New Year and the Marriage Pressure

That afternoon, with nothing urgent to do, Nyle rode his little scooter around the city. Since he had come all the way to New York, he figured he should bring back some Christmas gifts for his family and relatives. Just like in the later generations—if someone traveled to Shanghai in the 1980s or 90s, wouldn't they always bring something back home?

Nyle browsed through the department store. In Manhattan, the wealthy were organizing a grand Christmas parade. The rehearsing crowds and fully decorated floats were already in place, likely just waiting for Christmas Eve to put on a spectacular show.

The department store itself was also festively adorned—after all, Christmas was coming. Just like the Chinese New Year back home, people here celebrated joyfully. A Christmas tree decorated with a golden star and colorful ribbons stood tall in the center of the lobby.

Although many people in New York were still struggling to make ends meet, it didn't stop the crowd inside from indulging in the shopping spirit. Nyle had a clear goal, so he didn't wander around like the others. He simply bought everything he planned to and called it a day.

Aunt Kinji had wanted a sewing machine for a long time—he could finally get her one. His little sister Debbie didn't need ready-made dresses; instead, he bought some fine fabric so she could make a new winter outfit herself. His older brother Patrick needed a new pair of leather boots—working daily wears out the soles fast. For his sister-in-law Campbell, he also brought fabric since she could sew as well.

After buying the big items, he still had to get some small ones—candies, pastries, chocolates, and lots of them, enough to last past the New Year. Then came the household necessities like tablecloths and plates. If packing and carrying weren't such a hassle, Nyle would've even bought a new mattress—hard beds in winter were just too cold.

The department store had a postal service counter. Nyle gave them an address, and they promised the package would be on the same train as him the next day and get off at the same station.

There's plenty to complain about in America, but if you happen to be someone with money, America really has its perks—money can get anything done.

As the train rumbled along, Nyle stared at the scenery flashing by the windows. Everything looked so familiar. Just a few months ago, he had taken the same route to New York.

The first-class carriage was nearly empty, with just Nyle and a train attendant stationed at the door. A plainly dressed woman had accidentally stepped in with her two children earlier, only to be loudly scolded and driven out. You could imagine what kind of things the attendant shouted. Nyle lifted his head and signaled for the two kids to come over. He happened to have some candy from a New York sweets shop in his pocket, along with a few half-dollar silver coins.

"Merry Christmas," Nyle said, handing the candy to the kids, each bundle hiding a silver coin inside.

"Sir…" The attendant, sharp-eyed, noticed the shine of the coins among the sweets and grew tense.

"Everyone deserves a joyful Christmas," Nyle waved him off and patted the kids' heads.

Their mother gave Nyle a grateful look, as though wanting to say something, but in the end, she glanced at the attendant and left quietly with her children.

"You truly are a kind-hearted gentleman," the attendant commented, noting Nyle's custom-tailored suit, wool coat, pocket watch, and well-groomed hair—he was clearly someone who lived well.

"Merry Christmas to you too," Nyle replied simply, handing the attendant a few candies, with another silver coin discreetly tucked inside.

That gesture stopped the man from bowing any lower. Nyle returned to his seat and looked out at the snowy window. The distant rolling hills signaled they had reached West Virginia.

At the quiet and desolate Brook Waynesburg station, Nyle was the only one getting off. The attendant quickly unloaded all his parcels and even brought them to his feet.

"Nyle! Nyle!" shouted Patrick from the platform, his hat soaked with snow, waving as if afraid Nyle wouldn't spot him.

"Hey!" Nyle jogged a few steps to meet him.

Nyle had sent a telegram yesterday around noon saying he'd be arriving that afternoon. Patrick had come early in the morning and hadn't even eaten lunch.

"You're dressed too lightly. It's freezing out here," Patrick said. Not one to express emotions easily, he busied himself helping the station staff with Nyle's luggage.

Fortunately, they had a Ford light truck at home—otherwise, there'd be no way to carry all this stuff back. Nyle had run out of candy, but he still had a few silver coins in his pocket, which he handed out to the helpful staff before squeezing into the truck.

Patrick was still doing coal deliveries. The early cold winter had made business decent. Not only had he earned back the cost of the family's coal supply, but he'd also made enough to buy himself a pair of leather gloves and saved up a bit.

The snow-covered roads were treacherous. Even with Patrick's experienced driving, he had to go slow. They chatted idly during the ride—it was only a five-kilometer trip, but it took more than fifty minutes.

Hearing the sound of the little truck approaching, the family knew Patrick and Nyle were home and came out to greet them. Seeing Nyle step down, Aunt Kinji was overjoyed and immediately grabbed his hand. Having the whole family together for Christmas—that was enough.

Nyle pointed to the truckload of packages and told her he brought Christmas gifts. When they opened the parcels, Aunt Kinji scolded him for spending too much money while lovingly running her hands over the sewing machine. She'd seen one at the tailor's shop in town and envied it for a long time. Now, she had one of her own.

Patrick wore a size nine and a half. The leather boots fit perfectly. Debbie and Campbell received plenty of fabric—more than enough to pick from and make clothes.

The candies, pastries, and chocolates were all laid out—the atmosphere instantly cheerful. Aunt Kinji even received a bottle of apple cider from Wilkie. Hearing that Wilkie still thought of her, she fondly rubbed the bottle and said what a kind man Mr. Wilkie was.

For that kind of sentiment, you had to at least make a bowl of dumplings. Or rather, for that twelve-year-aged apple cider, a brownie cake had to be baked.

Aunt Kinji kept talking about Wilkie, wondering aloud if she should bake a cake and ask Nyle to bring it back to him. Then she muttered again that Mr. Wilkie, a big-time lawyer in New York, surely had all kinds of food and wouldn't miss her humble offering. Her thoughts ran on and on.

Then halfway through, she suddenly remembered something and turned to Nyle:"You've been in New York for quite a while… did you meet any nice young ladies?"

A soul-piercing question—Nyle was completely caught off guard.