Wang Anyi - The Song of Everlasting Sorrow

As Weiwei took the trousseau bundle from her mother’s hands, she felt as if a great fortune had suddenly been bestowed on her and contentment filled her heart. She went through the articles on a daily basis, examining them and discussing them with her mother. Whenever they suspected that a fabric might not be what it was alleged to be, they would conduct a little test. To see if something was pure wool, they would tease out a small clump and, setting it on fire, watch the rate at which it burned. They looked like children as they huddled together, gazing intently at the flames.

Zhang Yonghong also came over to inspect Weiwei’s trousseau. As she looked the items over, she secretly compared them to her own trousseau. At some point unknown to the others, Zhang Yonghong had started to put aside half the money she normally spent on clothes for her trousseau. Although her boyfriends came and went like fleeting clouds, her trousseau grew with the passing months and years as steadily as if vows of everlasting love had been exchanged. It was only when accumulating items for her trousseau that Zhang Yonghong could faintly make out her future, a future that otherwise utterly bewildered her. One of the items in Weiwei’s trousseau was a bed net made of beaded gauze; Wang Qiyao spread it out with the help of Zhang Yonghong, who took the other end. When Weiwei crawled inside, she really did look like a bride through the sheer netting. As Wang Qiyao and Zhang Yonghong exchanged glances, a feeling of commiseration welled up between them, and they quickly looked away.

Then it was time for Weiwei to have new clothes made. Wang Qiyao picked out some woolen suit material in magenta and asked Madame Yan for a good tailor. The day the tailor came over to take the measurements, he was besieged with vociferous opinions about the design from Wang Qiyao and Zhang Yonghong, as well as Madame Yan, who had brought him over.

Thoroughly exasperated, the tailor demanded, “Excuse me, but who’s the tailor here, you or me?”

They all laughed. “Okay, okay! We’ll keep quiet from now on!”

But before long they were at it again. Weiwei, the only one who remained silent, stood with demure composure as they maneuvered her around — that day she was the star of the show. The lead role had fallen into her lap and she accepted the part in a muddleheaded way. You could say that she had no clue as to what marriage really was, but storybook romances with happy endings always seem to fall into the laps of people like that; the more one pursues the perfect marriage, the more elusive it becomes. This is what they mean when they say, “Follow love, and it will flee; flee love, and it will follow thee.” They also spent a great deal of time trying to figure out what shoes would match the magenta suit. At first it seemed logical that she should wear white shoes, but these made her look top-heavy and somewhat provincial. Black was the next color they tried, but although the proportions seemed right, the somber color had a deadening effect that took away from her gorgeous outfit. After racking their brains and running all over Shanghai, they finally found a pair of leather shoes in a slightly deeper shade of magenta: that did the trick, and they looked perfect on her. Next came the issue of hairstyle. Wang Qiyao had the final say here. She suggested that Weiwei get a permanent wave one month before the wedding, then go back for a trim every other week after that. By the time of the wedding, her hair would look naturally curly and no one would be able to tell that it had been permed, and it would look just right whether put up or hanging down.

By that point Weiwei had already tried on her bridal gown in front of the mirror countless times. Each time Wang Qiyao couldn’t help but be secretly surprised at how even an average-looking girl could be transformed into a glowing beauty as her wedding approached. This was that magic moment when the petals open up and all the beauty in the world steps aside to clear a path for the flower in full bloom. It is the instant at which a woman becomes a real woman; everything leading up to this is preparation for this day, when it all comes to fruit. The beauty and essence of womanhood are concentrated at this turning point.

Next it was time to sew the wedding quilt. Wang Qiyao went over to Madame Yan’s and said to her, “You know, it would be bad luck for a woman like me to embroider a pair of mandarin ducks on Weiwei’s wedding quilt. Madame Yan, you’ve been blessed with both a son and a daughter and have had a life of great fortune. I would be so grateful if Weiwei could enjoy even a fraction of the good fortune you have enjoyed.”

Madame Yan didn’t need any more convincing; she immediately ordered the nanny to come along with her to Wang Qiyao’s apartment. There she had the nanny help her spread out the quilt as she began her needlework. Wang Qiyao watched from a distance, but didn’t lift a finger to help, even when Madame Yan asked her to thread a needle. “Madame Yan, you know I mustn’t touch it. .” she said.

“You finally found yourself an excuse not to help!” exclaimed Madame Yan, who nevertheless felt sorry for her, but refrained from saying anything further in front of the Shaoxing nanny. Instead she simply lowered her head and went hard at sewing. The nanny left around noon and Madame Yan stayed on to dinner. Smelling the aroma from the kitchen, she suddenly felt as if the clock had turned back and she was transported to a scene from many years ago. All kinds of old secrets rushed up, but they were the kinds that could never be broached. Once dinner was on the table and the two women were sitting face to face, Madame Yan cut to the chase. “Weiwei’s getting married. . Don’t you think you should let her father know?”

The blow was cushioned by a lapse of more than twenty years and the question didn’t come across as abrupt.

“Her father’s dead,” Wang Qiyao said with a smile. Then she added, “He died in Siberia.”

The two of them laughed so hard they almost spit out their food.

“You should get yourself a new dress to wear on Weiwei’s wedding day,” Madame Yan said.

“For someone as old as I am, what good is a new dress?” replied Wang Qiyao.

“Then maybe you should take a hint from Weiwei and do something to make yourself into a whole new you!” With that, they both laughed again. Once their giddiness had passed, Madame Yan turned serious. “Actually, I was partly serious about what I said before. Once Weiwei leaves you’ll be lonely. You should find yourself a companion!”

“And where should I look?” Wang Qiyao asked.

Madame Yan finished the embroidery on the quilt, marking the end to yet another day; Weiwei’s wedding was now another day closer. As the Spring Festival drew near, everyone got busy preparing for the New Year, to see off the old and welcome in the new, all of which added to the gaiety surrounding the wedding. Xiao Lin was on winter break, but had signed up for an English class. His father had an old friend in America who had already agreed to act as his sponsor. Xiao Lin was planning to finish out his sophomore year in Shanghai before going on to the United States to complete his studies. Getting married was one step in his plan to go to America — it was much easier to get an entry visa as a married man. The idea made Wang Qiyao nervous. But not Weiwei — she had the opposite reaction, and was even more excited about Xiao Lin going to the States than she was about getting married. Sooner or later, everyone gets married, but not everyone gets to go to America — never mind the prospect of Xiao Lin one day taking her there; just the thought of his going was exciting enough.

Because Xiao Lin was slated to leave, they had a short-term perspective when it came to some of the wedding preparations. Their bridal chamber was set up in a small west-facing room in his parents’ apartment, and none of their furniture was new. But marriage always makes people happy; no matter how often this old ceremony is repeated, it never loses its flair. Whatever time Xiao Lin didn’t spend cramming English he spent with Weiwei — shopping, eating out in Western restaurants, or going to the movies. Knowing that marriage was right around the corner, they couldn’t help crossing the line once in a while, but that was okay. Just how far could they really go standing in dark doorways or in the corner of the public park at night?