Life, p.18
Life, page 18
Huang Yaping quickly reoutfitted Gao Jialin according to her own aesthetic: a brown jacket with a large foldover collar, sky-blue straight-legged pants, and a beige windbreaker. She permed her hair and tied it up with a red ribbon, looking very romantic. She was a vision in the latest fashions from Shanghai.
Sometimes, when they came back into town, they would ride together on one bicycle, as if asking people to look. Huang Yaping pedaled happily through the streets, while Jialin sat in back.
They really attracted a lot of attention. The whole city was talking about them. Some people called them part-time foreigners.
But they didn’t take notice of public opinion. They were obsessed with their new liaison romantique.
At first, Jialin didn’t want it to be like this, but Huang Yaping said that they wouldn’t be around the city for much longer, so why not let people see? She wanted Jialin to be more laid back so that when they moved it would be easier for him to adapt. So Jialin became like Yaping’s apprentice and followed her lead.
He was excited, of course, since Huang Yaping was introducing him to a new way of life. Everything felt fresh and exciting, just like when he was fourteen and rode in a car for the first time.
But he also felt frustrated. As he and Yaping deepened their connection, he began to notice how stubborn she was. Being with her was different than it had been with Qiaozhen, who took her cues from him and deferred to him in everything. Huang Yaping wasn’t like that. She would do as she pleased, then tell him what to do, even wanting him to defer to her.
Sometimes, when they were at their happiest, he would happen to think of Qiaozhen, and the thought would be like a knife stabbing at his heart. His temperament would instantly change from boiling to freezing. His shifts in emotion rubbed off on Huang Yaping. Since she couldn’t guess the reason for his sudden change of mood, Yaping felt increasingly annoyed, though she would try to distract him with silly behavior. This only ended up intensifying his mood swings, which would make hers worse as well. Sometimes, they both felt their love was unrequited.
One morning, it was raining hard, and there was a general meeting of the propaganda division of the county committee. Someone from the telephone office next door called Jialin over to take a call.
Jialin picked up the receiver and heard Yaping’s voice. She told him that she had left her special imported apple-peeling knife where they had been hanging out the day before. She wanted him to go look for it as soon as possible.
Jialin told her that he was in a meeting, and plus, it was raining hard. He would go during the afternoon break.
Yaping threw a fit and said his indifference was making her unhappy. She began to sob.
Gao Jialin was exasperated, but felt he had no choice but to go to the meeting and lie, saying that a friend of his was outside with an emergency he had to handle.
The chairperson let him go, and he went back to his dorm to get his windbreaker and bike.
He was soaked through before he even got to the street, but he braved the rain and made his way to the little pool they had visited south of the city. He got off his bicycle and began searching for the knife.
After looking for a while and turning over what seemed like every blade of grass, he still hadn’t found it.
He finally gave up, feeling like he had done his duty, then headed back through the rain to the radio station to tell Yaping he hadn’t found the knife.
He pushed open Yaping’s door and saw her there, smiling happily. “Did you go?” she asked.
“I went. I didn’t find it,” he said.
Yaping began to giggle. She pulled the knife out from her pocket.
“You found it?” Jialin asked.
“I never lost it! It was a test to see if you would do what I asked. Don’t be angry—I just wanted to be romantic . . .”
“Son of a bitch! What a complete cliché!” Gao Jialin shouted furiously at her, his lips quivering. He whirled around and left.
Huang Yaping sobbed alone in her room. She knew that she had gone too far and was petrified that she wouldn’t be able to fix the situation.
Gao Jialin returned to his office, changed out of his wet clothes, and lay down on his bed. Qiaozhen appeared before his eyes: her beautiful, honest face and her gentle, sweet smile. He cried into his pillow, murmuring her name over and over . . .
The next day, Huang Yaping bought some cans of food and other snacks and brought them to Jialin’s. She cried and begged for his forgiveness, promising to never make him angry again.
So Jialin made up with her. Huang Yaping intoxicated him like high-proof liquor—but she also gave him a headache. He knew all her irrational behavior stemmed from her love for him; he had experienced this firsthand. And from a financial perspective, she was very generous with him. She seemed to spend her entire salary on him: she bought him trendy new clothes for every season, and she had someone in Beijing buy and mail him a pair of fancy military-style leather shoes (which he hadn’t yet dared wear). There was also an endless stream of canned food, cakes, expensive milk candy, coffee, cocoa powder, malted milk powder—things that not even the secretary of the county committee could reliably get. She bought him an imported digital watch with a calendar, even though she herself wore a Shanghai brand. She would sacrifice anything for him.
They quickly reentered that most romantic stage of their relationship.
Right around that time, Jialin’s father and Old Deshun came to visit.
As the two old people entered Gao Jialin’s office, their faces looked grim.
Gao Jialin set out a display of milk candy, fruit, and cakes on the desk and put two cups of very sugary water in front of them.
No one ate or drank.
Gao Jialin knew they wanted to say something, but he simply sat respectfully across from them, looking down and rubbing his face with his hands to try and lessen his stress.
“Oh, Jialin, you sold out!” Old Deshun said. “Qiaozhen is such a good girl, and you’ve thrown her away like garbage on the side of the road! You messed up. Oh, Jialin, I’ve known you since you were little and watched you grow up. Now I need to give you a piece of my mind. After all, ever since you were a little sprout of grass, your roots shared our land. But now you’re like a bean sprout, without any roots, floating in the breeze, no idea where you’re headed. You . . . what can I say? You hurt Qiaozhen, and in the process you hurt yourself . . .” The old man couldn’t continue. He closed his eyes and took long, deep breaths.
His father picked up where Deshun left off: “Remember, I told you not to get involved with Liben’s daughter—they’ve got a reputation to maintain. But now you’ve raised yourself up; you can’t be so heartless. Qiaozhen is a good girl: ever since you left, she brings us water, helps your mother cook, pushes the grindstone, feeds the pigs . . . Ay, what a good girl! And no matter how successful you become, if you treat this girl badly, the whole valley will detest you. Your mother and I already can’t show our faces in public since everyone’s saying what a stuck-up boy you are. I heard you found a foreign woman—what will she think when she finds out how poor we are? You should put a stop to that relationship immediately!”
“It’s said that the higher you climb, the harder you fall!” Old Deshun advised him. “No matter how much time passes, you mustn’t lose touch with your roots . . .”
“I haven’t been to the city in a long time, but I dragged Grandfather Deshun here today to make you come to your senses! You’re still young, and you don’t understand the ways of the world. People are living longer and longer these days—I was nearly forty when I had you. Now I’m afraid you’re making a mistake that might affect the rest of your life . . .” Tears filled his father’s eyes as he spoke.
The two old men went back and forth like this, both highly emotional the whole time.
Gao Jialin kept his head down as they spoke, like a convict at his trial.
He finally looked up, sighed, and said, “Maybe everything you’ve both said is true, but I’ve already jumped off the cliff and there’s no going back. You have your ways of living, and I have mine. I don’t want to be the same as you, making a living by digging up the earth in Gaojia Village . . . I’ll go get you some food . . .” He stood up to go tend to his guests, but the two old men got up as well, complaining of sore legs, and said they should get on the road soon to make it home before dark. They refused to eat anything, though they would have liked to share a few more of their thoughts with him, but they could tell it wouldn’t be any use. Jialin would do what he wanted to do—their philosophizing wouldn’t persuade him. So they said goodbye.
When Gao Jialin saw that they were determined to leave, he decided to accompany them at least as far as the Great Horse Bridge. The old men walked with heavy hearts.
Gao Jialin was also upset. He knew that what Grandfather Deshun and his father had said made sense. Their words weighed heavily on him.
Not long after, news came that greatly improved his mood: the provincial newspaper was holding a monthlong training class in reporting and had asked each county to send a representative. The propaganda bureau of the county committee had decided to send Jialin.
As soon as he heard this news, the air of unpleasantness that had been left in the wake of his father’s and Old Deshun’s visit instantly dissipated. He was so happy he didn’t sleep at all that night—this would be the first time he would travel far from home, visit the provincial capital, and see what life was like in a big metropolis, ya!
Yaping saw him to the bus station when he left. Everything he was wearing and everything in his bag had been picked out for him with the utmost care by Yaping. She had even insisted he wear the military-style leather shoes. He felt awkward but excited to walk in leather shoes for the first time.
As the bus went through the gate and Yaping’s smiling face and waving hands disappeared behind him, Jialin was carried along by the speed of the bus through endless open country and toward the bright city lights.
CHAPTER 20
The people of Gaojia Village hadn’t seen Qiaozhen go to work in the mountains for a few days. That was strange because Qiaozhen was a hardworking girl, and she rarely went so long without leaving home. She often made a lot more money in one year of hard labor than her father did with his business.
But eventually people found out that their lovely Qiaozhen had encountered misfortune.
They discussed the situation endlessly, just as they had when they’d first found out about Qiaozhen and Jialin. Most people pitied her, but some took pleasure in her misfortune. But everyone agreed that Liu Liben’s second daughter was completely ruined. If she didn’t commit suicide, she’d definitely go insane. Everyone knew what something like this meant for a girl; it didn’t matter how much she was in love with Gao Yude’s son.
But after a few days, the villagers saw her come out of her house, like a sick, overworked mare. First, she tended to her family’s allotment and repaired the broken fence around the vegetable garden. Then she went to work with the rest of them, though she didn’t say much. But besides that, she was the same as before, doing what she was supposed to do.
What a strong girl! Not only did she not kill herself, but she stayed sane. Life had been cruel to her, but she had picked herself up. Even those who had taken pleasure in her misfortune couldn’t help but respect her now.
Everyone kept a close eye on her. The general impression seemed to be that she had gotten quite skinny.
How could she not? Those past two weeks, she had hardly been able to eat or sleep. Every night she would stay up late crying into her bedding. She would weep from unhappiness, because of her misfortune, and for the dream of love that had been buried alive.
She had thought about dying. But when she looked at the mountain valley she had lived and labored in for more than twenty years, when she looked at the earth and plants that she had kept green with her own sweat, those thoughts dissipated instantly. She was reluctant to leave this world; she loved the sun, loved the earth, loved work, loved the clear and bright Great Horse River, loved the grasses and wildflowers that grew on the riverbank . . . She couldn’t die! She should live! She wanted to work the land. There was something in the earth that could be found nowhere else.
Having experienced this kind of once-in-a-lifetime emotional pain, she realized how naive her romance had been. Her tragic circumstances weren’t due to fate, but simply because she and her beloved Jialin were different people. All she could do now was accept reality.
But no matter what she did, she couldn’t forget about Jialin. She would never be able to hate him; she would love him no matter how much it hurt!
She went to work in the mountains every day; no one at home could persuade her otherwise. To her, the bosom of mother earth was so broad that it could accommodate all the world’s suffering.
In the evenings after she returned home, she would go quietly to her room, and without washing her face, brushing her hair, or eating, she would lie on her bed and let the tears softly fall. Her mother and big sister and Qiaoling took turns spending time with her, encouraging her to eat, crying along with her. They cried because they thought she might be depressed, that she might take her own life.
Liu Liben would sigh and moan as he slept in another room. He had been ill ever since this whole thing started; there were black marks on his forehead from several rounds of fire-cupping. Ever since they’d started courting, he had been furious at Qiaozhen and Jialin, but now, seeing what had become of his daughter, he couldn’t bring himself to admonish her anymore. His family’s enemies were already sniggering at Qiaozhen; they said it served her right, since she had only managed to make it halfway to the top of the social ladder. Well, let them talk! How could a father further twist the knife in his child? But he silently cursed Gao Yude’s rotten son, who had hurt his Qiaozhen so badly.
It’s hard to predict how things will turn out in life. Right around then, an official matchmaker showed up with a request from Ma Shuan to marry Qiaozhen. Several matchmakers had already been by, but as soon as they sat down and caught wind of the family’s circumstances, they got up awkwardly and left.
One evening, a few days after this visit, Ma Shuan himself dropped by.
Liu Liben’s family noted Ma Shuan’s sincerity and welcomed him into their home. They were very moved that the young man would ask for Qiaozhen’s hand under her present circumstances. As for whether or not anything would come of it, Liu Liben hadn’t given it much thought. As matters stood, Liben had decided not to force his daughter to marry anyone. She had already gone through so much; he didn’t want to cause her any more pain.
While his wife prepared a meal for Ma Shuan, he dragged his sick and withered frame to see Qiaozhen.
He sat on the edge of the kang and groped for a cigarette, took two puffs, then pinched it out. His daughter cried into her bedroll. “Cheer up, Qiaozhen . . . God will have his revenge on Gao Yude’s rotten son!” As soon as he mentioned Jialin, he grew angry. He scooted off the kang and stood up to let out a stream of abuse: “That son of a bitch! Asshole! Motherfucker . . . You’ll rue the day you were born! May you be struck down where you stand! I’ll torch you until you’re a pile of tinder.”
Qiaozhen sat up suddenly and gasped into her pillow. “Daddy, don’t curse him! Don’t curse him! Don’t . . .”
Liu Liben stopped and sighed heavily. “Qiaozhen, let’s not bring up the painful experiences of the past. You don’t have to be sad anymore. Forget Gao Jialin! Above all else, you mustn’t be depressed; you’ll just make things worse for yourself. It’s like you’re not quite alive anymore . . . I have always tried to do what was best for you, but from now on, I won’t force you into anything. You’re not a little girl anymore, and you should find your match yourself. You don’t need to set your sights too high—I was wrong not to let you learn to read, but you can still marry a good farmer who knows his place. Aiya, Ma Shuan has sent a matchmaker . . . but I won’t force you into anything. If you don’t agree, I’ll tell him to drop it . . . though he himself came today.”
“Is he still here?” Qiaozhen asked her father.
“Yes . . .”
“Have him come in . . .”
Her father stared at her without understanding, but then got up and left.
Not long after, Ma Shuan came in.
He stared at Qiaozhen sitting on the kang and quickly sat beside her, rubbing his hands.
“Ma Shuan, do you really want to marry me?” Qiaozhen asked.
Ma Shuan looked away. “I set my sights on you long ago, tormented ever since! But then I heard you and Teacher Gao were together, and my passion cooled. Teacher Gao is educated, and I’m just an ordinary guy. I wouldn’t dare compare myself to him, and so I thought there was no hope left for me. Then a few days ago, I heard that Teacher Gao had fallen in love with a girl from the city and didn’t want you anymore, and I got excited, so . . .”
“My reputation is ruined, don’t you hate—”
“I don’t hate you!” Ma Shuan shouted. “What does any of that have to do with us? Who doesn’t make a few mistakes when they’re young? You shouldn’t hate Teacher Gao; he’s a national-level cadre now, and you can’t even read—you two could never end up together. We have a saying in our village, ‘Gold flowers go with silver flowers, and zucchinis go with pumpkins.’ You and I go together so well because we aren’t educated! Qiaozhen, I promise that you will never again suffer! I’m strong but not inflexible; I’ll work tirelessly and never betray you. Whatever joys there are to be found in our village, I’ll help you enjoy them . . .” The rough farmer had said his piece and became very emotional. He got out his matches and struck one with a pah before realizing he hadn’t yet taken out his cigarettes. He pulled the box out of his pocket.
Tears suddenly streamed from Qiaozhen’s swollen, red eyes. “Ma Shuan,” she said, “don’t say anything else. I . . . I’ll marry you. Let’s do it soon—in a few days!”
