Chapter Thirty-Five: The Lu Jun Couple

Inside and outside, the atmosphere of Lu Jun’s home was much the same. Though the furnishings were somewhat old, everything was clean and orderly. The living room was small, with two wooden armrest sofas lined against the wall, their leather cushions cracked from age, exposing a few grayish threads from the seams. White cloth slipcovers, sewn by hand, protected the sofa backs. Between one sofa and the wall stood a folding dining table.

Opposite the sofas, on the other side of the room, stood a modular cabinet set—tall wardrobes flanking a central section that displayed glass ornaments above an old television, the kind that seemed steeped in history. The blue paint on the cabinet’s surface was chipped and worn, and even the metal handles on the wardrobe doors were speckled with rust.

A savory aroma of food filled the house, accompanied by the sound of a spatula at work in the kitchen.

“Have you two eaten yet? My wife’s cooking right now—just simple fare, nothing fancy. If you haven’t had dinner, why not stay and have a bite with us?” Lu Jun offered seats to An Changpu and Qin Ruonan before sitting himself. At first, no one spoke, and so the noises from the kitchen grew more distinct.

“No need, let’s keep this brief. We’ll try not to delay your dinner,” An Changpu replied, always good-natured, smiling at Lu Jun.

Lu Jun grinned back, though his expression was a touch awkward—perhaps from nerves, or maybe uncertainty.

“What is it you want to ask me about my brother?” he ventured.

“In fact, today we came to talk with you about Ding Mulan,” Qin Ruonan answered unexpectedly.

An Changpu was momentarily taken aback by her words, and Lu Jun, too, looked surprised. Yet while An Changpu seemed to quickly grasp her intent, Lu Jun remained a little uneasy.

“How should I put this?” He hunched forward in his chair, rubbing his hands together. “Ding Mulan was my brother’s wife. My brother went and had that surgery, turned himself into something neither man nor woman, and now he’s dead. As his elder, how can I speak ill of my former sister-in-law?”

“You mean you don’t think highly of Ding Mulan, that you have complaints about her but don’t wish to say?” Qin Ruonan deliberately steered his words toward a more malicious interpretation, prompting Lu Jun to wave his hands in protest.

“That’s not what I mean at all! I’m someone who stands for reason, not for family! Ding Mulan—there’s nothing bad to say about her, truly! If I had to fault her for anything, it’s that she was too soft, which let Lumin get so spoiled in the first place! But people care about appearances, just as trees need their bark. The dead are gone, and those who remain must live with their dignity.”

Lu Jun’s words were circumspect, but there was a trace of blame toward Ding Mulan.

“You mean to say that Ding Mulan played a part in Lumin’s decision to have the surgery?” An Changpu was a bit taken aback. He just couldn’t imagine a woman encouraging her husband to become a woman.

Hearing this, Lu Jun quickly slapped himself lightly on the cheek. “Listen to my stupid mouth! I can’t even explain myself properly. What I meant was, my parents were old then; they couldn’t stop him, so they washed their hands of it out of frustration. But when even the parents gave up, how could his wife do the same? She let Lumin do all those disgraceful things out there! She was just too soft! She let him do whatever he pleased! A good wife isn’t just about obedience. I think if she’d been a little more assertive and reined Lumin in, he wouldn’t have gone so far, wouldn’t have crossed so many lines, and wouldn’t have lost his life in the end!”

“I don’t like hearing that!”

Perhaps overhearing the conversation in the living room, a voice rang out from the kitchen, loud and clear, though the speaker had not yet appeared.

“You and your sharp ears!” Lu Jun shouted back toward the kitchen, then turned to An Changpu and Qin Ruonan with an embarrassed smile. “That’s my wife—she’s got a big voice!”

As he spoke, a tall, thin woman came clattering in from the kitchen, carrying a steaming bowl of soup. Entering the living room, she jerked her chin at Lu Jun. “Set the table! My fingers are about to get cooked!”

“Your skin’s so thick it’s like tree bark! Still think you’re a delicate young girl?” Lu Jun grumbled, but his hands moved quickly, pulling out the table from between the sofa and the wall, setting it up in a flash, and carefully taking the soup bowl from her to place on the table.

“Put a cloth underneath! Otherwise, you’ll leave a mark on the table, and who knows how much a new one would cost!” The woman chided as she fussed with Lu Jun and, at the same time, sized up Qin Ruonan and An Changpu with curiosity. “Are you two police officers?”

An Changpu nodded.

Lu Jun’s wife, who seemed a lively and outspoken sort, told her husband to bring out the rest of the food from the kitchen, then took his place, plopping herself down in a chair and striking up conversation with Qin Ruonan and An Changpu.

“Don’t listen to Lu Jun’s nonsense! He’s got no ambition and his thinking is hopelessly old-fashioned! Lumin was strange from the start—his own parents couldn’t stop him, even to their last days. How could Ding Mulan, as his wife, have chained him up at home like a dog? If you ask me, Mulan did more than enough. If it were me, I wouldn’t have bothered! The house, the land, the child—those would all be mine. If you want to be a woman, go ahead, but you’d leave with nothing and fend for yourself! A man like that is no better than none at all—just another mouth to feed!” She spoke entirely from Ding Mulan’s perspective, and the mention of Lumin filled her with indignant anger.

“I never said Ding Mulan wasn’t a good woman, or that she didn’t do enough for the family or for Lumin. Lumin was my brother, after all—who would want to see their brother fall so low? I was just venting!” Lu Jun brought out the rest of the dishes, and while setting a bowl on the table, nearly cut his finger on a chipped edge because he was distracted by their conversation. He put his finger to his lips and blew on it before finding himself another chair. “Sometimes I can’t help but think—if Lumin had married a stronger wife, maybe he would have settled down a bit, wouldn’t have gone so far and done all those outrageous things!”

“When Lumin sold your parents’ burial plot back then, how much did he get for it?” An Changpu asked once Lu Jun had finished venting.

Lu Jun’s expression darkened. “He wouldn’t tell me, but from what I heard from the neighbors, it was probably around a hundred thousand.”