Jia Pingwa - Ruined City

“What do you do?”

“I’m with the Writers’ Association, the Zuoxie.”

“Zuoxie, oh, a shoemaker,” she said, mishearing his words. You guys all take shortcuts with your shoes. I bought this pair last week, and the front’s already come unglued.”

“Not a shoemaker. I’m a writer. You know what a newspaper office is, don’t you? Well, Zuoxie is like that.”

The woman picked up the tray of persimmons, turned around, walked inside, and locked the door behind her, making all the old women laugh.

“What’s not fake these days?” one of them said. “Do you believe you can bite your own ears?”

“I think I could if I had a ladder,” Zhuang replied.

“Ah, so you’re a clown. I’ll show you how I do it.” She opened her mouth to reveal two rows of shiny white teeth, which she nudged with her tongue into her hand and put around her ear. Zhuang laughed.

“Cosmetic surgery is all the rage nowadays,” she said. “You can have fake eyebrows and fake noses. I even heard of fake breasts and fake buttocks. You can’t tell what’s real and what’s fake on the girls walking around these days.”

The humor and witty comments kept Zhuang around for a while before he checked his watch and saw that more than two hours had passed. He said good-bye and left for the camera shop. As he walked away, one of the women said, “He could be fake, too.”

Zhuang overheard her comment and began to wonder. Recalling what he had done with Tang Wan’er, which seemed like a dream now, he had the nagging feeling that he might not be Zhuang Zhidie after all. If he was, how would a coward like him have the nerve to do something so daring? If he wasn’t, then who was he? He paused to light a cigarette, and for the first time in his life, he noticed that the shadow of his cigarette smoke was not grayish-black, but dark red. Abruptly turning his head, he saw an elongated figure jump to the base of a wall, a sight so startling it gave him goose bumps. But when he looked closer, he realized it was his shadow, cast onto the wall by the reflection of sunlight from the opened glass door of a store. Not a man who was afraid of ghosts or the supernatural, he was nonetheless scared by his own shadow. He looked around to make sure that no one had seen his jittery state before rushing over to pick up his photos. He had another shock when he looked at the pictures of himself with Niu Yueqing and Tang Wan’er. Everything in his living room — the table and chairs, even the jade carving on the screens — had come out nice and clear, but the people were so faint they might as well have been invisible. Tang Wan’er and Niu Yueqing looked like disembodied heads set atop two pairs of shoulders. Everyone else looked the same in all the other photos. He asked the clerk what had happened, only to be scolded for bringing in negatives like that, complaining that it could ruin the shop’s reputation. Not daring to say more, Zhuang walked out, only to find that he could not start his scooter; he had no choice but to push it home, feeling quite dazed.

When Liu Yue saw him, she asked where he had been. He told her he had gone to have the photos developed. She asked to see them, complaining that she wasn’t photogenic. Zhao Jingwu had told her that a photo alone would not be enough in seeking a husband, and that she had to meet the man in person. Zhuang was reluctant to show them to her — she was too eager — so he put her off by lying that they weren’t ready. Her excitement dampened, she lowered her voice to tell him that Niu Yueqing was so upset over a magazine that she’d gone to bed. Feeling suddenly drained, he put the photos out of his mind and took the magazine to read in his study. He emerged a while later, smiled at Liu Yue, and said softly, “Get her up for dinner.”

“I don’t dare.”

He paused before walking into the bedroom.

Niu Yueqing was asleep, wrapped in a terrycloth blanket, with a rush fan over her face.

“Why are you in bed at this hour?” Zhuang shook her. “Get up, it’s dinnertime.”

She ignored him. Zhuang tugged at her again. She rolled onto her back, but her eyes remained tightly shut. Liu Yue was standing at the door, stifling a giggle with her hand.

“Yueqing. Stop pretending to be asleep,” Zhuang said. She didn’t move. As if to see whether she was breathing, he put his hand under her nose. She snapped into a sitting position.

“I didn’t feel any warm air,” he said with a laugh, “so I thought you were dead.”

“You wish!”

“Go check the weather, Liu Yue, and see why it’s suddenly windy and rainy on a clear day.”

“The sheets are drying on the balcony,” Niu Yueqing said.

Liu Yue laughed as she disappeared into the kitchen. Realizing what Zhuang had been getting at, Niu Yueqing also laughed, but quickly frowned and cursed him: “You really know how to stir up trouble, don’t you? Are you proud of your past? Are you trying to prove how carefree you can be by showing off a romantic liaison with a famous person?”

“You must have read the article by Zhou Min,” he said. “It’s pure rubbish. You know all about what happened between Jing Xueyin and me.”

“Then why did you allow him to write it?”

“I had no idea he was going to write about this. You know I never read articles like that. I just thought he was new in town and could use me as his material to get started. I would never have allowed it to be published if I had known this was what he had in mind.”

“Yes, he’s new, so how did he come to know so much?”

“Maybe he heard Yunfang and others gossiping about me.”

“But that could only have come from you. She’s the daughter of a high-ranking cadre, and you were probably bragging about an affair with her to bolster your image.”

“Do I need her to raise my status?”

“Now I see. You didn’t end your relationship with her, and now you talk about it for vicarious gratification.” Niu Yueqing was getting progressively angrier and was soon in tears.

Liu Yue ran in from the kitchen when she heard them arguing.

“Don’t be upset, Dajie. There’s no need to be unhappy. Zhuang Laoshi is a celebrity, and things like this happen to famous people all the time. It’s no big deal.”

“You make it sound as if it really did happen, Liu Yue,” Zhuang said. Niu Yueqing smiled as she took the girl in her arms.

“Liu Yue is new here and is right to laugh at us for fighting.”

“We often bite our tongues, and every couple fights,” Liu Yue said. “With my previous employers, the husband had a woman outside, and someone told the wife. She said she didn’t care, so long as the money he earned came to her, not to anyone else.”

Niu Yueqing laughed as she pinched the girl’s mouth.

“All right, you’re not angry anymore, so let’s eat,” Liu Yue said.

“It doesn’t really bother me, it’s just that your Zhuang Laoshi’s reputation will suffer. But I know he’s not like that. He may be an adulterer in his mind, but he doesn’t have either the nerve or the muscle to actually do something. I don’t believe anything people say about him. What really bothers me is how he can brag when he’s in a good mood without any regard for the consequences.” There were more tears. Liu Yue was about to say something when they heard a knock at the door. Quickly drying her eyes, Niu Yueqing signaled Zhuang to go into his study.

“Who is it?” she called out.

“It’s me, Zhou Min.”

Niu Yueqing opened the door with a smile. “Didn’t you go home after work? Well, you came at the right time, you can join us for dinner.”

Zhou said he had gotten off early and had eaten at home. He was in the habit of strolling by the city wall in the mornings and evenings, so he had stopped by on the way. Zhuang came out of the study and said he was glad that Zhou had dropped by. He invited him to stay for a fried millet cake. Zhou begged off, so Zhuang put a tape into the cassette player for Zhou to enjoy some music while he sat down with Niu Yueqing and Liu Yue for dinner.