Tie Ning - The Bathing Women

“I always treated Tiao differently from other women. I told you, Tiao is the only woman I’ve truly loved.”

This was what Fang Jing said, word for word. He seemed emotional when he said this. As much as Fei was willing to believe him, she also felt the sharp sting of jealousy. It was almost an instinctive reaction that any woman would have when hearing a man express strong feelings for another woman, even though the other woman was her best friend, even when the woman herself was meeting with this man on her best friend’s behalf. The jealousy normally wouldn’t lead to anything unpleasant; it would only produce a momentary uneasiness in a woman, as if, when a man expresses his love for another woman, he unwittingly belittles the woman he is with.

Fei would definitely pass along Fang Jing’s words to Tiao exactly as he said them, although she already felt reluctant to do so.

Reluctance. This sudden mood surprised Fei herself. Had any man loved Fei in this way? Compared to her, Tiao might be considered lucky, even though she sat in the office all day long, head lowered and dropping tears into a drawer.

“So, you don’t plan to marry Tiao?” she asked.

“I think that’s right.” Fang Jing then added, “Maybe when we age so much that we can’t get any older, we’ll finally be together — if she still wants me.”

“It sounds like a waste.”

“It is a waste,” Fang Jing agreed.

Fei took out a cigarette from her purse, and Fang Jing began to smoke his pipe as well. Smoking made them relax, particularly Fei. She simply didn’t understand herself. She had intended to persuade Fang Jing to go back to Tiao and fulfil his promise of marriage, and she indeed had been blaming him and questioning him. Why, then, did she feel relieved when Fang Jing told her that he wasn’t going to marry Tiao? Perhaps only she could know what she felt relieved about. And other than feeling relief for her friend, were there things in her own psychology that couldn’t be explained?

She sensed Fang Jing observing her, her smoking, maybe, though it wasn’t at all unusual for a city girl to smoke in the mid-eighties. She said, “Are you watching me smoke? This is a very ordinary cigarette, our Fuan local brand called Bridge.”

“No, I’m observing your mouth — you have a mouth like Vivien Leigh’s. Have you noticed that?”

She curled her lips and said, “No, I haven’t. Do you have a habit of observing other people’s mouths?”

“Maybe I’ve been doing some research about mouths lately.”

“Is it a professional habit?” she asked. “A director has to consider the body and features when selecting an actress. The mouth is included, I suppose.”

“The research is not solely related to casting,” he said. “Of course, the mouth is extremely important to an actress’s face, sometimes more than her eyes. Why else, when we shout at someone, would we use the expression, ‘Look at your face and mouth’? Face and mouth — the two are closely related.”

Fei smiled at his repetition of “face and mouth.” She looked at Fang Jing through narrowed eyes and said, “Don’t you cultured folks often say that the eyes are the window to the heart?”

“If the eyes are the window to the heart, then the mouth is the path to the heart. Without the mouth’s talk, how can we reach each other’s hearts?”

Fei said, “Did you say that the mouth could help us reach each other’s hearts and that the mouth was the path to the heart? I think it’s the opposite; the mouth is the barrier to the heart. Otherwise why do people say, ‘Your mouth says yes and your heart means no’? To be honest with you, I myself often don’t say what I mean. The path from mouth to heart is often blocked. It’s nearer the truth to say that the mouth is the path to the stomach. Notice what most people around us are doing with their mouths?”

“What are they doing with their mouths?”

“They are using their mouths either to eat or to lie.”

“But the mouth has another important function,” Fang Jing said. “Mouths should express love. I read some research that might be anecdotal, but says that in China more than half of couples middle-aged and older don’t use their mouths when they make love. They never kiss; they unwrap their sexual organs but shut the mouths that would lead to their hearts. This is not Asian reserve but might well be caused by their disgust with each other. The continual deterioration of modern people’s mouths is caused by an excess of disgust and a shortage of love. Our ancestors were more sincere and generous than people today when it comes to expressing love. Just take a look at those marvellous stone carvings from the Qin and Wei dynasties, and you’ll know what I mean.”

“You’re probably playing a harp for a cow,” Fei said.

“You’re no cow listening to a harp,” Fang Jing said. “You’re a woman with a beautiful mouth. Only the right corner of your mouth might give a nervous twitch once in a while. You must do that unconsciously, but you should try to correct it consciously. Please forgive my straightforward suggestion to a woman with such a beautiful mouth as yours.”

Fei licked her lips unconsciously. This was a mouth she herself truly loved, but she had never been aware of this flaw until Fang Jing pointed it out. She had to admire the accuracy of his observation, although his opinions about mouths could hardly be considered profound. She didn’t want to pursue the topic any further because she’d already started to feel a bit uncomfortable about her mouth. This mouth of hers, which had never kissed or been kissed, was at once full and empty, moist and dry, rich and desolate. It seemed as if it were her last piece of territory, her last piece of virgin land. Fang Jing made her self-conscious about it, and she almost told him this sad secret of hers. Not that his opinions about mouths moved her, but the sophisticated conversation of a mature man confused her. Never in her life had someone like Fang Jing made her the subject of so unique a form of flattery. She thought of what he said about her Vivien Leigh mouth. No matter how sure a woman is that a man has something up his sleeve, she’d have a hard time resisting such flattery. But Fei kept quiet to avoid having the mouth say yes when the heart means no, as the expression goes. No one — not even a celebrity — could broach this subject with her, no more than he could touch the mouth.

If the mouth says yes when the heart means no, who could know exactly what was on Fang Jing’s mind when he talked to Fei about the uses of the mouth? The mouth is truly the mysterious abyss of the human body. Fang Jing’s research on mouths probably needed to stop right there.

So, with Fei falling silent, Fang Jing realized he should change the subject. He stood up and led the way out of the park; he was going to treat Fei to a meal at Da Sanyuan.

Restaurants in Beijing in the mid-eighties had few customers and little variety. Da Sanyuan, a venerable Cantonese restaurant, stood out like a crane in a crowd of chickens. They didn’t spend much time eating. Fei seemed to be the one who governed the rhythm of dinner. She’d said that she needed to get back to Fuan on that night’s train.

During dinner, Fang Jing found a little fault with Fei’s table manners, commenting on the fact that she hadn’t learned to chew with her mouth closed. It was a sharp but warranted bit of fussiness, although almost crass, for what risked injuring a woman’s vanity more than finding fault with her chewing? Fortunately, Fei wasn’t sensitive about this because she hadn’t been aware that chewing without closing the mouth was considered impolite; she didn’t quite understand Fang Jing. Still busily chewing her sizzling beef and working her lips, she said, “You mean I make a smacking sound when I eat?”