by Anyi, Wang
At three o’clock the next day Long Legs paid a visit to Wang Qiyao, bringing along a box of cosmetics for her. As soon as he got upstairs, the bitter smell of Chinese herbs assailed his nostrils; a pot of medicine was simmering on the stove. Wang Qiyao had been taking a nap and got up only when he arrived. Long Legs noticed her dry skin and yellow complexion and asked her what was wrong. Wang Qiyao said she had too much cold energy in her stomach and too much heat in her liver. She wanted to make him some tea, but Long Legs insisted on helping himself, and offered to bring her medicine over to her. Wang Qiyao said that it still needed ten more minutes, so Long Legs sat down. They chatted about how important it is to take care of one’s health, and Long Legs told her about his trip to Hong Kong; before they knew it, ten minutes had gone by. He went into the kitchen to turn off the stove and pour the medicine into a bowl for her, almost scalding himself in the process. He set the bowl of black bitter liquid beside her bed.
He waited until she had finished the medicine and was sucking on a piece of candy to get the bitter taste out of her mouth before he placed the two keys on the table. He told her that Old Colour had asked him to drop them off for him. The instant she laid eyes on the keys, Wang Qiyao spat out the candy and spit up a mouthful of her medicine into the bowl. Long Legs rushed over to pat her on the back; after the fit had passed, he helped her to lie back down.
“That’s life for you,” Wang Qiyao laughed. “I’m sorry for not being a good host today, but I’ll have you over some other time.”
Long Legs insisted that none of that was necessary—after all, they were old friends. He was only concerned that here she was, sick, with no one to take care of her. He decided to keep her company, and sitting down beside her, he regaled her with all kinds of stories. At dusk he went into the kitchen to cook dinner, but didn’t even know where to start and ended up just standing there in front of the gas stove. Finally Wang Qiyao staggered in and said that she would handle it. Long Legs wanted to help but, not knowing how, just stood beside her, lending a hand when needed. Before long, two bowls of noodles were ready; Wang Qiyao also steamed a bowl of salted fish patty especially for him. After she finished half her noodles, Wang Qiyao’s face seemed to regain its color. She appeared to be in better spirits and smiled wryly as she looked around the room. “Look at this room! The instant I fell ill, all the dust started to accumulate, as if it wants to bury me!”
“What’s the big deal about dust? You just wipe it away and it’s gone!”
With that, he actually picked up a rag and started wiping the furniture, which really did brighten up the place. He also turned on the television and the room finally began to feel alive with the music.
Long Legs came back first thing in the morning for the next two days, exhausting every ounce of his energy in taking care of Wang Qiyao. Watching him, Wang Qiyao couldn’t help wondering, Why is he bothering with all this? But then she figured, Why else? And then, mocking herself: Why should I care about his reasons anyway? Nevertheless, she deeply appreciated Long Legs being there for her at such a difficult time, and tried her best to share all kinds of gossip to keep him amused. Long Legs was spellbound by her stories and became even more solicitous in hopes of hearing more. When she grew tired from talking, it would be his turn to tell her stories. He finally got around to the price of gold, telling her that its value on the black market was several times what was quoted on the official exchange.
“But isn’t that illegal?” asked Wang Qiyao. “I remember people getting executed for doing that in the fifties!”
“There is the old saying, ‘The government can get away with arson, but the people aren’t allowed to light a lamp’!” joked Long Legs. “If you want to talk about illegal dealings, well, the state is the biggest crook out there! What we do on the black market is small time compared to them!”
Wang Qiyao smiled. “The way you put it makes sense.”
“Even so, everything comes down to timing. Right now things are fairly open, but who knows when the authorities might clamp down,” remarked Long Legs.
“So what do you suggest?” asked Wang Qiyao.
“Well, if you have gold, I’d say that now is the best time to exchange it.”
“That may be, but who has gold lying around in this day and age?”
“If I had to hazard a guess,” said Long Legs, “I’d say that at least one out of every hundred has some gold stashed away somewhere. When we were ransacking people’s homes during the Cultural Revolution, we even found two gold bars hidden in the home of a rickshaw coolie!”
Wang Qiyao laughed, “I wish I was that rickshaw coolie!”
Long Legs laughed too, and that marked the end of that conversation. Over the next few days, Wang Qiyao gradually regained her strength and started to feel better.
“It’s been a long time since everybody got together. What do you say about having a party this Saturday night?” she suggested.
“Sounds great!” Long Legs readily assented. “I haven’t really seen any of my friends since getting back from Hong Kong, so this is a good opportunity to see everybody.”
“I’ll take care of the food, and you can be in charge of inviting the people,” Wang Qiyao said.
Long Legs agreed and headed for the door. When he got to the stairs, he suddenly turned around. “Should we invite Old Colour?”
“Why ever not?” asked Wang Qiyao. “He should be the first one on the list!”
After that, they each began making preparations. Because Wang Qiyao was still weak, she decided to take the easy route; so instead of doing all the cooking, she put in an order with the privately owned restaurant that had recently opened on the corner. She had everything delivered so that she would only have to prepare some beverages, fruit, and pastries. The day of the party, all she did was rearrange the furniture slightly and put out a new tablecloth and some fresh flowers; suddenly the entire room felt different. Wang Qiyao suddenly thought to herself, It has been so long since I hosted a party. For so long there has been only one person coming in and out of this apartment, but tonight we’ll have some fun!
Everything was ready by three o’clock; all that remained was for the guests to arrive and the food to be delivered. The tidy room felt a bit empty. Wang Qiyao sat all alone, and her heart also felt a bit empty. The sun shone into the window, creating a powerful glare. The children didn’t have to go to school on Saturday afternoon, and they were all playing outside in the longtang, singing songs, some new and others several decades old and familiar to Wang Qiyao. The potted oleanders on the rooftop terrace across the way were sprouting new leaves, green and glossy. After all, it was spring and the days were getting longer. It seemed as if the sun would never set. The staircase was silent, the guests had yet to arrive, but the crisp sounds of footsteps reverberated down the longtang, now approaching, now fading away. But there was no need to worry: an exciting night was approaching—it would be here soon enough.
Old Colour never showed up. In his heart he knew that Wang Qiyao was throwing the party especially for him; he also knew that going would bring him nothing but discomfort and sadness—those were the delicacies that Wang Qiyao was preparing for him. But he still couldn’t resist riding around Peace Lane that night at around ten o’clock, when most parties reached their climax. Coming down the alley, he saw a flickering light in Wang Qiyao’s window—not, he knew, a light bulb, but candlelight. Gazing up at the window, he was lost in a daze for several minutes, wondering, What year is this scene from? He could hear the sound of music but couldn’t date it. Then he turned around and left, reassuring himself that no matter what, he now could say that he had dropped by. That was his way of replying to her invitation! That was their official good-bye, accompanied by music and dance. He was neither happy nor sad: he just numbly turned his back on the gaiety and left. The partygoers caught up in the excitement of the music and dancing were creatures of illusion—if he were to reach out to try to grasp at them, his hands would come up empty. As for the past t
hat flowed like water—he could cross bridges and ferry his way across rivers, but in the end it would always elude him.
Wang Qiyao actually knew that he wouldn’t show up. Her invitation was simply a message, a way of telling him that she couldn’t let go of him, and that without him all gatherings were pointless. She ran around the apartment busying herself with making the guests comfortable, but all that was just to fill the emptiness in her heart. After she had turned off the lights and lit the candles, she felt some of the good times from her past coming back to her. The apartment filled with young friends singing and dancing made her forget that time was passing. Everyone was carrying on about what a wonderful time they were having. Then before they knew it, the clock had struck twelve and the night was gone. The wine bottles were empty and all that was left of the enormous cake was messy bits and pieces. Her friends bid her an affectionate farewell and, one after the other, filed down the stairs. Long Legs was the last to leave; he wanted to stay behind to help her clean up the plates and cups.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it tomorrow. I’m too tired to worry about it tonight,” she told him.
As soon as Long Legs was out the door, she blew out all the candles; silence fell over the apartment and the stairway was plunged into pitch-black darkness.
“Good-bye,” Long Legs called out as he went softly down the stairs. He closed the door behind him as he exited through the back. When he got outside, a shiver suddenly came over him. A handful of scattered stars emitted a dull light, and there was a chill in the wind. Long Legs continued to shiver slightly as he undid his bicycle lock and peddled out of the longtang.
That night’s excitement left its mark on Peace Lane. All those who were accustomed to turning in early went to sleep thinking that the lights would be burning all night long at Wang Qiyao’s apartment. This was something quite out of the ordinary for Peace Lane, and it spiced up their dreams that night. The first thing anyone who happened to wake up in the middle of the night did was to look up at Wang Qiyao’s window to see if the party was still going on. People coming home from the late shift and those leaving for the night shift also gazed up at her window and thought, They’re still at it! Actually, it was only midnight then, and they had no idea of what transpired after that. The hours between two and three o’clock in the morning are the most peaceful hours, a time when even the insects are dreaming. The dreams of that hour are the soundest of all dreams—airtight, so that not even the wind can creep in—this is the hour people need to recover from the exhaustion of the previous day. The streetlights on Huaihai Road continued to shine quietly, lighting up the deserted road.
At the far end of Peace Lane there is only a single rusty iron lamp. It has been there for many years and emits a dirty, dull glow. It was during that hour of deathly silence that a long shadow crept into Peace Lane—it was Long Legs. Long Legs quietly parked his bicycle by the rear entrance to Wang Qiyao’s building, took out a key from his pants pocket, and unlocked the door. There was a sharp click as the lock popped open, but it was far from enough to break the deep silence of the world that night. Like a cat, he tiptoed up the stairs. Halfway up the staircase there was a small window, through which the moonlight shone down on him, but Long Legs was not himself that night and the light seemed to be shining on someone else. He surprised even himself with his own dexterity as he navigated around the staircase cluttered with junk. But he didn’t bump into a single thing and continued on up the stairs until he found himself standing outside Wang Qiyao’s door. The door to the common kitchen was ajar, letting in a little light and projecting his shadow onto the apartment door; his shadow too looked like someone else’s shadow. He paused for a moment before feeling for the other key.
Long Legs pushed open the door to find the interior bathed in moonlight, which projected the flower patterns from the curtains onto the floor. He felt calm and completely at ease. It was the first time that he had seen the room in the middle of the night like this and it looked completely different, yet he was able to find his way smoothly, without a single misstep. He saw the walnut chest against the wall, shimmering in the moonlight like a bride waiting to be taken to the altar. Anticipation overcame Long Legs. That’s it! So elegant and mysterious, it’s there waiting for me. It was like an assignation, at once stirring and tormenting. Long Legs’ heart pounded as he approached the chest; he pulled a screwdriver out of his pocket, itching to get it open. But in the moment that he fitted the screwdriver into the drawer lock, the light suddenly turned on.
The sight of his own shadow leaping onto the wall caught Long Legs by surprise, but as he scanned his surroundings, his eyes were reassured by the familiar scene. Even now he still hadn’t realized quite what had happened; out of habit, he wedged the screwdriver further in and, pressing down, popped open the drawer. Under the lamplight, the sound that it made was quite pronounced and it was only then that, startled, he turned around to find Wang Qiyao. She had gone to bed fully clothed, and was now sitting up, propped against the pillow. This had been a difficult night for Wang Qiyao to get through, and she had been awake the whole time. She had been counting the minutes, counting the seconds until sunrise, hoping that some miracle might turn up with the coming day. When she first saw Long Legs come in, she wasn’t in the least scared. She was aware that all kinds of bizarre events take place deep in the night, when even the most devilish of behavior seems normal. Even when she saw him pry open the drawer she wasn’t at all surprised, the middle of the night being a queer time when people witness all kinds of outlandish things with perfect composure.
“I told you,” Wang Qiyao said, “I don’t have any gold.”
Avoiding her gaze, Long Legs laughed in embarrassment, “But that’s not what everybody says.”
“What does everyone say?”
“Everyone says you were once Miss Shanghai and caused quite a stir on the Bund back then. Then later you got involved with some rich guy who left all his money to you before running off to Taiwan. They even say that he still sends you remittances in U.S. dollars every year.”
Wang Qiyao listened with curiosity to his version of her story. “And what else?”
Long Legs went on, “You have a chest filled with the yellow stuff, but you’ve only tapped into a fraction of it over the past several decades. You cash in a few bars at the Bank of China at regular intervals. If not for that, what would you live on?”
Wang Qiyao didn’t know what to say. After a brief pause, she said, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!”
Long Legs took a step closer and fell forward, kneeling before her bed. His voice trembled as he begged, “Please help me. Just loan me a little bit. I’ll pay you back double as soon as I get back on my feet.”
Wang Qiyao laughed. “Long Legs, has there been a time when you were ever on your feet?”
Long Legs’ pleading voice betrayed a hint of desperation, “Look at what I’ve been forced to resort to. Why would I lie to you? Please, Auntie, help me. Everyone knows what a good heart you have and how generous you are.”
Wang Qiyao had originally been ready to continue this little conversation, but as soon as she heard him start calling her “Auntie,” she found herself losing her temper. Her face became stern and she scolded him, “Who are you calling ‘Auntie’?”
Long Legs leaned on the edge of the bed and clung to Wang Qiyao’s leg as he pleaded yet again, “Please help me. I’ll write you an IOU.”
Wang Qiyao pushed his hand away. “Why are you coming to me for help and not your father? Everyone says that your father is a millionaire! Didn’t you just come back from Hong Kong?”
Those words pierced Long Legs to the heart. His face turned ashen and he withdrew his hands. Getting up from the floor, he brushed the dust off his knees, “What does this have to do with my father? If you aren’t willing to help me out, then just forget it!”
With that, he strutted toward the door.
But Wang Qiyao stopped him.
“Y
ou think it’s that easy to just walk out of here? I’ve never heard of someone trying to borrow money by sneaking into people’s homes in the middle of the night!”
Long Legs had no choice but to remain standing there.
Deep in the night, when people should be sleeping, their thoughts often wander off to strange places: they utter words that do not make sense and everything tends to degenerate into a farce. It seemed as if Wang Qiyao had successfully headed off a disaster and the story would end there, but just as the curtain was falling, she called “Stop” . . . and forced the action to go on.
“What do you want from me?” asked Long Legs.
“Go to the police station and turn yourself in,” replied Wang Qiyao.
Long Legs began to grow anxious. “And if I refuse?”
“Then I’ll go report you to them.”
“You don’t have any proof.”
Wang Qiyao smiled complacently. “What do you mean, I don’t have proof? You pried the drawer open and your fingerprints are everywhere.”
Long Legs suddenly felt as if he had been struck by a train—he felt dizzy and his forehead broke out in a cold sweat. He stood there for a while and then a sinister smile appeared on his face. “Looks like the result will be the same whether I do it or not, so I might as well finish what I started.”
With that, he walked over to the chest and pulled the wooden box out of the drawer. Unable to lie still any longer, Wang Qiyao got up from the bed to take back her possession. Long Legs ducked out of the way and held the box behind his back, out of her reach.
“What are you worried about, Auntie? Didn’t you say you didn’t have anything?”
Now it was Wang Qiyao’s turn to feel anxious. She began to perspire and screamed at him, “Put it down! You thief!”
“If you call me a thief, then that’s what I am!” A shameless, even brutal, look came over his face.
She tried to twist the box out of his hand, and he let her struggle all she wanted, but he wasn’t letting go. By then he had got a sense of the box’s weight. Excitement swelled inside him because now he knew that he had not gone through all this trouble in vain.