by Keyi Sheng
Yihua first learned about cars from Liuzi. Liuzi had not gone back, nor had he said he would stay to keep her company. He worked at a nearby hotel, as a security guard at the car park there. Liuzi was accustomed to an idle life, but he worked just to pass the time. He had plenty of money on him, so he rented a one-room, one-hall flat for 700 yuan a month, where he and Yihua settled in. Yihua slept on the bed, Liuzi on the sofa. Sometimes they both slept on the bed, but Yihua made him promise that he’d never touch her, nor even think of touching her, or she’d go straight to the dorm and stay there. Liuzi stuck to the rules, never deviating. Sometimes he would even cook peppers fried with pork slices for Yihua to remind her of home, and would accompany her to the shops, to the movies, or to the roadside stall to eat Cantonese congee.
Once, the pair were eating kebabs and drinking beer at a roadside stall in the hazy Guangzhou evening. Liuzi watched Yihua as if through a haze. He asked, ‘You don’t like me at all?’
Yihua said, ‘So what if I like you, and so what if I don’t?’
Liuzi had no reply to that.
Yihua said, ‘You’re the one who chose to stay. I didn’t ask you to. You shouldn’t expect anything from me.’
Liuzi said, ‘You’re really overbearing.’
Yihua curled her lips and said, ‘It’s not like you just met me today.’
Liuzi scolded, ‘You’re a devil woman, a sucker.’
Yihua thought, then added, ‘I don’t ever want to get married for as long as I live.’
Liuzi said jokingly, ‘Don’t dream. I’ve never asked you to marry me.’
Yihua smiled, ‘All right. I’ll take it that you’re giving up.’
Liuzi wanted to take back his words, but was afraid it would only result in further teasing, so instead he drained his cup.
As a key male character in the drama of my niece’s life, Liuzi plays no small role in this long story, so it is reasonable that I carve out his appearance for you. Liuzi was not ugly, but not handsome either. He had a crew cut, an ordinary square face, and features that were properly positioned. His physique could be considered burly, and though he liked to use force, his temperament was not necessarily rude. When he grew stubborn, he was not afraid of blood or pain. Yihua was something of a nemesis to him, having subdued him with ease. In his relationships with women, Liuzi was very gentlemanly. Take, for instance, how he had waited for Yihua to grow up. After all, she was only sixteen or seventeen. But he had underestimated her savviness – and she was more aware of this fact than anyone else.
Guangzhou’s summer had a sort of street hoodlum meanness to it, leaving no trace of anything praiseworthy. The tall buildings made the streets feel like a canyon floor, with a fusion of various waste gases rising from it. The sun made faces look like they had been smeared with butter, turning the skin sticky and the breath hot, with the thick, scorching wind making it even more stifling. Short little girls swung their dark, thin arms and legs, while fair-skinned, voluptuous women from the north exposed their cleavages. Foreigners of all different colours could be seen gazing through the windows of cafés along the road, with cups of Blue Mountain, Brazilian coffee, or mocha in front of them.
Yihua stood inside the glass door of the Bingsheng Hotel, her legs aching, feeling as bored as a plant exposed to extreme sunlight. She usually got along well with Lu Mingliang, a girl from Chongqing. Mingliang was straightforward and happy, and was never arrogant over her good looks. She even tended to make fun of girls with pretty faces and deep cleavages. She said their faces had clearly-marked prices and a blatant, Can you afford it?, arrogance written all over them. As soon as they met a rich man, they turned into lap dogs.
But Mingliang had resigned and gone to work at the Pearl of the Orient nightclub. She said to Yihua, ‘Hurry up and come with me. Working at the Bingsheng is a waste of your youth.’
So one night she went to the Pearl of the Orient to look for Mingliang. Mingliang was working, and she moved through the dim light and shadows. She wore a white princess dress with a tiara, very vibrant makeup, and heavy perfume. Yihua asked, ‘Why are you dressed like that?’
Mingliang said, ‘It’s my uniform.’
Yihua saw several other girls dressed the same way, busily showing the guests to their private rooms, flitting around like fairies. Yihua stared, seeing the elaborate decor inside and feeling like she was in a royal palace, and she was dazzled and lost amid its resplendence and magnificence.
Mingliang said, ‘Those who go to the Bingsheng are there to take the family to dinner. Those who come here, come for pure pleasure. If the men want to approach you, they approach without scruples. A couple of days ago, one of the girls won the favour of a boss from Macau, and he took her home.’
Yihua claimed that she hated working during the day, and thought working nights suited her better. She’d have no problem working all night. Mingliang led her along a brightly lit corridor to a snack bar, dim and full of sultry music. Mingliang went up to the woman drinking at the bar, leaned over to talk to her, then waved Yihua over. Only when Yihua approached did she see that the woman was a man, and her heart almost stopped. He was the manager of the Pearl of the Orient, a man named Zhou. He had long hair and an ear stud. He looked Yihua over, but seemed to feel this was not enough, so he asked her to sit down at one of the tables for a chat. Zhou wore all black, and was as skinny and pale as a vampire. His speech and actions were both soft, and Yihua thought maybe he really was a woman. But it didn’t actually matter whether Zhou was male or female. He seemed to be testing Liu Yihua’s ability to respond under the ambiguous lighting, asking her various questions. His expression was alert, and she was afraid he would disappear in a cloud of smoke right before her eyes.
Yihua said she’d really like a beer, since her throat was dry from all the smoke. When Zhou asked whether she was a good drinker, she smiled and said, ‘Well, I’ve never been drunk.’
Zhou asked, ‘How about some whiskey?’
Then, without waiting for her consent, he caught the eye of the waitress and ordered two glasses of black label, asking Yihua if she wanted ice.
Yihua said honestly that she’d never drunk whiskey before, and had only had ice in a cola. Zhou smiled elegantly. ‘Then I’ll make the call.’
Before long, the waitress returned with the liquor, along with plates of cashews and peanuts. Yihua looked at the dark colour of the drink and, seeing that it looked like cola, she took a big gulp. She immediately realised it was a strong spirit. Fortunately, she’d had a few drinks of baijiu with Liuzi before, so her mouth did not explode.
Zhou asked Yihua how old she was. Adding a couple of years, she said nineteen. Zhou smiled as if he were tired, saying, ‘The first requirement for working at the Pearl of the Orient is that you are beautiful. The second is that you can drink. The third is that you don’t get emotionally involved with the patrons. Any questions?’
Yihua said that she had a boyfriend, giving Liuzi a status upgrade. Zhou’s mouth twitched contemptuously. ‘Once your emotions are stirred, don’t talk about boyfriends, even marriage is nothing. Humans are lustful things. I have a friend who says that ecstasy is but a heap of beautiful ashes. These words are easily understood, but hard to live by. You appear to understand them. To tell you the truth, in the working world, love is the greatest pitfall.’
Yihua fell in love with the dark drink and gradually began to feel a little intoxicated. Though she didn’t understand what ‘beautiful ashes’ were, she knew more or less how to behave in the working world. She had experience with Dai Xinyue and Liuzi, and she had worked at the Bingsheng for quite some time. She had seen all sorts of people. You might even say she had seen the world.
Out of friendship for Yehe Nara, I told her my story about Tang Linlu. She laughed at me for falling for him at one glance. She had never experienced a secret crush; she always expressed her feelings if she liked someone, and the other party’s response was of no consequence. She felt it best for a person to travel with as little ba
ggage as possible, and one certainly should not spend a whole lifetime carrying garbage – picking it up along the way and discarding it; get it, leave it, throw it away, and be done with it.
I asked her whether she had experienced a period of shyness in girlhood. She said, ‘No. If the head is stuffed full of too many things, it will get cloudy. From the time I came out of the womb, I’ve hated beating around the bush or hiding things. It’s no secret who I’ve loved or who I’ve slept with.’
I thought she was a glass house. At a glance, the inside of the structure, the furnishings, and its style could be seen clearly, and were not hidden in darkness. There were no dead ends and, though the sun might momentarily cast a shadow, it would move before long. I studied with Yehe Nara for three months, but I could not achieve that sort of behaviour so quickly. Maybe after ten years, I could be like her, rising above everything.
I had not yet let go of Qin Huaihe at that time. When he came back to China, he went to my school to find me, and I fell for him again. We spent two nights together. Unfortunately, we felt more like fuck buddies. When his girlfriend called from England, he hid in the washroom to answer the call. I could hear him lying. I knew I was the one who made the situation so terrible, that I had turned such an open love into betrayal, but without any of the joy of betrayal. When it was over, my heart was full of sorrow.
I had also not expected to encounter Tang Linlu again after so many years. He did not sing and play the guitar anymore, but he had become a skilled veteran womanizer. Yehe Nara said he womanised for fun, while he also had a lover who was a painter. She did not mind his straying, because an outstanding man was rarely single-minded. The couple gave each other appropriate space, which was why their relationship had always been fairly good.
That day, I went alone to the Thinker Bookstore. There were two instincts that made me seek him out; I was a reporter, and I was Li Xiazhi’s younger sister. I wanted to hear Tang Linlu talk about what happened that year. This matter was always weighing on my mind, just as it shrouded my parents.
Tang maintained a sort of respect for the relatives of his deceased friend. His conversation was not light and frivolous like with Yehe Nara. The atmosphere was solemn. He wore a navy-blue cotton Chinese shirt, his moustache was well trimmed, his chin clean-shaven, and he had a bracelet of brown sandalwood beads on his right wrist. Yehe Nara had told me before that each one of those beads cost 1000 yuan, and he also had a priceless jade pipe that he did not like to show to others. I had a difficult time linking this person to the Tang Linlu who sang and played the guitar under our Chinaberry tree so many years ago.
When I asked him about my brother again, Tang seemed reluctant to describe the scene from that summer in 1989. He took me to see his collections of CDs. His office was like a small cinema, with a projector aimed at a white wall. He pulled out a music CD from a row of disks entitled ‘La Marseillaise.’ He asked if I was afraid of blood, and told me not to look if I was. I asked how music from ‘La Marseillaise’ could be bloody.
He said, ‘The cover is fake. The real thing is inside.’
I said, ‘I can watch a Stephen King film in the middle of the night without so much as blinking.’ He weighed the disk in his hand. He still hesitated, as if afraid I couldn’t accept the contents of the disk. I snatched it from him and put it in the machine, but did not know how to make it play. He taught me how to operate it, then left, closing the door behind him.
*
Watching it, I understood Tang’s reluctance to talk about that time. Even now, I cannot bring myself to talk about what I saw on the disk. Even if I were to tell, no one would believe me. I can hardly believe it myself. It was like I was just watching a movie, witnessing the experiences of my second brother and his friends in that year.
I sat silently, waiting for the blood that boiled inside me to cool.
When I left the mini-cinema, I noticed that the sky was indecently dark. Tang sat in his Mandarin chair, smoking. He looked like he had been waiting for me. He said there was going to be a storm, and that people would be able to swim or row boats on the streets again. There was a heavy smell of cigars in the room. In a daze, I seemed to smell the burning smoke I had seen on the screen and saw people swimming among fire and smoke.
We did not talk for a long time.
After a while, I said, ‘Give me a cigarette.’
He stood up and passed me a cigarette. My hands shook badly. I could not light the cigarette. In the end, he lit it and handed it back to me.
This was the first time I had ever smoked. I dragged too hard. The first inhalation of smoke burned my tongue, and tears came to my eyes.
The rain started to fall heavily against the window, pounding it like bullets, in a thick decisive burst. Scar-like stains were left on the window after the onslaught.
We could not see anything outside.
‘I mentioned you to Yu Shuzhong. He very much hopes you’ll join his team,’ he said.
I watched the bloody water pouring down the glass like a waterfall.
One needs emotions to be a reporter, but cannot act on blind emotions, I thought.
The rain suddenly slowed. The window was a mess.
‘Don’t cry, Xiaohan. Go find Yu Shuzhong. He’s still idealistic, not like me. I’m just dawdling,’ he said.
The ginkos were blooming in Beijing; turning yellow like roaring flames, flickering when the wind blew. The sparks, undying when they fell, continued to burn.
There was a good media outlet in Beijing waiting for me to report to my post, but after watching the ‘La Marseillaise’ disk, I changed my mind. When I left Beijing, the autumn wind was blowing in my heart, bright and sad. Yehe Nara taught me to put down my baggage as I moved forward and travel light. But, I did not do it. Instead, I carried Beijing’s autumn and the past years, wrestling with them the whole way of the jerky train journey, until all traces of them were gone. Yehe Nara and Tang Linlu drove me to the train station. They had prepared food and drinks for me. Tang gave me a set of Václav Havel’s Collected Works. Yehe Nara said, ‘You might not adjust to Guangzhou. Your mentor is always here for you in Beijing. Don’t worry, I'll always be here for back-up.’
She was sunny and cheerful, laughing the whole time. Tang was like a bird circling in a dull sky, flying lazily in his own pattern. At the time, he was frowning as he puffed out swirls of smoke, ascending as if from a bottomless pit.
‘Please take care of my mentor. Be good to her,’ I said to Tang, laughing. Then, I boarded my train.
*
Guangzhou’s autumn was hard, the people’s spotted expressions as cold as the concrete surface. Reality covered everything, and nothing could lift my inner melancholy. I climbed into a taxi dully and looked out the window throughout my journey. I had never lived here before, but I already felt a sort of weariness, as if I already had for a long time.
I told the driver I wanted to go to Today Newspaper, Jin Bao. He did not say a word. Fearing he had not heard me, I repeated it. He just said two words. In his Cantonese accent, they came out as, Chicken Street, Ji Dao.
The car moved coldly along. I looked at the things outside the window. The sound of the train chugging lingered in my mind. I’m not sure how, but I fell asleep. When I awoke, the metre had already leapt to seventy-two yuan. Five minutes later, the car stopped at the entrance to the press offices. I paid and told the driver, ‘I know you took the long way round, but I won’t make a complaint. From the beginning, I didn’t like Guangzhou. Thank you for making me actually hate it.’
I registered at the door. Honestly, I had forgotten what Yu Shuzhong looked like, but we hit it off rather well this time. He was a year older than Xiazhi. He was not actually a young fellow anymore, but at first glance, he seemed to be the same person from years ago; he had not changed at all. When we met, it did not feel distant. He stroked his short hair, which had replaced his wild curled-up hairdo. We chatted about the scene under my Chinaberry tree so many years ago, recalling that mischievou
s little girl. He wore a T-shirt and blue jeans, looking free and fresh. His usual expression was serious, and his mouth had a slightly stubborn set to it. When he laughed and chatted, his face was completely transformed. That night he took me to eat Chaozhou cuisine, and we went on chatting over beef balls, grouper, and beer. He talked a lot, but seldom mentioned my second brother, only saying in passing that history would eventually make a fair evaluation of Xiazhi and his group. Mostly, he talked about his work managing the newspaper and his ideals in connection with it. He even asked for my views. I knew he was testing my news sensitivity and professionalism. I had already learned from Tang Linlu that Yu’s staff was carefully selected. He would not retain a blockhead on account of personal relationships.
When it was over, Yu told me that this meal had been my interview. He had confidence in me. He arranged for me to be in the News Department and run the news line.
On other people’s territory, Liuzi was quietly frustrated, given to moody silences. His expressions were always cold. Having nothing better to do, he would wear his flip-flops and stroll the streets. The stifling heat was relentless, making him bad-tempered. He was used to walking tall, having his own boys in a small town. They always settled scores for him, but now that he had ventured out on his own, he went everywhere with his tail between his legs. If it weren’t for Liu Yihua, he would have gone back long ago. What was really exasperating was that Yihua couldn’t be bothered with him. Without a word to him, she’d up and gone to the Pearl of the Orient. Liuzi had been very irritated, finally blowing his top, and eventually resorting to ridiculing her for working in a filthy place like that. Sooner or later, it was bound to tarnish her.