Jia Pingwa - Ruined City

When he got home, Zhao Jingwu had been there with the groceries but, unable to get in, had left everything outside. Zhuang opened the door and was hard at work when Niu Yueqing came home with Wang’s wife. When she saw him squatting in the kitchen cleaning a fish, Wang’s wife yelled out, “Ai-ya! How fortunate to have a renowned writer cleaning a fish for me.”

“Zhidie, that’s enough showing off. Our house is no match for yours, my dear, so you’ll have to find a clean spot to sit. Zhidie will entertain you while I go into the kitchen.”

“Where’s Ximian?” Zhuang asked. “Why isn’t he here yet? Is he coming with Old Mrs. Wang?”

“Ximian had to go to Beijing today. He bought the ticket days ago, so he can’t get away. Old Mrs. Wang promised to come last night, but she had a headache this morning, probably because we had so much fun. We played mahjong late into the night, and it must have tired her out. She said she couldn’t make it after all, but to send some of the good food over later, a sort of token of her presence.”

“That’s too bad. She’s been never here.”

“It’s good she’s not here,” Wang’s wife said. “I’ll feel more at ease. With her around, we’d have to watch what we said.”

“You’re alone today,” Niu Yueqing said with a smile. “Just make yourself at home and do or say whatever you want.”

Niu Yueqing slipped out of her heels, put on an apron, and sent her husband and Wang’s wife into his study.

“You’ve lost weight,” Zhuang said after getting her settled. How come?”

She touched her face and said she’d lost so much weight that her face was losing its shape. Zhuang replied that she was thinner, but that actually improved her looks. Was she on a diet?

“Why would an old hag like me be on a diet? I’ve been suffering from a lack of energy since the beginning of the year. I experience chills and I catch cold easily, but no medicine works. Earlier this month I went to see an herbal doctor, who said there is no remedy for my illness, that I’m like a pot of water that will never boil. It’s the aftermath of bearing a child. He said I needed to get pregnant again so my body could have a major tune-up. How am I supposed to do that? I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

“People often say that if you try hard at fifty-nine, you can have a baby at sixty. You’re not too old. I’ll get you permission if you really want another child.”

“You’re younger than us, why don’t you have one?”

Zhuang blushed, though it had only been a casual question. Niu Yueqing heard them when she left the kitchen to get some spices from a room opposite the study, so she parted the curtain and said, “That’s a good point. We’ve decided to have one. Zhidie was busy with his career before and afraid of the distraction a baby would create. But now it’s obvious that the house is too quiet with just us two adults. I asked him when he’d be done with his essay writing, since he’s already gained a bit of undeserved fame.”

“That sounds right,” Wang’s wife agreed, while Zhuang could only feign a smile. Niu Yueqing gave him a lacerating look.

“You’re such an idiot, Zhidie,” she said. “You’ve been talking so much, you forgot to offer her something to eat.”

Zhuang hurried to get some fruit for Wang’s wife before realizing he should call Zhao Jingwu and ask why he had left. They needed help in the kitchen.

The loudspeaker in the yard croaked three times, followed by a voice:

“Zhuang Zhidie, you have guests.”

“Who could that be?” Wang’s wife asked.

“That’s so annoying. It’s Mrs. Wei, the gatekeeper. She takes her job seriously, and that’s fine, but she calls me to greet guests as if I were a prostitute waiting for her john.”

Amused by what he had said, Wang’s wife’s face crinkled with a smile. Zhuang was about to go downstairs when Niu Yueqing said from the kitchen, “We have important guests today, so turn everyone else away. Just have the old lady say you’re out.”

“I also invited Meng and Zhou Min and their wives.”

Niu Yueqing paused.

“You and your plans. All right, then, the more the merrier. But Meng Yunfang talks nonstop,” she whispered. “How will we be able to ask for a loan with him around?”

“Why don’t you ask her now?”

“Why must you avoid difficult issues? You’re like a turtle hiding its head!”

Zhuang left with a laugh. Niu Yueqing brought a kettle to the study, where she added hot water to Wang’s wife’s tea. She then broached the subject, and Wang’s wife agreed at once to lend them the money. Before long, footsteps sounded on the staircase, followed by Meng’s raspy voice.

“Where is Wang Ximian’s wife?”

The women stopped talking and came out of the study. Meng was standing by the door.

“It’s been a year since I last saw you,” he said. “People were saying you’re showing your age, but you actually look younger than Xia Jie, with fresher, softer, tender skin. Are you making us all old before our time? Now I know how Wang Ximian can be so creative: his source of inspiration is forever young.”

“Listen to you. I’m just glad you’re not saying bad things about me,” Wang’s wife said. “Why not swap with Old Wang if you’re interested in me?”

Meng turned to his wife. “Sounds good to me, and you’re probably even more eager to swap than I am. You’d have a better life with him, since he gets thousands for a painting.”

Xia Jie glared at her husband, but said with a smile, “Wang could never be interested in me, and you, you would be a perfect cook for his wife.”

Wang’s wife playfully pinched Xia’s mouth, and the two women horsed around like children. Meng kept his eyes on Wang’s wife as he sat down to have some tea.

“Since you don’t believe me when I say you look young, I’ll ask Zhidie to note the blaze above your head.”

Startled, she asked, “I have a blaze above my head?”

“All animals have them. The size and brightness indicate the length and strength of vitality.”

“You probably didn’t know that Meng Laoshi is studying qigong,” Zhuang said.

“I heard that, and I’m intrigued,” Wang’s wife said.

“There’s nothing intriguing about it. I now have a complete grasp of Plum Strategy of Change and The Sixty Heavenly Stems , and I’ve read The Compendium of Imperial Prophecies three times. I’ve also given three talks on The Book of Changes and am now focused on Master Shao’s Magic Numbers , a book that is a storehouse of knowledge. Once I have a total understanding of the book, I will be able to know, in great detail, what people were in previous lives, what they will become after their death, who their parents were, when they were born, whom they will marry, and whether they will have sons or daughters.”

“If you’re right,” Zhuang said, “then everything is predestined and there is no need to work hard.”

“Of course there’s predestination, but that doesn’t exempt us from striving hard. I have given the question considerable thought and can say that we can achieve total fulfillment in life precisely by exerting ourselves. There are few original copies of Master Shao’s Magic Numbers circulating inside or outside China, and though there is a book to unlock the secrets in it, it’s nearly impossible to find a copy. It took me considerable effort, but I have finally deciphered two numbers out of a six-digit series. Don’t make light of this, because this has stumped even Master Zhixiang at the Yunhuang Temple, and the book seems to take possession of everyone who studies it.”

“Yunfang, enough with your rambling already. Your job today is to cook, as usual,” Yueqing said to him.