Wang Anyi - The Song of Everlasting Sorrow

Zhang Yonghong’s visits were especially welcome during these tense moments. With a third party present, they could get down from the tightrope for a while. The three of them could talk about almost anything, and no matter how far off the topic was, Wang Qiyao and Old Colour always seemed to be on the same page. With Zhang Yonghong there as an outsider, they became one — her lack of a direct connection to them seemed to strengthen their connection to each other. In this way a tacit understanding arose between them. The addition of Zhang Yonghong seemed to solve the quandary they were facing about whether to move forward or step back — with her there, they could simply drag out the status quo. Gradually Zhang Yonghong became an essential part of their relationship.

When Old Colour invited Wang Qiyao out to dinner yet again, she couldn’t refuse because Zhang Yonghong was also included. She brought Long Legs, and the four of them went to the Western restaurant on the ground floor of the Jinjiang Hotel for steak. Even though Long Legs only came along at the last minute, he was the most gregarious one at the table and so took center stage. He knew all the latest slang and told them all the popular gossip, recounting all kinds of amazing stories — old news to Old Colour and Zhang Yonghong but a revelation for Wang Qiyao. She had no idea that there were people in the city who made their livelihood out of burning, killing, looting, and pillaging, living their days amid the glimmer of knives and pools of blood. She listened in a state suspended between belief and disbelief, pretending that what she was listening to was just tall tales.

Dinner ended in a flutter of excitement as Long Legs insisted on paying the bill, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Old Colour tried to pay, but gave up after a few attempts. Zhang Yonghong couldn’t care less about who paid. However, Wang Qiyao and Old Colour were not happy, feeling that they had just eaten off the wrong plate. They had intended to use Zhang Yonghong as an agent to help them resolve a long outstanding issue between them; but not only had they been thwarted, they were now left with their feelings still dangling. Zhang Yonghong and her boyfriend hopped in a cab to go to their next engagement as soon as they left the hotel. The other two were left standing on the street and, for a moment, didn’t know where they should go. It was only after they had walked for some time along the covered corridor outside the hotel that they became less awkward.

“I really wanted to treat you to dinner this time,” said Old Colour, “But I still didn’t get to.”

Wang Qiyao laughed. “I guess you weren’t sincere enough!”

“Then I’d better keep trying. . ” With those words he put his hands in his pockets and extended his elbow toward Wang Qiyao, who slipped her arm through his. The shady streets of Maoming Road are a place of endless romance. You say those trees lining the street are there to provide shade from the heat? You’re wrong. They are there to create a dreamscape, a world where people are shrouded in shadow, insulated from the brilliant light on the outside.

Zhang Yonghong and Long Legs managed to keep their friendship up for quite some time. One reason for this was that he was always willing to spend money on her, and another, that a suitable replacement had yet to show up. According to Long Legs, his grandfather was the famous Soy Sauce King known throughout Shanghai and, as his only grandson, Long Legs was the legal heir to his estate. Grandfather, he said, had soy sauce factories all over Southeast Asia and a few in Europe and America. Besides the soy sauce business, the old man held interests in a rubber plantation, farmland, even a virgin forest; he had his own private dock on the Mekong River and his company stock sold on Wall Street in New York. It sounded like a story right out of the Arabian Nights.

Zhang Yonghong didn’t take it seriously, but one thing she knew was true — he did have money. The way Long Legs threw his money around was astonishing; Zhang Yonghong had to adjust the way she looked at money by several digits. Unable to control her excitement, she would occasionally describe their extravagant spending habits to Wang Qiyao. When Wang Qiyao asked her where all that money was coming from, she repeated the fabulous story Long Legs had told her. In retelling the story, she herself began to believe it. But Wang Qiyao didn’t. She suspected something was amiss but didn’t want to be the one to break the news to Zhang Yonghong; she had had the opportunity to observe Long Legs and noted several things that didn’t sit right with her.

There were always people like Long Legs who hustled their way throughout Shanghai. Most of them didn’t have a normal job, yet somehow they got all their basic needs pretty well taken care of. These were the men one saw drinking and making merry in the lobbies of fancy hotels during the day. There’s no need to mention what they did in the evenings — without them, the city’s nightlife would never get off the ground. But don’t make the mistake of supposing that all they ever did was have fun, because they were also working to earn their keep. They did such things as playing tennis with foreigners and giving motorcycleriding lessons. They helped travel agencies to arrange tours and, while they were at it, made sure to exchange some foreign currency on the side. To establish these relationships with foreigners on the streets and in hotel lobbies, they usually spoke some English, at least enough for simple greetings, exchanging money, filling in as a tour guide, and making small talk. The international nature of their work tended to broaden their horizons, and eventually they came to display a level of sophistication in their manners and dress that was right up there with the rest of the world. They were a group of the most liberal-minded of men, completely unrestrained in their style. In Shanghai society, there were all kinds of necessary but minor details that people were too busy to deal with: that’s where these men came in — to fill in the gaps. They were perhaps the busiest of all; virtually all the cabs in Shanghai relied on them for their business, as did the restaurants. How prosperous the city appeared — and all thanks to them!

Long Legs was six foot two and had a long thin face that caved in somewhat in the middle, slightly protruding front teeth, and eyeglasses. He looked extremely thin, but was actually fairly well built. His buck teeth gave him a bit of a lisp, but this didn’t really get in the way; it actually made him sound more refined. He was quite the talker and would open up to everyone, whether he knew them or not, which always left people with a warm impression. He loved to treat friends to dinner; so much so that when he ran into old friends at a restaurant he would sometimes settle up for them when paying his own bill. Whenever he took Zhang Yonghong out shopping, he made sure that they went for the best, and he never showed up empty-handed at Wang Qiyao’s, always remembering to bring along a house gift. His usual gift was most elegant — a dozen roses. On cold winter days he bought roses flown in from the south at ten yuan a stem. Wang Qiyao’s apartment was unheated and the flowers would wither before long.

Long Legs was so busy running around that he never had time to spend the money he was making, so he ended up spending most of it on others while he wore the same old pair of dirty blue jeans all year round. His sneakers were also dirty and beat up. But it was part of his style not to pay attention to himself. This was especially true in winter: he’d rather stick with his accustomed single layer and huddle up, his nose blue with the cold, than put on a thick winter jacket. Even so, he would still be in high spirits, always laughing and joking. Happiness was in his nature — he liked noisy, festive occasions with a lot of people around, and when others were having a good time, he had a good time. In order to create a fun atmosphere he was even willing to make himself the butt of people’s jokes; he didn’t think twice about putting himself in what other people would have thought of as an awkward situation. The world doesn’t have many people like that, now, does it? Over time, he slowly won over everyone’s hearts. Whenever his friends went out, they always made sure to bring him along, and when he wasn’t around they would instantly start looking for him: “Where’s Long Legs? Where’d he go?”