Are you the cup of tea I have?

Author: Li Huiyi
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-06-01
Features: If a woman makes a choice at the age of twenty-six to leave her warm home, her familiar people, and the city that raised her, and comes alone to Shanghai, I think, this choice, whether right or wrong, is at least very brave. I am this brave woman. Thinking of Shanghai, I associate it with alleys, monthly calendars, rickshaws, stylish ladies, and the soft Wu dialect. However, these are now just fragmented tags of old Shanghai. Today, Shanghai is dazzling and splendid like fireworks blooming in the night sky. This blooming is only about oneself, and therefore, it is destined to be lonely, just like the city and its people. Some say Shanghai is exquisite. This exquisiteness is a cappuccino with a rich aroma, sitting by the window at Starbucks; it is neatly arranged colorful imported fruits in the supermarket's refrigerators, shining with a cold luster; it is a lonely and magnificent dress in a luxury brand store on Huaihai Road. The exquisiteness of Shanghai is like a blue rose in a crystal vase, enchanting yet fragile.
Six months after arriving in this city, the initial novelty gradually faded, and I felt lonely. This loneliness, even with a bag full of food, noisy music, and beautiful clothes and shoes, could not be filled. Because loneliness lies in the heart, in the realm that material cannot touch. At my new workplace, when chatting with colleagues, I was usually asked why I came to Shanghai and if it was for a boyfriend. I shook my head truthfully, as this common reason did not apply to me. Thus, the people asking became more curious: "Why then?" In their eyes, a girl of my age should be settling down in a stable relationship, having a job that may not be high-paying but is secure, and preparing to marry and raise a family—not like me, like a rootless weed drifting in a strange city. I didn’t know how to answer. For a career? Too pretentious! To escape an almost settled but loveless marriage? Too legendary! But the truth was just such pretense and legend. However, to avoid making it seem too bizarre, I could only smile and move on.
Alas, people are curious creatures, and boredom and a monotonous life only heightened their curiosity. They asked me kindly what I did on weekends. In their imagination, a single woman living far away might have a mysterious and ghostly weekend, filled with alcohol and roses. But my weekends were just sleeping until nature woke me, one or two homemade delicious dishes, a novel, and a cup of tea—simple and carefree. They eagerly tried to set me up with single men at the company, even helping me find candidates on a mother's forum they often visited. They said the forum gathered a group of mothers who, after discussing children's education, eating, drinking, and daily life, also posted the profiles of single men and women on the forum, them like the "Saturday Date" program on Shanghai Radio. In Fortress Besieged, it is said that a woman's two basic desires are to be a mother and to be a matchmaker. Thus, I became the forum's "Woman No. 45."
On weekends, I would call home to update my parents on my work, life, and thoughts. After listening to my report, my mother would always ask, "What are your plans for the weekend? Where are you going to play?" I understood their intentions—they worried about me being too lonely alone in the city, and at the same time, they felt it was time for me to get married, though they never said it outright. I could sense their anxiety about their grown daughter still waiting to be married. Sometimes, when pressed too hard, I would shout into the phone, "Can’t I just find someone good to marry?" After shouting, I would feel guilty and try to reason with them, saying that love is something one can only wait for.
However, after making these calls so many times, I couldn’t pretend nothing had happened. These thoughts would occasionally surface, like a beast sniffing its way back. I thought, perhaps I should find a boyfriend. When I started this idea and took action, I found that finding a boyfriend was much harder than finding a job. People often say that marrying a man is a woman's second job. But jobs can be changed at will if they’re not suitable, whereas once a husband is married, changing him is much harder. Moreover, I had a hidden romantic dream in my heart: to hold hands with someone and grow old together.
Before this, weekends were mine—peaceful and carefree, a balance between joy and loneliness. But now, this balance was broken. In coffee shops, parks, or even on the subway, every affectionate couple seemed like an exclamation mark, starkly reminding me of my single life. I felt as if I had been tempted like Eve, but I couldn’t find my Adam with a missing rib. I wandered through various coffee shops and tea houses, facing men with different faces, careers, and backgrounds, each with a different drink in front of them. We talked about almost the same topics: work, how I felt about Shanghai, the climate, and the soaring housing prices in Shanghai. We chatted vaguely, but occasionally, we would fall silent. Yet, this silence was not filled with mutual understanding or tranquility; instead, it brought me a sense of urgency, forcing me to fill the moment.
Watching the dry tea leaves gently bloom in the gentle warmth of water, it felt as if a soft sigh had landed on my heart. I thought, the men before me and I were like water and oil. This thought made me feel lonely.
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