by Tie Ning
“Sure enough, that woman was you, Tiao. For a long time the name ‘Tiao’ had frightened me, made me feel uncomfortable and tense. When you first appeared that Sunday, I felt a pang of emptiness and unease. From my momentary glimpse of you, as I hid behind the cinnamon tree, I remember your hairstyle, clothes, and shoes. I had imagined you as someone very avant-garde, with short hair like a boy’s. But you wore your hair gathered up and used a hairpin to fix it into a tidy ponytail, casual and unusual. Your smooth forehead and graceful walk also left a deep impression on me, making me both envious and ill at ease. I even remembered you held a light, soft straw hat in your hand, decorated with a linen ribbon that had Persian chrysanthemum patterns. Ah, crowned with Persian chrysanthemums, I thought. I had no idea why such a poetic description would pop into my mind just when I was at my lowest: crowned with Persian chrysanthemums.
“Anyway, you were crowned with Persian chrysanthemums. Do you remember having that straw hat?” Wan Meicheng said, and scooted the chair under her bottom so she could be closer to Tiao. Tiao could see her nostrils flaring, which made her seem like some harmless small creature with a keen sense of smell. She was sniffing Tiao, or maybe she wasn’t sniffing Tiao but trying to sniff out Chen Zai through Tiao. She was driven to get close to Tiao, and the closer she was to her, the closer she was to Chen Zai. Maybe her nostrils were not flaring, and it was just Tiao’s imagination. Still, she believed Wan Meicheng’s eagerness to be around her was because of her yearning to be around Chen Zai, exactly as she’d said at their first meeting. It made Tiao feel a little insecure, and yet she was also drawn to Wan Meicheng. Wan Meicheng hadn’t come to condemn her and provoke her; their meeting felt more like a heart-to-heart talk, with frankness and compliments enhancing each other. Wan Meicheng was either very sincere or very crafty, but one thing Tiao was sure of was that she wasn’t threatening. What had she asked her? Oh, she’d asked if Tiao remembered that she used to have a straw hat.
Tiao said, “I did have a straw hat like that. Linen ribbon printed with Persian chrysanthemums. I don’t know if you like Persian chrysanthemums, but I do. The first time I saw some was at the Martyrs’ Cemetery at Fuan when I was still in elementary school. On Tomb-Sweeping Day each year, our school would organize us to sweep the Martyrs’ Cemetery. We carried homemade wreaths, walked a long way, breathing the dust all the way to the Martyrs’ Cemetery located in the outskirts of the city, and dedicated the wreaths to the martyrs. Then we would listen to the guide talk about the heroic deeds of those martyrs in the tombs.
“I remember once a young woman guide took us to a white marble tomb where a heroine of the war against Japan was buried. Betrayed by a collaborator, she was captured by the Japanese. They scooped out her breasts, and, to stop her angry curses, cut out her tongue as well. The guide was very young and looked almost like a middle school student. To this day I still remember how round her face was, and that round face didn’t match the somber atmosphere there. She started her introduction. ‘Students …’ she said. ‘Students …’ she said again, and then she began to laugh. It was shocking that she could laugh on such a solemn occasion. She laughed very hard, the kind of laughter that sounded almost like crying, her voice getting higher and higher and her shoulders shaking. She couldn’t control herself. Neither my classmates nor I laughed, and our teachers didn’t, either. We had been taught long before that laughter was forbidden in the Martyrs’ Cemetery. We were all very disciplined in this regard, and some in the class would even arrange their sad expressions in advance. Everyone was frightened by her laughter, seized by a feeling of impending disaster. Our teacher found the director of the cemetery, who took the guide, still in the grip of hysterical laughter, away.
“Later, we heard from our teacher that the guide had been charged with antirevolutionary activity and sentenced to prison. How dare she laugh in front of the martyr’s tomb? When I thought back on the incident as an adult, I supposed her mind must have been in a highly nervous state. She must have taken her job so seriously and wanted to do it so well that she began to laugh right at the most inappropriate moment. Just as in school: The more we told ourselves not to make mistakes in our presentations, the more likely it was that we would say something wrong. We were afraid we might even shout out antirevolutionary slogans at critical moments. Another guide, an old man, took over. Standing at the heroine’s tomb, we listened to the touching story of the martyr. It was at that moment I noticed several Persian chrysanthemums in front of the tomb, but they were not real, since they don’t bloom in April. Who dedicated these flowers to the war heroine, and why choose Persian chrysanthemums? Was it because the martyr had liked the flower when she was alive? I liked them, too, with their long stems and simple petals. Later, when I saw real Persian chrysanthemums on some old obscure graves in the west mountain area of Fuan, I also liked their frail but independent posture. I thought about the heroine in the Martyrs’ Cemetery, whom I always confused with the girl guide with the round face. Because the two were mixed up in my mind, sometimes I would imagine that the round-faced guide was the war heroine who had leaped out of the tomb, leaped out and laughed, with slender Persian chrysanthemums growing on her head. I liked the straw hat I used to have. Do you know what it felt like when you wore it? I felt I was gliding over the ground like someone from the tomb, soundless, invisible to people except for the fully blooming Persian chrysanthemums. You said it so well, crowned with Persian chrysanthemums. Tell me, doesn’t every one of us have a day when we are crowned with Persian chrysanthemums? When we are crowned with Persian chrysanthemums, do we still merely walk? What do you think?”
Wan Meicheng listened to Tiao talk about Persian chrysanthemums with fascination. It was the first time that Tiao had spoken about herself and her childhood, which Wan Meicheng took as a friendly gesture. She didn’t mean to express hostility to Tiao in any way. When crowned with Persian chrysanthemums, did we still merely walk? Wan Meicheng didn’t know and had never thought about it. She said, “I don’t know, but on that Sunday, when I saw you were crowned with Persian chrysanthemums, I was determined to buy the same straw hat.
“Chen Zai came upstairs and I returned to the room from the balcony. I said nothing about you, and neither did he. We drove home in the evening and I sat in the place where you had sat. Your breath and scent still seemed to linger in the air. I simply closed my eyes and said nothing. Chen Zai asked me if I was ill and I said no. We got home, took a shower, went to bed, and made love. He was very aggressive, unusually aggressive. Everything seemed different from before, and I even started to imagine he was about to give me a child. Please give me a child. Oh, please let me conceive a child! I tried especially hard to please him to get him to do what I wanted. Both of us said embarrassing things that we normally wouldn’t say. When I got very excited and was about to come, he suddenly called, ‘Tiao, Tiao—’”
Tiao interrupted Wan Meicheng and said, “Please don’t go on.”
Wan Meicheng said, “Don’t interrupt me. I have to get this out. He called out ‘Tiao, Tiao,’ which saddened me to the point of desperation. But do you know what? I murmured back to him anyway. It wasn’t that I was utterly without pride; I still had the delusion that if he really thought I was you at that moment, maybe he would let me have his child … But I failed again. He realized his slip of the tongue and was embarrassed about it. My biggest achievement that night was that I confirmed you were the lover in his heart, you, crowned with Persian chrysanthemums.
“I sat in front of the mirror and looked at my face; I pulled the fringe off my forehead and to the back. I wanted to change my hairstyle. I wanted to cut my shoulder-length hair and expose the nape of my neck. Tiao, you were my archenemy, but how I wanted to become you. One day I put on the same kind of straw hat, the exact same skirt you had worn on that Sunday, and sat in the room waiting for Chen Zai to come home. He was truly stunned when he came back, and then said, ‘What is this all about?’ That’s what I wanted to tell you, Tiao. I’m a complete f
ailure. How is it possible for me to really become you? You ruined my life, after all. But I want you to know that I don’t hate you now, because I love Chen Zai, and if I love him, I should love whom he loves—which is a very difficult task. But if I can do it, then I’m a winner. I am trying to get close to you. Please let me.”
Chen Zai’s return interrupted their meetings. Excitedly, he told Tiao that he had ordered a set of Swedish kitchen appliances, very practical, the dishwasher came with a garbage disposal, and Tiao was going to love it. He kissed her and asked how things were at home and was there any news? Tiao said everything was fine and nothing had happened. She twined her arms around Chen Zai’s neck and draped herself against his body, listening, mesmerized, to his quickening breath, and she concealed her meetings with Wan Meicheng.
She found indescribable excitement in her secret. She was not sure what to do yet, but Wan Meicheng’s unexpected frankness and sincerity attracted her.
That summer, Tiao called Wan Meicheng behind Chen Zai’s back. This time she initiated the appointment. She invited Wan Meicheng to meet at Youyou’s Small Stir-Fry so that she could treat her to a meal there. She didn’t know whether she wanted to use the occasion to seduce Wan Meicheng into more talk about her past with Chen Zai, to show her sincere gratitude to Wan Meicheng for her openness, or to hope that everything would stop right there. Even though neither had any ill intentions, there seemed to be the threat of turmoil beneath the surface.
Wan Meicheng came to Youyou’s Small Stir-Fry as they agreed, and Tiao watched her as she crossed the street. She wore the straw hat with Persian chrysanthemums and had on a white skirt like the one Tiao used to have. All this made Tiao feel as if she had another self. Didn’t Wan Meicheng and she look a little like each other? She remembered reading somewhere that if a man had been married twice, his two wives, no matter how different from each other they looked, must have some similarities that ordinary people couldn’t discern.
In what way did they resemble each other? Could it have something to do with the silent, scentless Persian chrysanthemums?
4
“How are you going to drink the liquor, cups or glasses?” Tiao asked Wan Meicheng.
“How do you want to drink it?” Wan Meicheng asked.
Youyou brought them a bottle of Five Grain Liquor and Wan Meicheng said, “Good, Five Grain Liquor is perfect. Out of all the kinds of liquor, Chen Zai drinks only Five Grain, right, Tiao?” She looked at Tiao, and her nostrils started to flare again.
Tiao said nothing, but she agreed silently. Chen Zai just loved to drink Five Grain Liquor and had almost succeeded in teaching her to like it, too. But she didn’t want to start their discussion with this subject. Two women talking about the habits of the man who had been intimate with both embarrassed Tiao, and she worried that it might be painful to Wan Meicheng.
Wan Meicheng said, “We can drink out of a teacup, or the rice bowls. I remember, in a movie that had a farewell scene for a hero, they all used rice bowls for liquor. No one used those little wineglasses.”
Youyou said, “Teacher Wan, we aren’t heroes and none of us can hold our liquor very well. Let’s not use rice bowls.” Youyou’s daughter was a student at Wan Meicheng’s school, so Youyou addressed her as Teacher Wan.
Wan Meicheng said, “No, we’re not heroes, we’re … heroines, not to mention the fact that I’m really leaving, off to the wars. Youyou, bring out your bowls, pour us the liquor.”
Youyou took out three rice bowls and poured the bottle into the three bowls, and the odour immediately assailed their noses.
Wan Meicheng raised her bowl first, playing the hostess, and said, “Cheers.”
But Tiao and Youyou didn’t move; they had both heard Wan Meicheng say that she was leaving. Tiao asked, “Where do you plan to go, Wan Meicheng?”
“I plan to quit my teaching job and go to Gabon. My uncle sells clothes in the capital, Libreville, and needs a helping hand. He wants me to come and I want to go, too.”
Tiao said, “You mean you’re going to leave China? I thought you were going off to another city on some personal errand.”
“I didn’t intend to mention it today. Why should I talk about myself? Tiao, what’s your relationship with me? Unlike you and Youyou—you’re friends—we have none. And Youyou, neither do we—I’m just your daughter’s art teacher. It’s nobody’s business that I’m going to Gabon. I could just slip away quietly, but human beings all have their weaknesses. I want to be generous but I can’t quite manage it. Tiao, the closer I’ve got to you, the more pain I’ve felt, but the more pain, the more I’ve wanted to see you. You’re the only bridge between Chen Zai and me. Are you afraid? Don’t be, I’m going away, aren’t I? I know I can’t go on like this anymore. One day I read a book that asked what the most intact thing in the world was, and the answer was that nothing is more intact than a broken heart. Everyone says books lie, but I don’t think so. When you’re most desperate, one line in a book could be a straw to clutch when you’re drowning, and even though it’s just a straw, it’s made me understand that I’m not that bad, but that I can’t keep pestering you like this, Tiao. Come on, let’s drink!”
Wan Meicheng picked up the bowl with both her hands and took a swig of Five Grain Liquor. Then she put down the bowl and asked, “None of you want to drink? I’ll drink by myself.” She took another gulp.
Tiao and Youyou picked up their bowls and drank. Neither of them could say anything to Wan Meicheng’s announcement. They could neither encourage her to leave nor convince her to stay. Tiao, particularly, felt that whatever she said to Wan Meicheng would seem cruel. No matter what she said, she’d just look like someone who was simply standing back to enjoy the commotion. As she kept drinking, she could only tell Wan Meicheng, “I never thought you were pestering me. Please don’t say that.”
Wan Meicheng sneered. “Tiao, this is where you’re a hypocrite. Do you really like me to be so close to you? When you heard that I was going to go as far as Gabon, you must have felt great relief deep in your soul. Only, the you on the surface still can’t face your soul, so you feel guilty about me. You’re not really sorry. It’s just how you were brought up. Do you think my words make … any sense … sense …”
Wan Meicheng was now blind drunk, reeling drunk, and she slumped to the table. Youyou called for a taxi and took her home with Tiao.
It was the first time that Tiao had entered Chen Zai’s previous home, which was a mess, an embarrassing state caused by the mistress’s neglect. They helped get Wan Meicheng into her bedroom and onto the bed. Tiao saw their large bed. Even though Chen Zai was long gone, two pillows still lay side by side. A crumpled bath towel was spread loosely over the right side of the bed, and the left side must have been reserved by Wan Meicheng out of habit. Man on the left side and woman on the right. Tiao knew Chen Zai preferred the left. It seemed Wan Meicheng would never sleep in the middle of the bed, even though Chen Zai was never going to come back. Now, even drunk, Wan Meicheng lay down on the right side of the bed. To look at this large bed that Wan Meicheng didn’t want to be faced with made Tiao especially sad.
She and Youyou closed the door and went to the street. They stood in the summer evening breeze for a while and then walked together to the Design Academy. They hadn’t walked side by side for a long, long time, and it felt like going back to old times, to their teenage years—on their shoulders, canvas backpacks with Chairman Mao’s Quotations inside, which included the words, “Revolution is not inviting friends to dinner.” It was when Youyou misquoted Chairman Mao that they’d got to know each other. At the time, inviting friends to dinner was their shared obsession. Further and further they kept walking into the Design Academy grounds. When they passed the awful manhole, they pretended not to see it. They finally entered the small garden and found a bench to sit down. Tiao said, “Youyou, I feel very sad.”
Youyou said, “Is it because of Wan Meicheng?”
“Not exactly.”
“When are you a
nd Chen Zai going to get married?”
“Maybe in the autumn, when he’s finished the project he’s been working on.”
“Of the three of us—Fei, you, and me—you’ve been the happiest.”
“What do you think happiness is?”
Youyou said, “Happiness is when you feel happy.”
Tiao smiled. This was the reason that she had liked Youyou all her life. Whether Youyou felt happy or not herself, she could always make Tiao feel happy and at ease. This was the most precious part of Tiao’s life—her friends. This childhood friend of hers, Youyou, was always ready to help Tiao, and never judged her.
“Am I wrong?” Youyou asked.
“Someone said to me once, happiness is to be in your hometown, holding your sweetheart’s hand, and eating your favourite food! By that measure, you’re the happiest of us.”
Youyou said, “I haven’t read any books for a long time, but I think the lines that Wan Meicheng quoted were very true. It’s human nature to pursue the intact, but the most intact thing in the world is nothing but a broken heart. Tiao, my heart has never been broken. I’m a pool of stagnant water. When we were little, when we set up our banquets at home, I believed the thing that would make me happiest was to become a chef. Now I own a restaurant, but I don’t feel happy. Of course, I don’t feel unhappy, either. That’s what I meant by a pool of stagnant water.”
A cool breeze blew and Tiao smelled the faint odour of grease smoke in Youyou’s hair. She was not put off by the smell, because it was real, a reminder of the ordinary world.
As the wind stirred the leaves of the London plane tree, they both raised their heads simultaneously to look at it, perhaps thinking about the ring at the same time, too. Youyou said, “One year, Fei brought me here and asked me to help her get a ring that was in that tree. She said you threw the ring into the tree, and that it was a keepsake from Fang Jing. But she was short of money at the time and wanted to get the ring and sell it. She took me to the tree and we did see the ruby ring caught in a branch. She said, ‘Youyou, can you climb up and get the ring for me?’ I said I was too fat, and Fei said, ‘Maybe I can stand on your shoulders.’ I said I was afraid it would hurt. Fei said, ‘You don’t really want to help me.’ I asked, ‘Do you really need the money?’ Fei said, ‘It’s simple; if you feel you’re short of money, then you need it.’ In the end we didn’t touch the ring in the tree. Tiao, are you thinking it’s still there?”