Fortress Besieged

by Qian Zhongshu

  With that Miss Su felt better. Then she brought up some old school matters; and when Hung-chien saw she really had nothing important to say, he said, “I’d better be going. This evening you still have to go out with your mother on a social engagement.”

  Miss Su said, “I don’t have any engagement. That was just an excuse, because Hsin-mei was so rude to you. I don’t want to make him any more arrogant.”

  Hung-chien said nervously, “You’re too kind to me.”

  Miss Su glanced at him; then lowering her head she said, “Sometimes I really shouldn’t be so kind to you.” The tender words he was supposed to say at that point squirmed in the air and rushed to the tip of his tongue to be spoken. He didn’t want to say them, yet he couldn’t remain silent. As he saw Miss Su’s hand resting on the edge of the sofa, he reached out and patted the back of her hand. She drew back her hand and said softly, “You go now. Come a little early tomorrow afternoon.” She walked him to the door of the living room. As he crossed the threshold, she called, “Hung-chien.” He turned around and asked what was the matter. She said, “Nothing. I was just watching you. Why did you dash forward without even turning your head? Ha, ha, I have become such an unreasonable woman. I wanted you to grow eyes at the back of your head. Come early tomorrow.”

  When he left her, Fang thought he had become a part of spring, at one with it in spirit and no longer the outsider of two hours ago. As he walked along, his body felt so light that it seemed the ground was floating upward. Just two small matters bothered him. First, he should never have touched Miss Su’s hand; he should have pretended he didn’t understand what she meant. Being too softhearted, he had often catered to women without intending to, because he didn’t want to offend them. In the future he’d just have to talk and act more decisively and not let things get serious. Second, Miss T’ang had many boy friends and might already be in love with someone. So vexed by this fact, he struck his cane violently against a roadside tree and decided he’d better quash all hope from the very start. What a disgrace it would be if he were to be jilted by a teen-age girl!

  Disconsolately, he hopped on a trolley car and saw a young couple sitting nearby whispering tender words to each other. On the boy’s lap was a pile of high school textbooks; the girl’s book covers were all decorated with pictures of movie stars. Though she was no more than sixteen or seventeen, her face was made up like a mask kneaded out of gobs of rouge and powder. Shanghai is certainly avant-garde culturally. The phenomenon of high school girls painting and plastering their faces to attract men is rare even abroad, he reflected. But this girl’s face was so obviously faked, for no one would possibly believe that powdered wafer cake pasted on her face could be her own. It suddenly occurred to Fang that Miss T’ang did not use any makeup. A girl who works hard at making up either has a boy friend already and has discovered a new interest or value in her body, or else she’s looking for a boy friend and is hanging out a colorful eye-catching signboard to attract a man’s attention. Since Miss T’ang dresses plainly, she obviously doesn’t have a man in her life, he concluded. His conclusion had such a profound psychological basis and had followed such precise logical reasoning that he couldn’t sit still in his seat.

  When the trolley car reached his stop, he rushed ahead and jumped off without waiting for the trolley car to come to a stop, nearly falling down as he did so. Luckily, by supporting himself with his cane and pushing against a utility pole with his left hand, he managed to check his downward momentum. He broke out in a cold sweat from the scare, and a layer of skin was scraped from his left palm. He was also rebuked by the trolley car attendant. When he reached home he applied some tincture of merthiolate to his palm, blaming Miss T’ang for his mishap and promising to get even with her later. Like foam, a smile floated up from his heart to his face, and the pain was immediately forgotten. It didn’t occur to him, however, that the scrape might have been punishment for his having put his hand on top of Miss Su’s a while ago.

  The next day when he arrived at the Sus, Miss T’ang was already there. Before he had sat down, Chao Hsin-mei came. Chao greeted him and then said, “Mr. Fang, you left late yesterday and came early today. This must be a good habit you developed in the banking business. Your diligence is commendable. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, thank you.” Fang Hung-chien had thought of saying that Hsin-mei’s early departure and late arrival must be in the bureaucratic tradition of a yamen mandarin,9 but he changed his mind and kept the thought to himself. He even smiled pleasantly at Hsin-mei. Hsin-mei, on the other hand, had not expected him to be so meek and was startled to find that he had struck at thin air. Meanwhile, Miss T’ang looked surprised and so did Miss Su at the lack of drama. However, Miss Su assumed that Fang’s meekness was the magnanimity usually demonstrated by the victor, and since Hung-chien knew she loved him, Hung-chien felt no need to quarrel with Hsin-mei.

  Mr. and Mrs. Shen arrived. While introductions were made and pleasantries exchanged, Chao Hsin-mei picked the sofa nearest Miss Su and sat down. The Shens sat together on a long sofa, and Miss T’ang sat on an embroidered couch between the Shens and Miss Su. Next to Mrs. Shen, Hung-chien sat by himself. He had no sooner seated himself than he regretted it immensely, for Mrs. Shen had an odor about her for which there is an elegant expression in classical Chinese as well as an idiom in Latin, both using the goat as a comparison: yun-ti and olet hircum (smelling like a goat). Mingled with the scent of face powder and the fragrance of flowers, this smell was so strong that it made Fang Hung-chien queasy, yet he was too polite to smoke a cigarette to dispel the stench. Here was a woman just returned from France all right, bringing back to China a whole “symphony of foul odors” from the Paris marketplace. Fang never ran into her while in Paris, and now of all times there was no escape from her; the explanation seemed to be that Paris was big while the world was small.

  Mrs. Shen was rather odd-looking and very heavily made up; the two black bags under her eyes were like round canteen bottles, filled probably with hot, passionate tears; the thick lipstick had been washed into her mouth and colored the yellowish, rough ridges of her teeth red, making her teeth look like hemorrhoids dripping with blood or the clues to a bloody murder in a detective yarn. Her speech was full of French exclamations such as “Tiens!” and “O la la!” as she squirmed her body around into various seductive poses. Each twist of the body let off a fresh wave of the smell. Hung-chien wished he could have told her that it was quite enough if she’d just talk with her mouth and be careful not to twist herself in two.

  Mr. Shen’s lower lip was thick and drooping. One could tell at a glance that he was a man who spoke much and quickly as though he had diarrhea of the mouth. He was describing how he had propagandized the war to the French and how he had won the sympathy of quite a few people for China’s cause. “After the withdrawal from Nanking,10 they all said China was finished. I said to them, ‘During the war in Europe, didn’t your government also move the capital out of Paris? Yet you were the final victors!’ They had nothing to say to that, no sir, not a thing.”

  Hung-chien was thinking, Governments may be able to move their capitals, but I can’t change my seat.

  As though offering an expert’s opinion, Chao Hsin-mei observed, “An excellent answer! Why don’t you write an article about it?”

  “Wei-lei [Mrs. Shen] put those remarks of mine in the foreign correspondence column in a Shanghai paper. Didn’t you see it, Mr. Chao?” asked Mr. Shen with a touch of disappointment.

  Mrs. Shen twisted around and gestured at her husband, saying with a coquettish smile, “Why bring up that thing of mine? Who’d ever have noticed it?”

  Hsin-mei said quickly, “Yes, I did see it. I was very much impressed. Now I remember, it had the part about relocating the capital.”

  “I didn’t see it,” Hung-chien interrupted. “What was it called?”

  Hsin-mei said, “You philosophers study timeless questions, so naturally you don’t read newspapers. It was called�
��uh—it’s on the tip of my tongue. Why can’t I think of it just now?” He had never read the article in the first place but couldn’t pass up the chance to humiliate Hung-chien.

  Miss Su said, “You can’t blame him. He probably was in the country at the time the article appeared, and he might not have seen any newspapers. Right, Hung-chien? The title is quite easy to remember: ‘Some Letters to My Sisters in the Motherland.’ At the top was a headline in large type which went something like this, ‘A Verdant Island of Europe in the Azure Blood of Asia.’ Mrs. Shen, is my memory correct?”

  “Oh, that’s right,” said Hsin-mei, slapping his own thigh. “‘Some Letters to My Sisters in the Motherland’ and ‘A Verdant Island of Europe in the Azure Blood of Asia.’ Beautiful titles. What a good memory you have, Wen-wan!”

  Mrs. Shen said, “Gee, you even remember that silly thing of mine. No wonder all the people who know you say you are a genius.”

  Miss Su said, “If it is something good, you don’t have to remember it. It’ll leave a deep impression by itself.”

  Miss T’ang said to Hung-chien, “Mrs. Shen wrote her article for us women to read. You’re one of the ‘brothers in the motherland,’ and you can be forgiven for not having noticed it.”

  Since Mrs. Shen was not young and since her letter was not addressed to her “nieces and grandnieces in the motherland,” Miss T’ang, by reading it, had been elevated to the status of Mrs. Shen’s sister.

  To make amends for his forgetfulness, Hsin-mei flattered Mrs. Shen, saying that the Sino-American News Agency was going to publish a women’s magazine and asking for her help. The Shens grew even more friendly toward Hsin-mei.

  The servant drew the curtain separating the dining room from the living room, and Miss Su invited everyone to step inside for refreshments. Hung-chien felt like a criminal having been granted a pardon. When he finished eating, he returned to the living room and quickly sat next to Miss T’ang.

  Mrs. Shen and Chao Hsin-mei were so deeply engrossed in their conversation that they could not be separated; since he had a stuffy nose and a cold Hsin-mei didn’t mind being close to Mrs. Shen. Meanwhile, Mr. Shen was dropping hints to Miss Su with the intention of having Uncle Su11 find him a position in Hong Kong. On the other hand, Fang Hung-chien decided his luck that day had turned for the better, as in the expression “After the bitter comes the sweet,” and he asked Miss T’ang in a whisper, “You didn’t eat anything just now, as if you didn’t feel well. Are you better now?”

  “I ate quite a bit,” said Miss T’ang. “There is nothing wrong with me.”

  “I’m not the host; you needn’t be polite with me. I clearly saw you drink a mouthful of soup, then frown and play with the spoon without eating anything else.”

  “What’s so interesting about watching someone eat? Is it polite to keep staring at someone? I didn’t like you watching me eat, so I didn’t eat. That’s what you did to me—Ha, ha, Mr. Fang, don’t take it seriously. I really didn’t know you were watching others eat. Tell me, when you were sitting down next to Mrs. Shen, why did you turn your face away and hold your mouth tightly shut as if under torture?”

  “So the same thing happened to you!” Fang Hung-chien and Miss T’ang laughed intimately, having now become comrades in adversity.

  Miss T’ang said, “Mr. Fang, I’m a little disappointed today.”

  “Disappointed? What were you hoping for? Wasn’t that smell strong enough for you?”

  “It’s not that. I thought for sure that there’d be a lot of fireworks between you and Chao Hsin-mei. Who would have thought there’d be nothing.”

  “I’m sorry that there wasn’t any nice drama for you to watch. Chao Hsin-mei misunderstands my relationship with your cousin. Maybe you are under the same misunderstanding. I just let him be the provocateur today, while I sit back without returning his salvos to let him know I have nothing against him.”

  “Is that true? Wouldn’t a mere indication from my cousin clear up the misunderstanding?”

  “Maybe your cousin has her own ideas. Dispatching a general on a mission isn’t as effective as challenging him to do it as a mission impossible. There has to be a major adversary before Mr. Chao’s ability can come to the fore. Too bad this tired old soldier can’t live up to the fight and for that matter isn’t interested in the fighting.”

  “Why not be a volunteer?”

  “No, it’d be like dragging in a conscript.” As he said this, Fang Hung-chien regretted having spoken so flippantly, since there was no guarantee that Miss T’ang wouldn’t pass all this on to Miss Su.

  “But often the underdog gets more sympathy from the bystanders.”

  Realizing that this remark could be misconstrued, Miss T’ang blushed. “I mean, my cousin might be aiding the smaller, weaker people.”12

  Hung-chien was so overjoyed at hearing this that his heart skipped a beat. “That’s her business. Miss T’ang, I’d like to invite you and your cousin for dinner tomorrow at the O Mei-chun. May I have the honor?”

  Miss T’ang hesitated and before she could answer, Hung-chien went on, “I know it’s very presumptuous of me. Your cousin told me you have many friends. Though I am unworthy, I’d like very much to be included among them.”

  “I don’t have any friends. My cousin was talking nonsense. What did she say to you?”

  “Oh, nothing in particular. Just that you are very good at socializing and know quite a few people.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I am just an ignorant country girl!”

  “You’re being polite. Please come tomorrow. I wanted to go to that restaurant but didn’t have a good excuse. I’m using you two as a pretext so I can enjoy myself. Please oblige me by accepting the invitation.”

  Miss T’ang said with a smile, “Mr. Fang, there’s something behind everything you say. If that’s the way it is, I’ll certainly come. What time tomorrow evening?”

  Hung-chien told her the time. Relaxed and happy, he heard Mrs. Shen speak in her sonorous voice, “The time I attended the World Conference of Women, I observed a widespread trend. Women all over the world are now going in the direction of men.” Hung-chien was both startled and amused, thinking, It’s been like that since ancient times. Mrs. Shen shouldn’t have to attend a women’s conference now to find that out. Meanwhile, Mrs. Shen continued, “All the occupations that men have held, such as members of parliament, lawyers, journalists, airplane pilots, women can hold and perform just as well as men. A Yugoslav woman sociologist gave a lecture at the conference in which she said that with the exception of women who were willing to be virtuous wives and mothers, career women could be called ‘the third sex.’ Though the women’s liberation movement is a recent development, already there have been such outstanding achievements. I would venture to say that in the near future the distinction between the sexes will become an historic term.”

  Chao Hsin-mei said, “You’re right, Mrs. Shen. Women today really are capable! Wen-wan, take Miss Hsü Pao-ch’iung, for instance. Do you know her, Mrs. Shen? She helps her father manage a dairy farm and handles major and minor chores herself. Outwardly she looks so dainty and refined. You could never tell what she does.”

  Hung-chien said something to Miss T’ang, whereupon Miss T’ang burst out laughing.

  Miss Su said, “Pao-ch’iung is more clever than her father and is actually the behind-the-scenes manager.” Disgusted by Hung-chien’s closeness to Miss T’ang, she asked, “Hsiao-fu, what’s so funny?”

  Miss T’ang just shook her head and laughed.

  Miss Su then said, “Hung-chien, if there’s a joke let us hear it.”

  Hung-chien too shook his head and said nothing, making it even more apparent that he and Miss T’ang were sharing a mutual secret. Miss Su became quite vexed, and Chao Hsin-mei, putting on his most supercilious expression, said, “Maybe the great philosopher Fang was expounding some optimistic philosophy of life, which made Miss T’ang so happy. Right, Miss T’ang?”

  Ignoring Hsin-mei,
Fang Hung-chien said to Miss Su, “I heard Mr. Chao say he couldn’t tell by looking at Miss Hsü that she runs a dairy farm. Maybe Mr. Chao thinks Miss Hsü ought to grow two horns on her head so that people could tell who she is at one glance. Otherwise, you could never tell what she does, no matter what she looks like.”

  Chao Hsin-mei said, “That makes no sense. If she grew horns on her head and turned into a cow herself, how would that show she’s a dairy manager?” While he was speaking, he looked around the room and roared with laughter, feeling he had trounced Fang Hung-chien again. Determined not to be the first one to leave, he entrenched himself deeper into the sofa.

  Having achieved his aim, Fang Hung-chien did not care to stay any longer and wanted to leave while there were still enough people present to make his parting from Miss Su a little easier. Since he hadn’t been near her that day, Miss Su made a point to see him to the hallway. Her reasoning was similar to warming one’s hands in front of the stove before stepping outside on a cold day.

  Hung-chien said, “Miss Su, I didn’t have a chance to talk with you much today. Are you free tomorrow evening? I’d like to invite you to dinner at the O Mei-chun. I don’t care to have Chao Hsin-mei invite me. I just wish I were an old customer. I probably can’t order the dishes as well as he can.”

  The fact that Fang was still at odds with Chao Hsin-mei gave Miss Su an uplift in spirit. She said with a smile, “Fine. Just the two of us, then?” As soon as she said this, she felt a little embarrassed, having realized that the question was unnecessary.

  Fang Hung-chien said hesitatingly, “No, your cousin is also coming.”

  “Oh, she is. Have you invited her?”

  “Yes, I did. She promised to come—to accompany you.”

  “All right then, goodbye.”

  Miss Su’s parting manner dampened Fang Hung-chien’s high spirits. He felt the situation between him and the two women was too difficult to handle and prayed that he would be able to handle it smoothly and cleanly and let Miss Su’s affections toward him die a painless death. He heaved a sigh for Miss Su. Though he didn’t love her, he had become softhearted because of her. It’s just too unfair! She is too scheming. She shouldn’t be so easily hurt and she should bear the situation without complaint. Why does love have to lower one’s mental resistance and make one so weak that one can be easily manipulated? If God really loved man, He would never be the master of man, he thought. If his thoughts had been made known to Chao Hsin-mei, Fang Hung-chien would have had to listen to Hsin-mei’s abuse about how “the philosopher is up to tricks.”