Universal Love - Scenes of YuZhou

History Repeats Itself (R-18)

Beijing - 1925 (a lifetime ago)

"Sorry the room is such a mess. Would you like some tea?"

WeiZhou struggled to keep his voice even as he lit the lantern mounted on the wall. It would not be good if his visitor realized he was nervous.

"If you're having some, I will," JingYu replied, nonchalantly, as his eyes scanned the small room. He stepped toward the low table, covered in books and papers, pencils and quills. "The busy life of a university student."

WeiZhou quietly answered "yes" before quickly turning to the small single gas burner he used to heat water. He glanced over his shoulder at the man who seemed to fill his small rented room. It had been almost two weeks that JingYu was gone to his hometown. Those days of empty loneliness had confused WeiZhou. He had missed JingYu's teasing and jokes, his quiet focus, his insistent bantering. But with his friend's return, WeiZhou felt strangely peaceful. It only confirmed his fear as well.

WeiZhou had started tutoring the children of Mr. Zhao, the owner of an upscale men's clothing store, to supplement the meager allowance his family provided. Much of his wage, though, was paid in items from the store. Not that WeiZhou minded. His father, a staunch traditionalist, refused to buy "that horrible Western clothing" for his son, even if it was the only style anyone in Beijing was wearing anymore, especially at the university. Mr. Zhao had assigned his assistant to help the tutor "choose his payment," and thus began the strange connection between the two young men.

Having never been formally introduced by Mr. Zhao, and only quickly passing by each other in the back room of the store a few times, the first time they came face to face, WeiZhou had been taken aback by the easy, jovial manner of the man not much older than himself. WeiZhou had always been quiet, bordering on shy, but before they had finished taking his measurements, Clerk Huang had him chatting and laughing with stories of WeiZhou's students just up the stairs in the private residence.

That day, while they debated over styles of shirts (or perhaps a pair of trousers would be better for a first payment?) they talked of WeiZhou's studies. The student was pleasantly surprised when the clerk expertly showing him the design detail in the collar of a crisp, white shirt began quoting Confucius and Li Zhi in response to mention of Nietzsche and Marx. Even after the shirt had been carefully folded, wrapped, and placed in WeiZhou's bag (the trousers hidden away for the next payday) the two men left the store still debating the centuries old question of the implication of Western thought in Chinese culture.

It became habit after that for the two to leave the store together, since WeiZhou would finish his tutoring session just as JingYu was closing the shop. And on the days when WeiZhou did not teach, they still would spend their free time together. The easy friendship was something neither of them had ever experienced before, and both delighted in each other's company. Most evenings they would share a small meal at a convenient food stall, laughingly bickering opposing viewpoints while unconsciously trading choice bits of vegetables and meat into each other's bowl. Once a week they would splurge and sip coffee in a Western style cafe where many students and scholars congregated, quietly commenting to each other on the discussions and arguments that raged around them about politics and religion, philosophy and life.

As steam began to rise from the kettle on the burner, WeiZhou glanced over his shoulder again, his eyes surreptitiously following the movements of his guest. They had been heading to the cafe, in fact, when JingYu suddenly stopped and asked if WeiZhou would mind not going that evening. He had said he had something important to tell WeiZhou, but had not elaborated, even until now. The quiet in the room was uncomfortably heavy and complete for WeiZhou, and added to the agitation he already felt.

WeiZhou tried to think of something to say as he finished preparing the tea. Finally, as he handed a cup to JingYu, he broke the silence.
"You went to your hometown quite suddenly. Nothing's wrong?"