Wang Anyi - The Song of Everlasting Sorrow

After they finished the snacks, Wang Qiyao sent them off to the movies and sat alone in the quiet room, watching the spring afternoon sun as it moved across the western wall. She recalled many such afternoons in her life. The light with which she is so familiar has shone for hundreds and thousands of years, and it will always be there. People, on the other hand, can never escape the trap of time. She followed the light, watching it until it disappeared and the room gradually grew dark. There was no sign of Weiwei— Who knows where she might be having fun. It seems to be an unwritten rule on Sunday evenings that nothing ever gets started on time, a special time when nothing is set in stone. It was the hour people normally cook dinner and yet it was particularly quiet. Soon the lights would come on, one by one, and night would arrive; and all those people out for a good time would have even less reason to return home.

Wang Qiyao didn’t wait up for Weiwei. She woke up in the night to find a light on; Weiwei was getting her things together to go back to school the next morning. At least she hasn ’ t completely forgotten about school, thought Wang Qiyao as she closed her eyes. In her half-sleeping state, she could hear the pigeons on the neighbor’s balcony cooing in their dreams. Before long the light went out and Weiwei, too, had gone to bed.

The next time Zhang Yonghong came over, Wang Qiyao made a point of complimenting her on her boyfriend, not expecting her to state the disclaimer, “He’s not my boyfriend, just a friend who’s fun to hang out with.”

Having been rudely brushed aside, Wang Qiyao couldn’t finish what she had intended to say. After a brief pause, she went on with a smile, “Just don’t spend all your time having fun. . or you might regret it.”

“Don’t worry,” replied Zhang Yonghong. “Having fun is how we are supposed to spend our time.”

“And you think you can take all the sweet time your heart desires?” asked Wang Qiyao. “It all flashes by in an instant. No matter how much fun you may be having, there always comes a day when you suddenly have to look back and reflect on what you have done.”

“So what? If I have to look back, I’ll look back,” Zhang Yonghong responded coolly.

Neither was in the best of spirits when they parted. Zhang Yonghong brought her boyfriend over again the following visit — only this time it was a different boy. This one was darker, a bit taller, and not as outgoing. Stiff as a ramrod, he sat in silence as Zhang Yonghong chatted and giggled; he couldn’t have been more different from the last one. Wang Qiyao knew that she was “just having fun” and didn’t take the trouble to make them any snacks; Zhang Yonghong and her boyfriend left before dinner.

The following day, Zhang Yonghong came by to tell her that this one was a “real boyfriend,” although they were still in their trial period. Wang Qiyao took her words with a grain of salt. But the next time Zhang Yonghong brought the same boy along, and the two soon became frequent quests. Although this boy wasn’t as agreeable as the first one, he was quite capable. He knew how to fix everything, from faucets and toilets to light switches and the belt on the sewing machine; all problems mechanical and electrical were solved instantly. Moreover, he seemed to be devoted to Zhang Yonghong. Whenever Weiwei was home, the three of them would go out to eat at one of the new Western restaurants, and he would always foot the bill. But then one day Zhang Yonghong suddenly announced that she was breaking up with him. The reason she gave was quite strange; she said that he had athlete’s foot. . and that it had spread between his fingers. After the breakup, the boy came to Wang Qiyao with a mixture of shame and anger and ended up sobbing. He wasn’t the only one who felt bad, for even Wang Qiyao felt she had been led along.

“From now on, don’t bring your friends around,” Wang Qiyao told Zhang Yonghong, “I don’t have time for them.”

That was indeed the last time Zhang Yonghong brought her boyfriends over. But occasionally she would get up in the middle of a conversation, saying that she had to go because someone was waiting for her. Before she even finished her sentence, one could hear the sound of a bicycle bell ringing outside the window. Unable to hold back her curiosity, Wang Qiyao would rush over to the staircase window and look down as soon as Zhang Yonghong had gone down the stairs. She saw her leaving the longtang slowly on the back of a bicycle. Although she couldn’t quite make out the boy on the bicycle, she could tell it was someone new. She heard from Weiwei that Zhang Yonghong had gone through several more new boyfriends.

Zhang Yonghong changed boyfriends faster than most people change light bulbs. She had different sources to draw upon when looking for a new boyfriend: people from the same work unit, middle-school classmates, and neighbors who lived on the same street. One was even a customer of the gas company she met when she went out to read his meter. It is hard to say how much she liked them. There was actually only one reason she agreed to go out with any of them — that was because they liked her. Having men around who liked her bolstered her up; to that end she felt the more, the merrier. Aside from thus adding to her glory, she had no use for them, and felt she was better off relying on herself. She set herself off from the crowd by her stylish dress and surrounded herself with servile boys only too willing to obey her every wish; jealous gazes followed her everywhere. This was the portrait she had composed for herself; even if it was off by a few strokes, it was still hers. She was unusually good at catching admiring gazes and, with a few deft maneuvers, could turn that admiration into attachment. But this was as far as that would go, and she would move right on to the next one. Her superb ability to chew boys up and spit them out — without any fear of running out of new candidates — rivaled that of any army recruiter. The boys fell into a trap that had a beginning but no end; what they were left with were memories of a transient beauty that could not be erased. Being young and impressionable, most of them went on believing for the rest of their lives that women were complicated and mysterious creatures. And what of Zhang Yonghong? Boyfriends drifted past her like scenes from a revolving sideshow; she was content with a taste of the subject at hand but didn’t let herself be drawn too deeply into the joys and sorrows of the experience. Gradually her heart grew numb and could no longer feel any real excitement, as if she had grown a protective shell around herself. So, although on the surface she looked animated, underneath, she was as calm as still water.

Over time Zhang Yonghong came to prefer dragging Weiwei along when she went out on her dates. Weiwei was there to serve as a “light bulb”—the current slang for an unofficial chaperone — but she could also be the audience and turn the date into an exhibition, which was just what Zhang Yonghong wanted. Other girls wouldn’t have agreed to serve as the “light bulb” so readily, but Weiwei didn’t mind. She enjoyed having a good time and even repeatedly thanked Zhang Yonghong for bringing her along. She was also at the age when she was beginning to notice boys. Boys and girls at her school didn’t speak to one another. They put up a front of being reserved while secretly hoping for interactions with the opposite sex. Weiwei could hardly contain her excitement whenever Zhang Yonghong brought her along on her dates, and, often forgetting her role as the “light bulb,” would get into the conversation, but Zhang Yonghong never got upset with her; in fact, she seemed pleased. At first the boy thought Weiwei was too pushy and calling too much attention to herself; Zhang Yonghong seemed to be deliberately pushing her toward him, and he felt frustrated that his solicitude was being wasted on the wrong girl. Gradually, however, he came to realize that he was getting nowhere with Zhang Yonghong. Facing the pain of rejection, and prompted by Weiwei’s bubbling enthusiasm, he unconsciously began to shift his interest onto her. He was aware that he was settling for second best — but then young people are adept at finding things to be cheerful about. This did, however, lead to a subtle change in the ranking of the girls in his estimation. How could Zhang Yonghong fail to notice? As soon as she became conscious of what was happening, she immediately dumped him. It is always best to be the first to act. That way she could console herself with the thought that Weiwei’s boyfriend was one of her rejects.