by Sheng Keyi
VI
Xiaohong got up early, washed her face, put on a bit of makeup and headed into the town. She passed a group of men and women, labourers sporting identical blue uniforms with red letters emblazoned across the shirt pocket, looking like a brigade of committed revolutionaries. Each of them chewed on a bit of a steamed or fried bun, or a biscuit. Like tides, they moved in steady waves through the iron gates of the factory and disappeared. Xiaohong rattled the gate, peering inside.
‘Who you looking for?’ the security guard asked sternly. He was very smartly dressed.
‘Huh? Oh, I’m not looking for anyone. But, um, do you know if they’re hiring here?’
‘How old are you?’
‘Seventeen.’
‘Where you from?’
‘Hunan.’
‘How long you been here?’
‘A while.’
‘Where you staying?’
‘With a friend from back home.’
‘What can you do?’
‘Anything anyone else can.’
‘We aren’t hiring.’
‘Not hiring? Then what’re you asking so many questions for?’ Xiaohong was on fire. She had answered everything honestly and all the while this security guard was just toying with her. She had almost spilled everything about what had happened the previous evening. She felt like forgetting all about temporary residence cards and laying into this git, and letting the police just come and pick her up there and then. Instead, she checked her temper and glared at the guard, shooting daggers at him from beneath her eyebrows. Her meaning was clear enough: ‘You just wait and see.’
The guard was suddenly stricken with fear. What if this girl was in league with some local gang? The boss went to great lengths to avoid trouble. He tried to placate Xiaohong. Tittering, he asked, ‘You really just got here?’
Xiaohong closed her eyes for a couple of seconds. When she opened them, she continued to glare at the guard, but it wasn’t clear whether it was a look of blame or contempt. It was like she was peering through the dark, searching for some intelligence in his words.
‘Come on, sweetheart, don’t be mad. I’m just a working stiff myself. If the boss catches me talking to you too long, I’ll be sacked. Why don’t you head over to Fu’an county? They’re hiring at the Lucky Duck Handbag Factory, or so I hear from some friends from my hometown. It’s just a few miles away. There’s a direct bus from here.’ The security guard pointed to the bus stop. When she looked in the direction he pointed, Xiaohong realised it was the same spot where the bus had dropped them off a few days before.
As she left, she turned back to offer the guard a nod and a smile, but he didn’t seem to notice.
It was sunny. A hand selling tickets hung out of the bus window near the rear door, thumping against the side of the vehicle. When she had boarded, the bus, adapting to the slow pace of traffic, puttered along for a while before turning onto a wider avenue where it finally picked up a little speed. Xiaohong, uncertain exactly how long she had been sitting on the bus, watched as passengers got on and off. The driver had an unsteady foot on the accelerator, making Xiaohong feel like her insides were rolling about. She hadn’t had anything for breakfast, and the previous night’s feasting and drinking had long since been digested amidst the roar of the karaoke session. She dry-heaved and the taste of bile filled her mouth. She gave a little belch. The other passengers sat looking at the passing scenery, dozing or smoking. The bus clanked along, burning diesel and releasing black smoke on either side as it went.
‘Fu’an county stop,’ called the ticket collector.
Xiaohong’s face had turned an odd shade of green by the time the bus stopped.
‘This is Shenzhen?’
‘Course it is.’
Xiaohong wasn’t quite ready to get off.
‘You’ll have to buy another ticket if you want to continue your journey.’
‘How much?’
‘Two kuai.’
‘What?’
‘Two kuai. Two yuan,’ said the ticket collector, switching to more formal language and holding up two fingers. Xiaohong dug out the money.
After a short distance, the ticket collector announced, ‘Check point. Everyone off. The bus will wait for you over there.’
‘Check point? What’re they checking?’ Xiaohong was confused again.
‘You gotta have a border permit to go into Shenzhen. You got yours?’
Xiaohong shook her head blankly.
‘If you don’t have a border permit, you’ll have to get off the bus and go back.’ With that, the ticket collector snapped the door shut and as soon as she had stepped off, the bus began inching its way into the lane marked Buses Only.
‘Shit!’ Xiaohong looked towards Shenzhen, turned on her heel and made her way back.
Stopping to ask for directions along the way, Xiaohong became more confused. Finding the Lucky Duck Handbag Factory was like finding a prostate problem or syphilis lurking in an otherwise healthy population – always there, but hard to locate. Reading the advertisements posted all over the telephone poles and signs along the roadside, she began to feel that the world was a chaotic place, and wondered if there was any disease that could not be found here.
‘Where you going, Miss?’ A motorcyclist, face shielded by a black helmet, pulled up in front of Xiaohong.
‘The Lucky Duck Handbag Factory. You know it?’
‘Oh, of course, I know where that is. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.’ Xiaohong, feeling like an ant that had dropped inside a kettle with no obvious way out, was so relieved she nearly cried when she heard his words. The motorcycle turned here and there, manoeuvring through the streets at a dizzying pace.
‘Here we are.’
‘Thank you. Thank you so much,’ she said, turning to leave.
‘Hey! You haven’t paid yet!’ the man’s face was stern.
‘Huh? I need to pay?’
‘Of course! Ten kuai.’
‘What? Ten yuan? That’s daylight robbery!’
‘That’s the standard price. Hurry up about it. Unless you wanna find a spot for some wave-action. I could overlook ten kuai then.’ The reckless motorcyclist cast a meaningful look at Xiaohong’s full breasts.
‘Son of a bitch! You thief! Why did I even bother to get up so early today, just to put up with this?’ In her anger, she reverted back to her hometown dialect, allowing her to add a little salt to her cursing. All the same, she dug out the money, then turned angrily to the gate of the Lucky Duck Handbag Factory. The iron gate was surrounded by hundreds of people, row upon row of them. The sea of black heads shimmered before Xiaohong’s eyes.
‘They hiring?’
‘Yep.’
‘Heard they only want thirty people.’
‘Huh?’
‘Now, we’re all just queuing up for the privilege of filling in the application.’
‘Then what?’
‘Then we wait till we hear from them.’
Xiaohong whiled away her time chatting to those around her.
When it came to lunchtime, no one budged. Xiaohong, not daring to vacate her place in the queue, waited until the sun was nearing the horizon. Only then was she invited to part with another two yuan for the right to fill in applications for herself and Sijiang, choosing a random date to use as her friend’s birthday on the form. The results would be announced in a week. In seven days, applicants should come to the factory gate to receive the news. You’d think they were applying for the CEO’s post, she thought.
By the time she got back to Li Mazi’s quarters, it was dark. The window in the little shack was lit, making a pitiful sight. It seemed to stand in lament for the loss of something that fell just outside the reach of its glow – perhaps the dampened hopes of the two girls, who had relied on Li Mazi’s good manners in suppressing any natural urges. How many days had he spent with Sijiang before moving in on her? And her a virgin! The hymen – that insignificant piece of flesh – what did it matter? And all alo
ng Li Mazi, the prick, was just waiting to poke through that little membrane. What was it about that tiny piece of flesh that made all the men so greedy for it? Xiaohong thought of that cheap bastard Li Mazi getting his hands on Sijiang’s ‘lifeline’ and felt a surge of hatred on her friend’s behalf.
VII
Sijiang was not in the shack. Li Mazi leaned against the bed in a daze, dark rings beneath his eyes, making him look like one of those great national treasures, the panda. Clearly the previous night’s activity had taken its toll on him. Upon seeing Xiaohong enter the room, he rolled his eyes until the whites were visible, rubbing his face and brushing his clothes in an attempt to tidy up his appearance.
‘Sijiang? She go out for a walk? Come on, there’s no need to be so secretive!’ Xiaohong asked hastily, not even attempting to hide her contempt.
‘She… she went to see Mr Zhuang,’ he answered haltingly.
‘What the hell does that old goat want with her? Aren’t you worried?’ Xiaohong thought he was just trying to cover his embarrassment over what had happened the night before.
‘What’ve I got to worry about? Sijiang’s business has got nothing to do with me,’ Li Mazi drawled.
‘What the hell? Nothing to do with you? Didn’t you have a go at her last night? What sort of an inhumane beast are you?’
‘If I were inhumane, I’d have done her from the start! Sleeping here with two half-dressed girls, I’d have to be mad not to be tempted! But don’t worry – I didn’t even try to get inside her pants. Just ask Sijiang.’
‘Oh!’ It suddenly began to dawn on Xiaohong. ‘You mean you were just trying to help, you know… initiate her?’
‘Xiaohong, if you keep on like this, you’re going to drive me crazy. Say whatever you want. Oh, I’ll freely admit that I spent the whole night fantasising about the pair of you. I’m not a very educated man, though I at least tried to act like a gentleman. But come on…’
Xiaohong sighed, ‘I never meant to bring you this kind of trouble.’
‘I blame myself. But be honest, with a living guy lying beside you, didn’t your mind begin to wander just a little?’
Xiaohong, laughing unconvincingly, replied, ‘I guess you’d best ask Sijiang. She was the one sleeping closer to you.’
‘If you don’t have anything to say, there’s certainly no point asking her,’ Li Mazi said, in frustration.
‘What you two talking about?’ Sijiang’s voice entered the room first, and she shuffled in behind it.
Li Mazi picked up his magazine and rummaged through its pages, as if in a trance. Xiaohong giggled.
‘Where in the world did you go?’
Sijiang reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of green cards.
‘What’s that? Temporary residence cards?’ Xiaohong scanned the bronze lettering a couple of times. The third time, her eyes suddenly grew rounder, nearly popping out of her head.
‘Um…’ Sijiang hesitated, her fresh-as-an-apple face serene, like an infant putting on her socks for the first time. The task accomplished, she had a new-found confidence and her eyes looked just a little less lost. Li Mazi took the documents and read over them with a wooden expression before handing them back to Sijiang.
‘Mr Zhuang did it for you?’ Xiaohong hoped she was wrong.
‘I went to Mr Zhuang, and he took me to see the mayor. The mayor’s the one who got it done.’
‘Done? The mayor got things done? Sijiang, you… you…. What have you done?’ A fire leapt into Xiaohong’s eyes. ‘Why didn’t you talk to me about it first? Didn’t we always say we’d find a way?’
‘Honghong, I saw a lot of people get picked up on the streets today. What’s virginity anyway? I don’t feel I’ve lost anything at all. And from tomorrow on, we’re both free.’
Xiaohong couldn’t quite see the link between ‘virginity’ and ‘freedom’. She had a vague feeling that it was a paradox, but then, the results were undeniable. Virginity seems to be of tremendous significance to everything except ‘true love’, she thought.
At night, noisy, boisterous laughter filled the neighbourhood. Inside the shack, there was only the sound of three people breathing, each silently pondering the loss of Sijiang’s virginity. Xiaohong was filled with regret, Li Mazi with remorse. Only Sijiang showed nothing. Li Mazi’s sorrow seemed to reach another, more personal level, as if he couldn’t help wondering how satisfying it must have been to break Sijiang’s hymen – though he realised, of course, that the pleasure of it was nothing compared to the value of a temporary residence card. Xiaohong regretted that it had come down to Sijiang selling her virginity.
Light from the bare bulb lit Sijiang’s bowed head, shining on the bit of white scalp where her hair parted, her face hidden from view. Tears dropped onto her leather shoe, washing away the grey dust and exposing a patch of black. She pulled her foot closer to her body, leaving the tears to drop silently onto the floor. She shifted her hips from time to time, trying to find a comfortable position. Xiaohong, understanding Sijiang’s discomfort, got up and carried the red plastic bucket out to get some water, her chest thrust proudly forward, held even higher than usual. Her slippers beat a furious path along the concrete away from the room, then slapped their way back, accompanied by the slosh of water in the pail. Li Mazi said, ‘Want to boil it?’ Xiaohong exhaled heavily. He took out a gadget, dropped the brass coil into the water, and plugged the other end into the wall socket. Tiny bubbles started to rise from the coil.
‘Sijiang, wait for the water to heat up then you can bathe. If it’s not enough, we’ll boil more.’
‘One bucket definitely won’t be enough. I’ll go and get some more and bring it right back.’ Upon saying this, Li Mazi left, his footsteps sounding like he had been walking for days on end.
‘Um, Sijiang, when you did it, did he use protection?’ Xiaohong moved in close to Sijiang and sat down with her beneath the bare bulb, the shadows of their heads resting side by side on the floor.
‘What protection? How the hell would I know?’
‘What I mean is, a condom, you know?’
Sijiang shook her head, looking at the shadow on the ground.
‘OK. Well, when was the last time you had your period?’
‘It’s been eight or nine days, I guess.’
‘Bad timing. Didn’t that pig at least ask?’
‘No. What’s so bad about the timing?’ Sijiang was getting anxious, her red eyes opening wide.
‘Think about how pigs breed. Once the sow’s in season, next thing you know her belly’s full of little piglets.’
‘Huh?’ Sijiang straightened up, her hand searching her torso, feeling first her liver, then her stomach, as if afraid she had a litter of piglets inside her.
‘Don’t worry. That old fellow’s probably shooting blanks anyway. Don’t fret. What’s done is done.’
‘Yeah,’ Sijiang answered, though her mind was obviously weighed down by it all. ‘Here, let me return this to you. He gave me three thousand yuan.’ Sijiang opened the inner pocket of her jacket and pulled out a wad of notes. Peeling off a couple, she handed them to Xiaohong.
‘I’ve got money. You hang onto that,’ Xiaohong said, pushing it away.
‘What the hell, Xiaohong? You think it’s dirty?’
‘Dirty? No, that’s got to be the tidiest money I’ve ever seen.’
‘Then why won’t you take it?’
‘I told you. I have money. If I run out, then I’ll ask you for it.’
‘Alright. Honghong, I want to make some money, learn hairdressing and open my own salon. I don’t want to be a shampoo girl. Or, how about we go in together? We could open the grandest salon in the city!’ Sijiang tucked the money back into her pocket.
‘Sounds great! Then we’d be our own bosses. We could hire a few shampoo girls. And no matter what we did, no one would dare mess with us then!’
They talked on, giggling, their heads leaning close together. Li Mazi came into the room, water in hand, and loo
ked blankly at the scene. Sijiang clammed up as soon as he entered, casting a glance in his direction. Xiaohong got up and, grabbing another pail, put on her slippers and went down the corridor.
VIII
It was afternoon, and Xiaohong was alone in the shack poring over Li Mazi’s frayed magazine, a cheap pirated copy, the cover of which displayed a seductive woman. Li Mazi was nearly thirty. If he needed to rely on these things for consolation, who was she to stop him? Actually, he was to be pitied. Whenever he went back to his hometown, he seemed to be such a big shot, everyone envying his success, but who knew whether his life was really all that comfortable? Perhaps if he had stayed put, he’d have a wife and kids and wouldn’t have to depend on these cover girls for company. As Xiaohong was pondering this, Mr Zhuang came in.
‘Ah Hong, what you doing here all alone?’
Xiaohong, her mind spinning with the effort of deciphering his heavily-accented speech, said, ‘Mr Zhuang! Have a seat.’ He plopped his posterior onto the bed, right up against her.
‘Li Mazi and Sijiang popped out to buy a few things. They should be back any minute.’ She just wanted to prevent him from trying to get too friendly. In fact, the pair had just stepped out.
‘Are you settling in OK, Ah Hong? Anything I can do? So young and so far away from home, it can’t be easy,’ he said mildly.
‘I’m very appreciative, Mr Zhuang. We’ve troubled you for several days already. We’ll leave as soon as we can,’ she said, sparks flying in her mind like a freshly struck match.
‘You misunderstand me, Ah Hong. I didn’t mean that at all,’ he said with a wink and an air of deception. He bumped his hip against her, a gesture loaded with obvious meaning.
She understood well enough, thinking, This forty- or fifty-year-old man is here trying to trick a little girl. If he knew I could see right through him, he’d be humiliated. But Li Mazi still works here and, after all, when we needed a place to stay, he did help us. Pretending not to know what Mr Zhuang was up to and making no attempt to avoid him, she said, ‘Mr Zhuang, you really are a good man.’