Fallen Petals

By Gao Yaping

Translated by Liu Yaya & Robin Gilbank

Proofread by Hu Zongfeng

1

The phone call came early in the morning. At that moment, Meili was packing her son’s school bag, getting ready to take him to school. Her husband was still lounging under the covers, lazily grumbling, “Who’s calling so early? Can’t they give it a rest?” Meili glanced at her phone. The number was unfamiliar. “Who knows?” she snapped back irritably. “Probably a wrong number.” Without another thought, she grabbed her seven-year-old son and clattered down the stairs. Mornings were a rush for Meili. Time was tight. She had to leave the city center, hail a cab to take her son to his school three kilometers away, and then rush back to town for work. Meili worked at the Women’s Federation in the city. Although it was technically a community organization - quiet, unremarkable, and modestly paid - it involved more than its fair share of meddling in other people’s business: domestic violence, protecting women’s rights, and so on. Whether the problems were ultimately solved was anyone’s guess, but every day brought in plenty of desperate women - abused, wronged, or simply at their wit’s end. They’d come in tears and sniffling, or worse, droning on endlessly like Xianglin Sao, the oppressed feudal widow in Lu Xun’s short story Blessings. Once they showed up, someone had to listen, someone had to intervene. But often, intervention led nowhere. For this reason, Meili felt perpetually busy, exhausted, and irritable. More than once, she had seriously considered quitting this damn job altogether.

“Good morning!” As she hurried up the stairs, someone greeted her. Without thinking, Meili automatically replied, “Morning!” When she turned around, the person had already rounded the stairwell and disappeared. A faint, bitter smile crept onto Meili’s lips. And so, right on time, she reached the office. She had just settled into her chair when her phone chirped again, like a bird. Meili quickly fished it out. It was the same number from that morning. Her brow became furrowed in suspicion. Who was this, calling again and again? She decided to ignore it. It was no wonder, really - over the past few years, Meili had been plagued by all kinds of random, nuisance phone calls - real estate sales, hotline promotions, even scammers offering counterfeit documents or fortune-telling services. They’d all called her at one point or another. It was enough to drive anyone mad. Every time it happened, she couldn’t help but wonder: How did these people get her number? Did someone at the telecom company feed them insider information? Each time she thought about this, she would brace herself, being unwilling to give it further consideration. The thought of it all was just too chilling. Consequently, she decided that from now on, she wouldn’t answer any calls from unfamiliar phone numbers. Even though it invited some complaints, this decision did have one obvious benefit: it filtered out all those nonsensical calls, leaving her with some long-awaited peace and quiet. But this time, Meili miscalculated. The noisy phone clung to her like a stubborn hex. If she didn’t answer, it would just keep on ringing, until her colleagues started to stare at her with strange expressions. Frustrated, Meili shut her phone off completely. The rose-red device lay there in silence, like a cicada in the fall, having been silenced by the cold, biting wind. The winter sunlight, shy as a timid child, crept onto the desk and over the phone, making it shimmer even more brightly.

Relieved, Meili finally let out a breath and brewed herself a cup of tea, then prepared to take a sip. All of a sudden, a woman walked in. Meili recognized her - her surname was Hua and she was an employee from a local chemical factory. She was in her thirties, reasonably attractive and with a touch of charm. Ms Hua had visited their department many times before. She was here to accuse the manager of her factory of assault. Meili had been the one to receive her the first time she came, taking her report seriously and even filing detailed records. The Women’s Federation had followed up by sending people to the chemical factory to investigate and had contacted the local police station to gather information. In the end, it turned out to be baseless. The real story was that Ms Hua’s husband had run off with someone else, which had left her somewhat unhinged. To compound these troubles, restructuring at her company had led to her being laid off owing to her poor performance. Frustrated and overwhelmed, Ms Hua had projected all of her grievances onto the factory boss.

Pretending that she needed to use the restroom, Meili proceeded to get up and slip away. But the department head caught her in the act. “Meili, where do you think you’re sneaking off to now?” The head, a woman in her fifties, asked with a smile.

“Just a quick bathroom break. That’s not a crime, is it?” Meili replied playfully, pulling a face like a mischievous child.

“Be quick about it.” The head motioned subtly toward Ms Hua with a meaningful glance. “You’ve got someone waiting to see you.”

Like a streak of wind, Meili dashed into the restroom. She stayed in there for more than half an hour, sitting idly, refusing to come out until the head called her name from the hallway. Only then did Meili reluctantly drag herself out, as though she were being forced to abandon her own private sanctuary.

Meili walked into the office and immediately noticed that Ms Hua was growing agitated, muttering curses under her breath. The department head was standing nearby, trying to soothe her with a patient and pleasant demeanor.

Meili, however, pulled a long face and snapped harshly at Ms Hua, “If you have something to say, then say it. Don’t make a scene here - we’re trying to work.”

Startled, Hua quieted down and obediently sat in front of Meili’s desk, launching into yet another impassioned recounting of her tragic tale. Meili didn’t even pretend to listen. Instead, she nonchalantly pulled some clippers from her drawer and started to trim her nails, completely unbothered.

Ms Hua droned on for over an hour, pouring out her grievances, before Meili finally raised her head lazily. Her gaze, sharp and piercing as it was, swept over Ms Hua. “Are you done?” Meili asked bluntly. Ms Hua hesitated, clearly wanting to continue, but Meili cut her off. “We’ve already heard everything you’ve reported. We’re looking into it. Go home and wait for news.”

Ms Hua froze for a moment before standing up silently and leaving. The moment she stepped out, the office erupted in barely-contained laughter. The department head chuckled, shaking her head. “Meili, you really have a way with people. Honestly, that woman’s been driving all of us crazy, but it seems like she’s afraid of you. From now on, whenever she shows up, you’re in charge of dealing with her.”

“Please, don’t do this to me. I’m not cut out for this,” Meili joked, waving off the suggestion with a laugh.

Just then, the office phone suddenly rang, its sharp Ring-ring-ring! cutting through the conversation. A colleague picked it up. “Hello? Who are you looking for? Meili? Oh, she’s here - hold on a second.”

The colleague passed the receiver to Meili. “It’s for you,” they said. Meili took the call and listened for a long moment before she understood who was on the other end. It was a college classmate she hadn’t spoken to in ten years. After a brief conversation, Meili quickly informed the department head that she needed to take some personal time now and rushed off to the hotel where her classmate was staying.

What she didn’t know was that this trip would, in the days and years to come, haunt her like a fly she couldn’t swallow or spit out - a source of endless irritation.

2

The moment the door opened, Meili froze for a second. Was this really her old classmate? In her memory, Fang Ming had been skinny, almost monkey-like. But the man standing in front of her now, though still looking younger than his thirty-six or thirty-seven years, had clearly put on weight - his belly even protruded slightly.

As Meili stood there, unsure whether to step forward or retreat, the man spoke. “It’s Meili, isn’t it? Ten years have gone by, and you’re still as young and beautiful as ever. I, on the other hand, have aged so much that I’m almost unrecognizable. It’s me, Fang Ming. Come in! Don’t just stand there like that,” he said, motioning for her to enter.

Meili felt as though an invisible hand had pulled her into the room. As the door slammed shut behind her with a loud bang, her heart skipped a beat.

“You were so hard to track down,” Felix said, pouring her a glass of water. “I had to beg a classmate for your phone number. I called you first thing this morning, but you didn’t pick up. Then your phone was off. I had no choice but to ask around for your office number. That’s how I finally found you.”

“Is there something you need?” Meili asked coolly, her tone reserved.

Fang Ming fidgeted, staying silent for a long time.

“Business trip?”

He shook his head.

“Vacation?”

Another shake of the head.

Meili couldn’t figure him out and felt a twinge of suspicion.

“What if I told you I came all this way just to see you? Would you believe me?” Fang Ming fixed his gaze on her as he spoke.

Meili felt her face flush. Trying to avoid his intense stare, she murmured, “Don’t be ridiculous. Always joking around.”

“I’m serious, Lili!” Fang Ming insisted, his voice trembling slightly.

Meili turned her head to the side, suddenly feeling awkward. In an effort to conceal her embarrassment, she quickly changed the subject, asking about another classmate. Fortunately, this distracted Fang Ming, and they soon found themselves reminiscing about their college days.

Memories of the past drifted back like billows of smoke, and Meili suddenly recalled her first encounter with Fang Ming a decade ago. It had been a late afternoon in early September. Dinner was over, and feeling bored, she wandered alone into the campus garden. The garden wasn’t crowded, but those who were there were all in pairs, whispering to each other in the shade of lush green trees. This made the large garden seem rather empty and quiet.

Meili walked aimlessly along the paved paths, surrounded by clusters of flowers and trees - roses, peonies, canna lilies, chrysanthemums, and others she couldn’t name. Even though there were many types of flowers, only the roses were in full bloom. Some were already starting to wilt, yet they remained vibrant and dazzling. The chrysanthemums, on the other hand, had only just begun to bud. The setting sun, like a miserly old man, grudgingly cast its last rays into the garden, making the roses blush even more deeply, as if steeped in blood.

Meili’s heart grew a little dim, a little lonely. It was at this moment that she saw Fang Ming enter the garden, swaying slightly as he walked, a book cradled in his arms. Fang Ming was Meili’s classmate. Although they had only been at this university in the ancient city of Xi’an for a few days and hadn’t interacted very much, Meili already knew who he was - for one simple reason: Felix was their class monitor.

Back in high school, Fang Ming had been the class monitor at a county-level school in a province in western China. When he entered university, the class counselor noticed this detail in his records and promptly appointed him as the new class monitor. During a class meeting, the counselor had explained, “Let’s have Fang Ming take on this role for now. After the first semester is completed, everyone can vote. If he’s suitable, he’ll continue; if not, we’ll choose someone else.” That’s how Meili remembered Fang Ming.

As the two drew closer on the path, Meili spoke first. “Fang Ming, even when you’re out taking a walk, you’re still so studious?”

Startled, Fang Ming looked up and saw that it was Meili. He smiled at her and observed, “You’re out for a walk too, Meili!”

Meili responded with a radiant smile, revealing two charming dimples. Fang Ming was momentarily stunned, lost in her smile. He couldn’t help but mutter inwardly, How could such a beautiful bird come from a mountain valley?

Meili hailed from a small county in the Hanzhong region of Shaanxi. The land there was barren and unable to support abundant crops, yet it boasted breathtaking scenery - verdant mountains, clear waters, and women of exceptional beauty. History even spoke of Bao Si, a famous beauty from the region whose smile had caused King You of Zhou to lose his kingdom. Such tales spoke volumes about the allure of women from this area. The mild, humid climate of Hanzhong, nourished by the long-flowing Han River and shrouded by the misty Ba Mountains, produced women with fair, delicate features. Meili had grown up there, spending 18 years in this nurturing environment. It was no surprise she looked as if she had stepped out of a painting. Little wonder Fang Ming’s thoughts had wandered.

Of course, Meili had no idea what was running through Fang Ming’s mind at the time. These musings were something he later confessed to her during a casual conversation, once they had become familiar with one other. At that moment, Meili simply looked at him curiously and asked, “What are you reading?”

Fang Ming handed her the book. She glanced at the cover and saw it was Selected Poems of Gu Cheng. The poem he had been reading was Far and Near. She was familiar with it, and she could even recite it by heart. The poem was brief, just a few simple lines:

You

Look at me one moment

and at clouds the next.

I feel

You are far away while looking at me,

but near while looking at the cloud

Meili returned the book to Fang Ming and gave him a peculiar little smile. It was as if she had seen straight through him, leaving Fang Ming slightly embarrassed. Trying to recover, he shyly invited Meili to take a walk. She nodded. The two strolled side by side along the garden path, though they kept a modest distance between them. By then, the night had begun to descend, spreading across the garden like a spider silently weaving its web. The once-vivid flowers and foliage grew increasingly hazy, shrouded as they were in the deepening twilight.

The afternoon following her encounter with Fang Ming in the garden, the school organized the new students to clean up the athletics field by pulling weeds. This was an annual tradition, a mandatory task for freshmen every September. Officially, it was described as “labor education,” but the real purpose was simply to clear the overgrown field. Freshmen were easier to manage and eager to prove themselves, so they tackled the work with enthusiasm. The field was overrun with wild vegetation - wormwood, foxtail grass, and goosegrass had grown rampant over the summer, reaching waist-height in some places. It was so overgrown that one could almost imagine wild rabbits darting through the brush. According to old rumors, the field had once been a burial ground. After the area was developed into a school in post-liberation times, the graves were leveled to make way for the field. Students said that during prolonged rainy spells, parts of the field would sink. There was even a story about a girl who had fallen into an old burial pit during one such collapse. It had taken the teachers and students hours to pull her out, and she was scared out of her wits.

The running track had fewer weeds, but the surrounding areas and the center of the field were thick with growth, as the soil there was loose, and few people walked through it. The weeds grew wild and dense. The school divided the field into sections, assigning areas to different departments and classes. Fang Ming and Meili’s class was tasked with clearing a patch near the restroom. Without much direction from the counselor or Felix, the students threw themselves into the work. Shovels dug, hands pulled, wheelbarrows rolled, and the weeds quickly disappeared. After about an hour, Meili was chatting and laughing with her classmates as she tugged at the weeds. Suddenly, she felt a sharp sting on her right hand. She cried out in pain, her voice cutting through the chatter around her. At the same time, she caught sight of a snake slithering quickly into the tall grass ahead and disappearing.

On hearing her scream, her classmates rushed over. Fang Ming was among them, his face full of concern. “What happened, Meili?” he asked urgently.

“I … I got bitten by a snake,” Meili stammered, her eyes brimming with tears, her face contorted in pain. Fang Ming’s expression changed. He noticed that the middle finger on her right hand was red and swollen, with fang marks just perceptible where blood was slowly seeping out. Without hesitation, he and a few classmates helped Meili to the university clinic.

The doctor confirmed their fears: Meili had indeed been bitten by a snake. Fortunately, it turned out to be a king rat snake that was nonvenomous and so posed no serious danger. The doctor cleaned the wound, applied medication, and bandaged her hand before reassuring the still-shaken Meili, “It’s nothing serious. Rest in your dormitory for a while, and you’ll be fine.”

Fang Ming arranged for two girls to help Meili back to her dormitory. As she left, Meili glanced back at him in silence. She thought she saw his body tremble ever so slightly.

This was how Meili remembered Fang Ming. Initially, Meili thought their relationship might have developed further. However, during the second semester of their freshman year, she noticed a girl from another school visiting Fang Ming frequently. Curious, she discreetly asked around and discovered that the girl was from Fang Ming’s hometown, a former high school classmate who had also enrolled in a university in Xi’an. Upon learning this, Meili chose to distance herself from Fang Ming.

The next three years of college life flew by. During that time, Meili occasionally ran into Fang Ming in the garden or other places around campus. Sometimes, he would initiate a conversation, and while Meili responded politely, she always kept it brief and left quickly.

Then came graduation. At the time, university graduates were still assigned jobs by the state, following a general rule: students should preferably return to the regions where they came from. As expected, Fang Ming returned to Gansu Province, while Meili was fortunate enough to remain in Xi’an.

What followed was a decade of complete silence between them. In that time, both had married and had children.

“Fang Ming, tell me about yourself,” Meili said after taking a sip of water.

“There’s not much to tell,” Fang Ming replied, sounding like someone much older than his years. “After graduation, I was assigned to work at the county government. Spent five years behind a desk, but it got so dull I couldn’t stand it anymore. So, I quit and ventured into business. I started a pharmaceutical company and ran it for a few years. Business went okay. But for all these years, I’ve never been able to forget you.”

“Stop joking,” Meili said with a hint of embarrassment.

“I’m serious!” Fang Ming insisted. “I can still remember the clothes you wore the first time we met in the school garden. A light beige silk blouse, a bean-green washed-fabric skirt, your hair flowing down to your shoulders. You looked so graceful and elegant - like a fairy who had fluttered down to earth.”

Meili felt a mixture of confusion and emotion stir within her.

“But why were you so cold to me later on?” Fang Ming continued. “Don’t you know? I used to walk in the garden all the time, pretending to bump into you by chance. I didn’t even like the garden that much. I just wanted to catch a glimpse of you.”

Meili had no words in response.

“Lili,” Fang Ming said softly, his voice filled with emotion. “I really liked you. Can we start all over again?”

“It’s impossible. We both have our own lives now,” she replied firmly. “It’s getting late. Let me take you out for something to eat.” She stood up and opened the door. Fang Ming, realizing he had no choice, reluctantly followed her, closing the door behind him. They took the elevator down together. Once they had reached the ground floor, Meili called her husband, asking him to look after their child. She only mentioned that she was busy and wouldn’t be home for lunch.

Meili took Fang Ming to Tong Sheng Xiang for some lamb and beef flatbread soup. Perhaps because they had touched on sensitive topics earlier that morning, both of them felt awkward and were quiet during the meal. After eating, Meili escorted him back to the entrance of his hotel. She declined his invitation to go upstairs on the pretense of work commitments, and left. Back at the office, her mind was still unsettled.

That afternoon, Fang Ming called her several times, asking her to come over. Meili politely declined, saying she was tied up with work. Later that night, at around 9 pm, Meili received a message from Fang Ming. He said he was already on the train to Lanzhou. Although she hadn’t come to see him again, he felt his trip had been worthwhile. He ended the message by saying he would always keep her in his heart.

On reading his words, Meili felt a pang of guilt. She couldn’t help but think that she might have been too harsh.

That night, Meili couldn’t sleep.

3

In the days that followed, Meili began receiving regular text messages from Fang Ming. At first, they were simple greetings and well wishes. But gradually, they turned into fiery, heartfelt confessions. Out of courtesy, Meili replied to every one of them. Over time, she grew accustomed to Fang Ming’s long-distance care and concern. On the days when Fang Ming forgot to send a message - whether due to him being busy or simply forgetting - Meili found herself feeling empty and restless. On more than one occasion, being unable to resist, she would pick up her phone and send him a message, asking if everything was okay. Even though Meili would never admit it out loud, deep down, she knew the truth: she was beginning to fall for Fang Ming.

Longing is painful, especially when separated by thousands of miles. Meili had grown noticeably thinner. Her already-large eyes now appeared even bigger because of her weight loss. One night, her husband asked with concern, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell? Maybe you should see a doctor.”

Meili brushed it off, saying, “It’s nothing. Work’s been busy lately, and I’m just a little tired.”

“Then get some rest early,” her husband said gently.

With that, he turned off the light and went to sleep. And yet Meili couldn’t fall asleep no matter how hard she tried. In the darkness, she stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. It wasn’t until the middle of the night, when exhaustion finally overtook her, that she drifted into a fitful sleep. Her dreams were chaotic and messy, and every single one of them involved Fang Ming.

Before she knew it, New Year’s Day had arrived. Meili received a card from Fang Ming in the mail. It was a handmade, folded card, with a pressed maple leaf and a red ribbon tucked inside. The card contained only one sentence: I love you. It had been sent as registered mail. The moment Meili saw the card, a wave of sweetness swept through her, filling her entire being. She hid the card in her desk drawer at work and would take it out to look at it in secret whenever she had a moment. Each time she looked, her longing for Fang Ming deepened. The yearning became unbearable. At one point, Meili even considered asking for leave to go to Lanzhou to see him. But in the end, her sense of propriety as a woman made her abandon the idea.

Spring Festival arrived. The joy and bustle of the holiday temporarily dulled Meili’s longing for Fang Ming. She and her husband took a trip to her mother-in-law's house. Her mother-in-law lived in the city, and although they visited occasionally, it was still customary to do the rounds during the holiday season. Afterward, Meili and her husband took their child and went back to Hanzhong to spend a few days with her parents. By the time they returned to Xi’an, the holiday was nearly over. One afternoon, as Meili was out shopping with her child, she received a text from Fang Ming. He said that after New Year, he was planning to go to Hainan and asked if she wanted to join him. Without hesitation, Meili replied: Yes, I would. And just like that, their plans were set.

A fortnight after Spring Festival, Meili received another text from Fang Ming: We’re leaving the day after tomorrow. Meili then requested leave from her office and lied to her husband, telling him that she had to travel out of town for a work assignment that would last about a week. Suspecting nothing, her husband simply reminded her to take care of herself while she was away.

When the day finally came, Meili met Fang Ming at the train station. Together, they traveled to Xi’an Xianyang International Airport and boarded a flight to Hainan. That evening, Meili gave herself to Fang Ming.

Those days in Hainan were blissful. During the day, they toured the island - visiting Sanya, Tianya Haijiao, swimming in the seaside pools, sunbathing on the beach, and taking pictures among the coconut trees. At night, they indulged in carefree enjoyment. Meili was overjoyed, feeling as sweet as could be. Unfortunately, time passed quickly, and before long, a week had flown by. It was time for Meili to return to work. Reluctantly, they left Hainan and flew back to Xi’an. After seeing Meili off, Fang Ming didn’t linger; he caught a flight back to Lanzhou the same day.

The trip to Hainan seemed to transport Meili back to her long-lost youth.

4

Following her return from Hainan, Meili was on cloud nine for several days. Everything she did seemed full of energy, and her whole demeanor was as lively as a fish darting through water - bubbling with joy. Her upbeat mood was so obvious that even her colleagues in the office noticed. One day during the lunch break, a coworker leaned in playfully, whispering in her ear, “Did you hit the jackpot in love recently?” Meili quickly pushed him away, laughing, “Oh, come on. That’s ridiculous. You’re the one who’s had all the luck!”

Even though they joked, Meili couldn’t help but feel her face flush with warmth. What puzzled her was that, ever since the trip to Hainan, Fang Ming hadn’t contacted her at all. She thought to herself that maybe he had been too busy and had simply forgotten.

Time flew by, and before long, it was March - the season of peach blossoms and willows. Meili’s life carried on as usual: working, picking up the child, and cooking dinner. It seemed like things had returned to their customary routine. But what troubled her was that there was still no word from Fang Ming. One day, she couldn’t wait any longer. During a quiet moment at the office, when nobody was around, she called him.

“Hello, who’s speaking?” came Fang Ming’s deep voice at the other end of the line.

“It’s me, Lili.” Meili spoke quickly, eager to hear from him. “What have you been up to lately? You didn’t even called me.”

“I’ve been having some business trouble, just stressed out.” Fang Ming replied, somewhat dismissively.

“You should still have called me, you know. Don’t you know I’ve been missing you?” Meili’s tone softened, almost pouting.

There was silence at the other end of the line.

“Hey, say something! You’re killing me here!”

“Meili, I really do love you, but the distance between us is too great. I can’t take care of you the way I should. I think we should ... you need to take care of yourself in the future.”

This hit her like a bucket of ice water in the middle of summer. Meili was stunned, completely speechless, unable to find any words in that moment.

One late spring day, Meili's husband accompanied her to Xingqing Park for a stroll. They walked slowly along the garden path, and before long, they came upon a tall magnolia tree. It was the season when the flowers were falling, with large, white, waxy petals scattered all over the ground. Under the sunlight, the petals shimmered, translucent and delicate, resembling a blanket of injured white doves. The sight was hauntingly beautiful. Meili murmured to herself, “The petals are falling again.”

“The petals may fall, but spring is still here,” her husband said from behind, gently draping his arm over her shoulder. In that moment, Meili was overwhelmed with emotion, and tears welled up in her eyes.

Originally Published: Yan’an Literature, May 2007 Issue

About the Author:

Gao Yaping, a native of Chang’an, Shaanxi, is a member of the China Writers Association and serves as vice president of both the Xi’an Writers Association and the Xi’an Literary Critics Association. He began writing in 1984, with works appearing in various domestic publications. His books include the novel Southern Mountain, the essay collections Tales of Chang’an, Between Grass and Trees, and The Village Hidden in the Seasons, along with more than ten other works. Gao has received numerous awards, including the Chinese Newspaper Essay Award, the Wang Zengqi Essay Award, the Bing Xin Essay Award, and the Annual Beautiful Writing Award from Chinese Newspaper Supplements.

About the Translators:

Liu Yaya, lecturer, holds a Master’s degree in English for International Education from the University of Southampton, UK. Specializing in English education and translation, She has published two papers in “Air English”, presided over the completion of the International Chinese Language Project of the Shaanxi Provincial Social Sciences Association, “Research on the Translation and Introduction of Shaanxi Writers in the International Dissemination of Chinese Culture”, and participated in “Research on the English Translation and International Dissemination Innovation Path of the Works of MAO Dun Prize-Winning Writer Chen Yan”.

Hu Zongfeng, Robin Gilbank (Refer to the previous introduction)