the time to visit his old friend.
Meng felt it would be awkward to correct his wife’s
error, so he just chuckled instead. It was Papa Qi who
took the initiative and explained who he was: ‘I never
actually went to university. I missed the minimum score
by a single point. I think I was born unlucky. After that, I
didn’t bother to retake the exams.’
Ningzhu, reacting quickly to this information,
immediately switched the topic of conversation to the
worthlessness of university graduates. ‘What good are
they? Look at Meng – comes out of a prestigious college
and can’t even install a ceiling light.’
Papa Qi laughed knowingly as she spoke. Then he
nodded and remarked, ‘You’re right. But it’s not just him.
None of the college graduates I know can. And anyone
who can put in a ceiling light didn’t go to college. It’s a
social problem.’
‘Well, I bet you can do all kinds of electrical work,’ said
Ningzhu encouragingly. ‘Maybe we can give you a shout
next time we need something done.’
‘No problem. Just give me a call and I’ll be there.’
In fact, they never actually asked Papa Qi for help with
anything electrical, nor did they ever intend to ask for
help with anything else. But later Papa Qi did do them
an enormous favour; something it would have been
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