Jia Pingwa - Ruined City

She got up again to open the door: still no one, not even a breeze. When she got back inside, she lay down without a word. At about four in the morning, the old lady sat up.

“Who’s that?” she asked. “Who’s out there?” She called out to Liu Yue, who pretended to be asleep by snoring loudly. The old lady came over to pinch her nose.

“How can you sleep like that?” she groused. “Someone’s at the door.”

Liu Yue sat up and said, “Do you not want me to get some sleep just because you can’t? Who’s knocking on the door? It’s a ghost.” She scared herself so much just by saying it that she pulled the blanket over her head and lay back down.

“You call yourself a maid? More like a young mistress of the house. You won’t even open the door when someone’s knocking.”

Upset by the comment, Liu Yue got up angrily. There was still no one there. But instead of going back into the bedroom, she lay down on the sofa in the living room.

When day broke and Niu Yueqing got up, she was shocked to see the girl sleeping on the sofa looking tired, with dark circles under her eyes. After hearing Liu Yue’s explanation, she said, “Mother is losing it again, I’m afraid. When Zhuang Laoshi returns today, I’ll have him sleep in her room, since he likes to hear her talk about the ties between humans and ghosts. You can sleep in my room.”

Zhuang came home early that morning and asked where Niu Yueqing was. Liu Yue told him she’d gone to work. Zhuang wondered why she was working on a Sunday, so Liu told him that she was helping someone out with leftover buns, relating the story about how Zhuang’s mentee was having trouble selling the buns he had steamed, how Niu Yueqing had told the man that her office kitchen would buy them and that she would pay for them herself, and how Niu Yueqing was now trying to get the four sacks of buns delivered to a glue manufacturer.

“Another kind deed,” Zhuang said before going to see the old lady, who naturally started ranting about the events of the night before. His interest piqued, he asked for details, telling Liu Yue he wanted to write a series of magic realist novels, which meant nothing to the girl, who made a pot of tea and sent it into the study. Zhuang was barely into the third sheet when he heard the old lady tell Liu Yue that someone was knocking on the door. She went to the door, but the old lady stopped her from opening it.

“Don’t,” she said. “Last night I thought it was someone I knew, but you said no one was out there, so it must have been a demon. Why keep knocking at our door? Don’t open it. No matter what, don’t open the door.” Then she shut the windows in her room and drew the curtains before shutting her daughter’s bedroom door and telling Liu Yue to shut the kitchen windows. She refused because she was cooking, and that led to an argument. Frustrated, she went into the study to talk to Zhuang, who went to talk to his mother-in-law.

“On a hot day you have to keep the windows open, Mother, or the house will be too stuffy.”

“Won’t that thing come in through the window if it can’t open the door?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “Hot, you say? How hot can it be?” She licked her finger and touched Zhuang’s nipples under his shirt, but when she moved on to Liu Yue, the girl blushed and held her hands in front of her chest.

“There’s no need to be afraid in broad daylight,” Zhuang said. “Come on, I’ll go with you to see who’s knocking. If it’s a demon, I’ll cut it down to size.” He took an exercising sword down from the wall.

The three of them walked up to the door, and Zhuang opened it. Nothing stirred on the other side. The old lady took a careful look and fixed her gaze on the door.

“See there!” she called out. “Those really are ox demons and snake spirits, straight from the Cultural Revolution.”

“Where? What?” Liu Yue asked.

“That’s an ox and that’s a snake, a two-tailed snake,” the old lady said. “What’s this? I’ve never seen anything this strange, with two horns and eight legs. This one’s human, with long teeth. Another human here, with a pig’s head.”

Zhuang saw nothing, but a chill rose inside when he recalled the photos they had taken together.

“It’s obvious to me, why can’t you see anything?” the old lady said. “They must have imprinted their shadows on the door when they came knocking. Can’t you see them either, Liu Yue? Can’t you see the images? Can’t you tell that this door is thicker than it was before? It’s thicker with all those layers of their shadows.”

With a shake of his head, Zhuang could tell that the old lady was sliding back again. He was also thinking that those defective photos must have resulted from a problem with the camera or a mistake in the developing room. Liu Yue, who was watching him the whole time, was relieved when she saw him shake his head. “The door is thicker, Aunty,” she said with a giggle as she looked away.

“Yes, it is, Mother,” Zhuang echoed. “Now stay inside and don’t worry. Nothing can happen with Liu Yue and me here.” He returned to his study and resumed writing.

The old lady was agitated the rest of the day, going frequently to the study to tell Zhuang that someone was knocking again or that they should not open the windows. He was clearly annoyed, and when his wife came home, he told her that he could not get anything done at home. She went in and complained to her mother, only to have the old lady insist that they go see the monk in the temple for another amulet. Zhuang phoned Meng Yunfang, who came over with a paper amulet, which he pasted on the doorframe. Meng told Zhuang that Huiming had drawn the amulet, not Abbot Zhixiang at the Yunhuang Temple.

“Tomorrow is Huiming’s first day as the head of the nunnery. She asked me to invite some writers and artists to take part in the festivities. Want to come along?”

“So Huiming is taking over.”

“That little nun is very accomplished. She can do pretty much anything she wants to. If she were in politics, she could very well be a vice mayor.”

“I’m actually worried that she’ll return to secular life one day.” Zhuang smiled at Meng.

“What do you mean?”

Zhuang just smiled, then changed the subject. “Let me have the key,” he said, lowering his voice. “I’m going over there to write.”

“That place is wonderful. There’s no one to bother you. I made another key, so you can keep this one.”

“I’m going out with Meng Laoshi,” Zhuang said to Liu Yue. “I may be back tonight, but if not, I’ll be at his place. Tomorrow morning the new head of the nunnery will assume her position, and we’re invited to attend the celebration. Tell your dajie that I have to attend, since the city’s leaders will be there.”

After walking through the gate, Meng asked, “Why won’t you be back tonight?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“What do I do if Yueqing calls and asks to speak with you?”

“Just tell her we’re working on an article. Did you finish that one for the mayor?”

“It’s done. I already sent it to him for his approval.”

“He’ll know all about it once it’s published.”

They said good-bye, and Zhuang headed straight for Tang Wan’er’s house.

She was packing when he surprised her by striding in, proof that his foot had healed.

“You came as soon as your foot was better,” she remarked with a clap of her hands. Zhuang went up to kiss her. “Where else would I go for my first stop?”

After making him a cup of coffee, Wan’er stuck her head out the door to look up and down the street.

“Come sit down and talk to me. What are you looking for?”

“Zhou Min went to buy toothpaste. Why is it taking him so long? When he comes home, I’ll send him out to buy a roasted chicken.”