Jia Pingwa - Ruined City

“Hong Jiang admires you, Jingwu, so respect his views and talk things over with him.”

As they were leaving, she let Zhao walk out first before stuffing a piece of fabric into Hong’s hands. “Someone brought this from Shanghai for me,” she whispered. “It will be perfect for a blazer for Xiaoka. Put it away so Jingwu won’t see it, or he’ll be unhappy with me.”

The gallery kept Zhuang too busy to visit Tang Wan’er for several days; she was as anxious as an ant in a frying pan. There were changes in her body: she had no appetite, her eyelids were puffy, and bile kept rising up. Suspicion sent her to the hospital, where a test confirmed that she was pregnant. After arriving in Xijing, Zhou Min had insisted that there be no children as long as they lacked a permanent home. He took precautions every time, keeping her safe from pregnancy. But after beginning her affair with Zhuang, she had begun taking birth control pills. She could not carry them with her all the time, and when an opportunity arose, her desire for intimacy trumped the need for contraception. Luckily she hadn’t gotten pregnant after a few of those episodes, which had so emboldened her that she stopped taking them altogether. Now she knew that the physical signs would give her away sooner or later; it was all she could do to hold off until Zhou left home before throwing up. She couldn’t wait to tell Zhuang, hoping he’d come up with a solution and give her courage; she was desperate to tell him how miserable she was. But he did not show up after she sent the pigeon twice with a message. She became suspicious, wondering if he was avoiding her or had been detained by something else. Looking him up at his house was out of the question, so she could only shed private tears. The baby would not be born, she was sure of that. Even if Zhuang still loved her, she would have to have an abortion after he came to see her. But when would he come? Why not take care of the problem herself, instead of suffering all that fear and anguish? She congratulated herself for coming up with the idea. The pregnancy was proof that Zhuang was not infertile; taking care of it herself meant that she would not look pampered or cause him any trouble. He would surely feel she was better than his wife and would love her even more. So one morning after Zhou left for work, she went to a clinic for an abortion. A woman waiting her turn was so frightened by the bloody mess, she began to cry. The woman disgusted Tang.

“Where’s your husband? Why isn’t he here with you?” the doctor asked.

“He’s waiting outside in a hired car,” she replied, but was sad when she walked out of the treatment room. After sitting in the lounge for a while, she calmed down and, feeling strangely relaxed, smiled and said to herself: “I, Tang Wan’er, could swallow a brick and shit fine tiles.”

She got up to go home. When she walked past Meng Yunfang’s lane, she was thirsty, though she felt fine. She decided to stop in for a drink of water and to ask about Zhuang’s whereabouts. Meng wasn’t home; Xia Jie was inside feeling bored.

“I was going to get you to go out with me, and here you are. A see-all, know-all fox fairy.”

“Yes, a fox fairy. And I smelled a stinky fox fart way over here,” Wan’er said. “Look at you. Has someone made you unhappy?”

“Who else?”

“Are you upset that Meng Laoshi went with Zhuang Laoshi? You’re not a child anymore, so why act like you have to tie your man to your belt?”

“Zhuang Laoshi has been too busy with the gallery to find time for him. I wouldn’t be so upset if they were just sitting somewhere talking. There’s this guy from Xinjiang who seems to know everything but isn’t good at anything. Yunfang treats him like a god and keeps inviting him over. He even got his son to be the man’s disciple. I was so mad I sent them away. I don’t want to talk about him. What’s wrong, Wan’er? You’re so pale.”

Tang felt better now that she had learned that Zhuang was tied up with gallery business. “Really? I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I walked too fast on my way here and I’m thirsty. Do you have any brown sugar? Could you make me a glass of sugar water?”

Xia got up to get the water. “Not sleeping well? Maybe you and Zhou Min should give it a rest at night. Why drink water with brown sugar on a hot day like this?”

“I have cold qi in my stomach. The doctor told me to drink it.” The water made her sweat and energized her. They chatted for a while. Xia suggested that they go for a walk. Tang wanted to go home for a nap, but Xia was so insistent that she couldn’t say no.

They walked out through the city’s south gate in high spirits, but when Tang felt a dull pain down below, she leaned against the bridgehead and said, “Let’s rest here awhile.” She gazed at the riverside park. A few puffy clouds and a brilliant sun hung high in the sky. The water in the city moat ran loudly past clumps of frog eggs congealed in waterweeds. Some of the eggs had hatched, releasing countless little tadpoles. The sight brought a smile to Tang’s face, but she avoided the reference when Xia asked her what she was smiling about. Instead she said, “Look at the wind.” A gust of wind rose from the water, climbed the riverbank, and crossed over the railings around the park, where it eddied and refused to die down. She had casually mentioned the wind, but now their attention was drawn to a tree it was attacking, a river locust whose trunk had been split in two. Interestingly, a large rock was inlaid at the split.

“The two sides of the split were quite close at first, but a gardener put in a rock to keep them apart. As the tree grew bigger and taller, the rock got stuck in there,” Xia said.

“What does the tree remind you of?”

“It looks like a Y.”

“Look again,” Tang said.

“An upside-down character for man, 人.”

“What kind of man?” Tang insisted.

“Just like a man. What else is there to see?”

“Look at the rock.”

“You little slut. How in the world did you think of that?” Finally understanding what Tang was getting at, Xia pinched her; they giggled as they got tangled up in their horseplay, drawing the attention of passersby.

“No more. People are looking at us,” Xia said.

“Who cares, they’re just looking.”

“Be honest with me, Wan’er. How many times can Zhou Min give it to you in a day? You’re like a nymphomaniac. Have you seen how thin he’s gotten?”

“You have it all wrong. We barely do it once a month, and we’ve just about forgotten it altogether.”

“I don’t believe you. Not counting Zhou Min, I’m sure you could stop any man in his tracks.”

“Then I’d be a real fox fairy.”

“That reminds of something. Last night I was reading Strange Tales from a Scholar’s Studio , and the stories about foxes and ghosts frightened me. Yunfang said he wasn’t afraid of fox fairies and was in fact wishing that one would open the window and come in late at night. I told him to dream on. With his stinky body, not even fleas or bedbugs care to bite him. When I went to bed, I marveled over Pu Songling’s fantastic stories. How could a fox become a fairy? If there’s a woman everyone could love, I’ve only seen one in my life, and that’s you.”

“When I read Pu Songling,” Tang Wan’er said, “he strikes me as the romantic type. He must have had many lovers. He loved them but could not be with them forever, so his longing turned them into fox fairies in his stories.”

“Where did you get a thought like that? Have you fallen for someone, or is someone in love with you?”

With Zhuang Zhidie’s image filling her mind, Tang smiled, her eyes turning into crescent moons as she blushed. “It was just a thought. Where would I get a lover? The world is strange, Xia Jie. If there are men, there have to be women — how do you feel when you’re with Meng Laoshi?”