Northern Girls: Life Goes On

by Sheng Keyi

‘Fifteen.’

  ‘How long since your last period?’

  ‘Two and a half months.’

  ‘Huh? That’s the problem. Not enough knowledge of family planning.’ Dr Chen shook her head again.

  After the results of the biopsy, the doctors, who had been impassive before, were suddenly stirred up and propelled into action. ‘My God! Lin Zhongyue has a venereal disease. There’s severe inflammation. It’s not possible to do the procedure now.’

  When Xiaohong told Ah Yue, the girl took the news stiffly, calm as a forest.

  ‘You know what STDs are, don’t you?’ Xiaohong asked in surprise.

  ‘I know. I’ve known for a long time.’ Ah Yue smiled, showing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

  ‘You aren’t a bit scared? Not worried?’

  ‘I’m scared and worried. I nearly jumped just now, you know. Your hospital said they’d treat me, so what’s there to be scared of now? It’s not like it’s AIDS.’ Ah Yue displayed a rare sophistication.

  ‘How long have you worked in the salon?’

  ‘Four and a half months.’

  ‘You take in customers every day?’

  ‘Pretty much. The money goes to the boss. I get about twenty kuai each time. When the boss found out I was pregnant and that I had an STD, he sacked me.’

  ‘Go and report him!’ Xiaohong encouraged her angrily.

  ‘No point. There are still several girls there and if they get picked up, it’ll be bad news for them. They all need to make some money.’

  Xiaohong had no response, but a bitter feeling inside made her heart want to burst.

  After this, Xiaohong, on a sudden impulse, wrote an article about the helping hand the women and children’s hospital had extended to a working girl, Lin Zhongyue. She asked Mr Liao to edit it and then sent it to a local paper for publication. She had no real expectations when she did so, not thinking much of the attitude or the ethics of the corrupt doctors in this hospital. But where she had expected indifference, instead she got a red envelope with a little token of appreciation. The article became a hot topic and, as Mr Liao put it, it greatly improved the reputation of the women and children’s hospital. The chairman convened a special meeting of the hospital’s board and recommended that Xiaohong be transferred to the publicity and PR department. As a result of the situation with Ah Yue, within six months of working at the hospital, Xiaohong’s prospects took a significant turn for the better.

  Ah Yue was taking a daily dose of medication. Never had anyone seemed to find medicine so appetising. Of course, the other way of looking at it was that she was eager to take care of her disease as soon as possible. The hospital’s cafeteria food also seemed to suit her tastes just fine, and she ate at least as much as the young male doctors.

  At first, the hospital arranged a bed for her, with the intent of handling her family planning needs within a few days. The problem was, many women flocked to the hospital and even the corridors were filled with beds for the patients. When the situation got that bad, Xiaohong offered to let Ah Yue stay with her, hoping to alleviate some of the stress on the hospital. For this, she also received the chairman’s commendation, making her a rising star in the hospital, second only to Ah Yue in fame.

  Oral, topical and injected medications were all used to treat Ah Yue’s venereal disease, taking a multi-pronged approach. After two weeks, the doctors performed an abortion on the three-month-old foetus in her belly. Just to be sure there were no mistakes, they had assigned the famous Dr Lei Yigang, an obstetrics and gynaecology surgeon who had been wielding the scalpel for more than a decade, as the lead doctor on the case.

  The hospital gave Xiaohong three days off especially to take care of Ah Yue and the doctors also took extra care to visit the patient, doing everything humanly possible to express their sympathy. When Mr Liao came and put a thousand yuan into Ah Yue’s hand, the girl was so touched she started crying all over again, even as she laughed. She seemed to have a renewed confidence in life.

  ‘Ah Yue, when you’ve fully recovered and you leave this place, don’t go back to the salon! Go and study. Plant some seeds and let them grow.’ Xiaohong saw that Ah Yue’s body was recovering quickly and her spirits were lifted and she wanted to encourage her.

  ‘When I got out, I got out. What the hell would I go back there for? And study? I don’t have the money. My mum always said studying isn’t any use. Better to keep the money you got in your hand than spend it on studying.’ Ah Yue faced the mirror, flipping her hair up and down against her forehead, as if she didn’t quite know what to do with that lock of blond hair.

  ‘Then what do you plan to do? The hospital spent a lot of money, gave you a lot of treatment. It’s only fair you do your part now!’ She hadn’t been there all that long, but Ah Yue was already taking so much of the room and board that there was hardly anything left for Xiaohong.

  ‘I won’t forget all of you. Tomorrow, I’ll go. I’ll go back to my hometown and do whatever the hell kind of work I can find.’ Ah Yue seemed to be full of confidence about the future.

  The next day when Xiaohong got home from work, she found that Ah Yue had left without a word of goodbye. Her room had been cleaned out by the girl. All her nicest clothes and shoes, her digital camera and the hundred or so Hong Kong dollars she’d stashed in a drawer had all gone missing with Ah Yue. She had helped a fellow villager, only to be stabbed in the back. She wanted to fiercely curse the little bitch, but she couldn’t bear to let out the stream of abuse that was welling up in her. This fifteen-year-old little girl speaking her dialect – she really didn’t have that sort of rage to direct at a child. She just felt heavy. She exhaled deeply, looked out the window towards the centre of town and thought of her own barren hometown. And she was sad.

  II

  Every time she went in or out of the hotel, Sijiang would turn and look at the giant golden letters on the sign reading Qianshan Hotel. It had become as habitual as making her bed each morning. Sometimes feeling settled and sometimes feeling a void inside her similar to sexual desire, her mood swung back and forth and was nearly impossible to handle day after day. She had lost some weight, suddenly showing people that she had a good figure as she walked along the road. Her tiny ever-virginal eyes gradually took on the look of someone with a naive, weak temperament.

  On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays she went for her classes at the youth centre, and she’d begun to attract the eye of a young man. She was not like Xiaohong. Anyone who wanted to gain Sijiang’s affection had to go about it with a patient sincerity. So the bespectacled boy, Wu Chengjun, spent about half a year working on her before he finally heard outright laughter from Sijiang. Specs, as Sijiang liked to call him, was from Jiangxi, and had graduated from a teacher training school, after which he had taught in a primary school for two years. Now he was working for an insurance company and studying for a diploma in his spare time. It was at his training classes that he had come across Sijiang. She observed Specs for a long time. Ever since the incident with Bud Kun, she had been wary, practically resorting to an old style self-criticism full of revolutionary zeal.

  But this was love. Wu Chengjun and his specs had a certain power. Sijiang was often uncertain whether it was a reflection from his lenses or an actual sparkle in his eyes, but it left her constantly dazzled. Love had unwittingly hit her without warning like a bout of the flu. She didn’t even know when it had happened or from whence the infection had crept up on her. After Xiaohong had left the Qianshan Hotel, Sijiang got a new partner and that was the only real change in her. Specs had never met Xiaohong and only knew of her existence from the constant mentioning of her name by Sijiang. It left Specs with some high expectations.

  The Qianshan Park was serene at night, its path lit by lamps about a foot tall, illuminating the gravel beneath their feet. The moon was a round, lonely figure but the park was not quiet. Sijiang, holding on to Specs’s right arm, walked over half of the grounds, and still they had not found a suitable spot, the ideal place to s
it kissing and cuddling. Other couples must have come earlier, marking off their plots, each three paces from the other so as not to interfere in one another’s business.

  Despite the cover of darkness and the skill of the kissing couples in controlling the sound of their activity, the ears of the lovers were extremely sensitive. Specs and Sijiang had heard enough to set their blood bubbling, even picking up the groans from an especially thick patch of bushes. Specs was reaching a state of urgency and the sounds of the night were doing nothing to ease the situation. Practically gasping, he said, ‘Would that empty spot by the pond do?’

  ‘Alright. It’s like the later it gets, the more people there are.’ Sijiang’s voice was as low as the buzz of a mosquito and soft as a blanket. The ground wasn’t very even, so he shifted a little, and finally she sat down in the space between his legs, settling herself against his most vital parts. Having wandered amidst the sound of embracing, kissing and love-making, Specs and Sijiang had no problem entering the flow of the action in the park. But no sooner had they engaged in their first kiss than they were accosted by a low voice.

  ‘Don’t make a sound. Take out your wallet. Hurry up!’

  When they fell apart, shocked, the first thing they saw was the flash of a dagger in a short man’s hand. He moved in closer, ready to stab them at the slightest provocation. Specs quickly determined that the man did not have an accomplice. He could not say whether it was because he wanted to look like a hero in front of Sijiang, or if it was for the sake of the month’s salary he had in his wallet, but he thrust Sijiang behind him and poised himself to fight with the short man. His assailant, saying nothing, made a random stab, knocking his glasses to the ground. Immediately, everything in front of him became a blur. The short fellow took the opportunity to make a couple of more swipes at him, deftly reached in to take the bulging wallet from his back pocket and quickly disappeared.

  Sijiang was scared speechless. By the time she thought of calling for help, the short guy had long since vanished into the darkness and was sitting somewhere counting his swag. But she cried out, mostly to release the fear, then at once collected herself enough to take the bloodied Specs to the hospital. He objected to her using two hundred yuan from her own pocket but his injuries, though not terribly serious, were not negligible. He was in the hospital for two days, and needed an additional two weeks to recover. As soon as she knocked off work, Sijiang would cook up nourishing meals to take over to him. Putting aside any pretence of shyness, she openly stayed by his side.

  ‘Why didn’t you just give him the wallet and forget it?’ Sijiang was a little confused.

  ‘I’m taller than him and I thought I could take him. Who knew he’d come after me so quickly? Then my glasses fell off and everything was blurry. If not, I’d have really shown him!’

  ‘Didn’t you see that he had a weapon? Next time, just do what he says. Give him the wallet. Why try to be a hero?’

  ‘Next time? Next time, stuff the money into your bra.’ The two of them turned the excitement of the incident into flirting. Having experienced this catastrophe, they had more of a feel for each other as they passed the time together.

  After Specs had recovered, he suggested they move in together but Sijiang wasn’t sure it was a good idea. ‘Good or bad, how will you know if you don’t try?’ Specs said, who was all in favour of giving it a go.

  ‘We don’t need to rent. We’ve both got places to stay.’ Sijiang hated the idea of paying rent. Money wasn’t all that easy to earn.

  ‘Yeah, we’ve both got places to stay. But I want to share a place. So we can eat and sleep together. I mean, we both have needs. Don’t you want to start our life together?’ Specs knew that Sijiang wasn’t really refusing him, she just needed reassurance. Or, you might say, it was all for the sake of a girl’s self-esteem. Sijiang chewed on her lower lip, her tiny eyes squinting in thought as she glanced at Specs. After a moment, she pouted and said, ‘Is it marriage?’

  Specs, elated, said with an innocent smile, ‘We’re going to be married.’

  Sijiang’s face, though no longer quite as fresh and round as an apple, perked up. He might as well have put a ring on her finger.

  ‘Sijiang, let’s wait till we get our diplomas, then we’ll get better jobs, improve our finances, rent a nicer house – maybe even buy a house! – then we’ll really have a better life. We’ll work hard, OK?’

  Sijiang nodded fiercely, saying, ‘I’ve already planned to open a salon, to earn a bit of money to send home and buy myself some prettier clothes.’

  Sijiang’s heart was warmed, and she softly burrowed herself against his chest. Suddenly she thought, I wonder if Xiaohong has a lover.

  III

  ‘I’m in the publicity department.’ When Xiaohong phoned the Qianshan Hotel to tell Wu Ying and Ah Xing, she felt like she was saying, ‘I’m a crusader’.

  Ah Xing, pleasantly surprised, said, ‘You’re an advocate for public good. Congratulations!’

  Wu Ying grabbed the phone and said, ‘Public education is important.’

  ‘Public education is for the birds,’ Xiaohong said laughing, ‘or at least, we get to talk about people’s cocks all day. Anyway, whenever either of you is ready to have kids, or if you want to get your tubes tied, or if you have any problems in your sex life, you can come to me for help!’

  Wu Ying teased, ‘You take care of your own sex life first.’

  ‘My own sex life is basically non-existent. I rely solely on the hand.’

  Ah Xing said, ‘It’s like you’ve been unleashed in that job!’

  Xiaohong asked how things were at the hotel. Ah Xing said everything was fine, and that nothing had changed much, the coast seemed clear for the twenty per cent discount scheme.

  ‘Then I don’t have to worry anymore about the security of my comrades. A guilty conscience is a real burden.’

  Xiaohong was moved to the publicity room, chased out of the mindless routine of her clockwork life, like a duckling herded into the water for the first time. Her thinking and habits had been shaped by a different sort of experience. She was tense, but as she began to settle in, she found that if she took the time to get familiar with her surroundings, she could get used to this aquatic lifestyle, learning to swim with ease.

  Before long, she had a good grasp of all the hospital’s so-called publicity materials. Really, it was just a patchwork of writings on family issues or a hodgepodge of stuff about one’s private life for people to read. For instance, every week they recycled the publicity and public education material from old newspapers and presented it as new material. Of course, it all had to do with medicine, women’s issues and reproductive health concerns. Then there were the notes scribbled onto the bulletin boards. The headers rarely changed, the content in the reports was always small and inconspicuous, and the fonts and art work were all pretty mundane.

  She had numerous errands to run, such as customising banners for important campaigns. She also managed the medical health section for a local newsletter, teaching readers the best positions, how to have a smart baby and how to manage reproductive health. It was as if this small newsletter had some key part to play in changing the world, like it really made a difference.

  With the addition of Xiaohong, the original publicity manager, Xia Jifeng, who had always worked single-handedly, was no longer alone. He had explained the basics of public education work in ten minutes and then he had begun an endless stream of phone conversations. So the only perspective Xiaohong really got on the ongoing work of family planning propaganda from Xia came from his chatter on the phone.

  He was about 1.7 metres tall, no more than thirty-years-old and a little on the stout side with a prominent nose. At a glance, he looked a little like a Hong Kong pop star but Xiaohong couldn’t quite work out which one.

  ‘Xiaohong, since you came, things are much easier for me. Before, I was like both father and mother. I’m not cut out for that!’ Xia’s eyes were set far apart, giving him a slightly awkward a
ppearance. It made his expression one of perpetual sentimentality, softening his features even as he complained.

  ‘Is that so?’ Xiaohong asked, smiling at him with a somewhat threatening expression, as if possessing some secret she could use against him.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Xia, looking innocent, wiped the sweat from his face.

  ‘Nothing’s wrong.’

  Xiaohong continued to smile. She wasn’t yet ready to say she liked Xia and his muscular form rippling under his black t-shirt. Having just two people in such a cosy office, she felt that they would end up in bed together sooner or later.

  IV

  Xiaohong had much more freedom working in the publicity department. Unlike being on reception where she was chained to the desk, now she could saunter to the lab to chat or make her way next door to the outpatient obstetrics and gynaecology clinic. She became like those doctors who are in the hospital so frequently that they acquire a liking for its peculiar smell.

  The hospital was relatively quiet. Including the doctors, ninety per cent of whom were female, there were dozens of women – too many women to count, a sea of women, of all shapes and colours, as if a floodgate had been opened without warning.

  In the lab, Xiaoqiao and Youqing were the youngest girls. They wore the shortest skirts which, like their white lab coats, barely touched their knees. Along with He Jianguo, the only male technician in the lab, who had a prosthetic leg, they often talked about maternity-related issues. Every time Xiaohong went to the lab, looking through the window past the white plastic sample cups, she would always see faces lit up with laughter amidst the small talk that, like the urine and stool samples contained within those white cups, was so muddled you couldn’t distinguish one from another.

  ‘Ah Hong, come here. That girl with the STDs, what’s she doing now?’ the short-haired Youqing asked brightly as she lifted her face, round as a melon, from her newspaper. She always made a great effort to put on a pleasant expression, though one could never tell whether it came from confidence or artifice.