My fiancée, Liu Yun, is a doctoral student in a rare language. She uses it in everyday life and rarely speaks Mandarin.
To understand her better, I secretly taught myself the language while away on a yearlong business trip.
When I came home to prepare for my younger sister’s funeral, I heard her making a voice call with her ex-boyfriend in that language.
“Celebrating the fifth anniversary of our meeting at a funeral, and changing the eulogy into a love poem. How thrilling.”
“Our secret code belongs to just the two of us. What would that bunch of fools know?”
A chill swept through me. I knew perfectly well what they were saying, but I asked her anyway.
She translated impatiently: “Oh, I was going over the funeral arrangements with the officiant.”
