by Sheng Keyi
She finally said, ‘If you don’t care about me, why should I bother so much about you? Xiao Yuan wouldn’t be so callous.’
At this, Xia grew jealous. ‘Then go to Xiao Yuan if he’s so good. We’ve been involved in politics from the start, and now you want to get all emotional about it. Before you know it, I’ll have no room left to manoeuvre.’ He wanted to get up but was afraid Youqing would be angry.
‘Tomorrow when you talk to Dr Lei, don’t give anything away. Just shoot the breeze, test the waters, OK?’ Youqing reined in her temper and thought to herself, Who asked me to fall in love with you?
‘Shoot the breeze? How? I don’t normally just chat with gynaecologists. I’ll have to watch myself. He’s got backers who are quite influential too.’
The next day at work, Xia monitored the movements of Dr Lei’s office carefully. He did not find a suitable opportunity the whole morning, with Dr Lei talking on and off with various people.
Xia was preoccupied, as if he were suppressing something. Every time there was the sound of footsteps in the corridor, it would attract his attention. He would look up then turn back. Xiaohong, involuntarily affected by his actions, followed his lookings up and turnings back. Before long, feeling a little dizzy, she began to see stars.
‘You’re looking for Dr Lei?’ she asked, biting at the tip of her pen, making Xia pause for half a beat.
‘He seems especially busy today. How’s the report going?’
‘Eh. Not so well. You want to look it over for me?’ Xia held out a hand, and Xiaohong passed it to him. He scanned it for a couple of minutes, then handed it right back to her.
‘That’s about right. It’s got plenty of information.’
‘You mean it’s OK as it is? You don’t have any advice? Points one, two and three that need changing?’
‘You’ve done fine. Better than I’d imagined.’
She looked at him and asked, ‘Are there any awkward sentences? Any mistakes? Help me brush it up.’
‘It’s pretty smooth. Stronger than when I started writing.’
‘Encouragement isn’t any use, Xia. See it through Dr Lei’s eyes. Where do I need to change it?’
‘I’m not Dr Lei. Of course I don’t know what he’s thinking.’
A figure went past the door. The last person in the chairman’s office was leaving. Xia pushed the chair away with his hip, stood up and disappeared in a flash. In another flash, he returned. Silently and sulkily, he settled back into his chair.
Xiaohong took the report and stood up. She likewise disappeared in a flash. About ten minutes later, empty-handed, she quietly went back to her own chair. ‘Your turn. Dr Lei wants to see you.’
Xia said a quick ‘Thanks’ and went out in yet another flash to Dr Lei’s office.
‘What do you think of Qian Xiaohong’s report? Have a look.’ Xia stood and courteously took the report with both hands from the chairman. All the lights in the office were always on. The bright mosaic of dozens of pale fluorescent bulbs on the ceiling made Xia rather uncomfortable, as if every sweat gland and every pore was exposed. Feeling a little awkward, he was not really looking carefully at the report. Rather, he was thinking of what terms could more perfectly express his own views. He did not want to be seen as substandard, nor as purposely critical. And he wanted to get a clearer idea of Dr Lei’s thinking. After ten minutes, Xia raised his head and smiled sheepishly, as if to say that if the report were not up to standard, he was partly at fault.
‘The material is a little convoluted, not a lot of weight to it. Some phrases don’t quite flow. And the content’s confusing. That’s my general feeling.’
‘Ah,’ Dr Lei said in a nasal tone. He got up and poured a cup of water, the bubbles in the dispenser rising at full speed.
‘It’s worse than I imagined. I thought it could be used, with slight modification. But now that I read it properly, there are too many places that need corrections. So, I want you to rewrite it.’ Dr Lei put the cup of water in front of Xia, who scrambled to politely accept the cup with both hands.
‘Of course. It’s my duty.’
‘To engage in PR, you need a certain level of culture. At least a university degree.’
‘You are right, sir. PR has always been about culture, cultural publicity. Sometimes I also feel she’s not quite strong enough.’
‘Hmm. Or maybe what’s needed is simply some specialisation, and then she’ll be steady enough.’
‘That’s true, sir. For PR, in this line, it’s best to be multi-talented.’
‘You think it over. We need to plan out the personnel requirements for the PR department. You’re the head. You can make a proposal to the department.’
Dr Lei dropped the hint, and Xia implicitly understood. He also had a gut feeling that Dr Lei had his own plans.
IV
The rain fell in thin sheets, setting up a pinging rhythm on the bonnet of a car. The wind whistled past, then whistled back again. It was a heavy downpour. It had been a long time since it had rained like this. The drops splattered onto the window, splashing onto the tip of her nose. Xiaohong stopped and stared, watching the beads of rain hit against the flat part of the leaves, against the umbrellas under which people sheltered, against the slanted billboards, and against any exposed patch of earth. As she watched the rain like this, everything that it beat down upon, instead of becoming soggy and saturated, perked up with a vibrant energy. Time passed and still she felt antsy. Though the rain had come and gone, it left everything just as it had been before. Xiaohong felt she should do something with herself, but when she pulled out the necessary books to study for exams, looking seriously at a few lines, she grew more restless than ever. Once boredom had her in its grip, all she could hope to do was find something even more meaningless to occupy her mind.
Looking out of the window, the late afternoon sun had come unselfconsciously out, and life continued on in its light. Xiaohong made her way out of the house, airing herself out in the sun. Motorcycles and cars obnoxiously emitted clouds of exhaust, humble bicycles making their way amongst them, while pedestrians stuck to their own paved walkways. The street was wet and steaming, and music blared from the CD shop. Pagers were advertised at huge discounts and wind chimes swayed in front of an everything-for-eight-yuan shop.
A few fluffy-haired girls from the nearby factories walked by, holding hands. Their rubber-soled shoes sticking to the spot as they stopped, apparently listening to the wind chimes. Xiaohong passed them and a pungent odour of armpits mingled with the chimes attacked her senses. Both ear and nose suffered the effects and then it passed back through her system for a second round. Practically suffocating, Xiaohong thought that at least the smell was not coming from her. She took some comfort in the fact that her own body odour was not quite so strong and that she was cleaner than those factory workers.
She felt good. No wonder people said that a nice walk was a cure for boredom. The effects were obvious enough to see, at least initially. Xiaohong walked with a light step, chest out and head thrown back to see the azure sky. She was surprised to find that one of a few stray clouds had wrapped itself round the spire of a building.
What shall I do? It would be a shame to do nothing and waste weather like this. With this aimless thought, her right arm, swinging by her side, nearly hit several cartons of cigarettes on a stall on the pavement. There must have been about a hundred different brands of cigarette, all wrapped in packaging that dazzled. Xiaohong stopped, tilted her head and beginning with the first row, carefully counted all the brands – foreign and domestic, cheap and dear. There were exactly a hundred and eight varieties.
‘Want some smokes? There are some especially suitable for girls to puff on, like this one here,’ a woman said, dark and thin and with a little boy tucked under her arm like a bundle of straw. She spoke with such confidence and sophistication that Xiaohong guessed she must have been smoking for decades.
‘You’ve tried it?’ Xiaohong took the small, delicate packet
.
‘All the girls smoke this one.’ The woman reined in her confident air and it was replaced with a trace of regret on her face. The child in her arms wiggled like a crab, looking around with wide eyes. As she spoke, a little girl ran out from the shop and said in broken Mandarin, ‘Ten kuai, ten kuai. Ten kuai a packet.’ She stared at Xiaohong, waiting for payment.
When she had bought the cigarettes, Xiaohong walked off, glancing back at the stall. She could not see anything clearly through the clutter there. As she was about to walk away, a girl grazed against Xiaohong’s waist as she ran past, shouting, ‘Mum! I’m home!’ She tossed her red rucksack to the woman.
How many kids do you have? Xiaohong wanted to ask. But by the time she thought of it, she had already left the cigarette stall. Day had eased into evening without pausing for twilight. In a half-dream state, Xiaohong walked along, packet of cigarettes in hand. When she crossed the pedestrian bridge, she noticed that a man seemed to be following her and had been for a while. He had very large feet. Xiaohong stopped and leaned against the railing, waiting to see what he would do next. Bigfoot stopped on the opposite side of the bridge and, leaning against the handrail there, looked idly around.
The neon lights flickered to life and the cars passing underneath the bridge likewise began to switch on their headlights, the glare shooting before them like flames. Xiaohong shifted her weight, finding that her hands and feet were growing numb from being in the same position too long. Her feet were like cotton wool and she felt like she was floating.
As it was getting dark, Bigfoot came closer. ‘Can I scrounge a smoke?’ His voice was not evil. He sounded like someone with a legitimate profession. Xiaohong looked him over sternly. She found him good-looking in spite of herself. He looked nothing like a predator slinking along the streets.
‘Got a light?’ Xiaohong said, trying to open the packet but failing to find the seal and fumbling with it.
‘You don’t smoke, but you bought cigarettes.’ Bigfoot took the pack from her, their fingers touching. He tore open the clear plastic film, which flashed as he dropped it onto the bridge. He handed Xiaohong a cigarette, as if he were a master smoker.
‘Why are you following me?’ Bigfoot pulled a lighter out of his back pocket and lit the cigarette for Xiaohong. Elbows glued to the railing, she began to puff on it chaotically.
‘What makes you think I’m following you? It’s just a coincidence. I’ve just broken up with my girlfriend, so went out for a walk. Then I saw you and that’s all there is to it. You can’t expect to be the only person to occupy the streets as if you’re the only one who’s got things on their mind,’ he said seriously. He kicked the railing with his oversized foot, as if he wanted to make it share in his pain.
‘What do you do? How long you been in Shenzhen?’ A white car shot out below Xiaohong, driving straight ahead and joining the flow of traffic.
‘I work in a securities company, a stock broker. I’ve been in Shenzhen eight months.’
‘Oh. You’ve only been here eight months and you’ve already had a girlfriend and broken up with her. I’ve been here two or three years and I haven’t even had a boyfriend, not to mention a break-up. You’re much better off than me.’
He looked at her then withdrew his gaze. After a second, he suddenly turned back and looked again. Xiaohong opened her eyes wide, intrigued.
‘She was a whore, you know. At least, she sold herself. After she made some money that way, she went into shares. Now she’s climbing the ladder with shares worth over half a million. But I wish she’d never made that half-million!’ He poked his big foot under the railing. It looked as if it wanted to take a suicidal plunge.
‘You fall for her because she had half a million. Then after you fall for her, you despise her half-million. Or, you mean, if she’d made that money innocently, then everything would be perfect? I doubt that.’
Bigfoot pondered for a moment, then withdrew his foot and said, ‘How do you work that out? That’s not true.’
‘I bet it is. You just don’t want to admit it.’
‘It’s getting late. Let’s go to The Bean King and I’ll buy you some soya milk and bread sticks. They’ve got good dumplings too.’
When they had finished their late night snack, Bigfoot inveigled Xiaohong into watching a video. The video hall had several private rooms with comfy seats. A person could get stuck there all day without moving. The room had been put together with a very scientific approach. No one was to be seen in front of the viewers, nor was there a shadow of other people to the right or left, and the only thing visible upon looking over your shoulder was the back of the seat. It seemed to be a Hong Kong film and it was full of nude scenes. As they watched, it was difficult to say whether it was because of the comfy seats or the steamy scenes, but desire was born. Perhaps the whole point of this sort of lovers’ nest was to foster something between them. It started with an innocent touching of hands, a grasping of hands and then a squeezing of hands. Then Bigfoot’s arm snaked its way around her, pulling Xiaohong into an embrace.
Their lust was ignorant and it was normal. And it made the video no longer something to be relished but something to be dispensed with. All the people in the various rooms followed the film’s touching and kissing. And while their moves might not have been as artful as those onscreen, they were more spontaneous. From time to time, a careless sound escaped from one of the rooms, serving as a catalyst to stir up even more shenanigans in all the other rooms.
When the film was over, the wind blew along the night streets, sweeping amongst the fluttering shadows, all of which were rushing to one place or another to mate. Xiaohong’s hand was continually in the grip of Bigfoot’s, making it a little damp. They went into the night streets, not saying a word, only looking for a taxi. It was as if Xiaohong were just an article of his clothing, never even asking where they were going. Not even a simple, ‘Your place or mine?’
When they got to his flat, Bigfoot took Xiaohong and, like an article of clothing, flung her onto the bed.
Midnight is always a time of confusion.
V
Monday, 18 September. Gregorian calendar. And what’s so special about that date? Why, it’s Qian Xiaohong’s twentieth birthday.
Seeing Bigfoot in the doorway of the office, a smile came over her face. She knew he wanted to be with her a second time. But for now, he was dressed smartly in a grey t-shirt and brown slacks, and his behaviour spoke of culture and cultivation. Even Xia was a little jealous, which made Xiaohong’s face glow more than ever. She greeted Bigfoot with the warmth of an old friend and poured him a cup of tea. Xia took the hint and beat a hasty retreat.
‘The environment here’s not bad,’ Bigfoot said casually, glancing about the office. His mouth was not small, but very sensual. His teeth were white and clean. From the night they had spent together a couple of weeks earlier, Xiaohong could not quite remember the taste of that mouth. She thought back for a moment, but still could not recall it.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Shouldn’t I have come?’
‘It’s a bit of a surprise.’
‘You knew I’d come.’
‘You might as well say I knew you’d want to sleep with me again.’
‘I won’t pretend to be noble. I wanted to come, so I came.’
She giggled.
‘Let’s start again,’ he said.
‘Not continue? Why turn it into starting again?’
‘There was so much going on that night.’
‘You mean you want a relationship?’
‘Why not?’ He paused for several seconds, his big hand scratching his ear and his big feet shuffling over the floor.
‘I suppose it’s likely enough.’ Xiaohong stared at his shoes. They were very clean.
‘I’m just on my way to work. I’ll meet you tonight. We can go for karaoke.’
At six, Xiaohong went to the McDonald’s where they had agreed to meet. It was nearly dark and the rush hour t
raffic clogged the whole area. There was a hubbub of noise from the crowd, as if everyone were out in force to attend some grand event. The whole world was turned upside down, so why not eat, drink and be merry?
In the restaurant, there were no empty seats. It was packed with people milling about as freely as the aroma of spicy wings and burgers. Xiaohong felt as vulnerable as if she were in a crowded train station, overwhelmed by a sense of annihilation, loss and loneliness. After a moment, she suddenly spotted the flash of his white teeth amidst the sea of black hair, his mouth like a ship floating on its surface.
‘You go and have a seat. It’s across from the washroom. I’ve saved a place for us there,’ Bigfoot told her, then frantically made his way straight to the counter.
Sure enough, they were facing the men’s WC. The door was quite beautiful. The smell of spicy chicken wings and hamburgers floated in the air, and everywhere she looked, people were clasping their cups of cola. Xiaohong sat watching with interest, feeling herself lucky, as Bigfoot used his two great feet to force his way through the crowd, carrying a tray.
‘Fries, chicken wings, burgers, cola, ice cream and ketchup.’
Xiaohong, perhaps affected by the thought of all the exposed rears in the WC, noticed that Bigfoot’s face was even smoother than a baby’s bottom. A clean-shaven man was one who was ready for business, showing himself to be serious and conscientious. It was a sort of silent oath. Xiaohong was a little touched, though she was not really sure if it was because of that face shaved smoother than a baby’s behind or because of the meal. She only knew she was touched, and that what lay behind the feeling was this big-footed man with the charming smile. With his sparkling white teeth, he took a bite of the hamburger. As if in response to the smile on Xiaohong’s face, he said vaguely, ‘I’m hungry! Come on, you eat too.’
Xiaohong liked eating with him like this. What she most disliked were those men who were prim and proper as eunuchs, eating a dainty little bite, then wiping their mouth carefully with a napkin. God, they wiped their mouth as vigorously as wiping their arse! It was better to eat like Bigfoot, nice and easy-going.
