Jia Pingwa - Ruined City

She refused the money and he grunted unhappily, so she took it and walked out, locking the gate behind her.

Zhuang spent the night away from home. Zhou Min returned and woke him up before Wan’er came in with a new outfit, to Zhou’s displeasure. She offered to cook something as an apology to Zhuang Laoshi. After they ate by candlelight, Zhou asked Zhuang to stay for the night, while calling Meng over for a game of mahjong.

“You’re all so dissolute, how can you call yourselves literary figures? I thought we’d be talking about literature tonight, but now you’re getting the mahjong tiles out.”

“Why does playing mahjong make us dissolute?” Meng, who had just arrived, asked. “Hu Shi said, ‘Reading makes one forget mahjong, and playing mahjong makes one forget reading.’ In my view, both reading and playing mahjong make you forget all your troubles. Zhidie and Zhou Min got themselves into a whole lot of trouble by reading and writing, so how are we supposed to forget our troubles if we don’t play mahjong?”

They ended up playing all night. When day broke, Meng invited Zhuang to his house, where he spent three days. Once they went to a gathering of painters at a hotel, where the manager treated everyone to a sumptuous meal, then entertained them with pop singers. These artists live such a carefree life , Zhuang said to himself. This must have been what it felt like when the ancients went on outings with courtesans .

“Have you noticed that singer?” Meng whispered. “Isn’t she a charmer? When she laughs, the tip of her tongue quivers between her teeth. That is so sexy. When we meet at the House of Imperfection Seekers, we should invite these singers along.”

“Your eyes are bad, so you ought to close them and get some rest,” Zhuang said. Meng was so upset he pinched Zhuang on the leg. After belting out some songs, the singers left with twenty yuan each as payment. The hotel manager then put up a table, laid out paper, ink, and brushes, and held his hands together politely to say, “You’re all celebrities and it’s a rare opportunity for you to grace my humble establishment. I’m also a lover of great calligraphy, so do you mind?”

“I thought the hotel provided a quiet place for artists to gather for casual conversation,” Zhuang whispered to one of the artists.

“Painters are actually more popular than writers, but the eggs are the reason you feed the hens. So we’re more unscrupulous than writers in the end.”

One at a time, the painters went up to knock out a quick painting, then took out a seal to stamp the piece. “It upsets you to have to do it, yet you come prepared with your seal?” Zhuang whispered.

“We all know what’s expected when someone invites us to a meal.”

Zhuang sat idly by with a smile, but before his smile disappeared, the manager came to ask him for his work. When Zhuang told the man he didn’t know how to paint, the manager said he wasn’t hoping for a painting. “You’re a writer and calligrapher, so why don’t you write epigrams on their paintings?”

Zhuang had no choice but to write a few lines on each painting before leaving a thumbprint, since he didn’t have his seal with him.

“That’s even better. It’s the real thing, no one can fake it.”

After mingling with the painters, Zhuang went with Zhao Jingwu to the house of an antique collector to see his collection, to the opera, where they cheered the actors, to a snack street for something to eat, and to the Yunhuang Temple to watch Master Zhixiang teach qigong. More than two weeks went by like that, and then he received a subpoena indicating the first court date. A quick check told him it was less than two weeks away, so he gave up his outside activities and went home to wait. Zhou Min and Zhong Weixian came to see him several times to go over the contents of their rebuttal. They hired five lawyers, each of whom required a personal visit from Zhuang, since they were taking the case because of him. For them, it was a boost to their legal career to defend a celebrity, whether they won or lost. Zhuang had to smile and be cordial to them, but a problem arose regarding what they all should say. The lawyers first did an analysis of the purpose behind Jing Xueyin’s suit: under normal circumstances, a woman should feel honored to have an entanglement with a celebrity. So was it possible that Jing was stirring up trouble for publicity? Zhuang immediately nixed that idea and told them Jing wasn’t that kind of woman. They then argued that if they discounted that possibility, the only way to win would be to confirm the existence of a former romantic relationship. One of them criticized Zhuang for writing that stupid letter and asked him to declare in court that he had concealed the truth and had written it purely to smooth things over so as to avoid further confrontation. Now that the other side had resorted to legal measures, he must reiterate and reconfirm their romantic past. When he heard that recommendation, he knew that the lawyers had been influenced by opinions offered by Zhou Min, who would emerge guilt-free if they followed this line of logic, since the court would think that Zhuang had supplied the material for the article. What made it hard for him was how he could bring up the nonexistent affair to Jing’s face. Even if he could force himself to lie, he would have violated her right to privacy, since it was a private matter he had bragged about and agreed for someone to write about when both he and Jing were married. Besides, if the court were to question the time when what was printed in the article had taken place, it would appear that he had been seeing Jing while he was dating Niu Yueqing and after he married her. Jing’s husband would never let her off the hook, and Niu Yueqing would feel sordid. Zhuang refused to agree to that line of defense and insisted on his original idea.

“Zhuang Laoshi is such a decent person,” Zhou Min said with a cold smile. “He’s always the soft-hearted one.”

That upset Zhuang. “I’ll wash my hands of the whole matter if you insist on approaching it this way. I’ll tell the court that what was written in the article wasn’t completely groundless, but it was embellished and exaggerated. I didn’t write the essay, nor did I read it beforehand. I never talked to you about any of this, and I hadn’t even met you yet when you wrote it. My rebuttal would be, I should not be a defendant. If my rebuttal is rejected and I’m found guilty, I will go to jail.”

They were both scowling, so Meng stepped in to mediate, telling them to cool off and think it over before they met for another discussion. Meng then took Zhuang out with him.

“It’s no big deal, so why get upset? What can they do to you if you lose the case? Your fame comes from your works, so your reputation can’t be ruined so long as you continue to write good works. If you ask me, the greatest pity would be losing a paramour you’ve known for years. You don’t love women. If you did, I could be your pimp and get you eight or ten any time you wanted. You’ve been to lots of entertainment spots recently, and you’ve seen how happy other people can be. Why don’t you emulate them? I’m going to take you somewhere today I’m sure you’ve never been, and it’ll be an eye-opener.”

“I’ve been pretty much everywhere but to the brothels near the train station.”

“So the suit has been a wake-up call for you, and now you do want to go visit them?”

“Listen to you. You seem to know everything. If you’re so good, go get me one.”

They went to Meng’s house, where Meng told Xia Jie to go with Tang Wan’er for a game of mahjong with Niu Yueqing.

“Good idea. I was bored stiff. But I have one condition: Don’t bring Meng Jin over when I’m gone,” she said before changing clothes and leaving with a roll of bills.