by Can Xue
A lad named Drum ran into the queen at night in the “desert.” Drum had gone out because he had a splitting headache. The desert was made of crushed rock; no plants grew anywhere for several miles around it. Yet under the moonlight late at night it looked beautiful—a stretch of glistening silver light. Drum thumped his head desperately and walked in the desert. Suddenly he saw the queen. Dressed in white, the queen was like a floating immortal. He was at least two hundred meters away from her. On a night like this, Drum hallucinated that he had come to the moon. He forgot his headache. He wanted to catch up with the queen and talk with her. This was a rare opportunity. He picked up his pace, but for some reason he couldn’t catch up with the queen. Finally, he began running, but he still trailed behind her. The queen was also running, her white skirt blowing in the wind, moving like a sail. “Hey, hey—” Drum shouted, as he ran faster and faster. But the queen ran even faster, and soon disappeared without a trace. Drum stopped and looked blankly all around. There was now only a stretch of silver light. Where could the queen have gone? Could she have dug her way into the ground? Drum finally realized that his headache was gone. He excitedly thought back to the scene just now and was reluctant to leave the gravel that glittered like diamonds. He vowed silently, I have to come back here again tomorrow night.
The next night, he had no headache; as soon as his parents fell asleep, he slipped out of the house. There was no moonlight. He walked a long time, trusting to his memory to find that desert. He stood beside the desert. It was dark all around. Rarely seen, such desolation was simply terrifying. He wasn’t a coward, but he didn’t want to stay here long. Without the queen, the desert was hell. The walk home was endless. Even though he walked fast, when he got home it was already light. He remembered that someone wearing a conical hat on the road had asked, “Did you have good luck?” He had hurriedly answered, “It seems so . . .” It was dark at the time, and he hadn’t gotten a good look at the person. Drum didn’t give up; later, he went back to the desert several times. But each time it was dark; he missed the silvery moonlight night.
He told his Uncle Mi about his experience. Uncle Mi was silent for a while and then said, “Don’t go there.” “Why?” Drum asked. “Because you yourself don’t want to go. Besides, the queen occupies your heart, doesn’t she? Drum, you must improve yourself!” Drum was grateful to Uncle Mi. Even after many years had passed, Drum still remembered that night vividly. In the daytime, he went to the desert, where he picked up some stones and brought them back. The stones were dull, not a bit shiny. But Drum liked these stones; he rubbed them with his hands and told them what had happened that night.
After some of the elderly villagers heard about Drum’s experience, they discussed it in private. But they didn’t want to make their comments public. Smiling, they said to Drum, “You were lucky, Drum. That evening, the queen was hurrying to rendezvous with her parents.” “How do you know?” Drum asked in amazement. “We always know a little about this kind of thing ahead of time.” The elders were concerned for the queen and also happy for her. After all, she was having a reunion with her family. But to waste her strength like this at night: Would this harm her health? Early the next morning, she appeared again beside the well. These old people had heard their elders say that the old king and his queen were buried “on the other side” of the desert—a place that they themselves had chosen. But no one knew exactly where on the other side of the desert. Apart from the queen, no one had gone there. It must be remote, a place with many acacia trees. After Drum told the villagers his news, they watched the queen even more closely for the next few days. In those few days, the queen seemed even more spirited, and she played old records in the palace. These were marches. It seemed that the old king’s vitality motivated the queen, and she was vigorous as she put the palace in order. In Wang Village, there was no larger or more stately place than the palace. It was the villagers’ spiritual sustenance. Even shepherd children were always looking toward this place on the plains.
During that extraordinary night, the queen didn’t sleep. After she returned from “the other side” of the desert, she washed her face with well water and then sat down at her desk and began writing her work diary. Her record was cryptic. For example: “three stones,” “one ditch,” “nursery rhymes,” “sending a signal,” and so forth. You could guess the meaning of some others. For example: “one kilometer in ten minutes,” “five kilometers in half an hour,” and so on. They probably indicated how fast she walked that day. She was very engrossed in writing her work diary. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes shining like a teenage girl’s. After she finished writing in her diary, she paced for five minutes in her room and recalled the boy named Drum. She seemed to know why he had run to the desert. She wondered, What would his future be like? Would those diamonds that disappeared shatter his life someday or might they change into a Rubik’s Cube in his hands? She wasn’t at all worried about him. His pursuit had made clear his determination. Then the queen turned to thinking about the reality of the palace—swallows were nesting in the eaves for the first time. This was inspiring.
2.
Ever since the young man had burst into the queen’s home several years earlier and been so scared by the atmosphere that he ran out, no one had ever tried it again. Everyone felt that it would be an offense. However, something strange occurred. A little girl named Zhu Zhu went to the market with her mama. The careless mama had no idea how she lost Zhu Zhu in the crowded market. Zhu Zhu waited for a long time next to a load of potatoes, and still didn’t see her mama. And so she decided to go home alone. She thought she knew the way. But the farther she walked, the less familiar the scenery was. She didn’t stop until she reached a large wooden house. She thought she’d better go in and ask someone how to get to Wang Village.
She went in, but no one was there. In high spirits, Zhu Zhu climbed onto the dining room table and fiddled with the coal lamp for a long time. Then she looked around the living room. She thought the two portraits and the crown on the wall were not very attractive, and the three porcelain vases were too large. Just then, she noticed a small staircase concealed behind a large cupboard. When Zhu Zhu tiptoed up the stairs, she heard her heart palpitate. Would people think she was a thief? If they caught her, she would say she was looking for her mama. But would they believe her? She reached the second story. It was unlike the spacious first floor, which had numerous rooms. The second floor had only one room, which was open and dark. Next to the room was an almost vertical narrow staircase. Zhu Zhu entered the room and heard a woman ask, “Little girl, how did you come up here?”
“I don’t remember. I’m looking for my mama . . . ,” Zhu Zhu answered frantically.
“You don’t make a point of remembering the way you took? That’s not a good habit.” The woman seemed unhappy.
“I can change, I promise. Now I do remember. I came up from the other staircase on the side. Now may I go down?”
“No. You can’t go back now. Come over here.”
Zhu Zhu tried taking a step ahead. She stepped on the woman’s foot. Horrified, she started crying.
The woman picked Zhu Zhu up and set her on her knee. She said, “Don’t cry. See how brave our Zhu Zhu is!”
“Who are you?” Zhu Zhu asked, as she wiped away her tears.
“I’m the queen. You’ve heard of me, haven’t you?’
“Hello, Queen. How can I see your face?”
The queen was sitting on a swivel chair. She turned in another direction, and Zhu Zhu saw the Milky Way in the deep blue sky. Zhu Zhu realized that she and the queen were sitting in midair. But she still couldn’t see the queen’s face. The queen urged Zhu Zhu to jump down. Afraid, Zhu Zhu grabbed the queen’s skirt tightly and wouldn’t let go. The queen grew angry. She stood up, flinging the girl off. Zhu Zhu heard herself hit the water; she dog-paddled a little and reached the shore. Then she indistinctly heard the queen shouting, “That’s the Milky Way . . .”
Zhu Zhu recognized the broo
k in the village, and she saw her mama running toward her. Crying and laughing, her mama held her.
“I saw the queen!” Zhu Zhu said proudly. “She hugged me, and I almost got to the Milky Way. It would have been great if I hadn’t been afraid.”
When they reached their home, it was crowded with many people who wanted to hear what Zhu Zhu had to say about the queen. Zhu Zhu was regretful as she said, “It would have been so great if I hadn’t been afraid.”
Then she started crying.
“This child—what’s wrong with her?”
“The queen shocked the wits out of her.”
“The queen gave her inspiration. The girl was really fortunate.”
“This child was born insatiable.”
For a while they made all kinds of comments. Then, losing interest, they quickly dispersed.
As soon as the crowd left, Zhu Zhu stopped crying. Looking at the window, she actually sneered.
“What are you sneering at?” Mama asked in astonishment.
“They kept asking about this. How can anyone ask others about such things? I will never speak of it. Mama, I can’t tell you, either. You won’t blame me, will you?”
“Of course not. I’m also sorry that I let you get lost. Still, it seems that you grew up as a result. When they said you’re insatiable, I was happy. A child who isn’t insatiable is boring, and so they were praising you.” Mama smiled.
Zhu Zhu changed out of her wet clothing and braided her hair. She was no longer regretful. She thought to herself that she would have more opportunities, lots of them. It wasn’t that hard to find the queen’s home.
As for the queen’s nighttime activities, people guessed all kinds of things; the villagers also took note of a variety of omens. Without exception, each person thought that the queen’s activity was very important. Just think about it: a queen was running around in a place not far from the village. What’s more, she was the queen of Wang Village! Although this wasn’t too strange, it symbolized the villagers’ innermost passion, but they weren’t content with seeing something superficially—they liked to delve into it in detail. Everyone thought it was wrong to follow her deliberately, but this didn’t mean that people criticized those who had the good fortune to run into her by chance. People approved of that because it was almost like destiny. The old king’s palace in the wilderness was a vague concept. It was far away, and its surroundings were quite desolate. No matter how one looked at it, this was a suitable place for the queen to live. None of the Wang villagers would be so presumptuous as to call on the queen in her palace.
But one night it did happen. It was an enchanting autumn evening when Widow Zhen had just had a terrible fight with her live-in lover and then furiously walked out in the wild. She walked ahead blindly: she couldn’t see the bats flying around, nor could she hear the nocturnal birds’ singing, because the world suddenly vanished from her field of vision. She was pushed ahead by the power inside her body. She didn’t mind being lost—maybe she wanted to be lost. Anyhow, she didn’t want to go back home. Wherever she went would be fine. She wouldn’t regret it even if a wolf devoured her.
In the dark, Zhen ran into a wooden wall and hurt her forehead. She nearly fainted. She thought doomsday was approaching. After a long time, she gradually regained consciousness and discovered that she was sitting on the ground. The gate creaked open.
“Did you come to see me?” a woman asked calmly.
“Yes. I’m calling on . . . ,” Zhen answered obscurely.
“Then come in right now! Didn’t you hear the wolves roaring?” she said sternly.
Zhen tried hard a couple of times, but was unable to stand up. The woman dragged her in. The clatter of the gate closing was earthshaking.
She couldn’t see anything in the house. For some reason, Zhen felt pleased. Her insane urge to go walking disappeared. She sensed that she was sitting on a high-backed chair. The woman was sitting across from her. Zhen couldn’t help saying softly, “Are you the queen?”
“It seems so.” The voice was teasing.
“I really didn’t come here on purpose to disturb you.”
“But you did. You guessed right: I don’t need a companion. But I do like to lecture others: that’s my failing. It’s easy to solve your problem. I’ll help you solve it right now.”
Zhen was stunned. She waited, wondering how the queen would do this. But after about ten minutes, the queen hadn’t made any sound or motion. Another ten minutes passed, and still nothing happened. Zhen grew impatient, but she waited a while longer and finally extended her hand. She probed in the dusky space across from her, but didn’t touch anything. She walked over to it; she didn’t encounter any obstacle because in fact the queen wasn’t there. But just now she had definitely been sitting across from her.
“Queen!” she shouted.
Her eerie voice echoed in the high, empty room. She broke out in a cold sweat. Something was tangled up with her feet, and she sat down on the floor again. She grabbed the thing with her right hand. Oh, a snake! The snake bit her, then struggled free, slipping away with a rustling sound. She sensed that the back of her right hand was swelling quickly. She might die soon.
“Queen, save me! I’m dying!” she shouted, over and over.
She shouted until she was hoarse and then she knew no one was there to save her.
She would have to save herself. Enduring the pain, she looked for the door, and found it after a while. She pushed and pushed, but the door wouldn’t move. It seemed to be bolted from the outside. She was tormented by pain; she was exhausted. Even worse: fears surged up in her mind like waves; she felt that poisonous juices were spreading all through her body.
“No!” she screamed.
She had never been weak. Never in her whole life. Even so, she felt that her “No” was frail and weak, not much stronger than a mosquito’s buzzing. She started kicking at the door. She thought that since she could still kick the door, she probably wouldn’t die. However, she seemed to be kicking cotton each time, for there was neither sound nor resistance from the door.
“Zhen, Zhen . . . ,” her lover called to her from the darkness. His voice seemed quite funny.
“Bah! Why are you here?” Zhen roared.
“I’m in your home.”
Frowning, Zhen began to think. Her family couldn’t have moved to the palace, could they? Could the palace have changed into her home? Just now, the queen had definitely been sitting across from her, hadn’t she? Wasn’t she going to help her “solve her problem” right away? What kind of problem was it? At this point, her “problem” unfolded before her. She saw an abyss. Of course she didn’t want to fall into the abyss but neither did she want to leave immediately. Her injured hand seemed to remind her: she had no choice. Her hand was swollen like a dumpling.
Zhen giggled for no reason and said to the darkness, “Liuhei (this was her lover’s name), turn on the lamp.”
This time, she waited a long time without getting a response. Zhen sensed a numbness starting to spread out from her heart. But why wasn’t she losing physical strength or consciousness? This kind of death was frightening.
Zhen began moving. Every two steps, she kicked out blindly. Then she heard bursts of sound coming one after another; perhaps she had shattered some porcelain dishes. Unable to resist her feeling of schadenfreude, she wanted to damage some more things before she died. At a minimum, she wanted to scare the despicable Liuhei. After kicking some more, she felt something was wrong—why were porcelain dishes being constantly kicked over? Was Liuhei up to some mischief? She had no sooner thought of this than she lost her enthusiasm for breaking things. Just then, she happened to feel a high-backed chair with her foot—probably the one she had sat in before. After sitting down, she heard the queen talking across from her.
“Hasn’t your problem been solved?” she asked impatiently.
“Thank you, Queen. I think so. There’s nothing for me to do in the palace, so I’d better go home.” Her throat felt dr
y as she spoke.
“Go home?” the queen sneered. “How?”
“I don’t know. Am I dying?”
“You have to ask yourself that.”
The queen’s last words were fluttering in the air. Zhen wanted to kick the door again. Time after time, she wildly kicked an imaginary gate. All at once, she fell to the floor.
“Liuhei, go to hell!” she cursed.
She heard the queen snickering, and at the same time she touched the door handle—her own home’s door. Creaking, the door opened. It was light inside because it was already daytime. Everything was where she had left it. Her embroidery was on the windowsill, as if suggesting something. Someone knocked on the door: it was the village chief.
“Zhen, I heard that you drove Liuhei away. He’s a good man.”
“Who said this? It’s nonsense. Liuhei had something urgent to do and went home.”
“Oh, I see. What a relief. Zhen, I always think you’re a remarkable woman.”
“Get out of here. Don’t you have any work to do? Did you come here just to jabber?”
Covering his mouth with one hand, the old man giggled. She pushed him out the door.
