Wang Anyi - The Song of Everlasting Sorrow

Wang Qiyao accepted the invitation, primarily because she was unwilling to disappoint Jiang Lili but also out of simple curiosity. This curiosity was divided in two halves — she was curious about Jiang Lili and equally curious about the party. All kinds of rumors spread around school about parties at Jiang Lili’s house. She never invited people over, and this created an air of mystery. In the past, no matter how curious she might have been, Wang Qiyao’s response would have been to refuse the invitation — she would never give herself over to the excitement of others. But now she didn’t seem to care — moreover, who knows? Maybe the others would end up giving their excitement over to her.

Wang Qiyao decided that she would go, but when she went to tell Jiang Lili, the latter seemed to go out of her way to avoid her. As soon as the bell rang, Lili rushed out of the classroom, leaving her textbook open on her desk, obviously as a receptacle for a reply from Wang Qiyao. Jiang Lili was behaving like a person so overwhelmed with emotions that she could hardly bring herself to speak, but Wang Qiyao was determined not to humor her: she had never liked playing those artful games, and the content of those types of letters always made her skin crawl. When Jiang Lili returned to the classroom to discover that her textbook was empty, a look of disappointment swept over her face. Wang Qiyao was secretly pleased. As soon as the bell rang, Jiang Lili rushed out of the classroom without looking back. Wang Qiyao ran after her, calling out her name, whereupon Jiang Lili’s face turned red: she was obviously very embarrassed, yet also very determined, a combination that showed her hurt. She had never expected Wang Qiyao to come right out and thank her for the invitation, let alone say that she would be sure to attend. Jiang Lili blushed even more hotly as teardrops welled up in her eyes, thick misty tears. The following day, Wang Qiyao discovered yet another note in her textbook. It was written on a piece of light blue stationery, the kind with flowery patterns printed in the corners, in language that was like poetry. The letter extolled the beauty of the moon the night before. Wang Qiyao couldn’t help but feel a bit sick.

A few days later, the day of the birthday party, Wang Qiyao prepared a pair of hair ornaments to bring as a present. She put on a light wool checkered autumn jacket over a white cheongsam and, as a finishing touch, tied a red ribbon in her hair. She didn’t leave home until eight o’clock and only planned on staying a few minutes when she got there. A few days earlier, as the party was approaching, Wang Qiyao felt suddenly unsure of herself and her future. She didn’t know Jiang Lili very well; everything would have been fine if only she had Wu Peizhen to accompany her there. But Wu Peizhen was like someone from another lifetime. Just thinking of her filled Wang Qiyao with melancholy. She sat in her bedroom waiting for the clock to strike eight, by which time the longtang were shrouded in a lonely silence. The few night echoes stole through: the drip-drip sound of well water, the chiming of the clock, and evening songs being transmitted over the radio. The silence of the night accentuated people’s loneliness and exhaustion; the day was over but there was still much to do.

At eight o’clock she went out the door; the electric lamp in the alley projected no light, only the colors of night. The other streetlights were also too weak to drive away the darkness surging out of the longtang . Neon lights were clouds floating in the night sky and people were but lamplit shadows. Jiang Lili’s family lived on a broad longtang just off a quiet and secluded main street. The alley was lined on both sides with two-storey apartment buildings with gardens and garages. Here too it was dark and quiet, but darkness and quietude of another breed. The window curtains were all shut at Jiang Lili’s house, but the slivers of light that peeped through made it more alive than the neighboring buildings. Wang Qiyao thought that she would be the only one late, but as she approached the building a car drove past her, stopping outside Jiang Lili’s front door. The main entrance had been left open, as if to welcome the arriving guests.

Wang Qiyao walked inside and hung her coat up on the coatrack in the foyer, holding on to her gloves and the present she had brought. There were not a lot of people in the living room and they all seemed to be wrapped up in their own conversations. Fresh fruit and appetizers were laid out on an elongated serving table. In the center of the table was an empty spot reserved for the cake, which hadn’t yet arrived. Jiang Lili sat alone in the corner playing the piano. She was wearing one of her usual outfits and had a look of indifference on her face — it might as well have been someone else’s birthday. But the moment she laid eyes on Wang Qiyao, her face lit up with a brilliant smile. She got up from the piano bench and walked over to Wang Qiyao, taking her by the hand. Wang Qiyao couldn’t help heaving a sigh of relief. Jiang Lili was the one person she knew at the party, the one bit of familiarity and closeness, and so she in turn extended her hand. Jiang Lili pulled Wang Qiyao out of the living room, up the stairs, and into her bedroom.

Everything in the room was pink — from the curtains and comforter to the satin drapes adorning the dressing table mirror — but this only succeeded in making Jiang Lili appear even more conservative and old-fashioned. She seemed set on making a mess of her room. The desk and bed were covered with books, their covers torn and spattered with ink; the cups were covered with brown tea stains; her phonograph records were cracked and scratched; and her wardrobe, all in black and gray, was strewn all over the room. Wang Qiyao had originally planned on complimenting Jiang Lili on her room, but seeing this, she couldn’t get the words out. The room looked as if it had suffered some terrible injustice and was holding in a bellyful of discontent. Jiang Lili led Wang Qiyao inside and sat down on the corner of her bed, staring into the latter’s eyes for the longest time without uttering a word. Wang Qiyao didn’t know how to react; the entire situation seemed so very strange and awkward.

Suddenly a hubbub broke out downstairs. They were probably about to bring out the cake. More people seemed to have arrived and waves of celebratory cries and laughter rang out. Wang Qiyao was about to suggest that they go back downstairs when she discovered that Jiang Lili was crying, the tears flowing past her glasses and down her cheeks.

“What’s wrong, Jiang Lili?” she asked. “Today’s your birthday, your big day! What’s there to be so upset about?”

At this Jiang Lili began to cry even more violently and her tears came streaming down. “You don’t understand.” she muttered as she shook her head. “Wang Qiyao, you just don’t understand.”

“Then tell me,” Wang Qiyao replied. “Just what don’t I understand?”

But Jiang Lili wouldn’t explain — she simply went on weeping and shaking her head. She acted a bit like a little girl trying to win sympathy. Wang Qiyao was beginning to grow tired of this behavior, but she managed to put up with it and suggested that they go back downstairs to rejoin the party. Jiang Lili, however, refused even more stubbornly. Finally, Wang Qiyao got up to go down by herself. Halfway down the stairs, she heard footsteps behind her and turned to see a teary-eyed Jiang Lili following her down. In her heart, Wang Qiyao thought the whole thing ridiculous, even annoying; she was also a bit moved — but this last emotion was a bit forced.

She turned to Jiang Lili. “Maybe you won’t change into a new outfit or put on some makeup, but at least go wash your face!”