by Lao She
Ma Wei was still thinking about Miss Ely’s affair, and had tuned out as Li Tzu-jung spoke. ‘Poor Mary!’ Ma Wei gave a sigh.
‘You haven’t heard a word of what I’ve been saying, have you, old Ma?’ Li Tzu-jung was exasperated.
‘Yes, I heard you. I heard it all.’ Ma Wei smiled. ‘But poor Mary.’
‘Sod your Mary, and your Catherine! Poor? I’m the one to be pitied. Slaving away dawn till dusk, and still can’t make my fortune,’ bellowed Li Tzu-jung, flinging his arms and legs around in wild gestures, and scaring a flock of small birds out of the trees.
Ma Wei said nothing more, just walked on, marching forwards for all he was worth. His head was bowed, as if weighed down by an excess of thoughts.
Li Tzu-jung didn’t utter a word either, but stretched his stocky legs, and began to keep pace with Ma Wei. The two of them walked three miles without a stop, puffing and panting from their exertions. Their faces were red all over, and their fingers began to swell. Neither was going to slow down for the other, and neither spoke. They just walked and walked, more and more energetically.
Ma Wei looked at Li Tzu-jung, and Li Tzu-jung threw out his chest. Both of them carried on walking.
‘Poor Mary!’ said Li Tzu-jung suddenly, imitating Ma Wei’s tone of voice.
Ma Wei halted, and looked at him. ‘You’re deliberately making fun of me, old Li,’ he said. ‘What about Mary? And what’s poor about her?’
‘Well, you’re always telling me I’m too down-to-earth,’ said Li Tzu-jung, ‘so I’ll have to learn to be a bit more sentimental, won’t I?’
They walked on more slowly.
‘You don’t understand me, Li, old fellow,’ said Ma Wei, grasping Li Tzu-jung’s arm. ‘To tell the truth, I still can’t stop thinking about Mary. There’s just nothing I can do about it. Keeps me awake till midnight sometimes – honestly, it does. I think desperately about your advice, about how hopeless my father is, about my career, about studies and learning, but whatever I try to think about, I can’t get her out of my mind. She’s more beautiful than a fairy, and at the same time more dreadful than any demon!’
‘Ma, my dear lad, you and me are like brothers to each other, so may I, once more, advise you, whatever you do, to cut out the crazy notions!’ said Li Tzu-jung very sincerely. ‘I think she’ll sue Washington, and get at least five or six hundred pounds’ damages. With that sum of money, when she gets all dolled up and has her photo in the papers, I guarantee that within three months she’ll be married to some other bloke. Foreigners are scared stiff of the papers, but only too glad to have their name and photo appear in them. A bit of publicity goes a long way. Who knows who young Mary is now? Nobody! But once she hits the headlines, she’s made. She’ll get maybe several hundred letters a day proposing to her, and your prospects’ll be absolutely nil. Forget it, old Ma!’
‘No, you don’t know Mary. She wouldn’t do things like that,’ said Ma Wei very emphatically.
‘Just wait and see. She’d get rich and famous in one go, and she’s no fool. Anyhow, the law’s the law, and Washington’ll be done for breach of promise.’
‘So there’s no hope for me?’ Ma Wei sounded very dejected.
Li Tzu-jung shook his head.
‘I’ll have another try, and if she refuses me again, I’ll give it up,’ said Ma Wei.
‘As you like,’ said Li Tzu-jung in a disapproving tone.
‘Tell you what, old Li, I’ll have a word with her, and then I’ll have everything out quite frankly with my father about the shop. If she turns me down, there’s nothing I can do about it. But if my father won’t listen to me, I’m out the door. If he refuses to bother about anything, and just keeps on wasting money, there’s no point in any further discussion. I’ve got to study. I can’t stick around in a shop all day. I’ve put up with it all these months, but the fact’s lost on him. Unless I spell it out for him, he’ll never understand my side of things. I’ve got to tell him.’
‘Yes, it’d be a very good thing to tell him straight, without beating around the bush. But —’ Li Tzu-jung was looking at the milestone by the roadside. ‘Ha, we’re nearly there. It’s almost one o’clock. Where shall we go for a bite to eat? Bound to be no restaurants in the new town.’
‘Never mind. There may be a pub at the station where we can get a glass of beer and a couple of sandwiches. That’ll do,’ said Ma Wei.
Not far from the station there was a slope with a fair number of pine trees on it. The two young men sat on the slope, and gazed over the new town. The houses, big and small, were all built at the foot of the slope, and beyond the houses lay a smooth, shiny highway, the main Cambridge road, along which cars sped to and fro, looking like tiny black shuttles. The sky was overcast but there wasn’t any mist, and far away you could even see the old city of Welwyn, the spires of its churches towering up above the treetops like great bamboo shoots. Between the two cities lay an unbroken stretch of undulating green land, on which sheep and cows grazed in paddocks. As a flock of sheep began to run, it looked like one long drift of snow blown astir by the wind.
The two young men watched for a while, reluctant to move. Then the church clocks gently struck one o’clock.
After he got back from Welwyn Garden City, Ma Wei waited patiently for a time to chat with Mary, but the chance never arose.
One evening, Mrs Wedderburn had rather a headache, and went to bed early. Mr Ma had gone out after dinner, telling no one where he was going. Mary was sitting alone in the drawing room, holding Napoleon, and, with a gloomy face, telling the dog her troubles. Ma Wei gave a cough outside the door, then pushed the door open and went in.
‘Hello, Ma Wei.’
‘Ah, Mary, you didn’t go out?’ said Ma Wei, and came over to play with Napoleon.
‘Ma Wei, would you help me?’ asked Mary.
‘How could I help you?’ Ma Wei moved nearer to her.
‘Tell me where Washington is, will you?’ she said, with a forced smile.
‘I don’t know. Honest.’
‘Never mind. If you don’t know, it doesn’t matter.’ She pouted with disappointment.
‘Mary,’ he said, moving even closer. ‘Mary, are you still in love with Washington? Couldn’t you give someone who really loves you a break?’
‘I hate him.’ Mary drew herself back from Ma Wei. ‘I hate you men.’
‘There are some good men.’ Ma Wei reddened a little, and his heart was pounding.
Mary giggled, most unnaturally. ‘You go and buy a bottle of wine, Ma Wei, and we’ll have a drink, eh? I’m awfully fed up. In fact, I’m nearly at my wit’s end!’
‘All right, I’ll go and buy one. What do you want to drink?’
‘Anything’ll do, long as it’s strong. I don’t know anything about wines.’
Ma Wei nodded, put his hat on, and went out.
‘Ma Wei, my cheeks are all red. They’re ever so hot. You feel them.’
Ma Wei felt Mary’s cheeks, and, sure enough, they were very hot.
‘Let’s feel yours.’ Mary’s eyes were extraordinarily bright and shiny, and her cheeks were red, like cherry-apple blossoms in the morning sun.
He clasped her hand, his whole body trembling, and a stream of heat flowing across his back. He picked up her hand, like some piece of cotton wool, and put it to his lips. The back of her hand rose lightly to meet his mouth . . . Still holding her hand, he put his other arm round her, and moved his lips to hers.
The heat of her cheeks and her shoulders enveloped him, and he lost all awareness of anything else, and could only hear the leaping of his heart. He put all the vigour of his being into the kiss, and she, too, embraced him so tightly it were as though they’d become one person. His lips, hot, forceful, pressed down, while hers, fragrantly tender, soft and smooth, pushed back. His feet and legs had lost all warmth.
Unconsciously, he bent forwards and brought his lips down yet firmer, burning with emotion. She, with eyes closed and face upturned, held her body close to h
is.
And then she opened her eyes, and gently pushed his face away with her hands. He stepped back, almost fainting.
She poured another glass of wine down her throat, drinking with great ferocity, licked her lips most fearsomely, then stood up and looked at Ma Wei.
‘Ha ha! Why, it’s you – little Ma Wei. I thought you were Washington. You’ll do, though, Ma Wei. Give me another kiss. Here.’ She put her head on one side, and proffered him her right cheek.
Ma Wei stepped back, dumbfounded. ‘Are you drunk, Mary?’ he asked, trembling.
‘No, I’m not drunk. You must be, though!’ She swayed across to him. ‘Fancy you having the cheek to kiss me! You!’
‘Mary!’ He took her hand.
She let him hold it, bent her head and laughed like mad. She laughed and laughed, and then her voice changed, and she began to cry.
All this while, Napoleon had been looking at them, wondering what the dickens was going on. Suddenly he pricked up his little ears, and gave two barks. And Mr Ma opened the door and came in.
At the sight of their expressions, Mr Ma was flabbergasted, and lost himself in thought for a long moment, the outcome of which was that he lost his temper.
‘Ma Wei! What on earth is going on!’ asked Mr Ma in a tone of righteous indignation.
Ma Wei didn’t reply.
Mary said nothing, just let Ma Wei help her downstairs.
Ma Wei felt a terrible ache of distress, as if he’d been stabbed, and was filled with remorse that he’d ever drunk wine with Mary. It pained him to think of the way she’d treated him, and his heart filled with bitterness as he realised she had no understanding of his love. Yet he recalled the fragrant hue of the few minutes past, those tender lips, and felt . . . terrible. Not bothering about his father, he went straight upstairs.
Mr Ma was in quite a state. Ever since Mrs Wedderburn had turned him down, he’d been boiling with wrath inside, but up till now he’d had nowhere to spill it. Now that this opportunity had presented itself, he was determined to pick a fight with Ma Wei.
He drank all the wine that they’d left, and, his rage thus fortified, went upstairs to see his son.
Ma Wei was quite safe, though, having locked his door. Mr Ma knocked, to no avail, and stamped his feet in vain, unable to get in.
‘I shall see you tomorrow morning, Ma Wei. We must have a talk tomorrow! You have no business getting young ladies drunk, nor holding hands with them! Have you no shame? I shall see you tomorrow!’
Ma Wei uttered not a peep.
III
MR MA had a good and peaceful night’s sleep, and slept all his anger away. The next morning, his stomach felt very empty, and all he could think of was breakfast, so he forgot all about his reckoning with Ma Wei.
After breakfast, he adjourned to the study to smoke his pipe, and it never occurred to him that Ma Wei would actually seek him out. But in came his son, frowning, his face set, with not the slightest sign of meekness in his eyes.
Mr Ma summoned back his anger of the previous evening. I’d forgotten about it, he told himself, but he’s got the nerve actually to come and see me! Right then, we’ll have it out, you cocky young fellow!
Looking at his father, Ma Wei could see nothing that failed to evoke his loathing, and Mr Ma, for his part, had decided that his son merited a minimum of three hundred strokes with the military rod. Neither had ever hated anyone so much before, but today it were as if some gust of evil cosmic energy, blown in from beyond the skies, was making them more and more furious as they looked at one another.
‘Right, Dad,’ said Ma Wei, speaking first, ‘shall we talk things over then?’
‘Very well!’ Sucking on his pipe, Mr Ma squeezed out the words between his teeth.
‘We’ll discuss the business first, shall we?’ asked Ma Wei.
‘No, let’s discuss the young ladies first, shall we?’ Mr Ma gave his son a very acerbic look.
Ma Wei’s face went pale, and he smiled sardonically. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘young ladies and not so young ladies . . . As far as women are concerned, Dad, neither of us have a leg to stand on.’
Mr Ma gave a couple of coughs, and said nothing. His face slowly reddened.
‘Shall we discuss the business, then?’ asked Ma Wei.
‘Business – it’s always business! Anyone would think that I had a head made for nothing but business!’ said Mr Ma impatiently.
‘Why shouldn’t we mention business?’ asked Ma Wei, glaring at his father. ‘The shop’s our livelihood, our bread and butter. We’ve got to thrash it out properly today – once and for all!’
‘You, you young puppy! You dare to glare at me! You dare to tell me to my face what I should do! It’s my shop – you needn’t concern yourself. No need for you to trouble yourself about it!’ Mr Ma was really worked up. He’d never allowed himself to fly off the handle at Ma Wei before.
‘So, I’m not to trouble myself with it. Fine, then. We’ll see who does trouble himself about it, then! And anyone who does is a bl—’
Not wanting to swear, Ma Wei pushed open the door and marched out.
Once outside the house, Ma Wei wondered where he should go. If he didn’t go to the shop, he’d be wasting a day’s trade. And to go to the shop would irritate him no end, after his father’s words.
Suppressing his anger, he decided he’d have to go to the shop after all. All said and done, his father was still his father, and, anyhow, the business wasn’t just his father’s. If the shop collapsed, they’d both be doomed. Nothing else for it. Why did he have to have such a father?
London was a huge place, but Ma Wei felt very alone. There were seven million people in the city, but who among them was even aware of his existence? Who had any sympathy for him? His own father didn’t understand him, had even cursed him. Mary rejected him, and he hadn’t got any real friends who understood and appreciated his way of thinking. He felt terribly miserable and lonely, even though London was such a bustling, busy place. He had nowhere to go, even though there were four hundred cinemas in London, sixty-odd theatres, so many museums and art galleries, tens of thousands of shops and countless houses. He had nowhere to go. Everything looked so bleak and desolate. Everything he heard made him feel weepy. He’d lost the greatest treasure of humankind: love.
As he sat in the shop, listening to the noise of traffic in the streets and the sounds of the bells of St Paul’s, he knew that he was still in the thriving, prosperous city of London, yet he felt as wretched as a solitary wanderer in the Gobi Desert, or a marooned sailor on a desert island, with only a flock of wild birds for company.
He tried to shake himself, to suppress his melancholy. Go off, go dancing, go to the theatre, go and watch a game of football, go and see a film. Argh, I can’t leave this shop! No one to give me a hand, and nobody could care less about me than my father! Make a complete break with him? Don’t want that, though. Ignore him, but don’t go dancing or out on the town either. Instead, just get down to your study and work, and try to reap some knowledge and experience from the misery of it all. Easier said than done. Emotions often get the better of intellect. When you’re so worked up, you can’t get stuck into your reading.
If only Mary loved me, thought Ma Wei. If I could just kiss her once a day, hold her hand every day, be with her and chat with her, nothing else would bother me. I’d get stuck into my work and studying, and share all my happiness with her. Perhaps my dad’s thinking the same sort of thing, longing for Mrs Wedderburn. Well, sod him! Poor old Mary. She’s longing for Washington just like I long for her. The things people do for love. There’s never any system, never any certainty. The world’s just one big net, trapping us all. Everybody wants to break out, trying to slip through it, but we all end up dying in the net. There’s no way out. Human beings are feeble creatures, and our aspirations are useless!
No, aspirations are mighty things, made of iron and steel. Anybody can be a hero if only he hacks through hardship and the silk strands of emotion with th
e steel blade of willpower. Ma Wei bunched his fist, and gave his chest a couple of thumps. Get moving. Take action! Forward march! What’s loneliness? A figment of your emotions! What’s weakness? The lack of clear goals.
An old woman came in and asked Ma Wei whether he sold China tea. He forced a smile, and saw her out.
There’s business for you! Can’t blame my father for hating business. Do you sell tea? Bloody hell, no, we don’t!
Li Tzu-jung’s the only happy person I know, thought Ma Wei. He looks at things as they are, just the tiny bits in front of his nose, and ignores everything else, and as a result he hasn’t got a care or worry. He’s like a lion that exerts itself as much to catch a deer as to catch a rabbit, and is equally pleased with either. As longs as it catches something, whether it’s big or small doesn’t matter.
Li Tzu-jung’s a giant character because he’s able to create a world of his own. In that world there’s only work, no ideals; only men and women, no love; only material things, no illusions; colours but no fine arts. He’s happy, though, and anybody who can manage to be happy is a hero.
Ma Wei didn’t see eye to eye with Li Tzu-jung, but he greatly admired and respected him. He wished he could be like him, but it was no good, he could never do it.
‘Hello, Ma Wei!’ shouted Alexander outside the window, his voice making the glass tremble. ‘Where’s you father?’
He opened the door, almost pushing it off its hinges, and came in. His nose was exceptionally red, and the smell of beer on his breath was like that from an open keg. He wore a new reddish-grey overcoat, and, as he stood there, he looked the image of a small mountain at sunset.
‘My father’s not here yet. Why?’ Ma Wei shook Alexander’s big hand. Alexander’s thumb was every bit as big as Ma Wei’s wrist.
‘All right, then I’ll give this to you, eh.’ Alexander pulled out ten one-pound notes, and, as he handed them to Ma Wei, said, ‘He told me to put some money on a couple of horses for him. One horse won, and the other lost. This is the balance of what I’ve still got to give him.’