by Lu Min
Sometimes the 67 year-old Lan Ying wished she really were Xiaoqing's grandmother. That way there'd be a thirty or forty something, and they'd be a transitional stage from mother to daughter, mediating and adjusting things…
This estrangement between mother and daughter wasn't a life-long separation, nor was it a final goodbye. But no matter how hard she tried, Lan Ying just couldn't stand it. She even felt that when Xiaoqing was right in front of her, she was further away than Danqing's graveyard plot. What could she do other than Xiaoqing's cooking and laundry washing? If Lan Ying and Xiaoqing could have ever had a heart to heart talk, would that necessarily be good? Look at Ma Jiajue who killed four people, one after the other; look at the fifteen year-old Northeastern teen who stabbed his mother forty-six times…Lan Ying loved reading newspapers and watching TV, and the children in the reports had her scared stiff. She couldn't come running to embrace the real Xiaoqing with her whole heart, otherwise she'd fall flat on her face, get mud up her nose and spill blood all over the ground. Wouldn't she end up losing Xiaoqing, just as she lost Danqing? Or maybe she already did. Thus it was better to avoid the important and dwell on the trivial. It was better to express concerns for her well-being in small talk dealing in nothing but concerns for personal safety and health. Aha! It's a sure-fire way to keep everyone relaxed.
Fortunately focusing on health and maintaining it was actually a mainstream thing in those days, and all Lan Ying had to do to surround herself with the newest information was scan over a newspaper or flip on the radio…The daily danger index for catching cold, eight glasses of water every day, the cholesterol-reducing properties of corn, having salty foods in the morning and sweet ones at night, recipes preventing "the three highs'" 36, the ten eating and drinking myths, the latest report on grain oil quality inspection…Lan Ying originally thought she was the only one forced to learn these things, but she was wrong-there were always millions just like her giving up on the heavy spirit, the complicated, inner mind and challenging conversation. Just by focusing on health and longevity, focusing on eating drinking defecation and urination, rolling around in oil salt sauce vinegar and being tall short fat or skinny, the methods to get pudgy and white were virtually the meaning of life.
The Uncrossable Street
[1]
Lu Zhongsheng almost lost track of Si Jia when she and "Violent Aesthetics" started living together, and three years had passed since then.
Was there any gossip? Yes, but it could practically be skipped over and ignored. Why would anyone be interested in what happened between them? Once the door closed, they were just two single women living together-who cared what the nature of their relationship was? Was it sufficiently novel and intriguing? No, it wasn't. It was completely lacking in verifiable substance. Anything more aggressive for fresh gossip material would've indeed amounted to nothing more than three hours…and moreover all they did was pass the time, the never-changing three meals a day and one night's sleep in concert, all of which could happen behind open doors and displayed with full transparency.
But Si Jia was deeply thankful: My life has really changed-illuminated and at the dining table, it's respectable. Food gets reheated when it goes cold, sneezes are attended to, someone waits for the late one coming home, and every phone call is answered-just like a real family. Moreover, it isn't just your average family…There was no torment, suspicion or jealousy mixed with love and hate, no repressive grudge holding for issues long past, no duty to honor parents, either, nor the knotty, conventional annoyance of educating the next generation. They were able to relax and share to their heart's desire in love, anger, tenderness and sentimentality-the most wonderful and happy parts of life. Books, music, disks, discussion, gourmet food, exercise, beautification, they never spared the details, putting everything right on the table, carefully chewing it all between their teeth…When society pursued speed and passion, the two of them enjoyed calm and leisure; when society was riled up about emotions and physical bodies, the two of them were living a richly meaningful life. They had only to close the door and gratify themselves, focusing simply on the pure taste of bread and water.
Her life then, when compared to any previous period, was ever-relaxed, ever-pure, and ever-sincere. Si Jia never lived like that before. Was it even real life? It was apparently dunked in honey and soaked in milk. How many years of fright and deep worry were all massaged flat and turned into smooth, shiny satin?
As "Violent Aesthetics" recommended, Si Jia started slowly adjusting her work and sleep schedules. Daylight hours were for taking walks and going shopping, and the night time was for eating, drinking, and going to sleep. It didn't take long before she found a day-time hobby, a few coworkers not too far away, and a few friends she could get along with. She started wearing jeans and sneakers, and "Violent Aesthetics" took her out on the weekends to go hiking or play ball…like caring for a body just starting to heal and getting a long-term plan, "Violent Aesthetics" pulled Si Jia away from the computer, step by step, out from behind the curtains, over to a normal life to rest, and amid the bustling crowd. Living with strict regularity and ample sunlight and oxygen rejuvenated Si Jia's complexion…What past? What pain? Forget it. They're not worth mentioning nor remembering anymore. Si Jia smiled like she did at the Christmas dance, and in the embrace of "Violent Aesthetics", she held her chin up with an admiring smile.
But only Si Jia knew that deep in her heart, her smile wasn't so relaxed and unbridled. She understood that there was an "intimacy" issue between her and "Violent Aesthetics" that lingered untouched and unresolved. No one knew what would to happen with them, because she and "Violent Aesthetics" were, after all, different, and in their character, not of the same ilk…
[2]
There was another issue left untouched in Si Jia's heart-the one thing she was lying to "Violent Aesthetics" about. Although it wasn't any kind of big secret, she decided it thusly. Si Jia wanted it to remain completely to herself. All this time, there was a pair of eyes from someone who was watching her from a distance. They weren't threatening, and they were even benevolent. They were always there, but they could only watch.
Starting back at Dayang Village Gated Community, every day at dusk and at the same time, Si Jia would always see him there when she went out the front gate. It always was very brief and an effort just to get a moment's glance, and when Si Jia turned the street corner, they left each other's field of vision…
Is it possible he wasn't watching her, and that he was waiting for someone else, watching someone else? Many times she'd seen his face in a brief moment as she walked past, but when she turned around the unknown man across the street was gone. In that case, he was indeed there just to see her, she guessed. But Si Jia didn't dare jump to conclusions up until she moved into the other apartment. In only a week after moving in, she saw him across the street again. And though it wasn't every day, she'd surely see him every Wednesday, stealthily appearing and disappearing.
Si Jia confirmed it. He's watching me. He's been watching me for so many years-but why?
Si Jia turned the tables and tried thinking from his perspective. He was an aged, white-haired man, pants ironed straight, and he'd have a blue, long-handled umbrella on rainy days and an old cap in the summer. Though separated by the street, Si Jia tried her hardest to discern the look in the man's eyes. Without a doubt, she didn't recognize him. But it was strange. Even in just that one look, there was somehow a feeble hum of resonance, a worrying familiarity, upon contact. The way he stood without moving, looking old, helpless, and unable to help himself was particularly striking. Distanced by a street swirling with car exhaust, Si Jia remained center of attention.
Si Jia had a palpable reaction, and her scalp inexplicably scrunched up as if she'd heard a song's melody from far away, making her shake with joy…She clearly felt that this old man had a relationship to her that eclipsed that of her to the common masses. It felt like the loss of family, intimate yet miserable with something like a dimly flickering fi
re, intermittently flaring up and dying in the wind…
Who is he, and why is he here?
Si Jia suppressed the undulations deep in her heart, and in the gaze of the old man, she turned her head slightly to the side, her line of vision glancing over the withered, old man…Oh! She probably knew who he was-she was sure. It had to be him. When she'd thought to that point, it was like pulling up a thread from a ball of yarn, so she suddenly stopped and didn't dare keep thinking. She knew that if she kept going, firing just a few more neurons, she'd have surely figured it out…and actually, she could already sense it…
God, forgive me-what a disgrace I am! For so many years I've been pretending my only debt is to Danqing. I couldn't imagine what his family's life must be like-I'm too ashamed to see them. How many times has life trampled over me and I start missing Danqing? I want to go visit them, but I won't. I wouldn't dare stare my sins straight in the face, because I know they're a debt far too heavy to repay…I'm just a coward, a turtle with its head in its shell!
…But could I ever face them? Just let me continue in my confusion and reclusion. I'll play along to the best of my ability, and I'll let him stare at me however he wants for however long. If he needs me to, I'll let my back shadow melt away under his eyes…Maybe this barely tangible consolation, this vaguely-existing concern, is the most appropriate way to handle things. It closely resembles how each of us has our own understanding and place to vent all our misery…They know me, and I know them, too…It's in perfect balance. So we're not alone in our suffering-are we? There'll always be someone there who knows how we live, striving to embrace the graveled ground, crawling through one compromise after the other…
[3]
Every time the hour arrived to exit at her regular time at dusk on Wednesday, she'd be a bit unsettled and filled with nervous expectations that only she could enjoy…It turned into a little ritual for Si Jia, like a waving a beige, flag-like handkerchief. When "Violent Aesthetics" stayed at her side, she could only quietly raise and slowly lower the handkerchief in her own heart.
When the bitter, chilling winds of winter or when a summer night was steamed up from a full day of lovable summer sun, Si Jia was also worried for that onlooker of hers. Could he make it considering how old he was and how many buses he probably had to change? Would he be late? Si Jia would look out from her apartment window before going out. If she saw him already standing across the street, often with something in his hand as his messy, white hair blew in the wind, she'd go downstairs according to plan. She'd exit the complex's gate at a slightly slower than normal speed with a mildly exhibitionist turn to the left, and wait till she'd turned the street corner before resuming her normal pace. Sometimes, for probably traffic or health reasons, he'd be late and his normal standing place was completely void. Si Jia would then putz around in her apartment, stopping and going in front of the window and ignoring the confused questions and incitations of "Violent Aesthetics", until Si Jia would see the old man somewhat ashamed as he worriedly and hurriedly got in position. He'd look upon the complex's gate with an undecided look, and then in a burst of relief, she'd go straight down the stairs…
Whenever "Violent Aesthetics" had something else to do, Si Jia would enter Lu Zhongsheng's field of vision alone, unable to restrain herself as warm tears would suddenly come to her eyes. She almost wanted to cross the street. Truly, they were not a world apart, but they were apparently so close they could practically brush shoulders. She was only a few steps from meeting that man face to face. They could talk then, and even if it were just about inconsequential topics, who knows? Perhaps she could help him all the way back into his home, pour him a cup of tea, take a break…
One day, in an exceedingly gloomy, chilly and profound autumn, strong winds blew in and it was very cold. She'd already walked part of the old man's path-Si Jia didn't know where she got the passion and courage to do it, but she hastily turned into a small convenience store and picked out a beige towel, made of acrylic and rayon, for only twenty seven yuan 37. She quickly bought it and ran out with excitement to the place under a tree where the old man normally stood…
The old man was already going home and was nearing a bus station not far away. He walked slowly, leaves rustling under his feet. Si Jia only needed to speed up two steps to catch up to him.
But Si Jia could no longer move her leaden feet. Holding onto that coarse towel, she suddenly felt annoyed and inferior. Her sincerity was as cheap as the towel. What good was it? Her sinful past was as grave as Tai Mountain, yet the towel was as fickle as a feather.
Stop. Don't be so silly, so credulous. Do you really think they'd welcome you? You've ruined their family, and further, look at who you are now-apparently living with another woman for vague reasons. How would you explain to them the "intimacy" at the dance? Aren't you making light of human life?…However, I'm sure he needs me. Doesn't he? Otherwise why would he be watching me like this, watching for all these years? Damn it-muster up some courage, girl. Go up to him and give him the scarf. It's just that simple. Then leave without saying anything…Si Jia was struggling with herself…
A bus pulled up to the curb and drove away. The old man got in and was gone. This robust time frame exploded, and in a "pop" it deflated like a balloon. It was over and gone. It was her first time (and last time) trying.
There were pedestrians walking up and down the sidewalk as usual, but Si Jia suddenly saw it as completely void. She took the acrylic towel and casually fixed it around her neck, letting the course fibers scratch into her neck. She turned back a few steps to rest where the old man normally stood, and she squatted down without a sound like a feral cat, wanting to stay at the old man's post for a while.
The dust danced, and fallen leaves bustled. She gazed along the old man's path of vision to the other side of the street like looking straight at herself coming out. Heavens, it's so close! For so many years, it was only a street in the human world…
Si Jia's eyes swelled up, yet they were soon void of any understanding. No. If it were as simple as crossing the street, he'd have done it long ago. Why is it worth the trouble to pace around with googly eyes? He must have his own idea about things…The man and woman could not yet meet; if they met, something surely would have "broken", and the situation would have been unbearable. They surely could not have faced each other; as long as they hadn't reached a dead end and could hold their own, they had no choice but to keep muddling through their lives. It was their last line of defense, transparent, infinitely close yet forever unreachable…
Ah, it was the right thing to do! I was right not to catch up to him today. Si Jia had to avoid rash behavior on this issue at all costs. Rudeness in detail was a rudeness to fate. She flatly refused to take the initiative. She was waiting for that father, waiting for his preparation long in the brewing, waiting for the special and apt opportunity, till the moment he'd thought up the best way to put it and, slightly shivering, stepped over onto the crosswalk with vehicles roaring around him.
[4]
However Lu Zhongsheng had more or less decided that he'd never actually visit Si Jia. He never thought about crossing the road again…Lu Zhongsheng had just discovered that Si Jia was probably a lesbian, and he was unable to face the fact.
In the beginning he didn't notice Si Jia's partner and hadn't even started to connect the dots. It was very hard to connect them at first for a man of that kind of mindset. Naturally it had occurred to him that Si Jia would have friends, and a long time passed without him noticing anything peculiar. Although he was used to seeing Si Jia moonlighting and living a passionless, single life, he still wished she had some friendly contacts-but it seemed she never had them. This aspect of Si Jia pained Lu Zhongsheng, and it was hard for him to watch her in that almost sickly, holed-up state.
Not long after, he became aware of a woman who loved wearing a dark suit and often visited Si Jia's home. She'd buy a few things for her, help her open the curtains and windows, hang laundry out to dry, and accompany
Si Jia out the door at dusk. This greatly assuaged Lu Zhongsheng. That's the way! Good for you. Surely people need human contact.
Lu Zhongsheng evinced a rare mental vitality, wondering if it would comfort him in the same way if Si Jia made friends with a man instead. No, he'd surely have reacted with despondence and indifference…It was an apparently strange attitude. It seemed like he got jealous or selfish. Could it be that Lu Zhongsheng was possessed by Danqing, and he was keeping Si Jia's love life under surveillance for his son? How ridiculous!
Thus, it didn't matter to Lu Zhongsheng. He thought her having a lesbian partner was wonderful, and he gave his full approval. It was especially after they started living together, month after month, that Lu Zhongsheng could discern various minute improvements in Si Jia. She started putting on silk, color scarves, putting her hair up in a casual pony-tail, and talking lightly into her cell phone with a smile as she walked. She started greeting the old man on watch in the porter's room…Any of these things would have been impossible for Si Jia in times past. The most important change was when Si Jia started coming and going from the complex on the same schedule as everyone else. Lu Zhongsheng saw her at the same times as before, but the schedule was reversed. She was like the others, with a commoner's sensibility and sociability, carrying vegetables and fruits in her hand…
Was it a good thing? It was apparently very good in theory. He'd always wished Si Jia would have an unimportant and normal life, whiling the hours away like regular folks. But it was odd that when he'd really seen her that way, Lu Zhongsheng felt enervated and exceedingly unsettled. He was standing across the street and looking at Si Jia as usual, but somewhere in his mind (in a place whose existence he denied), he hoped to see the old Si Jia-a skinny, cold, loner wearing unusual clothes and walking the path less traveled…