HUINA ZHENG

The Matchmaker’s Daughter

Jing still wrestled with the decision to bring her best friend Lina home for a visit. Would revealing her world affect their relationship? Shaking off the doubt, she led Lina to a slender residential building. “My place is on the second floor,” she said, guiding Lina upstairs with their luggage. They saw a wide-open door, displaying a bright red plastic sign reading “Yang Fang Matchmaking.”

“My mom conducts her business right in the living room,” Jing explained.

Inside, the walls were adorned with photographs of potential suitors, some of which had faded with time. In front of the photo wall was a red lacquered tea table, surrounded by wooden sofas with fabric backs. Seated in the middle of the sofa was a middle-aged lady in a blue shirt, with a lady in a floral dress beside her.

“Mom, this is my friend Lina,” Jing said to the lady in the center, and then said to the woman beside her, “Hello, Aunt Chen.”

With a nod, her mother gestured for them to take a seat. Jing and Lina sat down.

Adorning the tea table was a wooden tray, bearing a ceramic teapot, dainty teacups, and a tea strainer. Fang seized a kettle and poured steaming water into the purple clay teapot, expertly serving them tea. Lina noticed that the teacups, albeit smaller than usual, boasted an attractive purple clay design.

“How old are you? Do you have a boyfriend? Where are you working? How much do you make? Do you have siblings? If so, how many? Where’s your hometown? What do your parents do? How old are they?” Aunt Chen asked Lina, scrutinizing her from head to toe, taking in everything from her clothing to her backpack and even her choice of shoes.

Lina looked at Jing, unsure of how to respond. Jing patted her hand and said, “Aunt Chen, she’s only two months older than me, and she will graduate this summer. She’s too young for your son.”

Aunt Chen’s expression darkened. “She’s twenty-four, indeed quite young for my son. Do you happen to know any older single female friends or cousins?”

“If we happen to come across someone fitting that description, we’ll definitely introduce them to you. Mom, Aunt, I’ll take Lina to the room to settle in and rest,” Jing said as she stood up, and they headed towards the room.

In her room, Jing explained, “Don’t let it bother you. My mom’s clients are primarily concerned parents whose children haven’t tied the knot yet. They get straight to the point to assess if the other person could be a suitable match. In the dating market, everything is straightforward with clear price tags. It’s a gesture of respect and helps avoid time-wasting.”

Lina asked, “I’m twenty-three, how did I become twenty-four?”

“Here, we use a traditional system called nominal age, which considers you one year old at birth. By the way, in our tradition, women over twenty-five are sometimes referred to as ‘leftover women.’ If my mom finds out you don’t have a boyfriend, she’ll certainly offer some advice. Just take it in stride.”

Lina sighed. “I’m used to it; my mom nags me all the time. I’m sure she’ll push me into arranged meetings when I get back home.”

As they emerged from the room, a portly man was about to leave. He said to Fang, “If you come across a suitable match, please do remember to contact me.” She replied, “I’ll be sure to.”

Lina noticed two charts on the wall next to the door, one displaying ages corresponding to birth years and the other showing Chinese zodiac signs. “This helps people determine if their ages and zodiac signs match,” Jing said.

After the man left, Fang shook her head. “His daughter has been working in Shanghai for many years, and she’s already the general manager of her company, but she’s thirty-eight. It’s really hard for him to help her find a partner because men prefer younger women.”

***

Jing and Lina arrived at the neighborhood square where they were drawn into a chaotic scene. A woman sprinted, casting occasional glances back, while a man pursued her, shouting insults. They circled beneath a massive banyan tree in the square, and it seemed as if the man’s fists were on the brink of landing blows on her. Eventually, he caught up with her, shoved her to the ground, and launched a brutal assault. “How dare you run!” The woman’s cries filled the air.

Lina stood frozen, eyes wide, as chaos unfolded in the square. Her hands trembled.

Jing rushed forward, positioning herself between the woman and the man, arms outstretched, staring him down. The man spat on the ground. “Yang Jing, this isn’t your concern. If you want to report it again, go ahead.” He then turned and left. The woman got back on her feet.

“Aunty Yan, are you alright?” Jing said as she supported the woman.

Aunty Yan brushed the dirt off her clothes. “I’m okay.” She then noticed Lina, who stood beside Jing, looking alarmed. “Is this your friend?”

Jing nodded. “She’s my college roommate and friend.”

Aunty Yan smiled at them. “Oh dear, don’t be alarmed. That man is my husband. Come, let’s go home and have a cup of tea and forget it.”

Lina pressed her lips together, brows furrowed. “Is it—is it okay? That man just now—he was so frightening.”

Aunty Yan waved her hand. “He’s just hot-tempered. Quick to anger, quick to cool down. No need to worry.”

Jing shook her head. She didn’t want to face him again, not while her temper was still flaring. “I’ll take her around the neighborhood for a bit, and we’ll join you for tea in the afternoon.”

“Alright, take your time.” Aunty Yan headed in the direction the man had gone.

Jing and Lina strolled together. Jing gestured to the right, signaling a turn. Lina’s pace slowed, and Jing matched her step. Jing understood Lina’s shock. Lina came from an affluent family in Guangzhou, and when she had proposed visiting Jing’s home, Jing had anticipated a potential cultural clash. She had chosen to let her closest friend glimpse this facet of her real life. “My aunt lives in the apartment above us and has endured years of domestic violence. A few years ago, her husband pressured her into a divorce, as he wanted another woman to bear him a son. She refused, and he pinned her to the ground, punching, kicking, and only stopping after she vomited blood.”

“Why didn’t she get a divorce?”

“Many people here believe that divorce is the worst possible outcome for a woman.”

“Wasn’t there anyone to stop him?” Lina came to a halt.

Jing also stopped, her gaze fixed ahead. “On this street, nearly everyone has a female relative who has been abused by their husbands. In their lexicon, there’s no such term as domestic violence.”

As they stood by the road, several motorcycles zoomed past, blaring their horns to alert pedestrians, adding to the clamor of noise. Jing continued, “Finally, she agreed to divorce him, packed her bags, and went to live with her daughter in Shenzhen. But the man’s girlfriend had a heart condition and couldn’t conceive. He called my aunt, promising that he’d treat her well. Despite her daughter’s strong objection, my aunt returned and remarried him.”

Jing refrained from meeting Lina’s gaze as she concluded, “This is the reality for many women here.”

***

After dinner, they gathered in the living room to watch TV.

Fang turned to Jing. “I’m going to attend my cousin’s grandson’s one-month celebration next week.”

“How much are you going to give in the red envelope?” Jing asked.

“Four hundred yuan.”

“I’ll transfer it to you via WeChat.”

Lina shifted her gaze from the television screen to Jing’s face. Jing, sensing Lina’s curiosity, turned to her mother and asked, “Mom, do you mind if I tell Lina?”

Fang shrugged. “Sure. Jing has been managing my finances since the fifth grade. She’s really capable.”

Jing contemplated whether she should unveil the backstory to Lina. Back in the day, her mother often ran short of money for groceries by the month’s end due to her tendency to overspend impulsively. This led to their having meager meals like porridge and dried radishes as the month neared its close.

In the fifth grade, Jing offered to take charge, stashing away a portion of her mother’s income each month and returning it to her in full at the end of the year. Fang gave Jing varying sums, ranging from ten to one hundred yuan. Jing hid the money throughout their house, between book pages, inside the bookshelf, and even under floorboards. At year-end, Jing proudly handed over the entire saved sum to her mother, astonishing Fang. That year, the unexpected savings allowed them to celebrate the Chinese spring festival with newfound joy. Fang even confessed to searching the entire house the previous year, hoping to discover hidden funds but found none. As Jing entered middle school, her mother handed over her entire monthly salary to her. Jing felt a sense of control and security, no longer having to worry about running out of money for necessities like rice.

“Jing is an exceptional family financial manager,” Fang said.

“Indeed, every time we go shopping and there’s a promotion, she’s the first to calculate how to maximize discount,” Lina said.

“But now she’s also supporting a young girl’s education,” Fang said.

Jing sighed. “Mom, we’ve already discussed this.”

“That girl is in her middle school. Do you intend to support her through college? What if she doesn’t repay you?”

“I’m helping her because I want to, not because I expect anything in return.”

“What if she doesn’t make it into college or just wants to marry a wealthy man and become a housewife after graduation? Wouldn’t your efforts go to waste?”

“Mom, I respect her choices, and I won’t meddle in her life just because I’ve supported her.”

Lina gazed at Jing. Jing said, “Last semester during my internship, while I was in class, this student’s father barged in, dragging her away. She pleaded with me to let her stay in school and avoid a life of dropping out, working, and early marriage. I want to help her continue her education. She’s a good student.”

“Every penny was hard-earned,” Fang said.

Jing grasped the source of her mother’s objection. In a region favoring sons, family resources leaned towards male offspring, fueling her mother’s resentment. With limited means and a frugal lifestyle, allocating part of their budget to support a girl, a stranger, heightened her mother’s sense of deprivation. However, it wasn’t her mother’s fault. Jing embraced Fang. “If I were in that girl’s shoes—had you passed away when I was very young and I had an abusive father—would you want someone to care for me?”

“Jing is very level-headed. She’ll manage her life well and won’t let herself fall into trouble,” said Lina.

Fang didn’t press further.

***

The day after Lina returned to Guangzhou, Jing received another letter from Liling, the girl she sponsored. Liling shared her top rank in the final exams. Jing was delighted with her outstanding performance.

A month ago, on the final day of Jing’s teaching internship, she pulled Liling aside to the corridor behind their classroom. She informed Liling that she would be leaving the next day but reassured her of continued financial support for her education and living expenses. Jing expected Liling to express gratitude, but instead, Liling asked, “Why are you helping me?” Jing was taken aback. She hadn’t contemplated the “why” before making this decision. Liling’s determination and resilience, despite societal pressures, had moved her. She shared with Liling that her father had left on the day she was born because he had desired a son, and she hoped that through education, Liling could reach a broader world.

However, she had lied. Whenever someone asked about her father, Jing would say that he was gone and fall silent, allowing them to interpret it as they wished. This way, she avoided having to feign sadness. She couldn’t reveal to anyone that she never missed that man or desired “paternal love.” Such a revelation would label her a psychopath, given the cultural emphasis on filial piety, where people believed only wicked individuals wouldn’t love their parents. When Liling spoke about her father, she referred to him as “Mr. Lin,” not hiding her disdain. Jing admired Liling’s candor.

When Jing’s mother found out she was expecting a daughter and refused to have an abortion, he left. Aunty Yan was his sister. Through Aunty Yan, Jing learned that he had started a factory and later married a young girl, with whom he had two sons. While Jing was in elementary school, he would call her a few times a year, but he never inquired about her life. After a brief exchange, he always talked about his sons. At ten, Jing had had enough and told him she wasn’t interested in his sons, hanging up. He never called again. When Jing was twelve, his factory failed, and his wife divorced him. He returned to their town with his older son, Ming, and opened a grocery store nearby.

In her letter, Liling shared how she defended her stepmother when her father was abusive. Jing set the letter down. She recognized the courage and trust required to open up about one’s most intimate emotions. Knowing that Liling looked up to her, Jing was determined not to foster dependence. She intended to maintain a certain distance, avoiding interference in Liling’s life. She decided not to write back unless necessary, believing Liling would understand her respect for her personal space and privacy.

***

Jing’s boyfriend Peng returned for his winter break, and he met her the next morning. He waited for her downstairs. Peng, with his tall, slender figure, was clad in a blue shirt, jeans, and sported a pair of stylish glasses. He reached for her hand, and together, they strolled to the library, a half-hour’s walk. The library, just opened last year, was pleasantly uncrowded. Finding their seats in the reading room, they immersed themselves in their books.

Around noon, on their way back, Peng said, “Even though teaching offers stability, with summer and winter breaks, the income isn’t substantial. Dealing with students is becoming more challenging. You should think about taking the civil service exam; it provides good benefits and a high salary.”

“I have an interview at the No.1 Middle School next month.”

“You can start as a teacher while preparing for the civil service exam. One of my college friends failed the exam in her senior year, so she joined an advertising company, where the pay was low, and the hours were long. After working there for three months, she quit and focused on studying for the exam. She studied twelve hours a day. She finally passed the exam this year. Once you start working, you’ll realize that becoming a civil servant is the way to go.”

“What if my dream is to become a teacher?”

“If you become a teacher, the administrative workload will wear away your enthusiasm. Although the school you mentioned is the best in our town, it’s still a small town. The civil service exam becomes more competitive each year, so you should secure your future as soon as possible. Your mom probably thinks the same as I do—”

Jing fixed her gaze on the tall trees lining the road, their canopies neatly layered, spreading out like giant umbrellas. These golden trees, of varying heights and layers, appeared radiant against the backdrop of the azure sky. In the sunlight, their leaves gleamed softly. The road was blanketed in golden fallen leaves, creating a carpet of yellow.

As Peng continued talking, Jing could feel the sound of his voice, but it gradually became indistinct. She felt his hand squeezing hers. “—Once I become a lawyer, my job will undoubtedly be demanding, and that’s when the advantages of being a civil servant will become more apparent. You’ll be able to balance family life and take care of our child.”

“I never said I wanted to marry you.”

“I can’t marry you right now, at least not until I’ve stable income. My parents also said the same thing.”

“Do your parents prefer a grandson or a granddaughter?”

“Definitely a grandson.”

“What if I birth a daughter?”

“We can try for another child.”

“Being a civil servant while violating the family planning policy will result in dismissal.”

“There’s always a way. Or you can consider an abortion once we know it’s a girl.”

A tightness gripped Jing’s chest, and her hand trembled slightly. Some archaic beliefs seemed impenetrable, and not even higher education could crack them.

“That’s indeed a great solution,” she said, her lips curling into a sarcastic smile.

***

Jing was engrossed in her book at her desk when Fang barged into the room, her face pale, brows knitted.

“What’s going on?” Jing set her book aside.

“Ming jumped from the factory roof.”

Jing stared at her mother, a peculiar emotion welling up within her. Yet, she dismissed it. She reminded herself that Ming, though her half-brother in name, was essentially a stranger. They didn’t even share the same family name; she took her mother’s. If she were a man, she might not feel this way. Some men were brutes. No, they were worse. Jing had studied them. She had strived to emulate her male relatives and classmates, reminding herself to avoid feminine fussiness and emotional entanglements. Despite her distaste for their ways, she adopted a rational, masculine mindset, thinking that by working hard and embracing their lifestyle, she could shield her mother and all the women she cared about.

Fang said, “Friends and family take turns visiting him these days, trying to console him, fearing he might not cope.”

“So?” Jing asked.

“You should go see your father with me.”

“I won’t. I can’t fake sorrow.”

“Yang Jing, listen to yourself! If anyone else heard you speak in this manner, they’d think you’re heartless. But you aren’t, so why are you being so harsh?” Fang’s lips quivered.

“This is the plain truth. He never considered the hardships you faced raising me alone, never treated me like a daughter. My presence won’t bring him solace. Let his younger son handle that,” Jing said, her tone matter-of-fact.

“Your father only wished for a son; it was the norm back then. Don’t hold it against him.”

“Why prefer a son? If I were one, I wouldn’t love, understand, or help you as I do now. You’d have to fuss over me, serve me.” She stressed each word, distancing herself from her emotions.

During the first few years after he had left, Fang often wept. Every time Fang succumbed to self-pity, Jing would console her, patting her back. Jing had become her sanctuary. She was the strong and nurturing mother, and Fang, the little girl.

“He’s your father, Jing. Visiting him is basic decency, you can’t be heartless. What will people think if you don’t? You must come with me tomorrow,” Fang implored, tears escaping her efforts to hold them back. Jing took a deep breath, her arms enveloping her mother’s shoulders, gently patting her back.

Jing’s eyes met her mother’s, seeing the pain tangled with duty. She knew her presence meant more to Fang than to her estranged father.

“Mom, I get why you want me there. My feelings for him haven’t changed, though,” Jing whispered. “I’ll go with you, for your sake, not his. Just don’t expect me to be there for him emotionally.”

Fang’s eyes, a blend of relief and sorrow, met Jing’s. “Children mustn’t blame their parents, Jing. He’s still your father, you should—”

“Let’s not talk about this anymore, okay?” Jing cut in, handing Fang a tissue. Quietly, Fang dabbed at her tears.

***

In Jing’s new apartment, the hot, stifling August weather felt like being trapped in a sealed box. There wasn’t a hint of wind. The cicadas chirped relentlessly.

Jing retrieved a tray of pre-cut, chilled watermelon from the fridge and placed it on the tea table. Despite the fan blowing in their direction, she and Lina still found themselves sweating. They had opted to save the air conditioning for nighttime to avoid extended exposure, which wasn’t healthy.

“In the last six months, I’ve met at least twenty potential partners, and I didn’t click with any of them. My parents were frustrated. How about having your mom introduce me to someone?” Lina said.

“Are your parents okay with you leaving Guangzhou?” Jing asked.

Lina shook her head and grabbed a slice of watermelon. “Last month, I went with my parents to meet a potential partner at a nearby restaurant. At an intersection, a car suddenly swerved and nearly collided with ours. Clearly, it was the other driver’s fault, but he had the audacity to accuse my father of reckless driving. If we weren’t worried about being late for our first meeting, my father would have reported him to the police.” Lina took another bite. “Guess what happened when we arrived at the restaurant? Our potential partner’s father turned out to be the same guy who had been so aggressive on the road.”

“Did you still have dinner with them?”

“Of course, what else could we do? Leave on the spot?” Lina chuckled. “You found a boyfriend in your junior year, someone your mom approves of. I’m really envious.” Lina gestured out the window to a nearby school. “You don’t even have to suffer the toil of commuting.”

Jing wiped her mouth and hands with a wet napkin. “We broke up last month.”

“What? I thought you two got along.”

“He still has a year left for his master’s degree. After graduating, he plans to work in a top-tier city, which will take at least three years to establish stable income. By then, I’ll be twenty-eight, and my mom will surely be anxious. To make him agree to marry me, I’ll have to make compromises. My sunk costs will keep piling up. Besides, I don’t want to move to a major city; I want to stay here for my mom.”

“Does your mom know about it?”

“I’ll tell her once my job is stable,” Jing said, then got up to take the tray to the kitchen. When she returned to the couch, Lina said, “There’s a guy my parents really like. A relative from our neighbor’s family, four years older than me, a doctor. I’ve decided to date him.”

“That’s great. No more blind dates for you.”

“This is why I came to visit. What does a kiss feel like? Last time, he tried to kiss me, but my phone rang just then, so I managed to evade it.”

Jing pursed her lips and recalled how when Peng kissed her, she would tense up, resisting the urge to push him away. Her relationship with Peng had remained at the holding-hands-and-kissing stage. It wasn’t that she was conservative or following her mother’s advice to maintain her purity before marriage; it was simply a lack of interest. She had wondered if she might be attracted to girls, but the thought of hugging and kissing girls didn’t appeal to her either. She could approach the topic of sex rationally and had a fair understanding of related health issues. She didn’t reject sex, but she couldn’t accept it happening. She couldn’t comprehend why people packaged it as an irresistibly tempting forbidden fruit, and were drawn to it.

“If I’m going to kiss him, I want my first kiss to be with my best friend. That way, I’ll be ready,” Lina whispered, inching closer to Jing, their eyes interlocking.

Jing, normally composed, felt an unexpected flutter in her chest. She nodded slightly, closing her eyes, giving in to the moment. As Lina’s lips met hers, a gentle, unfamiliar warmth spread through Jing. Lina’s tongue delicately explored, and Jing, overwhelmed by a rush of sensations, instinctively pulled back. But as Lina leaned in, Jing found herself responding, an involuntary, subtle lean forward.

They parted, and a brief silence enveloped them. Jing, trying to regain her usual composure, remarked lightly, “Not bad. Just like that.” Lina echoed, “Yeah, just like that,” but Jing’s heart was still racing, a rare occurrence for her.

In that fleeting encounter, Jing touched a depth of emotion she seldom acknowledged, a moment of raw vulnerability that was strangely reassuring.