by Bi Feiyu
Chapter Fifteen
Jin Yan and Xiao Kong, Tailai and Wang Daifu
HUMAN INTERACTIONS ARE often intriguing. As the atmosphere worsened daily, Xiao Kong and Jin Yan quietly and suddenly became best friends. Wang Daifu had heard privately from Xiao Kong that Jin Yan gave her a negative impression – there was something not quite right about that woman. Take what she wears, for example. Just look at her, how she makes noise with every step, either a tinkling or a rustling. Like she’s forever marrying herself off. You can’t get married every day, so what does that mean? That she’s a flashy woman. With that basic judgement, Xiao Kong had never liked the woman, making it clear to all that there could be no friendship between them. All the therapists could tell. She was straightforward when she talked to the others, but with Jin Yan, she put on airs. Wang had brought that up with her once. ‘What’s the point? We’re all therapists working away from home.’
‘I don’t give a damn,’ Xiao Kong had replied in her newly acquired Nanjing dialect.
Jin Yan was aware of Xiao Kong’s attitude but did not let it bother her, not because she didn’t care, but because she didn’t want to sink to Xiao Kong’s level. She had her own way of dealing with Xiao Kong – by talking to her man. Xiao Kong could not get jealous, since Jin Yan did it in front of everyone, not behind her back. Can’t you take a joke? Besides, it wasn’t as if Jin Yan had no boyfriend of her own. How did Jin Yan talk to Wang Daifu? Here’s an example: if they were especially busy, Wang might say to his client, ‘I’m sorry, I really can’t hold it any longer. I need to use the toilet.’
When Jin Yan heard that, she’d say thoughtfully, ‘Go on, Old Wang. It’s not a valuable necklace, something you have to keep with you forever.’
Xiao Kong knew she’d never win a battle with Jin Yan, so she adopted a certain attitude when dealing with her. Jin Yan knew that Xiao Kong disliked her for no apparent reason, and nothing she did could change that, so why try? As long as she got along with Wang Daifu she was okay.
And yet, the two became best friends. Women are like that; if they have a problem with each other, once it’s solved they can become best friends. They could then be on such intimate terms that they would happily cut off their head to put it on the other person’s neck. That’s how it was with Xiao Kong and Jin Yan. Once they linked up, they often looked as if they could exchange heads onto each other’s shoulders. They poured out their hearts to one another the day long, even ignoring their own men. They spent every free moment whispering back and forth, as if they were the only two people on earth.
The cause of their sudden friendship was a particular work assignment. Du Li had assigned them to a double room for a pair of male clients, a boss and his driver. The boss had been drinking, the driver hadn’t. Du Li had called Xiao Kong’s name when making the arrangement, so she was saddled with the boss; Jin Yan was given the driver.
Xiao Kong did not like alcohol, especially the smell, so she sighed softly when the clients lay down. Sighing is a bit of an exaggeration. She just breathed a little more heavily than usual. Jin Yan walked up to her and, without a word, took over her client. It was a totally unexpected move, but Xiao Kong was grateful. How did Jin Yan know she did not like the smell of alcohol? She must have heard it from Wang Daifu. To Xiao Kong, the woman was quite something. Even after the way she had treated her, she continued to chat with Wang Daifu, even sharing a few private thoughts.
The smell of alcohol had bothered Xiao Kong since childhood. In her earliest memories, her father always stank of alcohol. After she was blinded at the age of two, her father, a teacher in the northern Anhui countryside, frequently stumbled his way home after drinking too much, reeking of alcohol. His arrival at home was the beginning of Xiao Kong’s misery. He’d put his daughter on his lap and tell her to open her eyes. Her eyes were open, always, but she could not see, which would send him into a drunken rage. ‘Open your eyes!’ he’d demand, over and over. She tried, but didn’t understand what it meant to ‘open’ her eyes. Intending to open his poor daughter’s eyes with his savage fingers, he’d pull at her upper lids so hard it felt more like he was tearing them off. But it did no good. Then he’d begin to beat her. What could the girl’s mother do except try to shield her daughter with her own body? What terrified Xiao Kong most was not the beating, but what happened the following morning, when her father sobered up and saw the bruises. He would begin to cry, in the most heart-wrenching, self-abandoned way. Putting his arms around his beloved daughter, he would howl and wail, turning their home into hell on earth. Her mother, not wanting her to grow up fatherless, put up with him until Xiao Kong was six, when she asked for a divorce. He refused. Her mother said she would stay married to him if he accepted her non-negotiable demand that, for their daughter’s sake, he would not drink again for the rest of his life. He remained silent all afternoon before he finally agreed. ‘All right,’ he’d said, and with that, he quit drinking and never again lay a finger on his daughter. To prove his devotion to her, he even went secretly to the hospital for a vasectomy operation.
Once she had grown up, Xiao Kong began to understand her father and his unbearable love for her – intense, extreme, distorted, pathological, filled with self-sacrifice and touchingly tragic. He loved her dearly, and that love, she finally realised, motivated her to keep improving herself. Yet her fear of the smell of alcohol never completely vanished; it was like a branding iron that produced an acrid burning smell in her memory.
Naturally, Jin Yan didn’t know any of this. And she didn’t ask. What was there to ask about? Maybe she thought any questions were unnecessary, since all blind people have their own taboos and each one is loaded with burns that no one would wish to look at.
In any case, Jin Yan’s casual move softened Xiao Kong’s attitude. Maybe this woman isn’t so bad, after all. Maybe this is what she’s really like. She was, to Xiao Kong, a ‘character’, but there was warmth deep down.
One stormy day, when business was slow, Jin Yan and Xiao Kong went into a massage room, shunning the lounge, a place no one wanted to be these days. Sha Fuming and Zhang Zongqi were like opposing magnets, and all anyone could feel was the force each exerted, with nothing in between. They would continue to ‘bounce off ’ each other, unless and until one was willing to back down.
With no paying clients, Jin Yan and Xiao Kong decided to give each other a massage. Not tuina in the strictest sense, it was ‘I’ll serve you first’ and ‘you can serve me later’. Sounded interesting, and lots of fun. They settled on belly fat reduction, which, in terms of physics, with powerful rubbing, kneading, pressing, pushing and pinching, raised the temperature of the belly and burned enough fat to reach the grand goal of body sculpting. Belly fat reduction, it must be pointed out, means extreme pain. Just think, there is a concentration of ultra-sensitive meridian points on the belly, which is extra-skeletal to begin with, and the skin on a woman’s belly is extraordinarily tender. When a tuina therapist grabs hold and begins to knead and pinch, it feels as if the skin is on fire. Yet the pain did not deter their female clients; in fact, it was a service in high demand. What did that mean? It meant that Chinese women were caring more and more about themselves. Without a nice flat belly, their fancy clothes would be wasted, no matter how fine the fabric quality or how trendy the style. A flat belly has an added charm factor, an ultra-secret value that makes itself known in bed and builds the foundation of great sex. Hence, the belly plays too critical a role to worry about a little pain; being a woman means to endure pain anyway.
Neither Jin Yan nor Xiao Kong was fat, but they were both women in love – and what woman in love is happy with the way her belly looks? None. No, she cannot be happy. The reason is not hard to spot. She is thinking back to what she looked like at sixteen or seventeen. It wasn’t like this before. All women in love share the basic belief that they looked better when they were younger, a time that their current boyfriends missed. Only through painstaking work can they return to what they were before. They can ne
ver forgive their current bellies.
Xiao Kong’s hands were small but powerful, and Jin Yan soon found the pressure too much. Xiao Kong was using more force than usual, to be playful. I had to endure the pain under your fingers, so now it’s your turn to have a taste of my strength. Finally Jin Yan could not take it any longer. ‘You little tramp!’ she blurted out.
‘Little tramp’ is a special term suggesting the flighty and intimate nature of friendship between girls, like biting someone you like. Two women can be each other’s tramp only when their relationship has reached a certain stage; that is, you cannot become a tramp with just anyone. You called me a tramp? Very well then. Without a word, Xiao Kong grabbed a handful of Jin Yan’s belly and held it firmly. ‘Say it again,’ she said happily.
Not used to losing an argument, Jin Yan said it again. ‘Little tramp.’
‘Again.’ Xiao Kong tightened her grip so much that Jin Yan’s mouth, already open from the pain, stretched even wider, reaching its limit. She began sucking in air and begging for forgiveness.
‘I won’t say it again, Miss. Please let go and I’ll be your maid.’
Xiao Kong slowly released her grip; it would have caused even greater pain if she’d done that too fast, as she knew from experience; it was a different kind of torture. ‘That’ll do it.’ Finally she let go and laid her hands on Jin Yan’s belly, alternating between gentle massaging and light slapping, a necessary step. Jin Yan had a washboard belly, flat and well defined like a tiled floor, much better than her own, and she liked it a great deal.
She began to caress and gently tug at the skin again while pressing her lips against Jin Yan’s ear to whisper conspiratorially, ‘Such a nice, sexy belly. Tailai must love it. Tell me, have you done you-know-what with him?’
Jin Yan seemed to have anticipated Xiao Kong’s question. She had never done it with Tailai. Never. She stretched out her legs and said assertively, ‘No. We’ve been able to hold off.’
The response seemed loaded, fraught with insinuation. Xiao Kong was suddenly abashed, and, with nothing better to say, gripped Jin Yan’s belly again.
‘Yes or no? Tell me.’
The pain made Jin Yan whip her legs into the air, looking more suggestive than ever.
‘You’re forcing me into a false confession,’ she said, panting from the pain.
‘Yes or no? Why did you stick your legs up like that?’
Jin Yan was momentarily puzzled before bursting out laughing. ‘How would I know about that? You’re the one who’s shown her card.’
‘You really haven’t done it?’
‘No, honest.’
‘Why not?’ Xiao Kong demanded unreasonably, as if she were shamed into anger.
‘Why not? What kind of question is that?’ Jin Yan turned serious. ‘I want to save that for my wedding night.’
Now Xiao Kong believed her, and, as she lost herself in her own thoughts, her hands began to roam all over Jin Yan’s belly. For women, the topic of ‘you-know-what’ is always important, and when it comes up in conversation between two women, it causes a major shift in their relationship, elevating it to the level of confidantes who can then talk about anything and everything.
The downpour continued outside, creating a constant pitter-patter on the sliding sash window. The room was plunged into silence as the two young women stopped fooling around; a warm, cosy silence, like the room was lit up by a muted, diffuse overhead light. But in fact it was dark, and because of that the room didn’t exactly feel cosy, more like sad. After revealing their most intimate secrets, Xiao Kong and Jin Yan went quiet, perhaps startled into silence by the abrupt mention of ‘wedding’, each now lost in their own thoughts. Wedding, marriage. No one could know what it felt like before reaching that point. They had both been vexed by the notion of marriage; being in love is sweet, but it can also bring pain. Who knew what would happen the next day? The tuina centre seemed to be in crisis, so who could tell if there might be major changes, and when those happened, no one would know what to do. Even the heavens would not know.
Xiao Kong was distressed after hearing Jin Yan say, ‘I want to save that for my wedding night.’ Xiao Kong knew she’d never be able to say that. She had gone all the way, and there was nothing to hold off. She felt bad, though not remorseful. She did not regret going all the way with Wang Daifu; what troubled her was how Jin Yan seemed so sure of her marriage to Tailai, which was why she could save the you-know-what for her wedding night. Jin Yan knew it would happen, and that was Xiao Kong’s sore spot. She was not particular about her wedding; she didn’t mind if it was not well done or was shabby. But her parents must be present, and they had to at least have a meal together, before her father would solemnly give her hand to his son-in-law. Now that her parents would disapprove of the marriage, what would her wedding look like? It was obvious she would have to do it behind their backs, like a thief, sneaking off to get married. What did it all mean? It meant she owed her parents an even greater debt. And there was something else: as a woman, she would have liked the man to be the one pressing for marriage; better yet, she wanted him to beg for her hand in marriage. Love is one thing, and how a woman feels is something else. In Xiao Kong’s case, it felt as if she were begging him to marry her and she had ended up with a scold.‘What’s the hurry?’ That question had stripped her of her self-esteem, and so, in comparison, Jin Yan was so much happier, so much luckier, which made Xiao Kong’s heart ache, and made her jealous. Her hands stopped moving; she felt like crying. She did, she began to cry, sending a teardrop down onto Jin Yan’s belly.
In reaction to the sudden drop of water, Jin Yan stretched her hand out, but nothing more came, and that told her that it had been Kong’s teardrop. She sat up to take the girl’s hands, but Xiao Kong pulled them back.
‘When you get married, Yanzi,’ Xiao Kong said, ‘you must let me know, no matter how far apart we are. I want to attend your wedding.’ Jin Yan had no response. Wedding? she mouthed the word. She had no idea when that would be.
She had always been dominant in her relationship with Tailai, and dominant types share the common trait that when they make plans they tend to base everything on wishful thinking. That is, they usually believe that their ideas mirror those of others and so they do not have to take other people into consideration. Jin Yan had been quietly pondering her wedding for some time and had not discussed it with Tailai. One thing she didn’t know was that long before Tailai left home to work, he and his parents had reached an agreement that they would not have a wedding ceremony for him. The reason was simple: Tailai would likely marry another blind person, and it would not look respectful or good to have two sightless people marrying in the village. People might even laugh at them. Tailai’s father had been quite blunt: they would spare no expense, give him whatever he wanted, but no ceremony. He did not object, for that was what he wanted all along. Having grown up amid people’s mockery and ridicule, Tailai knew he had no friends in the village. Everyone looked down on him, and that included his own little sister. Money was so much better; he would get fifty or sixty thousand at least and possibly seventy or eighty. It would be so much more practical to have money in hand without having to go through a demeaning process. A tangibly profitable transaction.
And this was how he described their wedding to Jin Yan. ‘In my mind, our kiss was our wedding. I want to spend every penny on you, not throw it away on a wedding for others to see.’
It was a touching and emotional confession, meticulous in its telling, the sort of talk she liked, for it was sincere, straightforward and resolute, showing his total devotion and utmost loyalty to their love. It was, quite simply, romantic. But it was also anti-wedding; she was moved and yet she felt like crying.
‘You’ll have to wait.’
Jin Yan took Xiao Kong’s hand to play with the fingers dolefully, having learned that Xiao Kong wanted to attend her wedding. ‘Even I don’t know when that will be.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Tai
lai doesn’t want a wedding.’
Xiao Kong said nothing. As a blind woman, she knew what was on Tailai’s mind and she understood why. ‘What about you?’
‘Me?’ Jin Yan said. ‘I’ll wait.’
‘Till when?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I’m happy to wait, till I’m thirty, or forty.’ Resting her forehead against Xiao Kong’s, she continued, ‘I’m a woman.’ She added in a low voice, ‘How can a woman not have a wedding?’
Xiao Kong detected a stubborn edge to Jin Yan’s voice, its softness belying the determination that she would not stop until she reached her goal.
As a woman, she understood Jin Yan’s thoughts perfectly. Draping her arm over the other woman’s shoulders, she said, ‘I know.’
‘You have it so much better,’ Jin Yan said. ‘You and Wang Daifu are so happy together. You’ll get married before we do. You have to let me know when you’re getting married. I want to attend your wedding and sing for you. I’ll sing all the songs I know.’
That friendly comment virtually forced Xiao Kong to open up. She could not be a real friend if she kept it to herself. ‘I don’t know when that will be either.’ It was exactly what Jin Yan had said a moment ago and she was now hearing it again.
‘Why?’ It was Jin Yan’s turn to be surprised.
‘My parents disapprove of our relationship.’
‘Why?’
‘They won’t let me marry a blind man.’
So that’s it. That’s what’s going on. Ai! Then there’s no one worth envying.
‘They let me do anything I want except for that,’ Xiao Kong continued. ‘They’re worried about me. They’ve devoted their whole life to me. I more or less eloped to Nanjing.’ She took out her Shenzhen phone. ‘I use two phones. I keep telling them I’m in Shenzhen.’