Sunday, 14 December 2025

Chinese sayings: 47 (心有餘悸 / 心有余悸 [C])


This is the third blog in this mini series.

    For ease of reference and background understanding, I reproduce the saying here, with its explanation, for those who have not started with the first blog in this mini series.


心有餘悸 / 心有余悸

xīn yǒu yú jì

"heart has remaining palpitations"


This saying approximates to PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder).


(from googling) 心中仍留有余悸,形象地描绘了人在遭受惊吓事件后,那种残余的恐惧或不安感。这是更贴切地描述 PTSD 患者内心感受的表达。


(google translate) Quote The lingering fear vividly depicts the residual fear or unease a person experiences after a frightening event. This is a more accurate description of the inner feelings of PTSD patients. Unquote


I've been watching a mainland Chinese drama series, set between 1979 and 1992 around a few families living in the same alley in Suzhou.

    The two main families living next door to each other in the same courtyard, and who get on well, are:


(i) a teacher, his textile factory worker wife, and their two children (son and daughter, both scholastically good performers);


(ii) an engineer, his textile factory worker wife, and their son.


    The teacher's parents treat their three children unfairly:  the  eldest son (the teacher) is expected to shoulder the entire responsibility of being a filial son to his parents (giving them all his pay), as well as a supportive brother to his younger siblings (being asked to let their children go and stay at his already overcrowded place during the school holidays, for him to give them extra tuition for their exams).

    The teacher's wife, as the outsider (being the daughter-in-law), is treated even more unfairly, time after time after time.  For example, she cooks the food for the family gathering, yet is told to go and eat it in the kitchen because there's no more space at the main and side tables.  The grandchildren, one generation down, are accorded more respect than she is.

    The teacher's daughter says to the engineer's son, who is her boyfriend at this point of the story -- they are both university age now:


妈对别人好,但要[是]别人对不起她了,她也不会再真心对那个人;一旦伤了妈妈的心,她就再也不会真心实意地对那个人了。


(google translate) Quote My mother is kind to others, but if someone wrongs her, she will no longer be sincere to that person; once someone hurts my mother's heart, she will never be sincere to that person again. Unquote


    The snippet above could've been written with me in mind.

    I've been soul-searching over the last 12 months about getting shouted at unfairly as a guest with no option to leave.  Was / am I being too sensitive?  What's wrong with getting shouted at (even if unfairly)?  What's wrong with being trapped under someone's roof, unable to go back to my own space to cry after being made to feel so unwelcome?  Am I wrong feeling that I'd been stupid to have put their interests first, every single time, and yet when it came to mine, they'd had no qualms in abandoning me?  

    The abandoned bit:  I'd asked the wife to help me with applying for an e-visa (which she had to do as well) -- to do it together as I'm very bad with bureaucracy (it has the "cockroach effect" on me).  She went ahead and did hers (/theirs) on her own, and left me high and dry.

    I'd said I might want to move back to Singapore, but I'd need to go out there and stay for a while, to do the research and make the enquiries, adding that I have nowhere to stay in Singapore because I only have one nephew there who has a studio flat.  They have a four-bed flat in Singapore, left empty for yonks throughout the year except when they're visiting (for a few weeks each year, if that), yet she specified that I could stay there "if we're there".

    I'd been house-sitting for them for the last few winters, which means that when they're out there, I'd be house-sitting here for them, so we would never be in Singapore at the same time, therefore the answer is no.

    When I mentioned this to a friend, without even seeking an opinion, the friend immediately said, "They don't trust you to stay in their flat over there."

    Although a bit rusty finding my way around Singapore, I am still not a total stranger to the languages and culture there, so I won't need any of her relatives over there (a huge extended clan who are very rich) to look after me -- if that's what she was thinking.  She only needed to arrange for the keys to get into my hands.  But no, she wouldn't do even that.

    I did some googling on house-sitting charges after Christmas, and they were, for the most basic house-sitting service, easily something like £1,000 to £1,500 for the three months (the last time I looked), if not more (I've been so upset that I haven't gone to check them out again, as thinking about it brings up the bile, and I hate controversies as well).

    The above were basic house-sitting charges.  No extra chores thrown in, like picking up their medicines (for all sorts of age-related conditions) from their appointed chemist, cutting out all the extra blister pack around every single pill to reduce the weight / postage, using sticky tape to tape down the individual pills onto a sheet of A4 paper, weighing them up together with the envelope to make sure it didn't exceed a certain weight/charge, then taking that to the post office or some courier service locker arrangement (key in the codes, etc, etc) to drop them off.

    Nor extra chores like sorting out their suddenly defunct deep freezers and the resultant defrosted and rotting food in them, plus cleaning out the deep freezers.

    Nor the two leaky ceiling incidents, both late at night.

    The first leak was down the side wall, where the only socket was.  I had to pull the bed away from the wall, to make room for an empty plastic container (the face cream type) to be fitted over and around the socket area, wrap and tie a few plastic bags around this container, then push the bed back against the wall to wedge it in, pile up more plastic bags, towels and newspapers over this wodge to absorb any subsequent leaks that might travel down the wall.  I was worried sick that this incident might blow up the electricity supply in the whole four-bed house, and I'd then be without electricity.

    The second leak had travelled across the ceiling one quarter of the way into the room, and rain dripped onto my face at 2 a.m. while I was fast asleep in bed.  Again, a rude awakening.  I had to leap up and out of bed, pull all the bedding off, go and fetch as many containers/pots as possible to place on my bed to catch the drips.  Sleeping on the floor was the only bit that was not stressful.

    All this without being offered, never mind actually paid, a penny for my three-month stints (plural).  And yet she was not willing to offer me her four-bed flat in Singapore for me to stay in during my time researching the possibility of moving back to Singapore.  The sense of betrayal and abandonment hurts deeply.

    Of course, I'm to blame for being so stupid.  Stupid to be compassionate and kind.  (This old dog is trying to learn.)

    The bedroom I was given over the two winters had one radiator not working, the other one only came on twice a day.  A mainland Chinese friend had to donate her electric blanket during my second winter there, and even then I only used it when it was really cold.  The rest of the time, I'd pile all my clothes (sweaters, bath towel, trousers, winter coat) on top of my duvet, and wear a woolly hat and gloves in bed.  Another friend made me two beanbags (as hot water bottles, for heating up in the microwave -- to save money on heating up water in the kettle for filling up the standard hard rubber hot water bottles). 

    This is what I was doing for them: trying to save them all the pennies I could, yet she wouldn't let me stay in her empty four-bed flat in Singapore.

    Actually, my presence at Xmas being resented, and getting shouted at unfairly is not so hurtful in comparison. It's her betrayal that goes deeper.

    The snippet from the mainland Chinese series cited at the beginning of this blog: It reads almost like the writers for the series had known about my experiences with this couple and incorporated them into this particular segment, to stop me wondering if I might've been too sensitive feeling abandoned and betrayed, and to stop me feeling guilty about not being in touch again after getting shouted at on Boxing Day at their house.

    (Yes, she did try to text me on a few occasions since Xmas last year.  From what I could read in the first few words, a couple of them were to ask if I would house-sit for them again this winter, among other things.  Yes, again, it was to try and get ME to go and be their donkey, not to offer me support in any form, let alone monetary reward for my efforts thus far, or for the new house-sitting stint.  No, I didn't open the texts, I only caught the first few words which was enough to send me plunging into another deep depression.)


(google translate) Quote My mother is kind to others, but if someone wrongs her, she will no longer be sincere to that person; once someone hurts my mother's heart, she will never be sincere to that person again. Unquote. 


Thank you, thank you, the writer(s) for the series.  Someone out there understands.


(London, 2021–2024)



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