Three Sisters (17 page)

Yuxiu's foolishness embarrassed Yumi, who tried to stop her. She was surprised to learn that Guo and his daughter actually found Yuxiu's questions intriguing and pleasing to the ear. She put smiles on their faces. Qiaoqiao even spit out a mouthful of rice several times from laughing so hard. Yumi, who never thought something like that could happen, was secretly pleased. Guo himself pointed to Yuxiu with his chopsticks after a hearty laugh and said to Yumi, "She's a fascinating little comrade."

Yuxiu was given a room behind the kitchen, facing the living quarters; from there she secretly observed Guo and his daughter as much as possible, waiting for the opportunity to divulge her desire to stay in Broken Bridge. The timing had to be perfect, and she needed to do it just right. She would have one chance, one beat of the drum. If she blew her chance the first time around, there would not be a second. She could not afford to be haphazard.

Sunday. There were no classes, so Qiaoqiao was home. Yuxiu decided to do Qiaoqiao's hair before lunch, something she did with instinctive imagination and creativity. After Yuxiu gave Qiaoqiao a shampoo, the basin was filled with greasy water. It was disgusting.

Even before she was finished, Yuxiu developed a loathing for this idiotic cunt, who was beneath contempt; she'd have liked nothing better than to shove the girl's face into that basin of pig grease and drown her. But her fate was tied to the girl, so she forced every finger on both hands to be obedient and docile. After the girl's hair was clean and dried, it was time for Yuxiu to comb and braid it.

Until now, Qiaoqiao had always worn a single, thick, unattractive braid, which gave her a hard, somewhat imperious look. Yuxiu thinned her hair with scissors, then parted it down the middle and gave Qiaoqiao a pair of small braids, which she coiled up and fastened at the ends. The tips of the braids rested just above her ears and bounced slightly when she moved—a mischievously chic look like that of the typical spoiled daughter of a traitor in the cinema. Without those two braids, Qiaoqiao, who was a bit of a tomboy to begin with, could easily have been mistaken for a boy. But now, thanks to Yuxiu's grooming, she at least looked like a girl and was clearly pleased with the results.

As she stood off to the side, Yuxiu said in a voice dripping with envy, "I'd love to have hair like yours, Qiaoqiao." She sounded sad, and once flattery reached that level of emotion, a recipient would have to be made of wood not to be moved. As expected, Qiaoqiao loved the sound of that comment. She beamed, grinning from ear to ear like a clam. All you could see on her face was her mouth. One look told Yuxiu that this was her chance.

She sighed. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if I could be your personal servant, Qiaoqiao? But no such luck, I'm afraid."

Qiaoqiao was admiring herself in the mirror, first from one angle, then another, marveling over how nice she looked.

"That shouldn't be much of a problem," Qiaoqiao blurted out.

Yuxiu carried on a cheerful conversation with Qiaoqiao during lunch, which sounded strange to Guo Jiaxing, since that wasn't like his daughter, who was never chummy with Yumi. But she obviously was with Yuxiu.

After losing her mother at such a young age, no wonder the poor girl saw Yumi as the enemy. Guo couldn't recall ever seeing her in such a good mood, and he was so happy he ate more rice than usual.

As she handed Guo Jiaxing his rice bowl, Yuxiu knew that her moment had arrived.

"Brother-in-law," she said, "Qiaoqiao and I have agreed that I'm going to be her personal servant. I'll stay here—but you have to supply three meals a day." She said it like a spoiled, winsome little girl. But she knew that this was the critical moment and waited nervously for his reaction. Holding his bowl in his hand, he took a look at Qiaoqiao's head. He had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

As he shoveled some rice into his mouth he mumbled, "Serve the people."

The words made Yuxiu's heart lurch. Her hand shook. But she knew that everything was okay. Thinking her sister was joking, Yumi dismissed what had just happened. But Yuxiu turned to her and said, "Well then, dear sister, I'll stay."

So it hadn't been a joke after all. Like a medicinal plaster, the little scamp had found a way to stick around. Yumi didn't know what to say. Qiaoqiao put down her bowl and left the table, and as she watched the girl walk away, Yuxiu reached over and grabbed Yumi's wrist, squeezing it tightly as she whispered, "I know my own sister wouldn't want me to leave." The real message in this comment was a plea. Yumi knew that, and she still could not abide the way Yuxiu had used her cunning to her advantage. But what could she say in light of Yuxiu's sisterly comment? She just pursed her lips and shot a glance at Yuxiu, slowly chewing her food as she said to herself,
You can't stay in Wang Family Village, you little whore, so you come here to upstage me with your slick ways.

Yuxiu lowered her head. Everyone present would have been surprised by how fast her heart was pounding at that moment. She was on edge. As she shoveled food into her mouth, her heart leaped into her throat and she nearly choked. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
I got what I came for, a place to live,
she thought. Seeing her sister's empty bowl, Yuxiu jumped up to refill it. But Yumi put it down and announced, "I'm full."

So Yuxiu now had a place to live, and though she hadn't given a thought to how her sister would feel about that, Yumi actually had high hopes for her and was content to let her be on her own. But Yumi found Yuxiu's budding friendship with Qiaoqiao hard to accept. Guo's foolish daughter was not easy to deal with, and Yumi realized that she was afraid of Qiaoqiao.

Normally, Yumi feared no one, but now she found that the girl had her exactly where she wanted her. Qiaoqiao was not the calculating type, not someone adept at playing tricks. Not Qiaoqiao. She was openly ruthless and tyrannical. She said what was on her mind and did what she felt like. That was just the sort of person Yumi found difficult.

Yumi recalled, for instance, how Qiaoqiao had come home from school one day shortly after the marriage, and Yumi had tried to show the girl how kind a stepmother she could be. In front of a crowd in the government compound, Yumi greeted the girl. "Back from school already, Qiaoqiao," she said with a smile as she reached out for the girl's schoolbag.

Qiaoqiao rewarded her by calling her a "dumb cunt"—hardly expected, especially in front of all those officials.

For Yumi, it was a disastrous loss of face. That night in bed she told Guo Jiaxing what had happened. "Why would she do that?" Yumi asked. "It was as if she'd seen the devil herself."

Showing a remarkable lack of interest, Guo said in an offhanded way, "She's only a child."

"A child? She's not much younger than me." Actually, Yumi didn't say that; she just thought it. This was not something she dared to say aloud. She was disheartened. Barely older than the dense Qiaoqiao, she did what was expected of a stepmother, but her dignity was in shambles and she had gained nothing for her effort. But that's how parenting works sometimes. When you lose a mate, the natural reaction is to feel you've let your child down, and so to compensate, you spoil the child, who then becomes self-indulgent and undisciplined. As Yumi lay beside Guo Jiaxing, her chilled heart was filled with grievances. In the final analysis, men cannot be trusted. They flatten themselves out on top of you to satisfy their desire and exaggerate their emotional involvement. They are calculating in their choice of whom to be close to and whom to keep at arm's length. A man is one thing before he pulls out and something altogether different after—bitterly disappointing.

Yumi wanted a heart-to-heart talk with Qiaoqiao so she could make it clear that she didn't expect the girl to call her "Mother." She knew she could never be the girl's mother. But she could call her "Aunty," couldn't she? And if that was too much to ask, how about Elder Sister? Or she could settle simply on Yumi. But not a peep out of Qiaoqiao.

Daughter and stepmother spent most of every day together in the same rooms, and Qiaoqiao would not speak to her, as if a single sentence would split her lips. She just glared at Yumi as if she were a mortal enemy, refusing to give her a chance, unless, that is, Yumi liked the idea of being cursed. Qiaoqiao's mouth was typical for a girl born to a mother who did not have the chance to bring her up right. There was nothing she wouldn't say. Where had she picked up these things? You had to hand it to her. Yumi sometimes felt that her devotion to her "daughter" fared less well than feeding a broom—at least a broom acknowledges the effort with a bit of noise. Yumi could only sigh. She did fine as a second wife, but was a failure as a stepmother.

For some reason, Qiaoqiao and Yumi were natural enemies, like a mouse and a cat or a weasel and a dog.

Yuxiu could not have been happier. She derived considerable, if inexplicable, satisfaction from seeing anyone go after Yumi. Yuxiu's heart flowered despite her attempts to suppress it, and that always led to smiles of pleasure. In Yumi's presence she maintained a humble, modest attitude, but it was all an act. What she felt inside was a sense of liberation like that of an emancipated peasant. If Qiaoqiao called to her, instead of answering right away, she would cast a glance at Yumi before walking somewhat reluctantly, almost furtively, up to Guo's daughter as if she were afraid of offending Yumi. In reality, she was putting her sister on notice, confusing her by digging a hole so deep that Yumi could not see the bottom and would forever be kept in the dark. In this way, Yuxiu created a mysterious relationship with Qiaoqiao, a cleverly concealed alliance in which they worked together with one mind. If Yumi asked about something, Yuxiu would feign ignorance and pretend to rack her brains. "That can't be," she'd say. Or "Don't ask me" or "You don't think she'd tell me, do you?" Or simply, "I forget."

Once again, Yuxiu had a backer. Whenever Yumi tried to size up her sister, there was a sense of vigilance in her gaze—exactly what Yuxiu had hoped for. So long as Yumi hated her, saw her as a competitor, and was on her guard against her, then that was proof they were equals. Yuxiu did not want her sister to feel sorry for her. To keep that from happening, she relied upon Qiaoqiao.
I don't mind demeaning myself in front of others, but I cannot yield to Yumi,
thought Yuxiu.
Why did we have to be sisters in the first place? How strange.

Yuxiu's job was to wait on Qiaoqiao. In general that meant taking care of the girl's appearance, and under Yuxiu's tutelage, Qiaoqiao had a change of attitude:
I'm not a boy; I'm a girl, like any other girl.
Her expectations in regard to her femininity rose dramatically. But she was too clumsy to improve her appearance on her own. Yuxiu, on the other hand, was an expert.

In light of Yumi's objections, Yuxiu didn't dare to pay too much attention to her own appearance, so she applied all her styling techniques to Qiaoqiao's hair, accessories, buttons, and braided ornaments. She had that special knack and an assertive attitude that gave her a sense of accomplishment that belied a deep-seated sorrow, which was manifest in her attention to detail.

Qiaoqiao was a girl transformed, and if her father had not been a deputy director, people would have criticized her for looking like a vixen. Yuxiu worked especially hard on the girl's nails. She managed, somehow, to acquire some garden balsam flowers, which she ground into paste, added some alum, and dabbed meticulously on Qiaoqiao's fingernails, coat after coat; then she turned her attention to the girl's toenails. When she was finished, she wrapped the nails in broad bean leaves. Several days later, the effects were spectacular: Qiaoqiao's fingernails and toenails had changed color. They were bright red, beautiful, translucent, and remarkably eye-catching. Light bounced off them whenever she waved her hand or jiggled her feet.

There was something different about Qiaoqiao every day. The changes were visible and fundamental; they could be summed up in the saying "A girl undergoes dramatic changes at eighteen." The people in the government compound took notice. The most visible and fundamental change in Qiaoqiao was in her eyes and her actions—the way she carried herself. In earlier days, her most notable attribute had been rashness; she had impressed people as a guerrilla warrior, wild and reckless. That image was a thing of the past.

Now there was room for twists and turns in both her expressions and actions. Somewhat affected, to be sure, but feminine. She and Yuxiu were often seen entering or leaving the compound together, walking side by side like best friends, as sweetly paired as devoted sisters. That had been Yuxiu's fondest desire. Everyone in the compound knew who Yuxiu was. That's Yuxiu, they'd say. That's Director Guo's young sister-in-law. A pretty young thing.

But Yuxiu had a cold edge and a bit of arrogance. She seldom stopped to chat with anyone. When she was alone, she walked with a light step, her head cocked to one side so that half her face was covered by her hair and only one eye was visible. That left the impression that she was sulking for no apparent reason, which invested her with a haunted beauty. If startled by an unexpected encounter, she would sweep her hair behind her ear while a smile spread slowly across her face. That smile, unique to her, became famous in the compound. Rather than explode on her face, it formed in measured stages, from slight to broad, the corners of her mouth slowly retreating—silent and flirtatious, revealing a restrained coquettishness, an almost wanton and yet refined quality.

None of this escaped Yumi's eye. Yuxiu did not dare to put on her seductive, fox-fairy act in front of her sister, but she had not changed. She was like the dog that can't stop eating shit. In fact, she was getting worse. Sooner or later, Yumi would sound the alarm. But not yet, given her relationship with Qiaoqiao. But then again, Yumi knew that she must say something because of that relationship. When she did, the results would be less than ideal. They would be back to being sisters, two girls "born to be enemies."

Qiaoqiao came home early one day, having chosen not to participate in the school's afternoon of manual labor. She told Yuxiu to bring the photo albums out into the yard, where they looked at the pictures together. Yuxiu took pride in her assumption that she'd become a part of the family, that she'd made her way into its private places, its closely held secrets. It was a privilege denied Yumi. Yuxiu was treated to photos of Guo Jiaxing as a young man, Qiaoqiao's mother as a young woman, and Qiaoqiao herself as a little girl. She took after neither her father nor her mother, but had inherited the least-fetching features of both. They all came together to produce her homely face. But Yuxiu heaped compliments on every photo, her flattering words filling the air. On one page she spotted a young man who bore some slight resemblance to Guo Jiaxing but was better looking, with softer eyes, moist like a young mare's. With the refined, cultured look of someone with high ideals, he was dressed in a neatly pressed tunic. Yuxiu knew it could not be Guo Jiaxing—the aura was different. "Is this a picture of Director Guo as a young man?" she asked disingenuously.