Massage

by Bi Feiyu

  Slowly walking with you

  Slowly the outcome emerges

  . . .

  Till the end of the world

  Love is forever.

  Tailai was afraid to reciprocate, owing partly to his shy nature but also to the traumatic experience of his failed first love. Once bitten, twice shy. But this was precisely the cause of her infatuation with him; she was plagued by the urge to heal his wound. Would she have been so taken by him if he hadn’t been hurt? Hard to say. She knew what she was like; a broken heart was what had attracted her, not a stone-cold or impregnable one. No matter how torn his heart was, she would gather all the pieces and hold them in her palm to sew them back together, one careful stitch at a time. She wanted to see his heart begin to stir until it was as good as new, to contract and expand. This was the kind of love Jin Yan wanted.

  After eating every lunch together and going home night after night as a pair, Jin Yan and Tailai finally became an item, a basic fact known to everyone at the centre. They were in love. And that was fine. The world has a place for fresh flowers and for manure, so why can’t a flower be stuck in manure?

  But they were not in love yet. Jin Yan knew they weren’t. What makes being in love unique is that it requires a rite, a single word or a gesture, or both. Only with a certain action to lay bare what is on the minds of both parties can they be considered in love.

  She had done everything she could, out in the open and with grace, but she maintained a reservation befitting of a girl when it came to that rite. It was out of the question for her to say ‘I love you’. He would have to be the one who said it first. This was something on which she would not and could not compromise. She would wait till that day; she had an abundance of patience. Those three words meant a great deal to her, and she must have them. She was entitled to them. She was worthy of getting them. Only with those three words could love be meaningful.

  But Tailai withheld the three words from her, something she had anticipated, and now she was torn. On the one hand, the sooner the words came to her the better, but on the other hand, she wanted his confession to come a bit later. He had, after all, loved someone before. Jin Yan didn’t care if a man had loved before, had been married, or had children; all she cared about was the way he treated women, particularly the woman before her. Tailai had recently suffered a traumatic loss of love, so if he were to turn right around to show his love for her with those three words, Jin Yan would be disappointed. She was in no hurry. Confessions of love are like good soup: they take time to make.

  The days went by. Then a week, and two weeks. He had yet to express himself to her. She was a patient woman, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t waiting for him to do so. As time passed, her patience wore thin. He remained the same, no matter what she did or how she did it. Eating with her, that was fine; walking with her, no problem there; chatting with her, sure. But he was silence personified at each critical moment; he simply refused to react.

  His silence was unnerving, to say the least, and as she looked back, Jin Yan was surprised; they had known each other for quite some time, but it appeared he didn’t intend to show his feelings at all. It wasn’t that he stammered or that he couldn’t let it all out; he was just unresponsive at every critical moment, which nearly destroyed her self-confidence. Maybe he really wasn’t in love with her. Could manure reject a fresh flower? Of course it could.

  Realising that she wasn’t doing as well as expected, Jin Yan was tired, but the situation had reached the point of no return. Tailai’s silence was not the prime source of her exhaustion. Everyone at the therapy centre knew about their relationship. She’d started out with grandiose gestures, and now that they were in love, was there anything to keep her from more such gestures? No. She needed to keep up the act of flowers blooming in spring, but that was getting old fast.

  Tailai did not come forward; neither did she. She was patient, but his patience was greater than hers. She had thought she could wait forever; she was wrong. Instead of Tailai, she was in fact waiting out time. Time was interminable, and there was always a tomorrow to outwait her. Tomorrow was like a bottomless pit, an unreachable goal. Finally she realised that she could not wait any longer, defeated by her own patience. She had crumbled in the face of Tailai’s resilient, long-lasting patience. In a word, his patience was frightening, inhuman even. She had only one thought – she needed to cry. Luckily she knew herself well enough to anticipate how she would shock people by her wails, so she asked for half a day off and went to Ka-le-men, a karaoke joint. Shutting herself inside a room, she turned the music volume all the way up and had a good cry.

  Besides crying her heart out, she made some private arrangements. First, she called her mother, telling her that her health wasn’t as good as it had been, with full knowledge that her mother would tell her to come home, and she would take the opportunity to say, ‘We’ll see.’ It was a highly loaded response that entailed a decision; she would have a frank talk with Xu. If it worked out, she’d stay in Nanjing; if not, she’d go home right away.

  So in the end she blinked first. On that night, Zhang Zongqi, Ji Tingting, Tailai and Jin Yan walked home in a group, led by Xiao Tang, one of the receptionists. When they reached the door, Jin Yan stopped and walked up to Zhang, where she took Tailai’s hand from his. ‘Why don’t you all go up? Boss Zhang,’ she said, ‘Tailai and I will take a little walk.’ Zhang smiled and, taking the receptionist’s hand, headed upstairs. Taking hold of Tailai’s lapel, Jin Yan led him off to the side of the road, and, once she could tell that the others had all climbed the stairs, came straight to the point.

  ‘We need to talk, Tailai.’ His expression turned sombre at that declaration; he lowered his head, not sure if she saw his face. Instinct told him that something was going to happen tonight.

  He made up his mind not to say anything, no matter what. Intending to have a heart-to-heart talk with him, Jin Yan was upset when she noticed his attitude, and quickly adopted the approach of stubbornly refusing to speak first. We’ll keep at it like this and see who can hold out longer. If you want to hold out till daybreak, I’ll be right there with you.

  But she was wrong again. She was patient, all right, but never as patient as he. Barely a quarter of an hour had passed before she gave up and her temper flared. Struggling to control herself, she laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Everyone in the centre is blind, Tailai, yet they all can see what’s going on; they know. Can’t you see? Has it escaped you?’

  Tailai coughed and dragged the tip of his shoe back and forth across the street surface.

  ‘I guess you’re going to force me to come out into the open then,’ she said, her voice cracking. ‘I’m a woman, after all, Tailai.’

  ‘You’re not going to say it, are you? Tailai.’

  ‘You’re forcing me to say it first, is that right, Tailai?’

  ‘Are you going to say it or not, Tailai?’

  His foot continued to drag across the ground; his lips were moving, but not his tongue.

  Now incensed, she put her hands on his shoulders as the anger and unhappiness that had built up over time erupted. ‘Will you say it or won’t you?’ she demanded loudly.

  ‘I will,’ Tailai shuddered and blurted out, ‘I will.’ Fixing his gaze on her, it still took some time for him to open his mouth. ‘I’m not a good match for you.’ He was heartbroken by the confession and appeared to be crying. He knew he was not good for her. ‘I’m really not a good match, Jin Yan,’ he repeated himself earnestly, afraid she hadn’t heard him the first time.

  So that’s what it was all about. God! So that’s what was bothering him. She’d imagined thousands of scenarios, but never once had she anticipated this. I’m not a good match for you. I’m really not a good match. Could there be a better beginning for romance anywhere? No, there could not. Love had humbled her, yet her humbled heart had met an even humbler one. Humility, modesty and self-deprecation are unbearable. But where love is concerned, they can be touching, alluring and heart-wa
rming. So this is what love is like. You can strip naked in order to cover the one you love with feathers. Pulling her hands back, she stared at him. First her shoulders quaked, then her whole body. What more could she say? What should she say? Balling up her fists, Jin Yan felt a blankness engulf her. At a moment like this, all she could do was cry. She began to wail.

  Her wails came on suddenly and shattered the late night quiet of the residential area. Zhang Zongqi quickly came down with Jin dajie and Gao Wei to take her inside. But she refused to go with them.

  Left with no choice, Zhang tried to talk her round, looking unhappy. ‘We’re renters, Jin Yan, and the people will complain if you keep this up.’ But she was beyond reason. She didn’t care; she just wanted to cry. Was there any better time for her to cry?

  Da-jie had been asleep when Zhang woke her up. Before she could clear her mind, she heard Jin Yan’s loud wails, without knowing the cause. Yet for her, there could be only one reason for Jin Yan to cry like that; it must have been Tailai’s fault. A staunch believer that women must always support one another, taking on the role of big sister, she demanded, ‘How dare you mistreat Jin Yan, Xu Tailai?’

  Tailai didn’t know why Jin Yan was carrying on like that. It wasn’t his fault.

  Zhang dragged Tailai away, while da-jie put her arms around Jin Yan. ‘It’s all right. Let’s stop crying.’

  ‘You go back, da-jie,’ Jin Yan said, still choked up. ‘Let me cry for another five minutes.’

  That didn’t sound right. What kind of sorrow lasts another five minutes? With the aid of the streetlight, da-jie took a closer look at Jin Yan, whose expression seemed out of sync with her wailing. Now da-jie knew what was going on; she’d obviously wrongly accused Tailai of mistreating Jin Yan. Well, there was nothing she could do now except to give him a couple of extra pieces of meat at the next meal. And Jin Yan was clearly fine, since Tailai was innocent. ‘Be a good girl,’ da-jie said in a tender voice, ‘and come upstairs with me. Maybe you don’t want to sleep, but others do.’

  ‘No.’ Jin Yan gently pushed her away. ‘I need to cry some more.’

  Jin da-jie sighed inwardly. The world had certainly changed. She could not understand young people, the way they talked. Just what did it mean to need to cry some more?

  In the end, it was Jin Yan who said ‘I love you’ first, and in his arms, no less. A man with low self-esteem, Tailai was frightened of love and even more so when it came to expressing his feelings, though she could sense that he adored her. He tiptoed around her, afraid to cause her damage, to do her harm; he was anxious to the point of not knowing what best to do except breathe hard. Even his fingers were stiff. Leaning into his embrace, she brimmed with tender love when she blurted out those three words. If he refuses to say them, so be it; there’s no point in forcing him. Finally it all became clear: where love was concerned, Tailai was a farmer – timid, clumsy, wooden and stubborn, all of which were personality flaws, but which became something unique when they characterised his love. Jin Yan decided that she would be a snake in the farmer’s arms, not venomous, just a small, slinky water snake. Snakes bite, and so would she. Her love must come with teeth. The thought brought a smile to her face.

  ‘Am I nice, Tailai?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you love me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you think about me before you fall asleep?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Will you be nice to me for the rest of our lives?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She bit him, a real bite, not a playful nibble. Her teeth sank into his neck and didn’t let go until he cried out in pain.

  ‘Did that hurt?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you know I love you, too?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you know you’re the kind of man I want to marry?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Bite me back, then,’ she said.

  ‘No, I won’t.’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘No, I won’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

  His reply was touching, so touching that she gave his neck another bite. He was covered in bruises before they had even been together for an hour.

  Then suddenly reminded of something, she struggled out of his arms and instead put hers around him, before asking a serious question. ‘I’m a pretty girl, a ravishing beauty. Did you know that? Tailai.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Touch my face.’ She took his hand. ‘Am I pretty?’

  ‘Yes, you are.’

  ‘Keep touching. Am I pretty?’

  ‘Yes, you are.’

  ‘How so?’

  That was a tough question. Born blind, Tailai could not have known what a pretty girl looked like. It took a long while before he said, as if taking a vow, ‘Prettier than braised pork.’

  Chapter Ten

  Wang Daifu

  WANG DAIFU WENT home alone. He didn’t take Xiao Kong with him, because his mother sounded strange over the phone. Instead of trying to get more information, he mentioned the call to Sha Fuming after a treatment session, and then went home. Any talk of home instilled a sense of fright in Wang. He longed to draw close to home, but also wanted to keep his distance. The sticking point was, he didn’t know what to say to his parents. It should have made perfect sense for him to go home often after returning to Nanjing. But he didn’t. He met his family obligations by phoning daily. Wang was in love, and most of the time a man in love is well served by going home on a regular basis, where so many things are made easier. But not Wang Daifu. He would prefer that his parents lived far from him, for then they would be just a concern, a thought. This was something he’d seemingly got used to.

  He sensed that something was wrong the moment he set foot in the house. His parents were quiet, and it seemed they weren’t alone. Something bad must have happened; it felt spooky.

  Suddenly seized by a minor panic, he wished he’d phoned his younger brother on the way home. After all, his brother was sighted; he was the family’s pillar, and everything would surely be fine with him around. Wang managed to keep calm and greeted his mother, then his father. With one hand resting on the sofa, he felt his phone with the other hand and dialled his brother’s phone number.

  ‘This must be the older brother,’ said a strange but pleasant voice.

  ‘I see we have a guest,’ Wang laughed, pretending to be surprised.

  ‘How should I address you?’ A voice emerged from the phone in his pocket: We’re sorry. This phone has been turned off.

  ‘There’s no need to tell you that. You could ask your brother, but his phone is off all the time.’

  We’re sorry. This phone has been turned off, the voice repeated mechanically.

  The silence in the living room made the recording sound even louder. Embarrassed, Wang switched off the phone as his fears intensified uncontrollably.

  ‘Why don’t you offer our guest some tea, Mother?’

  ‘She already did. Not to worry.’

  ‘Then please go ahead and drink it.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about the tea. We have been drinking. We’re here for our money.’

  Wang’s heart skipped a beat. Yes, this was definitely trouble. These were not people to take lightly. Then it occurred to him that they could not possibly be here to rob them. ‘Could you tell me who owes you money?’ he asked amicably.

  ‘Your younger brother.’

  He took a deep breath as everything became clear, and that drove away the fear.

  ‘Can you tell me where you’re from?’

  ‘We’re from the gang.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘The gang, like in a street gang, but we’re not mobsters. We’re from the mahjong gang, we play by the rules.’

  Wang began to crack his knuckles, starting with the left hand, then the right. He repeated the process but the knuckles would only crack once. ‘Money owed must, of course, be r
epaid,’ he said. ‘But my father doesn’t owe you anything, nor does my mother, and neither do I.’

  ‘We don’t need you to tell us about gang rules. Here’s an IOU from him, with an address and a phone number. We go by the IOU, not people. We play by the rules.’

  The pleasant voice said that a second time, sending a chill through Wang’s heart. His fears returned. What did ‘play by the rules’ mean? It sounded ambiguous.

  ‘We don’t have any money,’ he said.

  ‘We don’t care,’ the pleasant voice replied.

  Wang took another breath to puff up his courage. ‘And we wouldn’t give it to you if we did.’

  ‘That’s not an option.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘We’re not going to do anything,’ the voice continued. ‘We just want our money. If we can’t get it, we’ll leave. Someone else will follow up and take care of business. These are our rules, and we play by the rules.’

  What a sinister comment. Wang heard a threat in every word.

  ‘How much does he owe you?’

  ‘Twenty-five thousand. A nice figure, wherever you happen to be, Jiangxi or northern Shaanxi.’

  ‘What do you want anyway?’

  ‘Our money.’

  ‘What happened to the law of the land?’ Wang said, raising his voice, an act of bravado.

  ‘Not the law of the land,’ the pleasant voice replied lightly to deflect Wang’s challenge. ‘It’s laws, not the law of the land. We know all about laws.’

  Wang was breathing hard, unable to say more. He jumped to his feet, took out his mobile phone and jabbed at the numbers. We’re sorry. This phone has been turned off. He raised his hand, ready to fling his phone to the floor, but someone grabbed his arm. He struggled, but his powerful arm was no match for the other man’s.

  ‘Don’t take it out on your phone,’ the voice said, not the owner of the arm. So there was another person.