Chapter Twenty-One: The Temperament of Beijingers

As the bride’s family visiting for the first time, our Liu family had truly done our utmost as hosts. We arranged everything for their comfort, from meals to daily needs, and made sure nothing was overlooked. Yet, to be honest, we weren’t very pleased with them. The family lacked basic manners; at mealtime, while our household was still busy preparing, they had already started eating without waiting. For a meeting gift, they brought only promotional items—like two boxes of loose grain liquor that came free with a few hundred yuan’s worth of boxed spirits, or milk nearing its expiration date from the supermarket. When they spoke, it was always, “In Beijing, we do this,” or “In Beijing, it’s like that”—wherever this sense of superiority came from, I had no idea. As for lodging, they complained about the rural conditions, saying the bedding smelled musky…

My grandparents are nearly eighty; it’s perfectly normal for the elderly to have a certain scent. Couldn’t they show some understanding? That, I could have overlooked, but what came next completely overturned my worldview. Because of this, I knew this marriage was doomed.

Cui Liu’s mother asked, “Uncle, I heard your family still has a house with a yard?”

San Liu replied, “Yes, there’s a yard.”

Cui Liu’s mother continued, “Then why don’t you sell it? You don’t need it anymore.”

San Liu said, “That house can’t be sold. It was built by Jian Liu’s father before he got married. He’s still alone now, so I have to make sure he has a place to stay when he’s old, rather than ending up in a nursing home unattended.”

Cui Liu’s mother countered, “In the end, won’t it all go to the children? Just give it to Jian Liu now. We’ll chip in some money to fix it up, so it’s convenient to stay there when we visit.”

On the surface, her words seemed reasonable. San Liu replied, “Each generation has its own fate to manage. I’m at my age now, my son and two daughters are all settled, but his father is still single. I just want to leave him a home, so he has somewhere to go in old age, instead of ending up in a nursing home.”

San Liu then asked, “Since you’re all from Beijing, why not buy a house there?”

Cui Liu’s mother sighed, “In Beijing it’s over thirty or forty thousand per square meter! How could we afford that? It’s not like we got multiple apartments from a relocation—who has several homes?”

San Liu said, “Well, four or five yuan isn’t expensive. Our yard would cost at least twenty thousand!”

Cui Liu’s mother clarified, “I’m talking about thirty or forty thousand per square meter, not per house. To buy a place in Beijing, you’d need several million at least.”

San Liu was stunned, “That expensive? My goodness, I can’t even imagine!”

Cui Liu’s mother said, “If we want to buy, both families could pool together, put in two hundred thousand each for a down payment, and at least get them a place. After all, a household registration is needed for school.”

San Liu replied, “That’s not impossible, but with their modest salaries, how could they handle a mortgage of several million? They’d have nothing left to live on.”

Cui Liu’s mother said, “In Beijing, there’s hardly any expense. Education, healthcare, even if you’re unemployed, there’s assistance. Public transport is basically free. Daily essentials are the only costs.”

San Liu said, “You may not be spending now, but what if Jian Liu falls ill? Don’t you need money for medical bills or to raise children? If there’s an accident or a problem, money will be needed.”

Cui Liu’s mother replied, “Once they have Beijing residency, things will be much easier!”

San Liu asked, “When will they get Beijing residency?”

Cui Liu’s mother answered, “After they get married, in about thirteen years, they can get household registration in Beijing!”

San Liu was left speechless. Thirteen years—who knows if their marriage will even last that long, or if they’ll even be alive? Who can foresee what might happen in thirteen years? At this rate, the marriage seemed impossible.

Cui Liu’s mother said, “We plan for the kids to have a home before having children. Without a home, they can’t enroll in school. And so the child will be eligible to buy a second home in the future, the house should first be under my name, then later transferred to us…”

When my grandfather San Liu heard this, he simply said, “It’s late, let’s all get some sleep,” meaning, “Keep dreaming!”

Hearing all this, I found it novel, but I had come to see their true character. At that moment, I became of the mind to keep my options open—after all, if I grow old without children of my own, the elders can’t possibly see me as their own son. When Cui Liu’s child grows up, I’ll inevitably be thrown out. I imagine that by the time I’m fifty or sixty, I’ll be begging on the streets! Perhaps, when fate isn’t meant to be, this is simply destiny.