Wang Anyi - The Song of Everlasting Sorrow

The sight of his own shadow leaping onto the wall caught Long Legs by surprise, but as he scanned his surroundings, his eyes were reassured by the familiar scene. Even now he still hadn’t realized quite what had happened; out of habit, he wedged the screwdriver further in and, pressing down, popped open the drawer. Under the lamplight, the sound that it made was quite pronounced and it was only then that, startled, he turned around to find Wang Qiyao. She had gone to bed fully clothed, and was now sitting up, propped against the pillow. This had been a difficult night for Wang Qiyao to get through, and she had been awake the whole time. She had been counting the minutes, counting the seconds until sunrise, hoping that some miracle might turn up with the coming day. When she first saw Long Legs come in, she wasn’t in the least scared. She was aware that all kinds of bizarre events take place deep in the night, when even the most devilish of behavior seems normal. Even when she saw him pry open the drawer she wasn’t at all surprised, the middle of the night being a queer time when people witness all kinds of outlandish things with perfect composure.

“I told you,” Wang Qiyao said, “I don’t have any gold.”

Avoiding her gaze, Long Legs laughed in embarrassment, “But that’s not what everybody says.”

“What does everyone say?”

“Everyone says you were once Miss Shanghai and caused quite a stir on the Bund back then. Then later you got involved with some rich guy who left all his money to you before running off to Taiwan. They even say that he still sends you remittances in U.S. dollars every year.”

Wang Qiyao listened with curiosity to his version of her story. “And what else?”

Long Legs went on, “You have a chest filled with the yellow stuff, but you’ve only tapped into a fraction of it over the past several decades. You cash in a few bars at the Bank of China at regular intervals. If not for that, what would you live on?”

Wang Qiyao didn’t know what to say. After a brief pause, she said, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!”

Long Legs took a step closer and fell forward, kneeling before her bed. His voice trembled as he begged, “Please help me. Just loan me a little bit. I’ll pay you back double as soon as I get back on my feet.”

Wang Qiyao laughed. “Long Legs, has there been a time when you were ever on your feet?”

Long Legs’ pleading voice betrayed a hint of desperation, “Look at what I’ve been forced to resort to. Why would I lie to you? Please, Auntie, help me. Everyone knows what a good heart you have and how generous you are.”

Wang Qiyao had originally been ready to continue this little conversation, but as soon as she heard him start calling her “Auntie,” she found herself losing her temper. Her face became stern and she scolded him, “Who are you calling ‘Auntie’?”

Long Legs leaned on the edge of the bed and clung to Wang Qiyao’s leg as he pleaded yet again, “Please help me. I’ll write you an IOU.”

Wang Qiyao pushed his hand away. “Why are you coming to me for help and not your father? Everyone says that your father is a millionaire! Didn’t you just come back from Hong Kong?”

Those words pierced Long Legs to the heart. His face turned ashen and he withdrew his hands. Getting up from the floor, he brushed the dust off his knees, “What does this have to do with my father? If you aren’t willing to help me out, then just forget it!”

With that, he strutted toward the door.

But Wang Qiyao stopped him.

“You think it’s that easy to just walk out of here? I’ve never heard of someone trying to borrow money by sneaking into people’s homes in the middle of the night!”

Long Legs had no choice but to remain standing there.

Deep in the night, when people should be sleeping, their thoughts often wander off to strange places: they utter words that do not make sense and everything tends to degenerate into a farce. It seemed as if Wang Qiyao had successfully headed off a disaster and the story would end there, but just as the curtain was falling, she called “Stop”. . and forced the action to go on.

“What do you want from me?” asked Long Legs.

“Go to the police station and turn yourself in,” replied Wang Qiyao.

Long Legs began to grow anxious. “And if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll go report you to them.”

“You don’t have any proof.”

Wang Qiyao smiled complacently. “What do you mean, I don’t have proof? You pried the drawer open and your fingerprints are everywhere.”

Long Legs suddenly felt as if he had been struck by a train — he felt dizzy and his forehead broke out in a cold sweat. He stood there for a while and then a sinister smile appeared on his face. “Looks like the result will be the same whether I do it or not, so I might as well finish what I started.”

With that, he walked over to the chest and pulled the wooden box out of the drawer. Unable to lie still any longer, Wang Qiyao got up from the bed to take back her possession. Long Legs ducked out of the way and held the box behind his back, out of her reach.

“What are you worried about, Auntie? Didn’t you say you didn’t have anything?”

Now it was Wang Qiyao’s turn to feel anxious. She began to perspire and screamed at him, “Put it down! You thief!”

“If you call me a thief, then that’s what I am!” A shameless, even brutal, look came over his face.

She tried to twist the box out of his hand, and he let her struggle all she wanted, but he wasn’t letting go. By then he had got a sense of the box’s weight. Excitement swelled inside him because now he knew that he had not gone through all this trouble in vain.

Anger contorted Wang Qiyao’s face. Gnashing her teeth, she cursed him. “You wretched thief! You’re a thief! You think I believed all that garbage you tell everyone? I saw through you a long time ago — I just didn’t want to embarrass you!”

The words made Long Legs swallow his smugness. He put down the box and grabbed hold of Wang Qiyao’s neck.

“Say it again! I dare you!” he screamed.

“Thief!” cried Wang Qiyao.

Long Legs wrapped his large hands around Wang Qiyao’s throat. Look at how thin her neck is, just skin and bones, it ’ s enough to make me sick! Wang Qiyao struggled to break free of his grip, cursing him all the while. His grip tightened. He looked at her face: so ugly and desiccated. Her hair was brittle and the roots were gray, but the rest was dark and shiny with hair dye — how comical! Wang Qiyao’s lips quivered, but no sounds came out. Long Legs hadn’t finished getting his kicks. He had exerted only a fraction of his strength and her neck was too skinny for his hands to dig into. That feeling of excitement rushed into his heart again and he squeezed tighter and tighter until the neck grew soft and lost its elasticity. He sighed a little regretfully, gently put her down, and released his grip.

Too impatient even to take a second look at her, he turned his attention to the box. The floral engravings on it indicated that it was highclass and expensive — a prized object. It didn’t take much effort for Long Legs to pry the lock off with his screwdriver and get the box open. He couldn’t help being a bit disappointed, even though it wasn’t a complete loss. He took out the contents and put them into his pockets, which felt heavy. He remembered what Wang Qiyao had just said about fingerprints and found a cloth with which he wiped the whole place down. He then turned off the light and quietly crept out of the apartment. Over the course of the entire episode, the moon had barely shifted; everything had transpired during the dead hour between two and three o’clock in the morning, a time when even the darkest of deeds can be carried out in absolute secrecy. Who would ever know what had happened here on this night?