Wang Anyi - The Song of Everlasting Sorrow

“I would be lying if I said that I didn’t have the desire to forge ahead. . but when the boat won’t go forward anymore. . all I can do is turn back.”

After a long silence, he suddenly asked, “Kang Mingxun is the father, isn’t he?”

Wang Qiyao laughed, “What does it matter whether he is or not?”

Mr. Cheng grew a bit self-conscious. “I was only asking.”

The two of them turned over, away from each other, and before long they were both fast asleep, snoring lightly.

The following day Mr. Cheng did not show up at Wang Qiyao’s after work — he went to see Jiang Lili instead. He had called her at her office, and they agreed to meet on Tilan Bridge. By the time Mr. Cheng arrived, Jiang Lili was already standing there waiting, constantly looking at her watch. She had clearly arrived too early but insisted on blaming Mr. Cheng for being late. Mr. Cheng refused to argue with her. They found a small restaurant nearby, went in, and ordered a few dishes. As soon as the waiter turned away, Mr. Cheng bent over the table and started to cry, a stream of tears falling steadily on the bleached table cloth. Jiang Lili could pretty much figure out what had happened, but made no effort to comfort him. All she offered was silence as she silently fixed her gaze on the ashen wall, which had recently been stained a pale white. At that moment, all Mr. Cheng was focused on was his own pain, and he made no effort to understand what Jiang Lili might be feeling. Even people as good-natured and generous as Mr. Cheng can become extremely selfish and unfair in love. They tiptoe around their loved ones, fearful of giving offense; but with the people who love them they are thoroughly inconsiderate and arrogant, behaving like spoiled brats. This was what had motivated him to seek out Jiang Lili.

Jiang Lili did not speak for a long time. Then, seeing that he was still crying, she sneered, “What’s wrong? Went out and got your heart broken, did you?”

Mr. Cheng gradually stopped crying and sat in silence. Jiang Lili had the urge to taunt him further, but, taking pity on him, softened up. “You know, it seems like the harder we try to get something, the more elusive it becomes. But when we don’t want something, it ends up falling into our lap.”

Mr. Cheng asked softly, “And what if one gives up on something but it still remains elusive?”

Jiang Lili was livid. She raised her voice, “What, are all the women in the world dead? Don’t tell me that I’m the only one left? Sent here to listen to you ramble on about your grievances over her?”

Mr. Cheng lowered his head contritely and was silent. Jiang Lili also gave up speaking to him, and the two of them sat for some time in an awkward silence.

In the end, it was Mr. Cheng who continued. “Actually, I came here to ask a favor of you. . I’m not sure what made me break down like that. I’m so sorry.”

Somewhat mollified, Jiang Lili told him to go ahead and say what he had to say.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and you are the only one I can go to for help. I know it’s not right, but there is no one else I can turn to.”

“Whatever it is, let’s hear it!”

Mr. Cheng explained that he would never again visit Wang Qiyao. He wanted to ask Jiang Lili to look out for her. Jiang Lili did not know whether to be angry or bitter.

It took a long time before she managed to say, “Well I guess all the women in the world are dead. . even me.”

Mr. Cheng took her ridicule in stride and Jiang Lili stopped herself from saying more.

Wang Qiyao waited for Mr. Cheng’s return. She waited several days, but in the end it was Jiang Lili who came to visit. She had come straight from work in Yangshupu and had had to transfer several times on the bus. By the time she got there, her hair was disheveled, her shoes were covered with dust, and she was quite hoarse. She carried a netted bag stuffed with fruits, crackers, milk powder, and a barely used bed sheet. She emptied everything out onto the table before Wang Qiyao could stop her, and with several forceful motions, ripped the bed sheet into several small pieces to be used as diapers.

Eventually, Wang Qiyao also paid a visit to Jiang Lili. By that time Jiang Lili had moved from the model village on the outskirts of town to the Huaihai district, where she was only two bus stops away from Wang Qiyao’s place. It was a Sunday and Wang Qiyao went out to pay the water and electric bills after putting her daughter down for her afternoon nap. The day was fine and, with time to kill after her errands, she decided to do some window shopping on her way home. Suddenly, she heard someone calling her — it was Jiang Lili. She was holding a roll of dark blue material; she was on her way to the tailor to have a pair of pants made, she said. Wang Qiyao took a closer look at the fabric and, seeing that it was common polyester, volunteered to make the pants for her.

“Are you sure?” Jiang Lili asked. “Well, in that case, let’s go to your place so that you can measure me.”

After a few steps, she suddenly stopped. “On second thought, why don’t you come to my place instead? You have never been there.”

So they turned around and headed in the direction of the Huaihai district. Jiang Lili’s apartment was on the ground floor, with a pair of large south-facing rooms and one smaller room facing north. She also had a small garden in the front courtyard, but instead of plants there were only a few bamboo poles for hanging out the laundry.

The walls of the apartment had been whitewashed unevenly, and looked as though they were not dry. The floor, waxed on a regular basis by arrangement with the property management office, was marred here and there by uneven water stains that made it too look wet. With the doors of the apartment left wide open and all the rooms connected, the constant traffic up and down the staircase, situated right outside the front door, made the apartment feel like a busy alley.

Over everything hung the heavy smell of onions and garlic, which even the ample ventilation in the apartment was unable to dispel. Although it was already October, mosquito nets were still hanging around the beds. The sparse furniture made the place feel like a public dormitory. Jiang Lili employed a wet nurse as well as a maidservant. Previously stationed outside the back door, the two, who obviously did not get along, followed the visitor inside, where, standing in opposite corners, they eyeballed Wang Qiyao. A strange expression came over the faces of Jiang Lili’s two older boys when they saw Wang Qiyao. They were around seven or eight years old and couldn’t stop whispering and giggling as they found excuses to scurry in and out of the room. Old Zhang, Jiang Lili’s husband, was not home. There weren’t even any pictures of him hanging up, so Wang Qiyao had no idea what he looked like.

Jiang Lili did not own a tape measure and had to ask the maids to borrow one from one of the neighbors. The maids argued back and forth about which of them should go out to try to borrow one; eventually they agreed that none of the neighbors could possibly have such an item. In the end they decided that a ball of yarn would have to suffice as a makeshift replacement. Wang Qiyao cut two pieces of string, one for the waist and one for the pants length; placing them carefully in the folded fabric, she announced that she had better be going. Jiang Lili saw Wang Qiyao to the door, her maids following close behind. Wang Qiyao didn’t feel quite herself the whole time she was there and completely lost her sense of direction as soon as she left. When she reached the first intersection down the lane, she heard a child shrieking from behind, “Hustler!”