Wang Anyi - The Song of Everlasting Sorrow

Those words were the equivalent of calling out “checkmate.” Both of them understood the significance of eating out together like that, but one of them had always refused to go. Times have changed, and the tables have turned; she, who had once refused, wished to go, while he, who had been so aggressive, now refused. He stood with his face toward the curtains for a moment before turning around and walking out.

As we have mentioned before, Long Legs was a god of the night, never returning to his lair until past midnight. One evening, after wrapping up his nightlife early but not feeling like going home, he decided to ride past Peace Lane and somehow found himself going in. Seeing the light on in Wang Qiyao’s window, he figured there must be people up there having a grand old time, and rode over toward the back alley with eager excitement. At that moment he saw someone getting off his bicycle outside the back door of her building. It was Old Colour. Long Legs was about to call out to him when he saw Old Colour unlock the door and head straight upstairs, quietly closing the door behind him. How could he have a key to Wang Qiyao ’ s building? Long Legs may have been naïve, but he wasn’t stupid; he knew better than to knock on the door, and instead turned around and rode out of the back alley. As he passed by the front on his way out, he looked up again at the window and saw that the light had already been turned off.

Looking down at his watch, Long Legs saw that it was midnight. There was not a single light on in Peace Lane and the apartment buildings threw a jagged silhouette against the curtain of darkness. It was a strange night. There was something mysterious about that night, even to someone as deeply embroiled in the city’s nightlife as Long Legs; it made him feel oppressed and somewhat perturbed. Strange demons seemed to have taken over the narrow night sky between the buildings, and the night air rang out with premonitions. Long Legs was suddenly struck by how distant and strange this city really was to him. In these streets, empty of cars and pedestrians, the traffic lights at the intersections changed from red to green to red again, as if controlled by some alien force. When an occasional pedestrian chanced on another, they were fearful and couldn’t wait to get away. The night was a massive net and Long Legs felt like a fish trapped inside it; no matter how hard he swam, he couldn’t escape. It was like something from a nightmare. But Long Legs was a man without a memory: every morning he would awaken and everything from the night before would disappear like clouds and mist. By the following evening he would be just as lovable and friendly as ever; it felt good to be together with his friends and even the neon lights were all practiced in singing and dancing.

However, that was back before the Spring Festival. On the second day of the Lunar New Year, when he was at Wang Qiyao’s apartment watching Old Colour and Zhang Yonghong parrying with each other, the incident he had witnessed never even crossed his mind. That New Year was a tough time for Long Legs; the day after the dinner, he disappeared. Everyone thought that he had gone to Hong Kong to see his cousin — Zhang Yonghong was expecting him to bring back the most fashionable outfits for her. But what was really up with Long Legs? Bundled up in a factory-issue cotton overcoat, his hands drawn back inside his sleeves, he was, in fact, braving the cold in the passenger seat of a three-wheel pedicab on his way to an aquatic products supplier at Hongze Lake. The cars on the highway were all trying to overtake each other; their glaring headlights, swinging this way and that, shone harshly on the night traveler curled up in the back of the pedicab. Blaring in his ears were the sounds of truck engines mixed with the sharp blasts of horns; occasionally they passed by pedicabs broken down by the side of the road, the occupants standing next to their vehicles with a blank look on their faces.

That was indeed another world. Between unbounded heaven and the limitless earth, human beings crawled like small insects, and could be crushed by a single step. When one finds himself in such circumstances, it is easy to act out of desperation. The aquatic products business was exceedingly risky and uncertain, but Long Legs went ahead and threw in his last bit of money. In doing so, he effectively burned all of his bridges — there was no turning back now. If he failed, how could he ever go back to Shanghai to face his friends? How could he face Zhang Yonghong?

At this very time, the story about his trip to Hong Kong was spreading all over Shanghai. You know what happens once people start talking — everyone tells their friends, their friends tell their friends, and before you know it the story gets blown completely out of proportion. People started to say that Long Legs was never coming back: his cousin was sponsoring him to emigrate. Others said that he had gone away to claim his inheritance and that even if he did come back, he wouldn’t be the same person. Zhang Yonghong began to grow anxious and silently counted the days since his departure. She couldn’t help but feel uneasy when she thought about how old she was; she was already well past marrying age. For the past year or so she had set her sights on this one man — he was her sole candidate. The more she worried about her future, the more she missed Long Legs. With no news from him, and the rumors flying all around, she could no longer sit still. She decided to visit Wang Qiyao to try to take her mind off the matter. Just as she was about to open the back door to Wang Qiyao’s building, Old Colour stepped out.

“Wang Qiyao’s not home?” she asked.

Instead of answering, he asked whether she had time to get a bite to eat. Zhang Yonghong figured she might as well find distraction at the restaurant and went along with him. They didn’t go far, just over to Nocturnal Shanghai in the adjacent longtang, where they found a quiet and secluded table in a corner. Zhang Yonghong thought that Old Colour would ask after Long Legs and was wondering what she should say, but to her surprise he never even broached the subject. Deep down her gratitude was mixed with a feeling of being cheated, as if he had let her get off easy in a game of chess. His magnanimity, however, only made her all the more determined to bring up Long Legs. She said that he had been incredibly busy since arriving in Hong Kong and had only had time to send one postcard.

“Has Long Legs gone to Hong Kong?” Old Colour asked.

It was only then that she realized Old Colour hadn’t even heard about the trip. She cursed herself for assuming too much and felt a bit awkward. Old Colour, however, took no notice, and simply asked her what they should order. As they were talking, someone wove past the other tables toward them and stopped in front of them. They looked up and saw Wang Qiyao. Her hair was freshly washed and neatly done up in a tight bun. She was wearing light makeup and had on a light green cotton jacket, and looked exceptionally youthful.

“What a coincidence!” she chirped brightly, “running into you two here!”

Although Zhang Yonghong didn’t understand all that was going on, she sensed that something was wrong. Her heart pounded. Old Colour was barely able to maintain his composure; the color drained from his face and only after a pause did he manage to say, “Please have a seat.”

“That’s okay, I wouldn’t want to disturb the two of you.”

With that she sat down at a small table for one by the window in the opposite corner. As she sat down she turned to them and smiled. And so the three of them sat at two different tables; soon other customers came in and started filling up the restaurant, blocking their view of each other. But it was no use: they had eyes for only one thing — even with all the people there, not a single gesture or movement at the other table across the room escaped their eyes.