Jia Pingwa - Ruined City

“You’re still up?” Zhou Min remarked when he returned from playing the xun.

“Yes.” Without getting up, she brushed the leaves off her body and adjusted her nightgown to cover her legs. Zhou cast a bored look at the moon. “The moon is pretty tonight.”

“Yes,” she said, wondering what Zhuang was doing at that moment. Was he reading in his study or was he already in bed? Zhuang-ge , she said silently, I must be away from you for now, for I have to be with another soul under these eaves. Keep your door open so the wind can blow in your direction and maybe startle you awake, possibly because of the soft noise. But don’t move, my Zhuang Zhidie. Close your eyes and let us begin our conversation .

When Zhou saw her still lying there after he had washed his face in the kitchen, he said, “Why aren’t you coming to bed?”

“Stop annoying me!” she said angrily. “You talk too much. Go to bed if you want.” She shuffled in her slippers out to the gate.

“Are you going out? It’s late,” he said.

“I can’t sleep. I’m going to buy some ice cream at the street corner.”

“In your nightgown?”

In her simple white nightgown, she disappeared through the gate and walked out to the lane.

Instead of buying ice cream, she borrowed the store’s phone and called Zhuang’s house. Liu Yue answered. When she asked who was calling, Tang Wan’er wondered why Liu could not recognize her voice. She asked after Zhuang and his wife.

“Ah, it’s you.” Liu Yue was happy to hear Wan’er’s voice. “It’s late. Are you all right?”

“Everything is fine,” Wan’er said. “I was just wondering if there’s any heavy-duty work that needs to be done at your house, like bringing charcoal home, carrying rice or noodles back, or changing the liquid gas tank. Zhou Min is strong, he can do all those things.” Then she heard Liu Yue call for Niu Yueqing, who asked who was on the phone. Liu Yue told her about Wan’er and her offer, and Niu Yueqing picked up the phone.

“You’re so considerate, Wan’er. Thank you very much. Why haven’t you come to see us?”

“I’d like to, but I don’t want to bother you while Zhuang Laoshi is writing.”

“He’s not home. He’s attending the Municipal People’s Congress. He won’t be back for ten days. Come on over.”

“I will.” Feeling better, she wondered if it would be easier if she went to see him. After putting down the phone, she kicked herself for not asking where the meeting was being held.

Zhou Min came home early the following evening, and began writing something after dinner. She went up to take a look, but he covered it with his hands, so she walked away and moved the TV into the bedroom to kill some time before going to bed. She saw that there was a special report on the meeting of the Municipal People’s Congress. Seeing Zhuang Zhidie on the screen, sitting on the stage, she fantasized how wonderful it would be if she were Mrs. Zhuang Zhidie. When the news reached Tongguan, where people saw Zhuang on TV, they would be talking about her, and anyone who knew her would no longer be critical. Instead they would be speechless with envy. What would the worker who was deprived of a wife say? If he knew she was with Zhou Min, he’d come after him because Zhou was no better than him in terms of status and reputation. But if she were Mrs. Zhuang, the worker would be so ashamed of his unworthiness that he would ask for a divorce on his own. This train of thought prompted her to touch herself again, and soon she was wet. When Zhou was finished, he put away his pen and paper and came into the bedroom. But they had nothing to say to one another; they turned off the lights and went to sleep. She was in the habit of sleeping naked and curling up like a kitten in his arms. He had complained about the uncomfortable sleeping arrangement and wanted to sleep in separate cocoons. She objected vehemently. On this night, though, she made a cocoon for herself, and was startled awake when she realized that he had climbed out of his cocoon and wriggled into hers.

“I’m tired.” She pushed his hands away.

Deflated, he stopped and returned to his side, but now, unable to sleep, he sat up and sighed. She ignored him, so he turned on the light and picked up a book, then threw it to the floor and sobbed, which disgusted her even more.

“Idiot. Why are you crying in the middle of the night?”

“I have so much on my mind, and yet, instead of comforting me, you pick a fight. People say a man’s home is his safe harbor, but this broken ship comes home to be battered by the wind and waves.”

“You call this home? Women depend on their men. I followed you here, abandoning a stable life, my child, my reputation, and a job. But we’re always on the move, with no idea how we’ll make it through the next day. The road ahead is shrouded in darkness. How can this be called home? And I’m always being scrutinized. The other day, when Wang Ximian’s wife humiliated me in front of everyone, you didn’t so much as let out a fart, let alone defend me. Now you want me to comfort you? Recently, you’ve left early and come home late every day, leaving me alone here with no one to talk to. Who’s here to comfort me?”

“I shoulder all my troubles because I don’t want you to worry, and yet you’re unhappy with me.”

“What troubles could you possibly have? You’re a literary figure now, with a carefree life.”

He told her about the trouble caused by his article. “If we were still in Tongguan, I would get my buddies to beat up that woman, but that tactic won’t work here. Zhuang Laoshi helped me get the job at the magazine, but now that there’s trouble, he’s a no-show. He insisted it wasn’t a romance so he could please both sides, but that woman is a force to be reckoned with. If I pressure him, he might say that what I wrote was simply not true. In the end, he could turn out to be the one who made me and then broke me.”

Apprehensive about what she was hearing, she got up to pour him a glass of water, noticing that he did look gaunt. But she was annoyed when he put his arms around her. An uncharitable thought flashed through her mind: That wouldn’t be so bad. If he lost his standing in Xijing’s literary scene, she would have more opportunity to be with Zhuang Zhidie. She struggled out of his arms and went back to her cocoon.

“Don’t blame Zhuang Laoshi. He probably has his own problems.”

“I just hope he doesn’t abandon me. But I’ve thought about it and planned my own way out.”

“What is it?”

“For now I’ll follow his plan to say that what I wrote was true, but that it was a generalization, not about a particular woman. If he sides with her and claims that what I wrote was false, then I’ll say I got my material from him. I will have my interview notes as proof that I simply wrote down what I heard.”

“But you never interviewed him. You got your material from gossip.”

“I know what to do,” Zhou assured her.

She did not respond, but her heart was racing as she turned off the light and slipped down into her cocoon.

Zhou Min rushed off to the magazine early the next morning, while Wan’er snapped on the TV, for she knew there would be a rebroadcast of the news from the night before.

Zhuang’s face appeared again. After memorizing the location of the meeting, the Gudu Hotel outside the south gate, she made herself up nicely and headed for the hotel. As expected, the entrance was decorated with colorful flags and an enormous red satin banner hung from the rooftop: “We Warmly Welcome the Representatives to the Municipal People’s Congress.” The main entrance was locked, while men with “Security” armbands guarded a side door. No one but the attendees was allowed through. Over the metal railings, she could see a row of vehicles out in the yard where the representatives were taking an after-lunch stroll. Some were picking their teeth as they took coupons to the guardhouse for cigarettes. On this side of the railing, a crowd was in an uproar over something. Intrigued by the noisy scene, she tried to push her way through, when someone stepped on her heel. She stopped unhappily to wipe her shoe with a tissue. Then she saw three greasy-haired women and a rough-looking man pressed up against the railing. The man was holding a sheet of white paper over his head: “We plead with the People’s Representatives to hear our grievance.” Under the large print was some text in small characters explaining their grievance. The three women got down on their knees when they saw the representatives in the yard. “We want to see the mayor. Let us meet with the mayor,” they shouted tearfully. The security men came up to drag them away, but the women held on to the railing; their shirts rose up to expose filthy dark bellies and shriveled nipples.