Bi Feiyu - Three Sisters

Everyone knew that Fenghua hadn’t really meant it, that pain and anger had made her lose her temper, but that was not what Yuyang was thinking. Through her teary eyes, she finally saw through Fenghua.

What made her assume that it was Yuyang? Why had she thought that Yuyang had sought revenge? She had something to hide, which meant that she had written the slanderous letter.

Yuyang managed to force back her tears as the corners of her mouth curved upward, almost as if she were smiling.

Very well, Pang Fenghua, very well, Yuyang thought to herself as she let go of Pang’s foot, turned, and left the room without a word.

Fenghua was frightened because she had slapped Yuyang for no justifiable reason. Yuyang might look like an open book and be easy to get along with, but it was hard to say whether or not she’d report her. Fenghua was also unsettled by the look in Yuyang’s eyes and her smirk, so she hobbled over to the homeroom teacher’s room that evening, where she burst out crying the moment she saw him.

After hearing her out, he sighed.

“It’s all my fault,” he said with a look of torment. “I’ve spoiled you.” Then he added, “How could you have done that?”

That effectively brought a halt to their conversation. With neither of them saying anything, the room was quiet except for the buzzing of the transformer in the fluorescent light. Fenghua kept her head lowered and picked at her fingernails. Her teacher was too fond of her to sit and watch her suffer, so he reached out for her hand, which he examined, front and back, before he said with a smile, “I didn’t realize you could be so ferocious.”

That stopped her tears; she retreated, pulled her hand back, and held it behind her. She swayed uneasily as she bit her lower lip and looked ashamed. With a stern look he said, “Don’t do that again. Don’t ever—or I’ll slap you. ” He raised his hand threateningly, never expecting her to look up, take a step forward, cock her head, and push her face right up to him.

“Go ahead, slap me,” she said softly.

Caught off guard, he didn’t know what to do. His hand was suspended in midair.

“Do it.” Her eyes, only inches away, stared down at him. “You don’t dare. You don’t have the nerve, do you?”

His arm began to drop, but then he froze like a statue, and so did she. This was totally unexpected—for both of them—and it was torturous, for they both yearned for the next step though neither knew what that would be. They heard each other’s heavy breathing and felt the blood race through their veins as they breathed on each other like snorting horses.

What happened next took them both by surprise. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him; it looked impulsive, and yet it was completely natural. His lips fell on hers as she stumbled toward him, confused and not realizing what was happening. Neither had any experience doing this, so their kiss was awkward and rushed. It wasn’t anything like a real kiss; it was more like bumping lips together. They were frightened and yet dying to try it out, so after touching lips, they quickly separated.

But that touch was a lethal one—now there was no fear to stop them. They went ahead with the next kiss, a serious, proper one. Their lips seemed glued together, and before it was over, tears were streaming down the teacher’s face while Fenghua nearly fainted.

“My life is over,” he said, finally revealing what he’d been hiding in his heart.

Fenghua felt a sadness well up inside her, and she went limp. “Take me with you and we’ll die together,” she said with her eyes shut.

The paper-thin curtain separating them had finally been torn open to reveal a welcoming intimacy. They had been in love all along, a secret, private, heartbreaking love. But now the most important thing shifted from love and the expression of that love to something else, something they had to face and confront together: Their only hope for the future was to never let their love come to light.

The consequences of public exposure were unthinkable; that thought paralyzed them. They stared at each other, and the more they stared, the stranger the other one looked. Unable to gaze any longer and incapable of believing what they’d done, they nearly stopped breathing from the anxiety, as if they were in a minefield where any misstep could be fatal. Still breathing hard, the teacher listened at the window to make sure no one was within earshot.

“Do you understand?” he asked mournfully. She stared at him through teary eyes and nodded. How could she, his student, not understand? Not completely convinced, he said, “Tell me you understand.”

She burst out crying. “I do.”

Love is essential, but sometimes it is even more essential to hide and shun it so as to escape watchful eyes. They made a pact to stop seeing each other and to wait until she graduated. With their arms around each other, they gave voice to their love with unusual vows. Over and over they vowed to stay apart while fantasies filled their heads over what awaited them after her graduation. But they tried not to think about that, for the uncertainty brought only sadness.

Vows are loud and clear, firm and vigorous, but it doesn’t take much for them to become laughable or unrealistic. The teacher and Fenghua both forgot one thing: People who are in love cannot control their feelings. They simply couldn’t do it. It was as if their lives were in danger and they needed to be together every second of every day. So they continued to see each other, to shed endless tears, and to repeat their vows, as if they were meeting not because they missed each other but because they needed to review and reaffirm their promises.

“This is the last time, absolutely the last time,” they’d say, but it didn’t help. They felt that they were on the verge of insanity.

Fenghua’s eyes brightened like clear glass one moment and darkened like frosted glass the next, depending on whether they could meet. Try as she might to be calm and control herself, she couldn’t hide her abnormal behavior from Yuyang’s watchful eyes. Fenghua used every trick in the book to hide what was going on, but in the end it was all in vain. Yuyang knew what was going on in Fenghua’s life more thoroughly and in greater detail than Fenghua herself. Here is what Wang Yuyang recorded in her diary.

Wednesday: Pang Fenghua left the classroom at 8:27 P.M. and returned to the dorm at 9:10; she was sobbing under her blanket after lights-out.

Saturday: 4:42 P.M., the homeroom teacher and Pang Fenghua had a brief conversation in the hallway before going their separate ways. Pang Fenghua did not eat in the dining hall and did not return to the dorm until 9:32. At midnight, she turned on a flashlight to look at herself in the mirror.

Saturday: Pang Fenghua washed her hair at 6:10 P.M., left the room at 6:26, and did not return until 9:08. Her eyes were red as if she’d been crying.

Monday: Pang Fenghua complained of a headache during evening study period and asked to be excused, leaving the classroom at 7:19. She was not in the dorm room when study period was over; she returned at 9:11. Her spirits were high and she was very talkative. After getting into bed, she sang “The Waves in Honghu Chase Each Other” softly.

Saturday: Pang Fenghua washed her hair and brushed her teeth at 6:11 P.M. Left the room at 6:25; returned at 9:39.

Saturday: Pang Fenghua washed her hair and brushed her teeth at 6:02 P.M.; she left the room at 6:21. At 7:00 the homeroom teacher came to inspect the dorm, talking loudly at the door of Room 412, but he did not enter. He left at 7:08. Pang Fenghua returned at 9:41.

Sunday: Pang Fenghua was lost in thought in front of a mirror. She had a wound on her neck; it was oval in shape, like a human bite. Pang muttered to herself, “What lousy luck to be scraped by a branch.” She was lying; a scrape from a branch looks different.