by Anyi, Wang
Director Li it is, then, not Mr. Cheng. Director Li is the type of man who makes decisions. Mr. Cheng needs other people to make decisions for him. The car had already reached Wang Qiyao’s home when Director Li turned his head toward her, “I’d like to invite Miss Wang for a casual dinner tomorrow night. I wonder if she will do me the honor.”
The invitation was couched in humble words, but, issuing from Director Li’s mouth, the words carried a subtle power. It’s your decision, and yet not your decision. Wang Qiyao nodded in some confusion. Director Li proceeded to clarify that she would be picked up at seven in the evening, at the same time reaching over to open the door for her.
Standing in front of her own home, as she watched the car disappear in a flash from the longtang, Wang Qiyao felt she was dreaming. It was her first meeting with Director Li, yet he had seemed to know all along what to do with her. Who was this man anyway? Wang Qiyao’s world was very small, a woman’s world, comprised of clothing fabrics, rouge, and powder. Its glory was the glory of makeup and finery—matters that were but floating clouds in the big world. Mr. Cheng was a man, but because of his gentle nature and his eagerness to please Wang Qiyao he had turned into a woman, a slave to Wang Qiyao in her little world. Director Li, on the other hand, belonged to the wide world outside, a world incomprehensible to her. However, she did understand that her little world was controlled by the big world; the big world served as a foundation, with a solidity on which one could rely.
Slowly she pushed open the door. The parlor downstairs was dark. An odor of greasy food wafted out of the lit kitchen, where several maidservants huddled together to gossip about their employers. She climbed upstairs to her bedroom and stayed up for a while, sitting at the window and looking out. The neighbor’s window was only an arm’s length away. Although the curtains were drawn, one could see clearly into the other room, but everything there was normal.
Wang Qiyao pondered her coming dinner date with vague anticipation. What had happened the day before seemed so distant she could hardly recall it. She put her mind to work planning the clothes and shoes she should wear the following day, and deciding how she was to do her hair. She sensed that Director Li liked her, but in what way she did not know—and that uncertainty left her at a loss as to how she should present herself. However, she had a basic faith in the natural course of events. Come what may, she must be steadfast. Even though she must apply herself with due diligence, she should never try to force the issue, because things had a way of unfolding according to hidden principles. She must put her whole heart and mind—there was no room for error—into doing her share, but always leave herself plenty of space to maneuver in just in case things should fall short of her hopes.
The next day Wang Qiyao kept the same hairdo but put on a white cheongsam with white piping, something studiedly casual that she might have even worn around the house. Her makeup was heavier, though, and the bright red lipstick and rouge accented her plain dress. On her arm was a beige cashmere sweater, whose sole purpose was to round out the color palette. The car stopped once again at the entrance to the longtang, and the chauffeur came to knock at the door, once, twice, neither too soft or too loud; he was obviously well trained. Wang Qiyao felt a little frazzled when she walked across the courtyard. She had met this Director Li only the night before; before she even knew who he was or why they had met, things had suddenly come a long way. Director Li greeted her with a smile as she got in, as if they had been old friends. Even though they exchanged few words, this was after all their second meeting, so the atmosphere was somewhat more relaxed.
On the way, Director Li looked down at the purse sitting on her knees and pointed to the beads. “What are those?”
“Beads . . .” Wang Qiyao earnestly responded.
“Oh! . . .” Director Li exclaimed in mocking surprise.
It was only then that she realized he was teasing her. Responding in kind, she pointed to the ring on Director Li’s finger.
“What’s this?”
Without a word Director Li took her hand and put the ring on her finger. Her joke had backfired, but she was helpless to retract her words, nor could she withdraw her hand. Fortunately, the ring was much too large to stay on and Director Li had to take it back.
“Well now, we’ll just have to go shopping tomorrow for a more suitable one!” They reached the Park Hotel as he said this. The men at the door all knew Director Li and greeted him as they ushered them inside. They rode the elevator to the eleventh floor, where the staff had been expecting them. They were led to a private dining room with a window overlooking the city lights.
Without consulting Wang Qiyao on the menu, Director Li nevertheless managed to order all her favorite dishes. Apparently he knew what a woman liked. While waiting for the food, he casually inquired about Wang Qiyao’s age and education and where her father worked. Wang Qiyao was annoyed at this questionnaire-like barrage, but responded matter-of-factly to all of his questions. Impishly, she asked him the same questions, never expecting him to reply. When he took her seriously she was pleasantly surprised. Next he asked Wang Qiyao what she was thinking. Thoroughly flustered, all she could do was sip tea to hide her face.
Director watched her for a while before asking, “Would you like to continue your education?”
“I don’t care . . .” Wang Qiyao answered as her eyes met his. “I have no ambition to have a Ph.D. like Jiang Lili.”
“Who is Jiang Lili?”
“She’s my classmate,” replied Wang Qiyao. “You wouldn’t know her.”
“That’s why I asked.”
This forced Wang Qiyao to say a few things about her friend, stopping and starting, in bits and pieces, until, exasperated, she said, “I don’t think you would understand.”
Director Li held her hand in his. “If you talk to me every day, I will . . .”
Wang Qiyao’s heart leaped to her throat. She blushed deeply, so embarrassed that her eyes brimmed with tears. Director Wang released her hand and said softly, “What a child you are!”
She couldn’t help but raise her head. Director Li was glancing out the window. It was a foggy night outside, and this was the highest point in the whole city. Once the food was served, Wang Qiyao gradually managed to compose herself. It occurred to her that she had overreacted. She had prided herself on being sophisticated, especially since gaining some experience in dealing with Mr. Cheng, and she thought she should not have been so bashful. Recollecting herself, she cast about for topics of conversation. Her childlike attempts to act grown-up were not lost on Director Li, but he was all too willing to humor her. She asked him how many documents and memos he had to read and write each day, then realized, as soon as she had posed the question, that he might not actually write any—it was probably the duty of his secretary to write documents and he only needed to sign them. She hastened to ask how many documents he signed each day. Director Li reached into her purse and took out her lipstick. Drawing a thick red line on the back of her hand, he remarked, “I’m signing one right now.”
On the third day Director Li again invited Wang Qiyao to dinner, after which he took her to Lucky Phoenix Jewelers to buy a ring, fulfilling his promise in the car the day before. Then he saw her home. Watching the car as it drove away, Wang Qiyao was dismayed. The Director came when he wanted to come and left when he wanted to leave—she had no say whatsoever. She had known this would happen, but somehow she wished for more. It was a wish ungrounded by any confidence; she was put in the unaccustomed position of having to be totally passive.
For days afterward Director Li did not contact her. It was as if he had never existed, but there was no denying the reality of the jeweled ring. With the ring on her finger, Wang Qiyao could not help thinking about him. She was captivated. Whatever he said came to pass and whatever he forbade became an impossibility. During those days Wang Qiyao did not go out and she declined to see Mr. Cheng. She was not deliberately avoiding him; she just wanted to be alone. In her solitude Director Li’
s face floated in her mind, hazy, a face that she saw from the corners of her eyes with her head down. Wang Qiyao did not really love him. He was not in the habit of accepting other people’s love: what he consented to accept was the responsibility for other people’s fate. He took other people’s fate and assumed responsibility for them in varying degrees. What Wang Qiyao wanted was for him to become responsible for her.
Wang Qiyao’s family tiptoed around her during those days. They were dying to ask what was going on, but they all held their tongues. Their neighbors had recognized Director Li’s license plate, which was widely known in Shanghai. The fact that the car had already made several trips to their longtang sent rumors flying. That was another reason Wang Qiyao stayed holed up at home. Parents in the Shanghai longtang were generally open-minded, especially when it came to daughters the likes of Wang Qiyao. They had no choice but let them do what they pleased. They treated their daughters almost like guests—even before marriage—serving them the best food and indulging their occasional tantrums. Every morning her mother would stand at the window looking out for the car with a mixture of hope and dread. Whenever the phone rang, spasms of alternating apprehension and relief shuddered through the household. And although no one said a word about it, everyone in the family was counting the days.
Several times Wang Qiyao wanted to vent her frustration by calling Mr. Cheng. She impulsively raised the receiver but put it down every time. How could she be so foolish as to toy with her own life? She could lose it all as a result of such childish antics. How could she possibly compare Mr. Cheng to Director Li? She came to terms with the fact that there was nothing she could do except to accept whatever fate had in store for her. She calmed down, albeit with a feeling of helplessness, but also with a resolve to remain steadfast in the face of new challenges. She would simply have to let things take their course, keeping faith meanwhile that when the boat reached the bridge, it would straighten out by itself. She needed patience. She had to wait in ignorance as to whether there was something worth waiting for. What else could she do but wait?
It was another month before Director Li reappeared. By that time Wang Qiyao was thoroughly discouraged and had given up hope. Director Li sent his chauffer to fetch her. As the chauffeur waited in the parlor, she hurriedly got dressed, having time only to change into a cheongsam. The cheongsam was brand new and a bit too large, but she had had no time to get it altered. A few days earlier, she had had her hair trimmed but not permed, so she quickly curled it with hot rollers. She had lost some weight and her eyes looked larger, a little sunken, betraying a touch of resentment. She was taken to a restaurant on Sichuan Road, to another private room, where she found Director Li sitting at the table waiting for her. As soon as he touched her hand, bitter tears rolled down her cheeks. He sat her down right next to him and held her in his arms. Neither of them said anything, but they understood each other. Director Li too seemed to have been through a lot. The hair around his temples had grown grayer. However, the ordeals they had undergone were different—hers had ground away at her heart, but he had undergone ordeals that crushed him like an unbearable weight and left him ready to give way at any moment. They had both come for solace. What Wang Qiyao wanted was comfort that could last her a lifetime, while Director Li just wanted a smidgen. The things they asked for were different, in quality as well as in quantity, but a smidgen to Director Li was the entire piece for Wang Qiyao—it made a perfect match.
As Wang Qiyao cuddled against Director Li, her heart settled down and she finally felt grounded. By this point Director Li’s iron-like will had also turned into mush. He thought to himself, Women are really the only clear notes amid the cacophony of strident noises in this tumultuous world. Wang Qiyao had ceased to think. Now that she had Director Li she did not need anything else. After they held each other for a while, Director Li lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. Her face seemed more childlike than ever, with the total trust and obstinacy of a child. Director Li had seen a lot of women, from all walks of life and in all kinds of circumstances. At this stage in his frenzied life a woman looking up at him with unquestioning trust evoked a poignant mixture of sweetness and bitterness. He was enthralled. He clasped her to him again and asked what she had been doing at home.
“Counting my fingers.”
When he asked why on earth she would do something like that, she answered, “I was counting the days until you came back.”
Director Li held her tighter, and thought, She may look like a child but she’s got all the guile of a woman. After a pause, Wang Qiyao asked what he had been up to since last they met.
“Signing documents, of course.”
At that they both laughed. Wang Qiyao thought, He even remembers that joke. He must have been thinking about me all this time.
The nights on Sichuan Road were reassuring in their ordinariness. The lights illuminated clearly all things in their respective orbits. The restaurants served food that one might have found at home, delicious even though a bit greasy. The window, fogged up by human breath, had a warm feeling, seeming to exude sympathy. Director Li released Wang Qiyao and let her return to her own seat. He said he had sent someone to rent an apartment for her. He would visit her regularly. If she felt lonely she could invite her mother to stay with her sometimes. Of course he would also hire a maid for her. If she wanted she could attend college, but only if she wanted—since, after all, she did not want to be a Ph.D.! They both smiled at this allusion to their first dinner alone together.
As Wang Qiyao listened to him, she thought it was a well thought out, almost flawless proposal, yet she did not want to accept immediately.
“I’ll go home and ask my parents . . .”
This schoolgirl-like response made Director Li smile at her indulgently. He reached out to caress her head. “From now on you only have to ask me.”
Tears streamed out of Wang Qiyao’s eyes, and a profound sense of grievance welled up in her. Director Li was silent. He understood even better than Wang Qiyao the source of her grievance. He had seen tears of this kind many times. Even though they always proved to be fleeting, they left a residue, which tended to resurface during times of crisis. When he was young, he thought he could crush anything in his hands into dust. But he no longer had that boundless confidence. Experience had taught him that every person in the world—no matter how great—is always a puppet in the hands of another. Those are the hands of fate. He therefore felt that Wang Qiyao was shedding tears also for him, and he was moved. After Wang Qiyao stopped weeping, she patted her eyes; they were still red, but clear enough that one could see all the way down to their bottom. Director Li saw himself reflected in those eyes. After that she seemed much more relaxed, but at the same time resolute, as if she had finished performing a farewell ceremony. She had now entered a new stage in her life and was ready to go to battle.
“When can I move in?” she asked.
Director Li was taken aback. He had thought it might take some time to get her used to the idea and had not expected her to be so cut-and-dry about it.
“When . . . ever . . .” he uttered hesitatingly.
“How about tomorrow then?”
This put Director Li in a tight spot, because although he had toyed with the idea of getting her an apartment, he had not taken any steps actually to rent one.
“Let’s wait a few days . . .” he was forced to temporize.
In the ensuing days Director Li was constantly in Wang Qiyao’s company, eating with her and taking her to see Peking opera. Director Li was a southerner, but he had spent a large part of his life in Peking and so had become a Peking opera aficionado. He now found the local operas of his hometown of Shaoxing extremely boring. Movies also bored him. The Peking operas he liked were those featuring female lead roles—and among these he delighted most in the ones where the lead was played by a man. He thought that men in female roles were more feminine than women, because only a man could understand what was so entrancing about women—women themse
lves would never understand. The female leads played by women articulate the female form, but men could articulate the female spirit. This is a simple case of an onlooker being able to form a clearer picture of what goes on than the parties involved. He especially despised Hollywood movies and the women in them, who displayed nothing but feminine shallowness. Those Hollywood actresses were not fit to hold a candle to men playing female roles in Peking operas. He thought if he were to play a female lead, he would bring to life the most beautiful woman in the world. A woman’s beauty is definitely not self-conscious. Women are most beautiful when they are not aware of their beauty—often precisely when they think they are ugly. The feminine beauty articulated by men in female roles is an idealized beauty. Whether moving about or staying still, frowning or smiling, they are interpreting women, as if women are books they have studied. Director Li’s love of Peking opera stemmed from his love of women; furthermore, the two were similar in that he looked at both from the perspective of an aesthete. Wang Qiyao came from a generation in Shanghai that grew up watching Hollywood movies; the drum rolls and clanging gongs of Peking opera always gave her a headache, yet she learned to control her personal dislikes when she accompanied Director Li the opera. After a while she actually began to find it interesting, and was able to make a few intelligent remarks about the performance, allowing her to converse with Director Li on the subject.
