Wang Anyi - The Song of Everlasting Sorrow

“It’s been a long time since everybody got together. What do you say about having a party this Saturday night?” she suggested.

“Sounds great!” Long Legs readily assented. “I haven’t really seen any of my friends since getting back from Hong Kong, so this is a good opportunity to see everybody.”

“I’ll take care of the food, and you can be in charge of inviting the people,” Wang Qiyao said.

Long Legs agreed and headed for the door. When he got to the stairs, he suddenly turned around. “Should we invite Old Colour?”

“Why ever not?” asked Wang Qiyao. “He should be the first one on the list!”

After that, they each began making preparations. Because Wang Qiyao was still weak, she decided to take the easy route; so instead of doing all the cooking, she put in an order with the privately owned restaurant that had recently opened on the corner. She had everything delivered so that she would only have to prepare some beverages, fruit, and pastries. The day of the party, all she did was rearrange the furniture slightly and put out a new tablecloth and some fresh flowers; suddenly the entire room felt different. Wang Qiyao suddenly thought to herself, It has been so long since I hosted a party. For so long there has been only one person coming in and out of this apartment, but tonight we ’ ll have some fun!

Everything was ready by three o’clock; all that remained was for the guests to arrive and the food to be delivered. The tidy room felt a bit empty. Wang Qiyao sat all alone, and her heart also felt a bit empty. The sun shone into the window, creating a powerful glare. The children didn’t have to go to school on Saturday afternoon, and they were all playing outside in the longtang , singing songs, some new and others several decades old and familiar to Wang Qiyao. The potted oleanders on the rooftop terrace across the way were sprouting new leaves, green and glossy. After all, it was spring and the days were getting longer. It seemed as if the sun would never set. The staircase was silent, the guests had yet to arrive, but the crisp sounds of footsteps reverberated down the longtang , now approaching, now fading away. But there was no need to worry: an exciting night was approaching — it would be here soon enough.

Old Colour never showed up. In his heart he knew that Wang Qiyao was throwing the party especially for him; he also knew that going would bring him nothing but discomfort and sadness — those were the delicacies that Wang Qiyao was preparing for him. But he still couldn’t resist riding around Peace Lane that night at around ten o’clock, when most parties reached their climax. Coming down the alley, he saw a flickering light in Wang Qiyao’s window — not, he knew, a light bulb, but candlelight. Gazing up at the window, he was lost in a daze for several minutes, wondering, What year is this scene from? He could hear the sound of music but couldn’t date it. Then he turned around and left, reassuring himself that no matter what, he now could say that he had dropped by. That was his way of replying to her invitation! That was their official good-bye, accompanied by music and dance. He was neither happy nor sad: he just numbly turned his back on the gaiety and left. The partygoers caught up in the excitement of the music and dancing were creatures of illusion — if he were to reach out to try to grasp at them, his hands would come up empty. As for the past that flowed like water — he could cross bridges and ferry his way across rivers, but in the end it would always elude him.

Wang Qiyao actually knew that he wouldn’t show up. Her invitation was simply a message, a way of telling him that she couldn’t let go of him, and that without him all gatherings were pointless. She ran around the apartment busying herself with making the guests comfortable, but all that was just to fill the emptiness in her heart. After she had turned off the lights and lit the candles, she felt some of the good times from her past coming back to her. The apartment filled with young friends singing and dancing made her forget that time was passing. Everyone was carrying on about what a wonderful time they were having. Then before they knew it, the clock had struck twelve and the night was gone. The wine bottles were empty and all that was left of the enormous cake was messy bits and pieces. Her friends bid her an affectionate farewell and, one after the other, filed down the stairs. Long Legs was the last to leave; he wanted to stay behind to help her clean up the plates and cups.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it tomorrow. I’m too tired to worry about it tonight,” she told him.

As soon as Long Legs was out the door, she blew out all the candles; silence fell over the apartment and the stairway was plunged into pitch-black darkness.

“Good-bye,” Long Legs called out as he went softly down the stairs. He closed the door behind him as he exited through the back. When he got outside, a shiver suddenly came over him. A handful of scattered stars emitted a dull light, and there was a chill in the wind. Long Legs continued to shiver slightly as he undid his bicycle lock and peddled out of the longtang .

That night’s excitement left its mark on Peace Lane. All those who were accustomed to turning in early went to sleep thinking that the lights would be burning all night long at Wang Qiyao’s apartment. This was something quite out of the ordinary for Peace Lane, and it spiced up their dreams that night. The first thing anyone who happened to wake up in the middle of the night did was to look up at Wang Qiyao’s window to see if the party was still going on. People coming home from the late shift and those leaving for the night shift also gazed up at her window and thought , They ’ re still at it ! Actually, it was only midnight then, and they had no idea of what transpired after that. The hours between two and three o’clock in the morning are the most peaceful hours, a time when even the insects are dreaming. The dreams of that hour are the soundest of all dreams — airtight, so that not even the wind can creep in — this is the hour people need to recover from the exhaustion of the previous day. The streetlights on Huaihai Road continued to shine quietly, lighting up the deserted road.

At the far end of Peace Lane there is only a single rusty iron lamp. It has been there for many years and emits a dirty, dull glow. It was during that hour of deathly silence that a long shadow crept into Peace Lane — it was Long Legs. Long Legs quietly parked his bicycle by the rear entrance to Wang Qiyao’s building, took out a key from his pants pocket, and unlocked the door. There was a sharp click as the lock popped open, but it was far from enough to break the deep silence of the world that night. Like a cat, he tiptoed up the stairs. Halfway up the staircase there was a small window, through which the moonlight shone down on him, but Long Legs was not himself that night and the light seemed to be shining on someone else. He surprised even himself with his own dexterity as he navigated around the staircase cluttered with junk. But he didn’t bump into a single thing and continued on up the stairs until he found himself standing outside Wang Qiyao’s door. The door to the common kitchen was ajar, letting in a little light and projecting his shadow onto the apartment door; his shadow too looked like someone else’s shadow. He paused for a moment before feeling for the other key.

Long Legs pushed open the door to find the interior bathed in moonlight, which projected the flower patterns from the curtains onto the floor. He felt calm and completely at ease. It was the first time that he had seen the room in the middle of the night like this and it looked completely different, yet he was able to find his way smoothly, without a single misstep. He saw the walnut chest against the wall, shimmering in the moonlight like a bride waiting to be taken to the altar. Anticipation overcame Long Legs. That ’ s it! So elegant and mysterious, it ’ s there waiting for me. It was like an assignation, at once stirring and tormenting. Long Legs’ heart pounded as he approached the chest; he pulled a screwdriver out of his pocket, itching to get it open. But in the moment that he fitted the screwdriver into the drawer lock, the light suddenly turned on.