The Bathing Women (46 page)

“I’m not doing anything according to my own whim. I’m truly concerned about you and Chen Zai. No matter how many plastic surgeries I have, I’m still your mother.”

Tiao stood up from the sofa and said, “You’re a … a …”

“A what? A what?”

“You’re a monster.”

Yixun walked out of his study to reprimand Tiao for talking so disrespectfully to her mother, and added, “Tiao, don’t leave yet. I need to talk to you.”

6

Tiao reluctantly followed Yixun into his study and chose to sit on a chair far away from him.

Yixun’s attitude today took her by surprise, and she was not happy about his taking Wu’s side and criticizing her. Yes, she had spoken disrespectfully to Wu, with whom she used the formal address but whom she called a monster. But that was a fact that Yixun knew better than anyone else. Compared to Tiao’s disrespectful language, Wu’s new look was far more upsetting to him. Could he really tolerate living in the same house with a woman who fixed her nose and eyelids, walked around in sunglasses, and gargled loudly right in front of him? Had he really become so big-hearted and tolerant? Or was the change because he had made common cause with Wu, overlooking her disagreeableness in turning their sights on Tiao? Tiao had a hunch that on the issue of Chen Zai, Yixun would take the same stand as Wu did.

She was right.

And Yixun was even firmer than Wu was.

He simply told Tiao, “I object to your continuing to carry on a relationship with Chen Zai.”

“We’re serious about each other. He’s getting a divorce.”

“What do you mean, ‘getting a divorce’? You’re not young anymore. Why are you still so naïve?”

“Dad, you make it sound like Chen Zai is deceiving me. He and I have known each other for many years, and you’ve known him for many years, too. Clearly you know him very well. Why would you still say things that are so unfair to him?”

“Yes, I do know him well, but I’m not bewitched by him like you.”

“He didn’t bewitch me; I’m no longer a child.”

“That’s why you’re pathetic: because you don’t know you’re bewitched by him. Of course you are, and he has the accomplishments to bewitch you: a successful career and reputation, the design of some buildings on both provincial and national levels, money and family, extra time and energy to devote to you. But in my opinion, there’s nothing special about people like him; he just showed up during good times. His smooth sailing was paid for by the sacrifices the previous generation made in the political movements that came, one after another. Has he been to a place like Reed River Farm? No. I was pulling loads of bricks on the farm at his age. Where were my designs and my work at the time? I was only worthy of driving a horse cart and pulling loads of bricks over and over again. There were always pits and hollows lying before us, and we jumped in to fill them, to smooth the roads with our labour for these Chen Zais. In my opinion, his designs are not always successful. For instance, he designed Fuan Publishing House, which I don’t think is that good.”

Tiao immediately interrupted Yixun and said, “I think it’s very good. The Publishing House is one of my favourites among Chen Zai’s designs. A place like Fuan needs architecture like this, designed and built using simple materials but with its own character.”

Yixun said emotionally, “Never mind its own character. It’s okay to use the grey fire-clay bricks for the lower part of the building, but why did he have to strain after novelty by using Brazilian hardwood for the upper part? Did he take into consideration that using wood to decorate buildings wasn’t suitable for Fuan’s dry climate? The Publishing House accepted the design because they got money. Is this what you think is ‘its own character’?”

“I’m very surprised at how upset you get as soon as we talk about Chen Zai’s designs.”

“Am I upset? I’m just expressing my opinion. Just because Chen Zai designed the Publishing House, can I not even give my opinion of it?”

“Of course you can. You can simply say his designs are worthless, seeing as you take so much pleasure in putting down Chen Zai’s works.”

“Who’s upset now? Honestly, I can’t bear to see how crazy you are about Chen Zai. He’s far from becoming a master. Even if I weren’t coming from an expert’s perspective, even if I were just a casual observer of architecture, I would still have the right to express myself.”

Tiao stared at her agitated father as though she had never known him. His almost out-of-control look, and the caustic comments he had made about Chen Zai’s work, made him seem pathetic, a member of a pathetic generation. This was something she hadn’t felt until a moment ago. She suddenly wanted to ease the tension, to comfort her pathetic father. She said, “Dad, I wasn’t right a moment ago. Some of Chen Zai’s work has left people with regrets—”

Yixun raised his voice to interrupt Tiao. “It’s more than regrets. Some of his work is intolerable. Take Yunxiang Square in the downtown area, for instance; it looks exactly like a cannonball with half of it sliced away. The incline looks like a flat face. A flat face on a cannonball is ugliness beyond words, unrivalled ugliness.”

Tiao held back her temper and said, “When I said there was some ‘regret,’ I didn’t mean Yunxiang Square. Yunxiang Square is his prizewinning work.”

“I knew you would defend him, and your admission that you were not right was completely insincere. What’s the big deal about prizewinning designs? The work that wins a prize isn’t necessarily excellent work; excellent work often doesn’t win a prize.”

Tiao felt there was no way to ease the tension between them and that it was impossible to calm her father down, so she just allowed herself to get angry again. She said, “Dad, you’re right. Is what you are trying to say that while your designs didn’t win any prizes, they’re excellent? And also that even though you can’t compete with people like Chen Zai, that doesn’t mean you’re not as good as they are? I think I know what you mean. I get it.”

Yixun said, “You’re ridiculing me. You’re ridiculing your father for the sake of a man whom you’re not even sure will marry you.”

“I know he’ll marry me.”

“I know he won’t marry you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m also a man, and do you know how often I think about divorce?”

“Then why don’t you do it? Maybe because there is not another person in your life that you love.”

“Maybe yes. Maybe no.”

“Then you can’t prevent others from pursuing their happiness just because of this maybe yes or no.”

Yixun suddenly raised his voice, stood up, and paced back and forth in his study. “What do you mean by that? What do you mean by that?”

Tiao said, “I hadn’t planned to say it, but you force me. I mean you are jealous, anxious, and unbalanced. You don’t want to be faced with young people’s achievements, nor do you want to face up to the trouble in your own life. You … you’re even afraid to admit you’ve been deceived and injured. You think you can maintain your image as a strong man this way? Did you think you could forget everything in the past? No, you haven’t forgotten anything, and you’re not strong, either. A strong man wouldn’t get so emotional or angry as easily as you. You can’t even channel your emotion and your anger into your career. You claim that the times have caused you to waste the most productive years of your life and that you no longer have the chance to study in England or other countries. Well, time is merciless, but then you should have the courage to admit the cruelty of time instead of dumping all your bitterness on the innocent Chen Zai. Do you know how I felt when you tried so hard to diminish Chen Zai a moment ago? I wasn’t angry; I just felt sad. I felt sad for you. As I said, I’m no longer a child. I’m an adult. I feel I understand your suffering. For many, many years I’ve understood. I was often tempted to say it out loud for you, but your expression and attitude stopped me, which made it clear to me that you were well aware that I knew. You were terrified by my knowing and dreaded that I would speak out of my knowledge, as if you would lose your dignity as a man and a father that way. Why couldn’t you have tried to think of things differently—because your suffering is also my suffering? As your daughter, I did a terrible and stupid thing to eliminate my family’s suffering. You can’t possibly know what it is and I will never tell you.”

Yixun stepped in front of Tiao and said, “Are you finished?”

“Yes, I’m finished.”

“Get out of my room.”

Chapter 9

Crowned with Persian Chrysanthemums

1

Three years later.

It was the night Chen Zai went on a business trip to the south that Tiao read Fang Jing’s sixty-eight love letters. The night deepened, and she felt tired. The love letters were scattered all over the bed and the floor and she felt she couldn’t put them back in order at the moment, so she let them stay a mess and slipped into her quilt nest to sleep.

In the dream, she senses someone opening the door with a key and then entering her bedroom. It is Chen Zai. Only Chen Zai has the key to her place. She doesn’t need to open her eyes—with Chen Zai walking into her house she never needs to open her eyes. Half asleep, she listens to the sounds he makes in her room, very softly, careful not to wake her. Next she hears the water from the bathroom, the clean smell of his body and the fresh fragrance of bath lotion slowly assailing her. He steps on the scattered love letters and lifts her quilt. He leans over her and kisses the tip of her nose gently, and then he slips into the quilt nest and holds her warm body tightly. He tries to awaken her. “My little sweet one, I’m back. My little sweet one, I’m back.” The endearment is a favourite of his. Still asleep, she pillows her head on his shoulder, thinking, why hadn’t she tidied up those love letters before he came back? Will he find them at daybreak? She feels reluctant to let him see the love letters on the bed and floor, but, at the same time, she wants him to read them. She doesn’t know what is wrong with her. Perhaps her vanity has come to pay her a visit again? It isn’t good timing, and it is also wrong. She longs for Chen Zai, the man who is going to marry her, to read another man’s love letters to her, so he will know how she deserves his love just because she had been loved so deeply by another man. How insecure she is! About to get married, she turns to old love letters for help. She feels tickling at her ears. Chen Zai is licking them. He finally wakens her and turns her over to lie on her body. Their movements shake the letters from the bed to the floor with a rustling sound, but Chen Zai sees and hears nothing. He is always so passionate and intent when making love to Tiao; his single-minded devotion to please and satisfy her is precious to her. It is truly devotion, the richest form of nurture a man can provide a woman. He nurtures her with his devotion and strength, such strength that she feels he is going to melt her. And there is a wild, uncontrollable spasm deep in her body, which carries on into her waking. She sighs, and feels embarrassed about this sensation that she’d never had before in sleep.

Everything in the dream made her miss Chen Zai more. Gazing at the translucent curtain lit by the morning rays of sunlight, she decided to burn all the love letters scattered on the bed and the floor. Even though, with Chen Zai’s temperament, he wouldn’t have been troubled if she’d kept them, she just wanted to burn them and concentrate on the life of love she would have with Chen Zai. She got up, brushed her teeth, ate breakfast, and then started the burning. She gathered all the love letters in a stainless steel washbasin, took it to the kitchen, and struck a match to light them, using chopsticks to turn the flaming pages over so they could burn more completely. It felt like a method of cooking, something related to food. Her meticulous and thorough hand movements didn’t seem like destruction but creation. Maybe she was even aware herself that she was indeed making something with the burning. Otherwise, why would she have chosen to use kitchen utensils? Finally only a thin pile of ashes remained in the basin, very light, almost weightless. She collected the ashes into a juice glass and then poured water into it, which turned black. This glass of black water contained all the words that Fang Jing had written to her. Those pages of small, elegant characters he had written with black ink, his frenzied love for her, were all dissolved in this glass of black water. She had the desire to drink it, to give those black words a chance to survive or die in her body. So she drank, first a small sip, and then a big swallow. In the end, she drank it all, this glass of black water.

She left the kitchen and came to the living room, sitting where she usually did, in the armchair she liked. She didn’t feel any discomfort in her stomach or intestine, and she was confident that her mood was stable. She wanted to call home and tell Yixun and Wu that Chen Zai was divorced. Hadn’t they said three years ago that it would be impossible for him to get a divorce? Hadn’t they called Tiao naïve, and didn’t Yixun tell her to “get out”? Now he was divorced, actually divorced. She wanted to call her parents to gloat, with a victor’s smugness, but also intended to relieve their worries. Ever since Yixun told Tiao to “get out,” she went home only in the holidays. But just then the phone rang. She answered, and it was Fan.