Jia Pingwa - Ruined City

It finally dawned on Zhuang that this had been the root cause of his depression. He had failed to notice the girl’s insights all this time. Now she was leaving and would cease to be both a maid and someone he loved. Her comments were a souvenir. Could it be that she was like a candle that shines the brightest just before it goes out, or a lantern that fades away after emitting the strongest light? He looked up at the girl, who was still in the grip of her emotions.

“Liu Yue,” he said softly. She rushed toward him, and they were immediately locked in an embrace. Both were in tears.

“You’re right, Liu Yue. I created everything and then I destroyed it all. Nothing can be done about that now, and I am probably beyond saving. You’re still young, so be sure to start a new life once you’re married.”

Her tears fell onto his arms. “I’m afraid I can’t save myself once I’m with Dazheng,” she said. “Then what will I do? I’m scared, really scared. I’ll be his tomorrow, so I beg you to let me feel like Tang Wan’er on this final night.” Closing her eyes, she untied the belt of her robe. She was naked, her body like the jade-white flesh of a lychee with its bright red shell opened. He quietly examined her and moved his desk lamp over so that it would shine on her. ☐☐ ☐☐ ☐☐ [The author has deleted 200 words.] She cried out as the sofa inched toward the door until it bumped noisily against the jamb and jolted them both. Her head was bent at an angle, but when he tried to straighten out her body, she said, “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” She kicked her feet against the door, knocking a scroll off the wall and sending it falling down to cover them. “The scroll is ruined,” she said, but neither made any attempt to remove it. ☐☐ ☐☐ ☐☐ [The author has deleted 422 words.]

“I’m so happy, Laoshi,” she said as she was leaving the smoky room. “By this time tomorrow my body will be under that cripple, but my heart will stay in this room.”

“Don’t talk like that, Liu Yue. You should hate me.”

“You needn’t worry about that.” She walked out and shut the door behind her. He listened to her receding footsteps and the sound of her opening another door. Then he collapsed onto the sofa.

. . .

Niu Yueqing got up at the crack of the dawn to tidy up the room and cook the congee before she went in to wake up Liu Yue. The girl got up and, embarrassed, went to get Zhuang, so they could eat together. After breakfast, she sat in the living room to brush her hair, paint her brows, place flowers in her hair, and put on her necklace and earrings, while insisting that Niu Yueqing and Zhuang sit next to her as her consultants. Two hours later, she was finally ready from head to toe, just as thunderous firecrackers went off. Niu Yueqing told her to take off her shoes and sit down on her bed, as she flung open the front door. Outside, a contingent of bridal escorts, who had come in twenty-two sedans, overflowed onto the streets outside the gate. Old Mrs. Wei, who had been given a red envelope containing money, tottered back and forth, smiling at each escort and keeping a close watch to stop any idlers from entering the compound gate. Dazheng, with a red flower in his lapel, was helped in to kowtow and bow to Zhuang Zhidie and Niu Yueqing, but Zhuang stopped him when he stretched his weak right leg back to get down on his knees. Zhuang said a bow would be enough, so Dazheng bowed deeply before going into the bedroom to put Liu Yue’s shoes on her. He then carried her off the bed and pinned a flower as red as his own to her dress. She watched him quietly, and when he brought her hand up to his lips to kiss it after pinning on the flower, she twisted the corners of her mouth and said to Niu Yueqing and Zhuang, who were standing at the door to watch, “He’s copying Westerners.” Dazheng was so embarrassed, even his neck turned red. The escorts sat down to eat, drink, and smoke, admiring the scrolls on the wall and checking out the room full of books through the study door. When the clock struck ten, someone said, “Time to go.” An escort who was sprawled atop the gate entrance lit a huge string of firecrackers and let it hang down, creating an ear-shattering roar. Taking Liu’s hand in his, Dazheng started down the stairs, as three cameras clicked and a video camera rolled. He giggled and she glared at him, so he put on a serious look. Straining to keep his balance, he swayed from side to side and kept bumping into her. In the end, instead of letting him hold her hand, she clutched his hand tightly in hers, turning his arm into a lever to steady his body movements.

The firecrackers continued to explode by the gate, sending scraps of red paper flying around like butterflies. Afraid that one of the firecrackers might come loose and fall on her head, Liu Yue rushed through the gate, nearly sending Dazheng to the ground when she let go of his arm too quickly. “Liu Yue!” Niu Yueqing cried out next to her. “Liu Yue!” She turned to wait for him, and saw that the yard was filled with people. This time she looped her arm in his and stayed as close as possible to prevent him from staggering again. “That’s good,” Niu Yueqing said as she had four people sprinkle confetti over them, immediately bathing the couple in glittering gold and silver. The escorts began transferring the dowry into cars, forming a long procession as they walked out into the yard in an orderly fashion for the sake of onlookers, who made comments about how the bride was a head taller than the groom, how she would surely be the head of the new family, and how he would soon be cuckolded. Someone countered that the groom, being the mayor’s son, must be ill tempered and would surely assert his authority and power over the bride. Another one chimed in that the groom had to wait for his pretty bride to help him onto the bed before he could beat her. Liu Yue heard every word and could not wait to get into the bridal sedan.

The wedding ceremony was held in the Xijing Hotel restaurant. When the car carrying Zhuang and Niu Yueqing stopped at the hotel entrance, they saw Dazheng and Liu Yue enter the restaurant, surrounded by a large crowd. Firecrackers went off nonstop amid loud, festive music. They were surprised to see so many people.

“The seats of honor have been reserved for you,” they were told. “The mayor and his wife are waiting for you inside.”

They walked into the restaurant to see dazzling lanterns everywhere and smiling people dressed in brightly colored clothes. Waitresses in qipaos shuttled from table to table to lay out flower baskets, fruit, pastries, melon seeds, cigarettes, tea, and soft drinks. The guests, mostly people they did not know, were making quite a din. After they each accepted a bouquet of flowers from a child at the door, Dazheng and Liu Yue were directed to walk down a red silk runner six feet wide and fifty feet long. At the end of the silk walkway was a slightly raised red-carpeted platform, encircled with pots of flowers. A microphone had been set up in front of four tables for the guests of honor. Huang Defu, the master of ceremonies, told the couple to turn around, then invited the guests with cameras to take pictures. The guests noisily called for the couple to stand closer, to smile, to raise their bouquets, for one of them to put a hand on the other’s shoulder or place an arm around the other’s waist. The couple refused to comply, but the guests would not take no for an answer; someone even went up to make them pose for the cameras, drawing laughter and loud cheers.

Zhuang paused at one end of the red walkway to read a couplet by Zheng Xie that had been copied into a book sprinkled with gold powder: A spring wind boldly combs the willows / Evening rain secretly nourishes the flowers . Next to the couplet was Respectful Congratulations to Dazheng and Liu Yue on Their Wedding , surrounded by hundreds of signatures from well-wishers. Aware that attendees at meetings and ceremonies usually sign their names on rice paper, Zhuang wondered who had come up with the idea of using a piece of silk instead, which was then turned into a walkway. As he admired the unusual and amusing setup, someone came over with a pen: “Please sign your name.” When he did, the man cried out, “Ah, you’re Mr. Zhuang Zhidie!” Zhuang nodded with a smile, and the man said, “I’m a fan of literature. I’m so happy to meet you here today.”