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WHEN Bing returned home during military va- cation， Qi paid him a visit， carrying her baby. When she stepped inside his house， the place， which was packed and boisterous， immediately slipped into silence. The guests quickly left， giving various excuses.
Bing and Qi were now alone， except for the baby in Qi’s arms.
After a long struggle for words， Qi spoke. “I am sorry.”Getting no response from Bing， she continued： “My mom pressured me into marrying Gou. He is rich， and offered 20，000 yuan as a betrothal gift. When I refused， Ma attempted suicide twice.”
Bing remained silent. “I love you， and always have. And I know you love me too. I would divorce Gou， if you still want to be with me，” Qi said.
Bing was still silent. Qi left， and returned minutes later with a wind chime. “This is from you， and it’s been hanging on my door for the past two years.”
“Are you giving it back to me？” Bing finally opened his mouth.
Qi shook her head. “As I said， I would get a divorce and marry you， if you like. But I won’t press you for an answer. You can think about it. If you want me back， hang it on your door. I will come to you if I see it.”
Qi left， and Bing sat still for a long while before reaching for the chime. He swung it， and the tinkling echoed in the room. Qi， living next door， upon hearing the jingling sound， rushed out to look for the chime on Bing’s door， but didn’t find it. Her tears welled up.
Bing took the chime with him when he went back to the army. He put it on the door of his quarters at the garrison， in the desolate， windy northwest. The chime tinkled all day long. Bing gazed at it whenever he was unoccupied， saying to himself， “Qi， I put it on my door. Can you see it？”
The other soldiers were at first curious about the chime， but soon found it annoying. Bing was asked to take it down， and so he did. But from time to time， he would find a quiet corner， sit down， and jingle it from chest height. Hearing the clinking， he would say to himself， “Qi， I put it on my heart， can you see it？”
Qi， of course， didn’t see it， be it at Bing’s garrison door or on his chest. She kept looking next-door， but the chime wasn’t there.
Bing retired from the army two years later. When he went home， Qi didn’t show up. “Where is Qi？” Bing asked. An acquaintance said Qi seldom ventured out of her house after Gou left her for a younger woman.
The next day， Bing hung the wind chime on his door. But Qi didn’t appear.
Bing stared at it， whispering to himself， “Qi， I put the chime on my door. Do you see it？”
The chime tinkled in the breeze. Bing thought to himself， “Qi， the chime jingles. Do you hear it？”
Qi saw it， and heard it. But she stayed put in her seat， with the baby on her lap.
The next day， Bing took down the chime and rocked it from chest height. Accompanied by the sharp clinking， he went to Qi’s house.
At the sight of Bing， Qi lowered her head. “I’m an abandoned woman. What are you here for？”
“I’ve come to tell you， I put the chime on the door and on my heart as well，” Bing said. He swang the chime.
Qi’s child， now four years old， extended a hand towards it. “I want it， Ma.”
Bing and Qi were now alone， except for the baby in Qi’s arms.
After a long struggle for words， Qi spoke. “I am sorry.”Getting no response from Bing， she continued： “My mom pressured me into marrying Gou. He is rich， and offered 20，000 yuan as a betrothal gift. When I refused， Ma attempted suicide twice.”
Bing remained silent. “I love you， and always have. And I know you love me too. I would divorce Gou， if you still want to be with me，” Qi said.
Bing was still silent. Qi left， and returned minutes later with a wind chime. “This is from you， and it’s been hanging on my door for the past two years.”
“Are you giving it back to me？” Bing finally opened his mouth.
Qi shook her head. “As I said， I would get a divorce and marry you， if you like. But I won’t press you for an answer. You can think about it. If you want me back， hang it on your door. I will come to you if I see it.”
Qi left， and Bing sat still for a long while before reaching for the chime. He swung it， and the tinkling echoed in the room. Qi， living next door， upon hearing the jingling sound， rushed out to look for the chime on Bing’s door， but didn’t find it. Her tears welled up.
Bing took the chime with him when he went back to the army. He put it on the door of his quarters at the garrison， in the desolate， windy northwest. The chime tinkled all day long. Bing gazed at it whenever he was unoccupied， saying to himself， “Qi， I put it on my door. Can you see it？”
The other soldiers were at first curious about the chime， but soon found it annoying. Bing was asked to take it down， and so he did. But from time to time， he would find a quiet corner， sit down， and jingle it from chest height. Hearing the clinking， he would say to himself， “Qi， I put it on my heart， can you see it？”
Qi， of course， didn’t see it， be it at Bing’s garrison door or on his chest. She kept looking next-door， but the chime wasn’t there.
Bing retired from the army two years later. When he went home， Qi didn’t show up. “Where is Qi？” Bing asked. An acquaintance said Qi seldom ventured out of her house after Gou left her for a younger woman.
The next day， Bing hung the wind chime on his door. But Qi didn’t appear.
Bing stared at it， whispering to himself， “Qi， I put the chime on my door. Do you see it？”
The chime tinkled in the breeze. Bing thought to himself， “Qi， the chime jingles. Do you hear it？”
Qi saw it， and heard it. But she stayed put in her seat， with the baby on her lap.
The next day， Bing took down the chime and rocked it from chest height. Accompanied by the sharp clinking， he went to Qi’s house.
At the sight of Bing， Qi lowered her head. “I’m an abandoned woman. What are you here for？”
“I’ve come to tell you， I put the chime on the door and on my heart as well，” Bing said. He swang the chime.
Qi’s child， now four years old， extended a hand towards it. “I want it， Ma.”