Wang Anyi - The Song of Everlasting Sorrow

Wang Qiyao was not aware of how desperate the situation had become. She only knew that Director Li was growing more and more erratic, and this left her feeling ill at ease. She also began to notice that at each visit he looked more haggard and aged than the last time. She felt she was living in a cave while a storm raged outside. But what could she do except worry? His was a world in which the clouds and rain contended furiously; in her world, clouds were clouds and rain was rain. What could she do besides wait? All she could offer to Director Li was her waiting. She couldn’t even discern his world from afar, much less enter it. She listened intently for the sound of his car starting at the entrance to the longtang . It was gone in an instant.

On one of his visits Director Li turned to her after they had made love and said gravely, “You must never acknowledge your relationship with me. This apartment is rented under your name, and no one knows when I come to see you. There may be rumors about us, but they are only rumors.”

Lying in bed next to him, she took his words to mean that he wanted to deny any involvement with her. “Of course!” she rejoined sarcastically. “I know very well I am not worthy of being associated with the Lis. I have never fancied myself a member of your family. I have never acknowledged anything.”

She spoke as if the precaution was totally unnecessary. Director Li knew she had misunderstood him, but didn’t quite know how to explain himself, so he simply smiled a bitter smile. He did not think Wang Qiyao could be petty, but there it was. Realizing her mistake, she was deeply contrite. She managed to force a smile as she looked at his drawn face and white hair, saying, “I was just teasing.”

Director Li was moved. He took her in his arms. “My whole life I feel like I have been walking on thin ice and now I’m at the edge of an abyss. This time I’m afraid I may not be able to save myself. I just don’t want you to get entangled in my problems. You who are so innocent.”

He was almost in tears as he spoke. These words came straight from his heart, and they were words he rarely allowed to escape from his lips. He spoke these words for her, but also for himself. Astonished at what she heard, Wang Qiyao wanted to interrupt him as he made these ghastly pronouncements, but the words stuck in her throat. She started to sob.

In retrospect this was an unusual night. Outside, it was abnormally dark and quiet. Not even the vendors’ clappers could be heard, and no music issued from the Paramount. It was so quiet they could clearly hear the maid in her bedroom crying in her dream. Neither of them could sleep a wink. They talked a while before becoming absorbed in their respective anxieties. Wang Qiyao wept quietly, but Director Li pretended not to notice. It was not that he did not want to comfort her, only that he did not know how. Any promise he might make would not be easily kept, so he was better off not making any. Wang Qiyao heard Director Li get up from bed and walk around the living room. She too pretended not to notice. If Director Li, with all his connections, was helpless, who could help him? It was a profoundly lonely night. They were together, yet neither could comfort the other; each was powerless to alleviate the other’s anxiety, both tormented by premonitions. Director Li’s premonitions were based on what he knew. Wang Qiyao was simply scared, sensing the coming catastrophe. She dared not think further, telling herself, Everything will be better tomorrow when the sun comes up.

As she lay waiting for the dawn, she fell asleep and dreamed that she was on her way to Suzhou to visit her maternal grandmother, but was awakened before she could reach her destination. The room was dark, but she could see Director Li’s face clearly, hovering over her. He placed a Spanish box of carved mahogany next to her pillow, reached for her hand, and put a key in her palm. He said the car was outside and he had to leave. Wang Qiyao put her arms around his neck and sobbed. She lost all her good manners and reserve, hanging on to him childishly, refusing to let him go. She did not know when he would be back again. Facing her were endless days and nights of awkward waiting, of staring at the light on the wall, which moved fast when she wanted it to slow down and quickly when she wished it would stand still. Outside the window, the parasol trees too had frustrated her wish by shedding their leaves prematurely. Wang Qiyao cried for a long time in a confused welter of misery. She was still crying when Director Li pushed her away and left. That night she soaked herself with tears, until morning came and she was too exhausted to go on crying.

This time Wang Qiyao could not sit still to wait for Director Li’s return. She had to get out. She dressed herself properly and hailed a pedicab. She stared absentmindedly ahead at the street scenes, passing from one place to another. The display windows in the shops told her that styles of shoes and hats had changed, but this did not concern her. The new romantic movies advertised outside the cinemas also had nothing to do with her. Nor did the young couples sitting in the coffee shops. She felt she already belonged to an older generation. The silvery sunlight sprinkling down between the leaves dazzled her. Watching the crowd on the street, she thought it unfair that among all of those people there was no Director Li! Stepping down from the pedicab, she realized that she had come out to shop without knowing what she was looking for.

Sometimes Wang Qiyao would go home empty-handed; other times she bought lots of items that she did not want, but piling them into the pedicab made her feel better. She did not know where she wanted to go, but the motion of going forward gave her the sensation that she was getting closer. As the street scenes on either side of her flew past, time was also flying past — that at least was progress.

While Wang Qiyao was going out for her rides, several of her neighbors vacated their apartments. She did not see them go, but only sensed that her surroundings had grown even quieter. To fill the vacuum, she put on Mei Lanfang’s records and turned the gramophone up high. The singing echoed and reverberated through the rooms, making the apartment feel emptier. One day she opened the windows to look at the sky, and was startled to see sparrows flocking all over the balcony across from her. The woman who lived there must have moved out. She looked around and realized that many of the apartment windows were tightly shut and leaves had collected around the windowsills, showing that those units too were empty. Alice Apartments was apparently in a slump. Her heart sank but she comforted herself, saying, As soon as Director Li returns, everything will be fine. But when will he be back?

She went out more frequently, sometimes three times a day: morning, afternoon, and evening. She would complain that the pedicab was too slow, ordering the driver to go faster, as if she were racing with the cars. She hurried out and hurried back, seemingly on an urgent mission. She scanned the road eagerly, as if her eyes could carve out a Director Li from the crowd. She burned with so much anxiety her lips became parched.

She realized that more than two weeks had gone by since Director Li’s last visit; it felt like an eternity. Her patience had run out — she could not stand it another minute. She went out again but, shortly after she stepped out, Director Li arrived. His face was drawn with apprehension. He asked the maid where Wang Qiyao had gone, and was told she went shopping.

“When will she be back?”

“One can never tell,” the maid replied. “Sometimes she comes right back, sometimes she’s gone all day.”

She asked how he would like his lunch, but he explained that he had to leave before noon. The curtains were drawn in the bedroom, but Director Li could feel Wang Qiyao’s breath. Going into the bathroom to shave, he felt her breath there too. There were water spots in the basin left by Wang Qiyao, and strands of her hair in the hairbrush. After shaving, he sat in the living room to wait for her, but she did not show up. Restlessly, he paced the living room, looking at the clock. He had come on a whim, but now that he was here he felt as if he really needed to see her. He had never yearned to see her as much as at that moment: it was like an intolerable thirst. Until the very last minute, as he put on his jacket, he was still hoping that Wang Qiyao would miraculously appear. He left Alice Apartments in dejection. When would he get to see her again?