Sheng Keyi - Northern Girls - Life Goes On

After Sijiang had finished eating all her plums her mouth still continued in its habitual motion. As she watched Ah Qing rub back and forth on Bud’s scalp, she couldn’t be sure where his heart really lay.

Business at the salon had been slow recently. When Bud left, only Xiaohong, Sijiang and Ah Qing remained in the salon, each doing her own thing. Ah Ling, finally overcoming the old man, had got her wish of becoming a small business owner. Her departure had quite an impact on the other girls. Ah Qing was especially affected, and experienced frequent mood swings. Though Ah Qing had ridiculed the old man, there was no denying that Ah Ling was now indeed her own boss. Of course, if she married Bud, she could count herself as an even greater success than Ah Ling. Sijiang was thinking the same as Ah Qing, but who knew what was going on in Bud’s mind?

Si, on the other hand, never showed his face around the salon, and Xiaohong knew he was avoiding her. She’d gone to look for him once at the factory, but had not been permitted past the gate. The guard had a sharp eye, but of course Xiaohong knew that if she really worked at it, she would manage to get him to bend the rules for her. But then, she wondered in frustration, what would she say once she finally got to see Si? She browsed through the Tang poetry each day, thinking of him as she did so. This sort of food for the soul left one hanging in limbo. She felt half-dead. After enduring many days like this, Xiaohong decided to let the Supervisor fade from her mind. This only led to her falling more deeply in love with Tang poetry, a source of great amusement for Sijiang.

Sijiang did not sleep at the salon. Only Xiaohong knew that she spent her nights with Bud. Xiaohong popped round to their place a few times, one of many cheap rental houses constructed of sheet metal. In summer, it felt like a sauna. While it did not smell of semen, it was surrounded by the overflow from the neighbourhood’s sewage. It was a messy community, with vagrants ambling about during the day. There was no furniture in the house except one bed for sleeping and another upon which they piled their clothes. There was just enough space for two people to move about between the four walls. It pleased Xiaohong that Sijiang was settling into her little nest.

VII

One afternoon, Ah Qing was having a nap while Xiaohong and Sijiang chatted, sharing a bag of peanuts. Just then, two men in dark glasses came in.

‘Gentlemen, you want a wash?’ Xiaohong asked, getting up and greeting them with a big smile.

‘Come with us to the village security office.’ They did not remove their glasses from their immobile faces.

‘Why? I’ve got my temporary residence card.’ Having done nothing wrong, Xiaohong was not afraid.

‘Enough talk. Get on.’ They practically dragged her to a Yamaha motorcycle. With Xiaohong squashed in the middle between the two men, they took off in a puff of smoke. Sijiang stood for a long time like a block of wood, stunned. She could not understand why Xiaohong had been singled out, leaving her behind.

The Yamaha drove for about ten minutes before dropping Xiaohong at a courtyard and roaring off. It was crowded with all sorts of people — men and women, glamorous and plain, beautiful and ugly, anxious and unconcerned, nervous and relaxed. Those are more than just words that people use. They are the things one notices about others, formulating judgements based on the way they dress or look. Xiaohong’s eyes wandered over the courtyard and fell on a village security sign. She recognised it then as Bud’s workplace, and her heart leapt. All she had to do was go to the office and find Bud.

Just as she was thinking this, the iron gate opened and a vehicle pulling a trailer rumbled in. Less than ten minutes later, everyone had been herded into the trailer and the door slammed shut. It was pitch black inside.

Being arrested for no reason was bad enough. Now, on top of that, it was dark, and she had no idea where the vehicle was going as it rattled along. The passengers were all resigned to silence. Xiaohong’s breasts were flattened against her body, making it difficult to breathe. There was a window about the size of a small wash basin that let in a little air, but it didn’t get far into the carriage before it was absorbed by those standing closest to the window. Having inhaled it, they generously released it again, filtered now through their own garlic-scented breath so that the smell of cheap dumplings circulated throughout the trailer.

Feeling oppressed, Xiaohong resisted the urge to vomit, since she had no space to release it anyway. If she could get a small circle that was free of people, she’d gladly puke up all that she could.

After travelling for about twenty minutes, they stopped and the door opened with a whoosh . Everyone leapt quickly down from the trailer to discover it was no paradise that they had arrived in. It was a larger courtyard than the previous one, with even more people squatting or sitting on the ground, creating an open line of sight. It was different from the village security yard. This was obviously the home of some strict bureaucracy. Heavily armed police with batons dangling at their waist paced up and down, their boots clicking along the concrete. When the sound of whipping came from a shed, panic shot through the crowd. Some poor terrified soul tried to climb the wall. As the old saying goes, even dogs will climb a wall in an emergency. He was dragged down and given a good kicking by a group of officers in leather boots, while everyone else looked on. It was clearly a case of slaughtering the chicken in order to send a message to the monkey. Xiaohong watched in utter bewilderment.

There were some small shacks behind a locked iron railing. Several people stood inside eyeing those in the yard, desperate for freedom. To them, freedom was simply the chance of joining the crowd in the larger compound. Xiaohong looked at herself, standing there in the middle of all this. Sijiang would find Bud and surely he would know this place, wouldn’t he? The concrete ground was cold and hard. Xiaohong had just stood up to stretch her aching legs and rub her sore backside when the shouted order came, ‘Get down!’

A pair of boots walked towards her and she was faced with an energetic-looking fellow. ‘Please sit down.’ The officer looked at her with an expression of regret, speaking calmly.

‘Mr Policeman, I’m not sure why I’m here. What do I need to do?’ Xiaohong, sensitive to the guard’s change of tone, pounced on the opportunity. She looked at him sadly.

‘You’ll need to get your friends to bring three hundred kuai to bail you out. Tomorrow morning, everyone will be moved to the detention centre at Zhangmutou. It’s a good forty kilometres from here.’ His skin was almost as black as his boots and his expression was that of a consummate professional.

‘Eh? I shouldn’t be here. I’ve got a temporary residence card. I’m innocent, really!’ Xiaohong said, her eyes beginning to tear.

‘Hey, Dachang!’ someone shouted from the interrogation room. With a hurried glance at Xiaohong, the officer turned and walked crisply towards the shed.

‘Bloody hell! What is going on?’ Xiaohong cursed to herself as she kept a careful eye on the courtyard gate. She waited so long she thought there might be a change of season coming, but still there was no sign of Bud and Sijiang. It grew dark and rain began to fall like bombs from an enemy plane. Caught unawares by the sudden downpour, only a small portion of the crowd managed to stay dry, huddling together for shelter like a coop full of chickens. Xiaohong’s stomach churned as she shifted her weight, first to her right leg, then to her left, changing her position partly to fight off the effects of the concrete on her tired feet and partly to pass the time. Just then, she saw the officer who had ordered her to squat sitting on some steps. It looked like he was recording something in a report. After hesitating for a long time, she finally went over and stood in front of him.