Love In No Man's Land

by Duo Ji Zhuo Ga

  She found a large shop and ransacked it from top to bottom, buying a huge stack of things to take back to her parents’ house. They’d bought the house last year and Feng had paid quite a bit towards it; it was one hundred and twenty square metres and her mother was finally satisfied.

  ‘Why did you buy so much? We’ve still got one bottle,’ Feng’s mother, a classic city woman, asked from the kitchen door, holding up a bottle of shampoo.

  ‘Take your time,’ Feng said, as she unpacked the vegetables into the fridge. She took out a box of uncooked mutton rolls, casually ripped it open and stuffed a couple into her mouth. The meat’s rich flavour filled her mouth and crept into her heart.

  ‘Why are you eating raw meat again?’ her mother shouted, appalled, as she snatched the box out of Feng’s hand.

  Without looking at her mother, Feng quickly walked out of the kitchen, through the living room and onto the deck. She could hear her parents in hushed discussion behind her.

  *

  Gongzha’s life continued as before. He searched for the bear and periodically returned to visit his mother.

  Baobao and Beibei had grown up. Now that they were no longer dependant on him for their survival, Gongzha decided to let them go. He was standing beneath the blue sky on the brown slope of a small rise in a valley surrounded by towering peaks. A herd of male antelopes was grazing nearby. They were almost the same age as Baobao and Beibei: not yet mature but already living on their own. Baobao and Beibei saw them, but their hooves seemed to be weighed down and they hesitated.

  ‘Off you go!’ Gongzha finally stood up, his chuba tied around his waist and his hair brushing his shoulders. Even though the antelopes had stayed with him, after Feng left it was if they’d lost their souls. ‘You should go too. Go and find your peers; don’t keep following me.’ He purposely didn’t look at them as he said this. He’d got used to having them around and he was reluctant to have them leave so suddenly.

  Baobao and Beibei hesitated a moment and then trotted down into the valley. When they turned back, there was no one there, only a golden, shining slope.

  Gongzha had seen no trace of Kaguo for a long time. He decided to climb to the top of Tajiapu to look for the chain that Yongxi had mentioned. There was the same large black boulder, the same strange symbol. As Gongzha felt the sable chain, his mind churned. Two identical chains, two identical boulders, two identical ¤ marks: Tajiapu, Chanaluo – so distant, but connected.

  He walked round the peak but found nothing else of interest so he went down the mountain again.

  *

  An idyllic farm in the suburbs of Shanghai. A narrow, shady, gravel path, willow branches gently waving beside it.

  This really was a beautiful time of year. The breeze and the sun were both just right, and all sorts of flowers were competing to display their colours. Over the weekend, some friends had got together to find somewhere lovely to play cards, chat or otherwise while away a day. Originally, Feng had been one of them; in the past, she’d been a tireless arranger of such events. But today, she didn’t know why, she didn’t have the heart for it.

  She and Zhuo Yihang strolled along the gravel path. When Feng frowned and sighed yet again, Yihang turned to her and said, hoping to make her laugh, ‘Your mother called me. She said you’d eaten almost an entire box of raw mutton and she wants me to get you to go to the hospital for a check-up. She thinks you’ve got some strange disease.’

  Feng rolled her eyes. ‘You’re the ones with the strange disease.’

  ‘You must know how strange it looks for you to eat raw meat here. You don’t want people to think you’ve gone feral, do you?’ Yihang was only half joking.

  ‘Why’s eating raw meat so bizarre? Cooked meat just doesn’t have any flavour – why should I eat it?’

  ‘My dear friend, this is Shanghai; don’t forget you’re a sophisticated woman.’

  Feng shot him another look. ‘Fuck you. Can’t you say something to make me feel better?’

  ‘Alright, alright, alright. Here’s something to make you feel better: last night I talked to Yang Fan, and he’s really coming back this time.’

  Feng stopped in her tracks and sighed lightly. ‘Does that mean I have to go to America?’

  ‘You need to think about that. Yang Fan’s coming back next month. Once you’re married, you can’t carry on living separately forever.’

  ‘I… Do I really have to marry Yang Fan?’

  ‘Feng, what’s wrong with you? You’ve been together for how many years? Your personal Eight Years’ War of Resistance is almost over! You’ve done enough complaining in the past about how little attention he pays you – all he cared about was studying, then all he cared about was his job, he never cared about your feelings – and now he’s coming back to marry you, but you look unhappy. What’s that about?’

  ‘I don’t know, Yihang. I’m really conflicted.’

  The two of them were standing on a rocky ledge beside a stream and as Feng stared at the lilies blooming on the water, tears clouded her gaze.

  ‘Even after three years, you still haven’t forgotten him…’

  ‘What?’ Feng turned and looked at Yihang in surprise.

  ‘My Uncle Gongzha, of course. What, you won’t admit it?’

  Feng was silent. A moment later, two teardrops the size of beans rolled down her face. Yihang knew her so well.

  ‘Why don’t you go and find him?’

  ‘Find him?’ Feng was shocked again. ‘What about Yang Fan?’

  ‘He’ll find himself another pretty woman soon enough. Don’t forget, he’s a returning PhD student and a top man on Wall Street. Women ten times better than you will be making eyes at him,’ Zhuo Yihang said, half joking and half in earnest.

  ‘But… what about my parents?’ Feng’s eyes were gleaming, but she was still hesitant.

  ‘Your parents are only in their sixties, they’re in good health, and, anyway, your brother’s here, isn’t he? What’s there to worry about? Besides, you’d only be moving to northern Tibet. It’s quite a way away, true, but it’s still in China. And transport’s so much better now, you can fly to Lhasa in three hours.’

  As Feng looked at Yihang, her eyes brightened and it was if the cloud that had settled over her face for days had been blown away. She gave him a spontaneous hug. ‘Thank you, thank you, Yihang. Thank you so much. You don’t know how miserable it’s been, thinking about Tibet all the time – while I’m reading work reports, while I’m shopping, even while I’m eating.’

  ‘I just hope Yang Fan doesn’t kill me when he gets back.’ Yihang gave Feng an affectionate shove and chuckled. ‘Wait till I come back to Tibet, then you’ll need to slaughter a yak for me.’

  ‘Yes, yes, yes – and ten sheep,’ Feng said, her smile like a flower in full bloom.

  ‘It sounds like you really want to marry him,’ Zhuo Yihang prodded. ‘You need to prepare yourself. I spoke to Lamu and apparently Gongzha recently went back to No Man’s Land to take revenge on that bear. Cuomu really is rooted deep in his heart – there may not be room for you.’

  ‘Don’t worry, once this beautiful woman has made up her mind, there’s no escaping her! He can hunt the bear and I will hunt him.’

  *

  Out in the vast, desolate wilderness, the sky was still blue and the earth still brown. And there was still that figure with his gun and his horse…

  ‘The stars in the sky

  Are like Brother’s eyes

  Watching Sister’s silhouette.

  The butter lamps ablaze all night

  Cannot see your eyes, Brother,

  As they fall inside the tent

  To light up Sister’s heart.’

  He sang the lament in a voice full of heartbreak.

  He was walking into the wind. That was the hunter’s way: he could smell what was ahead of him without revealing himself to his prey. Two days earlier he’d caught sight of Kaguo at the entrance to a valley, but before he could pick up his gun, she’d
disappeared into a ravine. Gongzha had followed.

  Gongzha and Kaguo had been playing this game of chase for so long; sometimes it seemed as if it would go on forever, at other times it felt like the end was drawing near.

  That night, Gongzha slept in a hollow on a slope overlooking Yongxi’s winter pasture. He wrapped himself in his chuba, leaving only his eyes exposed, as desolate as the stars in the sky. Yellow butter lamps glowed in the tent below. To the wanderer, they represented a kind of unreachable warmth: a home; a home with children and a woman. Gongzha didn’t dare go near Yongxi again. He was afraid of getting lost in the warmth of those lamps. Yongxi was like a sister to him and he didn’t want to alter that relationship.

  In the middle of the night came the sounds of a quarrel from the tent at the base of the mountain.

  ‘You’re the child’s mother, but I’m his father – why won’t you come with me?’ said the man’s voice.

  ‘The child is a seed that you forced into my body; I birthed him because I had no choice. You can have us with you if you leave the shadow hunters and promise to stop your killing,’ said the woman’s voice.

  ‘Yongxi, don’t be like this, alright? If I were to leave, what would happen to my men?’

  ‘They managed fine before they had you, didn’t they? You say you love us, Jijia, but you don’t treat us with respect. You continue with your demonic behaviour – how many innocent lives will you take this year? Do you think the Buddha will forgive you? Retribution will come calling one day. I won’t have my son growing up to be like you and ending up as a criminal, imprisoned by the government.’

  ‘Can’t you be a bit less harsh, woman? They lay traps for me everywhere, but I still manage to have a good life, don’t I?’

  ‘You sneak around, here and there, day and night, more cautious than a wolf – what sort of life is that? Would you dare take your son to Lhasa even once?’

  ‘Yongxi—’

  ‘The child and I will not go with you. We don’t need your money. I have hands and feet and I can bring him up myself.’

  After a while, Gongzha heard the sound of a car rattling off into the distance.

  Jijia and Yongxi already had a child? When was it he’d last seen Yongxi? It must have been when her grandmother had passed away. He stood up and made his way down the mountain.

  As he reached the side of the tent, a knife came hurtling out at him. ‘I told you to fuck off! Don’t come and bother us again.’

  Gongzha picked up the knife and opened the thick tent flap with a smile. ‘Do you really hate him that much, Yongxi?’

  ‘Brother Gongzha!’ Yongxi got up, embarrassed, from where she’d been sitting holding her child beside the stove.

  ‘What’s this, your son’s already got so big and in all that time you couldn’t find someone to bring me a letter?’ Gongzha sat down with a smile. He drew out a red fox-skin from his chuba and handed it to her. ‘Consider this a meeting gift from this uncle to the child.’

  ‘But this is the present you’d promised Cuomu – you can’t just give it to anyone,’ Yongxi said, hurriedly setting the child down and pushing his gift away.

  ‘Well, she has no use for it now. Take it, make the child a hat.’ Gongzha laid it on a nearby cushion.

  ‘Then… thank you, Brother Gongzha.’

  Gongzha accepted the butter tea Yongxi passed him, drank a large mouthful, then raised his head to ask, ‘What’s wrong with you and Jijia?’

  ‘I told him to leave the shadow hunters, but he won’t listen. It’s not like it used to be. Before, no one cared when people killed antelopes, but the government has outlawed it now. The last time I went to the county town to shop, there were propaganda posters everywhere. It’s especially Tibetan antelopes: they’re some kind of Class 1 protected species now and you can be sentenced to death for killing even a single one, let alone the hundreds he’s been responsible for. But he won’t listen to me, no matter how much I try. He says there’s no faster way to make money, and he’s right about that – he’s even bought himself a car now. But the child and I, we worry for him every day.’

  ‘You really should try and get him to stop the slaughter. There are fewer and fewer antelopes on the grassland these days, and if he keeps killing them like this, they’ll become extinct.’

  ‘What’s it to you whether they become extinct or not?’ Jijia’s low growl suddenly sounded outside the tent. ‘What are you doing coming to my tent and stirring up my woman?’

  Gongzha immediately stood up and left the tent.

  Yongxi followed with the child.

  Jijia was standing there in the moonlight with ten or more men. They glared at Gongzha with animosity. Three white off-road vehicles were parked by the broken wall. Next to them stood a haughty-looking long-haired woman dressed in black and playing with a slingshot.

  ‘Why have you come back?’ shouted Yongxi furiously.

  ‘You’ve got it all wrong, Jijia,’ Gongzha said lightly, noting the flames of anger in his eyes.

  ‘What have I got wrong? It’s you that’s been caught visiting my woman’s tent and yet you have the gall to say that it’s me who’s in the wrong?’ Jijia was waving his arms and bellowing, as if he’d caught them in bed together. ‘I know you’re fearless, Gongzha, but in this wilderness, no one touches my woman.’

  Gongzha gave a dry laugh. ‘Yongxi and I were just talking.’

  ‘And still you persist in telling me I’m wrong! You really fucking aren’t a man of the grassland.’

  Jijia had a gun in his hand. Luckily, Gongzha dodged quickly, and the bullet hit the ground and ploughed up a line of earth instead.

  Yongxi flew into a rage. In two steps she placed herself in front of Gongzha and stood glowering at Jijia, who was preparing to fire again. ‘Jijia, if you shoot again, kill me.’

  ‘Get out of the way!’ Jijia roared, waving his small machine gun wildly. ‘You dare to throw sand on my head? That’s going too far! Comrades, keep shooting until he’s dead.’

  ‘Don’t you dare.’ Yongxi swiftly pulled a small knife from her belt, held it against her neck, and fixed Jijia with her eyes. ‘If anyone dares to open fire, I’ll kill myself.’

  ‘Yongxi!’ Jijia was shocked into sudden silence. He stamped his foot in fury and yelled, ‘You… Why are you so good to him?’

  ‘He’s my brother – he carried my grandmother up to her sky burial. You say you love me and the child, Jijia, but apart from frightening us, what have you done for us?’

  ‘I’ve told you, I can’t help myself. Can’t you… can’t you give me a little more time?’ Jijia said carefully, his voice quieter now. He didn’t dare look Yongxi in the eyes. Had this woman been sent by Buddha to torture him? Why did she hate him so much?

  ‘Haven’t I given you enough time already? It’s been three years, Jijia. The child is walking already, but still you delay. Fuck off. Don’t come here again. I don’t want the child to have a demon for a father, and I want a demon for a husband even less!’

  Seeing Yongxi’s icy expression, Jijia exploded like thunder. Brandishing his gun in fury, he yelled to his men, who were looking on in amazement, ‘Fire! Fire! I’m ordering you to fire! Kill her wild man!’

  Jijia’s men looked at one another. How could they open fire? He had to be joking. Everyone knew that this woman was their leader’s most cherished treasure. If Yongxi even so much as nicked her neck with the knife, knowing Jijia’s temper, he’d probably set about killing them all once he’d recovered himself.

  When Gongzha saw this, he whistled and his old horse trotted over. He mounted, cracked his whip and disappeared into the waves of moonlight striping the wilderness.

  The tension disappeared with Gongzha’s horse and things quieted down immediately. The woman standing by the car watched contemplatively as Gongzha’s figure vanished into the distance.

  ‘You still haven’t put down the knife!’ Jijia seemed to suddenly come to his senses. He took a few quick steps forward, grabbed Yongxi by th
e arm, forced the knife out of her hand and threw it to the ground.

  Yongxi wrenched herself free of him, kicked his leg, picked up the child and went back into the tent.

  Jijia rubbed his leg in pain but neither followed her nor moved away. He turned round and saw that his men were covering their mouths and screwing up their faces to keep from laughing. They went sombre in an instant. ‘Fuck off, all of you!’

  And with that, the men who wanted to laugh but did not dare piled happily into the cars and rolled off in a trail of smoke.

  20

  Feng stood in front of that familiar small courtyard once again, an enormous pack on her back, a welter of feelings in her heart.

  Lamu wasn’t there, but silver-haired Dawa was sitting in the sun on the veranda, looking at Feng and smiling.

  ‘Dear Ama!’ Feng walked in and went across the courtyard and up to the veranda. She put down her bag, knelt in front of Dawa and took up her bony hand. ‘I’ve come back.’

  ‘Cuomu, where’s Gongzha?’ Dawa asked as she stroked her face.

  Feng didn’t understand Tibetan, but she understood Gongzha’s name. ‘He’s gone hunting,’ she said. She looked at her watch and picked up the nearby bottle of medicine. It was the medicine she’d sent. She shook out two pills and put them in the old woman’s palm, then poured a cup of hot water and lifted it to Dawa’s mouth. ‘He’ll be back very soon. You should take your medicine, Ama. Look, the sun’s almost over the rooftop.’

  Dawa swallowed the medicine obediently.

  ‘Auntie Feng, is that you? Auntie, auntie, it really is you! Yihang called to say you were coming, but I thought he was tricking me.’ Lamu raced in like the wind, a small girl toddling behind her. She hugged Feng and smiled happily.

  Feng stood up. ‘You have a toddler already, Lamu?’

  ‘Yes. I got married the year after you came. My daughter is over a year old now.’ Lamu laughed and picked up Feng’s bag. ‘Come on, let’s go to your room. I got it ready a long time ago.’

  Feng followed Lamu, carrying her little girl in her arms.