Tie Ning - The Bathing Women

He avoided Tiao and at the same time desperately longed for her. Not until the New Year’s party hosted by the Beijing Film Circle would he encounter her. Certain he would be there, she showed up without warning; she just wanted to see him. Her appearing unexpectedly made him happy as well as nervous. They saw each other but didn’t greet or invite each other to dance. They pretended to concentrate on dancing with others, changing partners frequently until the music died and people began to leave. Tiao went down the street without looking back. She told herself proudly but with anticipation: I won’t look back. I would never look back; never turn my head. But please follow me. Please follow me. I believe you will follow me.

He followed her, and he’d decided to follow her before the party ended. Quietly, he followed her all the way to her hotel, and up to her room. The door gently closed behind them. He locked it firmly and pulled her into an embrace. They both knew what was going to happen. Holding her as she trembled, no longer able to control his desire, he was determined to make love to her, like a gambler desperately betting everything on one last throw of the dice.

It was on this night he discovered she knew nothing about sex. Her ignorance made her doubly precious to him, and also made him want to laugh. He was thinking that it was impossible for him to be embarrassed in front of her because she didn’t even have the most basic means of judgment. Her ignorance and complete obedience touched and pleased him. He had never thought, never imagined, she would be like this; it was impossible for her to look down on him. He suddenly felt relaxed and filled with a strength he didn’t recall — empowered by calm, long absent, appearing in a flash with his happiness and ease. Despite the pressure in his head and with temples throbbing, he went forward, not caring, or else daring to enjoy the happiness, though still afraid that happiness might lead to a carelessness that would ruin his long-awaited recovery, the priceless and joyful recovery.

He finally succeeded. His eyes brimmed with tears and his heart overflowed with a gratitude to Tiao that words couldn’t describe; he had never loved Tiao as he did right now. Also, he also loved and valued himself more than ever. Afraid the recovery might disappear, he insisted unreasonably that Tiao concoct all kinds of excuses to stay in Beijing day after day, wanting to be with her every minute, day and night. He wouldn’t have admitted to experimenting with himself, but their bodies together over and over finally convinced him that his success wasn’t the one-night bloom of a moonflower, but that he would be a real man forever, feet firmly on the ground, able to shoulder the world.

Tiao woke up one morning to find Fang Jing kneeling beside her bed and gazing at her, and then she heard him say, “I want to ask you something: Marry me. I want you to marry me.”

These were the longed-for words that she never expected to hear. Overjoyed as she was, a voice from her heart had already begun warning her: maybe this wasn’t right. Later, from deep within, that warning voice would continue, but she ignored it — and when her actions conflicted with the warnings of her inner voice, she trusted her actions. Even when Fang Jing in ecstasy forgot himself and shouted out wildly, “I want to fuck every woman in the world,” she still failed to grasp the insult to her in the words. She preferred to credit Fang Jing’s truthfulness: this must be the secret desire of many men. Who else would blurt out the truth the way Fang Jing did?

Once they took the bus to the zoo. Tiao casually tossed away their used bus tickets when they got off, but Fang Jing immediately picked them up. “From now on, don’t throw away these tickets. I want to take them back and get reimbursed. Hmm, I’d even claim reimbursement for a five-cent ticket — not that I need money, but because of how much they owe me.” He cast his gaze into the distance, and the expression in his eyes was cold and faintly indignant. His eyes and words chilled and surprised Tiao, and she felt there was hatred inside him, but to whom did “they” refer? Unable or unwilling to make the connection between Fang Jing’s “getting reimbursement” and his “I want to fuck all the women in the world,” she was just a confused girl in love who rejected logic. Only many years later, in retrospect, would she recognize the common thread in his two desires. He was a middle-aged man who had suffered greatly. Once free of suffering, he couldn’t help demanding compensation — urgently, madly — from the entire society, the human component, all the men and women. Time flows on like water and he knew more and more clearly that he was no rival for time.

Tiao had no concept of that kind of demand for compensation. Was it because she was still young? Youth is capital. It was because of that perishable capital that Fang Jing was jealous of her even when he loved her the most. Her dewy fullness, her lack of romantic experience, and even her ignorance of her own value made him groan with jealousy. Ah, all this proved that she still had plenty of time to gallop through the broad world as she pleased, but for him a faint, strange voice resonated constantly in his ear, telling him he was getting old.

This alone provided him ample reason to make demands on the world, and it formed the psychological basis of his misuse of his status, talent, and gender to manipulate society and people. It made him treat Tiao capriciously, sometimes even harshly. Once he said to her suddenly, “I don’t think I can marry you. Our age difference is too great, and sooner or later you’ll get tired of me. I would always worry about someone taking you away from me. Do you know worrying will make me age faster?”

Tiao swore to him, “I’m not afraid of your getting old. I want to get old with you. No matter how old you are, I’ll be with you to take care of you. I want to take care of you.” Not only didn’t her words move Fang Jing, but they made him fly into a rage. “I don’t want you to take care of me. I don’t want you to see a mouthful of my dentures and the fungal nails on my feet. You’ve seen them, right? Tell me you’ve seen them, and they disgust you, don’t they?”

Even when preparing to divorce his wife and marry Tiao, he was still chasing women indiscriminately or being chased by those women who pursue celebrities. He couldn’t explain himself: it seemed as though the more he loved Tiao, the more he felt compelled to be with other women, as if by continually abusing others and himself he’d prove his youthfulness, charm, and value. Then he would be worthy of Tiao, for how could a man who proved so attractive not be worthy of Tiao? This was Fang Jing’s logic. He couldn’t extricate himself from it because he was so obsessed with the years of his youth that were gone forever.

It was indeed an era when celebrities were idolized and talent revered, so much so that all Fang Jing’s capricious and extravagant behaviour was blindly rationalized by Tiao. It truly was blindness, of a new sort, derived from the pursuit of civilization, progress, and openness, that allowed the public to accept martyred celebrities with such enthusiasm. When Tiao, a victim of this blindness, told Fei everything about Fang Jing, Fei just sneered at Tiao’s affair. “Never get involved with a married man!” she warned Tiao from the very beginning.

Never get involved with a married man.

“But he’s no ordinary married man!” Tiao defended herself.

“What’s so unusual about him? Does he have three legs? Who gives him the right to divorce his wife and beg to marry you while he keeps chasing other women nonstop? Who gives him the right?” Fei said in disgust.

Tiao said, “I’m willing to forgive him everything. You don’t know how much he suffered!”