Wild Fruit

by Keyi Sheng

  Disgusted with her own train of thought, Shui Qin put down her bowl and chopsticks and went into the washroom. She lathered her hands with soap and started to wash slowly. She brushed her teeth, up and down, back and forth, inside and out, vigorously. As she scrubbed, in her mind there suddenly emerged a constant stream of wild rabbits, emerging from trouser crotches. Their ears stood erect. They were wretched, ugly creatures, and their animal odour assailed one’s nostrils.

  She was always washing, scrubbing, and brushing in this manner. We all assumed it was part of her prescribed treatment.

  The death of a young girl is like bait, attracting all sorts of fish. They surround it, take measure of it, poke at it, and discuss it, spitting bubbles all the while. They are suspicious, thoughtful, curious, and secretly excited. For those several days, our home was like an exhibition hall. The viewers brought their families, coming in and out. When they had viewed the free exhibition, they dawdled beside me and Yihua, offering a variety of praises and asking quietly about the outside world, particularly inquiring whether we could help their idle children find a way out. Regardless of whether or not we promised to help, they showered us with gifts. We barely escaped having them bring livestock into our courtyard. Some of them came to my mother, begging for her help. Because of her relationship with her neighbours, my mother asked me to see what I could do. I said, ‘If they don’t have the academic qualifications, I can’t help.’

  She replied, ‘Isn’t Yihua doing just fine?’

  I said, ‘She has some assets.’

  Ever vigilant, my mother said, ‘Tell me the truth. What is Yihua doing in Guangzhou?’

  I told her, ‘She’s a decent girl. She’s not doing anything bad.’

  My mother’s sorrow seemed to multiply before my eyes. She knew what sort of jobs required girls with ‘assets.’ Those from neighbouring villages who did not have academic qualifications but had assets were working at bars in Shenzhen, showing cleavages, lips painted blood red, and eyes painted jet black.

  Yihua was humiliated that I had concealed her real occupation. She felt it was upright work, and there was no need to lie about it.

  ‘I’m not a line leader. I work in a nightclub. I sell drinks and accompany customers while they drink. You can sleep with the customers if you want, but if you don’t want to, no one forces you to do it. That’s the situation. Wherever a person is, she can go wrong. When it comes down to it, it all depends on the person,’ she said loudly.

  The person who had come to ask for help was slightly embarrassed, and the faces of our family members went paler than ever. That night, my mother and sister had a talk with Yihua. Chuntian said, ‘Why did you have to publicize your work in a nightclub?’

  My mother said, ‘First of all, you shouldn’t have gone to a place like that. Who knows what sort of disease you might contract?’

  The two older women’s advice was humiliating, like a whip striking Yihua’s face. She tolerated and tolerated, on account of their bereavement and suffering. In the end, she could not stand it anymore. She finally let loose.

  ‘I do honest work. What have I done wrong? You two never bothered about me before. Just continue doing that, and leave me to live my own life. So what if I work in a nightclub? It’s much cleaner than the work I could do elsewhere! Do you think bureaucrats are clean? Or people who work nine to five? Does carrying a briefcase make someone clean? Do you think “decency” means “clean”? You’re wrong. You don’t understand me. It’s for the best that you never do.

  ‘You all live in this small place, never going out. You only see the superficial good or bad of things. You jump to conclusions. You don’t even know what’s going on in the world. I’m a bull in the open field. Why do you want to bother about me now?

  ‘Why didn’t you take Yicao in hand before it was too late? She was smoking, drinking, and fooling around with boys. Didn’t you know I had put all my hope in her? You go and look. See how many letters I wrote her and how many books I sent back. None of you cared at all about what I had become, as long as I didn’t make you lose face!’

  My sister and mother were speechless.

  Yihua felt like crying, but she also felt crying was no use. None of her tragedies could compare with Yicao’s death.

  The telephone pole half blocked Xiao Shui Qin. The fourth man that evening passed by.

  ‘Hand job, fifty yuan. Blow job, eighty. Old customers get a 10 per cent discount,’ Shui Qin popped those words out of her mouth suddenly. The fourth man looked like he had been hit by a stone. He suddenly stopped and looked at her, not understanding what she had said, though in the sultry night air, he could easily guess with 80 or 90 per cent accuracy.

  Shui Qin’s eyes lit up. What she saw was not a man, but money. She wanted to seize every banknote that passed before her and integrate it into her account. She had calculated that based on the number of men in Yiyang, if each one took just one hand job or blow job from her, she could earn enough to send Xianxian overseas to study. But most of these men were quite stingy, or their sex drive was not strong enough, or perhaps they had their needs met elsewhere. They held on to their noble sentiments, only making deposits in their own wives’ accounts or their lovers’ passbooks. They had very little interest in a ‘craftsman’ of Shui Qin’s sort.

  Tonight was an exception. The fourth man followed Shui Qin into an alley. He chose the eighty yuan package, but paid her 100.

  He looked good – clean, and somewhat cultured. Before he got excited, he chatted with her, saying, ‘I know you must have run into hard times. . . you’ll do anything to survive.’

  Shui Qin squatted in front of him and said to his lower body, ‘You’re a good man.’

  ‘Is business good?’

  She pulled the thing out, as if pulling out a carrot from the ground. ‘I can’t talk while I work.’

  He shut up. Looking down, he uttered quiet moans. Before long, his mouth was crooked, his eyes moving sideways, and he looked up and cried out.

  He pulled up his zipper and tidied his clothes. ‘I think all men should do this, helping a woman in difficult times, no matter through what means.’

  ‘This is my phone number.’ Shui Qin handed him a business card. It read: Flowers Reservation: Lady Thatcher. She used this pseudonym at work.

  The way the fourth man talked nauseated her, but she appreciated his patronage.

  Late that night, Shui Qin cleaned herself up and went to bed. Her hands were tired, and her mouth felt like it was still holding something.

  *

  My brother came home early in the morning. He wanted Shui Qin to give him 500 yuan to give to the family of his friend Li Ganzi, who had just passed away.

  Ganzi had died while he was fishing in the pond. He was carrying an electric prod. It was unclear whether it was suicide or an accident, but it didn’t matter, really. Either way, he was dead. Since he had got out of prison, he had not found a wife, but lived alone, sleeping each long night on a bed made of bricks, poor and dirty. After my brother moved into the city, the two had rarely met.

  Shui Qin said, ‘Five hundred yuan is a lot. You two were just regular friends, so 200 should be enough.’

  My brother said quietly, ‘A few of us talked about it and decided we would each give 500. That will at least cover the cost of a coffin. If I only give 200, it will be unacceptable.’

  Shui Qin curled her lip. ‘A favour given to other people can still be returned to you. A favour used on Li Ganzi’s body will come to nought. We aren’t rich. Ganzi’s ghost will understand.’

  My brother said nothing. As usual, he could not persuade Shui Qin. Lacking this ability, he merely dawdled, waiting for her to change her mind.

  Every time money was extracted, it was like carving on Shui Qin’s heart. This was especially true since her illness – her heart was covered with scars from the various extractions made to cover her medical fees. She wished silk could be made without the need to feed the silkworms, and she wished she could eat onc
e every three days instead of three times a day.

  In the end, Shui Qin gave my brother 300 yuan. Not wanting to lose face, he secretly went and borrowed an additional 200 from others.

  *

  The words ‘reformed prisoner’ were written all over the demeanour of Li Ganzi’s corpse when it was recovered from the water. Shunqiu carried the coffin, his legs shaking beneath Ganzi’s weight. Many thoughts came alive in his head, Ganzi was forever living in prison. He never really came out. What about me?

  Shunqiu bowed his head, sweat falling from his body onto the soil beneath him. He thought of Shui Qin, wondering which man she had been with. He felt sorrowful for a while, then unconsciously became proud of her. Wang Mazi’s woman is always smoking and playing cards. Zhang Niujing’s woman is always lazy. Li Banjin’s woman is always running back to her parent’s house. . . They aren’t half the woman Shui Qin is. Ah, she’s a good woman. Diligent, deft, organised. If I didn’t have her, this family would have collapsed long ago. . .

  The coffin came to a stop at the pit’s edge. Loess showered down, and several strange birds screamed as they flew across the sky. Children stood by, watching this final scene. The brawny men took hold of the ropes and let the coffin descend slowly, then started to shovel. A new grave quickly emerged from the ground as they piled the soil on top of it.

  My brother broke a pine branch and inserted it into the soil at the tip of the mound.

  When Yicao’s university admission notice was received, it was like seeing her remains. The family was thrown into sadness once again but, at the same time, their outlook on life did not change. Life went on as usual.

  Yicao’s death most impacted Yihua. Something inside Yihua had died with her sister. It was like her support had been taken away, and now the whole body slackened. She changed, and became uninhibited. Returning to Guangzhou after her sister’s death, she no longer simply sang or sold drinks, and she went beyond sitting on the guests’ laps, too. She now spent the night with them, taking their money before she left in the morning. Neither sad nor happy, she simply disappeared from their lives without a trace.

  In the private rooms, Yihua was like everyone else, wearing long, black muslin gowns, standing in a row. They were dark or pale, their skin peeping through their gowns, all there for the guests’ choosing. The girls wore badges on their breasts, displaying their work numbers instead of names. Yihua was Number Eight. The girl who used to be Number Eight had gotten married and was a mother now. Yihua had replaced her.

  On this night, Lu Mingliang had brought the girls into a private room, and they arranged themselves in a line. Four or five men sat on the sofa, puffing on their cigarettes and whispering in each other’s ear. They looked like hawkers with bulging waist pouches, preparing to take away a robust, sexy young cow.

  Mingliang whispered in Yihua’s ear, ‘I’m getting ready to resign.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I am going to have a baby.’

  ‘Whose is it? That truck driver, Han?’

  ‘Yes. He said that after my son is born, we’ll settle in Hong Kong.’

  ‘He has a wife. Don’t be cheated by him.’ Yihua was straight-forward. ‘I don’t quite trust Han.’

  While they were whispering, Yihua was selected. They had to call ‘Number Eight’ a second time before she snapped to alertness. She walked over and sat next to the man who was waving to her. She poured him a glass of wine and clinked her glass to his, feeling very much at home.

  Mingliang was chosen as well. She did not look well. As soon as she had had a couple of beers, she ran to the washroom. Yihua followed her and saw her leaning over the toilet bowl, retching.

  ‘If you’re not feeling well, don’t drink. Go home and rest.’ Yihua caught her loose long hair and pulled it back.

  ‘I’m pregnant,’ Mingliang said, raising her head. ‘I can’t keep doing this.’

  ‘Are you sure it’s Han’s?’ Yihua asked.

  ‘Of course it is,’ Mingliang replied.

  ‘Tell him to get you out of here quickly.’

  ‘He’s already arranged a place for me to live. . . At first, I wanted to finish this month, then go.’ Mingliang wiped her mouth.

  ‘If I were you, I wouldn’t stay another day,’ Yihua said. ‘You mean you can’t bear to leave?’

  ‘If I say yes, you can’t laugh at me,’ said Mingliang. ‘He only comes by once in a long while. I’m used to a lively scene. I’ll feel stifled living alone.’

  ‘You’re not alone. You’ve got the baby in your belly. You’ve got to think of him.’ Yihua tidied Mingliang’s hair, then helped her out of the washroom.

  *

  At one o’clock in the morning, Lilai was waiting for Yihua at the door of the nightclub. He walked back and forth under a tree, occasionally glancing at the entrance of the club. The red neon light blinked on and off, alternating between lighting and darkening his face. The effect was like a film montage.

  Yihua finally appeared. She was only lightly made up, and her hair was tied high on her head in a bun. Her skin was tight and glowing. A gust of wind blew at her long sky blue spaghetti-strapped dress. She had consumed a fair bit of alcohol and was a little drunk. She fell onto Lilai, giggling. She alternated between several poses, as if propositioning a stranger. Lilai carried her and put her on the motorcycle in front of him, wrapping his arms around her. He started the engine and accelerated. The motorcycle roared away at top speed in a cloud of dust, heading to the night market for a late night supper.

  Business in the market in Guangzhou did not slow down even in the early morning. Weary young people sat beside the stalls, continuing to drink, eat, and enjoy themselves. This was real life, spitting bones into the darkness, their laughter soaking into the dawn. But it was also illusory, like an underwater world.

  Crab congee, fried noodles, fried clams. . . Yihua was still giggling as the dishes arrived.

  ‘Why aren’t there any peppers in the dishes?’ She wrinkled her brow. ‘How can I eat anything without peppers?’

  ‘Hey, can we get some chilli sauce?’ Lilai called to the stall keeper.

  ‘I don’t want chilli sauce,’ Yihua said, annoyed. ‘Chilli sauce is chilli sauce and peppers are peppers. You have to add the chilli peppers when you cook the vegetables. It’s completely different from seasoning with chilli sauce. You don’t understand chili peppers, just like you don’t understand me.’

  ‘Both make the food spicy. Can you really tell the difference?’ Lilai asked perfunctorily, yawning.

  ‘It’s like I’m playing music for a cow,’ Yihua called to the aproned stall-keeper, ‘Give me some pan-seared green chilli peppers!’

  The stall-keeper ran over.

  ‘What is it you want?’

  ‘Pan-seared green chilli peppers,’ Yihua repeated.

  ‘I don’t know how to make that. Never heard of it.’ The man laughed. ‘Here in Guangzhou, we think it’s best to eat less chilli. Bumps on a pretty girl’s face are not nice-looking.’

  Yihua used the chilli sauce, but was not satisfied. Her temper flared.

  ‘The crab’s dead,’ she said, tossing away the crab shell. ‘I mean, it’s been dead for a long time.’

  ‘It’s been cooked thoroughly. How can it not be dead?’ Lilai teased, ‘Would you dare eat a live crab?’

  ‘A person who can’t discern between good and bad food won’t have the ability to discern other things,’ Yihua said. ‘I would rather die than eat such bland food every day.’

  Lilai put on an expression to please, carefully protecting Yihua’s fury, preventing it from igniting. He still wanted to marry her. His mother had urged him again just that day not to delay, so as to prevent trouble. If she got angry, there would not be a chance of her agreeing, and he would not even be able to propose.

  ‘My sister jumped because she didn’t have chilli peppers,’ Yihua said, giggling. ‘I knew she could get into the university. She was smart, and she had quick reactions. She was so damn smart.’<
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  ‘I’ve never met a girl cleverer than you,’ Lilai said sincerely. He was confused, and not sure whether Yihua was drunk or sober.

  ‘How many girls have you met?’ Yihua wanted to make things difficult for him. ‘A lot?’

  ‘The treatment centre used to take in a lot of girls. . . Those who were somewhat clever found ways to escape that place.’

  ‘Those girls don’t count. Must be those you’ve touched and slept with.’ Yihua giggled again. ‘Then you’ll know what’s good and what’s bad, or what’s dull and what’s spirited about them.’

  Yihua wanted Lilai to talk about other girls he had screwed. Finally, she forced it out of him. He had been with two other girls; one was his middle school classmate, and the other had escaped from the treatment station. He had long ago cut off contact with them. Now, he only had Yihua, and she was the only one he loved.

  He said, ‘Huahua, marry me. Move into my house. I’ll cook for you, and I’ll put chilli peppers in every meal.’

  Yihua thought that was hilarious. ‘I might as well marry a pepper,’ she said.

  ‘I’m serious. I wish you would be serious too.’ He did look serious.

  ‘I’m not joking. Getting married, having kids, and washing nappies is boring,’ she said.

  I love you. And you love me. Why not get married?’ he reasoned.

  ‘Do you want to hear the truth?’ she asked.

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I’ve never loved anyone but Liuzi.’