by Yan Lianke
She said, “Are you hurt?”
I said, “I’m fine.”
She said, “Is it that you can’t wait to do that thing?”
I laughed.
She said, “What were you saying when we arrived at the entrance to the tunnel?”
I said, “I wasn’t saying anything.”
She said, “You were in the middle of telling me something.”
I said, “Oh, maybe I was telling you to take off your clothes. Inside the tunnel, it’s warm in the winter and cool in the summer.”
She proceeded to remove her clothes as she walked, and each time she removed an article of clothing, she would toss it to the ground. That way, her discarded clothing resembled a row of flower blossoms. I began retreating into the innermost part of the tunnel, and as I did so, I watched her unfasten her buttons and remove her clothes. I watched as, under the clay walls that were as muddy as the lamplight, her naked upper body appeared as white as silk—as though she were a nude portrait moving in the yellow light. I began to remove my own clothes. Given that I was stripping as I walked backward into the tunnel, I had to place my lamp on the ground. By the time I had removed my shirt, she was already standing under a different air hole, where she proceeded to stretch out her sore back, such that her voluptuous breasts, like a pair of sheep on a mountain top, stood erect under the tunnel ceiling, while the dark area between her legs resembled a black chrysanthemum blooming in the tunnel. My gaze froze. I stared at her naked body as though I were seeing a book or a newspaper for the first time in a long while. I saw that there were particles of dirt stuck to her breast and her belly, resembling flower pistils against her white skin. I noticed that in the triangular region below her abdomen, the skin was as smooth as silk, without any discernible stretch marks. I smelled a strong odor of dirt, and there was a reddish-white feminine scent mixed with the smell of peach and plum blossoms. I knelt down below those scents and completely forgot that I was about to be promoted to deputy mayor and that I was a revolutionary and a political and military genius. Instead, I knelt down and began crazily kissing that black chrysanthemum blossom, to celebrate our love and my promotion and to toast another victory in the revolution and a new stage in Chenggang’s history. I kissed her belly and her abdomen, the triangular region below her abdomen, and that black chrysanthemum that was shedding petals in all directions. I kissed the fresh, soft white dirt on that black chrysanthemum, and the smooth flesh of her thighs, which was pulled taut when she stood up. I kissed her fingertips and fingernails, which were eager to ruffle through my hair. I also wanted to kiss her toenails, which resembled ripe red grapes, but when I bowed my head, I saw that her feet were buried in a pile of loose earth that I hadn’t yet cleared away, and therefore I had no choice but to lift my head and place her grapelike nipple in my mouth, sucking it into the back of my throat. She was excited by my frantic kisses, and in the cool tunnel her entire body began to burn, as though a clump of clay had become heated and fallen down, leaving her paralyzed under the air hole below the wall separating the courtyards of the Cheng and Hong households, as my throat produced a bright and peach-colored gurgling sound. I knew she had now lost control, and I couldn’t wait until we reached the nuptial chamber’s earthen bed. She proceeded to lie down in front of me, as though she had just casually unrolled a brand-new mat, whereupon I immediately lunged at her, like someone wanting to throw his body down onto a cool mat in the middle of summer. The ground was cool and damp, but her body was dry and hot. As I lunged at her, her stifled, parched voice flowed out into the lamplight, like spring water flowing out from between cracks in rocks. I said, “Hongmei, don’t be afraid. If you want to scream, go right ahead. This tunnel is our home, and even if you shout your lungs out, no one will hear you.” As I said this, I moved her leg until she was in the position I wanted, then I abruptly inserted my hardness into her. At that moment—at that crazy, divine, miraculous moment—her cry of pleasure burst out louder than ever before, erupting from her wet mouth together with her coarse panting. Her scream was sharp and bright, fluttering in the tunnel like a strip of red silk. The dirt in the tunnel’s ground and ceiling began to tremble, and the lamp next to us began to sway back and forth. That sound flowed through the tunnel, but was quickly absorbed by its muddy walls. When she cried out, I enjoyed a rare feeling of hardness and greatness and felt a rare sense of strength and connectedness. I initially thought I could make her cry of pleasure last forever, or at least until her body ran out of energy and her throat became hoarse. For some reason, however, I suddenly experienced a complete collapse, as my body became drained of energy.
I fell onto her.
Her third cry had only half erupted before it started to fade out.
We gazed at each other with a yawning look of regret.
The swaying lamp made a sound like a millipede scurrying around.
I asked, “Am I sick?”
She said, “What sort of illness could this be?”
I said, “Perhaps the same one that your husband has?”
She said, “Aijun, let’s not mention Qingdong at a time like this, OK?”
I said, “But do you think I have the same illness as he does?”
She said, “How could you be suffering from that? The problem is that we’ve been forced to contain ourselves for too long, and now that we finally have a space like this where we can let it all out, we run into trouble. After a while, everything will be fine. I’m sure it will all be fine.”
We sat there quietly for a while. We held hands, consoling one another as we felt the chill from the tunnel’s ground and walls drenching our bodies like rain, until our skin was covered in goose bumps. I handed her a piece of clothing, saying, “Put this on. If we proceed a little farther, we’ll reach the underground nuptial chamber.” She threw the clothing to the ground and said, “I won’t wear this. For years, we haven’t had a chance to stroll around naked like a married couple.”
(I truly love her—my soul and my flesh!)
Naked, we proceeded toward the nuptial chamber. Because of our earlier excitement and my subsequent collapse, we were both very quiet. As we headed into the innermost portion of the tunnel, I no longer hung back to admire her nakedness, and instead I took the lead, holding the lamp in front of me with one hand and leading her forward with the other. The mud underfoot absorbed our feet’s urgency. We passed beneath Rear Cheng Street, under a corner wall of Cheng Temple’s rear hall and a tree in Cheng Temple’s front courtyard, under the foundations of Cheng Qing’an’s and Cheng Qinglian’s houses, as well as Tian Zhuangzhuang’s house. Finally, we arrived at that underground nuptial chamber. I had made the room’s walls completely smooth and the ground perfectly flat and had dumped a thick layer of white lime on the earthen bed, so that when the lime mixed with the dirt, the humidity would be reduced. One air hole in the room led to an opening at the base of Cheng Tianqing’s rear courtyard wall, another led to an opening next to the bed in Cheng Tianqing’s bedroom, while the third led to the base of the kitchen wall of Cheng Tianqing’s neighbor, Cheng Xianqi. I placed the lamp over the bed, and in the nuptial chamber the lamplight became even more dim than it had been in the tunnel. The opening to the tunnel leading to Hongmei’s house was located above the chamber’s northern wall.
Hongmei stood in the nuptial chamber, using her hands to cover the area between her legs. She shifted her gaze from the ceiling to the wall, and from the wall to the earthen bed, until finally her gaze came to rest on the opening of the tunnel that would lead to her house.
“Aijun, when will this be finished?”
“If I work quickly, I’ll need another half year, and if I’m slower, I may need seven or eight months.”
Hongmei looked at me, then squatted down, hugging her shoulders, her legs pressed tightly together. In this way, she resembled a round ball perched on the earthen ground.
I said, “You’re cold, aren’t you?”
She replied, “Aren’t you? Come hug me.”
I said, “Hongmei, do you think that I’ll some day be able to revolutionize my way into the position of town mayor or district commissioner?”
She said, “If you become mayor or commissioner, you won’t stop liking me, will you?”
I said, “We are revolutionary companions, a couple made in heaven. If I leave you, it would be as though the revolution had lost its engine. And why would I have spent two years digging this tunnel if I were thinking about leaving you?”
She said, “Aijun, you must believe that you are a revolutionary genius. Your genius is in no way inferior to that of Lin Biao. In fact, compared to Lin Biao—”
I immediately covered her mouth, and said, “I just want you to tell me whether, if I continue pursuing the revolution, I’ll eventually be able to become mayor or district commissioner.”
She said, “All you need to do is keep directing the revolution and maintain a correct political standing. As long as you retain this same revolutionary passion when you are in your forties or fifties, you should be able to become provincial governor.”
Infatuated, I stared into her eyes.
She asked, “Don’t you believe me?”
I said, “I do believe you.”
She asked, “And if I continue pursuing the revolution with you, what position will I be able to attain?”
I said, “A position at the county, district, or even the province level—all these are possible.”
With a smile she kissed me and said, “Without Chairman Mao, there wouldn’t have been the great Jiang Qing; without Lin Biao, there wouldn’t have been the great Ye Qun; and without Gao Aijun’s skyrocketing success, I, Xia Hongmei, could not even consider the possibility of having a county-level, district-level, or province-level position. I understand this principle. If I didn’t, how could our love be as deep as it is, and how could you have accepted me as your revolutionary companion?”
I didn’t say anything else (my soul and my flesh!). As Hongmei made these remarks, she stared into my eyes. By this point we had already been sitting together on the ground for a long time and had been liberated from the tunnel’s chill. The topic of revolution had summoned our inner warmth, and I felt the blood begin to surge again. Strength returned to my body. The chill faded from her, and the goose bumps disappeared from her skin. Her body became white and shiny, warm and flexible. Her breasts once again started knocking against my chest like a pair of rabbits trying to break out of their underground burrow.
I said, “I’m currently only a deputy mayor and have taken only the first step in our Long March.”
She said, “Now you’ve taken the first step, the second will be that much easier.”
I said, “Now that I’m deputy mayor, I’ll have more opportunities to attend meetings with that bastard Wang Zhenhai and therefore will have more opportunities to pull him down from his position as mayor.”
She said, “The director of the women’s federation has a mouth that is puckered like a persimmon, to the point that she must not be able to even eat anything. I’m sure that I could do that job better than her.”
I said, “The revolution has given us this sort of opportunity, and if we can’t seize it, then we are fools.”
She said, “The revolution is certainly good, but it has forced us underground.”
“I see some dirt on your body.” I pointed to her left breast, which had a bean-like clump of soil on the nipple—as if her nipple had grown a new nipple of its own. She looked down at that clump of dirt and moved to wipe it off, but then her hand stopped in midair.
She said, “Please wipe it off me.”
I said, “Would you ask the mayor to wipe away that clump of dirt?”
She said, “Mayor Gao, please wipe away the dirt from my breast.”
I said, “Heavens, could you call upon the district commissioner to do such a thing?”
She said, “Commissioner Gao, why don’t you use your tongue to wipe away that piece of dirt?”
I said, “Good god, you dare to address Commissioner Gao as if you were speaking to your own child!”
She said, “Governor Gao, why don’t you use your tongue to lick up the piece of dirt on my nipple?”
I said, “Could a governor do this sort of thing?”
She said, “A governor is still a man. Didn’t Chairman Mao and Lin Biao have children with Jiang Qing and Ye Qun? Governor Gao, I’m begging you to lick up the piece of dirt on my nipple.”
I said, “Call me a revolutionary.”
She said, “Revolutionary genius, you are China’s rising star, and the spring water of your tongue can moisten the nation’s parched people and its parched land. Please use your spring water to wash away the piece of dirt on my nipple.”
Her voice was both bright and dark, halting and continuous. This was a recitation and a eulogy, a supplication and a flirtation. Her eyes shone down on my face, and her hands continually caressed my body and my crotch. I was moved by her magnetic voice, and my throat and lips once again became parched. I was anxious to do that thing again, but I struggled to control my thirst, because I wanted to continue to bask in her revolutionary language. I pinched her ears and lips, resting my lips on her shoulders, as though holding the golden-red face of a bodhisattva. “I’m not only a revolutionary genius, I’m also a political genius,” I said. “Is it possible that you don’t recognize my political genius?”
She continued caressing my crotch with one hand and holding her breasts with the other. Each movement was very slow and careful, so that the piece of dirt would remain balanced on her nipple. “Esteemed revolutionary, politician, and comrade, given that you are a public servant of the masses and a civil servant of the People, I am asking you to lick up this piece of dirt.”
I said, “Not only am I a revolutionary and a political genius, I am also a military genius. If I weren’t a military strategist, do you think I would have been able to dig this tunnel?”
She brought her hands together and held them between her breasts and under her nose. With her head half-cocked and her eyes closed, she knelt down in front of me and said, “My most esteemed strategical genius, and peerless politician. My young and promising mayor; my talented county head; my district commissioner, devoted to public interests; my provincial governor, full of organizational ability and the art of leadership; my emperor, for whom I have the utmost love, loyalty, and reliance—Comrade Gao Aijun, your humble s
ubject, your commoner, your plebeian, your revolutionary sweetheart and your lifelong companion, your future lover, spouse, and empress, is kneeling down before you with a speck of dirt on her nipple and is entreating you to use the tip of your tongue, which has revolutionary love as its base, to lick it clean. In order to celebrate yet another revolutionary victory in Chenggang; in order to celebrate how, in the revolution, you have begun your great ascent from village chief to mayor, I ask that you lower your noble and wise head that is full of revolutionary consciousness, and lick off the speck of dirt that has fallen onto the great nipple of this great woman during our great revolutionary storm!”
When she finished this declaration, which sounded as though she were reciting it from a prepared text, she bent down—to see whether or not that piece of dirt on her nipple would fall off on its own. Then she crawled over and grabbed my member with both hands and gently kissed it, then kissed it again. She kissed it three times in a row, then straightened her back, such that her nipple was now positioned in front of my face.
I thought I should swallow that piece of dirt.
Gazing down at her pert breast, at the nipple at its center, and at the piece of yellow earth stuck to the nipple, I said, “Albania’s heroic populace, which has become Europe’s great socialist torch, the Soviet revisionist leaders, the group of traitorous strikebreakers, and Yugoslavia’s Tito faction—compared with you, they are all just mounds of earth, while you are a cloud-piercing mountain.” I added, “Please don’t call me a revolutionary, a politician, or a military officer. Please don’t call me town mayor, county head, district commissioner, or provincial governor. We revolutionaries hail from all of the world and have united together for the sake of a shared revolutionary objective … All revolutionary groups must look after one another, cherish one another, and assist one another.” I added, “We Party cadres and national cadres are merely ordinary workers, not elders riding on the heads of the People. All of us worker cadres, regardless of the status of our occupation, are merely orderlies for the People. Everything we do is in the service of the People, on behalf of the People, for the People’s welfare, and for the People’s well-being, which is also our own well-being. It is all done on behalf of the People’s happiness, which is also our happiness. Only lackeys of the masses can be considered true cadres.” At this point, I began to lick that piece of dirt with the tip of my tongue. I had to lick it three times before I managed to dislodge it from her nipple, whereupon a sweet, earthy taste warmed my mouth. Before my chapped lips had even left her nipple, I swallowed that piece of dirt as though I were swallowing a chunk of gold. Then I stuck out my tongue again and licked her nipple. Under the moisture of my tongue, her nipple became even more swollen than before, as though a purple grape had suddenly grown there. I took that grape—and even half of her breast—in my mouth and began sucking ravenously. As I sucked on her breast, she began to moan—hoarse and trembling, as though an intermittent stream of red water was spurting onto my face, my body, and my heart. I could no longer control myself, as blood flooded toward a certain part of my body. She couldn’t restrain herself either, and she began moaning my name—calling me town mayor, county head, and district commissioner, calling me revolutionary, political, and military genius. She asked me to rescue her, saying, “I can’t stand it anymore, Mayor Gao. Save me!” As she called out to me, she collapsed to the floor, where she proceeded to flop around like a fish on a riverbank.
