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Author ' s Preface In this book I intended to write about a certain segment of society and a certain kind of people in modem China. In writing about these people, I did not forget they are human beings, still human beings with the basic nature of hairless, two-legged animals. The characters are of course fictitious, so those with a fondness for history need not trouble themselves trying to trace them out. The writing of this book took two years altogether. It was a time of great grief and disruption, during which I thought several times of giving up. Thanks to Madame Yang Chiang, who continuously urged me on while holding other matters at bay, I was able through the accumulation of many small moments to find the time to finish it. This book should be dedicated to her. But lately it seems to me that dedicating a book is like the fine rhetoric about offering one's life to one's country, or handing the reins of the government back to the people. This is but the vain and empty juggling of language. Despite all the talk about handing it over, the book remains like the flying knife of the magician released · without ever leaving the hand. And when he dedicates his work in whatever manner he chooses, the work is still the author's own. Since my book is a mere trifle, it does not call for such ingenious disingenuousness. dedication .
I therefore have not bothered myself about the
December 15 , 1946
CHIEN CHUNG-SHU
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1 THE RED SEA had long since been crossed, and the ship was now on its way over the Indian Ocean; but as always the sun mercilessly rose early and set late, encroaching upon the better part of the night. The night, like paper soaked in oil, had become translucent. Locked in the embrace of the sun, the night's own form was indiscernible. Perhaps it had become intoxicated by the sun, which would explain why the night sky remained flushed long after the gradual fading of the rosy sunset. By the time the ruddiness dissipated and the night itself awoke from its stupor, the passengers in their cabins had awakened, glistening with sweat; after bathing, they hurried out on deck to catch the ocean breeze. Another day had begun. It was toward the end of July, equivalent to the "san-fu"period of the lunar calendar the hottest days of the year. In China the heat was even more oppressive than usual. Later everyone agreed the unusual heat was a portent of troops and arms, for it was the twenty-sixth year of the Republic (1937). The French liner, the Vicomte de Bragelonne, was on its way to China. Some time after eight in the morning, the third-class deck, still damp from swabbing, was already filled with passengers standing and sitting about French, ] ewish refugees from Germany, the Indians, the Vietnamese, and needless to say, the Chinese. The ocean breeze carried with it an arid heat; the scorching wind blew dry the l:iodies of fat people and covered them with a frosty layer of salt congealed with sweat, as though fresh from a bath in the Dead Sea in Palestine. Still, it was early morning, and people's high spirits had not yet withered or turned limp under the glare of the sun. They talked and bustled about with great zest. The Frenchmen, newly ~missioned to serve as policemen in Vietnam or in the French Concession in China, had gathered around and were flirting with a coquettish young Jewish woman. Bismarck once remarked that what distinguished French ambassadors and ministers was that they couldn' t speak a word of any foreign language, but these policemen, although they did not understand any Getman, managed to get their meaning across well enough to provoke giggles from the Jewish woman, thus proving themselves far superior to their diplomats. The woman's handsome husband, who was standing nearby, watched with pleasure, since for the last few days he had been enjoying the large quantities of cigarettes, beer, and lemonade that had been coming his way. Once the Red 0
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Sea was passed, no longer was there fear of the intense heat igniting a fire, so , besides the usual fruit peelings, scraps of paper, bottle caps, and cigarette butts were everywhere. The French are famous for the clarity of their thought and the lucidness of their prose, yet in whatever they do, they never fail to bring chaos, filth, and hubbub, as witness the mess on board the ship. Relying on man's ingenuity and entrusted with his hopes, but loaded with his clutter, the ship sailed along amidst the noise and bustle; each minute it returned one small stretch of water, polluted with the smell of man, back to the indifferent, boundless, and never-ending ocean. Each summer as usual a batch of Chinese students were returning home after completing their studies abroad, and about a dozen of them were aboard. Most were young people who had not as yet found employment; they were hastening back to China at the start of the summer vacation to have more time to look for jobs. Those who had no worries about jobs would wait until the cool autumn before sailing leisurely toward home. Although some of those on board had been students in France, the others, who had been studying in England, Germany, and Belgium, had gone to Paris to gain more experience of night life before taking a French ship home. Meeting at a far corner of the earth, they became good friends at once, discussing the foreign threats and internal turmoil of their motherland, wishing they could return immediately to serve her. The ship moved ever so slowly, while homesickness welled up in everyone's heart and yearned for release. Then suddenly from heaven knows where appeared two sets of mahjong, the Chinese national pastime, said to be popular in America as well. Thus, playing mahjong not only had a downhome flavor to it but was also in tune with world trends. As luck would have it, there were more than enough people to set up two tables of mahjong. So, except for eating and sleeping, they spent their entire time gambling. Breakfast was no sooner over than down in the dining room the first round of mahjong was to begin. Up on deck were two Chinese women and one toddler, who didn' t count as a full person at least the ship' s company did not consider him as one and had not made his parents buy a ticket for him. The younger woman, wearing sunglasses and with a novel spread on her lap, was elegantly dressed. Her skin would be considered fair among Orientals, but unfortunately it looked stale and dry; and even though she wore a light lipstick, her lips were a little too thin. When she removed her sunglasses, she exposed delicate eyes and eyebrows, and when she rose from the canvas lounge chair, one could see how slight she was. Moreover, the outline of her figure was perhaps too sharp, as if it had been drawn with a square-nibbed pen. She could be twenty-five or twenty-six, but then the age of modern women is like the birthdates traditional women used to list on their marriage cards, whose
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authentication required what the experts call external evidence, since they meant nothing in and by themselves. The toddler's mother, already in her thirties, was wearing an old black chiffon Chinese dress; a face marked by toil and weariness, her slanting downward eyebrows made her look even more miserable. Her son, not yet two years old, had a snub nose, two slanted slits for eyes, and eyebrows so high up and removed from the eyes that the eyebrows and the eyes must have pined for each other a living replica of the Chinese face in newspaper caricatures. The toddler had just learned to walk, and he ran about incessantly. His mother held him by a leather leash so that he could not run more than three or four steps without getting yanked back. Bothered by the heat, tired, and irritable from pulling, the mother, whose thoughts were on her husband who was gambling down below, constantly scolded her son for being a nuisance. The child, restricted in his movements, turned and dashed toward the young woman reading the book. Ordinarily the young woman had a rather conceited, aloof expression, much like that of a neglected guest at a large party or an unmarried maiden at a wedding feast. At that moment her distaste for the child surfaced so much so that not even her sunglasses could hide it. Sensing all that, the child's mother apologetically pulled at the strap and said, "You naughty child disturbing Miss Su! Come back here! How studious you are, Miss Su! You know so much and still you read all the time. Mr. Sun is always telling me, 'Women students like Miss Su give China a good name. She's beautiful and has a Ph. D. besides. Where cah you ever find such nice people?' Here I went abroad for nothing and never even cracked a book. I keep house, and I forgot everything I ' d learned as soon as l had him. Hey! You pest! I told you not to go over there. You' re up to no good. You' ll get Miss Su' s clothes all dirty for sure. " Miss Su had always scorned the poor, simple-minded Mrs. Sun and detested children, but when she heard all that, she was quite pleased. Smiling pleasantly, she said, " Let him come. I love kids. " She removed her sunglasses, closed the book she had been staring at vacantly, and with utmost caution she clasped the child's wrist before he could wipe his hands all over her clothes. "Where' s Papa?" she asked him. Without answering, the child opened his eyes wide and went, "Poo, poo," at Miss Su, spitting out saliva in imitation of the goldfish blowing bubbles in the tank in the dining room. Miss Su hastily let go of his arm and pulled out a handkerchief to protect herself. His mother yanked him away, threatening to slap him. Then sighing, she said, "His father is gambling down below. Where else? I can't understand why all men like gambling so much. Just look at the ones on this boat. Every last one of them is gambling his head off. I wouldn't mind so much if it . brought in a little something. But my husband, Mr. Sun, he's already
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gambled away a tidy sum and he just keeps going. It makes me so mad!" When Miss Su heard these last petty remarks, she, in spite of herself, felt a renewed contempt for Mrs. Sun. "You know, Mr. Fang does not gamble, " she remarked coldly. Mrs. Sun turned up her nose and sniffed. "Mr. Fang! He played too when he first got on the boat. Now he' s too busy chasing Miss Pao, so naturally he can't spare the time. Romance is the big event of a lifetime, far more important than gambling. I just can't see what there is about that Miss Pao, coarse and dark as she is, to make Mr. Fang give up a perfectly good second-class berth for the discomforts of the third class. I see those two are getting on gloriously. Maybe by the time the boat reaches Hong Kong they' 11 get married. It's certainly a case of 'fate bringing people together from a thousand li away. '" Miss Su felt a painful stabbing in her heart when she heard that. To answer Mrs. Sun and to console herself, she said, "Why, that ' s quite impossible! Miss Pao has a fiance; she told me so herself. Her fiance even financed her studies abroad. " Mrs. Sun said, "She has a fiance and is still so flirtatious? We are already antiques. At least we've learned something new this time. Miss Su, I'll tell you something funny. You and Mr. Fang were classmates in China. Does he always say whatever he pleases? Yesterday Mr. Sun was telling Mr. Fang about his poor luck in gambling, and Mr. Fang just laughed at him for having been in France all these years and not knowing anything about the French superstition; Mr. Fang said that if the wife is unfaithful and has an affair, the husband is sure to take first prize if he buys a lottery ticket, and he is sure to win if he gambles. And he added that if a man loses at gambling, he should take it as a consolation. When Mr. Sun told me all that, I scolded him for not asking that Fang fellow just what he meant. Looking at it now, it seems Miss Pao' s fiance could certainly take first prize in the aviation lottery. If she became Mr. Fang's wife, Mr. Fang's luck at gambling would have to be good. " The viciousness of a kind, simplehearted soul, like gritty sand in the rice or splinters in a de boned fish, can give a person unexpected pain. "Miss Pao' s behavior is just too unlike a student's. And the way she dresses is quite disgraceful "Miss Su remarked. The toddler suddenly stretched his hands behind their chairs, laughing and jumping about. The two women looked around and saw that it was none other than Miss Pao coming toward them, waving a piece of candy at the child from a distance. She was wearing only a scarlet top and navy blue, skin-tight shorts; her red toenails showed through her white, open-toed shoes. Perhaps for a hot day in the tropics, this was the most sensible attire; one or two non-
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Chinese women on board dressed exactly like that. Miss Su felt that Miss Pao' s exposed body constituted an insult to the body politic of the Chinese nation. When men students saw Miss Pao, the burned with lewd desire, and found some relief by endlessly cracking jokes behind her back. Some called her a charcuterie a shop selling cooked meats- because only such a shop would have so much warm-colored flesh on public display. Others called her "Truth," since it is said that "the truth is naked." But Miss Pao wasn't exactly without a stitch on, so they revised her name to "Partial Truth." As Miss Pao approached, she greeted the two women, "You' re sure up early. On a hot day like this, I prefer to loaf in bed. I didn' t even know when Miss Su got up this morning. I was sleeping like a log. " She had intended to say "like a pig," then on second thought decided to say "like a corpse. " Finally, feeling a corpse wasn ' t much better than a pig, she borrowed the simile from English. She hastened to explain, "This boat really moves like a cradle. It rocks you until you're so woozy all you want to do is " seep. I "Then you're the precious little darling asleep in the cradle. Now, isn't that cute! " said Miss Su. Miss Pao gave her a cuff, saying, "You! Su Tung-p'o's little sister, the girl genius!" "Su Hsiao-mei" ( Su' s little sister) was the nickname the men students on board had given Miss Su. The words, "Tung-p' o" when pronounced by Miss Pao in her South Seas accent sounded like tombeau , the French word for tomb. Sharing a cabin with Miss Pao, Miss Su slept in the lower berth, which was much more convenient because she didn' t have to climb up and down every day; but in the last few days she had begun to hate Miss Pao, feeling Pao was doing everything possible to make her life miserable snoring so loudly she couldn't sleep well, and turning over so heavily it seemed the upper berth would cave in. When Miss Pao hit her, she said, "Mrs. Sun, you be the judge of who's in the right. Here I call her 'precious little darling' and I still get hit! To be able to fall asleep is a blessing. I know how much you enjoy sleeping, so I'm always careful never to make a sound so I won't wake you up. You were telling me you were afraid of getting fat, but the way you like to sleep on the ship, I think you must have gained several pounds already. " The child was yelling for the candy, and as soon as he got it into his mouth, he chewed it up. His mother told him to thank Miss Pao, but he paid no attention, so the mother had to humor Miss Pao herself. Miss Su had already noticed that the candy cost nothing. It was just a sugar cube served aboard the ship with coffee at breakfast. She despised Miss Pao for the way '
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she put on. Not wanting to speak to Miss Pao anymore, she opened her book again, but from the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Miss Pao pulling two deck chairs over to an empty spot some distance away and arranging them side by side. She- secretly reviled Miss Pao for being so shamless, but at the same time hated herself for having spied on Miss Pao. At that point Fang Hung-chien came on deck. As he passed by Mrs. Sun and Miss Su, he stopped to say a few words. "How's the little fellow?" Mrs. Sun replied curtly, not paying much attention to him. Miss Su said with a smile, "You'd better hurry. Aren't you afraid someone will get impatient?" Fang Hung chien blushed and gave a silly smile, then walked away from Miss Su. She knew perfectly well she couldn't keep him back, but when he left, she felt a sense of loss. Not a word of the book sank in. She could hear Fang was smoking a cigarette. As Miss Pao held out her hand toward him, he pulled out his cigarette case and offered her one. Miss Pao held it in her mouth, and as he made a gesture with his fingers on the lighter to light it for her, she suddenly tilted her mouth upward, and touching her cigarette with the one he was smoking, breathed in. With the cigarette lit, Miss Pao triumphantly blew out a puff of smoke. Miss Su was so furious that chills ran through her body. Those two have no sense of shame whatsoever, she thought, right in full view of everyone using cigarettes to kiss. Unable to bear the sight any longer, she stood up and said she was going below. Actually she knew there was no place to go below the deck. People were playing cards in the dining room, and the sleeping cabins were too stuffy. Mrs. Sun was also thinking of going down to her husband to see how much money he had lost that day, but she was afraid if he had lost badly he would take it out on her as soon as she asked him, and there would be a long quarrel when he returned to the cabin. Thus, she didn't dare get up rashly and only asked her son if he wanted to go down and pee. Miss Su' s condemnation of Fang Hung-chien for being shameless was actually unjust. At that moment he was so embarrassed that it seemed to him that everybody on deck was watching him. Inwardly he blamed Miss Pao for being too overt in her behavior and wished he could have said something to her about it. Although he was now twenty-seven and had been engaged before, he had had no training in love. His father had passed the second-degree examination under Manchu rule and was a prominent squire in his native district south of the Yangtze. Nine out of ten of the emigrants from this district living in big cities were now either blacksmiths, bean-curd makers, or sedan-chair carriers. The most famous indigenous crafts were clay dolls; and for young men entering college, civil engineering was the most popular discipline. The intractability of iron, the insipidity of bean curd, the
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society. Never had I thought once you parted from me that you would pick up such base habits. Most deplorable and disgusting! Moreover, it is said that "When one's parents are still living, a son should not speak of getting old. " You have no consideration for your parents, who hold you dearly in their hearts, but frighten them with the talk of death. This is certainly neglect of filial duties to the extreme! It can only be the result of your attending a coeducational school seeing women around has put ideas in your head. The sight of girls has made you think of change. Though you make excuses about "autumnal melancholy," I know full well that what ails you are the "yearnings of spring-time." Nothing can escape this old -timer's sharp eye. If you carry on with this foolishness, I will cut off your funds and order you to discontinue your studies and return home. Next year you will get married at the same time as your brother. Give careful thought to my words and take them to heart. "Fang Hung-chien was shaken to the core, never expecting his father to be quite so shrewd. He wasted no time in getting off a reply begging forgiveness and explained that the mirror was his roommate ' s and not something he had bought himself. Within the last few days, after taking some American cod liver oil pills and German vitamin tablets, his health and spirits had taken a turn for the better, and his face had filled out, he assured his father, except that the high cost of medicine· had been more than he could afford. As for his marriage, he would like to ask that it be postponed until after his graduation. For one thing, it would interfere with his schooling; for another he was still unable to support a family and would not feel right about adding to his father's responsibilities. When his father received the letter, which proved that the father's authority had reached across several hundred miles, his father was extremely gratified. In high spirits, his father sent him a sum of money so he could buy tonic medicine. From then on, he buried his feelings and dared not indulge in vain hopes. He began reading Schopenhauer and would often say wisely to his classmates, "Where is romantic love in the world It's entirely the reproductive urge. " In no time at all he was a senior in college and was to marry the year following his graduation. One day an express letter came from his father. It read as follows: " I have just received a telegram from your father-in-law. I was greatly shocked to learn that Shu ying was stricken with typhoid fever, and due to the negligence of a Westerntrained doctor, she passed away at four o ' clock in the afternoon on the thirteenth of this month. I am deeply sorry. Marriage was so close at hand; all good things have unexpected setbacks. It is all due to your lack of good fortune. "The postscript read: "This may be a blessing in disguise. If you had married three years earlier, this would have cost us a large sum of money. But with a family of such virtue as ours, if the marriage had take place earlier,
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perhaps Shu-ying would have been spared this calamity and lived a long life. One' s marriage is predestined, and you have no cause to be overly grieved. You should, however, send a letter of condolence to your father-in-law. "Fang Hung-chien read this with the joy of a pardoned criminal. But for the girl whose life had been cut short he felt a tinge of pity. While exulting in his own freedom, he wanted to help lessen others' grief. He therefore wrote a long letter of commiseration to his would-befather-in-law. When Mr. Chou received the letter, he felt that the young man knew etiquette, and so he instructed the bank' s chief-secretary Mr. Wang to send a reply. When Chief-secretary Wang read Fang Hung-chien 's letter, he had high praise for his boss' s would-be son-in-law, remarking that the young man's calligraphy and literary style were both excellent, and that the expression of his feelings for the deceased was deep and genuine, indicative of a very kind heart and talent that would take him far. Delighted with all this, Chou instructed Wang to reply in the following manner:" Although my daughter was never wed, our in- law relationship will remain unchanged. I had but one daughter and had originally planned to give her a grand wedding. Now I am going to give the entire amount, which I had set aside for the wedding and the dowry, along with the earnings from investments made with your family' s betrothal present altogether a sum of over twenty thousand dollars or one thousand three hundred British pounds to finance your education abroad after your graduation from college next year. "Even in his dreams Fang Hung-chien had never conceived of such a stroke of good fortune and felt profound gratitude toward his deceased fiancee. He was a worthless sort, who could never learn civil engineering, and while at the university he had switched his major from sociology to philosophy before finally settling down as a Chinese literature major. It may sound a bit absurd for someone majoring in Chinese to go abroad for advanced study. In fact, however, it is only for those studying Chinese literature that it is absolutely necessary to study abroad, since all other subjects such as mathematics, physics, philosophy, psychology, economics, and law, which have been imported from abroad, have already been Westernized. Chinese literature, the only native product, is still in need of a foreign trade-mark before it can hold its own, just as Chinese officials and merchants have to convert the money they have fleeced at home into foreign exchange to maintain the original value of the national currency. During his stay in Europe, Fang Hung-chien did not spend his time transcribing the Tun-huang manuscripts or visiting the Yung-lo collections or looking for relevant documents on the T'ai-p'ing Heavenly Kingdom. Within four years he had gone the rounds of three universities: London, Paris, and Berlin. He took a few courses here and there, and though his interests were
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fairly broad, he gained nothing at all in the way of knowledge, mostly dissipating his life away in idleness. In the spring of the fourth year, with only three hundred pounds left in the bank, he decided to return home in the summer. His father had written asking him if he had received his Ph. D. and when he would be coming home. He replied with a long letter denouncing the Ph. D. title as having absolutely no practical value. His father did not see it that way at all, but now that his son had grown up, he hesitated to threaten him again with paternal authority, and merely said that he knew perfectly well titles were useless and that he would never forece his son to get one, but his son had a duty toward Mr. Chou, who had invested a large sum of money on his education. A few days later, Fang Hung-chien also received a letter from his father-in-law, which said in effect" A worthy son- in -law like you with talent and learning and a reputation extending far and wide does not need to flaunt a Ph. D. But your father passed the Manchu second-degree examination and therefore it seems only fitting that your become the foreign equivalent of the third-degree holder, following in your father's footsteps and even surpassing him. Then I too would share in your glory." Finding himself pressured on both sides, Fang Hung-chien finally realized the importance of a foreign diploma. This diploma, it seemed, would function the same as Adam and Eve's figleaf. It could hide a person's shame and wrap up his disgrace. This tiny square of paper could cover his shallowness, ignorance, and stupidity. Without it, it was as if he were spiritually stark naked and had nothing to bundle up in. But as for getting a degree at that point, whether by studying toward it himself or hiring a ghost writer to write a dissertation, there was neither time nor money. A Ph. D. from the nearby University of Hamburg was considered the easiest to muddle through, but even it required six months. He could just go ahead and deceive his family by saying he'd received a Ph. D. , but then he was afraid that he couldn't fool his father and father-in-law. As one who had passed the old second-degree examination, his father would want to see the official "announcement. " His father-in-law, a businessman, would want to see the "title deed." Unable to think of a solution, he was prepared to return home brazen-faced and tell them that he had not obtained a degree. One day as he was going to the Chinese bibliography section of the Berlin library to see a German friend, he noticed on the floor a large stack of periodicals published in Shanghai during the first years of the Republic of China, including The Eastern Miscellany, Short Story Monthly, The Grand China, and the Women's Magazine. Having stopped to leaf leisurely through one, he happened to see an advertisement with Chinese .and English parallel texts placed by the " Correspondence Division of the Carleton Institute of Law and Commerce" in the city of New
25
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York. It stated that for those Chinese students who had the desire to study abroad but no opportunity to do so, the school had special correspondence courses, upon completion of which certificate equivalents of the B. A. , M. A. , or Ph. D. degrees would be granted. The brochures would be forwarded immediately upon request by writing to such and such a number and on such and such a street in New York City. Fang's heart skipped a beat. As a good twenty years had elapsed since the date of the advertisement, he had no way of knowing whether the school still existed or not. At any rate sending off a letter of inquiry won't cost much, he thought. The man who had placed the advertisement was actually a swindler. Since no Chinese was ever taken in, he had dropped it for another line of business and died some time ago. The apartment he had lived in was now rented to an Irishman, with all the Irish irresponsibility, quick wit, and poverty. It is said that an Irishman's fortune consists of his two breasts and two buttocks, but this one, being a tall, thin Bernard Shaw-type of man, did not have much breast or buttocks. When he came upon Fang's letter in his mailbox, he thought the mailman had made a mistake. But the address was clearly his; so full of curiosity, he opened the letter. Greatly puzzled, he mulled over it for a while, then leaped for joy. He quickly borrowed a typewriter from a tabloid reporter next door and typed out the following reply:" Since you have been studying in a university in Europe, your level of achievement must be quite high, making it unnecessary for you to go through the correspondence procedures. You need only send a 10,000word dissertation and enclose five hundred U. S. dollars. After evaluating your qualifications, we will immediately forward to you a Ph. D. degree diploma. Letters can be addressed to myself without having to write the name of the school. Singed, Patrick Mahoney. " Underneath his name he conferred upon himself four or five doctoral titles. When Fang saw the letter was written on ordinary stationery without the name of the school engraved on it, and as the contents clearly showed the school to be fraudulent, he put it aside and forgot about it. The Irishman meanwhile grew impatient and sent off another letter stating that if Fang found the price too high, the price could be negotiated. He himself had always loved China, and as an educator, he was particularly averse to profit-seeking. Fang mulled it over for a while, suspecting that the Irishman was undoubtedly up to tricks. If he bought a bogus diploma and went back to dupe other people with it, wouldn't he himself be a fraud? But, remember, Fang had once been a philosophy major, and to a philosophy major lying and cheating were not always immoral. In Plato' s Ideal State soldiers were justified in fooling the enemy, doctors in fooling their patients, and officials in fooling the people. A sage like Confucius had pretended to be ill in order to trich J u Pei into leaving, and even Mencius
27
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had lied to King Hslian of Ch' i and pretended that he was ill. Since both his father and his father-in-law hoped he would become a Ph. D. , how could he, a son and son-in-law, dare disappoint them? Buying a degree to deceive them was like purchasing an official rank in Manchu times, or like the merchants of a British colony contributing a few ten thousand pounds notes to the royal exchequer in exchange for a knighthood, he reasoned. Every dutiful son and worthy son-in-law should seek to please his elders by bringing glory to the family. In any case's when later it came time for him to look for a job, he would never include this degree in his resume. He might as well try slashing the price, and if the Irishman refused, he could then forget the whole thing and avoid turning into a fraud himself. So he replied that he would pay one hundred U.S. dollars, making a thirty-dollar down payment, and when the diploma was delivered, he would send the rest, and that thirty or more other Chinese students were also interested in dealing with "your honorable school" in the same manner. At first, the Irishman would not agree. Later, realizing that Fang's decision was firm, and having ascertained from local sources that American doctoral titles were indeed fashionable in China, he gradually became convinced that there really were thirty-odd Chinese muddleheads in Europe wanting to buy a degree from him. He also learned that there were a number of organizations engaged in the same business, such as the University of the East, Eastern United States of America University, the Intercollegiate University, and the Truth University, where one could buy an M.A. diploma for as little as ten U.S. dollars, while the College of Divine Metaphysics offered a bargain package of three types of Ph. D. diplomas. All these were formally accredited and registered schools with which he could never hope to compete. Therefore, keeping his objective of low profits but wide markets in mind, he came to terms with Fang Hung-chien. When he received the thirty dollars, he printed up forty or fifty diplomas, filled one out, and sent it to Fang. In an accompanying letter he pressed Fang to send the balance and to in-form the others to apply to him. Fang replied that, after making a careful investigation, he had found no such school in the United States and that the diploma amounted to waste paper. But he would be lenient toward a first offender and not press charges in hopes that the Irishman would repent and reform himself. Nonetheless, he did send the Irishman ten extra U.S. dollars to help tide the Irishman over while changing to another line of work. The Irishman was so enraged that he cursed without stop, got drunk and redeyed, and sought to pick a fight with any Chinese he could find. The incident may well mark China's sole victory over the foreigners since she began to have foreign relations or signed her first treaty of commerce. Afterwards , Fang went to a photo studio, donned the German doctoral
29
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robe and had a four-inch picture taken. He sent a copy each to his father and father-in-law. In a letter he reiterated how all his life he had hated the title of doctor and that while this time he could not avoid the convention, it was not worth mentioning his degree to others. He returned to France where he enjoyed himself a few weeks, then bought a second-class steamship ticket for the return trip home. After boarding the ship at Marseilles, he discovered that he was the only Chinese traveling second class and was lonely and bored. The Chinese students in the third class felt that he, being a student, too, was just flaunting his wealth by traveling ~econd class, and they eyed him with some hostility. Learning of an empty berth in the cabin of a Vietnamese, he made arrangements with the purser to give up his original cabin and go sleep in third class, while still taking his meals in the second class. Among the Chinese on board, the only one he knew from China was Miss Su , Who had studied French literature at Lyons. She had written her dissertation on eighteen Chinese poets of the colloquial style and had just received her doctorate. When Fang and she were cla~mates at college, she had never even noticed the existence of the little nobody Fang Hung-chien . In those days she valued her affection too highly to bestow it casually. Now, however, she was just like the person who has some fine clothes made and, saving them for good occasions, locks them in a chest. Then one or two years later she suddenly finds their style and design are out of fashion and is filled with disappointment and regret. Before, she had had her heart set on studying abroad and despised those sui tors for their lack of prospects, since they were merely college graduates. But now that she was a woman Ph. D. , she felt the loneliness of her lofty perch, which was higher than anyone dared climb. She knew a little about Fang's family background; and observing that he was a nice person and didn't seem to lack money, she thought she might use the trip to give him an opportunity to get near her. She never guessed that her cabinmate, Miss Pao, would beat her to him. Miss Pao was born and raised in Macao and was said to have Portuguese blood. To say she had "Portuguese blood" was the same as for the Japanese to claim they have native culture, or for an author who has plagiarized a foreign play to declare in his revised version, " copyright reserved, translations forbidden," since the Portuguese blood had Chinese ingredients mixed in it from the start. But to judge from Miss Pao' s figure, her Portuguese mother may also have had Arab blood inherited indirectly from Spain. Miss Pao had a very slender waist, which fit exactly the standard of feminine beauty the Arab poet praised and described at length in Arabian Nights: " Her waist was slender, her hips were heavy and did weight her down whene' er she would rise." Under her long eyelashes was a pair of sleepy, seemingly drunken, dreamy, big smiling eyes; her full, round upper 31
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lip seemed to be angrily pouting at a lover. Her fiance Dr. Li, without any sense of prudence, had given her the money to study obstetrics in London by herself. The Portuguese have a saying that for a lucky man the firstborn is always a girl (A homen ventureiro a filha lhe nasce primeiro) , because when the girl grows up, she will be handy around the house and look after her younger brothers and sisters; thus before her marriage she saves her parents the expense of hiring a maid. Miss Pao was used to being at her parents' beck and call. Being clever, she realized that she would have to find her own opportunity and seek her own happiness by herself. She therefore chose to become engaged to a man twelve years older, so she could have the chance to go abroad. The British are accustomed to seeing fair skin, so when they saw her dark, though not black, color with its rich, spicy attractiveness, they thought she was a true Oriental beauty. She believed herself to be very seductive, so she was very quickly and easily seduced. Fortunately, being a medical student, she did not take these affairs seriously or get into any trouble. After two years in England she was now returning to get married and set up a joint practice with her husband. Once aboard the ship, the Chinese students found out she carried a British passport issued by the Hong Kong government, which meant she was not a Chinese citizen, so they did not quite warm up to her. Since she couldn' t speak French and didn' t care to talk about home with the third-class Cantonese waiters, she felt terribly bored. She saw Fang was a second-class passenger and thought he might make a good companion to while away the time during the trip. Miss Su, who pictured herself in the words of the familiar saying, "as delectable as peach and plum and as cold as frost and ice," decided she would allow Fang to humbly gaze at her in admiration and then prostrate himself to beg for her love. Who would have thought that while the temperature hovered around 100 degrees every day, this sweet, cool ice cream manner of hers was completely ineffective. By merely letting drop one lighthearted remark, Miss Pao had Fang hooked. The day after Fang had moved to the third class, he went up on deck for a stroll and happened to run into Miss Pao, who was leaning against the ship's railing by herself and taking in a breath of air. He greeted her and struck up a conversation. Before he had said more than a sentence or two, Miss Pao remarked with a smile, "Mr. Fang, you remind me of my fiance. You look so much like him! "She made him feel both embarrassed and pleased. When an attractive woman says you look like her fiance, it is tantamount to saying that if she were not engaged, you would be qualified to win her love. A real cynic might interpret this as meaning: she already has a fiance, so you can enjoy a fiance's privileges without having to fulfill the obligation of marrying her. Be that as it may, from that point on their friendship grew with the speed of a
33
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tropical plant. All the other Chinese men students teased Fang and made him treat everyone to iced coffee and beer. Although Fang was inwardly critical of Miss Pao for her immodest behavior, he was also feeling excited. When he turned his head and saw Miss Su and Mrs. Sun's empty chairs, he was thankful the cigarette incident had passed without their notice. That evening it became windy, and the ship began pitching slightly. After ten o' clock only four of five couples were on deck, hiding in the shadows from the gleam of lights, murmuring sweet words to each other. Fang and Miss Pao strolled along side by side in silence. A big wave violently shook the ship, she nearly losing her balance. He then hooked his arm around her waist, and staying close to the railing, he kissed her hungrily. Her lips were ready, her body submissive. This stolen kis.'i, hurried and rough, gradually settled into a full and comfortable one. She deftly pushed aside his arm, and breathing heavily said, "You're suffocating me. I have a cold and can't breathe. You got away with it cheap. You haven't even begged for my love! " "I'll make it up by begging for it now, all right?" Like all men without love experience, he considered the word "love" much too noble and solemn to be used casually on women. He only felt he wanted her, not that he loved her, thus this evasiveness in his reply. "Anyway, you haven't anything nice to say. You can't get away with that same old line." "When you put your mouth against mine and I say something to you, those words pass right into your heart without having to take the long way around, making a turn, and going in through your ear. " "I'm not going to be fooled by you! If you have something to say, say it like a gentleman. That's enough for today. If you behave yourself, tomorrow I "He wasn't paying any attention and again put his arm- around her waist. Suddenly the ship lurched sideways. He had not taken hold of the railing and nearly pulled her down with him. At the same time, in the shadows, the other women let out shrill cries. Miss Pao took advantage of the situation and slipped away, saying, "I feel cold. I think I will go on down. See you tomorrow" ing him alone on deck. Dark clouds had already fanned in the sky, disclosing here and there a few stars. The storm sounded like a man greedily gulping his food; the broad open sea of the daytime had now been completely digested in the even vaster night. Against this background the tumult in a man's heart shrinks to nothingness. Only a well of hope for the morrow, which has not yet descended into the vastness, illuminates itself like the speck of light from a firefly in the dark depths of boundless, roaring waves. •
35
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From that day on, Fang often ate his meals in the third class. Miss Su' s attitude toward him visibly cooled, so he asked Miss Pao in private why Miss Su had been snubbing him lately. Miss Pao laughed at him for being such a simpleton, adding, "I can guess why, but I won't tell you so you won't get more stuck up. "He said she was imagining things, but after this, whenever he met Miss Su, he felt even more awkward and ill at ease. The ship passed Ceylon and Singapore and in a few days reached Saigon. This was the first colony since the start of the voyage that the French could boast of as their own. The French on board were like dogs at the sight of their master's home - their chests suddenly filled out, their actions became more arrogant, and the pitch of their voices was raised. In the afternoon the ship docked and anchored for two nights. Miss Su' s relatives, who worked at the local Chinese consulate, sent a car to the wharf to pick her up for dinner, and so, with everyone watching enviously, she was the first one to get off the ship. The remaining students decided to eat at a Chinese restaurant. Fang Hung-chien wanted to eat somewhere else with Miss Pao, but feeling it would be too embarrassing to say this in front of the others, he just went along with them. After eating, the Suns left first to take their child back to the ship, while the others stopped at a coffee shop and Miss Pao suggested they go dancing. Though Fang had paid for a couple of dancing lessons in France, he was hardly a master at it. After one dance with Miss Pao, he retreated to the sidelines and watched her dance with others. After twelve o'clock everyone had had enough and was ready to return to the ship to sleep. When they got out of the rickshaws at the wharf, Fang and Miss Pao lingered behind. She said, "Miss Su won't be coming back tonight. " "My Vietnamese cabinmate has gone ashore too. I heard his berth was taken by a Chinese businessman on his way to Hong Kong from Saigon." "We '11 both be sleeping alone tonight," she said almost carelessly. It was as though lightning had flashed through his mind and produced a sudden blinding glare. All the blood rushed to his face. He was about to speak, when someone up front turned around and shouted, "What are you two talking about so much? Walking slowly because you' re afraid we ' ll eavesdrop, aren't you?" Without another word, the two hurried onto the ship. Everyone said, "Good night," and went his own way. Fang bathed and returned to his cabin, lay down, and then sat up again. Trying to dispel the thought, once it has lodged there, seems as agonizing as it is for a pregnant woman to have an abortion. Maybe Miss Pao had meant nothing by that remark. If he went to her, he might make a fool of himself. Since cargo was now being loaded on the deck and two watchmen were patrolling the corridors to prevent intruders from slipping in, there was no assurance he wouldn't be
37
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spotted by them. He couldn't make up his mind, yet he didn't want to give up hope. Suddenly he heard light, brisk footsteps, seemingly from the direction of Miss Pao' s cabin. His heart leaped up, but was then pressed down by those footsteps, as if each step trod upon it. The footsteps halted. His heart likewise stood still, not daring to stir, as though someone stood upon it. A long moment passed and his heart was oppressed beyond endurance. Fortunately, the footsteps resumed with renewed speed, coming closer, He was no longer in doubt, his heart no longer restraining itself. Wanting to shout with joy, he hopped from his bed and without getting his slippers all the way on, opened the door curtain to a whiff of Miss Pao' s usual talcum powder. When he woke the next morning, sunlight filled the room. By his watch it was past nine. He reminisced how sweet the night's sleep had been, too deep even for dreams. No wonder sleep was called the land of dark sweetness. He then thought of Miss Pao' s dark skin and sweet smile; later when he saw her he'd call her " Dark Sweetness, " making him think of dark, sweet chocolate. Too bad that French chocolate wasn' t any good and that the weather was too hot for eating it, for otherwise he would treat her to a box. Just as he was loafing in bed thinking of that nonsense, Miss Pao tapped on the outside of his cabin, called him "Lazybones," and told him to hurry and get up so they could go ashore and have fun. When he finished combing his hair and washing up, he went to her cabin and waited outside a long while before she finally finished dressing. Breakfast had already been served in the dining room, so they ordered and paid for two extra servings. The waiter who served them, Ah Liu, was the one in charge of Fang's cabin. When they had finished eating and were about to leave, Ah Liu, instead of clearing away the things on the table, smiled at them gleefully and stretched out his hand. In his palm were three hairpins. Mouthing Cantonese Mandarin. he said in a jumbled roundabout way, "Mr. Fang, I found these just now while making your bed." Miss Pao flushed crirruon and her big eyes seemed about to pop out of their sockets. Mortified, Fang cursed himself for being so stupid &'l not to have checked his bed when he got up. He pulled out three hundred francs fro~ his pocket and said to Ah Liu, "Here! Now give me back those things." Ah Liu thanked him, adding that he was most dependable and would certainly keep his mouth shut. Miss Pao looked elsewhere, pretending she knew nothing about it. After they left the dining room, Fang gave the hairpins back to Miss Pao, apologizing as he did so. She angrily flung them to the floor, saying, "Who wants them after they've been in the filthy hands of that wretch! " The incident ruined their luck for the whole day. Everything went
39
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wrong. The rickshaws took them to the wrong place; they paid the wrong amount of money when they went shopping; neither one had any good luck. Fang wanted to go eat lunch at the Chinese restaurant where they went the evening before, but Miss Pao was set on eating Western food, saying she didn' t want to meet anyone they knew from the ship. They then found a Western-type restaurant that looked respectable enough from the outside; but as it turned out, there wasn't a single thing edible from the cold dishes to the coffee. The soup was cold, and the ice cream was warm. The fish was like the Marine Corps. It apparently had already been on land for several days; the meat was like submarine sailors, having been submerged in water for a long time. Besides the vinegar, the bread, the butter, and the red wine were all sour. They completely lost their appetites while eating and couldn't hit it off in their conversation either. He tried to amuse her by calling her the affectionate nicknames "Dark Sweetie" and "Miss Chocolate."" Am I so dark then?" she asked heatedly. Stubbornly trying to justify himself, he argued, "But I like your color. This year in Spain I saw a famous beauty dancing. Her skin was just a little lighter than a smoked ham." "Maybe you like Miss Su' s dead-fish-belly white. You yourself are as black as a chimney sweep. Just take a look at yourself in the mirror," she answered him none too logically. With that she flashed a triumphant smile. Having received a thorough blackening from Miss Pao, he could hardly go on. The waiter served the chicken. There on the plate was a piece of meat that seemed to have been donated by. the iron weathercock on a church steeple. Try as she might, Miss Pao could not make a dent in it. She put down her knife and fork, saying, "I haven't the teeth to bite into this thing. This restaurant is a total mess. " Fang attacked the chicken with a greater determination. "You wouldn't listen to me," he said through clenched teeth. "You wanted to eat Western
food." "I wanted to eat Western food, but I didn't ask you to come to this miserable restaurant! After the mistake is made, you blame someone else. All you men are like that! " She talked as though she had tested the character of every man in the world. After a while she somehow managed to bring up Dr. Li, her fiance, saying he was a devout Christian. Already piqued, Fang became disgusted upon hearing this. Since religious belief hadn't had the slightest effect on her behavior, he'd just have to use Dr. Li to get in a few digs at her, he thought. "How can a Christian practice medicine?" he asked. Without any idea of what he was driving at, she looked at him wideeyed. •
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He added some rice-water "milk" to the scorched bean-husk "coffee" in front of her, and said, "One of the Ten Commandments of Christianity is 'Thou shalt not kill, ' but what does a doctor do but professionalized killing?" Unamused, she shot back, "Don't be ridiculous! Medicine saves lives." Seeing how attractive she was when aroused, he decided to provoke her further. "No one who saves lives could be religious. Medicine wants people to live. It saves people's bodies. Religion saves people's souls and wants them not to fear death. So if a sick man is afraid of death, he'll call a doctor and take medicine. If the doctor and the medicine prove ineffective and there's no escape from death, then he'll get a minister or a priest to prepare him for his end. To study medicine and be religious at the same time comes down to: "If I can' t help a sick man to live properly, at least I can still help him die properly. Either way he can ' t go wrong by calling me in. ' It's like a pharmacist running a coffin shop on the side. What a racket!" She was greatly incensed:" I suppose you won't ever get sick and have to call a doctor. Your big mouth and glib tongue are spouting all kinds of nonsense. Well, I study medicine too. Why do you malign people for no reason? " Alarmed, he apologized. She complained of a headache and wanted to return to the ship to rest. All the way back he was very apologetic, but she remained in low spirits. After seeing her to her cabin, he slept for two hours himself. As soon as he got up he went to her cabin, tapped on the partition, and called her name, asking if she felt any better. To his surprise, the curtain opened and Miss Su came out saying Miss Pao was sick, had thrown up twice, and had just fallen asleep. He was at once chagrined and embarrassed; he said something lamely and beat a hasty retreat. During dinner everyone noticed Miss Pao' s absence and teased Fang, asking him where she was. He mumbled, "She's tired. She isn' t feeling well. " Gloatingly, Miss Su said, "She ate with Mr. Fang and came back with an upset stomach. Now she can't keep a thing down. I'm just afraid she's contracted dysentery!" The callous men students laughed heartily and spouted all sorts of nonsense, asking: "Who told her to eat with Little Fang behind our backs?" "Little Fang is a real disgrace! Why can't he pick a clean restaurant when he asks a girl out to eat?" "It couldn't be the restaurant's fault. Miss Pao was probably too happy and ate so much she couldn't digest it all. Right, Little Fang?" "Little Fang, you didn't get sick? Oh, I get it! Miss Pao' s beauty is such a feast to the eye, and you got your fill just looking at her and didn' t have to eat."
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"I'm afraid what he feasted on wasn' t beauty but "The speaker was going to say "cooked meat"; then suddenly thinking the words would be inelegant in front of Miss Su and might be passed on to Miss Pao, he picked up a piece of breads and stuffed it into his mouth. Fang actually hadn't had enough to eat during lunch but now could no longer stand everyone's teasing. Without waiting for all the dishes to be served, he took off, causing the others to laugh even harder. As he stood up and turned around, he saw the waiter, Ah Liu, standing behind him and giving him an understanding wink. Miss Pao stayed in bed for a day or two; then she finally got up. She still toyed with Fang but Not as freely as before. Perhaps because they would be reaching Hong Kong in a few days, she had to cleanse her mind and body in preparation for meeting her fiance. Three or four students and the Suns were going to disembark at Kowloon to take the Canton-Hankow train. With departure imminent they gambled away for all they were worth, only lamenting that lights were not permitted in the dining room after midnight. On the afternoon before arrival in Hong Kong, they exchanged home addresses and made repeated promises to see one another again, as if the shipboard friendship was never to be forgotten. Fang was about to go on deck to look for Miss Pao when Ah Liu furtively called him. Ever since the day he had given Ah Liu the three hundred francs, he felt uneasy whenever he saw Ah Liu. Hardening his expression, he asked Ah Liu what the matter was. Ah Liu said that among the cabins he took care of there was one vacant; he asked Fang if Fang wanted it for the evening, saying he would only ask six hundred francs for it. With a wave of the hand, Fang said, "What would I want with that?" and bounded up the steps two at a time, with Ah Liu laughing scornfully behind him. He suddenly realized what Ah Liu had had in mind and his face burned with shame. He went up to sputter out the incident to Miss Pao, cursing that scoundrel Ah Liu. She gave a snort, but as others were coming up, there was no chance to say anymore. During dinner, Mr. Sun said, "Today, to mark our parting, we should live it up and gamble through the whole night. Ah Liu has an empty cabin which I've reserved for two hundred francs." Miss Pao threw Fang a contemptuous glance, then immediately stared at her plate and ate her soup. Mrs. Sun, feeding her child with a spoon, asked meekly, "We ' ll be going ashore tomorrow. Aren't you afraid of getting tired?" Mr. Sun said," Tomorrow I' 11 find a hotel and sleep for days and nights on end. The engines on the ship are so noisy, I've not been sleeping well. " Meanwhile, Fang's self-esteem had deflated like a rubber tire under Miss
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Pao' s glance. After dinner Miss Pao and Miss Su were unusually intimate, going about ann in arm and never leaving each other' s company for an instant. He followed them lamely onto the deck. As he watched them talk and laugh without letting him squeeze a word in edgewise, he felt silly and humiliated; he was like a beggar who, after running after a rickshaw for some distance without getting a cent, finally has to stop but is reluctant to give up. Looking at her watch, Miss Pao said, "I'm going down to sleep. The ship will dock before dawn tomorrow so we won' t be able to sleep well in the morning. If I don't go to bed early, I' 11 be all tired out and will look a wreck when I go ashore tomorrow. "Miss Su said, "You're so concerned about your looks. Are you afraid Mr. Li won't love you? If you look a little weary, it' 11 make him dote on you so much more!" Miss Pao said, " Is that the voice of experience? Just think. Tomorrow I' II be home. I'm so excited I am afraid I won't be able to fall asleep. Miss Su, let ' s go on down. We can lie down in the cabin and talk more comfortably. " With a nod to Fang they went down. He burned with such rage inside that it seemed enough to set the end of his cigarette aglow. He could not understand why Miss Pao had suddenly changed her attitude. So was their relationship to end just like that? When he was at the University of Berlin, he had heard the lecture on Eros by Ed Spranger, a professor well known in Japan, and so he understood that love and sexual desire are twins which go together but are different. Sexual desire is not the basis for love, and love is not the sublimation of sexual desire. He had also read manual on love and other such books and knew the difference between physical and spiritual love. With Miss Pao it wasn't a matter of heart or soul. She hadn't had any change of heart, since she didn't have a heart. It was only a matter of flesh changing its flavor over time. At any rate, he hadn't suffered any loss and may even have had the better of it, so there should be no cause for complaint. He tried to console himself with these clever phrases and careful calculations, but disappointment, frustrated lust, and wounded pride all refused to settle down, like the doll which always rights itself when pushed over and even wobbles about more vigorously. At the crack of dawn the next day, the ship reduced its speed and the sound of its engines altered rhythm. Fang's cabinmate had already packed his things, while Fang lay in bed, thinking that since he and Miss Pao would never meet again, he would see her off with due courtesy, no matter what. Ah Liu suddenly entered with a woeful look and asked for a tip. "Why do you want money now?" asked Fang angrily. "It' 11 be several days before we reach Shanghai. " Ah Liu explained in a hoarse voice that Mr. Sun and the others •
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playing mahjong had been too noisy and had been caught by the French who had raised cain. He had lost his job and in a little while would have to pack his bedding and get off the boat. Fang secretly rejoiced at this piece of good fortune, then sent Ah Liu off with a tip. During breakfast those disembarking were in low spirits. Mrs. Sun's eyes were red and swollen and the corners seemed saturated with tears; they were like the dew on flower petals on a summer morning, and the slightest touch of the finger would cause them to drop. Miss Pao noticed there was a new waiter on duty and asked where Ah Liu had gone, but no one answered her. Fang asked Miss Pao, "You have a lot of luggage. Would you like me to help you off the ship?" In a distant tone of voice she answered, "Thank you. There's no need for you to bother. Mr. Li is coming aboard to meet me. " Miss Su said, "You can introduce Mr. Fang to Mr. Li." Fang wished he could have crushed every bone in Miss Su' s thin body to lime powder. Miss Pao ignored Miss Su and, after drinking a glass of milk, rose hurriedly, saying she still hadn ' t finished packing. Heedless of everyone's jesting remarks, Fang put down his glass and followed her. Miss Pao didn' t even glance around, and when he called her name, she said impatiently, "I'm busy. I don't have time to talk with you." He did not quite know how to show his anger. just at that moment Ah Liu appeared like a ghost and asked Miss Pao for a tip. Miss Pao' s eyes exploded with sparks as she said, "I tipped you yesterday for waiting on the table. What other tip do you want? You don't take care of my cabin." Ah Liu silently reached his hand into his pocket and after a long time pulled out a hairpin. It was one of those Miss Pao had flung away the other day. While sweeping the floor he had found only one of the three. At first Fang wanted to scold Ah Liu, but seeing how seriously Ah Liu had pulled out this magical object, he couldn't help laughing. "You think it's funny?" Miss Pao snapped. "If you think it's so funny, you give him some money. I don't have a cent!" And with that she turned and strode off. Afraid that a disgruntled Ah Liu might run his mouth off to Dr. Li, Fang gave Ah Liu some more money, charging it up to his bad luck. Fang then went on deck by himself and watched disconsolately as the ship drew up to the Kowloon wharf. Other disembarking passengers, both Chinese and nonChinese, also came up. He hid himself in a corner, not wishing to see Miss Pao. On the wharf, policemen, porters, and hotel agents who had come to greet passengers were clamoring noisily; a group of people were waving handkerchiefs at the ship or gesticulating. He was sure Dr. Li was among them and wanted a closer look at him. Finally, the gangplank was lowered, and after the immigration procedures were completed, friends of departing
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passengers swarmed aboard. Miss Pao rushed into the arms of a balding, dark, pudgy man in big glasses. So this was the fiance he was supposed to resemble! He looked like that? Well, of all the insults! Now he understood everything. That remark of hers was nothing but a "come-on." Up to this time he had been quite pleased with himself, thinking she had taken a liking to him. Who would have thought that having been tricked and made use of by her, he was even being secretly ridiculed by her. What was there to say except that adage, which was so old it had grown a long white beard and so stale it was moldy: "Women are the most dreadful of all!" As he was leaning against the railing and thus lost in thought, Miss Su' s soft voice unexpectedly came from behind him, "Are you staying on board daydreaming, Mr. Fang? Somebody has gone and left you! You have no one to keep you company!" He turned around and saw Miss Su dressed with elegance and charm. Without knowing what possessed him, he said, " I ' d like to keep you company, but I'm afraid I haven't the good fortune or the qualifications!" Having made this rash remark, he braced himself for a polite rebuff. A spot of red appeared on Miss Su' s cheeks beneath her lightly applied rouge, spreading out like oil stains on a piece of paper, covering her face in an instant and • making her look bewitchingly bashful. As if barely able to raise her eyelids, she said, "Who, me? I don't think I'm important enough!" Spreading out his hands, he said, "] ust as I said, you wouldn't give me the honor. " "I want to find a hairdresser to have my hair washed. Would you like to go with me?" she said. "Splendid! " he said. "I was just about to go get a haircut. When that's taken care of, we can take a ferry to Hong Kong and go up to the Peak to have some fun. When we come down, I'll take you to lunch. After lunch we can have tea at Repulse Bay and in the evening see a movie. How's that?" With a smile she answered, "Mr. Fang, you ' ve really thought of everything! You've planned for the whole day. " She didn' t know Fang had only passed through Hong Kong once on his way abroad and couldn' t even remember the directions. Twenty minutes later, Ah Liu took his bag of clothes to the dining hall to await the French supervisor to clear him for going ashore. Through the porthole he caught a glimpse of Fang Hung-chien behind Miss Su, descending the gangplank with his hand around her waist. He couldn't repress a feeling of surprise and admiration as well as scorn. Unable to express these complicated feelings in words, he spat a mouthful of thick saliva into the spittoon with a loud "Tsui!"
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2 IT IS SAID that "girl friend" is the scientific term for sweetheart, making it sound more dignified, just as the biological name for rose is " "rosaceae dicotyledonous," or the legal term for divorcing one' s wife is "negotiated separation by consent." Only after Fang Hung-chien had escorted Miss Su around Hong Kong for a couple of days did he realize that a girl friend and a sweetheart were actually two completely different things. Miss Su was the ideal girl friend, with the brains, the status, the poise, and looks of a girl of good family. Going to restaurants and theaters with her was no cause for disgrace. Though they were quite close, he was confident his friendship with her would develop no further. Like two parallel lines, no matter how close they are, or how long they are extended, they will never join together. Only once during that moment before they had gone ashore at Kowloon and he saw her blush had his heart suddenly gone limp and lost the power to beat. Afterwards there was no recurrence of that feeling. In many ways, she had a very childish temperament, he discovered. For instance, she could be mischievous and she could play dumb, traits he had never expected of her. Yet for some reason, he always felt this "little-girlishness" did not quite suit her. It had nothing to do with her age; she wasn't much older than Miss Pao. Besides, in the presence of the man she loves, every woman has the amazing power of rejuvenation. One could only say that it was out of character: For example, we think it's funny to watch a kitten go around in circles chasing its tail, but when a puppy follows suit and turns hectically around after that stubby tail, then it isn't funny any more. When the other students on board saw that Miss Pao had no sooner gone than Little Fang took up with Miss Su, they teased him unmercifully. Miss Su, however, was very generous to him. During the five or six days before the ship reached Shanghai, she didn ' t once mention Miss Pao and became much warmer toward the others. Though Fang never spoke with her on intimate terms and never held her hand except for helping her up and down the gang-plank when they got on and off the ship, her occasional gestures made it seem as though their relationship went far beyond the stages of proposal, engagement, or newlyweds. Her nonchalance made him ' apprehensive, giving him the feeling it was a demonstration of confidence secured by love, just as the sea stays calm after a storm while underneath its
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tranquil surface lies the power to rise up in a rushing torrent. After the ship left Hong Kong, he and Miss Su were on deck eating the fruit they had bought there. Patiently tearing off the skin of a juicy peach, he remarked, "Why aren't peaches made like bananas? It'd be so much easier to peel them! Or else simply like apples. A few wipes with a handkerchief and you can eat them, peel and all. " She peeled and ate a few lichees; then, before eating anything else, she offered to peel the peach for him. He wouldn't agree under any circumstances. After he ate the peach, telltale marks were left on his cheeks and his hands. She looked at him and laughed. Afraid the peach juice would stain his trousers, he stuck his little finger into his pocket to hook his handkerchief. After two attempts, he managed to pull it out and was wiping his hands when she, in a voice full of alarm and disgust, cried out, "Oh! How did you get your handkerchief so dirty! How could you'? Hey! You can't wipe your mouth with that thing. Here, take mine. Go ahead and take mtine. I hate being refused." Reddening, he took her handkerchief and lightly dabbed at his mouth, saying, "I bought a dozen new handkerchiefs before I came on board, but the laundry man lost half of them. Since these little things are so easily lost and it takes so long to get them washed, I thought I ' d wash them myself. In the last couple of days when we were ashore, I didn't have time so all my handkerchiefs are dirty. I ' ll go wash them after a while. Let me wash this one of yours for you before I return it. " "Who wants you to wash it?" she said. "You won't get it clean anyway! It looks to me as if your handkerchief wasn' t ever clean in the first place. Those grease spots are probably souvenirs accumulated all the way from Marseilles. I just wonder how you washed them." At this she giggled. Shortly afterwards they went below. Picking out one of her handkerchiefs and giving it to him, she said, "Use this one for the time being and give me yours to wash. "Alarmed , he said again and again , "You can' t do that!"Puckering her lips, she replied, "You really are being silly! Is it such a big deal? Give them to me. "Left with no choice, he returned to his cabin and took out a bunch of wrinkled handkerchiefs. In an apologetic tone, he said, "I can wash them myself! They are very dirty. You' ll hate them when you see them. " She grabbed them and shook her head. "How did you ev.er get so sloppy? Did you use them for wiping apples?" This incident left him fearful and uneasy for the rest of the day. He thanked her again and again, only to have her call him "Granny. "The next day he moved a lounge chair for her and the strain popped two buttons from his shirt. She jokingly called him "Little Fatso" and asked him to change his shirt later and let her sew on the buttons. His protests were in vain. Whatever she said must be. He just had to submit
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to her benevolent dictatorship. The whole situation with Miss Su made him feel uneasy. Washing handkerchiefs, mending socks, and sewing on buttons these were the little chores a wife performed for her husband. On what basis was he enjoying these privileges? Enjoying a husband's privileges meant by definition that he must be her husband, for otherwise why was she willing to perform these duties. Was there anything in what he had said or done that could make her mistake him for her husband? When he started thinking about all that, he shuddered in horror. If the engagement ring were a symbol of the trap one had fallen into, button-sewing was likewise an omen of being tied down. He had better watch out! Fortunately they would be arriving in Shanghai in a day or two. After that there would be no more chance for them to be so close as this, so the dangers would decrease. But during those one or two days, whenever he was with her, he'd either be afraid of suddenly tearing a hole in his sock or worried a button somewhere would come loose. He knew that her services were not to be taken casually; every time she sewed on a button or mended a hole, the moral obligation to. propose to her increased by one point. Sino-Japanese relations were worsening every day, and the news from the ship's radio made everyone nervous. On the afternoon of August the ninth, the ship reached Shanghai. Fortunately the war had not yet erupted. Miss Su gave Fang Hung-chien her address and asked him to come see her. Readily he promised that after going home to see his parents, he would certainly come to Shanghai to visit her. Miss Su' s elder brother came on board to meet her, and before Fang could hide, she introduced her brother to him. After sizing him up a moment, her brother warmly shook hands with him and said, "I ' ve heard about you for a long time." Hell! thought Fang Hung-chien. An introduction like that may as well be her family representative' s official approval of me as candidate for son-in-law! At the same time he wondered why her brother had said," I've heard about you for a long time. " She must have often mentioned him to her family, a fact which rather pleased him. He then left the Su brother and sister and went to have his luggage inspected. After walking a few steps he turned his head and saw Miss Su ' s brother smiling at Miss Su, who blushed half in pleasure and half in anger. Thinking they must be talking about him, he felt a little embarrassed. Soon he ran into his brother Fang P' eng-t' u, who had gone looking for him in second class. Meanwhile Miss Su knew someone in customs, so she breezed through customs without having her luggage inspected. While Hung-chien and his brother were still waiting for inspection, she came over especially to shake hands with him and urged him repeatedly to come see her. When his brother • P' eng-t' u asked him who she was, he replied her name was Su. "Oh, the one
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with a French doctorate," said his brother. " I read about her in the newspaper. " Fang Hung-chien laughed, scornful of women ' s vanity. He hurriedly sorted out the luggage that had been inspected, then called a taxi; he was to spend the night at Manager Chou's and return home the next day. P' eng-t' u was a clerk in a bank. Because the war rumors had become stronger in the last few days, he had been kept busy moving the bank's valuables from one place to another and he got off the taxi along the way. However, before he took off, Hung-chien had told him to send a telegram home indicating the train he would be taking the next day. Considering that a needless expense; P' eng-t' u merely made a long distance telephone call instead. Fang Hung-chien 's in-laws were overjoyed at seeing him. He gave his father-in-law a rattan cane with an ivory handle purchased in Ceylon; his mother -in -law, an avid mahjong player and a Buddhist, a French handbag and two Ceylonese Buddhist religious books; and his fifteen- year-old brotherin-law, a German fountain pen. His mother-in-law, then remembering her daughter who had died five years ago, said sadly with tears in her eyes, "If Shu-ying were alive today, how happy she'd be to have you come back from abroad with a Ph.D.!" Choking back emotion, his father-in-law said that his wife was being silly and that she should not say things like that on such a happy day. Fang ' s face was grave and sorrow- ridden; inwardly he felt ashamed, for during the last four years he had never once thought of his fiancee. Her large photograph, which his father-in-law gave him as a memento when he went abroad, had been stowed away in the bottom of a trunk, and he didn' t know whether its color had faded or not and wanted very much to atone for his sins and make up for his wrongdoings. In any case he would be taking the 11 : 30express train the next morning, and he' d have time to go to the International Public Cemetery. Thus he said, "I am thinking of visiting Shu-ying' s grave the first thing tomorrow morning." With that Mr. and Mrs. Chou became even more fond of him. Mrs. Chou showed him his room for the night, which was none other than Shu-ying' sold room. On the dressing table were two large photographs placed side by side: one of Shuying; the other, an enlarged picture of himself in a doctoral robe. At the sight of them, he felt dazed, as though he had died along with Shu-ying. It was a gloomy, dismal feeling, like that of the departed soul returning after death. During dinner when Manager Chou learned that Fang still hadn't found a job for the rest of the year, he reassured his son-in-law, "That's no problem. I think you should try to find a job in Shanghai or Nanking. The situation in Peking is very critical, so you mustn't go there. Go home for a couple of weeks, then come back and stay here. I' 11 put you on the payroll at the bank. You can drop in during the day and in the evening tutor my son while looking •
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for a job. How' s that? You needn' t take your luggage with you. In this heat, you ' 11 have to wear Chinese clothes when you go home anyway. " Genuinely grateful, Fang thanked his father-in-law. His mother-in-law brought up the subject of marriage, asking him if he had a girl friend. He quickly said no. His father-in-law said, "I knew you wouldn't. Your father gave you a good upbringing. You ' re a gentleman and not the type to get mixed up with any free courtship. Free courtship never comes to a good end." "Hung-chien is such a simple-hearted soul; he won't be able to find a girl for himself. Let me watch out and make a match for him," said his mother-in-law. "There you go again," said his father-in-law. "As if his own father and mother couldn't take care of him. We mustn't interfere. " "Hung-chien went abroad at our expense," argued his mother-in-law. "He certainly can't push us aside when he gets married. Would you, Hungchien? Your future wife must certainly be my adopted daughter. And let me make this perfectly clear. Once you have new relatives, don' t forget the old ones. I've seen too many such ungrateful people." Fang could only smile resignedly and say, "llin' t worry, I'd never do that," while inwardly to the image of Miss Su, he said, Hear that? You 'Want to take this 'WOmO.n as )OUr adopted rrwther? Lucky for )QU I don't UJant to marry YJU. As though picking up his inner thoughts, his little brother-in-law asked, "Hung-chien, there's a returned student named Su. lli you know her?"He was so flabberga<>ted that he nearly dropped his rice bowl. American behavioral psy:hologists can prove that " thoughts are a soundless language , " he thought. What are this kid ' s jugears made of? How did he overhear all my silent, private remarks! Before he could answer, his father-in-law said, "Oh, yes! I forgot. Hsiao-ch' eng, go get that Wang write up a news newspaper. When I got your picture I had Chief item for the newspaper. I know you don't care to show off, but this is something to be proud of. You don't have to hide it." When remarks were added, Fang paled. "That's right," said his mother-in-law. "After putting up so much money, why not get a little honor!" Fang's face had already turned red with shame and indignation. By the . time his brother-in-law brought the newspaper and he had glanced at it, the redness had passed from the back of his ears and the nape of his neck down his spine to his very heels. It was an early July Shanghai newspaper, with two small photographs in the educational news column. The plates were as blurry as the picture of a ghost taken at a divining altar. The caption under the first picture read, "Wen-wan, daughter of Political Councilor Su Hung-yeh, is returning home with a Ph. D. from Lyons." The caption under the second picture was twice as long": Fang Hung-chien, the gifted son-in-law of Chou
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Hou-ch ' ing, a prominent local businessman and general manager of the Golden Touch Bank, recently received his doctorate of philosophy from Carleton University in Germany after pursuing advanced study abroad under Mr. Chou's sponsorship at the Universities of London, Paris, and Berlin in political science, economics, history, and sociology, in which he made excellent grades and ranked at the top of his class. He will be touring several countries before returning home in the fall. It is said that many major organizations are vying for him with job offers." He wished he could have ripped the paper in two and seized what's -his-name, Chief-secretary Wang, by the throat, just to see how many more of those sickening cliches of resume writing could still be wrung out of him. No wonder Miss Su' s brother had said, "I've heard about you for a long time. " No wonder when his brother P' eng -t' u heard him say her name was Su, his brother knew she had a Ph. D. from abroad. And at the time he had even laughed at Miss Su for being so conventional! The item about himself was in such supreme bad taste that the stench was enough to make the reader hold his nose. Besides, Miss Su was a real Ph. D. What was he supposed to be? While on the ship he had never discussed degrees with her, but when she saw this item, she would conclude that he was a deceitful braggart. Whoever heard of a Carleton University in Germany? In his letter to his father-in-law he hinted vaguely that he had received a degree. But because the letter had been posted from Germany, his father had assumed it was a German university. When those who knew about such things heard of it, they'd laugh their heads off! He had become a fraud and would never be able to face people again! Noticing how her son-in-law kept holding the paper before his face, Mrs. Chou said to her husband with a smile, "See how pleased Hung-chien is. He's read the item several times and still can't put it down. " Their son Hsiao-ch ' eng said mischievously, "Hung-chien is getting a close look at that Su Wen-wan. He's thinking of marrying her to take Shuying ' s place. " Fang couldn't help from blurting out. "Don't talk nonsense!" and barely managed to stop himself from flinging the paper to the floor. Though he prevented his anger from showing on his face, his voice was hoarse. When the Chous saw his unsmiling countenance and his pale face, they were a little bewildered. Then suddenly exchanging glances with each other as though they understood their son-in-law's state of mind, they scolded their son Hsiao-ch ' eng in unison, "You deserve a spanking. Who told you to interrupt when adults are talking? Your brother Hung-chien just came back today. Of course, he' s unhappy at the thoughts of your sister. Your joking can go too far. From now on, you're to keep your mouth shut. Hung-chien,
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we know you have a kindly nature. Pay no attention to the child's nonsense." Fang Hung-chien again blushed crimson. Puffing out his cheeks, Hsiao-ch' eng thought resentfully, Don ' t you put on ! If you were any good, you ' d never get married for the rest of your life. I don ' t care about your pen. You can just take it back. When Fang returned to his room, he discovered Shu-ying' s picture was missing from the table. He thought probably his mother-in-law, afraid that he'd be reminded of Shu-ying by the picture and become too grief-stricken, had come especially to remove it. It had been only six or seven hours since he left the ship, yet everything that had happened there seemed to belong to another world. All his excitement about going ashore having evaporated, he felt small and weak, thinking a job would be hard to find and romance difficult to achieve. As he had pictured it, returning home after study abroad was like water on the ground turning to vapor and rising to the sky, then changing again to rain and returning to rain and returning to the earth, while the whole world looked on and talked about it. His return home from thousands of miles away hadn't raise<;l. a single fleck of froth on the sea of his fellow countrymen. Now, thanks to all the blather spewing out of Chiefsecretary Wang's pen, he had been blown up into a big soap bubble, bright and colorful while it lasted but gone at a single jab. Leaning against the window screen he gazed outside. The stars filling the sky were dense and busy. They remained completely still, yet watching them made him think the sky was bustling noisily. The crescent moon seemingly resembled a girl that is not yet full-grown but already able to face the world unabashed. Its light and contours were fresh and sharp, gradually standing out against the night setting. The tiny insects in the garden grass hummed and buzzed, engaged in a nocturnal conversation. From somewhere a pack of frogs croaked hoarsely, their mouths, lips, throats, and tongues working in unison as though the sound waves were being stewed over a fire until they bubbled:" Brekekey C<Jky C<Jky, " like the chorus in Aristophanes' comedies, or of Yale University' s cheerleaders. A few fireflies gracefully passed to and fro, not as if flying but as though floating in the dense atmosphere. A dark area beyond the reach of moonlight was suddenly lit up by a firefly's speck of light, like a tiny greenish eye in the summer night. This was the scene familiar to him before going abroad; but now when he saw it, his heart suddenly contracted in pain, his eyes smarted on the verge of tears, and then he understood life' s beauty and goodness and the joy of coming home. Such things as the item in the Shanghai newspaper were no more worth troubling over than the hum of insects outside the screen. He sighed comfortably, then yawned broadly. When he stepped off the train at his home district station, his father, his •
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youngest brother Feng-i, as well as seven or eight uncles, cousins, and friends of his father were all there on the platform to meet him. He was quite dismayed, and greeting each in turn said, "On such a hot day as this, I've really imposed on you too much." And observing how his father's beard had grayed, he said, "Papa, you shouldn' t have come! " His father, Fang Tung-weng, handed him his folding fan, saying, "You people in Western suits won't need this antique, but it's better than fanning yourself with a straw hat." When he saw his son had traveled second class, he praised him. "Such a fine lad! He came back on the boat in second class, so I thought for sure he' d go first class on the train, but still he went second class. He hasn't become haughty and proud and changed his true nature. He already knows how to conduct himself." Everyone echoed his praise. They had jostled their way out of the ticket gate when suddenly a man wearing blue glasses and a Western suit caught hold of Fang Hung-chien and said, "Hold it, please! We're taking a picture." Bewildered, Hung-chien was just about to ask him what for, when he heard the click of a camera, and the man in blue glasses let go of his arm. There facing Hung-chien was another man pointing a camera at him. Blue Glasses pulled out his card, saying, "Did you return to China yesterday, Dr. Fang?" The man with the camera came up and he too pulled out his card. Hung-chien saw at a glance that they were reporters from two local newspapers in the district. The reporters both said, "You must be tired from your journey today, Dr. Fang. We' ll come to your residence tomorrow morning to learn more from you. " They then turned to pay their compliments to Mr. Fang and accompanied the Fangs and others out of the station. Feng-i said laughingly to Hung-chien, "You' ve become a celebrity in the district. "Though Hung-chien hated the way the reporters kept calling him " Dr. Fang," which grated on his ears, seeing people so respectfully regard him as a man of importance made him swell up in mind and body and feel truly great. Now realizing the advantage of living in a small town, he only wished he had put on a better suit and carried a cane. With the big fan waving about in his hand and his face bathed in sweat, the picture they had taken could not possibly turn out very well. When he got home and saw his mother and two sisters-in-law, he distributed the gifts he had brought back. His mother said with a smile, "It takes going abroad to learn such thoughtfulness. He even knows how to buy things for women. " His father said, "P' eng-t' u mentioned a Miss Su over the phone yesterday. What's that all about?" "It's just someone who was on the same boat," said Hung-chien crossly. "There's nothing to it. P' eng - t' u he likes to talk a lot. " He was about to
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upbraid his brother for spreading rumors, but caught himself when he saw P ' eng-t ' u ' s w1"fe was present. His father said, "We ' 11 have to work on your marriage. Both of your brothers were married long ago and have children. Matchmakers have already suggested several prospects, but you don' t need disgusting old creatures like us to make decisions for you. As for Su Hung-yeh, he does have a bit of reputation, and apparently held a few government posts in his day "Hungchien thought to himself, Why do charming girls all have fathers? She can be hidden away all by herself in one's heart to cuddle, but when her father, uncle and brother are dragged along with her, the girl stops being so cute and carefree and it ' s not so easy to conceal her away in your heart anymore. Her charm has been mixed in with the dregs. Some people talk about marriage as though it were homosexual love. It ' s not the girl they fancy, but her old man or her elder brother they admire. "I don' t approve," said his mother. "It' s no good to marry an official' s daughter. She'll want you to wait on her instead of waiting on you. Besides, a daughter-in-law should come from the same village. Girls from other districts are always a bit unsuited in temperament. You won't be happy with her. This Miss Su is a returned student, so she couldn't be very young. " The faces of his two sisters-in-law, who had never graduated from high school and who had been born and raised in that district, both bore an expression of agreement. His father remarked, "She's not only studied abroad but has a Ph.D. I'm afraid Hung-chien couldn't manage her," as though Miss Su were some sort of hard object like a brick which would take the stomach of an ostrich or turkey to digest. "Our Hung-chien has a Ph. D. , too," protested his mother. "He's not inferior to her, so why isn't he a match for her?" Stroking his beard, his father said with a smile, "Hung-chien, that's something your mother just couldn't understand. Women who've done a little book learning are the hardest of all to handle. The man has to be a step above her, not an equal. That's why a college graduate should marry a high school graduate, and a returned student should marry a college graduate. As for a girl who has studied abroad and received a Ph. D. , no one but a foreigner would dare marry her. Otherwise, the man would have to have two doctorates at least. I'm not mistaken about that, am I, Hung-chien? It's the same idea as ' Marry a daughter into a greater family than your own, but take a wife from a lesser family that your own. ' " His mother said, "Of the girls suggested by the go-betweens, the Hsus' second daughter is the best. I' 11 show you her picture later. "
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The matter is taking a serious turn, thought Hung-chien. All his life he had detested those modem girls from small towns with outdated fashions and a provincial cosmopolitanism. They were just like the first Western suit made by a Chinese tailor with everything copied from a foreigner's old clothes used as a model down to the two square patches on the sleeves and trouser legs. No need to protest now. In a few days he would make his getaway to Shanghai. His father also said that there would be many receptions given in his honor, and with the weather so hot, he should be careful not to stuff himself. He must make courtesy calls to all family elders, for which his father would let him take his rickshaw. When the weather cooled off a little, his father would take him to perform the rites at his grandfather's grave. His mother said she would have the tailor come the next day to fit him for a silk gown and pants, and for the time being his brother Feng-i had two gowns and could lend him one to wear when he went visiting. For dinner that evening, his mother herself prepared fried shredded eel, chicken wings in soy sauce, stewed chicken with melon, and shrimps cooked in wine his favorite local dishes. She picked out the best pieces for his bowl, saying, "How terrible it must have been for you, living abroad for four years with nothing to eat! "Everyone laughed and said she was at it again. If a person ate nothing abroad, how could Hung-chien keep from starving to death? She said, "I can' t understand how those foreign devils stay alive! All that bread and milk. I couldn't eat them if they gave them to me free." Hung-chien suddenly felt that in this family atmosphere the war was something unbelievable, just as no one can think of ghosts in broad daylight. His parents' hopes and plans left no room for any unforeseen circumstances. Seeing them thus so firmly in control of the future, he too took heart and thought that maybe the situation in Shanghai would be eased, and there would be no outbreak of hostilities. And if there were , they could be brushed aside and ignored . When Fang Hung-chien rose from bed the next day, the two reporters had already arrived. When he saw the newspaper they had brought along with the item, "Dr. Fang Returns Home," and the full-length picture taken the day before beside it, he felt so ashamed he couldn' t bear to look at it. Blue Galsses' hand gripping his right shoulder showed clearly in the picture, added to which, the side view of his own startled expression made it look exactly like a photograph of someone catching a thief. Blue Galsses, a man of great learning, said he had long heard that Carleton University was the most famous institution of higher learning in the entire world, on a par with Tsing-hua University. The reporter carrying the camera asked Hung-chien what observations he had on the world situation and whether a Sino-Japanese war would break out. Fang Hung-chien finally managed to send them on their
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way, though not before he had written two inscriptions: "The Mouthpiece of the People," for Blue Glasses' newspaper, and "The Mirror of Truth," for Camera' s newspaper. Just as Hung-chien was about to go out visiting, his father' s old friend, Principal Li.i of the district's provincial high school, came to invite his father, him, and his brother to breakfast the next morning at a teahouse and later asked him to give a lecture to the summer school students on "A Reevaluation of the Influences of Western Civilization on Chinese History. " Hung-chien dreaded giving lectures and was going to beg off on some pretext. Then to his chagrin his father readily accepted the invitation for him. He could only stifle a snort. In such hot weather, to have to put on a long gown and vest , speak rubbish and stink with sweat , if it isn ' t a living hell, what is it? he thought. Educators sure have a different mentality from ordinary people ! Mr. Fang, hoping his son would win praises for his "scholarly family background, " dug out from a chest several volumes of stringbound Chinese texts, such as Wen-tzu t' ang-chi, Kuei-ssu lei-kao, Ch' iching lou-chi , and T ' an-ying lu , instructing Hung-chien to look through them carefully for his lecture material. Hung-chien read all afternoon with deep interest, greatly broadening his knowledge. He learned that the Chinese were square and honest by nature, so they said the sky was square. Foreigners were roundabout and cunning and therefore maintained that the earth was round; the heart of the Chinese was located in the center, while a Westerner's heart tilted slightly to the left. The opium imported from the West was poisonous and should be banned. The nature of the soil in China was mild, therefore opium produced there would not be addictive. Syphilis, that is, smallpox, came from the West, and so on. Such a pity that while these items of infmmation were all very interesting, they could not be used in the lecture. He would have to read something else. That day after returning home from dinner at his uncle's house with his eyes blurred from drink, he flipped through four or five history textbooks and worked up a draft of over one thousand words with a couple of jokes inserted. This kind of preparation did not tax his brains any, though he did lose some blood to the mosquitoes. The next morning at the teahouse, after he had the usual soup noodlefourth snack-dish to be served, Principal Li.i paid the bill and urged Hungchien to start off. Each hurriedly took his long gown from the waiter and departed. Feng-i stayed with Mr. Fang for a cup of tea. The school auditorium was already filled with students over two hundred boys and grils. Accompanied to the stage by Principal Lii, Fang Hung-chien felt his whole body tingle and itch from having so many eyes focused on him, and walking became difficult. After he had seated himself on the stage, the haze before his
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eyes lifted, and he noticed that those sitting in the front row seemed to be the faculty. At the recording secretary' s desk set close to the stage was a girl student, the waves of whose new permanent were so stiff that they seemed to have been painted on. Everyone in the auditorium was whispering back and forth, appraising him with great curiosity. He silently enjoined his cheeks, Don' t blush! You mustn ' t turn red! He regretted having removed his sunglasses when he entered. With two pieces of black glass in front of his eyes, it would have seemed as though he too were hidden in heavy darkness, and he would have felt less embarrassed. Principal Lti was already delivering his introduction. Hung-chien hastily reached into the pocket of his gown to feel around for his lecture notes only to find they were missing. He broke out in a nervous sweat. Oh, no! he thought. How could I have lost something so important? When I left the house I distinctly remember putting them into the pocket of my gown. Except for a few opening sentences, he, in his fright, had forgotten the rest of his speech. He searched his memory for all he was worth, but it was like trying to hold water in a sieve. Once he grew panicky, he couldn't focus his attention. His threads of thought would get knotted up, then come loose. A few vague facts remained, but it was like waiting fro a person in a busy place. You catch a glimpse of someone in the crowd who looks like him, only to find he' s gone when you go over to get him. 1ust as his mind was playing "hide-and-seek," Principal Lti bowed and asked him to speak. This was followed by a round of applause. He had just stood up when he noticed Feng-i rushing into the auditorium, breathless. Seeing that the lecture had already begun, Feng-i found an empty seat and sat down in despair. Hung-chien suddenly realized that as he was leaving the teahouse, he had put on Feng-i' s gown by mistake. Both gowns belonged to Feng-i and were of identical color and material. Such being the case, he'd just have to screw up his courage, brace himself, and spout some nonsense. When the applause had died down, Fang Hung-chien forced a smile and began, "Principal Lu, members of the faculty, and students: Though your applause was well-meaning, it is actually quite unjustified. Applause indicates satisfaction with the speech. Now before I have even begun, you have already applauded with satisfaction. Why should I have to go on? You should all listen to the lecture first, then clap a few times as you wish, letting me leave the stage with dignity. Now that you've clapped at the start, if my lecture can't live up to such enthusiastic applause, it'll put me in the embarrassing position of having been paid without being able to deliver the goods." The audience roared with laughter. The recording secretary was also smiling as her pen flew across the paper. Fang Hung-chien hesitated. What should he say next? He still remembered a few of the points and views put forth in the string-bound
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texts, but as for the history textbooks he had skimmed through after dinner, there wasn't even a trace left. Those confounded textbooks ! It ' s amazing that I could have learned all that stuff for examinations when I was a student! Ah, now I have it! At least it's better than nothing. "As for the influence of Western civilization on Chinese history, you can find that in any history textbook. There's no need for me to repeat it. You all know that the first time China officially came in contact with European thought was in the middle of the Ming dynasty [ 1368 1644]. For this reason Catho!ics always refer to this period as the Chinese Renaissance. Actually, the science brought by the Catholic priests of the Ming dynasty is now out of date, while the religion they brought has never been up to date. In the last several hundred years of overseas communication, there are only two items from the West which have been lasting in Chinese society as a whole. One is opium, and the other is syphilis. These are what the Ming dynasty assimilated of Western civilization. " Most of the audience laughed, a small number gasped in astonishment, and a few of the teachers scowled. The recording-secretary' s face flushed crimson, and her pen stopped, as if by hearing Fang Hungchien's last remark her virgin ears had lost their chastity in front of the audience. Principal Lti uttered a warning cough behind Hung-chien. By this time Fang Hung-chien was just like a man getting out of bed on a cold winter morning. Having managed after the greatest of efforts to hop from the covers, he just has to bear the cold long enough to dress. There was no backing out now. "Opium was originally called 'foreign tobacco' - " Hung-chien noticed one of the teachers, who seemed to be an old instructor of Chinese, fanning himself and shaking his head, and he quickly added, "'Foreign' refers, of course, to the ' Western Ocean' of ' Cheng Ho' s Voyages to the Western Ocean,' for according to the Ta-Ming hui-tien, opium was an article of tribute from Siam and Java. But in the earliest literary work in Europe, Homer's Odyssey" the old man's bald pate seemed to be overwheemed by that last foreign word "there appears what is said to be this very thing. As for syphilis" -Principal Lu coughed several times in succession "it is without doubt an imported commodity from the West. Schopenhauer has said that syphilitic sores were the most distinctive feature of modern European civilization. If you have not had the opportunity to read the original, you can very easily read Hsii Chih-mo' s translation of the French novel Candide to learn something about the origins of syphilis. The disease was brought by Westerners after the Cheng-te period of the Ming dynasty. The ill effects of these two things were of course unlimited, but, nonetheless, one cannot dismiss them out of hand. Opium inspired many works of literature. Whereas ancient poets sought inspiration from wine, modern European and American •
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poets all find inspiration in opium. Syphilis transmits idiocy, insanity, and deformity by heredity, but it is also said that it is capable of stimulating genius. For example "At this point Principal Lti coughed himself hoarse. When Hung-chien had finished speaking, and while the clapping in the audience was still going strong, Principal Lti, with a long face and a hoarse voice, said a few words of thanks: "Today we have had the honor of hearing Dr. Fang tell us several novel views. We have found it highly interesting. Dr. Fang is the son of an old friend of mine. I watched him grow up and I know how much he enjoys telling jokes. It is very hot today, so he has intentionally made his lecture humorous. I hope in the future we will have the opportunity to hear his earnest and solemn discourse. But I'd like to tell Dr. Fang that our school library is filled with the spirit of the New Life Movement. It certainly has no French novels "With this he struck the air with his hand. Hungchien was too embarrassed even to look at the audience. Before the day was over many people had learned that Fang's son, just returned from study abroad, publicly advocated smoking opium and visiting brothels. When this came to Mr. Fang' s ears, he did not realize it was the result of his having instructed his son to look through the string-bound texts. Though he did not approve of what his son said, he could not very well get angry over it. The fighting at W usung on August 13, 1937, occurred soon afterwards and Fang Hung-chien' s prank was mentioned no more. Those interested in making him their son-in-law, however, could not forget his lecture, and they assumed he had led a life of profligacy while abroad. If the went to the Matchmaker's Temple at West Lake to draw lots before the idols, they would probably end up with tally number four, which read, "That this man should have this disease .... "Such a young man would never do as a sonin-law. One after another they deferred discussion of marriage on the grounds that the times were unstable and asked the Fangs for the return of their daughters' pictures and horoscopes. Extremely disheartened by it all, Mrs. Fang could not get the Hstis' second daughter off her mind. Hung-chien, however, was quite unperturbed. Now that fighting had broken out, Mr. Fang, a prominent squire in the village, was in charge of local security matters. Remembering the "January 28th lncident"when the district had not suffered enemy bombing, the inhabitants of the district assumed that this too was nothing important and were not particularly alarn1ed. After he had been home for a week, Fang Hung-chien felt as if he had not left home at all; his four years abroad were like water running over a lotus leaf leaving no trace behind. The people he met after his return were the same ones of four years ago, still doing and saying what they had done and said four years ago. There was not even one person among all his acquaintances who had died off. Only
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his wet nurse, who always used to say she would wait titl he got married and had a son , then come look after him , was now ill and bedridden. As far as he was concerned, he had not missed the village during those four years at all. Not a single tear or sigh could the village fetch from the wandering son upon his return. On the sixth day after the outbreak of the war, when Japanese planes bombed for the first time and destroyed the train station, everyone at last realized that the war had really reached them and many fled with their families to the countryside. Later, the planes kept coming in much the same manner as the peerless beauty whose "one glance could conquer a city and whose second glance could vanquish an empire. " Mr. Chou wired Hung-chien urging him to come to Shanghai as soon as possible before all communications were suspended and he himself was stranded at home. Feeling that under the circumstances his son should leave home and look for job possibilities, Mr. Fang let him go. What happened during the next four months, from the retreat from Shanghai to the fall of Nanking, should be recorded in history, as Friedrich von Logau put it, with a bayonet dipped in the ink of fresh blood upon the paper made from the skin of the enemy. Despondently, Fang Hungchien read dozens of newspapers and listened to just as many radio broadcasts daily. Exhausted hope, as though sifting sand for gold, tried to find some crack in the news in which to revive itself. His brother P' eng-t' u and he guessed that their house had already been destroyed and didn' t know what had happened to their family. At the end of the lunar year, they finally heard some news of them. Mr. Fang's friends and relatives in Shanghai contributed money to help them get out and rented a house for them in the foreign concessions. The family reunited amidst much weeping. Mr. Fang and Feng-i were clamoring to buy shoes and socks. While en route in a small boat, they met two deserting soldiers. They took Mr. Fang's wallet; and as they were about to make off, they forced both father and son to take off their wool socks and cotton shoes and exchange them for their own stinking cotton socks and tattered canvas shoes. The whole Fang family had traveled on empty-handed. Only a sum of two or three thousand dollars in paper currency sewn in Mrs. Fang's padded cotton jacket had gone undetected by the two soldiers. The businessmen living in Shanghai who were from the same village, having long respected Mr. Fang' s reputation, gave him a considerable sum of money so that once again he was able to maintain a household. Seeing how crowded it was in the small house, Hung-chien decided to stay on at the Chous, dropping in on his parents every second or third day to pay his respects. Every time he went home he heard them talk about all the frightening and amusing experiences they had had during their escape. Their narrative and descriptive skills seemed to improve with each retelling, while Hung-chien's attention
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and sympathy decreased slightly after each hearing. Since Mr. Fang had rejected the offers of Japanese collaborators in his home district, he could no longer return home; yet the government had given him no recognition, making him feel that, while he loved his country, his country did not love him. He felt the same resentment as a young widow who, despite maintaining a chaste widowhood, finds no favor with her parents-in-law. Hung-chien was very bored at the Golden Touch Bank, and since there were few opportunities in Shanghai, he considered going into the unoccupied interior as soon as he had a chance. The lunar New Year arrived. The well-to-do in the concessions of Shanghai felt that they had suffered enough alarm for their country. Since the country hadn' t fallen, they found no need to play the part of survivors, and once again started up the usual bustle and activities of the New Year. One day Mrs. Chou told Hung-chien that someone was making a match for him with the daughter of a Mr. Chang with whom Hung-chien and Manager Chou had once sat at the same table at a social gathering. According to Mrs. Chou, the Changs had asked for Hung-chien's horoscope and requested a fortuneteller to match it with Miss Chang's. The forecast for the couple was "A union made in heaven, full of great fortune and prosperity." Hung -chien asked with a smile, "You mean in a cosmopolitan place like Shanghai, people still ask fortunetellers to deteunine a marriage?" Mrs. Chou replied that one could not but believe in fate, and since Mr. Chang had invited him over for dinner, it wouldn't hurt to meet his daughter. Hung-chien, who held to some of the principles typical of the prewar scholar class, remembering that this Mr. Chang was a comprador in an American firm, wanted nothing to do with such a vulgarian . But then he reflected, hadn't he himself, from the time he went abroad until now, been using a philistine's money? At any rate one visit could do no harm. Whether he decided to get married or not depended entirely on whether or not he took a liking to the girl. No one could force him. So he agreed to go for dinner. Mr. Chang was from the coastal area of Chekiang. His given name was Chi-min, but he preferred people to call him Jimmy. For over twenty years he had worked for an American firm, the Stars and Stripes Company, rising from a clerk to become a comprador, and he had amassed a sizable fortune. He had but one daughter and had not spared any expense in her upbringing. She had acquired all the foreign skills and ways that the church schools could teach or instill, and all the foreign hairstyles and makeup that beauty salons and hairdressers could create. She was just eighteen and had not yet graduated from high school, but Mr. And Mrs. Chang, who held to the traditional view of their hometown, thought that a girl was old by the time she was twenty, and if she passed this age still unwed, she could only be 83
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put in a museum of old relics to be viewed with nostalgia. Mrs. Chang was very strict in her choice of a son-in-law, and though many people had proposed matches, none of them had made it. One of these was the son of a well-to-do businessman and a returned student to boot. Mrs. Chang was favorably impressed with him and held high hopes for a marriage, but after one dinner, she never mentioned the matter again. During the meal they began talking about the fact that because of the war the concessions were under a blockade and vegetables were hard to get. Mrs. Chang turned to the son of the well-todo businessman and said, "With so many people in your family, the daily cost for food must be quite high, I should think." He replied that he was not quite sure, but thought it was so much money per day. Mrs. Chang exclaimed, "Then your cook must be both honest and resourceful. Our family isn' t half as large as yours, yet our cook spends the same amount every day!" He was quite pleased at hearing this, but after dinner was over and he had left, Mrs. Chang said, "That family lives on peanuts! They spend so little on food a day! Since my daughter is used to comfort, she couldn't take such hardship!" The question of marriage was dropped at this point. After a few deliberations, the husband and wife decided that they could never rest easy about marrying their precious daughter into another family. It would be far better to adopt a son-in-law into their own. The day Mr. Chang met Hung-chien at the party he mentioned him later at home, saying he found him well qualified: the family background and qualifications were quite good. Furthermore, since he was now already living at the home of his nominal father-in-law without ever having actually become his son-in-law, taking him into the family would be as easy as turning the palm. What made it even better was that since the Fangs has lost so much in the war, they couldn' t put on any of the presumptuous airs of a country squire, and the son-in-law would live submissively at the Changs. In the end, Mrs. Chang wanted Hung-chien to dine with them, so she could take a look at him. Since Mr. Chang had invited him to come early for a chat, Fang Hungchien went over in the afternoon right after work at the bank. Along the way he passed a foreign fur goods store where he saw in the window a Westernstyle fur overcoat. It was on sale at only $400 during New Year's. He had always wanted an overcoat like that but had never dared buy one when he was . studying abroad. In London, for instance, a man who wore such an overcoat but did not own a private car, unless he looked like a ] ewish usurer or a Negro boxer, would be suspected of being a circus performer, or else a pimp who ran a brothel. It was only in Vienna that fur coats were commonly worn, and ready-made fur linings were sold to travelers to line their coats. After returning to China, he had seen many people wearing fur, and now he was
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even more stirred by the display in the window. After some calculations, however, he could only heave a sigh. His $ 100 salary at the bank was already considered handsome and ample spending money, and since his father-in-law was providing both room and board and he didn' t have to pay a cent, how could he ask Mr. Chou for money to buy a luxury item? He had dutifully presented forty of the sixty-odd pounds left after his return home to his father to buy furniture. The rest had been converted into a little over $400. It would hardly do to sink all his money at once into that coat. In a time of national austerity, one had to economize in everything, and since the weather would be wanning up soon, he might as well forget it. When he arrived at the Changs, Mr. Chang gave him a hearty welcome, "Hello , Dr . Fang ! Haven' t seen you for a long time!" Mr. Chang was used to dealing with foreigners and his speech had a special characteristic aps in a foreign firm, the YMCA, the Rotary Club, or other such places, this was nothing unusual he liked to sprinkle his Chinese with meaningless English expressions. It wasn't that he had new ideas, which were difficult to express in Chinese and required the use of English. The English words inlaid in his speech could not thus be compared with the gold teeth inlaid in one's mouth, since gold teeth are not only decorative but functional as well. A better comparison would be with the bits of meat stuck between the teeth they show that one has had a good meal but are otherwise useless. He imitated the American accent down to the slightest inflection, though maybe the nasal sound was a little overdone, sounding more like a Chinese with a cold and a stuffy nose, rather than an American speaking. The way he said " Very well" sounded just like a dog growling "Vurry wul." A pity the Romans never had a chance to hear it, for otherwise the Latin poet Persius would not have been the only one to say that "r" was a nasal in the dog's alphabet ( sonat hie de nare can ina litera). As Mr. Chang shook hands with Hung-chien, he asked him if he had to go downtown every day. When the pleasantries were over, Hung-chien noticed a glass cupboard filled with bowls, jars, and plates and asked, "Do you collect porcelain, Mr. Chang?" "Sure! Have a look-see. " Mr. Chang opened the cupboard and invited Hung-chien to inspect them. Hung-chien picked up a few pieces and noticed they were all marked with such reign periods as "Ch' eng-hua," "Hsiian-te," or "K'ang-hsi." Unable to tell whether they were genuine or fake, he merely said, "These must be quite valuable. " "Sure! Worth quite a lot of money, plenty of dough. Besides, these things aren't like calligraphy or paintings. If you buy calligraphy or paintings which tum out to be fakes, they aren't worth a cent. They just amount to wastepaper. If the porcelain is fake, at least it can hold food. Sometimes I
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invite foreign friends over for dinner and use this big K' ang-hsi 'underglazeblue-and-colored ware' plate for a salad dish . They all think the ancient colors and odor make the food taste a little old time. " Fang Hung-chien said, "I'm sure you have a good eye. You wouldn't ever buy a fake. " Mr. Chang laughed heartily and said, " I don ' t know anything about period designs. I'm too busy to have time to sit down and study it. But I have what d 'you call? iration a hunch when I see something, and a sudden comes to me. Then I buy it and it turns out to be quite OK. Those antique dealers all respect me. I always say to them, 'Don' t try to fool me with fakes. Oh yeah , Mr. Chang here is no sucker . Don' t think you can cheat me! ' " He closed the cupboard and said, "Oh, headache , " then pressed an electric bell to summon the servant. Puzzled, Hung-chien asked quickly, "Aren' t you felling well, Mr. Chang?" Mr. Chang looked at Hung-chien in astonishment and said, "Who's not felling well? You? Me? Why, I feel fine!" "Didn't you say you had a headache?" asked Hung-chien. Mr. Chang roared with laughter. At the same time he instructed the maid who entered, "Go and tell my wife and daughter the guest is here. Ask them to come out. Make it snappy!" At this he snapped his fingers. Turning to Hung-chien, he said with a laugh, "'Headache' is an American expression for 'wife, ' not 'pain in head! ' I guess you haven't been to the States ! " Just as Fang Hung-chien was feeling ashamed of his ignorance, Mrs. Chang and Miss Chang came out. Mr. Chang introduced them to Hung-chien. Mrs. Chang was a portly woman of forty or more with the dainty little foreign name of "Tessie." Miss Chang was a tall girl of eighteen with a fresh complexion, trim-fitting clothes, and a figure, which promised to be just as ample as the capital in her father's foreign company. Hung-chien did not quite catch her name. It sounded like Wo-Ni-Ta (I -You-He). He guessed that it was either "Anita" or "Juanita. " Her parents called her "Nita" for short. Mrs. Chang spoke Shanghainese better than her husband, but her native accent often showed through like an undersized jacket that doesn' t cover up the gown underneath. Mrs. Chang was a Buddhist and said that she recited the "Goddess of Mercy Chant" ten times a day to beg the Bodhissattva to protect China's army in its fight for victory. This chant, she said, was very efficacious. When the fighting in Shanghai was at its worst, Mr. Chang had gone to the export company to work while she stayed at home reciting incantations and, sure enough, Mr. Chang had come through without being hit by any stray bullets. Hung-chien thought to himself, Mrs. Chang enjoys
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immortal classics, as well as an anthology of a dozen screen plays, one of which, needless to say, was Gone with the Wind . There was one small blue volume with the title in gilt letters on the spine: How to Gain a Husband and Keep Him . Hung-chien could not resist taking it out and skimming through it. He came across a paragraph which read: "You must be sweet and gentle to the man in order to leave a good impression deep in his heart. Girls, never forget always to have a bright smile on your face. " As he read this, the smile transferred itself from the book to his own face. When he looked again at the cover, he noticed the author was woman and wondered if she were married. She should have written "Mrs. So-and-So," then the book would have obviously been the voice of experience. At this thought his smile broadened. Raising his head, he suddenly noticed Miss Chang' s gaze on him and hastily replaced the book and wiped the smile from his face. "For Example" asked Miss Chang to play the piano, and they all echoed the request in unison. When Miss Chang had finished playing, in order to rectify the misunderstanding which had caused his smile, Hung-chien was first to say "Wonderful, " and called for an encore. He stayed for a while longer, then said goodbye. Halfway home in the rickshaw, he remembered the title of the book and burst out laughing. Husbands are women ' s careers. Not having a husband is like being unemployed, so she has to hold tightly to her· "rice bowl. "Well, I don ' t happen to want any woman to take me as her "rice bowl" after reading that book. I'd rather have them scorn me and call me a "rice bucket. "Miss Wo-Ni- Ta , we just weren 't meant to "raise the bowl to the eyebrows. " I hope some other lucky guy falls in love with you . At this thought Bung-chien stamped his foot and laughed loudly. Pretending the moon in the sky was Miss Chang, he waved goodbye to her. Suspecting he was drunk, the rickshaw puller turned his head and asked him to keep still, for it was hard to pull the rickshaw. After all the guests had left, Mrs. Chang said, "That Fang fellow isn't suitable. He's too small-minded and values money too highly. He showed his true colors the moment I tested him. He acted as if he ere afraid we weren't going to pay him off. lsn' t that funny?" Mr. Chang said, "Get man goods don ' t measure up to American ones. Some doctor! He's supposed to have studied in England, but he didn' t even understand a lot of the English I spoke. After the first World War, Germany fell behind. All the latest designs of cars, airplanes, typewriters, and cameras are American made. I don' t care for returned students from Europe. " "Nita, what do you think of that Fang fellow?" asked Mrs. Chang. Miss Chang, who could not forgive Fang Hung-chien for his smile while reading the book, replied simply, "He's obnoxious! Did you see the way he
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3 PERHAPS BECAUSE so many people had died in the war, the unspent life energy of all those who had died in vain merged into the vital force of spring. The weather that spring was especially beautiful. Stirred by the invigorating spring, men, like infants cutting their teeth, somehow itched painfully from the budding of new life. A boomtown, Shanghai had no scenic spots in which spring might rest its feet. In the parks and lawns the grass and trees were like the wild beasts confined in iron cages at the zoo restricted and lonely; there simply was no place for spring to release its full splendor. Lodged only in the minds and bodies of men, spring brought an upsurge of illnesses and infections, adulteries, drunken brawlings, and pregnancies. Since the wartime population needed replenishment, pregnancies were a good sign. But according to Mrs. Chou, children born in that year were really the souls of all those who had died prematurely in the war hurrying to be reborn so that they could live out the allotted years of their lives. Consequently, she believed, they wouldn't live long. For the last few days, Fang Hung-chien had been drowsy during the day but wide awake at night. When he woke up at dawn and heard the birds chirping in the trees outside his window, for no reason at all he felt happy , full of inexplicable expectations. Also his heart seemed to have become lighter, giddy, floating, but it was an empty joy. Like the balloon released by a child, it would rise no more than a few feet and then burst into nothing, leaving only an indefinable sense of loss and disappointment. He was restless and eager for action and yet lethargic. He was like willow catkins floating about in the spring breeze, too light and too powerless to fly far. He felt this indecisive and confused state of mind was exactly like the mood evoked in the springtime poetry describing the longings of maidens secluded in their chambers. Since women themselves no longer bothered with such springtime sentiments and he, a man, was still afflicted with such thoughts, he felt ridiculous. A woman like Miss Pao, for instance, would never have time for springtime longing, but Miss Su? It would be hard to tell, for she seemed to be the model of the traditional beauty of sentiments. He had promised to visit her, and why shouldn't he visit her once? Although he knew the visit might lead to complications, he also realized that life was too terribly boring and there were so few ready-made girl friends. He was like an insomniac 97
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disregarding the ill effects of sleeping pills and thinking only of the immediate relief. When Fang Hung-chien arrived at the Sus' residence, he imagined Miss Su dashing into the living room, full of laughter and noise, and chiding him for not having come sooner. Instead, her doorman served him tea, informing him, "Miss Su will be right out." In the Sus' garden, the peach, the pear, and the lilac trees were in full bloom. It was only the end of February by the lunar calendar, but the flowers were already in bloom. He wondered what would be left of the spring scene by the time of the Ch' ing Ming Festival in early April. One of the windows in the living room was open, and the fragrance of flowers baked by the sun was thick enough to stuff one's nose and warm enough to make one drowsy. The fragrance of flowers resembles the odor of garlic and onions: both are scents from plants but smell meaty and not much different from the thick smell of human hair at a summer dance. Among the wall scrolls was a poem by Huang Shan-ku, calligraphed by Shen Tzup' ei. The first line read, "Flower scent overcomes man, making him wish to break Zen." He was amused by the line, thinking that if a monk had been affected by the fragrance outside the window, the monk had already violated his principle of total concentration and this transgression was similar to a monk's eating meat. After looking at the scrolls and antiques in the room for more than three times, he was struck by the thought that the foot stroke of Shen Tzu-p' ei' s character for "man" closely resembled the tiny bound foot of an elderly Peking maidservant. The top part of the leg character was stiff and bulky while the bottom part suddenly came to a tiny point and ended. Some foot that was! ] ust then Miss Su appeared. Her faint smile was like an overcast sky on a cold dreary day. As she shook his hand, she said, " I haven't seen you for a long time, Mr. Fang. What brought you here today?" She shook my hand with such warmth at our parting last year but now grasping her hand is like clutching a cold-blooded shark fin. We were on such good terms when we parted, so why this reserve today? Hung-chien wondered. Like a student who has crammed for an examination but finds he has forgotten everything after a night' s sleep, Hung-chien could only lie, saying that he hadn't been in town for more than a few days and had made a point of coming to see her. Miss Su courteously thanked him for "honoring her with a visit," and asked him where he was " making his mark. " He stammered that he had not yet found a job, was thinking of going to the interior, and for the time being was helping out at a bank run by a relative. Eyeing him, she asked, " lsn' t the bank run by your father-in-law? Mr. Fang, you are really something! When was the wedding? Here I am, an old classmate from years back, and yet you kept your wedding all to yourself and
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didn't breather a word about it. You were coming home to get married after you got your Ph. D. , weren't you? That's really a case of having you name on the golden rolls and figured candles in the nuptial chamber they call double happiness. I haven't had the honor of meeting Mrs. Fang. " Fang Hung-chien felt so ashamed that he wished he could hide somewhere. Remembering the news item in the Shanghai paper, he said quickly that she must have obtained that information from a newspaper. Roundly cursing the paper, he briefly recounted, in the manner of the Spring and Autumn Chronicles, the full story behind his having an adoptive fatherin-law and a fake doctorate. By purchasing a fake degree he was thumbing his nose at the world, he said; by accepting an adoptive relative, he was conforming to tradition, he argued. Then he added, "When I saw that item in the paper, first I thought of you, of how you would ridicule and despise me. I even got into a big row with my so-called father-in-law about the whole news re1ease . " Her expression gradually changing, Miss Su said, "What for? Why naturally all those insufferable, vulgar businessmen expect a return on their money. You can' t expect them to understand that true learning doesn' t depend on a degree. Why quarrel with him? After all, this Mr. Chou is your elder and he does treat you well enough. He has the right to put the item in the paper. Anyway, who's going to notice it? Those who do will forget it the moment they turn their backs. You thumb your nose at the big things, yet you take the trivial things so seriously. This contradiction is hilarious!" Fang Hung-chien sincerely admired Miss Su for her eloquence. He replied, "When you put it that way, I don't feel so guilty anymore. I should have come and told you everything earlier. Y au are so understanding! What you said about my getting hung up on trivialities is especially perceptive. The world's major issues can always be dealt with in one way or another; it's the minor issues that can't be treated carelessly. Take a corrupt official, for instance. He would accept millions in bribes but would never steal a man ' s wallet. I suppose I am not consistent enough in my cynicism." Miss Su felt like saying, That ' s not true . He doesn ' t steal the wallet because it isn ' t worth stealing. If there were millions in the wallet and stealing it were as safe as taking bribes, he'd steal it too. But she kept her thoughts to herself, eyeing Hung-chien momentarily; then staring down at the designs on the rug, she said, "It's a good thing that cynicism of yours doesn't apply to everything. Otherwise your friends would always be afraid that while you were humoring them on the outside, you were laughing at them inwardly. " Hung-chien quickly went out of his way to assure her how much he
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valued friendship. In their conversation, she revealed that her father had already gone to Szechwan with the government, that her brother had gone to work in Hong Kong, that her mother, her sister-in-law, and she herself were the only ones at home in Shanghai, and that she was thinking of going to the interior. Fang Hung-chien said perhaps they could again be travel companions going to the interior. Then she mentioned she had a cousin who had finished her first two years of college at their alma mater in Peking, and that since the university had moved to the interior because of the war, her cousin had quit school and stayed home for six months but was planning to resume her study again. It so happened that the cousin was at the Sus' that day, so Miss Su went in to get her to meet Hung-chien. They all could become travel companions in the future. Miss Su led out a cute little girl of about twenty and introduced her to Fang, "This is my cousin, T'ang Hsiao-fu." On Miss T'ang's charming, well-proportioned, round face were two shallow dimples; one look at her fresh and natural complexion, which most girls would have had to spend time and money to imitate, was enough to make one drool and forget his thirst, as though her skin were a piece of delicious fruit. Not especially large, her eyes were lively and gentle, making the big eyes of many women seem like the big talk of politicians and useless. A classics scholar, upon seeing her lovely teeth when she smiled, might wonder why both Chinese and Western traditional and modern poets would want to turn into the pin in a woman' s hair, the belt around her waist, the mat on which she slept, or even the shoes and socks, that she wore, and not think of transforming themselves into her toothbrush. Her hair unwaved, her eyebrows unplucked, and her lips unadorned by lipstick, she appeared to allow nature to take its own course with regard to her looks and had no wish to amend it in any way. In short, she was one of those rarities of modern civilized society a genuine girl. Many city girls who put on all the precocious airs cannot be considered as girls; then there are just as many others who are confused, silly, and sexless, and they too don't deserve to be called women. Fang Hung-chien immediately wanted to impress her, while she called him "elder senior schoolmate, " a respectful term of address. "That won't do," he protested. "When you call me 'senior, ' I feel like a prehistoric relic. Why do you add the word 'elder' ? It's my misfortune to have been born too early. Not being lucky enough to go to school at the same time you did is something I regret. If you call me 'senior' again, you're just deliberately reminding me that I'm old and out of date. That's too cruel. " Miss T' ang said, "Mr. Fang, you are too concerned with insignificant details. Forgive me. I'll first retract the word 'elder' . " 103
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At the same time Miss Su said lightheartedly, "Aren't you ashamed? Do you still want us to call you Little Fang like they did on the boat? Hsiao-fu, ignore him. If he can ' t accept the honor, then simply don ' t call him anything. " Fang Hung-chien noticed that the trace of a smile lingered on Miss T' ang' s face when she was not smiling, like the last few notes that float in the air after the music has ceased. Many women can smile just as sweetly, but their smile is only facial muscle calisthenics, as if a drill master were barking the order, "One!" and suddenly the whole face would be wreathed in smiles, then "Two!" and just as suddenly the smile would vanish, leaving a face as blank as the screen in a movie theater before the movie starts. Trying to make conversation, he asked what Miss T'ang's major at college was. Miss Su, on the other hand, wouldn't let Miss T' ang tell and insisted that he guess. Fang Hung-chien said Miss T' ang' s major was literature, which was wrong; he then said it was education, which was also wrong. When he found chemistry and physics were both wrong, he resorted to one of Chang Chimin's English expressions: "Search me ! Don' t tell me it' s mathematics. That would be too much!" Miss T' ang then told him. It was actually quite a common subject tical science. Miss Su said, "It' s still too much. In the future she will be our ruler, a lady official. " Fang Hung-chien said, "Women are natural political animals. Political tactics, such as saying yes and meaning no, retreating in order to advance, are what they know from birth. For a woman to study political science is really developing the innate through the acquired; it is as superfluous as adding flowers to embroidery. In Europe when I attended Professor Ernest Peygmann' s lectures, he said men have the capacity for creative thought and women for social activity. Thus, men's work in society should be turned over to women, so that men can seclude themselves at home to think at leisure, invent new science, and produce new art. I think that makes a lot of sense. Women don't need to study politics, but if present-day politicians want to succeed, they should all imitate women. In politics roles are being reversed." Miss Su said, "You're just purposely spouting weird ideas. You like that sort of thing. " Fang Hung-chien said, " Miss T ' ang, your cousin really doesn ' t appreciate the respect I' m showing her. I speak of women participating in government, yet she turns around and laughs at me for purposely spouting weird ideas! You be the judge as to who' s right. As the old saying goes, 'The house must first be put in order before the kingdom can be ruled and the country pacified. ' How many men, may I ask, can take care of domestic
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chores? They rely on women to manage the house, yet they go around boasting about how great men will run the country and bring peace. If they can' t be bothered with trivial little domestic chores, then it' s just like building a house by first positioning a roof in midair. There are several advantages in handing over the state and society completely to women. At least it would reduce the chances of war. Maybe diplomacy would become more complicated and there would be more secret treaties, but women' s biological limitation would make them shun war. And even if a war started, since women aren't as mechanically minded as men, they would probably use simple weapons and apply basic military maneuvers such as pulling out the hair, scratching the face, and pinching the body. In such cases damage would be insignificant. At any rate, the new women today have already balked at raising a lot of children. By that time they'll be so busy managing the affairs of the state that they'll have even less time to procreate. With the population down, wars probably won' t even occur. " Miss T' ang sensed that Fang Hung-chien was saying all that to attract her attention. Laughing to herself, she said, "I can't tell whether Mr. Fang is insulting politics or women. At the least, it's not complimentary." Miss Su said, "Oh, great, you spend all day beating around the bush trying to flatter her and she not only doesn't appreciate it, she doesn't even understand it. I suggest you save your breath. " "It's not that I don't appreciate what he said," said Miss T' ang. "I am truly grateful that Mr. Fang is willing to show off his eloquence. If I were studying mathematics, I bet he would have some other viewpoints and say that women are natural calculating animals." Miss Su said, "Maybe he would say that if someone like you wanted to study mathematics, he'd stop hating mathematics from then on. Anyway, no mater how you put it or how ridiculous the arguments get, it's all just talk. I never knew he had such a glib tongue. I guess I found that out on the boat returning home. When we were classmates in college, his face would tum scarlet whenever he saw us co-eds from a distance and get redder the closer he came. It was so red that we'd get hot and uncomfortable all over just looking at his face. We used to call him. ' The Thermometer' behind his back since his facial coloring indicated his relative distance from girls. It was so much fun. I never would have thought that once he' d gone abroad he'd get so thick-skinned and brazen-faced. Maybe he got his training from running around with girl friends like Miss Pao. " "What rubbish!" said Hung-chien nervously. "What ' s the point of bringing all that up? You co-eds are really something! You act serious in a person's presence, but as soon as his back is turned, you tear him apart. You
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the same." "Then you'd better find an eye doctor right away and have your eyes examined. Eyes that see things like that must have something wrong with them," said Fang Hung-chien, purposely guffawing to cover up his ill feelings. Chao Hsin-mei, quite pleased with the wisecrack he had made a moment ago, was for the moment unable to say anything in reply and puffed away furiously on his pipe. On the other hand, Miss Su tried hard not to laugh, though she was a little ill at ease. Miss T'ang, meanwhile, sat with a distant, aloof smile on her face, as if she were watching a fight from the clouds. It suddenly dawned on Hung-chien that Chao's rudeness toward him had stemmed from jealousy, for Chao had obviously taken him as his love rival. All of a sudden, Miss Su began calling Fang Hung-chien Hung-chien instead of Mr. Fang, as though she wanted Chao Hsin-mei to know her intimacy with Fang. Havingreflected. he decided. Unaware of Fang Hungchien's intention, Miss Su thoroughly enjoyed the battle of two men over her, but she was worried that the exchange might get too fierce and in a moment separate 'the victor from the vanquished, leaving only one of the two as the sole survivor and terminating all -the excitement around her. She was even more wonied that the vanquished might be Fang Hung-chien. She had tried to use Chao Hsin-mei to rouse Fang Hung-chien's courage, but perhaps Fang Hung-chien, like the war news in the newspapers for the last few days, had been "maintaining the present strength through strategic retreats." Chao Hsin-mei' s and Su Wen-Wan's fathers had been colleagues and had rented a house in Peking together during the early years of the Republic. Hsin-mei and Miss Su had been friends since childhood. When Mrs. Chao was pregnant with Hsin-mei, everyone thought she would have twins. By the time he was four or five, he was as tall as a seven-oreight-year-old, so that whenever the servant took him on a trolley car, the servant would always have to argue with the conductor over the "no fare required for children under five" rule. Though Hsin-mei' s body was huge, his head, resembling a large turnip with nothing in it, was not. In grade school he was the butt of his classmates' jokes; for with such a large target, no shot could ever miss the mark. With Miss Su and her brother and sister, he used to play "cops and robbers." The two girls, Miss Su and her now married older sister, could not run very fast, so when it came their turn to play the "robber," they insisted on being the "cop. " When Miss Su' s elder brother played the robber, he refused to be caught. Hsin-mei was the only one who would be a good little robber and take a beating. When they played Little Red Riding Hood, he was always the wolf, and when he ate up Miss Su or her sister, he would pick them up and make a strange expression by rounding his eyes and opening his mouth wide.
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In the part where the woodcutter kills the wolf and cuts open the wolf' s stomach, Miss Su' s brother pressed him into the mud and tried to dig at his stomach. Once Miss Su' s brother did really cut through his clothes with scissors. While Hsin-mei was amiable by nature, it dido' t fol19w that he therefore must have a poor mind. His father believed in physiognomy, so when he was thirteen or fourteen, his father took him to see a famous woman physiognomist who praised him for his "fire planet square, earth shape thick, wood sound high, cow ' s eyes, lion ' s nose, chessboard piece ' s ear, and mouth shaped like the character for 'four. ' " And she said his physiognomy fit the description of a high official according to her Hemp Robe fortunetelling book. 8 Moreover, she predicted that he would achieve great fame and high political status surpassing that of his father. From then on Hsin-mei considered himself a statesman. When Hsin-mei was little, he had a secret crush on Miss Su. One year when Miss Su was critically ill, he overheard his father say, "Wen-wan is sure to recover. She is destined to be an official ' s wife and has twenty-five years of a 'helpmate's fortune. '" He henceforth concluded that she would be his wife since the woman physiognomist had predicted he would be an official. When Miss Su returned from abroad, he thought he would renew their childhood friendship and propose to her at an appropriate time. But to his surprise, when Miss Su first came home, every other word she said was Fang Hung-chien, a name which she abruptly dropped after the fifth day. The reason was that she had discovered an old issue of a Shanghai newspaper and her sharp eyes had noticed an item in it that others had overlooked. It must be said that her long years of friendship with Hsin-mei did not add up to love, just as in winter no one can add today' s temperature to yesterday ' s to come up with a warm spring day for tomorrow. It must also be said that Hsin-mei excelled in making speeches in English; his resonant and fluent American speech, resembling the roll of thunder in the sky, when oiled and waxed, would slip halfway through the sky. Speeches, however, are delivered from a podium, with the speaker looking down at his audience. On the other hand, a marriage proposal has to be made by the person stooping down to half his height and earnestly entreating the other with an uplifted face. And since Miss Su was not his audience, he never had a chance to exercise his talent. Though Ch:ao Hsin-mei was jealous of Fang Hung-chien, it was not an it's either-you-or-me type of enmity. His haughty redeness was an imitation of Mussolini' s and Hitler's attitude toward representatives of small nations during negotiations. He thought he could overwhelm and scare off Hung-chien with the forbidding mannerism of Mussolini of Hitler. But when he encountered a retort from Hung-chien, he could neither pound the table nor
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roar like the Italian ruler or raise a fist in a shout of authority like the German leader. Fortunately he knew the diplomat ' s secret of using a cigarette to create a smoke screen if he found himself temporarily at a loss for words. When Miss Su came to his rescue and asked him about the war, he proceeded to recite from memory the editorial he had just written. Continuing to ignore Fang Hung-chien, he kept up his guard against Fang; his attitude resembled that of a person toward genns when inquiring after the health of someone with a contagious disease. Hung-chien was not interested in Hsin-mei' s talk and thought primarily of striking up a conversation with Miss T' ang, but Miss T' ang was listening to Hsin-mei with rapt attention. He prepared to wait for Miss T' ang to leave, then he would get up himself and ask her for her address when they left together. Hsin-mei finished analyzing the current war situation, looked at his watch and said, "It' s now almost five o' clock. I ' ll run to the newspater office for a while and then come take you to dinner at the 0 Mei-ch' un. If you want Szechwanese food, that' s the best Szechwan restaurant. The waiters all know me there. Miss T' ang, you must join us; Mr. Fang, if you are in the mood, why not come join the fun? I'd be glad to .. have you. Before Miss Su could answer, Miss T' ang and Fang Hung-chien both said it was late and they had to go home. They declined the invitation but thanked Hsin-mei, nonetheless. Miss su said, "Hung-chien, stay a while. There's something I want to talk to you about. Hsin-mei, my mother and I have a social engagement today, so let's eat at the restaurant some other day, all right? Tomorrow afternoon at four-thirty, all of you are invited to come here and have tea with Mr. And Mrs. Shen, who've just returned from abroad. We can have a good chat." When Chao Hsin-mei saw Miss Su detain Fang Hung-chien, he left in a huff. Fang Hung-chien rose and intended to shake hands with him but had to sit down again. "That Chao Hsin-mei is strange. He acts as if I had offended him in some way. He hates me so much that it shows on his face and in his .. speech . "Don't you hate him too?" asked Miss T'ang with a sly smile. Miss Su blushed and scolded her, "You' re awful. " When Fang Hung-chien heard Miss Su' s remark, he dared not deny hating Chao Hsin-mei but merely said, "Miss Su, thanks for inviting me to tea, but I don't think I will be coming." Before Miss Su could open her mouth, Miss T' ang said, "You can't do that? It's all right for the audience not to show up, but you' re one of the principal actors. How can you not come?" Miss Su said, "Hsiao-fu! If you utter any more nonsense, I'm not going to pay any attention to you. Both of you must come tomorrow!"
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Miss T' ang left in Miss Su' s car. Hung-chien, face to face with Miss Su, tried his best to say something that would dilute or clear the thick and stifling atmosphere of intimacy. "Your cousin has a sharp tongue. She seems quite intelligent too." "That girl is very capable for her age. She has a slew of boy friends that she fools around with!" Hung-chien' s disappointed look sent a twinge of jealousy through Miss Su' s heart. "Don't think she's naive. She is full of schemes! I always thought that a girl just entering college who is already involved in love affairs can ' t have much of a future. I mean, how can someone who runs around with boys and leads a wild mixed-up life still have time for study? Don' t you remember our classmates, Huang Pi and Chiang Meng-t' i? Who knows what's become of them now?" Fang Hung-chien quickly said he remembered them. "You were quite popular yourself in those days, but you always looked so arrogant. We could only admire you from a distance. I never dreamed that we would be such good friends today. " With that Miss Su felt better. Then she brought up some old school matters; and when Hung-chien saw she really had nothing important to say, he said, "I'd better be going. This evening you still have to go out with your mother on a social engagement." Miss Su said, "I don't have any engagement. That was just an excuse, because Hsin-mei was so rude to you. I don't want to make him any more arrogant. " Hung-chien said nervously, "You're too kind to me. " Miss Su glanced at him; then lowering her head she said, "Sometimes I really shouldn' t be so kind to you. " The tender words he was supposed to say at that point squirmed in the air and rushed to the tip of his tongue to be spoken. He didn' t want to say them, yet he couldn' t remain silent. As he saw Miss Su' s hand resting on the edge of the sofa, he reached out and patted the back of her hand. She drew back her hand and said softly, "You go now. Come a little early tomorrow afternoon." She walked him to the door of the living room. As he crossed the threshold, she called, "Hung-chien. " He turned around and asked what was the matter. She said, "Nothing. I was just watching you. Why did you dash forward without even turning your head? Ha, ha, I have become such an unreasonable woman. I wanted you to grow eyes at the back of your head. Come early tomorrow. " When he left her, Fang thought he had become a part of spring, at one with it in spirit and no longer the outsider of two hours ago. As he walked along, his body felt so light that it seemed the ground was floating upward. Just two small matters bothered him. First, he should never have touched 117
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move the capital out of Paris? Yet you were the final victors!' They had nothing to say to that, no sir, not a thing. " Hung-chien was thinking, Governments may be able to move their capitals, but I can ' t change my seat. As though offering an expert' s opinion. Chao Hsin-mei observed, "An excellent answer! Why don't you write an article about it?" "Wei-lei [Mrs. Shen] put those remarks of mine in the foreign correspondence column in a Shanghai paper. Didn't you see it, Mr. Chao?" asked Mr. Shen with a touch of disappointment. Mrs. Shen twisted around and gestured at her husband, saying with a coquettish smile, "Why bring up that thing of mine? Who'd ever have noticed .Jt.? "
Hsin-mei said quickly, "Yes, I did see it. I was very much impressed. Now I remember, it had the part about relocating the capital. " "I didn't see it," Hung-chien interrupted. "What was it called?" Hsin-mei said, "You philosophers study timeless questions, so naturally you don' t read newspapers. It was called uh it' s on the tip of my tongue. Why can't I think of it just now?" He had never read the article in the first place but couldn't pass up the chance to humiliate Hung-chien. Miss Su said, "You can't blame him. He probably was in the country at the time the article appeared, and he might not have seen any newspapers. Right, Hung-chien? The title is quite easy to remember: 'Some Letters to My Sisters in the Motherland. ' At the top was a headline in large type which went something like this, 'A Verdant Island of Europe in the Azure Blood of Asia. ' Mrs. Shen, is my memory correct?" "Oh, that' s right," said Hsin-mei, slapping his own thigh. "' Some Letters to My Sisters in the Motherland' and 'A Verdant Island of Europe in the Azure Blood of Asia.' Beautiful titles. What a good memory you have, Wen-wan!" Mrs. Shen said, "Gee, you even remember that silly thing of mine. No wonder all the people who know you say you are a genius." Miss Su said, "If it is something good, you don' t have to remember it. It' llleave a deep impression by itself." Miss T' ang said to Hung-chien, "Mrs. Shen wrote her article for us women to read. You' re one of the 'brothers in the motherland, ' and you can be forgiven for not having noticed it." Since Mrs. Shen was not young and since her letter was not addressed to her " nieces and grandnieces in the motherland," Miss T' ang, by reading it, had been elevated to the status of Mrs. Shen' s sister. To make amends for his forgetfulness , Hsin- mei flattered Mrs . Shen ,
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saying that the Sino-American News Agency was going to publish a women's magazine and asking for her help. The Shens grew even more friendly toward Hsin-mei. The servant drew the curtain separating the dining room from the living room, and Miss Su invited everyone to step inside for refreshments. Hung-chien felt like a criminal having been granted a pardon. When he finished eating, he returned to the living room and quickly sat next to Miss T' ang. Mrs. Shen and Chao Hsin-mei were so deeply engrossed in their conversation that they could not be separated; since he had a stuffy nose and a cold Hsin-mei didn't mind being close to Mrs. Shen. Meanwhile, Mr. Shen was dropping hints to Miss Su with the intention of having Uncle Su find him a position in Hong Kong. On the other hand, Fang Hung-chien decided his luck that day had turned for the better, as in the expression "After the bitter comes the sweet," and he asked Miss T' ang in a whisper, "You didn't eat anything just now, as if you didn't feel well. Are you better now?" "I ate quite a bit," said Miss T' ang. "There is nothing wrong with , me. "I' m not the host; you needn' t be polite with me. I clearly saw you drink a mouthful of soup, then frown and play with the spoon without eating anything else. " "What's so interesting about watching someone eat? Is it polite to keep staring at someone? I didn't like you watching me eat, so I didn't eat. That' s what you did to me Ha, ha, Mr. Fang, don't take it seriously. I really didn't know you were watching others eat. Tell me, when you were sitting down next to Mrs. Shen, why did you turn your face away and hold your !llouth tightly shut as if under torture?" "So the same thing happened to you!" Fang Hung-chien and Miss T' ang laughed intimately, having now become comrades in adversity. Miss T'ang said, "Mr. Fang, I'm a little disappointed today." "Disappointed? What were you hoping for? Wasn't that smell strong enough for you?" "It' s not that. I thought for sure that there' d be a lot of fireworks between you and Chao Hsin-mei. Who would have thought there' d be nothing." "I' m sorry that there wasn' t any nice drama for you to watch. Chao Hsin-mei misunderstands my relationship with your cousin. Maybe you are under the same misunderstanding. I just let him be the provocateur today, while I sit back without returning his salvos to let him know I have nothing against him. " "Is that true? Wouldn't a mere indication from my cousin clear up the misunderstanding?" -
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"Maybe your cousin has her own ideas. Dispatching a general on a mission isn't as effective as challenging him to do it as a mission impossible. There has to be a major adversary before Mr. Chao's ability can come to the fore. Too bad this tired old soldier can' t live up to the fight and for that matter isn't interested in the fighting. " "Why not be a volunteer?" "No, it'd be like dragging in a conscript. " As he said this, Fang Hungchien regretted having spoken so flippantly, since there was no guarantee that Miss T' ang wouldn ' t pass all this on to Miss Su. "But often the underdog gets more sympathy from the bystanders." Realizing that this remark could be misconstrued, Miss T' ang blushed. " I mean, my cousin might be aiding the smaller, weaker people." Hung-chien was so overjoyed at hearing this that his heart skipped a beat. "That's her business. Miss T' ang, I'd like to invite you and your cousin for dinner tomorrow at the 0 Mei-chun. May [ have the honor?" Miss T' ang hesitated and before she could answer, Hung-chien went on, "I know it's very presumptuous of me. Your cousin told me you have many friends. Though I am unworthy, I'd like very much to be included among them. " "I don't have any friends. My cousin was talking nonsense. What did she say to you?" "Oh, nothing in particular. Just that you are very good at socializing and know quite a few people. " "That's ridiculous. I am just an ignorant country girl!" "You're being polite. Please come tomorrow. I wanted to go to that restaurant but didn' t have a good excuse. I'm using you two as a pretext so I can enjoy myself. Please oblige me by accepting the invitation." Miss T' ang said with a smile, "Mr. Fang, there's something behind everything you say. If that's the way it is, I'll certainly come. What time tomorrow evening?" Hung-chien told her the time. Relaxed and happy, he heard Mrs. Shen speak in her sonorous voice, "The time I attended the World Conference of . Women, I observed a widespread trend. Women all over the world are now going in the direction of men." Hung-chien was both startled and amused, thinking, It~ s been like that since ancient times. Mrs. Shen shouldn't have to attend a women's conference now to find that out. Meanwhile, Mrs. Shen continued, "All the occupations that men have held, such as members of parliament, lawyers, journalists, airplane pilots, women can hold and perfonn just as well as men. A Yugoslav woman sociologist gave a lecture at the conference in which she said that with the exception of women who were willing to be virtuous wives and mothers, career women could be called ' the
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third sex. ' Though the women ' s liberation movement is a recent development, already there have been such outstanding achievements. I would venture to say that in the near future the distinction between the sexes will become an historic term." Chao Hsin-mei said, "You're right, Mrs. Shen. Women today really are capable! Wen-wan, take Miss Hsii Pao-ch' iung, for instance. Do you know her, Mrs. Shen? She helps her father manage a dairy farm and handles major and minor chores herself. Outwardly she looks so dainty and refined. You could never tell what she does." Hung-chien said something to Miss T' ang, whereupon Miss T' ang burst out laughing. Miss Su said, "Pao-ch' iung is more clever than her father and is actually the behind-the-scenes manager." Disgusted by Hung-chien's closeness to Miss T' ang, she asked, "Hsiao-fu, what's so funny?" Miss T' ang just shook her head and laughed. Miss Su then said, "Hungchien, if there's a joke let us hear it. " Hung-chien too shook his head and said nothing, making it even more apparent that he and Miss T' ang were sharing a mutual . Miss Su became quite vexed, and Chao Hsin-mei, putting on his most supercilious expression, said, "Maybe the 1 great philO&Jpher Fang was expounding some optimistic philO&Jphy of life, which made Miss T' ang so happy. Right, Miss T' ang?" Ignoring Hsin-mei, Fang Hung-chien said to Miss Su, "I heard Mr. Chao say he couldn' t tell by looking at Miss Hsii that she runs a dairy farm. Maybe Mr. Chao thinks Miss Hsii ought to grow two horns on her head so that people could tell who she is at one glance. Otherwise, you could never tell what she does, no matter what she looks like." Chao Hsin-mei said, "That makes no sense. If she grew horns on her head and turned into a cow herself, how would that show she ' s a dairy manager?" While he was speaking, he looked around the room and roared with laughter, feeling he had trounced Fang Hung-chien again. Detennined not to be the first one to leave, he entrenched himself deeper into the sofa. Having achieved his aim, Fang Hung-chien did not care to stay any longer and wanted to leave while there were still enough people present to make his parting from Miss Su a little easier. Since he hadn't been near her that day, Miss Su made a point to see him to the hallway. Her reasoning was similar to warming one' s hands in front of the stove before stepping outside on a cold day. Hung-chien said, "Miss Su, I didn' t have a chance to talk with you much today. Are you free tomorrow evening? I'd like to invite you to dinner at the 0 Mei-chun. I don't care to have Chao Hsin-mei invite me. I just wish I were an old customer. I probably can' t order the dishes as well as he can. " The fact that Fang was still at odds with Chao Hsin- mei gave Miss Su an •
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uplift in spirit. She said with a smile, "Fine. Just the two of us, then?" As soon as she said this, she felt a little embarrassed, having realized that the • quest10n was unnecessary. Fang Hung-chien said hesitatingly, "No, your cousin is also coming." "Oh, she is. Have you invited her?" "Yes, I did. She promised to come- to accompany you." "All right then, goodbye." Miss Su' s parting manner dampened Fang Hung-chien's high spirits. He felt the situation between him and the two women was too difficult to handle and prayed that he would be able to handle it smoothly and cleanly and let Miss Su' s affections toward him die a painless death. He heaved a sigh for Miss Su. Though he didn' t love her, he had become softhearted because of her. It's just too unfair! She is too scheming. She shouldn't be so easily hurt and she should bear the situation without complaint. Why does love have to lower one' s mental resistance and make one so weak that one can be easily manipulated? If God really loved man , He would never be the master of man, he thought. If his thoughts had been made known to Chao Hsinmei, Fang Hung-chien would have had to listen to Hsin-mei' s abuse about how "the philosopher is up to tricks. " That night Fang's sleep was fitful, like rice-flour noodles without elasticity or stretchability. His joy burst from his dreams and woke him four or five times. Each time he awoke, he seemed to see T' ang Hsiao-fu' s face and to hear her voice. Her every word and gesture during the day he tried to impress upon his heart. Moments later he would drift to sleep only to awake with a start a moment later, feeling his joy had been robbed by sleep. Once more he would mentally review the day' s happiness. When he finally awoke and got up, he found the sky dull and gray. He had not chosen a nice day for a dinner party, he thought, and wished he could have pressed blotting paper against the pale rain clouds to dry them up. Monday was usually the busiest day of the week at the bank. Fang wouldn't be able to leave the office until after six o' clock in the evening. Since he wouldn' t have time to come home and change before going to the restaurant, he got dressed in the morning before leaving for work. Imagining he were Miss T' ang, he judged his appearance in the mirror through her eyes. In less than a year since his return from abroad, he had acquired more wrinkles on his forehead, and since he hadn't slept well the night before, his complexion and eyes were dull and lusterless. His acquisition of a new love two days ago had made him meticulously aware of every last blemish in his appearance in the manner of a poor man with only one dress suit who knows its every spot and patch. Actually, to other people, his complexion looked the same as ever, but he found himself particularly ugly that day. Thinking that 131
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the color of his necktie made his sallow complexion greenish, he changed neckties three times before going down for breakfast. As usual, Mr. Chou was still in bed, so Fang ate with Mrs. Chou and Hsiao-ch' eng. As Fang was still eating breakfast, the telephone outside his bedroom upstairs rang. At home, he seldom had a moment's peace and quiet, and when irritated by the phone, he would often think his fiancee's life had been snatched away by that "soul-snatching bell" of the telephone. The maid-servant came down to say, "Telephone, Mr. Fang. It's someone named Su, a woman." As she spoke, her eyes passed the message to Mrs. Chou and Hsiao-ch' eng, whose eyes were so busy that they resembled ripples in a spring pond in the breeze. Hungchien had never expected Miss Su to call, and he was sure Mrs. Chou would quiz him about the call. As he bounded up the stairs to answer the phone, he heardHsiao-ch'eng remark in a loud voice, "I bet it's Su Wen-wan." The oth~r day in his history class Hsiao-ch' eng had incorrectly identified the family name of the Manchu rulers Ai-hsin Chiao-lo as Ch' in-ai Pao-lo( Dear Paul); for his mistake he had received a severe reprimand from his teacher, and the reprimand had so infuriated him that he was playing hooky and staying home that day. On the other hand, after seeing Miss Su' s name once, he had it memorized. As Hung-chien picked up the receiver, he felt the entire Chou family were listening in with bated breath. "Miss Su?" he said softly. "This is Hung-chien." "Hung-chien, I thought you'd still be home so I called you up. I'm not feeling well today, so I won't be going to the 0 Mei-chun this evening. I'm very sorry. Y ou mustn ' t get rnad at me. " "Is Miss T' ang going?" As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he regretted having said them. Incisively, she said, "I have no idea." Then in a distant tone, she went on , "Of course , she will be. " "What's wrong with you? Is it serious?" He knew his inquiries were already too late. "It' s nothing. I just feel too tired to go out. " The implication was obvious. "Well, I am relieved to hear that. Take good care of yourself. I'll certainly see you tomorrow. What do you like to eat?" "Thank you. I don't want anything." Pause. "Well, then, I will see you tomorrow. " After Miss Su hung up, it occurred to Chung-chien that as a matter of courtesy he should cancel and schedule the dinner for another day. Should he call Miss Su and ask her to tell Miss T' ang about the postponement? But he
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T' ang. In his heart what Hung-chien felt was gratitude, not joy. After greeting her, he said, "I am sorry Miss Su couldn't make it today. " "I know. I almost didn' t make it myself. I tried calling you but couldn' t get through. " "Then I ' m grateful to the telephone company. I hope their business prospers and their lines get so busy that telephone calls to make last minute changes of plan won't get through. Did you call the bank?" "No, I called your house. This is what happened. Early this morning my cousin called me saying she couldn't come to dinner and had already informed you. I said I wouldn't go either, in that case. She wanted me to tell you myself and gave me your phone number. I dialed and asked, " Is this the Fangs' residence?" A woman answered in your native dialect I couldn't imitate the way she said it 'This is the Chous' residence. There is only one person named Fang here. Are you Miss Su? You want to speak to Fang Hungchien. Hung-chien's not in. I'll have him call you when he gets back. Miss Su, you must come visit sometime when you're free. Hung-chien often says how pretty and talented you are,' and she went on and on in the same breath. I meant to explain, but I couldn't get in a word. I thought all that rice gruel was l:5eing poured down the wrong ear, so I very rudely hung up on her. Who was that?" "That's my relative, Mrs. Chou, the wife of the general manager of the bank where I work. Your cousin had called just before I left the house, so Mrs. Chou thought the call was from her again." "Oh, no! What a mess. Mrs. Chou surely blames my cousin for being so rude. I hadn't hung up for more than five minutes when my cousin called again to ask whether I'd talked to you. I said you weren't home, and then she gave me your office number. I thought you were probably on the way there, so I might as well wait a while before calling. Tehn of all things, my cousin · called me fifteen minutes later for the third time. I was getting a little mad. When she found out I hadn't yet got in touch with you, she told me to hurry and call you before you'd reserved a table. I said if he's reserved a table then I will go. What difference would it make? She said that wouldn't be good and invited me to her house for dinner. I replied that I wasn't feeling well either and wasn't going anywhere. Later I thought my cousin was just too silly. I decided to accept your invitation and not make any call." Hung-chien said, "Miss T' ang, today you haven't just honored me with your presence, you've been a real savior. As host I am more than grateful. I'll have to invite you out many more times. If none of the invited guests shows up, it means the death sentence for the host as far as his social life is concerned. Today was a close call!" '
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widespread, the number of people writing letters decreases. Unless it's an important business matter, people are afraid to write letters, and they ' d rather call on the phone. I think that's because it's easy to make a fool of yourself in writing a letter. People in high positions can often speak quite well but can't handle a pen effectively. But with a phone call a person can dispense with a visit from someone repulsive or hide his poor writing ability. So the telephone has been considered a great gift to mankind. " Fang Hung-chien babbled on happily, urging Miss T' ang to eat from time to time. He, on the other hand, ate very little. By the time they had their fruit for dessert, it was nine o'clock. She wanted to leave, and he didn' t dare keep her. After paying the bill, he asked the waiter to call a taxi to take her home. He told her he had promised to go see Miss Su the next day and asked if she was going. She replied she might but doubted Miss Su was really sick. He then asked, "Should we tell her about our dinner tonight?" "Why not? No, no. I got mad a while ago and told her I wasn't going anywhere today. All right, whatever you decide. In any case you can't go to her place until after work tomorrow, and I will go a little later. " "I was thinking of visiting you the day after tomorrow. Would you . d?" mm . "I'd be glad to have you. It's just that our house is very cramped, nothing like Miss Su' s Western-style house with a big garden. If you don't mind visiting a modest home, come by all means." "May I meet your father?" he asked. "Not unless you have some legal questions to ask him. He usually stays in his law office and doesn't get home until late in the evening. My parents have absolute trust in my sisters and me. They've never interfered with or checked up on our friends, " she replied. The taxi arrived as Miss T' ang was speaking, and Hung-chien helped her into it. On his way home in the rickshaw, he thought the day had turned out to be unexpectedly perfect. But Miss T ' ang ' s parting remark about "our friends" made him jealous as he conjured up visions of a huge throng of young men secretly surrounding her. When Miss T' ang arrived home, her parents teased her, "Well, our social butterfly is home. " She went to her room and was changing her clothes, when the maid said Miss Su was on the phone. She went downstairs to answer the phone, but halfway down the stairs she changed her mind, stopped, and instructed her maid to say, "Young Lady isn' t feeling well and has gone to bed." Indignantly, she thought, That must be my cousin checking up to see whether I' m home or not. She is such a bully. Fang Hung-chien isn 't hers, and be doesn't need her to look after him like that! The more she interferes,
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the closer I will let him get to me. I can never love Fang Hung-chien ; love is a grand and complicated emotion , and it's never so simple and easy. If I could fall in love with someone that easily , then I can ' t either believe in or submit to love. The following afternoon Hung-chien bought some flowers and fruit and went to the Sus. The moment he saw Miss Su, he burst out without giving her a chance to speak, "What happened yesterday? You got sick, she got sick. Was it anything contagious? Or were you afraid I'd poison the food? Was I ever mad! I just went to eat by myself. I could have cared less that you weren't coming. All right, all right, now at least I know what a couple of stuck-up girls you are. Next time I won't risk a refusal." Miss Su apologized, "I really was sick. I felt better by afternoon but didn't call you up for fear you'd scold me for playing jokes on you, changing my mind from one moment to the next. When I told Hsiao-fu I was sick yesterday, I didn' t tell her not to go. Let me call her up and ask her over. It's all my fault. Next time I will be the host. " She then called up Miss T' ang to ask if Miss T' ang felt better and invited her over, saying that Hungchien was at her house. After she hung up, she took the flowers Hung-chien had given her and smelled them, instructing the servant to arrange them in the vase in her bedroom. Turning to Hung-chien, she asked, "When you were in England, did you know a Ts' ao Yuan-lang?" Hung-chien shook his head. "He studied literature at Cambridge. He's a new-style poet who's just returned from abroad. His family and mine have been friends for generations. Yesterday he came to see me, and he's coming again today. " "Oh, so that's it," said Hung-chien. "No wonder you didn' t show up yesterday. All that time you were discussing poetry with someone. We're uncouth, just not worthy of your acquaintance. This Mr. Ts' ao hails from the illustrious Cambridge University, while we are nominal students from newly established colleges. How could we ever qualify to make friends with him? Tell me, since your Eighteen Poets of the Colloquial Style doesn't seem to mention him, are you planning to include him in the next edition?" Miss Su was half angry and half amused. Waving her finger at him, she said, "You like being jealous, and it's over nothing." Her expression and implication frightened Fang Hung-chien so much that he became wordless, and he blamed himself for having done too well at feigning anger. Presently Miss T' ang came in. Miss Su said to her, "Such airs you put on! I called up yesterday to ask about you, and today you didn' t even return the call. Now you wouldn't come until I invited you. Mr. Fang was asking about you." "Am I good enough to put on airs?" said Miss T ' ang. "I keep getting bossed around; is it so strange that I don't come until summoned? If I refuse
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to come after being invited, then you can call me self-important." Afraid that Miss T' ang might say something about her three telephone calls the day before, Miss Su quickly put her arm around Miss T' ang' s waist and said placatingly, "Look at you. I was joking and you take it so seriously. " She then peeled an orange Hung-chien had brought and shared it with him. The doorman showed in a perfectly round- faced man, announcing, " Mr. Ts' ao. " Hung-chien gave a start. How did his last year' s shipmate, Mrs. Sun's child, grow so big already, he wondered, and nearly called Mr. Ts' ao "Brother Sun. " Mrs. Sun' s child and the guest did resemble each other a great deal, and somehow Fang felt that it was inappropriate for a poet to have such a plump face and big ears, as if those features would mean that his poetry couldn't be any good. Then he suddenly remembered that the T' ang poet Chia Tao noted for his poetic leanness, was also round-faced and squat in stature, and he shouldn't judge Ts' ao Yi.ian-lang by his appearance. When the introductions and pleasantries were over, Ts' ao Yan-lang took a redwoodbound copybook from his briefcase and solemnly presented it to Miss Su, saying, "I brought this today especially to ask for your opinion. " Hung-chien then realized it was not a copybook but a notebook of fine Hsiian calligraphy paper in a deluxe mounting put out by the Jung-pao Printing House. Miss Su took the notebook and leafed through it, saying, "Mr. Ts' ao, let me keep it so I can study it. I will return it next week. OK? Hung-chien, you haven't read Mr. Ts'ao's work, have you?" Hung-chien was just thinking what wonderful poetry this must be to be recorded in such a fancy notebook. Reverently he took it from Miss Su; he found standard-type-face characters written very evenly with a brush. The first poem of fourteen lines was entitled "Adulterous Smorgasbord," with the small number "1" beneath it. After studying the poem carefully, he discovered that the poet' s annotations were on the second page. This "1", "2", "3", "4", and so on indicated the sequence of the annotations. Note "1" was "Melange adultere. " The poem read as follows: The stars of last night tonight stir ripples on the wind swirling into tomorrow night(2). The full, plump white belly of the pregnant woman is pasted tremblingly to the heavens(3). When did this fleeing woman who had maintained a chaste widowhook find a husband? ( 4) 1 ug! 1 ug! ( 5) In the mud En ange e il mondo ! [sic] ( 6) a nightingale sings(7), Hung-chien skipped to the last couplet: The summer evening after the rain is saturated and 145
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washed; the earth is fertile and fresh. The smallest blade of grass joins in the soundless outcry. "Wir sind!" (30) At the end of the poem the sources of the words and phrases were carefully noted, including excerpts from the poetry of Li I -shan, T. S. Eliot , Tristan Corbiere, Leopardi, and Franz Werfel. Hung-chien surmised that the "belly of a pregnant woman" referred to the moon; the "fleeing woman," to Ch' ang 0; and the "nightingale in the mud," to a frog. He did not have the stomach to read any further and put the book down on the tea table, saying, "There's not one word without a source. It's almost like what traditional poets call 'scholar's poetry.' Isn't that style neoclassicism?" Ts' ao Yuan-lang nodded and repeated "neoclassic" in English. Miss Su asked which poem it was and then she read through " Adulterous Smorgasbord. " When she finished reading it, she exclaimed, " Such a marvelous title. There' s one phrase that ' s especially good: ' the soundless outcry. ' Those words truly capture summer' s bursting squirming vitality. How wonderful that Mr. Ts' ao was able to express everything so well!" Upon hearing this, the poet was so delighted that his plump face, as round as the. T' ai-chi diagram, was flooded with butter. Hung-chien suddenly had the alarming suspicion that Miss Su was either a big idiot or a superb liar. Miss T' ang also went over the poem and said, "Mr. Ts' ao, you're too cruel to us unlearned readers. I can' t read any of the foreign words in the poem. " The poet said, "The style of this poem is such that those who can't read the foreign words can appreciate it all the more. The title is an assortment, a mixture of different ideas. You just have to note how each person's poetic phrase is used. Naturally the mixture of foreign words with the Chinese gives it a random, disorganized impression. Miss T' ang, dido' t you get this haphazard, mixed-up feeling?" Miss T' ang nodded her head in agreement. Like the surface of a pond at the drop of a pebble, Ts' ao Yuan-lang's face was wreathed in smiles. He said, "Then you ' ve grasped the essence of the poem. There's no need to look for its meaning. If the poem has any meaning, so much the worse for it. " Miss Su said, "Excuse me, all of you wait here a minute. I will show you something." When Miss Su had gone, Hung-chien said, "Mr. Ts' ao, when Miss Su' s second edition of the Eighteen Poets of the Colloquial Style comes out, it'll certainly include you as the nineteenth." Ts'ao Yuan-lang said, "Not a chance. I'm much too different form the other poets; we don't go together. Miss Su told me yesterday that she wrote that book to get her degree. Actually she doesn ' t think much of their poetry. "
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"Oh, really?" "Mr. Fang, have you read her book?" "I did, but I don' t remember much. " When Miss Su gave him a copy, he had merely flipped through it to see who the eighteen poets were. "In the preface she quotes a parable by Jules Tellier about a man whose hair was falling out. The man went to get a haircut, but the barber told him he needn't bother because his hair would all fall out by itself in a few days. For the same reason, most of modern literature is not worth criticizing. That parable is quite apt." "I guess I didn't notice that," Hung-chien could only say, thinking to himself: Good thing I don ' t want to marry Miss Su ; otherwise, I' d have to read her book just as carefully. Too bad Chao Hsin-mei ' s French is not good enough to read books; otherwise, he could certainly make Miss Su happy the way Ts 'ao does now. Miss T' ang said , "The poets my cousin discusses in her book are like eighteen strands of fallen-out hair; in the future Mr. Ts' ao will be like the single strand of hair that the miser refuses to part with." They all laughed. Miss Su returned to the room carrying a purple sandalwood fan case. Winking at Miss T' ang who smiled and nodded, Miss Su removed the case's lid, took out a woman's carved garu-wood folded fan, handed it to Ts' ao and said, "There's a poem on it. Please read it. " Yuan-lang opened the fan and read it aloud in the tone of a monk begging alms or an actor reciting the spoken part of opera. Hung-chien couldn't make out a word, for the chanting of a poem, like a dying man talking in his sleep, was in the native dialect. After reading it aloud, Yi.ian-lang then read it once more to himself, his lips puttering up and down in the manner of a cat chanting the sutra. Then he exclaimed, "Very good! It's simple and sincere and has the flavor of an ancient folk song. " Seemingly bashful, Miss Su said, "How sharp you are, Mr. Ts' ao! Tell the truth. Is the poem any good?" Fang Hung-chien took the fan from Ts' ao Yuan-lang. As soon as he saw it, he was filled with disgust. On the perfectly good gilt-flecked fan was the following poem written askew with a fountain pen in purple ink: Surely I've not imprisoned you? Or have you taken possession of me? You burst into my heart, Shut the door and turned the key. The key to the lock was lost By me, or maybe by you yourself. Now there's no way to open the door.
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· Forever you are locked in my heart. Below in small characters were: "Autumn, twenty-sixth year of the Republic ( 1937) , an old work copied for Wen-wan. Wang Er-k' ai. " This Wang Er-k' ai was a well-known young politician, a middle-level official in Chungking. Miss Su and Miss T ' ang meanwhile both looked at Fang Hung-chien, anxiously waiting for his reaction to the poem. He put down the fan and with a wry face said, "The palm of whoever wrote those characters should be spanked. I've never seen fountain pen writing on a fan; well, at least, he didn't write anything in English. " Hastily Miss Su said, "Never mind the calligraphy. What do you think of the poem?" Hung-chien said, "Could someone as ambitious as Wang Er-k' ai for high political office write good poetry? I'm not asking him for a job, and there's no obligation for me to flatter him, " totally unaware that Miss T' ang was frowning and shaking her head at him. " You are so obnoxious! " fumed Miss Su. " You' re completely • prejudiced. You shouldn't be discussing poetry." With that she took the fan from him. • Hung-chien said, "All right, all right, let me read it again calmly and objectively." Miss Su pouted and said, "I don't want you to," but she let him have the fan again. Suddenly pointing at the poem on the fan, Hung-chien exclaimed, "Oh, terrific! This poem was cribbed." Miss Su' s face livid, she said, "Don't be ridiculous! How could it have been cribbed?" Miss T' ang opened her eyes wide in amazement. "At the very least it was borrowed a foreign loan. Mr. Ts' ao was quite right when he said it had the flavor of an ancient folk song. Remember, Miss Su? We heard the professor talk about this poem in the history of European literature class. It's a Getman folk song of the fifteenth or sixteenth century. When I studied German with a tutor before I went to Germany, I came across it again in a beginning reader. It started out, 'I am yours, you are mine, ' and the rest of the poem went something like, 'You've been shut in my heart. The key is lost, and you can never get out. ' I can' t remember the exact words but I couldn't be mistaken about the general outline. There could never be such a coincidence. " Miss Su said, "I don' t remember this poem ever being discussed in the history of European literature class." Hung-chien said, "How could you not have? Maybe you didn't pay close attention in class. You didn't have to jot down everything the way I did. You can' t be blamed for that. You were attending classes in your own major and your not taking notes just showed how knowledgeable you were. You knew 151
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everything the professor said, but I was an auditor from the Chinese literature department; if I didn' t keep my pen busy in the classroom, I' d have been laughed at by you for being so ill prepared for the course that I couldn' t understand the lecture well enough to take notes. " Miss Su became wordless; Miss T' ang just lowered her head. Ts' ao Yi.ian-lang guessed that Fang Hung-chien's knowledge of German was about as good or as bad as his own. Besides, Fang was a Chinese major,· so he couldn't be too brilliant. For in a university, science majors look down on humanities majors, foreign language majors on Chinese majors, Chinese majors on philosophy majors, philosophy majors on sociology majors, and sociology majors in turn on education majors. Since education majors have no one to look down on, they can only despise the professors in their own department. Immediately Ts' ao Yi.ian-lang blurted out, "I knew the poem had a model. Didn't I say it had the flavor of an ancient folk song? But Mr. Fang's attitude is contrary to the spirit of literary appreciation. You Chinese majors all have the nasty habit or even obsession of textual authentication. If a poem has allusions, it means more to someone who can recognize them; reading it will bring to mind countless others which can set it off in contrast. Mr. Fang, if you read T. S. Eliot's poetry, you'd realize that every phrase in modern Western poetry has its source, but we never accuse those poets of plagiarism. Do we, Miss Su?" Fang Hung-chien wished he could have said, No wonder your honorable work is such a hodgepodge. You experts don' t find it at all strange, but we laymen feel obliged to report to the police when we have nabbed the thief and recovered the goods. Instead, he merely said with a smile, "Don't take it too hard. Gifts to women arc rarely one's own; it's nothing more than borrowing flowers to offer to Buddha. If the donor is an official, you can assume that the gift was fleeced off someone else. " As he spoke he wondered why Miss T' ang was not paying much attention. Miss Su said, "I don't like your cutting remarks. So Fang Hung-chien is the only intelligent person in the world." Hung-chien stayed a little longer; with no one in the mood for more conversation, he said goodbye and left before anyone else. Miss Su did not try to keep him. After he' d left the house he was vaguely uneasy, aware that his remarks might have offended Miss Su, that Wang Er-k'ai must be one of her worshipers. But remembering he was to visit Miss T' ang the next day, he, in anticipation, forgot everything else. When Fang Hung-chien arrived at the Tang's the next day, Miss T' ang' s maid told him to wait in Miss T' ang' s study. When Miss T' ang saw him, she said, "Mr. Fang, you made a terrible mistake yesterday. Did you 153
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know that?" Fang Hung-chien reflected for a moment; then he said with a smile, "You mean your cousin is mad at me because I criticized that poem?" "Do. you know who wrote the poem?" She saw his blank uncomprehending look and went on, "It was written by my cousin, not by Wang Er-k' ai." • "What!" he exclaimed. "Don't put me on. Didn't it plainly say on the fan, 'An old work copied for Wen-wan'?" "It was Wen-wan's old work that was copied. Wang Er-k'ai knows my uncle and was Chao Hsin-mei' s boss. He's married, but last year when my cousin returned from abroad, he was trying to ingratiate himself with her. He made Chao Hsin-mei so angry that Chao lost weight. Usually, when a person is filled with rage, he swells up and gets fat, don' t you think? Later the executive offices of the government all moved to the interior. Anxious to be an official, Wang finally cast my cousin aside and went to the interior, too. This is why Chao Hsin-mei refused to go there. The fan was Wang's present to my cousin, and he had someone specially carve the design on it. And the poem was my cousin's favorite piece. " "That moron, two-bit politician. The inscription on the fan was so ambiguous that it got me in trouble. Damn! What do I do now?" "What do you do? Luckily, you are a smooth talker. A few sentences should be enough to clear the matter. " Pleased and humbled by this remark, he said, "It's such a mess now; I am afraid it won't be easy to remedy the situation. I'll go home and write a letter of apology to your cousin immediately. " "I'd really like to know how you'd write such a letter. Let me learn how and maybe I can use one someday. " "If it proves very effective, I'll certainly make a copy of the letter for you. Did they criticize me much after I left yesterday?" "The poet said all kinds of things, but my cousin didn' t say much. She said your Chinese is very good. So quoting a friend of his, the poet said that nowadays if someone wanted to have good Chinese, he'd have to study foreign literatures. Before, people majoring in Western science had to know foreign languages, and now people in Chinese literature have to be well versed in Western languages first. This friend of his is supposed to be returning from abroad soon, and Ts' ao Yi.ian-lang wants him to meet my cousin. " "Oh, another jerk! If he's a friend of that poet, he couldn't have much on the ball. You saw that poem of his, something about the 'smorgasbord and adulterer. ' You can't tell what it's all about. And it's not honest, unpretentious incoherence, but presumptuous, arrogant, and shameless. It 155
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insults the reader's intelligence." "I' m too ignorant about such matters; I am not qualified to comment, but it seems to me somebody who has studied at a prestigious university abroad couldn't be as bad as you say. Maybe that poem of his was meant to be f unny. " "Miss T' ang, studying abroad today is like passing examinations under the old Manchu system. My father used to say that if a man failed the thirddegree examination, no matter how high an official he became, he' d carry that regret around for the rest of his life. It' s not for the broadening of knowledge that one goes abroad but to get rid of that inferiority complex. It's like having smallpox or measles, or in other words, it's essential to have them. Once a child has had the smallpox or measles, he can grow up protected, and if he comes in contact with these diseases later on, he has no fear of them. Once we've studied abroad, we've gotten the inferiority complex out of the system, and our souls become strengthened, and when we do come across such germs as Ph.D. 's or M.A. 's we've built up a resistance against them. Once we ' ve had smallpox, we can forget about ever having caught it; similarly, someone who's studied abroad should also forget about ever having gone abroad. People like Ts' ao Yiian-lang can never forget that they have studied abroad; everywhere they go they have to brag about their Oxford or Cambridge backgrounds. They are like those people who have contracted smallpox and got pock-marked and brag about their faces as if they were starred essays. " Smiling, Miss T' ang said, "If people heard you say all that, they'd just say you were jealous because their universities are more famous than the one you went to. " Unable to think of a reply, he gave a silly smile. She was glad that she sometimes caught him speechless. She then said, "Yesterday I wondered why you didn't know that the poem was my cousin' s. You must have read her poems before. " "I came to know your cousin on the boat coming home. It's been a very short time. We'd never even talked before. Remember that day when she said my school nickname was 'The Thermometer'? I am not interested in newstyle poetry, and I don't think it's worth getting interested in it just for your . ' s sake. " cousm "Hmm, if she found that out - " "Miss T' ang, listen to me. Your cousin is a very intelligent and talented woman, but how should I put it? An intelligent and talented woman was born to make a stupid man swoon before her. Since he himself has no talent, he looks upon her talent as something mysterious and wonderful, and so he 157
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prostrates himself before her in worship the way a penniless pauper idolizes a . h man. " nc "In other words, someone as intelligent as Mr. Fang would prefer a stupid, illiterate woman. " "Woman has an intelligence all her own, and it is as nimble and lively as her person. Compared to that kind of intelligence, talent and scholarship are sediments. To say a woman is talented and scholarly is like praising a flower utterly pointless. A truly for balancing on the scale with a cabbage or potato intelligent woman would never try to become a genius. She'd just find clever ways to loaf around. " "What if she wanted to get a Ph. D.?" she asked with a smile. "She' d never think of getting one in the first place. It' s only women with talents like your cousin who want a Ph. D." "But nowadays even to graduate from a run-of-the-mill university, you have to write a thesis." ''Then the year she is to graduate, there'd be a change in the world situation. The school would hold its commencement exercise early, and they'd let her graduate without requiring a thesis. " She shook her head in disbelief and dropped the subject. They quickly exhausted their topics of conversation, for pleasantries bear no repetition once they have been spoken. Though the words that lovers speak to each other are inexhaustible. Fang Hung-chien and Miss T' ang were not lovers. He felt that every subject that could be safely mentioned had been spoken, and he could . not say any more if he were not to step beyond the bounds of propriety. Noticing his silence, she said with a smile, "Why don't you say something?" Responding with a smile, he said, "Well, why don't you?" She told him that in the courtyard of her country home were two cinnamon trees, each over a hundred years old. When she was little she often noticed that a whole flock of noisy sparrows in the trees would suddenly fall silent; then after a brief pause just as suddenly they would start up all at once. And she commented that it was the same way with human conversation. On his way home Fang Hung-chien mentally drafted the letter to Miss Su, convinced that it would be more appropriate to write it in the classical style, since its ambiguity contained a terseness that would make it an excellent tool for glossing over or playing down an error. After dinner he wrote a rough sketch, amazed at his greatly increased ability to write the untruth. Worried that the joke might have gotten out of hand, he lay down his brush halfway through the letter; but when he thought how Miss T' ang would appreciate and understand the letter and how the lies would bring smiles to her lips, he continued on happily. The letter read as follows: "Yesterday when you showed •
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me the poem on the fan, I was vexed at seeing that such a beautiful piece of writing had been composed by none other than a vulgar common official. In my surprise and resentment, I made the unfair accusation that it must have had a model. Though I derived momentary pleasure, I really felt uneasy. I am beholden to you for your kindness. I deserve a stern rebuke." At the end of the letter he backdated it to the day before and then added two more lines: "P. S. After writing this letter, I left a whole day and night go by before sending it to you. Suffering such a defeat in front of Mr. Ts' ao was most upsetting. I hated it. "He then put down the day's date. He read the letter twice again with complete satisfaction. In his imagination, it was not Miss Su but Miss T' ang reading the letter. The next day when he arrived at the bank, he dropped the letter at the mail section to be delivered to Miss Su by a special messenger. In the evening he went home and had just reached his bedroom when the telephone rang. He reached over and answered it. "The Chous' residence. Who's calling, please?" He heard a woman say, "Guess who this is." Hung-chien said, "It's Miss Su, isn't it?" "Right." Crisp laughter. "Miss Su, did you get my letter?" "Yes, I did. You are childish. I don' t blame you. Don ' t I know your temperament ?. " "You may be willing to forgive me, but I can' t forgive myself. " "Oh, is it worth getting so upset about such trivia? Tell me, do you really think that poem is good?" Making every effort not to let the smirk on his face slip into his voice, Hung-chien said, "I just wish such a good poem hadn't been written by Wang Er-k' ai. It's too unfair! " "Let me tell you something. It wasn' t. " "Then who wrote it?" "I wrote it just for fun. " "What? You wrote it? Well, I'll be damned!" He was thankful that they were talking by telephone and not by television. Otherwise, the interesting combination of the glee on his face and the alarm in his voice would have certainly made Miss Su suspicious. "You were entirely justified in saying that the poem had a model. I got the idea from Tirsot' s collection of old French folk dance tunes and felt it was fresh and interesting, so I wrote a poem in imitation. According to you, there's a similar German version. It's obviously very common. " "Yours is more lively than the German poem." "You mustn't flatter me. I don't believe you!" "That ' s not £1 attery. " '
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"Are you coming over tomorrow afternoon?" Hung-chien answered quickly that he was, and since she still hadn' t hung up, he didn't hang up either. "Yesterday you said men don't give their own things to women. What did you mean by that?" He laughed apologetically and replied, "Because his own things are so lousy , he's ashamed of them, so all he can do is borrow someone else's things to offer. For instance, in inviting a lady out for dinner, if his house is too cramped and the cook's no good, then he has to go to a restaurant and make use of its facilities and cooking. " Miss Su giggled and said, "OK, you win. I'll see you tomorrow." His head damp with perspiration, he wondered whether it was from nervousness or from his hurried walk home. That evening Fang Hung-chien copied out a draft of the letter, enclosed a short note with it, and sent it to Miss T' ang. He wished he could have written in English, since the tone of a letter in literary style was so impersonal, while the tone of a letter in colloquial style too easily turned into · obnoxious familiarity. Only a letter in English would permit him to write openly, "My dear Miss T'ang," and "Very truly yours, Fang Hung-chien." These common terms of address in Western correspondence only sounded offensive and sickening in Chinese. He was well aware that his English was imbued with the spirit of the free speech of the British and the Declaration of Independence of the Americans in not being bound by the rules of grammar. Otherwise, were he really to depend on a foreign language to "dear" Miss T' ang, it would be like a political offender carrying out his activities while hiding in the foreign concessions in China. In the next month or two he saw Miss T' ang seven or eight times, wrote her a dozen or so letters, and received five or six replies from her. The first time he received a letter from her, he read it once before going to sleep, then put it next to his pillow, and when he awoke in the middle of the night, he turned on the light to read it again. When he had read it through, he switched off the light and settled back down; then mulling over what the letter had said, he couldn't resist turning on the light again and reading it once more. Later on the letters he wrote gradually became a day-to-day collection of random notes, which he took to the bank with him. Whenever he came across a subject of interest or thought of a phrase, he would pick up his pen and carry on a private, intimate talk with Miss T' ang on paper. Sometimes even when he had nothing to say, he would still want to write something such as, "Today at the bank I drafted several letters and now at last I can catch my breath, stretch, a-a-a-ah! Can you hear my yawn? The waiter came to say lunch is ready. I'll talk to you 163
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later. Maybe you're having lunch now. May you 'Eat a bite more and live till 9994, ' or, I still have more to say in this letter I'm about to send you, but as you can see, the page is already full. There's only this tiny space on the paper and I can barely squeeze in the sentence from my heart, which is still too shy to look you in the face. Oh! The page always considered letter-writing a small comfort which, while better than nothing at all, couldn't compare with the joy of meeting her face to face. Then when he did see her, there was so much he couldn't bring himself to say; he would then think it was still better to have written a letter. However, seeing her soon became an addiction. At first, a date with her could "wonderize" the day before and the day after by virtue of their association. Gradually he wished he could see her every day and even every minute. Once he had written and sent a letter off, he would be forever worrying about it, afraid that. when it, like a flaring arrow, reached its destination, it would be nothing but dead ashes by the time she received it. Miss Su and Miss T' ang saw less of each other than before, but Fang Hung-chien, caught between Miss Su' s alternating threats and kindness, had no choice but to go to the Sus often. Waiting for him to make his formal declaration of love, Miss Su inwardly faulted him for being so frivolous and tardy; he, on the other hand, was waiting for a chance to explain that he did not love her, and wished he weren't so tenderhearted and could be courageous enough to cut the Gordian knot. Every time he went to the Sus, he came away reproaching himself for having gone one more time and talked so much again. He gradually realized that he was what Westerners called a " moral weakling," and was worried that Miss T' ang would detect this major flaw in his character. One Saturday afternoon after returning home from having tea with Miss T' ang, he saw on the table an invitation from Chao Hsin-mei for dinner the next day and was struck with the horrible thought that this might be Hsin-mei' s engagement party. That would be disastrous. Miss Su would start concentrating her affections on him all the more. Miss Su called to ask if he had received the card or not and Hsin-mei had asked her to invite him; moreover, she told him to see her the next morning. The next day Miss Su said that Hsin-mei had insisted that he come, as a chance for everyone to get together. At first he was going to ask why Hsin-mei had invited him, but the words shrank away from the tip of his t0ngue. Not wishing to mention Hsinmei' s antagonism toward him any more for fear of deepening Miss Su ' s misunderstanding of him, he asked instead if any others were invited. She said two of Hsin-mei' s friends had also been invited. "Is that little fatso and big poet Ts'ao YUan-lang included? If he is, they can save on the food. Just looking at that meatball face of his will make people feel full," he said. "Probably not. Hsin-mei doesn't know him. I know how petty both you 165
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and Hsin-mei are. Hsin-mei would start quarreling the moment he saw Yuanlang. Well, my place here is not a battlefield, and I am not going to let the two of them meet. Yiian-lang is a very interesting fellow. You're so biased; I think your heart must be way over in your armpit. Since that time, I haven't let you and Yi.ian-lang meet so as to avoid any squabble." He was going to say, "Actually it makes no difference to me," but under her doting gaze, he couldn't say anything. At the same time, he was greatly relieved to learn that Ts' ao Yi.ian-lang had been added to the list of Miss Su' s worshipers. "What do you think of Chao Hsin-mei?" she suddenly asked. "He is more capable than I and has a very dignified bearing. He is sure to be a success in the future. I think he is in fact an ideal uh man." If God had praised the devil or a socialist had eulogized the petty bourgeoisie, Miss Su could not have been more astonished. She was all set for Hung-chien to ridicule Hsin-mei, whereupon she was going to uphold justice by arguing in Hsin-mei' s defense. She then said with a sniff, "The guest is already praising the host before he's even had a bite of food! Hsin-mei' s been writing letters to me almost every other day. I needn't repeat what's in the letters, but they all say he's losing sleep. I get so sick of reading them! Who told him to lose sleep? What's that got to do with me? I am not a doctor!" She knew perfectly well his losing sleep had quite a bit to do with her without having to ask a doctor's opinion. . "As the poem from the Book of Odes goes, 'The noble young lady, I Waking and sleeping he sought her; I He sought her but could not find her, I Waking and sleeping he longed for her. ' His letters are a manifestation of genuine Chinese culture," Hung-chien said with a grin. Glaring at him, Miss Su said, "Isn't it a pity he doesn't have your good fortune! You don't know how lucky you are. All you do is make fun of people with your wisecracks. I don't like that about you. Hung-chien, I wish you'd learn to be more kind. I' m really going to get after you about that in the future." He became speechless with fright. Miss Su had business to attend to at home, so she agreed to meet him that evening at the restaurant. He went back home and for the rest of the day remained glum and despondent, feeling he could no longer go on as before and must clarify his position to her as soon as possible. When Hung-chien reached the restaurant, the other two guests were already there. One was hunchbacked with a high forehead, large eyes, and a pale complexion. He was wearing a gold wire-rimmed pince-nez and a Western suit with cuffs covering his fingers. His face smooth, with neither a mustache nor wrinkles, he resembled an infantile old woman or an elderly child. The other guest had a very proud bearing. His nose was straight and
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high; his profile gave the impression of a ladder propped against his face. The bow tie at his neck was so large and neat that Hung-chien was struck with hopeless admiration. When Hsin-mei saw Hung-chien, he greeted him warmly. During the introductions, Hung-chien learned that the hunchback was the philosopher Ch' u Shen-ming and the other was Tung Hsieh-ch' iian, a former attache at the Chinese legation in Czechoslovakia. Transferred back to China, Tung had not yet been assigned a new post; he wrote excellent oldstyle poetry and was a great literary talent. Ch' u Shen-ming' s original name was Ch' u Chia-pao. After attaining fame he found Chia-pao {literally, family treasure) unsuitable for a philosopher and changed it, following the precedent set by Spinoza, to Shen-ming (literally, careful and clear), taken from the expression "consider carefully and argue clearly. " He was known as a child wonder, though some wondered about his sanity. He had refused to graduate from grade school, high school, or college, for he felt no teacher was good enough to teach or test him. He harbored a special hatred for women, and though extremely nearsighted, he had refused to be fitted for glasses for fear of getting a good look at women's faces. He always said that man's nature was composed of a natural humaneness and an animal disposition, and that he himself was all natural disposition. He was an avid reader of foreign philosophical journals, and if he came across the addresses of any worldrenowned philosophers, he would write them saying how much he enjoyed their works. He culled his praise of their works from the review sections of philosophy journals and added a word here or deleted a word there and passed everything off as his own opinion. In the intellectual world, Western philosophers are the biggest whiners; they don't wield the experts' authority as scientists nor do they enjoy as much popular fame as men of letters. So, when suddenly from thousands of miles away came a letter of praise, needless to say they were so thrilled that they nearly forgot philosophy. China, as they saw it, was a primitive country, heaven knows how mean and backward, and yet here was a Chinese who wrote with sense. In their replies to Ch' u Shenming, they praised him as the founder of a new philosophy of China and even sent him books. If he wrote them again, however, he rarely received any more replies. The reason was that these vain old men would show off his first letter among their colleagues only to find that everyone else had received a similar letter and had been similarly called "the greatest philosopher of modern times." Inevitably they became angry and disappointed. With some thirty or forty of these replies, Ch' u Shen-ming had awed innumerable people. One wealthy, talent-loving official spent ten thousand ounces of gold to send him abroad. The only Western philosopher who did not respond to his letter was Henri Bergson, who dreaded having strangers come pester him and kept his
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address confidential and his telephone number unlisted. After Ch' u Shenming arrived in Europe, Ch' u, in a last-ditch effort, sent a letter to Bergson to make an appointment for a visit, but to his chagrin the letter came back unopened. From then on, he bitterly hated lntuitivism. On the other hand, Bergson' s rival, Bertrand Russell, was willing to humor the Chinese and therefore invited him over for tea. From then on Ch' u studied mathematical logic. When Ch' u went abroad, for the sake of convenience, he had to wear glasses, and so it happened that his attitude toward women gradually • changed. Though he loathed women and could smell them three doors away, he desired them, which was why his nose was so sharp. His mind was filled with them. If he came upon the expression a posteriori in mathematical logic, he would think of "posterior, " and when he came across the mark "X" he would think of a kiss. Luckily he had never made a careful study of Plato' s dialogues with Timaeus; otherwise he would be dazed by every "X" mark. Now he was translating into English a work on the Chinese view of life written by the official who sent him abroad. Every month he drew out a sum of money from the National Bank for living expenses and lived a very leisurely life. Tung Hsieh-ch' iian' s father, Tung 1-sun, was an old scholar who had served as an official for the Republic of China but had not forgotten the former Manchu regime. Hsieh-ch' iian himself was quite gifted and wrote old-style poetry in the same way his father did. A country of active scholar-generals, China is unlike France, which, if it had one or two generals capable of wielding a pen, would want them to be revered at the National Academy. While Hsieh-ch' iian' s military strategems were not too different from those of most scholar-generals, his poetry, even if it hadn' t been the work of a scholar-general, would still have been considered quite good. But writing can reduce one to poverty. He never had much luck as an official, even though this was not nec~ssarily a misfortune for the soldiers. As a military attache, instead of discussing military affairs, he criticized his superiors and peers for their literary incompetence, and for this reason he was transferred back to China. Shortly after his return, he decided to look for another job. Fang Hung-chien viewed Tung Hsieh-ch' iian as a very distinguished individual, so when he heard Chao Hsin-mei say Hsieh-ch' iian was the son of a famous father, he was overwhelmed and said, "Mr. 1-sun is well known both at home and abroad. Mr. Tung lives up to his distinguished heritage a man of both literary and military talents." He thought this would be considered the highest form of praise. Tung Hsieh-ch' iian said, "My poetic style is different from my father's. In his youth he followed wrong models. Even now he still hasn't gotten away from the styles of Huang Chung-tse and Kung Ting-an of the Ch' ien-lung and
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scholars, which was either unrestrained £unmaking - the dallying behavior toward prostitutes or eyes directed at the nose and the nose pointed toward the heart, not daring a level gaze the courtesy toward the female members of a friend ' s family. Philosopher Ch ' u eyed Miss Su greedily, his pupils nearly imitating the German philosopher Schelling's "Absolute," which was "like a bullet shot from a pistol" , bursting from his eyesockets with doublebarreled action and shattering his glasses. Hsin-mei said, "I also invited Mrs. Tung, but Mr. Tung said she was too busy to come. Mrs. Tung is a beauty and a good painter. She and Hsieh-ch' lian make a perfect couple." Hsieh-ch' lian observed objectively, "My wife is rather pretty, and her painting is quite professional in style. The inscription on her painting, the 'Setting Sun Buddhist Temple, ' can be found in many collections owned by the older generation. When we returned from a visit to the Dragon Tree Temple, she painted a scroll of it on which my father inscribed two ch' ichiieh poems. The best two couplets were: 'Who remains of the scholars of Chen-yliau times? On countless Buddhist huts shines the setting sun of old. ' Indeed, the old masters grow fewer by the day, and there seems to be a decline of talented writers. 'No need to go back to the time of K' ang-hsi and Ch'ien-lung. Turn around and already the T' ung-chih and Kuang-hsli seem lost. ' "As he spoke he shook his head and sighed sadly. Never having heard anything like this before, Fang Hung-chienwas quite intrigued, though he wondered how someone that young and Westernized could sound so much as though he lived in a bygone era. Maybe it came from imitating the poetry written in the T' ung-kuang style. Hsin-mei invited everyone to go in and be seated. He poured Miss Su a glass of French grape juice and said laughingly, "This is exclusively for you; we have our own liquor. Today at the table we have Shen-ming, a philosopher. You and Hsiehch' lian are both poets. Mr. Fang is a philosopher and a poet both combined in one, which is even more impressive. I myself don't have any talent. All I can do is drink a few swallows of wine. Mr. Fang, I ' ll drink two catties of wine with you today. Hsieh-ch' lian has a big drinking capacity, too." Fang Hung-chien gave a start and said, "Who said I am a philosopher and poet? And I can't drink either, not a single drop. " With his hand on the liquor bottle, Hsin-mei scanned the table and said, "Today whoever declines out of politeness will be fined two glasses. All right?" "Agreed!" said Hsieh-ch'lian. "With such good wine as that, they're getting off easy. "
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Finding he was unable to put a stop to it, Hung-chien said, "Mr. Chao, I really can't drink. How about giving me some grape juice, too?" Hsin-mei said, "Whoever heard of a returned student from France who can't drink? Grape juice is a lady's drink. Shen-ming doesn't drink because of his neurasthenia. He's an exception. Don' t be polite. " With a smile, Hsieh-ch' iian said, "Since you don' t have 'a face that could overthrow a kingdom or topple a city ' like Miss Wen-wan, and your body isn't 'full of aches and pains' like Mr. Shen-ming, I think you should 'get drunk while there' s wine. ' All right, empty one glass first. If not a glass, then half a glass. " Miss Su said, "Apparently Hung-chien doesn't drink. Since Hsin-mei is so insistent, why not oblige him by drinking just a little bit?" When Hsin-mei sensed Miss Su' s protectiveness of Hung-chien, he wished every drop of liquor in Hung-chien's glass would tum to kerosene. Though Hsin-mei' s wish did not come true, Hung-chien, after just one swallow, already felt a line of fire stretching from the tip of his tongue down to the middle of his diaphragm. Shen-ming was only drinking tea, and his cup was still empty. The waiter brought a large bottle of Grade A P' o-nai milk and said that the milk had already been warmed in water. Hsin-mei gave the bottle to Shen-ming. "You pour your own. I won't stand on ceremony with you." Shen-ming poured out a glass, and pursing up his lips he took a taste of it. "Neither too hot nor too cold, just right," he said. He then took out a bottle of some kind of foreign medicine from his pocket, counted out four pills, put them in his mouth, and drank them down with a swallow of milk. Miss Su remarked, "Mr. Ch' u really knows how to take care of himself. " Shen-ming heaved a breath and said, "How much nicer it would be if a man had no body but was all mind. I' m not really guarding my health. I'm just babying it so it won't give me any trouble Hsin-mei, this milk is quite fresh." Hsin-mei said, "I didn't tell a lie, did I? I know you. After the milk was delivered to my home, I kept it cold in the refrigerator. Since you take fresh milk so seriously, when I get a chance, I ' ll take you to see our friend Miss Hsii, who runs a dairy, and ask her to let you suck your fill every day directly from the cow. I brought all the grape juice, wine, and milk we're having today myself rather than ask the restaurant to provide them. Wenwan, after dinner, I have a box for you. Something you like. " Miss Su said, "What is it? Oh, you're going to make me get another headache." Fang Hung-chien said, "I didn't know what you liked. Next time I can .. get some f or you too.
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"Wen-wan, don't tell him," said Hsin-mei in a haughty, jealous tone. Miss Su apologized for her special taste. "When I was abroad I had a yen for Cantonese duck gizzard, but it wasn't easy to get. Last year when I got back, my brother bought some for me. I chewed so much that my temples became sore for days. Now you want to tempt me again." Hung-chien observed, " Chicken and duck gizzards are never used in Western dishes. In London I saw whole boxes of chicken and duck gizzards selling so cheaply they hardly cost anything. People bought them to feed their cats. " Hsin-mei said, "The English don't eat half the stuff Americans do. When it comes to food, foreigners are cowards; they don't dare take risks, not like we Chinese, who' ll try any kind of meat. The main thing in their cooking is seasoning, while ours is frying, together with other vegetables. This is why their soups are so tasteless. They' ll boil chicken for a while, then throw out the soup and just eat the meat. It's really a joke." "Isn't it a shame?" said Hung-chien. "When tea first went abroad, people would put a whole pound of it in a pot of water and bring it to a boil, then throw out the water, add salt and pepper, and just eat the leaves." They all laughed. Hsieh-ch' tian said, "That's just like the joke about Fan Fan-shan using chicken broth to make Lung-ching tea. That old family friend of ours, while serving as an official in Peking during the early years of the Kuang-hsti reign [about 1875], received a can of coffee from someone who had just returned from abroad. He thought it was snuff and rubbed off the skin of his nostrils with it. There's a poem in his collection about it. " Hung-chien said, "Mr. Tung does indeed come from an illustrious family! We're hearing all kinds of anecdotes today. " Shen-ming pressed down his pince-nez, cleared his throat, and said, "Mr. Fang, what was it you were asking me that time?" "When?" asked Hung-chien, bewildered. "Before Miss Su came." Hung-chien could not recall- "It seems you were asking me what philosophical questions I was studying, weren't you?" To this usual question, Ch' u Shen-ming had a pat answer. Since Miss Su had not yet arrived, he had waited until now to show off. "Oh , yes, yes. " " Strictly speaking, your statement has a slight fallacy. When a philosopher encounters a question, his first step is to study the question. Is it a question or not? If it's not, then it's a pseudo-question which needn't and can't be solved. If it is a question, his second step is to study the solution. Is the traditional solution correct or should it be revised? You probably meant to ask not what question am I studying, but what question am I studying the
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some other being had occupied his body and was doing all the talking. "As for Bertie's marriages and divorces," said Shen-ming, "I've talked with him about them. He quoted an old English saying that marriage is like a gilded bird cage. The birds outside want to get in, and the birds inside want to fly out. So you have marriage and divorce, divorce and marriage in endless . .. successiOn. Miss Su said, "There's a French saying similar to that. Instead of a bird cage, it's a fortress under siege ( forteresse assiegee) . The people outside the city want to break in and the people inside the city want to escape. Right, Hung-chien?" Hung-chien shook his head to indicate he did not know. Hsin-mei said, " You needn ' t ask. You sounded as if you could be , .. wrong. Shen-ming said, "Whether it ' s a bird cage or a besieged fortress, Someone like me who's detached from everything has no fear of a siege. " Under the influence of alcohol, Hung-chien had lost his self-control, as he blurted out, "Anyway, you could always pull the ' empty-town bluff. ' " Hsin-mei fined him another half glass of wine, while Miss Su warned him not to talk so much. Hsieh-ch ' iian, deep in thought, said suddenly, " Oh, yes. Among Chinese philosophers, Wang Yang-ming was henpecked." This was the first person he had not referred to that day as an "old family friend. " Hsin-mei quickly cut in, "Weren't there any others? Mr. Fang, you tell us. You've studied Chinese literature." Hung-chien said hurriedly, "That was a long time ago, and I was never very good at it in the first place." Hsin-mei gave Miss Su a happy wink; she suddenly looked very dumb, appearing to see nothing. "Who were your Chinese professors in college?" Hsieh-ch' iian asked without interest. Hung-chien searched his mind for the names of his Chinese teachers, but couldn' t think of a single worthy one, like Bertie or Ch' en San-yiian, names which could be rolled around on the tongue and .shown off like a quality Havana cigar. "They were all nobodies, " he said, "yet much too good to teach such a lousy student as myself. Hsieh-ch' iian, I really don't know the first thing about poetry. I read it now and then, but if you were to ask me to write a poem, I wouldn't know where to begin." Miss Su hated the way Hung-chien had debased himself and wanted very much to make him look good. Smiling scornfully, Hsieh-ch' iian asked, "Did you read the poetry of Su Man-shu and Huang Kung-tu?" 185
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"Why?" "That's what an ordinary returned student can appreciate, the poetry of the ehr-mao-tzu. Students returning from Japan worship Su Man-shu; Western returned students admire Huang Kung-tu. Am I wrong? Of the two, Huang Kung-tu is slightly better than Su Man-shu, whose Japanese flavor is as thick as the hair oil in Japanese women's heads. " Miss Su said, "I'm an ordinary returned student, too, and I don't know who writes the best old-style poetry today. Tell us something about it, Mr. T ung. " "Ch' en San-yUan is of course number one. In the last five or six hundred years, he stands way above the rest. I always say the great poets since the T' ang can be grouped under geographical terms; the hills (Ling), the valleys (Ku), the mountains (Shan), and the plains (Yuan). There are three Lings:Tu Shao-ling, Wang Kuang-ling, and do you know him? Mei ' YUan-ling; two Kus: Li Ch' ang-ku, and Huang Shan-ku; four Shans: Li 1shan, Wang Pan-shan, Ch' en Hou-shan, and YUan 1-shan; but only one YUan, Ch' en San-yUan." He raised his left thumb as he spoke. Hung-chien asked sheepishly, "Couldn't you add a bank ( P' o) ?" "Su T ung-p ' o. H e ' sa b"1t 1ack"mg. " Hung-chien clicked his tongue in surprise. If Su Tung-p' o' s poetry doesn' t meet with his esteem , he thought, heaven only knows how superb this man 's poetry must be. He asked to see the poems Hsieh-ch' Uan had just written, and so did Miss Su, for only someone who writes old-style poetry would ever say he doesn't read new-style poetry, and a new-style poet never willingly admits that he doesn' t understand old-style poetry. Hsieh-ch' Uan distributed four or five sheets of paper among those at the table and leaned back haughtily in his chair, feeling nonetheless that none of these people understood poetry and could not possibly appreciate the subtle nuances in his lines. Even if they praised him, their praise wouldn't be sincere or to the point. Yet he was waiting for their praise, despite the knowledge that he wouldn't be satisfied with it; it was like finding a pack of cigarettes when one craves opium. On the sheets were seven or eight modern poems written in a familiar tone. The poem on returning home after his resignation as military attache went as follows: "Happily I write a poem on returning home to see my wife' s dimples, I Remorseful that the sound of my name stops my son ' s tears. " His poem of indignation over the Sino-Japanese War read: "Keep suspecting that heaven is still drunk, I And wants to perish with the sun [Japan]. " In addition, there were the following: "The fresh breezes need not be bought, I The gay rain is just enough to close up ten thousand homes." . . . . . "Cold currents rinse over jagged rocks. I Evening breezes flow through
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billowing pines. " ..... "Not permitted to escape men, I think of escaping the world,/ Alone I maintain a lingering intoxication and delight in the withering flowers. "But then there were a few lines like, "Washed out eyes, bright and empty, provide the sleeping duck. /The squirming bosom, strange and mysterious, lures the hidden snake. " ..... "Several companions are carried seeking historicallandmarks. /The wailing reeds and bitter bamboo shine on mournful sorrow. " ..... "In the autumn air, light of body, a goose is passing. /Temple hair, flickering shadows, ten thousand crows are peeking. " ..... The meaning was quite obscure. Hung-chien had never read San-yiian Ching-she shih , and he racked his brains for the etymological sources of these lines. The reeds and bamboo certainly hadn't caught fire, he thought, so it wasn' t very likely they could shine on anything, and besides "mournful sorrow" was something not even a searchlight could illuminate. "Several companions" clearly indicated the friends weren 't children, so how could they be "carried?" If ten thousand crows took a liking to the poet ' s few strands of grey hair, surely it wasn ' t so "tousled like a crow ' s nest" that they would want to roost on his head. He was quite puzzled but did not dare ask questions for fear Hsieh-ch' tian would laugh at his ignorance. Everyone duly praised the poems. Hsieh-ch' tian responded with bored politeness, like a ruler being welcomed by the people. Hsin-mei said to Hungchien, "Why don't you write a few poems to show us what poetry is?" Hungchien replied emphatically that he could not write poetry. Hsieh-ch' tian said if Hung-chien really couldn't, they needn't force him. Hsin-mei said, "Then everyone drink a toast to Hsieh-ch ' tian ' s fine poetry. " Hoping to give the wine an unobstructed passage over his tongue and down his throat, Hungchien gulped it straight down as though letting it pass toll-free. It felt as if everything in his stomach had been churned up by that swallow of wine and was about to come rushing up, like an already plugged toilet given an extra flush. He hastily set down his glass and tightly clenched his teeth together, trying to use his will power to suppress the flow . Miss Su said, "I've never seen Mrs. Tung before, but I can imagine she must be very beautiful. Mr. Tung' s poem, ' I returned home and saw my wife's dimples,' vividly pictures Mrs. Tung's channing smile and her two deep dimples. " Chao Hsin me said, "It isn' t enough for Hsieh-ch' tian just to have a lovely wife. He has to flaunt his good fortune in his poetry so we bachelors go red-eyed with envy when we read it." With that he looked shamelessly at Miss Su, emboldened by the wine.
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Ch' u Shen-ming said, "He's the only one who can see the dimples on his wife's face. Now that he's written about them in his poem, we can all look at them as much as we want. " Hsieh-ch' iian could not very well show his irritation. Stiffening his expression, he said, "There's no point discussing poetry with such ignorant people like you in the first place. I used two allusions in that couplet, one from Mei Sheng-yii in the first line and another from Yang Ta-yen in the second. If you don' t know the original source, don ' t try to force an .1nterpretat10n . on 1t. . " Hsin-me poured the wine as he said, "Sorry, sorry! We'll fine ourselves a glass. Mr. Fang, you should have recognized the allusion. You're not like us! How come you didn't have the faintest idea about it either? You're fined two glasses. Come on. " . "That's nonsense," snapped Hung-chien. "Why should I know it any more t han you.? " Since Hsieh-ch' tian' s rebuke about their ignorance had included her, Miss Su was quite peeved and said, "I don' t have the vaguest idea about it either, but I'm not going to drink that glass of wine." Affected by the wine, Hsin-mei would brook no restraint from Miss Su, insisting, "You can ignore the fine, but he must drink a glass. I'll drink with him." As he spoke he poured Hung-chien a full glass, picked up his own, drank it down in one gulp, then held up the empty glass for Hung-chien to see. Hung-chien said resolutely, " I ' ll finish this one, but beyond that I won ' t touch another drop even if you kill me. " He lifted the glass and poured it straight down his throat. When it was all gone, he held the glass up to Hsin-mei, saying, "It's fore the word "empty" had left his mouth, he clenched his teeth together and rushed and stumbled to the spittoon. With an "Augh" the food and wine gushed from his mouth. He never thought there could be so much in his stomach, and the vomiting continued till he was out of breath. Out came mucus, tears, and stomach juices, and he was occupied with the thought, What a disgrace ! Thank God Miss T' ang isn ' t here. Though he had cleared his stomach, the feeling of disgust did not stop. He sat down at the tea table unable to raise his head. His clothes were splattered with drops of dirty spittle. Miss Su was about to approach him when he wearily made a gesture to stop her. While he was in the worst throes of vomiting, Hsin-mei had patted his back for him. Hsieh-ch' tian called the waiter to clean the floor and bring a towel, while he went ahead and poured a glass of tea for Hung-chien to rinse his mouth. Holding his nose, Ch' u Shen-ming opened all the windows. An expression of scorn showed all over his face, but inwardly he 191
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was rejoicing at the thought that Hung-chien's vomit had washed the incident of his spilt milk from everyone ' s memory. When Hsieh-ch' i.ian saw Fang Hung-chien was a little better, he said with a smile, "Spitting by the railing no one knows its fragrance. Here you haven't even finished eating and you're already in a hurry to give a return dinner! Never mind! You'll throw up for all you're worth a few more times; then you' ll learn to hold your wine. " Hsin-mei said, "He's proved he really can't drink. Let's just hope it's not true that he can't write poetry or that he doesn't understand philosophy. " Miss Su declared heatedly, "You just make light of everything. It's all your fault; you made him drunk. If he gets sick tomorrow, then we'll see what a disgraceful host you are. Hung-chien, how do you feel now?" She felt his forehead with her fingers. While watching them, Hsin-mei regretted he never took up Chinese boxing; otherwise, he could have given Hung-chien a fatal injury when he slapped Hung-chien on the back. Turning his head away Hung-chien said, "It's nothing. I have a slight headache. Hsin-mei, I'm sorry about today. I've spoiled it for everyone. Please go on eating. I '11 go home now. In a few days I'll go to your place and apologize. " Miss Su said, "Stay a while. Wait until your headache stops before you go. " Hsin-mei wished he could have thrown Hung-chien out then and there. He then asked, "Who has some Tiger Balm? Shen-ming, you carry medicine around with you. Do you have any Tiger Balm?" Shen-ming pulled out a bunch of bottles and boxes from the pockets of his trousers and overcoat. Among them were pills, tablets, and plasters for soothing the throat, improving the brain, strengthening the lungs, aiding digestion, easing constipation, inducing perspiration, and killing pain; Miss Su picked out the Tiger Balm, dabbed a little on her finger and applied it to Hung-chien' s temples. The wine in Hsin-mei ' s stomach turned to sour vinegar in his jealousy. Momentarily restraining himself he asked Hung-chien, "Feel any better? I better not keep you today. Some other day I'll ask you out again to make up for it. I'll have someone call a cab to take you home." "No need to call a cab," said Miss Su. "He can go in my car. I'll take him home." Hsin-mei' s eyes widened in surprise and he stammered, "You ' re, you're not eating? There' s still more food. " Hung-chien limply implored Miss Su not to see him home. Miss Su said, "I've had enough. There are so many dishes today. Mr.
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Ch'u, Mr. Tung, please take your time. I'll go on. Thank you, Hsin-mei." With a sad face Hsin-mei watched Miss Su and Hung-chien get in the car and drive off. His plan to make a fool of Hung-chien in front of Miss Su had almost been a complete success, but that success only confirmed his defeat. Hung-chien leaned back against the car cushions. Miss Su asked him if he wanted his tie loosened, but he shook his head. She told him to close his eyes and rest a bit. From his self-imposed dark world, he felt Miss Su' s cool fingers touch his forehead and heard her mutter in French, "Pauvre petit!" He hadn't the strength to jump up in protest. When the car reached the Chous, Miss Su ordered the Chous' doorman to help her chauffeur take Hungchien inside. By the time Mr. and Mrs. Chou had come dashing out all agog to meet Miss Su and to invite her in for a moment, her car had already sped off. They had no way to satisfy their curiosity and could not very well question Hung-chien, who lay in bed with his head covered. Instead, they gave the doorman a thorough interrogation; annoyed that he lacked any power of observation, they reproached him for not being able to use his eyes. Why hadn't he given Miss Su a careful scrutiny? The next morning, Fang Hung-chien woke up early, with a sawing pain in his head, and his tongue feeling like the coir doormat for wiping one' s shoes before entering the house. He lay in bed until the afternoon when he finally got out of bed and his mind cleared enough to write Miss T' ang a letter. Skipping the events of the day before, he merely wrote he was ill; and thinking back on the events of yesterday, he began to feel very awkward with regard to Miss Su. She had called in the morning and again in the afternoon to ask about him. After dinner, he decided that since he had been inactive all day, he would take a moonlight stroll. Then Miss Su called once more to ask if he felt better and if he would care to go to her house in the evening for a chat. It was the fifteenth day of the fourth month by the lunar calendar. The late-spring, early-summer moon was for lovers, while the autumn-winter moon was for poets. A full moon in the sky, Hung-chien wished he could have gone to see Miss T' ang. Instead he went to the Sus. Miss Su' s mother and sister-in-law had gone to the movies, and the servants for a walk, leaving Miss Su and the doorman at home. When she saw Hung-chien, she said that she had intended to go to the movies too and told him to have a seat while she went upstairs to put on an extra piece of clothing, so they could go into the garden to admire the moon. When she came down, he caught a fresh whiff of a fragrance he had not smelled a moment ago and noted that she not only had changed her clothes but had also put on some make up. She led him into a small sextagonal pavilion; they sat down against the railing. Suddenly he realized how compromising the situation was. He mustn't let himself get •
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caught in the trap that day and end up regretting it ever after. He thanked Miss Su again. She inquired once more about his sleep and appetite. After the bright, white moon overhead had been praised three or four times, there was little else to say. They continued to gaze at the moon. He stole a glance at Miss Su' s face, which was so bright and pure that it seemed the moonlight splashed over it would slide right off. The moonlight was flashing in her eyes too. Her red lips, undimmed by the aura of the moon, appeared moist and dark in the shade. She knew he had his eyes on her and turned to smile at him. His determination to resist this seductive force was like a fish out of water, which flaps its head and tail about on the ground but can ' t get anywhere. He stood up and said, "Wen-wan, I must go." "It's early yet. What's the hurry? Stay a while," she said, pointing to the spot next to her where he had just been sitting. "I'm going to sit a little further away. You're too beautiful! The moon might trick me into doing something foolish. " Her light, smooth laughter gave his heart a painful twinge. "Are you so afraid of doing something foolish? Sit down. I don't want you sitting so stiff and proper. We' re not in church listening to a sermon. Tell me, what would it take for an intelligent person like you to do something foolish?" she turned toward him and asked mischievously. He lowered his head, not daring to look at her. But his ears and nose were irresistibly full of her, and the image of her smile floated in his mind like a leaf spinning in a whirlpool. "I haven't the courage to do anything foolish. " She smiled triumphantly and said in a low voice, "Embrasse-moi ! " As soon as the words were out of her mouth she was at once abashed and surprised at her own courage to be foolish, but then she only dared order him to kiss her while hiding behind a foreign language. Having no way to escape, he turned his head and kissed her. The kiss was so light and covered such a small area, it was like the way a Mandarin host brushed his lips against the brim of the teacup as a subtle hint to a guest who had overstayed his welcome in the Ch' ing Dynasty, or else it was like the way a witness taking the oath in court in the West touched the Bible to his lips. At most it was similar to the way female disciples kissed the Living Buddha of Tibet or the Pope's big toe - a kind of respectful intimacy. When the kiss was over, Miss Su pillowed her head on Hung-chien' s shoulder and breathed a gentle sigh like a child sleeping sweetly. He didn't dare move an inch. After a long while, she sat up straight as if waking from a dream and said with a smile, "That queer old moon. It' s really turned us all into fools. " "And it tempted me into committing an unforgivable sin! I can't stay any longer." His one and only fear at that moment was that she might bring •
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up the subject of engagement and marriage and start discussing future plans with him. What he didn't know was that in the joy and triumph of love, women never think of such things. There must be doubts before they will demand the man to hurry along with the engagement and marriage so their love will have a safeguard. " I won' t let you go well , all right , go ahead. I ' ll see you tomorrow. " When Miss Su saw the expression on Hung-chien' s face, she thought his emotions were so stirred up that he might lose his self-control and so did not dare keep him. He sprinted out the gate, still believing that his kiss on her lips a moment ago had been so light, it could not possibly be construed as evidence that he loved her, as though kissing were something to be measured by weight. Miss Su' s eyes followed him out, while she remained seated in the pavilion. With joy in her heart and not a single well-formed thought except the two lines "Full moon in the sky, I And half the month gone by" in her mind, she wasn' t sure if it was an old saying or her own inspiration of the moment. It was the middle of April. What would happen by mid-August? she wondered. "The belly of a pregnant woman pasted to the heavens," she recollected a line of Ts' ao Yiian-lang' s poem with an irrepressible feeling of disgust. Hearing the maids return, she rose and instinctively pulled out her handkerchief to wipe her mouth, as if the kiss might have left some mark behind. She felt the rest of the evening was just like standing on the edge of a diving board by the sea, and she could plunge into the next day's happiness with one leap. She was trembling with excitement. Fang Hung-chien arrived home, locked the door of his room, and tore up five or six drafts before he wrote out the following letter: Dear Wen-wan, I can't bring myself to see you again, so I am writing you this letter. Everything that has happened in the past right up until tonight is entirely my fault. I have no excuses and no way to explain. I couldn't ask for your forgiveness. I only hope you will quickly forget this weakling who lacks the courage to be frank. Because I sincerely respect you, I couldn't bear to insult your friendship. I don't deserve the kindness you have shown me in the last few months, but it will forever remain a cherished memory. Best wishes.
He felt shameful; he could not sleep well the whole night. When he arrived at the bank the next day he had a special messenger deliver the letter. He remained on pins and needles, fearful of further complications. Around eleven o'clock a bank trainee came to call him to the telephone, saying a Miss Su was on the phone. His legs went limp. As he picked up the receiver, he expected Miss Su' s abuse would be heard by everyone in the bank.
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In a very soft voice Miss Su said, "Hung-chien? I just got your letter. I haven't opened it yet. What does it say? If it's something nice, I' 11 read it; if not, I won't. I'll wait and open it in front of you to embarrass you." He was so horrified that his forehead nearly shrank into his eyebrows, as his eyebrows rose up to his hairline. He realized she had mistaken it to be a letter of proposal and was being pettish to give him a hard time. He said quickly, "Please read the letter right away. I beg you. " "In such a hurry! All right, I' ll read it then. You wait. Don' t hang up .... I've read it, but I don't understand what you mean. Come and explain it to me later. " "No, Miss Su, no. I don't dare see you " Unable to cover it up any longer, he said in a low voice, "I have another " How should I say it? Hell! The other employees are probably all listening in "I have anotheranother person." He finished as though getting rid of a heavy burden. "What? I can't hear you." Hung-chien shook his head and sighed. In his agitation he began speaking in fractured French. "Miss Su, let' s speak French. I love someone love another woman. Understand? Forgive me. I beg a thousand pardons. " "Why, you you rotten egg!" Miss Su cursed him in Chinese. Her voice seemed to have a quaver in it. Hung-chien felt as if her abuse had given him a heavy slap on his ear and in self-defense, he hung up the receiver. Miss Su' s voice continued to jar his consciousness. At noon he went to eat at a small Western-style restaurant in the neighborhood, afraid to speak to anybody. It suddenly occurred to him that she might kill herself from frustrated love, and he became too upset to eat. He hurried back to the bank and wrote a letter begging her forgiveness, asking her to take care of herself. He gave himself a thorough smirching and declared he wasn' t worth a copper. He entreated her not to keep loving him. After sending the letter, he relaxed a little and began to feel hungry, so he went out again to get something to eat. At around four or five o'clock when his colleagues were all getting ready to leave, he decided he was in no mood that day to go see Miss T' ang. Meanwhile, the mail office gave him a telegram, and he was terrified, thinking it must be Miss Su' s suicide note. Who could be sending him a telegram? He opened it and found that it had been sent from P' ing-ch' eng, which seemed to be a county in Hunan. His alarm abated but his curiosity increased. He quickly got a telegraph code book and transcribed it as follows: "Offer position as possessor. Monthly salary $ 340 plus travel expenses. Please ware reply. National San Lti University President Kao Sung-nien." "Passessor " was a m1sta . k e for " pro f essor " and " ware rep1y " must be "wire
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reply." He had never heard of San Lti University. It must be a new university established since the war. He had no idea who Kao Sung-nien was or in which department he would serve as professor. But the fact that a national university did not consider it too far to go a thousand miles to offer him a job was a real boost to his status; for after only one year of war, a national university professor still held an enviable position among the salaried classes. He learned from Chief-secretary Wang that P' ing-ch' eng was indeed in Hunan. Wang asked to see the telegram and congratulated him for getting the recognition he deserved, observing that the Golden Touch Bank was a small place, and "the flood dragon is no mere creature of the ponds." Wang also said that a professorship at this National San Lti University was equivalent to the presidential appointment rank in the civil service. When Hung-chien heard this, his spirits rose. This news signified a real change of luck, he thought. He should have no trouble getting Miss T' ang to marry him now. That day certainly deserved to be commemorated as the end of old entanglements and the beginning of new opportunities. That evening Hung-chien told Mr. and Mrs. Chou about his job offer. Mr. Chou was pleased, his only reservation being that P' ing-ch' eng was too remote. Hung-chien said that he hadn't made up his mind. Mrs. Chou said she realized he would have to ask Su Wenwan' s permission first; she remarked further that a traditional couple as close as Hung-chien and Miss Su were would have gotten married long ago. The modern couple who were full of the "Oh, my heart, my flesh," sort of intimacy before ever getting married probably found that once the initial sweetness wore off, things didn't turn out so well after marriage. Hung-chien laughed at her for only knowing about a Miss Su. "Don' t tell me there' s someone else besides?" she asked. Beaming with satisfaction, Hung-chien replied glibly that he would tell her more within three days. A pang of jealousy for her deceased daughter made her say, "I can' t see how someone like you could be such a sought-after piece of juicy meat!" Hung-chien did not bother to counter this coarse remark, and returning to his room he wrote the following letter: Dear Hsia
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wrote "me," but there's good reason for such a slip of the pen. Do you know why? To put it simply, I've already practiced that sentence a thousand times in my head. I just wish I could invent a fresh and fleeting expression that only I could say and only you could hear, so that after I've spoken it and you've heard it, it would vanish and in the past, present or future there would never be another man using the same expression to another woman. I'm so sorry that to you who are without equal in the whole world, I can only use cliches which have been worked to death for thousands of years to express my feelings. Will you permit me to say it? l really don't dare be presumptuous. You don't know how much I fear your anger.
Early the next morning, Hung-chien told Mr. Chou ' s chauffeur to deliver the letter. In the afternoon he left the bank and went to the T' angs. As the rickshaw reached the door, he saw to his horror and dismay that Miss Su' s car was there also. Miss Su' s chauffeur tipped his cap to him, saying, "You've come at just the right time. Young Lady arrived not more than a few moments ago." Hung-chien lied, "I was only passing by. I won't go in." And he turned and went home. A lie of glass, thin and transparent, he thought. The chauffeur must certainly be laughing to himself. Would Miss Su spread malicious tales and ruin everything for me? But she doesn ' t necessarily know I am in love with Miss T' ang. And anyway, she would only disgrace herself by telling everything that has happened in the last six months . Consoling himself in this manner, he stopped worrying. The next day he waited in vain, for there was no letter from Miss T' ang. The day after when he went to see her, the maid said she was not in. By the fifth day when there was still no letter, and two fruitless visits, he became so nervous he lost both his sleep and appetite. He recited his letter over and over ten or fifteen times, weighing each word carefully in his mind, but could find nothing that might give offense. Maybe she still wanted to go back to college. He was eight or nine years older than she, and if he fell in love, that meant he'd want to get married right away. He couldn't wait for her to finish college. Maybe that was what made her hesitant. If she would just say she loved him, then whenever she wanted to get married would be fine. He could certainly "keep chaste." All right, he'd write another letter and ask to see her on Sunday, the next day. Everything would be as she decreed. That night it grew very windy, and the next day a light rain fell, followed by a heavy downpour which continued without let-up into the afternoon. Hung-chien, bracing himself against the rain, went to the \ T' angs. To his surprise, Miss T ' ang was at horne. He sensed something strange in the maid's manner but ignored it. As soon as he saw Miss T' ang he could tell she was very aloof and without a trace of her usual smile. In her hand was a large paper bundle. His courage completely gone, he said, "I've
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come by twice, but you weren't home. Did you get my Monday letter?" "Yes, I did. Mr. Fang," her reverting back to the original form of address made him breathless "I heard you also came by on Tuesday. Why didn't you come in? I was home then. " "Miss T' ang, " he too returned to the old form of address "how did you know I came by on Tuesday?" "My cousin's chauffeur saw you and was surprised you didn't come in. He told my cousin and she told me. You should have come in that day; we were talking about you. " "What's there to discuss about me?" "We weren't just discussing you; we were studying you. We found your behavior quite mysterious." "What's so mysterious about me?" "You don't think you're mysterious? Of course, to na"ive girls like myself, you're inscrutable. I've known about your gift of gab for some time. You undoubtedly have a very convincing explanation for everything you've done. At the least, you ' 11 just say, ' I have no excuses and no way to explain, ' and people will certainly forgive you. Isn' t that so?" "What?" he asked with a start. "You saw the letter I wrote your cousin?" "My cousin showed it to me. She also told me everything that happened from the boat trip up until that evening. " Miss T' ang looked indignant; and Hung-chien did not dare look her straight in the eye. "What did she say about it?" he managed to ask. He was sure Su Wenwan had exaggerated everything, saying he had lured her and kissed -her, and he was prepared to counter lies with facts. "You mean you don't even know what you yourself did?" "Miss T' ang, let me explain " "If you have some 'way to explain,' then go tell it to my cousin first." Ordinarily Fang Hung-chien liked Miss T' ang for her quickness. Now he only wished she were slow-witted and less overbearing. "My cousin told me a few other things about you too, Mr. Fang. I don't know if they're true or not. The Chous, with whom you're now living, apparently aren't any ordinary relatives. They're your in-laws. You've been married before." Hung-chien tried to interrupt, but Miss T' ang was not the daughter of an attorney for nothing. She knew the secret of interrogating a witness in court and that's never let him argue "I don't need an explanation. Are they not your inlaws? If so, then that's all there is to it. Whether or not you were in love during the years you were abroad I have no idea. But on the boat trip home,
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you took a fancy to a Miss Pao and got on so well with her that you never left her side for a moment. Right? " Bung-chien lowered his head and said nothing. "Once Miss Pao left, you immediately went after my cousin, right up until I needn't go on. Moreover, it seems that while you studied in Europe, you got an American degree " Hung-chien stamped his foot in anger. "Have I ever boasted to you about my degree? That was a prank." "You're an intelligent person. You have a little fun now and then, but dunces like us take all your jokes seriously. " When Miss T' ang heard Fang Hung-chien choke back a sob, her heart softened. But at that moment the greater the pity she felt in her heart, the more resentful she became and the more she felt like really attacking him. "Mr. Fang, your past is too rich. I want to be able to occupy the whole life of the man I love. Before meeting me, he would have had no past and would be waiting for me with a clean slate." Hung-chien kept his head down and remained silent "I hope you will have a bright future, Mr. Fang. " Hung-chien' s mind and body went numb as though an electric current had passed through him. Only aware that Miss T' ang was speaking to him, he was in no state to try to comprehend the meaning of her words. It was as though his mind were covered with a layer of oilpaper, and her words were like raindrops. Though they couldn't soak through the oil paper, it still shook under the beating rain. The last remark made everything hopelessly clear to him, and he raised his head, his eyes brimming with tears like a big child who has been spanked and scolded ce in which the tears have been swallowed into the heart. Miss T' ang' s nose suddenly stung. "You're right. I am a fraud. I won't argue any more or come to bother you again." He stood up to go. Miss T' ang wished she could have said. Why don' t you defend yourself? I would believe you . But, instead, she merely said, "Well, goodbye, then. " She saw him out, hoping he had something else to say. It was raining heavily outside. As she reached the door, she seriously thought of asking him to stay until the rain died down. Putting on his raincoat, he glanced at her and was too benumbed to shake her hand. When she noticed his glistening eyes that had been washed over by his tears, she lowered her eyes, unable to look at him. Mechanically, she stretched out her hand and said, "Goodbye." Sometimes "Won't you stay a while longer?" will drive a person away; sometimes "Goodbye" will hold him back. Miss T' ang couldn't hold Fang Hung-chien back, so she added, "I wish you bon voyage." She returned to her bedroom. The rage of a moment ago having completely vanished, she felt tired and remorseful. The maid came in and said, "Mr. Fang is acting strange. Standing on the other side of the street, •
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he's getting drenched in the rain." She hurried to the window to look. Sure enough, Hung-chien was standing with his back to the road outside the bamboo fence of the house diagonally opposite. Like whips of water, windblown lines of rain from all directions lashed at his unresponsive body. As she watched, her heart melted into bitter water. If he, after another minute, still stood there, she thought, she would risk the ridicule of others and tell the maid to invite him back in. The minute lasted forever, and she could hardly wait it out and was just about to give the order to her maid when Hung-chien suddenly whirled around. Like a dog shaking out its hair, he shook himself as if trying to shake away all the rain in the vicinity and strode off. Miss T' ang regretted having believed her cousin so much and in her anger spoken with such finality to him. She also began to worry that Hung-chien would become so despondent he might get run over by an automobile or trolley car. She checked her watch a few times; after an hour, she called up the Chous to ask about him. Hung-chien hadn' t come home yet. Alarmed, she grew more apprehensive. When dinner was over and the rain had stopped, not wishing her family to overhear, she slipped out to a neighborhood candy store to use the telephone. Confused and upset, she first dialed a wrong number; dialing a second time, all she heard was the telephone ringing at the other end. For a long time no one answered. The three members of the Chou family had all gone out visiting. Hung-chien, who had been sitting in a stupor in a small coffee shop up until this time, finally went home. The moment he entered the house the maid told him Miss Su had called. He turned hot with rage and awoke from his benumbed state. He was just changing into dry clothes when the telephone rang. He ignored it. The maid ran up to get it and had no sooner picked it up than she said, "Mr. Fang, Miss Su is on the phone." With his sock half on and his left foot bare, Hung-chien ran from his room, grabbed the receiver, and not caring whether the maid heard or not, in a unfortunately he had caught a chill from his drenching in the hoarse voice rain and already had the beginnings of a stuffy nose, so his throat had lost its vigor said, "We' re already through, through! Do you hear? What' s the point of calling up again and again? It's really disgraceful! You' re just making trouble! I doubt if you' ll ever get married " He suddenly realized the other party had already hung up and nearly called Miss Su up again to force her to listen to his invective through to the end. The maid, who had been listening with great interest at the turn of the stairs, hurried into the kitchen to report. When Mi&'l T' ang heard "It' s really disgraceful," she quickly hung up the receiver, feeling faint. Barely managing to fight back the tears, she returned home. That evening as Fang Hung - chien thought over what had happened that 211
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day, he was swept by intermittent fever. He could hardly believe it was all real. After being picked apart piece by piece by Miss T' ang, he felt too vile and despicable to be a man. The next morning just after he had gotten up, Miss T' ang' s rickshaw boy came with a paper bundle, saying that Miss T' ang had asked for a package in return. He recognized the bundle as the one he saw yesterday. There was nothing written on it, but he guessed it was the letters he had written her. He knew very well she wouldn' t, yet he still hoped she had written a few lines, using the final moment of farewell to let their friendship draw out one more breath. He quickly opened the bundle which contained his old letters. Dejectedly he wrapped up her letters in the same paper and handed them to the rickshaw boy, who then departed. When Miss T' ang received the box wrapped up in the paper, she opened it with considerable curiosity. It was the gold-papered box of chocolate wafers, which she had sent Hung-chien. She knew her letters were in the box but didn't want to open it, as if not opening the box meant she still hadn' t completely severed relations with him, and opening it would prove beyond a doubt that she had broken off. She sat in a daze like this she knew not how long perhaps only a few seconds then opened the box and saw the seven letters she had sent him. The envelopes had all been torn and repaired with cellophane tape. She could imagine how in his impatience to read her letters he had torn the envelopes and then clumsily patched them up. An unbearable pain pierced her heart. She also discovered, lining the bottom of the box, a piece of paper with her address and telephone number on it and recalled writing them on the last blank page of his book when they first had dinner together. He had cut it out and stored it away like a treasure. As Miss T' ang sat musing over this, it suddenly occurred to her that his remarks over the telephone the day before might not have been meant for her at all. A month ago when she called him for the first time, one of the Chous had mistaken her for Miss Su, and the person answering her two calls the day before had known right away they were for Hung-chien without even asking her name. Now that their breakup had reached this stage, was this conjecture still worth verifying? Oh, just forget about Fang Hung-chien. But deep down she could not forget him. It was like the gum left empty and aching after a tooth is extracted, or like a small tree in a flower pot. To pull it up roots and all, one must smash the pot. Proud by nature, she preferred to endure the pain until she fell ill. During her illness, Miss Su visited her and kept her company everyday, telling her that she had become engaged to Ts' ao YUan-lang. In the throes of happiness Miss Su confided how Ts' ao YUan-lang had proposed to her. As the story went, at the age of fifteen Ts'ao Yi.ian-lang had resolved never to marry. The moment he met Miss Su, however, his views on life for •
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4 WHEN Fang hung-chien returned the letters to Miss T' ang, he was dazed and stupefied; some time later, he finally awoke as though from a faint, feeling a continuous pain in his heart. It was like the prickly pain a person feels when his limbs, after having gone numb from being curled up, are stretched out and the blood is once again circulating. The day before he hadn' t had time to feel the hurt he had swallowed in one lump. Now, like a cow chewing its cud, he chewed up in bits and pieces the deep, bottomless aftertaste. The sofa and desk in his bedroom, the trees and lawn outside his window were the same, and the people he met every day all went on as usual, seemingly unaware of his traumatic hurt and humiliation. But strangely enough he felt at the same time the world had become dull and colorless, and his own world, at least, had changed its appearance, with his private world severed from the public world. Like a lone ghost cut off from the world of the living, he gazed at its joys of which he could not partake and at its sun which did not shine on him. While he could not enter the world of others, anyone could come into his. The first to enter it was Mrs. Chou. No member of the older generation is ever willing for the young to keep their secrets; it's the older generation's duty to coax or force out those secrets. After the T' angs' chauffeur had left, Fang went upstairs to wash his face. Midway down the stairs, Mrs. Chou met him face to face and thought of asking him right there and then about what the maid had told her the night before. She, however, managed to keep quiet, proving she was not only duty-conscious but had forbearance as well. Instead she went into the dining room to wait for him to come down. Her son Hsiao-ch' eng, usually a very quick eater, dawdled around that day, waiting for her to question Hung-chien. By the time Hsiaoch' eng had worn out his patience and had gone off to school, and she had still not seen Hung-chien come down for breakfast, she asked the maid to summon him. Only then did she learn that he had already left. When she found her self-restraint had been in vain, she was furious, calling him a rotten scoundrel. [Even staying at a hotel, one should say a word to the bellboy when he goes out . Here he eats our food , stays in our house , earns our money, and yet he carries on outside behind my back and leaves early in the morning without so much as a word of greeting. No respect for his elders. What kind of behavior do you call that? And he ' s even the son of a scholarly
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family. Well, the Book says, "In the morning when you rise, pay respects to your parents. " Hasn ' t he ever heard that? He ' s gone and lost his head over some girl. No gratitude whatsoever. I don' t suppose he ever stops to think if it weren' t for our support, what Miss Su or Miss T' ang would ever take a fancy to him!) Mrs. Chou had no idea Hung-chien knew a Miss T' ang. Because of the given term "chih-ma su-t 'ang" (sesame seed bar), the word "t' ang" follows naturally after "su. " By blurting the words as they came to her, she had hit the nail on the head. The prophets who foretell the future are all like that [i.e., they hit the nail by accident]. In order to avoid Mrs. Chou, Hung-chien had actually left without breakfast. While wary of being interrogated, he felt even more wary of being pitied or lectured to. The new wound in his heart gave him pain whenever anyone "touched" it. Some people when jilted will immediately display their broken hearts in public and drip with blood like a beggar's scraped legs to stir pity. Or else, after the whole affair is over, they will pull up their clothes in the manner of a veteran and point it out like an old battle scar to arouse awe and wonder. Hung-chien only hoped he could conceal his scar in the dark recesses of his mind, like the infected eyes which shun the light or the tom flesh which fears the wind. Thus at first he decided to act as if nothing had happened and not let anyone discover his secret. If he could just keep it from Mrs. Chou, then no one else would meddle in his affairs. But, then, it is no easy matter to keep a man's anguish from showing on his face, while women may use cosmetics to cover up theirs. By applying rouge a little thicker and dabbing on powder a little more heavily, they can effectively use the red and white to hide their inner misery. For a man who did not usually go about looking disheveled and dirty, Hung -chien, besides his usual hair-combing and shave, had no special way of making up to show that he was the same as always. Unable to deal with Mrs. Chou on such short notice, he decided the best thing to do was to slip away. At the bank Hung-chien mechanically went through his chores, too confused to think. The telegram from San Lti University came to mind. Heaving a sigh, and without the least enthusiasm, he wired his acceptance of the offer. No sooner had he told the messenger to send the telegram than someone from the manager's office summoned him to the manager's office. When Manager Chou saw him, he asked with a frown, "What's with you? My wife's having a gastric attack. When I left the house, Mama Wang was calling the doctor. " Hung-chien quickly explained that he hadn't seen Mrs. Chou all mornmg. With a sad face Manager Chou said, "Well, I can't figure out your affairs, but since Shu-ying passed away, your mother-in-law has never been in •
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very good health. The doctor said her blood pressure was too high and instructed her not to let herself get upset. If she does, it may be dangerous, so I always give in to her three parts of the way. So don' t you, don' t you give her any trouble." He let out a breath when he finished as though releasing a heavy burden. He cowered a little before his nominal son-in-law, a squire' s son and a returned student. Today' s talk was a distasteful but unavoidable duty. From the day he married his wife, he had always yielded to her every wish. The year his daughter died, he had considered taking a concubine to mitigate his grief at losing his daughter in middle age. When his wife learned of his plan, she had fallen ill and in tears begged for death, "I'll die and be gone; then someone else can come take my place." Her threat of death frightened him so much that he thought no more of seeking consolation and became even more compliant toward her. The "three parts" referred to in "give in to her three parts" was not the "three parts" of "three parts water, seven parts dust," but rather the " three parts" as in "There are but three parts moonlight in all the world," which simply means total surrender. "I'll be sure to remember it," said Hung-chien forcedly. "I wonder if she's any better now? Should I give her a call and see how she is?" "No, no, don' t call her! She is angry at you now. No use asking for trouble. Before I left, I told the maid to call me and report after the doctor's visit. Your mother-in-law is getting on in years. Twenty years ago, before we came to Shanghai, she already suffered gastric attacks. When they occurred, she didn' t call the doctor to give her a shot or take painkiller pills; there weren't any pills even if she wanted them. Someone urged her to take a few dregs of opium, but she refused for fear of addiction. The only other alternative was our country remedy. She had to lie down on the bed and have someone thrash her with the door bar. I was always the one who did the thrashing, because it's something only someone close in the family can do. No one else could realize how painful it was and would have been so rough it would have been like beating her with a club. But she can't take that anymore. The method is very effective though. Maybe you city folks don't believe in it. " Hung-chien, wondering whether a nominal son-in-law was considered "someone close, " replied quickly, "Oh, we do, we do! It's a way of tricking the nerves, diverting attention from the place that hurts. It makes a lot of sense. " Manager Chou acknowledged that his explanation was correct. Full of misgivings, Hung-chien returned to his desk. If Mrs. Chou ' s attitude toward me gets any worse, he thought, I can ' t stay on much longer, and I' ll have to leave Shanghai as soon as possible. After lunch at home, Manager
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Chou returned to the bank. He summoned Hung-chien for another talk, asking immediately whether or not Hung-chien had replied to the telegram from San Lii University. Hung-chien suddenly realized what Chou was getting at, and a wave of anger roused him from his stupor. He stood stiffly and straight in an arrogant pose, which made Chou want to avoid looking at him, and in fact, what Chou saw was a section of his shirt in front of the desk slowly filling out and expanding and his tie and belt both rising above the desk. Chou said, "It would be best for you to accept the appointment. Really, there's no sense for you to waste your talent here." He then asked Hung-chien "not to get the wrong idea. " Hung-chien replied with a grating, scornful laugh and asked if his employment was terminated as of that day. Manager Chou tried feebly to assume a stern air. "Hung-chien, I told you not to get the wrong idea. You have a long trip ahead of you. Of course, you' 11 be too busy with your own affairs to come to the bank. Fortunately, there's nothing very urgent to do here. I' m giving you your freedom. You needn' t " come every day. As for your pay, you' 11 still receive "Thank you very much, but I can't accept the money. " "Now look here. I' 11 have the accounting department give you four months salary in a lump sum. You won't have to ask your father for traveling "I don' t want money. I have money. " By the way Hung-chien expenses spoke, it almost sounded as though he were carrying all four major national banks around in his pocket. Without waiting for Manager Chou to finish, he strode out of the office with head held high. A pity that the manager's office was so small, for in less than two strides his proud back was out of Manager Chou's view. Furthermore, without looking he stepped squarely on the foot of a messenger standing outside the door. He apologized. Lifting his foot, a painful smile on his face, the messenger said perfunctorily, "It's all right! " Manager Chou shook his head, thinking, [ Women just don ' t understand how things work . All they can do is blow their tempers at home, making it that much harder for their husbands to carry on outside. ] He had taken great pains to work up a rough draft of the conversation, intending to go from the subject of Hung-chien's travel expenses to Hung-chien's father, and then while on Hung-chien' s father, would quickly change his tone and say, [Since you came hack , you haven ' t been very close to your mother and father. Now that you ' re about to go far away from home again , it seems you ought to go back home for a month or two and look after them a bit. My wife and I would like to have you stay with us for a long time, and Hsiaoch 'eng will hate to see you go , but if I keep you with us and don ' t let you go back home and fulfill your filial duties , your parents will come over and curse us. ] At this point, he would laugh heartily and pat Hung-chien on his
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hand, ann, shoulder or back, depending on which "pattable" part of his body happened to be within reach at the time. [In any case if you drop over often, won ' t it be just the same? If you never come , then I won ' t agree to it. ] He was confident his little speech was tactful and proper, especially the last part, which had been sewn together as flawlessly as "a divine suit of clothes"; it would achieve his objective in every way, what Chief-secretary Wang called as naturally and effortlessly as "pushing a boat downstream." The letters Wang himself wrote were probably no better than this. How vexing that this nice little speech should have been so garbled up in the delivery. He had panicked and lost his composure. That damned little Hung-chien with the disgruntled look of one who has just been slapped in the face. He had given Hung-chien a chance to save face, and instead Hung-chien had to go and scratch it apart and quarrel with him. Hung-chien had no appreciation of the kindness extended to him; no wonder his wife detested him. The part that was hardest to say still stayed pent up inside him, like phlegm stuck in the throat, as vexing as an itch that can't be scratched. Symbolically, he coughed to clear his throat. He had wasted his money educating Hung-chien, who obviously didn't amount to much. His wife had just said that recently when she asked someone to have his horoscope analyzed it had turned out that every sign of his was very roughedged. The marriage would never have come off. Shu-ying had fallen under Hung-chien' s death curse before she' d even married him! Now that Hungchien was having a love affair, there was sure to be trouble. It would be wisest to let Hung-chien go home to be under Squire Fang's strict guard. That would free himself from any involvement as an elder. But it was rather awkward to be chasing Hung-chien away so suddenly today. Ai, the way his wife used her illness as an excuse to vent her anger was really more than he could take! With a sigh he put the matter aside, and picking up the business correspondence on his desk , pressed the buzzer. Not wanting his co-workers to see the shame and anger on his face, Hung-chien ran out of the bank in one breath. He cursed Mrs. Chou, considering her the instigator of his troubles. A husband who let his wife make all the decisions like Manager Chou did was pretty despicable himself! The funny thing was that even now he still didn't understand why Mrs. Chou had suddenly made such a tempest in a teacup. He was sure he hadn ' t offended her in any way! But there was no point trying to figure out her reason. If they wanted him to leave, then he' d leave. He wasn' t about to hang around, nor would he bother disputing with them over who was at fault. To please her, he had even thought of buying and bringing home some of her favorite delicacies! When she learned he was seeing Miss Su, she had changed her attitude and began making nasty remarks. On the other hand, Hsiao-ch'-
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pain, which luckily had not yet started up. Hung-chien arrived at his parents' home some time after four o'clock. As soon as she opened the door, the old maidservant yelled, "Eldest Young Master is here! Madam, Eldest Young Master is here! No need to invite him here any more." Entering, Hung-chien saw his mother sitting by the old round dining table, holding and feeding Ah Hsiung with powdered milk. Ah Ch' ou was fussing nearby. The old maidservant shut the door and hurried back to cajole Ah Ch' ou, "Don' t make a fuss and greet Eldest Uncle like a nice boy. Eldest Uncle will give you candy." Ah Ch' ou shut his mouth and stared up wide-eyed at Hung-chien. As no candy seemed to be forthcoming, he went back to Mrs. Fang to continue jumping and yelling about as before. Ah Ch' ou, P' eng-t' u' s son, was four years old. His face was so ugly at birth that one had to laugh at it. P' eng-t' u, still unaccustomed to being a father, and feeling neither the pride of the creator nor the partiality of the owner toward this lump of red flesh barely possessing the five organs and seven orifices, bounded into his father' s study and announced, "A freak' s been born." Old Fang Tun-weng, eagerly awaiting a grandson, had just divined a lot from the I Ching. It was the Little Beast lot: "Dense clouds, no rain." "The spokes burst out of the wagon wheels. Man and wife roll their eyes." "Blood vanishes and fear gives way, no blame." He looked disconsolately at the words of the I Ching divination lot, thinking that it must mean his daughter-in-law would either have a difficult birth or else a miscarriage. Piously, he was just about to cast another lot when he heard his son's outburst. He jumped with fright, "Don't talk such nonsense! Has the child been born?" Seeing how serious the old man looked, P'eng-t'u quickly replied in a very correct manner, "It' s a boy. The mother and son are both fine. " Containing his delight, Fang Tun-Weng warned his son, "You' re a father now, yet you speak so frivolously. How will you ever teach your son in the future!" P'eng-t'u explained, "The baby's face really is ugly. Please give him a name." "All right, since you say he's ugly, then call him Ah Ch' ou (Ugly Boy)." Remembering that Hsiin Tzu had stated in his chapter "No Face" that the faces of all great saints and sages of antiquity were very ugly, Fang Tun-weng simply gave his grandson the school name of "No Face." Mrs. Fang understood nothing about any face or no face, but she didn't care for the name "Ugly Boy" and insisted, "The boy has a fine face.· All newborns are like that. Who says he's ugly? I think you'd better find him some other name." This brought out Fang Tun-weng' s entire stock of longaccumulated knowledge. "You can' t appreciate that. If Hung-chien were here, he'd understand it." So saying he went to the bookshelves in his study and picked out two or three volumes, which he opened up and gave his son to
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read since Mrs. Fang could only make out a few characters. Fang P' eng-t' u read, "If one wishes to facilitate the raising of one's child, he should give him a lowly name as his childhood name, such as dog, goat, or horse. " He also learned that Ssu-ma Hsiang-ju' s childhood name was Chuan-tzu (dog), Huan Hsi's childhood name was Shih-tou (stone), Fan Yeh's name was Chuan-er ' (brick), Mu-jung Nung·' s name was E-nu (despicable slave), and Yuan I' s name was Yeh-i (underworld messenger) . There were also "Striped Beast," "Bald Head," "Tortoise," "Badger," and so on. He realized then that for his son to be called "Ugly Boy" was actually rather respectable. When Fang Tunweng went to a teahouse that day and told everyone about it, his fawning tea companions, besides repeatedly offering congratulations, all praised his choice of a name, saying it was novel and fitting, not only elegant but also resonant. Only Mrs. Fang, while playing with her grandchild, would often rub her face against his and protest on his behalf, "Our face is so pretty! We' re a lovely little precious darling. Why accuse us of being ugly? Grandpa is so unreasonable, you go and pull his beard off." While abroad, Fang Hung-chien also wrote home voicing his opinion of his nephew' s school name. The two vanguard brothers in the novel The Investiture of the Gods, he said, were called Fang Pi and Fang Hsiang (Fang Face). The name Fang Fei-hsiang (Fang No Face) seemed to be "colliding" with the younger brother and should be changed as soon as possible. Fang Tun-weng had ignored him. Last year a few days after the war had started, the wife of the third son, Feng-i, had her first child. Fang Tun-weng, feeling deeply their "shared misfortune of war" and moved by his experiences, named him Ah Hsiung, giving him the school name "Fei-kung" based on Mo Tzu's "Nonaggression" chapter. By this time Tun-weng had become addicted to giving names. He'd already thought up a whole series of a dozen or more names and merely waited for his daughters-inlaw to give birth to a succession of children to come take them. A boy, for example, would be called "Fei-hsiung" (No Bear) after the story of Chiang T' ai-kung, and a girl would be called "Fei-yen" after aT' ang ch '-uan-ch' i tale. During their escape from their home, the two little boys, Ah Hsiung and Ah Ch' ou, had proved to be no small burden. When that insensitive bachelor, Hung-chien, heard his parents tell about the ordeals of the escape, he inwardly faulted his two sisters-in-law for making his parents suffer, because they had not managed their children properly. It irked him now to see Ah Hsiung and Ah Ch' ou pestering their grandmother, while their own mothers were nowhere in sight. Mrs. Fang had played the role of a filial daughter-in-law for too long. Now when it was her turn to be the mother-inlaw, she simply didn't know how to do it properly. In Western families the •
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fighting between mother and son-in-law is an old custom preserved to this day. In Chinese families, the animosity between mother and daughter-in-law has a history no less lengthy. But when the daughter-in-law becomes pregnant, since it is on her that the mother-in-law must rely for elevation to the position of grandmother, the mother-in-law begins to make accommodations. When the daughter-in-law gives birth to a genuine, honestto-goodness son, the mother-in-law has to make further concessions. Mrs. Fang was meek by nature, while the two young mothers were both quite shrewd. When Ah Ch' ou was born, it had been more than twenty years since the Fangs had heard a baby cry. The old couple couldn't help but dote on and spoil him. As a result the daughter-in-law's arrogance secretly increased, while the grandson's temper visibly worsened. Feng- i' s wife's stomach "did its part," and her firstborn was also a boy. From then on the two sisters-inlaw' s secret rivalry intensified. The Fangs did their best to appear fair to both, but behind their backs, the daughters-in-law each complained of their partiality. When Hung-chien first came back to China, the house was spacious and Ah Ch 'ou had a wet nurse to look after him, so that Ah Ch' ou did not become a nuisance. After their escape, Ah Ch' ou' s wet nurse was dismissed. Since Ah Hsiung was born at the start of the war, Third Daughter-in-law had never used a wet nurse. When they came to Shanghai, she wanted to hire one in order to gain equal footing with Second Daughter-in-law' s Ah Ch' ou. According to an unwritten rule in old families, grandparents were expected to pay for the grandson' s wet nurse. After their flight from the occupied area, Fang Tun-weng' s circumstances were greatly reduced. He had to scrimp on small expenditures and would not hire a wet nurse for his second grandchild. In speaking to Third Daughter-in-law, however, he never mentioned a word about finances, saying only that Shanghai wasn' t like their village but a disreputable place where very few of the lower-class girls were clean. Maids had children by the chauffeur or the rickshaw boy, then hired out as wet nurses. All such women carried disease, making them unfit for nursing a child. Besides, the general moral climate of Shanghai was much too debased. A wet nurse would always be asking leave to spend the night out, and if the milk underwent any changes, it wouldn't be suitable for the child and could very well cause "lifelong regrets. " Seeing that her father-in-law expected her to take care of the baby herself, Third Daughter-in-law's pent-up resentment swelled and so did her stomach, while her appetite diminished and her limbs grew weak. The doctor was called in and she was given some medicine. Meanwhile Ah Hsiung became the sole charge of his grandmother. The doctor had finally verified only a week ago that Third Daughter-in-law was not ill but nearly four months pregnant. Second Daughter-in-law, supporting her
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quivering belly now into her sixth month of pregnancy, said privately to her husband with a scornful smile, "I'd already guessed as much. She knows perfectly well what her stomach is up to. She just wanted to trick that dumb mother of yours. All this about a swelling, an infection of the spleen. Humph, she can't fool me!" In a large family daughters-in-law usually have to have small stomachs for food but big ones for frustration. Once they become pregnant and their stomachs get big, they can enlarge their stomachs for food and reduce their stomachs for frustration. The bodies of these two young wives were by now like two large spiders which have just feasted on flies. Both had reached the state where the capacity of the house had become visibly smaller. Mrs. Fang was left with more work than she could handle, and the two maids decided this was a good time to fuss about a raise, which they got. Because of Third Daughter-in-law' s illness, Fang Tun-weng developed an interest in the study of family medicine. Unlike when they lived in the country, he had few visitors in Shanghai. Next door there lived a quack doctor from his village who admired Fang's reputation and found time off between killing people to drop by occasionally for a chat. In his village this quack had truly "practiced medicine for three generations and won fame in four quarters. The people in that quarter must at least have had strong resistance not to have been exterminated either by his grandfather' s or his father's medicine, leaving three of the four quarters. " Like all lettered men of the older generation, Fang Tun-weng believed that he knew something about medicine: "If not a good official, then a good doctor," as the saying went. The quack, thinking Fang had a wide range of contacts and hoping Fang would introduce some customers to him, inevitably began to flatter Fang. · Such "rice gruel" is like alcohol. Everyone has a different capacity for it. Fang Tun-weng' s capacity had never been very great, but he was fed so much of it that he had almost become intoxicated, and he quite forgot himself. By coincidence Third Daughter-in-law provided him an experimental subject, and so he wrote quite a few prescriptions. When she found the medicine from her father-in-law and the neighbor doctor ineffective, she raised a fuss with her husband and insisted on calling in a doctor trained in Western medicine. Tunweng was inwardly displeased when he first found out about this, but when he heard that the Western-trained doctor had diagnosed she was not ill, his displeasure nearly erupted. When the Western doctor announced the happy news that she was pregnant, he, however, could not very well get angry. Instead he just had to keep it to himself, while he looked for some other way to restore honor to his medical skills and the good name of Chinese medicine. Mrs. Fang took Hung-chien into his father's bedroom. On his desk were spread The Flowers in the Mirror and the tenth edition of the Commercial
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Seeing the ugly look on Hung-chien's face, Mrs. Fang feared a clash between father and son, and asked quickly with sly timidity, "What about that Miss Su? If you really do like her, Papa and I will go along with your wishes. We only want you to be happy. " Hung-chien could not keep his face from reddening as he replied, "I' ve long since stopped seeing her. " The red face did not escape the old couple's notice. They exchanged knowing glances, and with a thoroughly understanding smile Tun-weng said, "You quarreled and broke up, didn't you? That's very common among young couples. Affections grow stronger after every quarrel. Both of you have already regretted it inside but remain resentful and ignore each other. Am I right? At a time like that there has to be a third party to intercede. You won't give in and admit you were wrong, so the only thing is for this old fellow to act as mediator and write her a nice, tactful letter. She's sure to go along for my sake." The naughtiness in Tun-weng' s smile and tone was ponderous enough to have caved in the floor. Hung-chien, who dreaded his father' s humor and would rather he get angry, blurted out recklessly in alatm, "She's already engaged." The look that passed between husband and wife deepened in meaning. Tun-weng grew solemn and said, "Then, you've been you've been what they call 'jilted. ' Well, that' s not worth letting yourself go to pieces for! You have a long life ahead of you." Tun-weng not only forgave but pitied his son for having suffered humiliation at the hands of a woman. Hung-chien felt even more uncomfortable. True, he had been "jilted"word sounded awkward and unnatural on his father's tongue-but not by Su Wen-wan. His parents' sympathy was misdirected. It was as though one had suffered a wound in the flesh only to have the sympathizer dress and bandage a perfectly healthy part instead. Should he tell them about Miss T' ang? They would never understand, and his father might even take up his brush and directly propose to Miss T' ang on his behalf. He was quite capable of doing something ludicrous like that. Hung-chien spouted some nonsense to cover up, then showed his father the telegram. As Hung-chien expected, the business with Mrs. Chou was forgotten. His father said that this job at last was something worthy of a returned student, much better than eking out a living as a petty bank clerk. "Though P' ing-ch' eng is a little remote," his father went on, "the Fangs should have someone in the unoccupied interior, so I can keep in touch with the people there. When you go to the interior, you can tell the appropriate authorities about my activities since my home area fell to the Japanese." After a pause, Tun-weng said, "In the future you should send me a third of your monthly salary, It's not that I want your money, but it's to
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instill in you a sense of responsibility toward your parents. Your two brothers both help out with the family expenses." At the dinner table that evening Mr. and Mrs. Fang clearly sided with their son, criticizing the Chous for being so petty and intolerant that they had to find some excuse to chase Hung-chien out. "Businessmen are always the same. They see that we Fangs have lost our influence. Well, we've no need for relatives who are such stingy, snobbish parvenus as that." Hung-chien's parents settled it that Hung-chien would return to the Chous that evening and pack his bags. The next day Mrs. Fang would go inquire after Mrs. Chou's health, thanking her on Hung-chien's behalf for all her trouble. This would make it easier for them to get the bags away. After dinner, Hung-chien didn ' t feel like going straight over to the Chous, so he went by himself to a movie. When the movie was over, he waited until he thought that Manager Chou and his wife had gone to bed before he finally strolled back. Entering his bedroom, he noticed on his desk Hsiao-ch' eng' s English grammar textbook with a note stuck between the pages: "Brother Hung-chien, I can't wait for you any longer. I have to go to bed. Please do grammar exercises nos. 34 and 38 as fast as you can. Also there's a Chinese composition on any topic. Just write two hundred words on something. If you could do three hundred, that' d be even better. ] ust any which way, don't make it too good. It has to be handed in tomorrow. Thank you very much . " Beside the book was a large plate of loquat seeds which Hsiao-ch' eng had evidently eaten to pass the time while waiting for him. With a snort Hung-chien packed his bags, then lay down and dozed for a while. Early the next morning he left the Chous. Mrs. Chou had actually regretted everything that same afternoon. Having tasted the hollowness of victory, she was merely waiting for Hung-chien to come meekly back and apologize and then she would rescind all her orders. When she discovered the next morning that Hung-chien had left without saying goodbye, and her son was jumping and cursing about, wanting to skip school for the day, she was so infuriated she began muttering incessantly. When Mrs. Fang arrived, she nearly found herself an actress in an impromptu performance of " Cursing Relatives." At lunchtime a messenger from the Golden Touch Bank delivered Hung-chien's salary for four months to the Fangs. Fang Tun-weng accepted the money for his son. Fang Hung-chien's life at home was quite boring. Every day he wrote letters for his father, copied prescriptions, and whenever he had a spare moment took a walk. Each time he left the house he was always secretly hoping that on the street, in a rickshaw, or in front of a movie theater he would accidentally run into Miss T' ang. And what if he did? Sometimes he
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imagined himself proud and aloof, staring through her as though she weren' t there, making it unbearable for her. At other times he pictured himself smiling serenely and being exasperatingly courteous toward her, while she herself completely lost her composure. Sometimes his imaginative powers took even greater leaps, and he saw himself walking ann in ann with someone more beautiful than Miss T' ang, when suddenly he found himself face to face with Miss T' ang, who still had no boy friend. But if Miss T' ang were to show the slightest sign of hurt or disappointment, he would immediately drop the other girl and reconcile with ·Miss T' ang. The Miss T' ang of his imagination sometimes chided him for being "cruel," and other times she suppressed her feelings and turned her face away to hide the tears on her eyelashes. After he had been home for nearly ten days and the Dragon Boat Festival had come and gone with still no word from San Lti University, he began to worry. One day early in the morning a special messenger came with a letter from Chao Hsin-mei. The letter said that the day before Chao Hsin-mei had gone to the Golden Touch Bank to see him but had not found him there. If he were free this afternoon, could he please drop by after four for a chat? Hsinmei had something important to tell him, adding, "What happened before grew out of a misunderstanding. I hope you will not take it to heart. " Strangest of all Hsin-mei called himself "Hung-chien's lovemate." After he had read the letter, he was greatly perplexed. Since Chao Hsin-mei was now engaged to Miss Su, what would Hsin-mei want with him? Hsin-mei certainly wouldn't be asking him to be best man at their wedding. Shortly afterwards the newspaper came, and Third Daughter-in-law immediately grabbed it and began reading. Suddenly she asked, "Your girl friend' s name is Su Wenwan, isn' t it?" Aware that she was watching his face with great interest, Hung-chien hoped he wouldn't blush. In confusion, he asked her why. She pointed to an announcement in the newspaper for him to read. The announcement, placed by Su Hung-yeh and Ts' ao YUan-chen, was intended to inform the readers that the daughter of Mr. Su and the brother of Mr. Ts' ao had on that day become engaged. Hung-chien was so astonished that he could not suppress a cry. This must be that "something important" Chao Hsin-mei had referred to in the letter. If Su Wen-wan could marry Ts' ao Yuan-lang; then there was really no limit to the stupidity of women. What a pity for Chao Hsin-mei! What Hung-chien didn't know was that after accepting Ts' ao Yuan-lang's proposal, Miss Su had said, "Poor Hsin-mei. He's going to complain about how cruel I am." In his great joy the poet Ts' ao' s usually minute understanding of the female psyche was completely forgotten, and he blurted out, "Don't worry about that. He' II find someone 243
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else. I hope everyone can be as happy as I , and I wish him quick success in romance." When Miss Su' s face fell and she grew quiet, Ts' ao Yuan-lang realized his mistake. Having always concentrated on new-style poetry, he had never noticed the two lines from Yuan Wei-chih' s poem: He who has seen a great ocean cannot content himself with a pond. /Having viewed the clouds over Wu Mountain, he will call nothing else a cloud. Ts' ao was filled with remorse. Miss Su of course felt that anyone who had once fancied her could not easily be attracted to another woman. While she wasn' t marrying Chao Hsin-mei, subconsciously, perhaps, she expected him to remain celibate and wait patiently for Ts' ao Yuan-lang to die, so he could step in and fill his place. Ts' ao Yuan-lang hurried home and wrote a love poem to send to Miss Su, first to commemorate the happy occasion and second to make up for his blunder. The general idea of the poem, other than condemning the evils of private property, was that he shared his mind and body with Miss Su. Being so ardent in his emotions and having made a few extra trips into the intense heat of the summer sun, he had developed two small sores on his head, and on his face a layer of pimples had broken out. All these of course he also shared with Miss Su. At exactly five o'clock, Fang Hung-chien found the Western-style apartment house where Chao Hsin-mei lived. Even before he entered the apartment complex, he could hear the radios of several apartments in the building blaring out the popular tune, "The Love Song of Spring." The air was ripped to pieces by the shrill voice of the universally acclaimed Chinese female movie star: Spring, spring, oh why has it not come? The flowers in my heart already are in bloom! Oh, my love-
The logical conclusion to this was of course that before summer came her body had already borne fruit. There was a turgidity in the sharpness of the star's sweet voice, which seemed for the most part like something blown out from the nose greasy, sticky, and soft, the characteristics of mucus, the main product of the nose. But it must have been at least as long as the nose in order to hold that endless, whining sound. He walked up to the door of the Chaos' apartment on the second floor. The song was playing inside there too. As he pressed the bell, he thought, [Hell ! Listening to a song like that is like looking at pornographic books or pictures. It ' s a sign of intellectual backwardness and mental abnormality. ] He had never expected Chao Hsinmei to sink so low after being jilted! The maid opened the door, took his name card, and went inside. The radio was turned off. The maid came out and
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invited him into the small sitting room, which was exquisitely furnished and had several large framed pictures on the walls. Among them was a large photograph of Chao Hsin-mei' s late father, a large photograph of Chao Hsinmei in his master's gown with his diploma in his hand, and an autographed picture of Chao Hsin-mei' s American professor. In a group picture of the Summer Conference of Returned Students from America, Chao Hsin-mei was seated on the ground in the front row. In order to make it easier for the viewer to pick him out, he had marked a crosS on the top of his head in red ink, which was also on the torso of the person standing behind him, making it look as though that person had performed Japanese harakiri on him. Most striking of all was a long, narrow color photograph of Miss Su with a stick in her hand herding a flock of sheep. She had a kerchief tied around her head and was dressed like a shepherdess in a classic, romantic, rustic setting. Unfortunately she did not seem to be wholly occupied with tending the sheep but was looking out of the picture frame and smiling slyly at the viewer. The two lines of inscription on the edge of the picture indicated that it was taken in the French countryside where Miss Su had gone to escape the summer heat. She had had the picture enlarged and given it to Hsin-mei after returning from abroad. In spite of himself Hung-chien felt a slight twinge of jealousy. Miss Su had never shown him this fine photograph. Besides these photographs of the principal relationships including family, teachers, friends, and women -there was a poem and a painting both written especially for Hsin-mei. The poem was by Tung Hsieh-ch'tian written in the Nine-palace calligniphy style: Still lacking a Mandarin duck society, !Not noisy from geese and duck neighbors. I My good friend Hsin-mei, !Unmarried at thirty/Like the Man of Tao in Li Tung-ch 'uan 's poem. He moved and asked for a few lines, I So in fun I wrote these to clutter his wall. The painting, by Mrs. Tung Hsieh-ch' tian, was inscribed, "A hut in the zone of human habitation." Hung-chien was just about to take a closer look when Hsin-mei came out, his clothes, thrown on in haste, remained unbuttoned. It was hot, and perhaps he may have been feeling a little embarrassed, for his face was as red as a tomato. Hung-chien said quickly, "I'd like to take off my clothes. Do I have your permission?" Hsin-mei said, "By all means." The maid took their clothes out to hang up and brought in some tea and cigarettes. Hsin-mei told her to go fetch some cool refreshments. Hung-chien admired the elegance of his apartment and asked how many people were in his family. Hsin-mei replied that there were only his mother, himself, and three servants, while his brother and sister-in-law lived in Tientsin. Eyeing Hung-chien he said solicitously, "Hung-chien, you've lost a lot of weight." With a wan smile Hung-chien replied, "It's all from getting sick that day
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you made me drunk. " "Please, don't bring all that up again!" exclaimed Hsin-mei hurriedly. "We wouldn' t have known each other if we hadn' t had a fight. We' 11 be together for a long time later on, so we should try to be good friends. Tell me, when did you find out that Miss Su was in love with Ts' ao Yuan-lang?" "I just learned about it this morning when I read her engagement announcement in the newspaper. " "Oh" Hsin-mei' s voice revealed satisfaction found out three days ago this morning. She told me herself and even consoled me with lots of kind words. But I still don't know what sort of guy that Ts' ao fellow is." "Well, I've met him before, but I never thought Miss Su would go for him. I thought for sure she'd marry you. " "Don't you know it! And I thought for sure she'd marry you. Who'd have thought there was this Ts' ao fellow! That girl sure is something. We were both taken for a ride. Objectively speaking. I admire her for it. But enough of that. We' re now co-sufferers and we will be co-workers in the future. " "What? You mean you're going to San Lti University too?" Thereupon Hsin-mei opened up and explained the whole affair from beginning to end. San Lti University had just been founded this year. Kao Sung-nien was a fonner professor of his. Originally Kao had asked him to head the political science department, but he had not wanted to leave Miss Su. Then he suddenly remembered hearing her say that Hung-chien was anxious to find a position with a national university, so he sent a telegram to recommend Hung-chien to Kao, hoping to get Miss Su away from Hungchien. But Kao wasn't willing to let him go and instead sent one telegram after another asking him to come. Three days ago he had received his walking papers from Miss Su and had wired his acceptance as soon as he left her house. In the last letter Kao asked him to have Hung-chien send a resume and said that there were others in Shanghai who had also accepted jobs at San Lii University. Kao wanted him to arrange for all of them to set off together, and would forward the traveling expenses and itinerary to him. All was now clear to Hung-chien. He said, "I have to thank you for finding me a job. " "Not at all!" said Hsin-mei. "People in the same boat should help each ot her. " "I forgot to ask you. In your letter you called me ' lovemate. ' What do you mean by that?" Hsin-mei said with a grin, "That' s something Tung Hsieh-ch' tian thought up. He says people who study under the same teacher are called
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classmates, and people who go to the same school are called schoolmates, so people who are in love with the same girl should be called 'lovemates. ' " Hung-chien burst out laughing and said, " That's very clever. Unfortunately your lovemate is Ts' ao Ytian-lang, not me. " "You ' re being too dishonest!" exclaimed Hsin-mei. "We ' re fellow sufferers now. I've been jilted and so have you. You needn't put on a front or try to save face around me. Don't tell me you arcn' t in love with Miss Su.?"
"I'm not in love with her. I'm a fellow sufferer but not with the same person. " "Then who jilted you? Can you tell me?" The secret could be kept no longer. "Miss T' ang," said Hung-chien dejectedly in a low voice. "T' ang Hsiao-fu! You have good taste, all right! How stupid of me." At first, when it seemed that Hsin-mei and Hung-chien had both suffered the same misfortune, Hsin-mei had tried his best to outdo his friend in his expression of pain and misery, not daring to let Hung-chien alone get a name for being brokenhearted. Now that he realized he and Hung-chien were not in each other's way, his attitude toward Hung-chien changed considerably, and his voice recovered its usual resonance. He made Hung-chien wait while he called up Tung Hsieh-ch' tian to ask him over. The three of them went out for dinner together. Hsieh-ch' tian knew all about Hsin-mei' s being jilted. After dinner they began discussing Miss Su' s engagement to Ts' ao Ytian-lang. Hsin-mei remarked magnanimously, "It' s for the best. They have similar interests. Both have studied poetry. " Hung-chien and Hsieh-ch' tian disagreed, maintaining that people in the same line of work were least suited for each other. Both being experts, neither one could dupe the other. The husband would not boundlessly worship his wife, and the wife would not blindly worship her husband. So the marriage would not have a firm foundation. Smiling, Hsin-mei said, "There's no point telling me all that. I just hope they' ll be happy. " They said Hsin-mei was so serene and eventempered that he could be a saint. The saint laughed and said nothing. Then after a long pause he took out his pipe and with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, said, "Ts'ao Ytian-lang will at least have Miss Su to read his stuff, and Miss Su will at least have Ts' ao Yuan-lang to read hers. Neither will lack a reader, so won't that work out nicely?" They laughed and said Hsin-mei was no saint yet but would still do as a friend. Hung-chien no longer felt lonely after this, and the three of them often got together. Three weeks later Hsin-mei invited his new colleagues to a teahouse for breakfast, so that everyone could get acquainted. There were three others
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waiter brought the bill after the meal, Ku grabbed it and insisted on paying it himself, adding that he had always wanted to treat his colleagues and there could be no better time than today. After one look at the bill Ku insisted no more, merely saying, "Such a trifle, why divide it up? You really ought to let me be the host." Hsin-mei paid the bill, and while he was waiting at the counter for his change, Ku went to the lavatory, followed by Li. When they said their good-byes outside the restaurant, Li asked Hsin-mei if he had any friends at the steamship company to help buy the tickets. Hsin-mei replied that he would ask the China Travel Agency to take care of the tickets. Li said, "I have a friend who works at the steamship company. Would you like me to ask him to buy them? We've already put you to so much trouble. This is something I can help with." "Well, that would be fine," said Hsin-mei. "Please get five first-class tickets." That afternoon Hung-chien took Hsin-mei and Hsieh-ch' lian to a coffee shop and talked about their three traveling companions. "If you ask me, that obnoxious little Li Mei-t' ing doesn't amount to anything. How can he be chairman of the Chinese Literature Department? You should have recommended Hsieh-ch' lian. " "Hsieh-ch'iian?" sputtered Hsin-mei. "You think he'd want to go? If you don't believe me, ask him yourself. Nobody but a pair of jilted rejects like us would be willing to go there. Hsieh-ch' lian has a beautiful young wife at horne. " "Don't be silly," said Hsieh-ch' lian with a smile. "I' ve no interest in teaching. As they say, ' If I had three hundred mou of paddy fields, I wouldn' t be a monkey king [ i. e. , teacher] next year. ' Why don't you both go to Hong Kong with me and look for something there?" Hung-chien said, " That's right. Coming back home has meant unemployment, so I don't mind teaching. But Hsin-mei has several options open to him. He can either work for the government or run a newspaper, but instead he's going to go sit on a cold bench. I feel sorry for him. " "Running a newspaper is a way to enlighten the people," said Hsin-mei, "and teaching is, too. Both are 'spiritual mobilization,' the one just as much as the other. In terms of influence a newspaper is broadest, but in terms of the degree of influence teaching goes deepest. I'm gaining experience through this trip. " "Such high-flown talk, " said Hsieh-ch ' lian with a smile, "should be saved for your editorials to dupe your readers." "I ' m not trying to deceive anyone with big talk," said Hsin-mei impatiently. "I really believe it. " Hung-chien said, "You're so used to duping people with big talk that
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"You don' t understand," said Hsin-mei. "One can engage in politics through teaching, too. Look at the great Chinese statesmen at present. They all started their careers as professors. It's the same in Europe, like the first president of Czechoslovakia or the present prime minister of France. Politicians who begin by teaching can first of all get a firm grasp of the minds of the young, and second, they can train their own cadres. It's the same as a newspaper creating public opinion." Hung-chien said, "That's not a great professor engaging in politics. It's a petty politician running education. The former policy of keeping the masses ignorant prevented the people from getting an education. The current policy of keeping the masses ignorant only allows the people to get a certain kind of education. The uneducated are fooled by others because they're illiterate. The educated are taken in by printed matter like your newspaper propaganda and lecture notes on training cadres because they are literate." Hsin-mei remarked sarcastically, "Listen, everyone. Mr. Fang Hungchien's views are so penetrating! He's only twenty-eight and has just had an unhappy love affair, yet he sees through education, he sees through politics, he sees through everything. Humph! Well, I see through you! All because of a downy-haired lassie, you turn into such a cynic. What a lot of fuss over nothing. " Hung-chien banged down his glass. "Who are you talking about?" "I'm talking about T'ang Hsiao-fu, your beloved. She isn't a downyhaired lassie?" White with rage, Hung-chien called Su Wen-wan Old Lady Hsii. Hsin-mei said, "Whether she's Old Lady Hsii or not is all the same to me. I don't go defending her the way you do T' ang Hsiao-fu. If she knew you were still so hung up on her, she'd probably try to put back the pieces. Right, Hsieh-ch' iian? So spineless! Would you !ike me to send her a message.?" Hung-chien was speechless. He stood up, but Hsieh-ch' iian pulled him back down to his seat, saying, " Calm down, calm down. People are watching. I'm embarrassed for you. In any case you're both in the same boat. It seems Hung-chien hasn't been himself lately. How could anyone who calls himself a man get so upset over a girl - " In a rage Hung-chien stalked out of the coffee shop without listening to his friend. He returned home and was just sitting down in a huff when the telephone rang. It was Hsieh-ch' iian, who said, "Why get so angry?" Hungchien was about to reply when Hsin-mei came on the line and said, "Hey, old
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chap, I can apologize all right, but you mustn' t put on a show of anger and take off! Today you, the host, ran away without paying the bill, and we guests didn't bring any money with us. Now we' re held in custody here in the coffee shop until you come rescue us! SOS. Hurry up! Tonight I'll treat everyone to a round of drinks to apologize." Hung-chien couldn' t help laughing and said, "I'll be right over. " On the afternoon of the nineteenth, Hsin-mei gave Hung-chien the ticket that Li Mei-t' ing had bought for him, and informed him that the ship company had postponed the departure date to the twenty-second. Everyone was to be on board by six-thirty P. M. In the West in ancient times, whenever someone disappeared, people would.say, "He's either died or he's gone to teach" (Aut mortuus est aut docet litteras). While Hung-chien did not fear teaching as much as he did death itself, he did feel this teaching job was all a part of his bad luck and was dispirited and out of sorts for days on end, feeling an inexpressible dread at the thought of the long journey. The longer he could put the trip off the better. But when the ship company really did postpone it for two days, he wished it hadn't happened. He would have preferred to go ahead with it as soon as possible. He was taking three pieces of luggage: one large trunk, one bedroll, and one piece of hand luggage. Mrs. Fang helped get his clothes and bedding ready for him, saying, "Once you're married you won't need me to take care of these things." Fang Tun-weng said, "I'm afraid he'll still have to trouble you. Women students these days only like to have things done for them. They don't know how to do anything for themselves." Mrs. Fang thought the early fall weather very unpredictable; so to prevent her son from catching cold on the way she wanted him to take a small bedroll in which he could wrap up the thin cotton quilt and clothes he used at night and wouldn't have to open up his large bedroll every day. Hung-chien was worried that too much luggage would be burdensome and pointed out that Kao Sung-nien had said in his letter that they'd certainly get there within a week at the earliest or within ten days at the most. The weather would not be turning cold yet. If he put a thin wool blanket in his carrying case, that would be enough. Fang Tun-weng had several parting words of advice, which he instructed his son to remember, all arranged in catchy parallel couplets, such as: "Clench your jaws tight and stand firmly on your heels," or "One can miss home for a long time, but one must not be tied to home for an instant," and so on. Hung-chien knew that while these remarks were said to him, they were intended primarily to be recorded in a diary or in memoirs, so later generations could see how well Fang Tun-weng had brought up his son in accordance with truth and righteousness. Having so much leisure time of late, Tun-weng had suddenly discovered himself, like a
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child who is fascinated with his image in the mirror as he moves his head from side to side, and gazes at himself from the corner of his eye. this spiritual narcissism had prompted him to write an autobiography and keep a diary. It was like a woman who puts on Chinese and Western dresses of all seasons and all colors, strikes every kind of pose, walking, standing, sitting, lying, supporting chin in hand and twisting the neck, and has a picture taken of each to give her friends as a memento. These records were to prove from every angle and with every kind of fact Fang Tun-weng' s noble character. Now whenever he said or did something, he was thinking at the same time how to record it in his diary or his record of deeds and sayings. The records weren't completely concocted out of thin air and were like a water bubble, which leaves a tiny drop of water when it bursts. Students of the psychology of language will recognize this at once as a case of verbalmania: People with a desire to lead, no matter whether in the literary, military, commercial, or governmental field, all reveal this symptom. When friends came, Tun-weng always showed them his diary. Thus their neighbor, the quack doctor, learned that prior to the Dragon Boat Festival the Fangs' eldest son hnd fallen in with bad women, but after being reprimanded by Tun-weng had "awakened in terror and been filled with shame and remorse because of it." The entry in Tun-weng' s diary of the day before yesterday stated how Tunweng had asked Hung-chien to go to the Chous to say goodbye and how when Hung-chien refused and cursed Mrs. Chou, calling her a stingy snob, he had admonished his son, "A gentleman is severe with himself while being indulgent toward others, and so he does not lose relations or friends." As a result, his son had submissively "fallen silent. " Actually Hung-chien had never cursed Mrs. Chou. It was Tun-weng himself who was dissatisfied with her and who had thus resorted to this veiled manner to disparage her. At first Hung-chien had in fact refused to go say goodbye, but had finally gone in the end; when he found no one at home, he felt as though he'd been granted a pardon. A day later, the Chous sent over four varieties of food as going-away gifts. But the unreasonable Hung-chien became quite angry when he learned of it and wouldn' t allow his mother to accept them. Mrs. Fang told her son to go down himself and speak with the person delivering the gifts, but he did not care to see the Chous' chauffeur either. In the end the chauffeur, after getting nothing but refusals at every turn, flung the food down and took off. In his obstinacy Hung-chien refused to eat anything the Chous had sent. Fang Tun-weng added an entry to his diary poking fun at his son for trying to imitate the Chou dynasty recluses Po Yi and Shu Ch' i by "not eating the grain of Chou."
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5 HUNG- CHIEN was to call a cab to take him to the docks, but the shrewd P' eng-t' u said that since the cab fare had doubled several times recently and since Hung-chien was in no hurry and had only a few pieces of luggage, it would be better for him to hire two rickshaws. In any case, their brother Feng-i would be seeing Hung-chien off. On the twenty-second, around five o' clock, Hung-chien and Feng-i left their house. When the rickshaws came to the French Concession, a French policeman, with two Vietnamese policemen in tow, was rigorously searching passersby, while letting the cars get through easily. Hung-chien noticed immediately that the French policeman was the one who had been on the same ship coming to Shanghai with him. They had spoken a few times on the ship, and the Frenchman still seemed to recognize Hung-chien, for he waved Hung-chien's rickshaw through. Hung-chien thought to himself that those policemen on the boat were all from the French countryside and were leaving home for the first time, and every one of them was pitifully poor. But, in no time at all, this one had become colossal and colorful. His once anemic complexion was now as red as raw beef; his eyes were completely woven over with red silk threads, and his stomach protruded like a puffed-up frog. The French are known as "frogs" internationally and it is most appropriate. What was so frightening was that the French policeman had now taken on a vicious, beastly look. Shanghai is like the Island of Circe in Greek mythology. It can turn a perfectly decent fellow immediately into an animal. The Vietnamese policemen looked even more ridiculous. There are no Orientals as puny and illsuited to wearing a uniform as the Vietnamese. In the case of the Japanese, it's merely that their legs are too short for carrying sabers. The gaunt, emaciated Vietnamese, on the other hand, with their parched skin and black teeth looked like born opium addicts, and the policemen ' s sticks in their hands even resembled opium pipes. One of the Vietnamese policemen seemed to read Hung-chien's thoughts; he stopped Feng-i' s rickshaw, which had fallen behind, and spitefully searched Feng-i from top to bottom, cutting open the cracker box and the fried pork can, and even stealthily stuck out his hand to demand three dollars. The bedroll at least remained intact. Along the way, Hung-chien, busy looking after the large and small trunks, couldn ' t easily turn his head; when he alighted from the rickshaw at the dock and did not see 263
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"I think you are right. If they had wanted to save money, why didn' t they say so? We could have taken second-class cabins, too. Besides, dido' t the school wire every one a hundred dollars for a travel allowance? In his letter Kao Sung-nien said that the sum would be more than enough. What's the point of saving a few dollars?" "That ' s not true though," said Hsin-mei. "We have no family to support; they're older and have kids. Maybe they have to take care of family expenses. What Kao Sung-nien said isn't necessarily so. Traveling these days isn' t like what it was during peacetime. Expenses can't be accurately estimated. It's better to take a little extra. How much money did you bring?" Hung-chien said, "I brought along all my unspent pocket money, plus the travel allowance Kao sent. One hundred sixty or seventy dollars in all." "That's enough. I brought two hundred. I'm afraid that Li and Ku left most of the school' s travel allowance at home. They brought so much luggage. If by some chance we run out of money along the way, it' ll mean trouble for everyone. " Hung-chien sighed and said, "I think they must have packed their entire families in their luggage wives, sons, and even their houses. Did you notice? Li Mei-t'ing's metal trunk is as tall as a person. They didn't have to leave any money at home." Chuckling, Hsin-mei said, "Hung-chien, I'm going to change my ways on this trip. I ' m more apt to spend money on good food and luxuries than you. Li and Ku probably see us as a couple of ignorant kids who don' t know anything about bad times or who have no sensitivity toward others' problems. From now on I won't make any decisions; I' 11 leave all questions of food and lodging up to them, so we won' t be choosing expensive hotels and restaurants and forcing them to spend money along with us. This business with the tickets is a good lesson. " "Chao, ol ' boy, you ' re wonderful! You really have the democratic spirit. You' 11 make a great president some day. We've already involved Miss Sun in the buying of the tickets. She's such a shy young girl that she hardly says a word. As her 'uncle' you must take good care of her. " "True, besides, the school didn't give Miss Sun any travel allowance. I forgot to tell you. " "Why not 7" • . "I don' t know. In his letter Kao Sung-nien indicated clearly that he wanted her to come, but he just sent expenses for us four. Maybe a teaching assistant's position is so low that the school feels she doesn't warrant any travel allowance and that there are loads of people like her around." "That's ridiculous! We're already under salary and could have managed
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without the travel allowance. But this is Miss Sun's first job. How can they expect her to put up the money? Once you get to the school, you should bring up her case with the authorities." "I was thinking the same thing. There shouldn' t be any problem getting . " compensa t1on. "Hsin-mei, let me say something. Don't get angry. This is the first time we've ever taken a trip like this, and transportation is poor. People like us with no traveling experience can barely look after ourselves, so why did you bring a delicate little Shanghai girl along? If she can't take the hardships and gets sick on the way, won't she be a burden? Unless you have something else in mind, then it's " "What nonsense! You think I don' t know about the troubles involved? It's all because I couldn't say no to a friend. She will be in foreign languages and I will be in political science. Once •we get to the school, she'll be someone else's office wife, and we won' t have anything to do with each other. Besides, I told her at the start that the trip would be hard, that it wasn't like Shanghai, and she said she didn' t mind. " "If she can take the hardships, then the trip will be easy for you." Hsin-mei, gesturing as if he wanted to brush his pipe against Hungchien's face, said, "You want me to introduce her to you, don't you? Well, t hat ' s easy enoug h . " Protecting his face with his hand, Hung-chien said with a grin, "To tell you the truth, I' ve never taken a good look at her. I couldn' t say for sure whether her face is round or flat. We sure are rude! During dinner we talked among ourselves without ever paying her any attention. Then after we ate we ran off to the deck and left her by herself. She's away from home for the first time. Being alone and deserted must make it even harder to bear. " "Having recently been jilted by women, we are like birds afraid of the bow; we're frightened even by a woman's shadow. But those tender feelings of yours have already planted the seed of love in your heart. Let's go and tell her, 'Mr. Fang is concerned about you. ' " "Relax. I'm certainly not going to be your 'lovemate. ' If you have any wine, save it until it's time for me to drink at your and Miss Sun ' s wedding!" "Don' t talk nonsense! What if she hears us? I recently decided that I won't ever again go for a city girl with a college degree. I had such a hard time waiting on Su Wen-wan; from now on I want women to wait on me. I'd rather marry a simple, honest country girl. She needn' t be well-educated, just as long as she' s in good health, has a good temper, and will willingly let me be her ' Lord and Master. ' I don't think love has to play such an
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important role in life. A lot of people don't have any romance and they go on living just the same." "If my father heard you say all that, he'd certainly say, 'The lad can be taught. ' But if you want to become an official later, a country girl doesn't have what it takes to be an official's wife. She couldn't help you entertain and advance your career. " "I'd rather that I be an official and she be unworthy to be an official's wife; I don't want her to be an official's wife and insist that I become one of those corrupt officials. If I'd married Su Wen-wan, for instance, I wouldn' t be able to go with you now to San Lii University. She'd have forced me to go wherever she wanted to go. " "Do you really like going to San Lii University?" asked Hung-chien, surprised. "I admire your spirit. I'm not like you. You have more conviction than I do about marriage and work. I still remember that time Ch' u Shenming or Miss Su said something about a ' fortress besieged. ' Lately, I ' ve been having that feeling about everything in life. For instance, I really wanted to go to San Lii University, so I accepted the appointment. But lately the more I think about it the less interest I have in it. Now I really hate myself for not having the guts to turn around and return to Shanghai on the same boat. After my last fiasco with Miss T' ang, I don't know when I'll ever get married. But I think if you' d married Miss Su, you' d have found it isn' t anything special. Remember the old saying that a dog loses the juicy bone in its mouth when it goes after the reflection of the bone in the water? When your dream comes true and you marry your sweetheart, it' s as though the bone has entered your stomach and you then pine for the never-to-be-seenagain reflection in the water. Tell me, after Ts' ao Yi.ian-lang' s marriage, what did his wife force him to do? Do you know?" "He is a department head in the Commission of Wartime Resources. It's a post his new father-in-law got for him. You can call it part of Miss Su' s dowry. " "Oh boy! The country, the country belongs to the family! If you ' d married Miss Su, wouldn't that prestigious post be yours?" "Phooey! If a man has to hold onto a woman's apron strings to advance himself, then he has no will of his own. " "Some people might say you are like the fox who couldn' t reach the grapes and complained that they were sour. " "I'm not at all envious. I will tell you something. The day Miss Su got married, I went to the wedding "Hung-chien exclaimed, "Ah?""The Sus invited me, so I sent a gift - " "What did you send?"
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"A large basket of flowers. " "What kind?" "In any case I had the florist send them. What difference does it make what kind they were?" "You should have sent apricot blossoms to show your love for each other or else narcissus to imply that her heart is too hard. If you add mug-wort to the narcissus, it shows that you' ll suffer for the rest of your life because of her. You should also include some carnations to emphasize your underlying . " meanmg. "What nonsense! Where would you get apricot blossoms or narcissus in the summer? You're nothing but an armchair strategist. All right, since you are such an expert, why don' t you do that yourself the next time someone gets married? My reason for going that day was to see if I had the courage to watch the woman I loved for more than ten years marry someone else. Ai! When I went, I found it didn't bother me at all. I'd never met Ts' ao YUanlang, so at first I thought if Miss Su saw something in him, he must be a lot better than I; I was quite upset at having been bested by someone else. But when I saw that oddball, I thought, how could she have fallen for him? To tell you the truth, a woman with taste like that doesn't deserve to marry me, Chao Hsin-mei. I can do without her." Hung-chien slapped Hsin-mei on the thigh and exclaimed, "Well said, well said. " "They hadn't been engaged for more than a few days when Mrs. Su came to call on my mother. She was apologetic, mentioning what a stubborn child that Wen-wan was and how she had tried in vain to prevail on Wenwan, even saying how this might ruin the friendship of two generations between the Su and Chao families. What was even more amazing you will laugh when I tell you y morning afterwards when Mrs. Su lit incense in front of the Bodhisattva, she made a silent prayer for my happiness." Hungchien burst out laughing. Chao went on, "I asked my mother why Mrs. Su didn't read a few sutras to free my soul from suffering. My mother thought I was very concerned about the whole matter and found out all sorts of silly things to tell me. She said the father, Su Hung-yeh, had business to attend to in Chungking at the time and couldn' t make the wedding, but he wrote to his daughter that he wanted her to be happy and that everything was up to her. Furthermore, my mother said that Miss Su and her fiance were very Westernized and wouldn't choose an auspicious date according to the traditional weddings but chose a Western date. May, the couple said, was the least favorable time to get married. June was the most appropriate, but they had already become engaged in June, so they postponed the wedding until the
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who has come upon a match and lit it, only to have it go out immediately while the space before his eyes. slips back into the darkness before he has gotten a good look at it. It was like the moment when two ships scrape by each other in the darkness of night and someone in one ship glimpses an unforgettable face from his dreams in the light of a cabin in the ship opposite, but before he has time to call out, both are already far apart. That one split second of proximity seems instead like an unbridgeable gap. At that point Hung-chien could only wish that Hsin-mei weren't so stupid. "I didn' t talk to Miss T' ang much anyway. The best man, a friend of Ts' ao Yiian-lang' s, kept following her and wouldn't let her leave his sight for a second. I could see he was very interested in her. " Hung-chien suddenly hated Miss T' ang so much his heart stung as though pressed against a thorn. Suppressing the quaver in his voice, he said, "I don' t care to hear about such people' s affairs. Don' t talk to me about them." Hsin-mei was momentarily taken aback by the abruptness of these remarks; then suddenly understanding, he put his hand on Hung-chien' s shoulder and said, "We've been sitting here long enough. It's pretty windy now. Let ' s go back to the cabin and turn in. We ' II be going ashore early tomorrow morning." He yawned as he spoke. Hung-chien followed him. Just as they had rounded the corner, Miss Sun rose from a bench to greet them. Startled, Hsin-mei hurriedly asked her how long she had been on the deck by herself and whether or not she minded the cold, since it was quite windy. She explained that her cabin mate's child was crying and carrying on so much it had gotten on her nerves, so she had come out for a change of air. Hsin-mei said, "It's a little rough now. Do you feel seasick?" "I'm all right," she said. "You and Mr. Fang must have seen a lot worse storms than this when you went abroad." Hsin-mei said, "Very bad ones. But Mr. Fang and I didn't go the same way," and with that he nudged Hung-chien as a hint for him to say something instead of remaining so rudely silent. Hung-chien' s heart seemed at that moment to be in a race with the pain inside it, trying to run fast enough to keep the pain from catching up. He rattled off a few irrelevant remarks as though to throw out some obstacles, which would temporarily block the pain's pursuit. He talked about all kinds of things, which had happened on his cruise abroad. When he mentioned flying fish, Miss Sun was quite intrigued and asked if he had ever seen a whale. Hsin-mei felt the question was na·ive beyond a doubt. Hung-chien replied, "Yes, I did. Quite a few of them. Once our boat nearly got stuck between a whale' s teeth. " As the lamplight shone on Miss Sun's astonished eyes, which were as round as circles painted by Giotto, Hsin-mei' s suspicions deepened, and he
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said, "Listen to that nonsense!" Hung-chien said, "I ' m telling you the absolute truth. The whale was taking its afternoon nap after lunch. You ·know, Miss Sun, some people listen, speak, and see all with their mouths. They open their mouths to listen, to see, and even to sleep. This whale had a stuffy nose from a cold, so it was sleeping with its mouth wide open. Luckily the crevices between its teeth were stuffed up tightly with bits of meat. Otherwise, our boat would really have been in danger. " Miss Sun said, "You're fooling me, Mr. Fang. Isn't he, Mr. Chao?" Hsin-mei gave a disdainful snort. Hung-chien said, "There really was a case where a big ocean liner slipped in between a fish's teeth. If you don't believe it, I can check for you. " "Don't be ridiculous," interrupted Hsin-mei. "We'd better go down and sleep. Miss Sun, your father entrusted you to me. I must make you go back to your cabin or you'll catch a chill " Hung-chien said with a laugh, "What a good 'uncle' he is!" Hsin-mei took the opportunity, while Miss Sun wasn' t paying attention, to give Hung-chien a hefty punch in the back, saying, "Mr. Fang here loves to tell lies. He's fooling you with fairy tales." Lying in bed, Hung-chien felt the pain in his heart bearing directly down on him and tried to save himself by chatting with his friend. "Hsin-mei, it still hurts where you hit me!" "You are shameless," said Hsin-mei. "I saw everything clearly just now from the sidelines. Miss Sun Ai! Is that girl ever sly? I was a fool to bring her along Miss Sun is just like that whale. She opens her mouth and you, you stupid idiot, you go right on in like that boat. " Hung-chien, rolling over with laughter, said, "You' re too paranoid! Just too paranoid!" When his real laughter had subsided, he continued with simulated laughter in order to scare away the pain in his heart. "I'm sure that girl overheard everything we said. It's all your fault. You were talking so loud " "You were. Not me." "Can you imagine a college graduate being that naive and innocent? 'Mr. Fang is fooling me, isn' t he?' " Hsin-mei constricted his throat, giving what he considered a flawless imitation "Well, I won't be taken in by her! Only a fool like you would! I'll tell you something, you can't judge people by their appearances. Did you notice when I said you were telling her nothing but fairy tales? If I hadn't said that, she'd certainly have asked you to lend her the book to read " " I don' t have it even if she did. " "That's not the point. Everyone knows women won't spend their money on books. Men will buy candy, dress material, or cosmetics to give to
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a woman, but in the case of books, they' Ill end them to her, never buy them as presents. And women don't want them to either. Why? Once borrowed, it has to be returned. It's borrowed once, then returned once. One book can be an excuse for the two of them to meet twice, and it leaves no trace behind. That's the first step toward romance a girl and a boy have to take. Once the book is lent, complications follow. " Smiling, Hung-chien said, "You ' re a real terror! But what you say about Miss Sun is complete rubbish. " Smiling smugly at the cabin ceiling, Hsin-mei said, "Not necessarily. OK, enough. Don't talk any more. I want to sleep." Hung-chien knew that sleep, like Miss T' ang, would evade him. Thinking of the long and troublesome night ahead, he felt the dread of the lone traveler crossing an open plain in the depth of night. He tried to find something to say to Hsinmei, but Hsin-mei ignored him. Left without aid or resistance, he let the pain of his affliction nibble and gnaw away at his heart. The next morning the ship did not enter the harbor. Instead, shortly before noon, the steamship company dispatched two launches to the ship to take the passengers ashore. The first- and second-class and some of the thirdclass passengers boarded the first launch, whose deck was five or six feet lower than the deck of the third-class cabins, so the passengers had to jump down. Every slight surge of the water would separate the launch and the ship by more than a foot; the space seemed like an open mouth waiting for someone to fall in. The passengers cursed the company in unison, but everyone went ahead and jumped regardless of the peril. Surprisingly, no mishaps occurred. Quite a few must have hurt their stomachs in the jump, as they all massaged their stomachs, frowning and wordless. Hung-chien was worried lest he get appendicitis. With so many people jammed onto the little launch, in the air were the cries of "The boat's tilting. A few people on the left move over to the right." "No! Too many on the right! You want to stay alive?" The yelling of each remark rolled over people ' s tongues like a snowball, getting bigger and clumsier as it went and passing from one end of the boat to the other. Meanwhile someone told Hung-chien that it would be difficult to find a hotel on shore and that nine out of ten of the rooms would be filled. Hsin-mei said since there were several hundred passengers arriving with Li and Ku on the second launch, and if they waited for everyone to get ashore before looking for a hotel, they'd probably spend the night outdoors. It was decided that when the launch docked, Hsin-mei and Miss Sun would take the luggage and go find a hotel; Hung-chien would wait for Li and Ku on the dock, and when Hsin-mei had found a hotel, he would come and get them. As soon as Hsinmei left, suddenly the air raid sirens sounded, Hung-chien grew
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apprehensive, thinking how misfortune always came in pairs. With the bad luck he' d been having, there was no assurance he wouldn' t be killed by a bomb. He was even more worried about Li and Ku aboard the ship. Then it occurred to him that since the ship was the property of the Italians, allies of the Japanese, it wouldn't be bombed. It was, however, more important for him to run for his own life, but he noticed that no one else on the dock was running, so he stayed back. Fortunately the emergency alarm wasn't set off. After an hour or so, the air raid watch was over and Hsin-mei came hurrying up. Shortly afterwards, the second launch approached the dock in pitch blackness amidst the buzzing of voices. Hung-chien caught sight of Li' s huge metal trunk, which was set off against the small, narrow prow of the launch; the trunk was like a large nose or enormous mouth on a small face, giving the startling impression of the part being larger than the whole, as if violating the rules of geometry. That such a huge trunk could have been transported off the larger ship was even more of a miracle of physics. Without his dark glasses on his face, Li' s large, white eyes looked like two shelled hard-boiled eggs, Hsin-p-1ei hurriedly asked him where his glasses were. Li pulled them from his pocket and put them on, explaining that he had put them away so they wouldn't slip from his nose and get broken while they were jumping onto the launch. Li and Ku had not made the first launch because of their luggage, bui Li implied by his tone that the terror he and Ku had just experienced on the ship from the air raid was on account of Hsin-mei and the others. If he had not given the first-class tickets to them, he too would have had the priority to board the launch and would not have been caught between fire and water or suffered a "shock to the nerves. " Hsin-mei and Hung-chien' s skills at pretense and flattery literally went bankrupt at this point, and they really could find no way to express their gratitude. Ku Er-chien' s enthusiasm, however, was undimmed. What a lucky day!" Ku cried. "We really escaped from the very jaws of death! I never thought we'd see you two again. I think everyone on the ship today was depending on Mr. Li' s good fortune Mr. Li, you were on the boat so the airplanes didn' t pay us a visit. And that's not just nonsense. I believe in fate. As Tseng Kuo-fang' once said, 'Believe not in heaven but in luck. ' " At first Li seemed like a cold-blooded animal in hibernation, but Ku' s praise in front of everyone sent the warmth of spring into his body, and he wriggled with the signs of life. With a smile unexpectedly gracing his features, he said, " People engaged in great enterprises all believe in fate. Before I left home this time, a friend read my fortune. He said my luck was now changing. 'Along the way bad luck will turn to good."' Ku clapped his hands and said, "Hasn't it, though? I was
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left too numb and weakened to suffer any more forT' ang Hsiao-fu. From his bed Hsin-mei yawned and exclaimed, "What a living hell! After the Shaohsing opera was over, you started snoring your head off! It's sheer luck the roof wasn't blown off by your nose. I didn't get to sleep until just before dawn." Hung-chien, who had always assumed himself a very quiet sleeper, said in embarrassment, "Really? I don't believe it. I've never snored before. Maybe the person next to us was snoring, and you thought it was I. You know how thin these walls are." "You dirty rat!" said Hsin-mei angrily. "Why don't you just say I snored and blamed you for it? I just wish I could have gotten a recording of your snoring. " If a recording really had been made, it would have been a thunderous racket, like the roaring of waves or the gobbling and gulping of wolves or tigers, accompanied by a thin, sharp thread of sound in the middle that rose and fell abruptly without stop. Sometimes the thread rose higher and higher, getting thinner and thinner like a kite-string about to snap. Then for some reason it would descend and stabilize as if reaching a peak. Hsin-mei was so keyed up that his nerves climbed and fell with it. Now as he thought back on it, he still wished he could twist off Hung-chien's nose as a warning for him to be careful next time. "All right," said Hung-chien. "Don' t keep trying to get hack at me. I was tired yesterday. But if you're going to be so unforgiving, heaven will punish you with a wife who snores like thunder. She'll blow a bugle by your pillow every night." "To tell you the truth," said Hsin-mei, laughing, "last night when I heard you snoring away, I was thinking that I should add another item to the list of standards for choosing a mate I was telling you on the ship: 'Must not snore while sleeping.'" Hung-chien also laughed. "But to figure out a way to test it out before marriage ""Don't say it," said Hsin-mei. "I think you can tell by a person's face whether or not he snores." "Oh, of course," said Hung-chien. "If you marry a woman with a rotten nose there won't be any question about it." Hsin-mei jumped up from his bed and tried to pinch Hungchien's nose. They went from Ningpo to Hsikou the next day, boarding a boat and then riding in rickshaws. On the boat, it began to drizzle, sometimes one or two drops at a time, drops which didn't seem to be coming from the patch of sky above their heads. Then, when one took a closer look, there was no more. A while later the raindrops became denser, but it still wasn't like rain, just several droplets of water making mischief in midair,· rolling and jumping about until tired, then falling to the ground at the right time. Hung-chien and his colleagues, huddling together at the prow of the boat keeping watch on the luggage, hurriedly took out their raincoats. All except Li, who said the rain wasn't heavy and that it wasn't worth opening his trunk to get out his
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mustered his courage, took off his glasses, and cautiously inched his way across. When he'd reached the other side, he called, "Mr. Chao, come on over. Don' t be afraid. Miss Sun, would you like me to come back and help you across?" Ever since that night on the boat, Hsin-mei had grown very cool toward Miss Sun. Now he was afraid there was no shirking his duty as her "uncle" to give help to those in danger and distress. Why not give this chivalrous job to Hung-chien? And so with his heart in his mouth, he made his way across. Realizing Hsin-mei' s intention, Hung-chien silently cursed his own cowardice, afraid he'd only make a mess out of it if he tried to help her. All he could do was smile ruefully at Miss Sun and say, "That leaves just us two cowards. " " Mr. Fang , are you scared?" asked Miss Sun. " I am not . Would you like me to go in front? If you follow me, you won't have to look at the void below and you won't have the feeling that the bridge is endless. This way you would have more confidence." Hung-chien was struck with admiration. Women are strange creatures, he thought. When they want to be considerate, they really can go all the way; they can even make the pores of your skin feel their tenderness. As he followed her onto the bridge, the smooth surface gave way slightly under his feet, then bounced back again. The inky green color of the water far below showed through the countless cracks in the rattan. He fixed his eyes on the back hem of Miss Sun's Chinese dress [ ch ' i- p ' ao ] and didn' t dare glance to either side. Fortunately, the bridge soon came to an end. Miss Sun turned and smiled triumphantly. Hungchien hopped down from the bridge' s buttress, yelling, "I' ve already been condemned to walk the Bridge of No Return without even entering hell! Are there any more bridges like this ahead?" Ku was about to say, "You people who've been abroad aren' t used to Chinese roads, " when Li asked Hungchien in a stage whisper if he'd ever read Literary Games , in which there was a marvelous eight-legged essay entitled "Helping the young maid across the bridge." Hsin-mei smiled and said, "Miss Sun, were you leading him from the front or was he looking after you from behind?" It suddenly occurred to Hung-chien that other people hadn' t necessarily caught on to what a useless coward he was, since following behind Miss Sun could be interpreted in two different ways. He quickly said, "Miss Sun was leading me across the bridge." Miss Sun knew this to be true, while to the others it just sounded as though he was being polite. His vanity had led him to cover up the facts with a true statement. Miss Sun, who had apparently caught on to his intention, just smiled and said nothing. The sky gradually darkened at the approach of a storm. The rickshaw pullers quickened their pace, saying the weather was about to get worse. The sky seemed to have overheard their remark and responded with a thunderous 0
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halt. Li had been carrying the parasol in his left hand and the flashlight in his right. After some distance, he said, his arms had grown sore, and while he was changing hands, he had tripped and fallen into the field and couldn't get out. They helped pull him up from the mud and told him to get in the rickshaw. It was then up to Hung-chien again to guide the way. After walking on for some time, he began to feel as if the rain would never stop and the road would never end. His shoes became heavier and heavier. Exhausted, he merely trudged on mechanically, not daring to stop; for once he did, his legs would never move again. Hsin-mei also relieved Ku. After a long, long while they arrived at a hamlet, stopped at an inn, and paid the rickshaw pullers. When the four of them removed their shoes, there was enough mud on them to make up for all the land fleeced by corrupt officials. Li looked as though he had taken a mud bath. The back of the pants and the vests of the other three were completely splattered with mud. Everyone's wearied eyes had turned pink from exposure to the rain, Miss Sun's lips were a pale purple from the cold. Outside the rain had stopped, but the sound of the wind and rain kept roaring in everyone's head. Hung-chien had something hot to eat, and at Hsin-mei' s insistence drank a little warm wine, then asked for some hot water to wash his feet. He fell sound asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. Hsin-mei was also very tired but was afraid Hung-chien' s snoring would disturb him. Just as he was worrying over this, sleep caught him off guard and like a club suddenly knocked him into its dark bottom, a sleep strained of all dreams, pure and complete. When they awoke, the sky was clear and bright as if nothing had ever happened. Only the yellow earth, sticky on the surface while hard at the core like toffee half-melted in the summer heat, making it slippery underfoot, showed that there had been a heavy rain. They all agreed that since they were tired out from walking so much the day before and their clothes were still damp, they should rest a day and continue on the next day. Ku Er-chien, whose enthusiasm was like a cork floating on water that even a heavy downpour couldn't knock over, suggested they take a walk in the Hstieh-tou Mountains in the afternoon. After they returned from their walk in the mountains, Hsin-mei inquired about the purchase of bus tickets. The innkeeper said that bus tickets were very hard to get. One had to crowd into the bus station before dawn, and even then couldn't get any unless he was a government employee with an I. D. , in which case he could buy tickets early through special arrangement. None of the five had any I. D., since it had never occurred to them that they would need one on the trip. At that time very few people from Shanghai ever went deep into the interior by this route. Most people went to Kunming via Hong Kong. Thus, before setting off they
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like elastic to hold so many people. The bus was like a sardine can. The people were packed in so tightly that their bodies were flattened out. But sardines' bones are set deep in their bodies, while these passengers' knees and elbows were all stuck stiffly into the bodies next to them. Moreover, sardines in a can are all laid out perfectly straight, while these passengers were coiled and twisted and bent at the waist and knee into designated geometric angles. Hsin-mei' s suitcase was too long to place on the horizontal, so he just had to set it upright in the aisle between two rows of seats and sit on top of it. Behind him was a small basket on which the woman who owned it was squatting, smoking a cigarette. Hsin-mei turned his head and asked her to please be careful not to bum his clothes with her cigarette. This only provoked the woman, who retorted, "You don't have eyes in your back. My eyes are in fine shape. I wouldn't smoke up against your pants, but you just be careful you don't knock your behind into my cigarette. " The woman' s compatriots all joined her in laughing heartily. Hung-chien was crowded up in front close to the bus driver, sitting on his small suitcase. Miss Sun had something of a seat on the long wooden bench, but it too was rather uncomfortable. The two men on either side had both shifted their thighs to make a space just big enough to fill in the small section of a monkey's tail before the monkey had evolved into man. During travel, man' s horizon becomes limited. After only a few hours on a bus, the passengers seem to be planning to spend the rest of their lives there. Once they have settled themselves, their minds and bodies seem to have found a final resting place, and having at last achieved eternal rest, they read books or newspapers, smoke, snack, and doze. For the time being, anything outside the joumey belongs to a world beyond the body and in another time. The bus driver arranged his private belongings, got into his seat, and started the motor. After a long, hard life on the road, this bus should have been celebrating its golden anniversary, but it obviously could not retire during the War of Resistance. A machine has no temperamental idiosyncrasies, but this bus, presuming on its old age, had developed a disposition that was cranky and intractable, eccentric and unfathomable. Sometimes it behaved arrogantly like a powerful official, other times pettishly like a little girl. Don' t think that the bus driver, coarse oaf that he was, understood anything about driving it. At the time of departure, the engine coughed, then the muffler spewed out fumes, and the bus jerked forward, sending passengers tumbling and knocking about in all directions, screaming in unison. Miss Sun slid from her seat; Hung-chien bumped his head painfully; and Hsin-mei nearly fell backwards into a woman's lap. With a mighty shake, the bus moved ten or twenty li in one breath then suddenly tried to stop for a rest, but the driver forced it to continue forward. This
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against his mouth and stop the flow of vomit. As he had not had any breakfast that morning, what came up was acid, which his handkerchief could not absorb, and it seeped through his fingers, dampening his clothes. Luckily he had not vomited very much. Then he began to feel uncomfortable in his seat. The suitcase was too hard and too low to sit on. His body was so tightly wedged in the crowd of people he could neither stretch his legs nor bend his back, which made it difficult for him to change his sitting position. All he could do to adjust was shift his weight by turns from right to left buttock. After leaning for less than a minute to his left, his buttock became sore, and he switched to the right, but no . matter what he did, nothing proved comfortable. Each moment became harder to bear than the last, and he doubted they would ever reach the station. But surprisingly enough, after three breakdowns, the bus arrived at a small station. The bus driver was going to eat lunch. The passengers also got off and ate at a small roadside restaurant. Hung-chien and his colleagues, as though granted a pardon, got off to stretch and move their legs. They had no appetite for lunch, and with a pot of tea they munched on some crackers they had brought along in their cases. After a brief rest when they once more had the strength to return to the bus and suffer, the bus driver said that the bus's engine had broken down, and they would have to transfer to another bus. Everyone quickly boarded the bus to get his hand luggage, and then scrambled onto the second bus. Hungchien and his colleagues unexpectedly managed to secure good seats at the back of this bus. Those who had had seats on the first bus and now found .themselves without any declared righteously that the original seating should be observed, that the Republic of China was not a land of robbers, and that people should not resort to forcible seizure. Those with seats, however, were not only physically secure but at a psychological advantage. They could dispassionately eye those without seats, while those standing merely looked out the window, not having the courage to return their gazes. This was a sick bus, stricken with malaria. When it moved, the doors and windows all shivered. Those sitting in the back of the bus received such a shaking that their bones came loose at the joints and their entrails were turned upside down. The coarse rice they had just eaten rattled and knocked about in their stomachs like dice in the cups at a gambling casino. It was dark when they reached Chinhua. Since the checked baggage had not been transferred from the first bus, they had to wait for it to be brought on the next day's bus. Hung-chien and his colleagues wearily left the bus station and put up for the night at a small hotel nearby. Since the day's misery was over and the next day's misery was still far away, they found a temporary case of mind and body, an escape into a neutral zone belonging neither to that day nor the next •
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day. The name of the hotel was "The Grand Eurasian Hotel. " Though no Europeans had ever stopped there, the name served well as a kind of prophecy and not as an empty boast. The two Chinese-style, single-storied buildings in the back were divided by wooden panels into five or six bedrooms. A tent, which served as a dining room, was erected on the bare earth in the front. The hotel relied on the aroma of wine and meat, the banging of knives on pans when the food was ready, and the cries of the waiters to draw travelers in to spend the night. The electric lights inside the tent were dazzlingly bright. The bamboo and mud-plastered walls were completely pasted over with red strips of paper on which were written the names of the best dishes of the house, including "steamed turtle," "famous local ham," "three-delicacy rice noodles," "milk coffee," and so on. Most of its dozen or so tables were occupied. At the cashier ' s counter sat a fat woman plainly and publicly displaying her fair but not so flat bosom as she nursed a child. The milk was the child's dinner, so it too must be eaten in the dining room proof that this hotel was scientifically operated. The woman' s breasts were big and heavy enough to have been included in Baudelaire' s poems on the local customs of Belgium. The child must have been sucking melted lard with sugar. The woman was not only fat on the outside, but she seemed rather thick in the head and full in the gut as well solid flesh and no soul. If she did have one, then it must have been tiny, just large enough to keep her physical body from rotting, like a little salt sprinkled on meat, since with no soul at all a body will immediately decompose. In any case, her corpulence was an indication of the restaurant's wholesome food. Sitting up against the counter she made an excellent living advertisement. Hung-chien and his colleagues checked into their rooms and washed their faces, then came out to eat, found a table, and sat down. The table top looked like Fan Chin's face in The Scholars after Butcher Hu had given him a slap. Nearly a catty of lard could have been scraped from it. They gave their order. Hung-chien and Miss Sun both said they didn' t have much appetite and wanted something bland, so each ordered a serving of rice noodles. Hsin-mei did not care for rice noodles and ordered a dish of three-delicacy mixed noodles. Suddenly noticing the pink strip of paper saying "milk coffee," Hung -chien said in surprise, " I never expected to find that here. It really lives up to its name 'Grand Eurasian Hotel' ! Why don't we start off with a cup to whet our appetites and have another one after dinner European-style?" Miss Sun wa:s neither for nor against the idea. Hsin-mei said, "I don't think it could be very good. Call the waiter over and ask him about it. "The waiter assured them at once that it was good stuff from Shanghai with the original seal intact. Hung-chien asked what the
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scratched the little girl's itch. The five sausage-like fingers were quite nimble. With one pluck she seized a louse, squeezed it, and telling the girl to spread out her palm, laid out the louse corpses one after another. Pointing at the dead lice with her other hand, the little girl counted them haphazardly, "One, two, five, eight, ten " After Miss Sun had seen and told Hsin-mei and Hung-chien about this, they all began to itch before returning to their rooms to sleep. The preceding scene, however, had put them on guard against their bedding. Miss Sun lent them her flashlight to shine on their beds, but just at that moment the battery went dead and they had to stop. Hsin-mei said, "Don't worry. Fatigue will conquer all the little pains and itches. Let's get a good night's sleep first. " Hung-chien climbed into bed, and when after a long while, nothing happened, he relaxed and was about to fall asleep when suddenly he began to itch, an itch impossible to ignore. First one place, then another, and his whole body itched. There was a strange itching sensation on his chest. It seemed the Montmartre Flea Market and the International Louse Alliance of the Temple of Palestine were all being held at this Grand Eurasian Hotel. He was bitten till there wasn' t one piece of skin left whole, and he plucked till his fingers went limp. His fingers came down with the speed of thunder and lightning on each fresh, well-defined itch, then picked it up carefully and gingerly, only to find that he hadn't caught the biting little pest after all but had wasted his energy and had nothing between his fingers but a small piece of skin. When he did finally manage to pinch one bedbug to death, he felt the sweet joy of revenge, and now having found his peace of mind, he could go to sleep. Who could have known that by killing one he had not deterred a hundred more, and his whole body still itched. Eventually, overcome with exhaustion, his consciousness began to shrink smaller and smaller till he could only push his body outside of himself. Imitating the example of Our Buddha sacrificing himself to the tigers, he gave himself up to the lice. The Germans say that a person with' a keen sense of hearing can hear a louse cough ( Er bart die Flohe husten ) . That night a pair of sharp cars could have picked up the belching of feasting fleas. Waking the next morning, Hung-chien found to his surprise that the lice had not completely devoured him, there was still enough to make a man, though not to become a Buddha. He heard Hsin-mei cry wrathfully from his bed, "Ha! Another one! Enjoying your meal off me, aren' t you?" "Are you talking to the fleas or catching them? "I' am committing suicide," replied Hsin-mei. "I caught two bedbugs and one flea, and when I crushed them, there were little specks of red all my own blood. If that's not committing suicide Ai! Another one! Uh oh, it got away Hung-chien, I can't understand how that cashier woman can still be so fat with all the blood-sucking animals they have around this hotel. "
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cards were all written under my direction by my students, so there are a dozen or so different styles of handwriting. "Shaking his head, Ku said, "Ai! As they say, 'A great teacher produces outstanding students! '" With that he pulled out a few drawers from the top, bottom, and both sides. Li Mei-t'ing said, "The others are all the same. There ' s nothing to see. " " It ' s so comprehensive!" exclaimed Ku. "I really wish I could steal it" and before Li could stop him, he had opened two drawers near the bottom of the trunk " Ai! These aren ' t cards " Miss Sun came closer to look and said uncertainly, " It looks like Western medicine. " Li said icily, "It is Western medicine, for use on the road." Too overcome by curiosity at this point to notice Li' s expression, Ku opened two more drawers and saw bottle after bottle tightly packed in cotton with the soft cork stoppers exposed. Wasn't it Western medicine? He wondered. Li could not keep from pushing Ku aside as he said, "Nothing's been lost. Let me close the trunk." "Nobody would have stolen anything," said Hung-chien maliciously, "but the porter might have been careless in handling the trunk and broken some of the glass bottles. You should make a careful check. " " I don ' t think so. I stuffed everything carefully with cotton," replied Li, as he began instinctively opening the drawers. Half the trunk was filled with Western medicine, including yatron, cinchona, sulfate of quinine, and formamint, all in their original wrappers. Nothing had been left out. "Mr. Li, you couldn't use all that by yourself!" exclaimed Hsin-mei. "Did Kao Sung-nien ask you to bring it for the school?" Like a drowning man suddenly given a rope, Li said gratefully, not letting go, "Yes, that's right! You can't get Western medicine in the interior. If by chance someone should get sick, then he'll appreciate what I, Li Mei-t'ing, have done. "Smiling, Hsin-mei said, "Let me thank you in advance! With the cards in the upper half of the trunk if all the books in China were burned, Mr. Li alone could teach Chinese literature. And with the medicine in the bottom half, if the Chinese all died of disease, Mr. Li could still stay alive. " "Nonsense!" said Ku. "Mr. Li is not only the school's benefactor, but also our savior. " Just as curiosity cost Adam and Eve their paradise, so Ku Erchien lost the paradise Li had settled him in because of his curiosiy. No amount of flattery could ever bring back Li' s good will, and Ku' s next few sentences nearly sent Ku straight to hell. "I've run a temperature these last but never mind. When it gets couple of days, and my throat's a little sore really bad, I' n· ask you for three or four fonnamints to suck on. " Hsin-mei said that the several days' delay in Chinhua had cost them quite a bit of money. If every one would take out the money he was carrying, they could see how much they had altogether. As he had surmised on the boat, Li and Ku had not brought with them the entire amount of the travel allowance
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provided by the school; the two of them also probably held back a few dollars for cigarettes. The rest of them each had about eighty dollars left, and they hadn't yet paid their hotel bill. In any case, they could not make it to the school and decided to send a telegram to Kao Sung-nien asking him to wire them some money to the Central Bank at Chian. Hsin-mei said that until they got to Chian they would have to pool all their money for general use. Not a copper could be wasted. When Li asked about cigarettes, he replied that from then on no one was to buy cigarettes and would just have to give up smoking. Hung-chien said, "I ' ve already given it up, and Miss Sun doesn' t smoke at all." Hsin-mei said, "I smoke a pipe and have tobacco with me, so I won't need to buy any on the way. But I won' t smoke any more from now on, so you won' t get envious watching me. " Li was silent, then suddenly said, "I just bought two cans of tobacco yesterday, so of course we can still smoke on the way as long as we don' t buy any more. " That evening the five of them bought third-class sleeping car tickets and boarded the train at Chinhua, due to arrive in Yingt' an early the next morning. A few amorous lice who were willing to brave the dangers of the long journey accompanied them all the way. The train arrived at Yingt' an early in the morning. By the time they picked up their baggage, the bus had already left. The only decent hotel in town had hung out a "Full House" sign, so their only choice was to put up at a small inn. People stayed on the top floor of the inn, while tea and rice were sold on the ground floor. With houses on either side of the narrow street, the sun rarely shone into the teahouse on the ground floor. Rice bowls were piled on a table at the entrance along with a few pieces of half-cooked fat meat on a large plate, meat which turned out to be red-cooked pork. Now cold and black, the pork was like a once prosperous man who was down on his luck and had lost his fotmerly ruddy complexion. Next to this was a plate of steamed bread which, from a distance, looked like a once pure-white virgin who has been soiled. It was covered with black specks and streaks. When one came closer, the black specks flew off and disappeared in the surrounding shadows. In fact, they were flies. These, along with mosquitoes and bedbugs, arc considered the "three companions of winter"" at small inns. As it was now just late autumn, their steadfastness in winter was not yet apparent. The only access to the second floor was by a bamboo ladder, and it was impossible to move Li' s metal trunk upstairs. The innkeeper, however, patted his chest and assured Li that it would be quite safe to leave it on the ground floor. Li consoled himself, "When the trunk was mishandled on the train and didn' t get here, didn't someone else look after it for me in the same way? I don' t think anything will get lost. Wasn't it several days before it finally arrived in •
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a very sheltered and pampered upbringing. You don' t know the hardships of the road. If you want to find an inn without flies you' 11 have to go abroad. I assure you, you won't get sick from eating it. And even if you do, I have plenty of medicine in my trunk." He contorted his features as he spoke; his twisted face, rather than his original, looked more appropriate for him. Hsinmei just then took a drink of the freshly boiled water in Li' s room. After ·taking one swallow, he frowned. "I get thirstier the more I drink this. It tastes smoky. It could be used instead of kerosene to light the lamp if you ask me, the stuff in this inn isn' t dependable. You usually don' t have ham until winter, and now it is only autumn. Who knows how old an antique their ham is. Instead of ordering first, let' s go down and look around a bit before we decide." From the wall the waiter took a pitch black, greasy object and . offered it for their inspection, repeatedly saying, "How delicious!" his own mouth watering as he spoke, fearful only that the fat meat would waste away under the greedy stares of the guests. Wriggling and squirming from its greasy slumber, a maggot on the meat awoke. Li saw it and was repulsed by the sight; from a distance his mouth pointed toward it and he exclaimed, "We can't have it. " The waiter quickly stuck his finger over the tender, soft, white object and pressing down lightly, drew a shiny, black, oily streak like a freshly poured asphalt road across the filthy surface of the meat. At the same time he said, "It's nothing!" Infuriated, Ku asked the waiter, "You think we're blind?" "Outrageous," they cried. Ku prattled away, even dragging in the bed plank incident. The commotion brought in the innkeeper. Meanwhile two other maggots in the meat also heard the noise and poked their heads out for a look. The waiter, no longer able "to do away with the corpse and destroy the evidence," merely retorted, "If you won' t eat it, then other people will. I' 11 eat it to show you e innkeeper took the pipe from his mouth and remonstrated, "Those aren't bugs. They don't hurt anything. ' meat sprouts. "' H ung-c h.ten ' s rep1y was, "All Those are ' meat sprouts ' the food in this place sprouts, not just the meat. " The innkeeper didn't catch on, but seeing everyone laugh, he also became upset and muttered something to the waiter in the local dialect. In the end, the five of them went out to eat at the one and only respectable-looking hotel in town. Li' s cards had little effect on the stationmaster, who said there was nothing he could do for them. They must register for the buses like everyone else and they would certainly have tickets in three days. The five of them grew alarmed. Room and board for three days would be a considerable expense. If they were to go on delaying like that, their money would probably never get them to Chian. In low spirits they returned to the inn. Opposite the inn they saw a woman leaning against a door smoking a cigarette. The woman
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had prominent cheekbones and a thin face. Her hair, waved by some unidentifiable instrument, resembled a plum tree in full bloom in a Chinese impressionist painting. Around her neck she wore a white silk scarf and was dressed in a green silk Chinese dress which was dazzlingly resplendent, but shiny like the material high-class girls used for lining. Hsin-mei nudged Hungchien's arm and said, "It must be 'there's a beautiful gem here.' " Hungchien said with a laugh, "I was thinking the same thing." Hearing them recite from the Confucian Analects and not understanding what it was about, Ku Er-chien asked, "What?" Li Mei-t'ing was more clever. "Er-chien," he asked, "how do you suppose there could be a woman dressed like that in a What are you reciting from the Analects for?" "Come to place like this? our room and see," replied Hung-chien. When Ku heard she was a prostitute, he gawked at her, unable to take his eyes off her. When the woman, who had been giving Miss Sun a careful scrutiny from head to toe, suddenly discovered she had Ku' s attention, she flashed him a big smile, revealing a mouthful of fresh red gums, which bulged like a hero's chest. Sparsely studded with a few yellowed teeth, the upper jaw was too bashful to show itself. Ku blushed in confusion, and thankful that no one had noticed, hurried into the inn after Miss Sun. Hsin-mei and Hung-chien hadn't slept well the whole night on the train, so they returned to their rooms to rest. Li knocked on the door and entered, asking them what wonderful things they had to show him. Neither of them felt like getting up, so they let him look at the wall graffiti by himself. Li glanced out the window, then turned and cried, "You young men are up to no good! No wonder you wanted to take this room. It must be because Wang Mei-yli' s bedroom is opposite yours, just four or five feet away, close enough to jump across. Get up and take a look. There's a red blanket on her bed and a large mirror on the table with perfume bottles on it - Ai! You bachelors are really sneaky. This is no joking matter Ai, she's come up!" Hsin-mei and Hung-chien craned their necks to see from their beds. Sure enough, the woman who had just been leaning against the door smoking a cigarette was standing at the window. They hastily drew their heads back and lay down. Li casually leaned against the window smoking a cigarette and gazing upward, taking in the view of the roofs opposite with his dark glasses. Hsin-mei and Hung-chien waited impatiently on their beds and were just about to ask him to leave when suddenly they heard the woman say, "Where did you all come from?" Li started as though roused from a dream and said , "Are you talking to me? We ' re from Shanghai. " There was nothing funny about these remarks, but Hsin-mei and Hung-chien broke out laughing so hard that they pulled the covers over their heads, then quickly lifted them off in order to catch what followed. "T' m from Shanghai, too," the woman
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said. "I came here as a refugee. What do you all do?" Li subconsciously reached into his pocket to pull out a card, then caught himself and replied with dignity, "We' re university professors. " "Oh, you teach?" said the woman. "There ' s no money in teaching. Why not set yourself up in a business?" The two pulled up the covers again. Li merely grunted in response. The woman said, "My father was a teacher too-" The two were laughing so hard under the covers they cried out in pain. "Who's that woman with you? Does she teach, too?" "Yes." "I've been to school myself. How much does she make?" Afraid she would make fun of Miss Sun for not earning as much as she did, Hsin-mei coughed loudly. Li merely replied, "Quite a lot, quite a lot for a cigarette? Here, take one" Hsin-mei and Hungchien were so tense they didn't dare breathe, and when they heard Li' s next remarks, they could hardly believe their ears "Tell me, bus tickets are very hard to get. You-you know quite a few people. Can you think of any way? We will thank you properly. " The woman let out a long stream of words, spoken quickly and crisply, like a steel knife slicing up a turnip, the gist of which was that if one could not get bus tickets, one could get a ride on a military convoy. She knew a Major Hou who would be coming to see her in a while, and Li could come over then and negotiate with him directly. Li thanked her profusely. After the woman had left, Li turned to Chao and Fang, and with a triumphant swirl of his head, stood and looked at them without saying a word. They both commended him for having hit upon such a brilliant idea and for being so very skillful. Li wished he could have jumped out of his body and patted himself on the shoulder, saying, "Li, ol' boy, you really are something! " He then bragged openly, "I know that sort of women have many of their own special ways of doing things and can sometimes be useful. That's what Meng Ch' ang-chtin had in mind when he befriended men who could crow like a cock or steal like a dog. " After Li had left, Hsin-mei and Hung-chien fell asleep. In his dreams, Hung-chien sensed something hitting against the dense casing of his sleep. It poked a tiny hole through, and his entire sleep dispersed like boiling water injected through an icy surface. When he awoke all he heard was "Hey! Hey!" He stepped groggily from bed and saw Wang Mei-yti yelling toward them from across the way. He was about to close the window and ignore her, when he suddenly remembered Li ' s negotiations with her. Hsin-mei also woke up. Wang Mei-yti said, "Where' s the one in the dark glasses? Major Hou is here." When Li Mei-t' ing was informed, he quickly took out his Western trousers and tie which lay pressed under his mattress. He had already shaved and though his skin was cut in ·several places, his whole face shone with a ruddy glow. On his way out, he said that he couldn't go to a
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prostitute's room empty-handed and would have to spend some money. How was this social expense to he reckoned? He had just doled out one cigarette already. Everyone assured him that as long as the negotiations went off smoothly, not only would the expenses be shared, but there would be a reward for his service as well. Li asked if they would like to go to Hsin-mei' s room to listen in through the window. "After all, there' s nothing secretive about this," he insisted. The others said they were not interested. Since it was now four o'clock, they would go out for a stroll and meet at six for dinner at the restaurant where they had had breakfast. At the appointed time Li came, brimming with excitement. They quickly asked him how it had turned out. He replied that the truck would leave the next day at noon. As they plied him with more questions, he explained that Major Hou would come at nine o'clock that evening to check the luggage, and if they had any questions, they could ask him directly. The military transports were going to Shaokuan and each could take one passenger and one or two pieces of luggage. Once they got to Shaokuan, they could take a train into Hunan. The cost would be twice that of a bus. "But," said Li, "we have to wait everywhere for bus tickets and each wait takes a few days. This way we'll save on room and board." Hsin-mei said hesitantly, "It sounds very good, but what about the money the school wired to Chian?" "That's easy," replied Li. "All we have to do is send a telegram to President Kao asking him to wire it to Shaokuan instead." Hung-chien said, "If we go to Shaokuan and then double back to Hunan, won't that make the trip longer?" Li replied hotly, "There's a limit to my ability. I can only manage this much. If you have so much influence, maybe Major Hou will dispatch a special car to take you right up to the school. " Ku hurriedly put in, "I ' m sure Mr. Li couldn' t have made a mistake. We' 11 send a telegram the first thing tomorrow morning, and at noon we can board the trucks and get the hell out of here. If I have to wait around this hideous place five more days, my hair will all turn grey. " Still vexed, Li said, "I' 11 take care of the money for the tea today at Wang Mei-yti ' s myself. " Controlling his anger, Hung-chien said, "Even if we don't take the trucks, everyone ought to chip in for the social expenses. Those are two separate matters." Hsin-mei kicked Hung-chien under the table, while he babbled on about something else. In the end Li and Fang did not start a quarrel, and Miss Sun's bulging eyes retumed to their normal state. Shortly after they returned to the inn, the waiter yelled from the foot of the ladder with his mouth full of food, "Major Hou is here!" and they all hurried downstairs. Major Hou had a large orange-peel nose with a face appended to it. The face was complete in every detail and the space for the eyebrows and the nose had not been squeezed out. There were a few pimples
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on the tip of his nose which looked like unripe strawberries. He talked and laughed loudly. One could tell at a glance that he was a heroic type. When Major Hou saw Li, he said with a smile, "What happened? When I came back to Little Wang's you'd already run off. Where did you go?" Li Mei-t' ing made some excuses and quickly introduced his three colleagues. Miss Sun had not yet come down. "Our trucks can't carry private passengers," said Major Hou, launching into a long declamation. "Taking passengers is against military regulations. Understand? But it seems to me as teachers at a national university you are after all government employees, so I take a chance and try to accommodate you. Understand? I don' t want a cent of your money. You get by on little enough as it is. I'm not interested in those few extra dollars. Understand? But the drivers under me and the escort soldiers need a little cigarette money. And if it's too little, you won't want to bother taking it out. Understand? I don't want any money. You don't have much luggage, do you? You don't have any contraband from Shanghai, do you? Ha, ha. You educated people sometimes go for petty advantages." When he laughed, his cheek muscles pulled his nostrils out even larger. They replied in unison that they had no contraband. Li indicated his large metal trunk and said, "This is one piece. There' s more upstairs jor Hou' s eyes suddenly grew nearsighted, and he stared at the trunk squint-eyed for a long time before he finally seemed to get it into focus. As though firing a machine gun he said, "The devil! Whose is that? What's in it? I can't take that " Suddenly he grew nearsighted again as he gazed wide-eyed at Miss Sun who had just come down the ladder. "Is she traveling with you too? I can't take her along either. I was called away just now before I had a chance to say more than a few words to you. I didn't make it clear. Women can't come along. If we could take women, I'd have taken Little Wang One, Two, and Three and set off long ago. Ha, ha." Miss Sun was so furious she uttered a shrill screech. Hung-chien waited until Major Hou had entered the door opposite before he let out a curse at his already vanished broad back, "You dirty bastard!" Hsin-mei and Ku urged Miss Sun not to get upset, "Men like that never have anything nice to say. " Miss Sun said, "I'm the only one preventing you from taking the truck " "Along with Mr. Li' s treasure chest," put in Hung-chien. "Mr. Li, you "Li Mei-t'ing apologized to Miss Sun, "I !ailed to handle things properly and subjected you to insults." With that said Hung-chien could no longer disparage him. When the plan fell through, Li was the first to say, "Thank God, " adding, "It may be a blessing in disguise. People who carry guns don't listen to reason anyway. With Miss Sun along, we have to be especially careful. Besides, going to Hunan via Shaokuan would have added too many extra miles '
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and made the trip too costly. Mr. Fang was quite right. " During the few days in Yingt' an, Li treated Hung-chien with new respect and was especially polite to him. Hung-chien, however, despised him all the more and behind Li' s back said laughingly to Hsin-mei, "He' s afraid I' 11 dispute with him over those few dollars he spent on that woman. That's how low he is. If I were him, I'd have paid it myself. " At night when he couldn't fall asleep, Hungchien would feel sorry for himself, regretting more and more that he had come. Associating with people like Li Mei-t' ing and Ku Er-chien was such a shameful debasement. The last ten or fifteen days of travel had been wearing enough to sap his will. One day, strolling with Hsin-mei, he heard a peanut vendor speaking in his native dialect. When he questioned the vendor, he found that the vendor was in fact a fellow villager who had ended up there as a refugee. The vendor simply stated on which street he lived in the county seat, neither complaining to him of the hardships he had suffered nor asking to borrow money to go home. Both relieved and moved, Hung-chien said, "He must have met with so many rebuffs from his fellow villagers that he' s stopped talking about it. I really don't care to think how many setbacks I'll have to go through before I become hardened into such a state of utter despair as that. " Hsin-mei laughed at him for getting so downhearted and said, "If you can't take a blow any better than that, you'll never have a successful love affair." Hung-chien said, "Who's willing to spend something like twenty years on Miss Su like you did?" "I ' ve been feeling depressed lately myself, " admitted Hsin-mei. "I woke up in the middle of the night last night and suddenly started wondering if Su Wen-wan ever thought of me." Reminded of himself and Tang Hsiao-fu, Hung-chien's heart suddenly flared up like a tongue of flame, and he asked, "Think about you or miss you? We must think about any number of people in one day relatives, friends, enemies, and even people who have nothing to do with us that we've met before. To really miss someone, keep him constantly in mind, and wish to be close to him is pretty rare. Life keeps people too busy. It doesn' t allow us to focus our full attention and yearn for someone without interruption. The time we spend in a whole lifetime thinking about the person we love most probably wouldn't add up to one whole hour. Beyond that our thoughts just brush past him. We' re only thinking about him. " Smiling, Hsin-mei said, "Well, I hope you can spare me a few seconds of your time in the future. I ' 11 tell you one thing. After that first time I met you, I was always thinking about you and never stopped hating you for a moment. Too bad I never checked my watch and added up the time." "You see," said Hung-chien, "love rivals think about each other more often than lovers do. Maybe Miss Su really was dreaming of you then, which is why you suddenly thought of her. " "How does anyone
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have time to dream about lost lonely souls like us? Besides, she belongs to Ts' ao Yuan-lang now. If she's dreaming of me, then she's being unfaithful to her husband." Seeing how serious he was, Hung-chien doubled up with laughter. "You politician, you really are a tyrant! Whoever becomes your wife won't even be free to dream. You' 11 send secret agents out to spy on her . " unconsctous. As usual, the bus to Nanch' eng three days later was so crowded that there was barely footroom. The five of them stood in the pack of people, consoling one another, "We ' 11 be in N anch ' eng in half a day. It won ' t . matter if we have to stand up for a while." A greasy-faced fellow in a short jacket spread his knees out as in the fourth boxing position and settled into his seat as though he were a permanent fixture of the bus. In front of him he placed a smoothly rounded burlap sack, which was apparently filled with rice. The sack was about as high as a seat and was right next to Miss Sun~ Hsinmei said to her, "Why don't you sit down? It'd be a lot more comfortable than a seat." Miss Sun was also getting tired of being jostled and tossed about while standing, and so, with a word of apology to the greasy-faced fellow, she prepared to sit down. Instead, the man immediately jumped to his feet and held out both hands to stop her. "This is rice, " he bellowed, his eyes rolling. "Do you know that? Rice for eating!" Miss Sun was too stunned to speak. "So what if it is rice?" asked Hsin-mei glaring at him angrily. "If a girl like her sits down for a while, it won't crush your rice. " "You're a man and don' t even understand that, " said the fellow. "Rice goes in the mouth to be eaten " Miss Sun indignantly stamped her foot and said, "I won't sit! Mr. Chao, don't pay any attention to him." Hsin-mei would not agree, and Fang, Li, and Ku all joined in the quarrel, berating the man for being so rude as to occupy a seat himself while obstructing others with his sack of rice. Since he wouldn't let anyone sit on the rice sack, he should give up his own seat immediately. Outnumbered, he softened his manner and said, "If one of you men sits there, fine, but for the lady to sit down, that's out of the question! This is rice. It goes in the mouth and is eaten." Miss Sun declared for the second time that she wanted to stand up aU the way to Nanch' eng. Hsin-mei and the others said, "We don't want to sit down. It's the young lady who wants to. So what do you have to say to that?" Without any other choice, the fellow sized Miss Sun up for a moment with his red eyes, then took out a small bag of clothes he had been sitting upon, picked out an old pair of cotton trousers, and covered the rice sack with them, providing as it were a gas mask for the rice. He then said gruffly, "Sit down, then!" Miss Sun wouldn't sit at first, but unable to take the jolting of the bus and at the insistence of her companions, she sat down. Sitting diagonally across from
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Miss Sun was a young, very fair-skinned woman dressed in mourning, but with lips and eyelids painted a bright red. She had delicate eyebrows, tiny eyes, and a small nose. Her facial features were so dull and colorless that it seemed they could have been wiped away with a hot towel. When she spoke she twisted her head around and exposed her decayed teeth. She had been watching the fracas and chose this moment to strike up a conversation with Miss Sun. She asked in her Soochow dialect if Miss Sun were from Shanghai and cursed the people of the interior, calling them a rude and impossible breed. She explained that her husband had been working as a clerk for the Chekiang provincial government and had fallen ill and died a short time ago. She was on her way to Kweilin to seek the protection of her brother-in-law. When she learned that Miss Sun had four traveling companions, she was filled with envy, wailing in self-pity, "I am alone and friendless with only one servant to accompany me. I don' t have your good fortune! " She also indicated that she would like to go with them to Hengyang, so as to have someone to look after her. Their conversation was just getting lively when the bus stopped for a morning snack, and most passengers got off to eat breakfast. The widow, staying on the bus, opened her basket and pressed Miss Sun to have some of the rice cakes she had brought along. Afraid the widow would have trouble dividing up her cakes, Chao and Fang also got off the bus for a walk. Seeing them get off, Ku pulled out half a cigarette and puffed away in earnest. Li glanced around, and noticing there were few people about , said to the widow, "You shouldn ' t have said you were a widow traveling alone. There are many bad people on the road, and lots of eyes and ears on the bus. Your remarks may give people wrong ideas." The widow threw him a glance and, giving her ·mouth a tug at the corners, said, " You are such a good man." Then to the man in his twenties sitting on her left, she said, "Ah Fu, let this gentleman sit down." With his slick, greasy hair and shiny face. Ah Fu looked like an oil-soaked loquat seed. As he was dressed in a blue cotton robe and was sitting next to the woman, one would not have guessed that he was a servant. Now that the woman had exposed his status, and he was made to give up his seat besides, he pressed his lips together and reluctantly stood up. After a show of politeness, Li squeezed his way into the seat. Sickened by what she saw, Miss Sun also got off the bus. By the time everyone had returned to the bus and it started off, Li was munching away on rice cakes and the widow and Ah Fu were smoking cigarettes. Hung-chien said to Hsin-mei in English, "Guess whose cigarettes those are." Hsin-mei said with a laugh, "As if I didn't know! That guy is an expert liar. I really don' t believe those two cans of tobacco of his haven ' t been used up by now. " "His tobacco stinks," said Hung-chien, "and now with three mouths puffing away at once, 339
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it's really unbearable. I should have worn a face mask. Why don't you smoke your pipe a little to dispel the stench of his tobacco?" When they arrived in Nanch' eng, the widow and her servant put up in the same hotel as the five of them. According to Li, Miss Sun should share a room with the widow while Ah Fu slept in a room by himself. Miss Sun made it clear from her tone that she would not stay with the widow, despite the fact that Li repeatedly hinted that there was not much money left and they should save on the hotel expenses as much as possible. Without even asking Li' s permission, the widow went ahead and took one room for herself and her servant. They all noted this with surprise, but Li, overcome with indignation, muttered to himself, "There must be a separation of the sexes and distinctions by rank." Ku borrowed a current newspaper, and after reading no more than a few lines cried out, "Bad news. Mr. Chao, Mr. Li, bad news! Miss Sun." The Japanese had invaded Ch' angsha. The situation was critical. The five of them conferred for a while and decided that since the money they had would never be enough for them to return to Shanghai, they would just have to get to Chian as quickly as possible, pick up the remittance, and then see how matters stood before further plans were made. Li wasted no time telling the widow the urgent news about Ch' angsha, embellishing it with details and painting such a vivid picture of the action it seemed as if the Japanese War Ministry had briefed him with a special intelligence report. The woman was so terrified that she said over and over in a delicate voice, "Ai ya! Mr. Li, what should I do!" Li Mei-t' ing said that superior people such as himself could always find a way and knew how to manage in a crisis and extricate themselves from desperate situations. "Servants are unreliable. They have no know-how if they did they wouldn't be servants! If you go with him, you're sure to meet with disaster. " Shortly after Li had left the widow, Ah Fu could be heard speaking gruffly in her room, "Chief P' an sent me to accompany you. Along the way you take up with everyone you set eyes on. Who knows what sort of man he is? How am I going to report to Chief P' an?" "What right have you to be jealous?" asked the widow. "Did I ask you to interfere? I give you a little dignity and you turn around and act like a king! You don' t appreciate the honor, you ungrateful rotten egg!" Ah Fu laughed scornfully and said, "Who made me a cuckold? It's not enough for you to make your late husband a cuckold. Now you have to make me into one - Ai ya ya " and he ran out the door. The widow raged in her room, "I ' 11 give you a good smack and teach you to show respect to me. Impertinent wretch. Take that. Next time don't think " Catching the insinuations behind their remarks, Li ' s heart turned as sour as the juice from a green plum. He wished he could have demanded clarification from the widow and •
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given Ah Fu another good smack. He peered anxiously outside. Ah Fu was lurking in front of the widow's room, rubbing his swollen red cheek with his left hand. Catching sight of Li, he muttered, "Why don' t you take a look at yourself in a piss-pot? You think you can sweet-talk your way in and take " Losing his patience, Li burst from his room, demanding, "You liberties swine. whom are you cursing?" Ah Fu replied, "I'm cursing you, you swine. " "The swine is cursing me," said Li. "I'm cursing the swine," said Ah Fu. Their "chicken produces the egg, " and "egg produces the chicken" sentence practice had no end to it, but in any case, whoever shouted the loudest spoke the truth. Afraid there'd be trouble, Ku pulled Li inside, saying, "What's the use of picking a quarrel with a mean rascal like that?" "Come out here if you have the guts!" shouted Ah Fu with exaggerated authority. "Don't hide in a cave like a turtle. You think I'm afraid of you" Li was all set to burst out the door again, when Hsin-mei and Hung-chien, unable to put up with the quarrel any more, also came out and began shouting at Ah Fu, "He's not paying any attention to you. What are you running your mouth off for?" Somewhat unnerved, Ah Fu nevertheless kept on, "Rubbish! I' II curse anyone I want to. What's it to you?" His pipe sticking up like a cannon on an old-fashioned battleship, Hsin-mei rubbed his palms together and clapped them crisply; then clenching his fists, he said, "What if I don't like what I see?" Ah Fu' s eyes were filled with terror, but before Hsin-mei had finished speaking, the widow sprang from her room and demanded, "How dare you bully my servant? Two ganging up against one. How shameless! What kind of men are you, bullying a widow like me? You goodfor-nothings!" Hsin-mei and Hung-chien quickly made off. The widow., laughing scornfully in triumph, flung forth a few curses, then pulled Ah Fu back into her room. After Hsin-tnei had admonished Li Mei-t' ing, Hungchien said to Hsin-mei in private, "When that tigress came springing out, Miss Sun should have gone out for our side. She'd have been a match for her. " The rest of that day whenever the widow encountered the five of them she pretended not to notice them, while Ah Fu, despite his bulging face, narrowed his eyes and curled his lips at Li Mei-t' ing. Whenever the widow called "Ah Fu," her voice dripped with honey. Li sighed half the night. · They stayed another day at the hotel. Whenever Miss Sun ran into the widow that day she would nod and smile, and if Hsin-mei and the others were not with her, they might even exchange a few remarks about how difficult it was to get bus tickets, or how bored they were waiting at the hotel. Hsin-mei and the others, however, seemed to have just mastered the art of making themselves invisible. Whenever the widow met them on the street, she did not acknowledge their existence. The next day when they boarded the bus, •
343
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Hsin-mei and his colleagues checked all their luggage; with little luggage in their hands, they were all able to push their way aboard and grab a seat. The widow had brought several small unchecked pieces with her. When Ah Fu boarded the bus, he looked just like a VIP shaking hands with the guests at a reception who wished he could have borrowed a few anns from the thousandarmed Goddess of Mercy. Seeing the two of them without seats, Hsin-mei said with a grin, "Good thing we quarreled with them yesterday. Otherwise we' d now have to give up our seats, and I don' t want to. " The word "I" was spoken with special emphasis. Li. Mei-t' ing crimsoned, and they all suppressed a smile. The widow gazed over at Miss Sun, reminding Miss Sun of the wide-eyed beseeching look of a cow or horse, since the eyes are the tongue in a dumb animal. Miss Sun' s heart softened and she dropped her eyes, but still felt uncomfortable sitting there. It was not until the bus started off and a furtive glance told her the widow had also found a seat that she relaxed. · The bus arrived at Ningtu in the aftetnoon. Hsin-mei and the others quickly went to pick up the luggage. There was some for everyone, but two pieces had not yet arrived. "What rotten luck! " they cried in unison. "Heaven knows how many days we'll have to wait this time." Inwardly they were all worrying about the money. When they inquired at the hotel opposite the bus station, they found that only two double rooms were left. "How will that do?" said Hsin-mei. "Miss Sun should have a room by herself. A single would be enough. The four of us have to have two rooms." Without hesitation Miss Sun said, "It doesn't matter to me. Just add a bamboo cot to Mr. Chao and Mr. Fang's room. Won't that save trouble and money?" They checked into the rooms, put down their things, and totaled up the expenses for the day. They all agreed they would have to make do with something simple for dinner, and they were just about to call the waiter when suddenly they heard someone shouting from another room , " Waiter! Waiter! " accompanied by coughing and gasping noises. It was the widow's voice. A loud quarrel ensued. By listening carefully, they learned that the widow had ordered the hotel food and became nauseated after taking a few bites. They then learned that the food had been fried in wood oil. Ah Fu, that coarse creature, had gulped down two bowls of rice in one breath without even noticing the odor. Rice and vegetables all came up. "He even threw up last night' s dinner! " exclaimed the widow, as if he were supposed to have taken the meal eaten in Nanch'eng all the way to Kweilin. Li Mei-t'ing clapped his hands and said, "It must be heaven's punishment. Now we '11 see whether that rascal gets out of hand again. We don't need to try the food in this hotel any more. Those two have already acted as guinea pigs for us." The door of •
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the widow' s room was wide open when the five of them left the hotel. Ah Fu was moaning and groaning on the bed, while she was leaning on the table retching into a spittoon. The waiter held a glass of water in one hand and was patting her on the back with the other. "Ai, she's throwing up, too!" said Li. "Throwing up is like yawning," said Hsin-mei. "It's contagious. Especially when I feel seasick, I can't stand watching someone else vomiting." A smile tugged at the corners of Miss Sun's eyes and she said, "Mr. Li, you have medicine for settling the stomach. If you gave her some, she'd certainly " Li Mei-t' ing pretended to scream and jump about on the street, crying, "Miss Sun, you're really horrible! Now you're making fun of me, too. I ' m going to tell your Uncle Chao. " That evening Hsin-mei, Hung-chien, and Miss Sun made a polite pretense of yielding to each other for a while over who was to sleep on the bamboo cot. Miss Sun was compelled by Hsin-mei and Hung-chien to sleep on the bed, not as if this was a privilege a woman should enjoy, but a duty she . should fulfill. Hsin-mei was too big for a bamboo cot, so Hung-chien ended up sleeping on it, sandwiched between the beds. He felt so cramped that when he lay down all he wanted to do was toss and turn, yet he was so restricted he didn't dare make a move. After a short while Hung-chien heard Hsin-mei' s breathing become regular and assumed he had already fallen asleep. That guy got off easy, he thought. Here I am wedged between these two beds without nets acting as a screen separating him from Miss Sun . He then found the oil lamp on the table too bright. He put up with it for a while, but then unable to bear it any longer, he stepped softly from his bed thinking he'd get a drink of cold tea and blow out the lamp before getting back in. While making his way • along the edge of the bed to the table, he inadvertently glanced at Miss Sun and noticed how clean and fresh her face was in sleep. A shock of loose hair had somehow covered her face, giving it a seductive look of abandon. The tips of her hair over the top of her nose rose and fell with her breathing. Watching it made his face itch for her, and he wished he could have reached out and brushed the hair aside. Her eyelashes seemed to flutter slightly in the lamplight. He gave a start, thinking his eyes must have been mistaken. Then her breathing seemed suddenly to become short. When he looked again, her face, immobile in sleep, appeared to redden. He hastily blew out the light and slipped back into bed but remained apprehensive for a long time. They rose early the next morning. Li saw the previous day's newspaper on the cashier's counter. The first item of news was thatCh' angsha had been burned to the ground. It gave him such a shock that he completely lost his voice. It wasn't until a minute later that he regained it and could speak. They were all so upset they had no time to feel hungry, which saved them the •
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expense of breakfast. Hung-chien didn't know what to do, but it was as though this weren't his affair alone. With others along, there was always a way. Li sighed woefully and said, "What bad luck! This trip has really had more than its share of bad luck! There were plenty of places in Shanghai wanting to keep me on or offering me a job, but I just let myself get carried away. I couldn't refuse an old friend like Kao Sung-nien. Now after putting up with so much hardship, I have to give up halfway and go back! But who is to pay for the trip?" Hsin-mei said, "Even if we wanted to go back, there's no money. I say we go on to Chian and pick up the remittance from the school, then assess the situation from there. There ' s no use making plans this early." Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. Ku suddenly said • brightly, "What a mess it' ll be if the money from the school hasn' t been sent. " The four of them all replied impatiently that he worried too much, but his remarks had called up an echo in their consciousness, and the reasons they gave one another weren't meant to refute Ku so much as to assure themselves. Ku immediately tried to retract his remark, like a snake trying to draw its tail back into its hole after it has been pulled, and he said, "I know such a thing is impossible. I was just mentioning it." Hung-chien said, "I think the problem could be easily solved. One of us should go there first. If Chian has the money, it'll save all five of us from going there for nothing and wasting a lot of money on bus fare." "Good idea!" said Hsin-mei. "We can divide the work. Some of us can wait for the luggage while others can pick up the money. That'll liven things up a bit, and we won' t all be stuck in one place waiting. The money was remitted to me. I'll take my luggage and go to Chian first. Hung-chien can come along to help me out. " Miss Sun said gently but firmly, "I' ll go with Mr. Chao too. My baggage has also arrived. " Giving Hsin-mei a sharp x-ray glance, Li Mei-t' ing said, "All right. That leaves just me and Mr. Ku. But all our money has gone into the general funds. How much are you going to leave us?" Ku smiled apologetically at Li and said, "My luggage is all here. I think I'll go with them. There's no point staying here any longer. " Li' s face flushed with anger as he said, "So you' re all going off and leaving me here alone. All right. I don't care. So much for the 'comradeship of the road! ' When the going gets tough, isn't it every man for himself? To tell you the truth, once you get to Chian and pick up the money, if you don' t give me a cent, it won' t bother Li Mei-t' ing at all! If I were to sell the medicine in my trunk, I could easily get about a thousand dollars for it in the interior. Just see if I can' t beg my way to Shanghai. "
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Hsin-mei said in surprise, "Why, Mr. Li, how could you arrive at such a gross misunderstanding?" Ku said soothingly, "Mr. Mei-t' ing, I won' t go. I' 11 wait for the luggage here with you." Hsin-mei said, "Just what should we do, then? How about if I go first by myself? Mr. Li, you wouldn ' t suspect me of embezzling the general funds you want me to leave my luggage behind as security?" He finished with a laugh to lighten the severity of his tone, but the smile was stiff and obstinate as though stuck on with dried paste. "Nonsense! Nonsense!" repeated Li. "I'm certainly not judging others • with a petty man's mind." "The hell you aren't!" muttered Hung-chien. "I just don't think Mr. Fang's suggestion is entirely practical forgive me, Mr. Fang, but I always speak frankly. I mean, for example, Mr. Chao, after you get to Chian and pick up the money , will you go on ahead or turn around and go back? You can't decide that by yourself. We all have to learn the news on the spot and come to a common decision " "So, " continued Hung-chien, "we four will go on first, following the majority's decision. Aren't we the majority?" Li Mei-t' ing was without words. Chao and Ku hastily intervened, "As friends in adversity, we' 11 all stick together. " After lunch Hung-chien returned to his room, complaining that Hsin-mei was too soft in the way he had given in to Li at every turn. "Your tendency to concede in order to accommodate everyone is really getting us nowhere! A leader sometimes has to be ruthless." Miss Sun said with a laugh, "It was so funny to see Mr. Fang and Mr. Li glaring at each other and panting. It looked like they were about to swallow each other up." Hung-chien laughed and said, "Damn! You saw the whole disgraceful scene. I had no intention of swallowing him. Swallowing something like that Li Mei-t' ing would wreck my stomach. And anyway, was I panting? I don't think so. " Miss Sun said, "Mr. Li was blowing hot air, while you were snorting cold air. " Hsin-mei showed the whites of his eyes and stuck out his tongue in mock terror at Hung-chien from behind Miss Sun's back. On their way to Chian, they wished the bus wasn't so clumsy and slow, dragging back their hearts, which were so eagerly straining to go forward. At the same time they were afraid that once they reached Chian, they' d find nothing there; they wanted the bus to keep going on and on forever without • ever reaching its destination just to keep their hope alive. After settling in a hotel, they found they had only about ten dollars left, but said laughingly, "No matter. In a short time we'll be rich." Upon inquiry at the cashier's office in the hotel, they learned that out of fear of air raids, the bank did not open until four o'clock in the afternoon and so was now doing business. The •
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five of them went off to the bank, keeping an eye on the way for any good restaurants, for it had been a long time since they had had a good meal. The clerk at the bank said that the money had arrived several days ago and gave them a form to fill out. Hsin-mei asked the clerk for a brush to fill it in. Li and Ku wedged him in on either side as though afraid he didn't know how to write. The brush was worn to a bald stump and was more in need of an • application of hair tonic than ink. It left a large smudge every time Hsin-mei touched it to the paper. Li and Ku looked on disapprovingly. The clerk said, "That brush is hard to write with. You might as well take the form back with you and fill it out. In any case you' 11 have to find a shop guarantor to affix his seal but I must tell you, a hotel can't act as a shop guarantor. " 'This gave them a terrible fright, and they began entreating with the clerk, saying they were new to the area and had no way of finding a shop guarantor and wondering if the rules could be made more flexible. The clerk expressed his sympathy and regrets, but insisted it was official business, and he had to go by the rules. He urged them to try finding someone first. They left the bank, roundly cursing the senseless rules. When they were through their cursing , they consoled one another, "Well, in any case, the money is here. " The next morning Hsin-mei and Li Mei-t' ing ate some stale peanuts, drank half a pot of tea from the night before, and set out together to look for local educational institutions. Some time after two o' clock in the afternoon they returned dispirited and exhausted, saying that the high and grade schools had all disbanded and resettled in the countryside. They had found no one. "Let' s worry about it after you eat. You ' re dizzy from hunger. " After a few mouthfuls of food, their spirits picked up, and they suddenly recalled how courteous the bank clerk had been, and to judge from his tone, it seemed that if they really couldn' t find a shop guarantor, he might just give them the money anyway. They wanted to go that evening and gently negotiate the matter with the clerk again. At five o'clock while Miss Sun stayed at the hotel, the four men set off again for the bank. The clerk from the day before had already forgotten who they were. When the matter was explained to him, he still said they would have to have a guarantor and told them to try the Bureau of Education. He had heard that it hadn' t moved away. After returning to the hotel, they went to bed without food to save money. Hung-chien was too hungry to fail asleep. His body felt like an attache case with no papers in it and his back and stomach were nearly stuck together. He then realized that what the French call "long like a day without bread" (long com me un jour sans pain ) was nowhere near as bad as a night without sleep because of no bread. Before dawn, Hsin-mei also awoke; clicking his tongue, he said, "How maddening. There's not even anything to eat in my '
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dreams, let alone when I'm awake." He had dreamed he was in the Capitol Restaurant Grill Room for lunch and had ordered a hamburger and a lemon . cake but had waited and waited and they never came; then he awoke from hunger. Hung-chien said, "Please don't talk about food. It'll make me even hungrier. You selfish rascal, did I get anything to eat in your dream?" Hsinmei laughed. "I dido' t have time to let you know. At any rate I dido' t eat anything! What if I roast Li Mei-t' ing for you? You won't object to that, will you?" Hung-chien said, "Li Mei-t'ing has no meat on him, but you look fair and plump. I' 11 roast you to a turn, dip you in sweet sauce, sprinkle on some salt " Through laughter interspersed with groans, Hsin-mei said, "You shouldn' t laugh when you ' re hungry. Laughing makes your stomach hurt even worse. Wow! It's like having teeth biting at you from inside. Ai ya "Hung-chien said, "The more I lie here, the more I suffer. I'm getting ya up. If I go out and take a stroll, move around some, I can forget my hunger. It's quiet on the streets in the morning. I' m going out for a whiff of fresh air." "Nonsense," said Hsin-mei. "Fresh air stimulates the appetite. You're really asking for it. I ' m saving my strength for going to the Bureau of Education. You'd better" as he spoke he began to laugh so much he yelped in pain "not go to the bathroom. Hold out and save something to maintain your stomach." Before Hung-chien went out, Hsin-mei asked him for a large glass of water and drank it up to fill his stomach. He lay face up on his bed without moving, but the moment he turned, there was the sound of rushing waves from inside his body. Hung-chien took some spare coins from the general funds to buy some unshelled peanuts for their breakfast. Hsin-mei warned him not to eat anything on the sly. The shopfronts along the street, like faces of people huddling under the bedcovers, hadn't shown themselve..<; yet. The general store selling peanuts was also closed. Hung-chien walked on a few paces and then caught a whiff of the fragrant smell of roasted sweet potatoes. He breathed in as though quenching a powerful thirst, and his hunger immediately constricted his stomach even tighter. Roasted sweet potatoes are like illicit sex in the old Chinese saying, "Having it isn't as good as not having it." The smell is better than the taste. When you smell it, you feel you must have one, but once you actually sink your teeth into it, you find it's not really anything special. Seeing a sweet potato stand and thinking this was much better than peanuts, Hung-chien decided to get some for breakfast . He suddenly noticed someone near the stand who closely resembled Li Mei-t' ing in dress and build. After taking a closer look, he found that indeed it was Li. Li had bought a sweet potato and was eating it, standing with his face toward the wall. Not wanting to surprise Li in the act, Hung-chien quickly went into a small alley. He waited until Li had gone before he bought some •
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sweet potatoes and walked back. As he entered the hotel, he took care to keep them concealed from the contemptuous glance of the cashier or waiter, lest they catch on to their distressed circumstances and demand payment of their bill· and pack them off. When Hsin-mei saw Hung-chien had gotten sweet potatoes, he lauded Hung-chien for his purchasing ability. After Hung-chien relayed what had just happened, Hsin-mei said, "I knew he hadn' t handed over all his money. The way he stuffed himself frantically on the sly, let's just hope he didn't choke to death. If a sweet potato is eaten too quickly, it'll get stuck in the throat, and when it's piping hot besides I really have to give him credit for his appetite." Miss Sun, Ku, and Li appeared, exclaiming, "Ai! Where did you get those? Wonderful!" Ku went along with them to the Bureau of Education, saying it would give a better impression to have an additional person along. Hung-chien wanted to go, but Hsin-mei, arguing that he hadn't combed his hair or shaved his beard for more than ten days and that his face looked like a porcupine and his hair as though it was fit for a hen to roost on, wouldn't let him. Around noon, Miss Sun said, "They ' re not back yet. I wonder if there's any hope?" Hung-chien said, "Since they're not back by this time, I think it has probably been settled. If they'd received a flat refusal, they'd have been back by now. The Bureau of Education isn't that far away. " When Hsin-mei returned to the hotel, he drank half a pitcher of water, gasped for breath, and cursed the Bureau Chief, calling him a stupid idiot. Li and Ku also declared it "outrageous." The Bureau Chief had arrived at the office very late. Having taken his time to get there, he still would not see them right away, and when he did his mouth gave no information and was tighter than a tin can. Not only would he not act as guarantor, he even suspected them of being confidence men. Distastefully, he had taken Li Mei-t' ing' s card with three fingers as though it were a piece of trash off the ground, and glancing at the writing on it, said, "I'm an old Shanghai hand. I know every trick of the Shanghai waterfront. These kinds of journalism schools all put up phony signposts t get me wrong, gentlemen, I'm speaking in general. National San Lii University? The name's quite new to me! I've never heard of it. Just established? Then I should know about it." Poor things. They didn't dare eat much that day and what they did eat couldn't keep them from feeling hungry. It only nourished and fostered their hunger, prolonging it indefinitely in their bodies so they never reached the point of starvation, which could have put an end to it. Hsin-mei remarked, "If we go on like this, we'll all be dead by the time we get hold of the money and will just have enough to buy a coffin for the body." Ku' s eyes suddenly lit up and he said, "Did either of you see the 'Women's Association' along the way? I did. I think women are softhearted.
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master. The man sat down very pompously. Whenever he asked a question, each one tried to outdo the others in answering him, which prompted him to hold up his hand and say, "One person answering is enough." He asked Miss Sun for her diploma and carefully compared the photograph with Miss Sun herself. Miss Sun had a vague suspicion he wasn' t comparing her with a photograph but was looking her over and began to feel embarrassed. He then questioned Chao Hsin-mei for a moment and reproved them for not bringing any supporting documents along with them. His girl friend put in some kind words for them, and his manner at last softened. He said he didn' t suspect them and would like very much to become their friend, but he didn't know if the Bureau of Transportation could act as a shop guarantor. He asked them to go find out at the bank first and let him know, then he' d affix his seal. So they stayed on another day to make another trip to the bank. That evening everyone felt hungry even in his sleep, as though hunger had declared its independence, taken on a form of its own, and separated from the body. Two days later they drew out the money. Their shoes had by this time become so familiar with the route from hotel to bank that the shoes could have made the trip by themselves. The bank also gave them a telegram, which had just arrived from Kao Sung-nien, telling them not to worry about getting to the school since there were no effects from the Ch' angsha incident. That evening in order to express their thanks and celebrate the occasion, they invited the woman comrade and her friend out to a restaurant for a grand meal. After downing three cups of wine, Ku opened his mouth and, with his gold teeth sparkling in a lavish smile and his face, which shone brightly from the wine, beaming all around the table like a searchlight, said, "When our Mr. Li here left Shanghai, he had his fortune told. It was said that some 'noble person ' would come to his aid and turn bad luck to good fortune along the way. Sure enough, we met the two of you quite by accident and you acted as our guarantors. lri the future both of you will surely be rich and important beyond all bounds. Mr. Chao, Mr. Li, let' s all five of us drink a toast to them. Miss Sun, you, you drink a swallow too." Miss Sun, who had thought for sure that the "noble person" referred to herself, had lowered her head, blushing red. When subsequently she heard the remark had nothing to do with her, like breath puffed against a pane of glass on a wann day, the redness vanished before forming a mist. As citizens of a democratic republic the woman comrade and her friend knew the doctrine of "the people are noble," but when they heard this feudalistic flattery, their wine-flushed faces beamed happily like crimson flowers in full bloom. Hsin-mei said mischievously, "If you're going to talk about a 'noble person, ' our Miss Sun is also a 'noble person.' If it hadn't been for her "Without waiting for
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him to finish, Li immediately drank a toast to Miss Sun. Hung-chien said, "I'm the biggest disgrace. I didn't do a thing this time. I was just a 'ricebucket."' "That's right," said Li Mei-t'ing. "Little Fang is the real noble one. He sat in the hotel without stirring, while we did all the running around for him. Hsin-mei, we didn't get anywhere, but we sure ran our legs off, didn't we?" That evening just before turning in, Hsin-mei said, "Today we can go to sleep in comfort. Hung-chien, did you notice how ugly that woman is? After she' d had some wine, she was ugly enough to frighten one to death. " Hung-chien replied, " I know she' s ugly, but since she' s our benefactress I couldn't bear to take a close look at her. Taking a close look at someone ugly is a form of cruelty - unless it's an evil person you want to punish." The next morning they arrived at Chiehhualung, on the border between the provinces of Kianghsi and Hunan. The Kianghsi bus did not cross over, so they had to transfer to the Hunan bus, which departed at noon. Of all the buses they had taken on the way, none had arrived at a station as promptly as this one; so rather than quarrel about the short distance they felt that they'd come out a good half-day ahead and decided to take a night's rest instead of catching the bus that day. It was a remote mountain region. There were seven or eight small inns backed by the mountains along the highway on either side of the bus station. In the inn where they stayed, the kitchen was set up at the entrance. The front room served as the guests' dining room during the day and as the bedchamber of the innkeeper and his wife at night. The back room was divided into two guest rooms which were shut off from the sunlight; exposed to the wind and rain, the rooms were hot in summer, cool in winter, and reflected the times and the changing seasons. All around the inn was the heavy stench of urine and excrement, as though the inn were a plant for which it was the guests' duty to provide fertilizer and irrigation. The innkeeper was frying food on the street, which sent Hsin-mei and the others into sneezing fits in their rooms. Hung-chien thought he had caught a chill, while Li said, "Someone at home must be worrying about me! " Only later did they realize it was from the fumes given off by hot peppers in the food. After eating, the four men took an afternoon nap. Miss Sun, sharing a room with Hsin-mei and Hung-chien, said she wasn't -sleepy and went outside to sit on a bamboo reclining chair and read, but she too fell asleep. She awoke with a headache and chills and couldn't eat anything at dinner. It was late autumn, and deep in the mountains the days were short. A ray of moonlight showed through the clouds like a squinting, nearsighted eye. After a moment the moon, too round and smooth for anything to stick to it and too light and nimble to be held down, floated out unencumbered from the mass of tousled, •
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worth more than a few dollars, he didn' t feel her manner toward him during the trip merited the friendship of one packet of ]en-tan. On the other hand, not to give her any medicine would just show how stingy he was. When they were in Chian and not eating three full meals every day, he had worried about getting some disease of malnutrition, and had secretly opened a bottle of Japanese cod liver oil. Every day after a meal he took three capsules as a dietary supplement. Cod liver oil capsules were of course more expensive than ]en-tan , but then an opened bottle was like a woman who' d been married before its market value dropped. Li threw on some clothes and came out to ask about Miss Sun. When he learned that she had suffered a chill in her ' stomach, something which would get better by itself after she lay down for a while, he decided it wouldn' t make any difference if she took cod liver oil capsules, so he said, "You go ahead and have breakfast. I'll see that Miss Sun gets the medicine." Not wishing Li Mei-t' ing to accuse them of trying to steal his glory, Hung-chien and Hsin-mei did go eat breakfast to avoid suspicion. Li went back to his room to get a capsule and asked for a glass of drinking water. Miss Sun languidly opened her eyes and swallowed it as he directed. When Hung-chien went to see Miss Sun after he had eaten breakfast, he smelled a fishy odor. He was just about to ask her about it, when suddenly her cheeks turned completely wet. Some of the tears from the corners of her tightly shut eyes trickled past her ears and dampened the pillow. He was so stunned he didn' t ·know what to do. It was as though he had inadvertently come upon some secret he wasn ' t supposed to know. Quickly he confided to Hsin-mei about it. Hsin-mei also thought this sort of crying was something that should be kept from strangers and did not dare question her closely about it. The two of them consulted their entire stock of learning on the subject of women for an explanation as to why she was crying. In the end, it was a case of "heroes seeing eye to eye." Her crying, they both agreed, was mostly due to mental anguish. When a girl finds herself hundreds of miles from home, falls ill in mid-journey, and hasn' t a single relative to turn to, it's only natural for her to cry. What especially aroused their pity was that she didn't dare cry out loud. Both agreed they should be nicer to her and quietly went to her bed. She seemed to have fallen asleep; the tearstains and dust on her face had congealed into several black streaks. Fortunately, a young girl' s tears aren' t yet like the raindrops of autumn or winter. They don' t bring destruction and ruin to the face, but are more like the steady rains of early April, which soak and swell the ground, making it muddier. The four or five days of their journey from Chiehhualung to Shaoyang were as smooth as satin. On their lips was the newly discovered truth: "Money is an absolute necessity." As the way from Shaoyang to the school '
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consisted entirely of mountain roads, they had to switch to sedan chairs. Tired of riding buses, they were delighted with the novelty of sedan chairs, but after riding for a while, they realized that these were harder to endure than a bus. Their toes ached from the cold, and they preferred getting down and walking a while. The whole way was rugged and winding over endless mountains and fields, as though time had already forgotten this route. After traveling more than seventy li , time seemed nonexistent. Mountain mists gradually rose, darkness turned to dusk, and dusk congealed into blackness. The thick, black clump was a hamlet where they were to stay that evening. When they got into the lodge, the sedan-chair bearers and rickshaw pullers lit a fire, and they gathered around to warm themselves while vegetables were fried and the rice was cooked. No lamps were lit at night in the lodge. Instead, a long piece of firewood was burned at one end and stuck in the pile. As the slender flames swayed and bobbed, the shadows of objects in the room also came alive. They all slept in an unpartitioned room. There were no beds, just five piles of straw. They preferred the rice straw to hotel beds, which sometimes felt like a relief map and sometimes like the chest of a tuberculosis patient. Hung-chien was extremely tired and sleepy, but his mind would not settle down. Sleep gathered in on all sides but did not close up, like two halves of a window curtain that are about to join when suddenly the cord becomes stuck , letting through a thread of the outside world. After he had finally fallen asleep, a small voice began crying plaintively, from deep within his dreams, "Get off my clothes! Get off my clothes!" Hung-chien instinctively rolled aside and then was immediately wide-awake. He heard a sigh by his head, very faint like a suppressed emotion escaping as a furtive breath. He was so frightened his hair stood on end. He could not make out anything in the darkness and thought of lighting a match, but he was afraid he really would see something. Hsin-mei was snoring; far away a dog was barking. He paused for a moment to collect his wits and laughed at himself for imagining things. He relaxed and was about to drift off to sleep, but it was as though some force were preventing him from sleeping, propping up his whole being, propping him up and not letting him settle down. In a semiconscious state, he had a dim sense that when awake one is suspended loosely in space but he becomes heavy the moment he falls asleep. As he was struggling to go to sleep, he heard Miss Sun next to him breathing unsteadily as though she wanted to cry but couldn ' t. When he roused himself and focused his attention, his sleep vanished again, and he very distinctly heard a sigh close to his ear, like a breath let out when work is finished. Hung-chien turned his head away to escape that sighing mouth. His throat and tongue had gone dry and stuck together in fright, so he couldn't call out, "Who is it?" Afraid that
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ghost would bother to pay me a visit. By the way, the sedan bearers say we can get to the school by this afternoon." In his sedan chair Fang Hung-chien wondered what it would be like when they reached the school that day. In any case he no longer entertained any hopes. That broken-down door behind the lodge was a good symbol. It was like an entrance, concealing behind it deep palaces and high towers. One was lured inside only to find nothing there: an entrance into nothing, a place that went nowhere. "All hope abandon, ye who enter here!" In spite of this, an irrepressible curiosity and anticipation, like water boiling on the stove, pushed up against the lid of the kettle. He hated the way the sedan bearers meandered along and preferred to get off the chair and walk by himself. Stirred by a similar feeling, Hsin-mei had also grown restless in his chair and began to walk. "Hung-chien," he said, "we've really gained a lot of experience during this trip. Ultimately everything came out well, and we reached the Western Paradise [Buddhist heaven]. At least from now on we can keep a respectful distance from Li Mei-t' ing and Ku Er-chien. In the case of Li it goes without saying, but Ku' s fawning obsequiousness is really unbearable." Hung-chien said, "I've found that flattery is just like love. It doesn't allow a third party to look on disinterestedly. Next time we start praising someone, we should be careful that no one else is around." Hsinmei said, "A trip like this really tests a person ' s character. Traveling is so exhausting and vexing; it's apt to show a person's true self. People who go through a long hard journey together without incurring each other's dislike can become good friends but hold on, let me finish. The honeymoon trip after marriage is an exception. People should take a month's trip together first and then after a month of the rigors of travel, if neither one has seen through the other and doesn ' t detest the other, if they haven' t quarreled and fallen out and still want to stick to the original marriage agreement, then such a couple is sure never to divorce. " "Why don't you tell that to Mr. and Mrs. Ts'ao Yuan-lang?" "Sorry, but I'm saying this to you alone. Now that you've made this trip, Miss Sun doesn't annoy you, does she?" As he spoke, Hsin-mei took a look back at Miss Sun ' s sedan chair, then turned around and laughed heartily. "Don't talk rubbish. Tell me, now that you've made this trip, what do you think of me? Do you find me annoying?" "You're not annoying, but you're completely useless. " Hung-chien had not expected such a blunt answer from Hsin-mei and was so enraged that he could do no more than smile bitterly. His high spirits
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6 KAO SUNG-NIEN, the president of San Lii University, was an "old science scholar." The word "old" here is quite bothersome. It could describe science or it could just as well be describing a scientist. Unfortunately, there is a world of difference between a scientist and science. A scientist is like wine. The older he gets, the more valuable he is, while science is like a woman. When she gets old, she ' s worthless. Once Mandarin grammar reaches its full development, the time will come when "old science scholar" can be clearly distinguished from "scholar of old science" or one will say "science old scholar" or "old science scholar. " But as it' s still too early for that yet, a general term of reference will have to do in the meantime. Kao Sung-nien' s fat but firm face was like an unleavened millet-flour steamed bread. "Voracious time" ( Edax vetustas) could not make a dent on it. There was not a single tooth mark or crease. If a coed who had violated a school rule were extremely pretty. President Kao would only want her to beg for mercy and admit her mistake before him; then perhaps he would not carry out the law to the fullest extent but would let her off with a light punishment. This proves that this scientist wasn' t old yet. Twenty years ago he studied entomology abroad. Apparently the insects of twenty years ago had evolved into university students and professors, and so he had been invited to act as an "example to scholars." As a university president, his prospects were unlimited. University presidents fall into two categories those from the liberal arts and those from the natural sciences. Those from liberal arts rarely accede to this position, and when they do they don't look upon it as an honor, since they probably came to it after having been turned out of public office. Failing as an official, they turn to scholarly pursuits, cultivating mind and body with the riches of the classics and the sounds of music and chanting. For those from the natural sciences, the situation is quite different. China is the greatest promoter of science of any country in the world; no other . governmental body is so willing to offer high posts to scientists. As Western science moves forward, Chinese scientists move upward. In the West, scholarship devoted to the study of human sentiments and to the study of nature's laws have always been kept separate. In China, however, one need only have a knowledge of hydroelectrics, civil engineering, mechanics, plant and animal technology, and so on, to be able to run public affairs and govern
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friends, he gradually believed it to be the gospel truth and was overcome with self-admiration. From then on he was constantly expounding this idea, giving it an added sanction by saying, "I'm a student of biology, and a school is an organism, too. The faculty should be to the school as the cells are to the organism " This gospel truth was transformed into scientific law. Thanks to this scientific law, Li Mei-t' ing, Ku Er-chien, and Fang Hung-chien were all honored with professorial appointments. They arrived at the school that afternoon after two. After he learned of their arrival, Kao hurried over to the faculty dormitory to greet them, then returned to his office, no longer able to dismiss the matter that had been troubling him for the past month. Since the crisis at Ch' angsha, nine out of ten professor's he hired had sent telegrams canceling their contracts on one pretext or another. Everything was topsy- turvy and many classes had to be canceled; fortunately, the war had affected the students also, and only 158 of them had shown up. Having four professors arrive all at once was a real boost to his morale, and it would look a little better when he wrote a report to the Ministry of Education. But how was he to explain things to Li Mei-t' ing and Fang Hung-chien? Vice-minister Wang of the Ministry of Education had recommended Wang Ch' u-hou to be chairman of the Department of Chinese Literature. Meanwhile he had already written and appointed Li Mei-t' ing to the post but Wang Ch' u-hou was Vice-minister Wang' s uncle and for that reason was better qualified than Li Mei-t' ing. The succession of telegrams from professors declining appointments at that time had put his head in a spin. Afraid that the group from Shanghai would turn back halfway, he decided he had better humor Vice-minister Wang first. He felt Wang Ch' u- hou could not be easily handled, while Li Mei-t' ing was an old friend and as such could always be brought around. He was worried that Li' s temper would be hard to deal with. Very hard indeed! That young Fang fellow, on the other hand, should be easy to handle. Fang was a friend of Chao Hsin-mei. Not wanting to come himself, Hsin-mei had at first recommended Fang, saying .Fang was a returned student with a doctorate from Germany. What absolute nonsense that was! According to the resume sent by Fang himself, Fang had no degree at all and was nothing but a student drifter who had led a life of dissipation in one country after another. Furthermore, Fang had never even studied political science. To hire Fang as a professor would be an injustice! At the most Fang could start as an associate professor and work his way up step by step. Young people shouldn't climb too high in their jobs. He could have Hsin-mei tell Fang that. The difficulty still lay with Li Mei-t'ing. In any case, Li had been through hell and high water to get here, so Li certainly wouldn't just break off and leave immediately. Since getting here had been so difficult, leaving
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wouldn't be so easy either. He would make Li some empty promises and let it go at that. After all, wasn't it through his influence that Li had made it from a private school to a national university in one leap? One had to show some gratitude. In any case, all this could wait till the next day. No use worrying about it now. Meanwhile, there was dinner at the police chief' s house that night. The dinner was the usual social affair. The great banquets in the small village always came down to the same few dishes. Kao had had his fill of them, but it was now past four, and he was getting a little hungry. At the thought of dinner, his mouth watered. When travelers reach their destination, they disperse like the wave splashing in all directions upon reaching shore. But that day Hung-chien and the other three men still went to the village together to get a haircut and take a bath. When they returned to the school, they saw on the bulletin board an announcement written on a piece of pink paper stating that the Chinese literature students were holding a tea in the social room at seven-thirty that evening to welcome Mr. Li Mei-t' ing. "What a nuisance! What a nuisance!" • said Li in delight. "I' m so tired; I was planning to go to bed early today! Those kids are too enthusiastic for their own good. Mr. Chao, aren' t they quick at getting the news! " "Of all the nerve!" said Hsin-mei. "Why don' t the Political Science Department students throw a party to welcome me?" Li said, "What's your hurry? Why don't you take my place at today' s reception? I'd rather sleep. " Ku Er-chien nodded and said with a sigh, "People in Chinese studies know the proper etiquette, all right. I don' t think the students in any other department would ever pay their teacher such honor and respect." With that he smiled sweetly at Li. God must have regretted at that moment not having appended a waggable dog' s tail to nian' s body, thereby reducing by no one knows how much man's power of expression. Hung-chien said, "All of you are affiliated with one department or another. I still don't know which department I will be teaching in. President Kao didn't make it clear in his telegram. " "That doesn ' t matter," said Hsin-mei quickly. " You can teach " philosophy, Chinese Li Mei-t'ing said with a sly smile, "You'll have to get my pennission to teach Chinese, Mr. Fang. Do a good job of currying favor with me, and we . .. can come to terms on anyt hmg. While he was speaking, Miss Sun came up and said she was living in the women's dormitory and sharing a room with the women's adviser, Miss Fan. She too flattered Li Mei-t' ing about the reception. Li smiled flippantly and
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said, "Miss Sun, you should change your field. Don' t go to the Foreign Languages Department office. Be my teaching assistant instead, and tonight we can go to the party together. "While the five of them had dinner at a small restaurant near the university's main gate, Li Mei-t' ing listened without hearing and ate without noticing the taste. They all teased him, saying he was preparing his speech for the reception. Li emphatically denied it, saying, "Nonsense! Why do I need to prepare for that!" At about nine o' clock that evening Fang Hung-chien was talking with Hsin-mei in the latter's room and yawning repeatedly. He was about to return to his room to sleep, when Li knocked on the door and came in. They were both about to tease him when they noticed by his face that something was wrong and asked, "Why did the reception end so early?" Without a word, Li sat down on a chair, his nostrils blowing out air like a locomotive getting ready to pull out. They quickly asked him what had happened. He pounded the table, calling Kao Sung-nien a scoundrel, and declared that even if he had to take his case all the way to the Ministry of Education he would never lose. He also said that the president had gone off to have dinner with someone and wasn't back yet, and there wasn't a sign of him anywhere, maintaining that anyone that negligent of his duties should be damned to hell. As it turned out, the reception had been arranged by Wang Ch' u-hou in accordance with the famous precept from The Art of War: "Launch a frontal assault before the enemy has a chance to catch his breath." The four lecturers and the teaching assistants in the Department of Chinese Literature who had arrived at the school some time ago had already become his friends, and the students, in general, had also been obedient. Knowing that Kao Sung-nien had made a prior agreement with Li Mei-t' ing, he had taken advantage of Li' s absence and usurped Li' s position. Being a department chairman is just like getting married: "The one installed three days earlier becomes the wife. " The party for Li turned out to be more like the new concubine's First Meeting ceremony than a reception. The moment Li Mei-t' ing walked in the meeting room with a student representative, he sensed something was wrong, and when he heard his colleagues and the students say "Chairman Wang" once or twice, Li grew suspicious and alanned. When Wang Ch' u-hou saw him, he fervently took Li' s hand in both of his, rubbing it for some time without letting go as though clasping the hand of a mistress. At the same time he said with mixed fear and admiration, "Mr. Li, you really kept us waiting on tenterhooks. We've been expecting you every day Mr. Chang, Mr. Hsiieh, weren't we just this morning talking about him we were just this morning talking about you. Did you have a rough journey? Rest up for the next two days before
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going to classes. There ' s no rush. I ' ve arranged all your courses. Mr. Li , we've really been soul-brothers for a long time. When President Kao called me in Ch' engtu asking me to organize the Chinese Literature Department, I thought to myself, I'm getting old, and the journey is a difficult one. Much better to stick with the old rather than try something new. That' s why I really didn't want to come at first. But President Kao really could go on! He asked my nephew " Mr. Chang, Mr. Hstieh, and Mr. Huang all said at once, "Mr. Wang is Vice-minister Wang's uncle." "He asked my nephew to keep persuading me, and I couldn' t refuse an old friend. My wife' s health isn' t very good, and she felt like getting a change of air. When I arrived here and learned you were coming, I was quite overjoyed. I think the department will certainly be well run ... " Li Mei-t' ing' s speech to have been delivered as chairman was locked up inside and left unsaid. Controlling his anger, he made a few offhand remarks, drank a cup of tea, then left the party early, complaining of a headache. Hsin-mei and Hung-chien consoled him for a while and urged him to go back to his room and get some sleep. The next day he could go to Kao Sungnien and speak his piece. On his way out, Li remarked, "If in spite of our friendship Old Kao can still deceive me like this, he must have some tricks up his sleeve for you two as well. Just watch. As long as we adopt a unified stance, we have nothing to fear from him!" After Li left, Hung-chien turned to Hsin-mei and declared, "That' s outrageous!" Hsin-mei replied with a frown, " I think there must be some misunderstanding. I don ' t know the story behind it. Maybe Li's love is all one-sided. Otherwise, it's ridiculous! But then for someone like Li Mei-t' ing to be chairman is a joke in itself. Those fancy cards of his with the printed titles can't help him now. Ha, ha." Hung-chien said, "This is my unlucky year in any case. I'm prepared to be disappointed wherever I go. Probably tomorrow Kao Sung-nien won't even recognize this lousy professor. " " There you go again!" said Hsin-mei impatiently. "It's as if you couldn't really be happy unless you were unlucky. Well, let me tell you something. You can't believe everything Li Mei-t' ing says. And besides, you came on my recommendation. Whatever happens, I'm here." Although Hung-chien was determined to be pessimistic, when he heard this, he decided it wouldn't hurt to put off his pessimism for another day. Next morning Hsin-mei told Hung-chien that he would see the president the first thing and get Hung-chien's case straightened out, instructing Hungchien to wait until he came back before going to see Kao Sung-nien. After more than an hour, Hung-chien became impatient, I am really being oversensitive, he thought. Kao Sung-nien cabled me directly. Could someone
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who is the head of an organization be so flippant with his promises? Hsinmei has already done his duty as a reference. Now I' ll have to pay Kao a formal call myself. That would be the most straightforward way. When Kao saw Fang Hung-chien' s pleasant, smiling face, he thought Fang was either a very good-natured or conniving sort of fellow. He quickly asked, "Did you see Mr. Chao?" "Not yet. I thought I should come see you. It is only appropriate." Fang Hung-chien was certain that he had spoken very properly. Hell! thought Kao Sung-nien, Hsin-mei must have gotten tied -up with Li Mei-t' ing and been unable to get away. Now I'Ll have to do a lot of fast talking with this Fang fellow. "Mr. Fang, Mr. Chao was going to talk with you there are several things I ' ve already spoken to him about " Hung-chien sensed something was wrong from the way Kao spoke, but for the moment he could not withdraw the smile from his face, and so it lingered on rather awkwardly. Looking at Fang's face, Kao wished he could have picked off the smile with his fingers. "Mr. Fang, did you get my letter?" When most people lie, their eyes and mouth will not cooperate. While the mouth is boldly prattling on, the eyes are timidly avoiding the other's gaze. Kao Sungnien was skilled at dealing with people, and furthermore, while studying biology, he had learned the wisdom handed down in the West: If your gaze meets that of a lion or tiger and you glare at each other, the wild beast will be so hypnotized by your stare he won' t dare attack. Of course, before he starts eating you, a wild beast won't necessarily dart bewitching glances at you, but then Fang Hung-chien wasn't a wild beast either. At the most. he could be called a house pet. Kao Sung-nien' s three-hundred-watt glare made Fang so uncomfortable that Fang began to feel as though not having received the letter was his own fault and that he had been too presumptuous in coming here. Trusting Kao Sung-nien had in fact written a letter retracting his appointment, Fang, at the same time, felt a certain expected satisfaction and exclaimed in agitation, "No, I didn't! I really didn't get it! Was it important? When did you send it?" as though he were the one lying and had received the letter but was now denying it. "Ai! How could you not have gotten it?" Kao sat up straight, his look of feigned surprise carried to perfection and far more natural than Fang's genuine dismay. That Kao hadn't become an actor was a misfortune for the stage and a blessing for the actors. "That letter was very important. Ai! Wartime postal service is simply abominable. But now that you're here, splendid. I can tell you everything directly. " Hung-chien relaxed somewhat and said obligingly, "There's always
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trouble with mail between the interior and Shanghai. The incident inCh' angsha probably affected it too. A lot of mail could have gotten lost. If your letter to me was sent ear1y - " Kao Sung-nien made a gesture of not attaching any importance to the letter, grandly forgiving the letter which he had never written and which Fang Hung-chien had never received. "No use talking about the letter. I'm very much afraid that if you had read the letter, you would not have condescended to accept the appointment. But now that you're here, don't start thinking about running off. Ha, ha! It ' s this way. I'll explain everything. Though I'd never met you before, when I heard Hsin-mei speak of your scholarship, character, and so on, I was quite delighted and immediately sent you a telegram asking you to come help. The telegram stated that " Kao Sung-nien paused a moment to see how good a negotiator Hungchien was, for a good negotiator would never at this point recite the promised terms for him. But like a fish swallowing bait, Fang Hung-chien was hooked at once, and quickly went on, "Your telegram appointed me professor, but didn't say in which department I was to teach, so I'd like to ask about that. " "I originally intended to ask you to be a professor in the Political Science Department since you had been recommended by Hsin-mei, who said you had a doctorate from Germany. But according to your own resume, you have no degree ng-chien' s face flushed as red as a sick man with a temperature of one hundred three degrees. "And you hadn't even studied political science. Hsin-mei was completely wrong. Your friendship with Hsin-mei isn' t really very deep, is it?" The temperature registered on Hung-chien' s face rose another degree Fahrenheit, and he was unable to answer. Seeing this, Kao Sung-nien grew even bolder. "Of course, I won' t quibble about a degree. I'm only concerned with true talent and learning. But the regulations set down by the Ministry of Education are very strict. According to your academic credentials, you could at the most be a full-time lecturer. If I petitioned for a professorial salary, it would be denied for sure. I'm confident Hsin-mei' s recommendation couldn ' t be wrong, and so I ' m making an exception and appointing you as an associate professor with a salary of two hundred eighty dollars a month and a raise next school year. This was all explained in the express letter I sent you. I assumed you had received it." Hung-chien could only declare for the second time that he had not received the letter, feeling at the same time that his demotion to associate professor was already a blessing from above. "As for your contract, I just asked Hsin-mei to take it with him. What you teach is now the problem. We still have no philosophy department for the •
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time being, and there are already enough professors in the Chinese department. There' s just one class of logic required of all freshmen in the College of Letters and Law and that is three hours. That seems a bit too little. I'll think of something else later on." Hung-chien left the president's office feeling as if his soul had been run over by a steamroller. Not a breath of spirit left in him, he felt like some poor abandoned creature to whom Kao Sung-nien had given shelter in an act of great mercy. Filled with shame and hate, he had no one on whom to vent his feelings. When he got back to his room, Hsin-mei hurried over, saying that he had more or less helped Kao Sung-nien solve Li Mei-t' ing' s case and was ready to discuss Hung-chien's. When he learned that Hung-chien had already spoken with Kao Sung-nien, he said quickly, "You didn't flare up with him, did you? It's all my fault. I was under the impression you had your doctorate. When I first recommended you, I was just hoping to get it settled quickly " "So you could have Miss Su all to yourself " "You don' t have to bring that up. I had my salary all right, all right, I won' t, I won' t. " Clasping his hands and smiling apologetically, Hsin-mei praised Hung-chien for his forbearance, and told him how Li Mei-t'ing had come barging in, blustering disgracefully while he was talking in the president's office. Hung-chien asked what happened with Li. Hsin-mei smiled sardonically and said, "Kao Sungnien asked me to try to reason with him, so after prattling on about it for a long time, he said that unless the school buys the Western medicine he brought at his price Ai, and I still have to go give Kao Sung-nien the reply. Your case was weighing on my mind, so I hurried back to see you." Hungchien had calmed down by then, but when he heard that Kao Sung-nien was to buy for the school the contraband goods that Li had brought at the price Li was asking, his anger surfaced again. Now that Li had received compensation, he thought, he was the only real loser. When Kao Sung-nien gave a party that evening in honor of the newly arrived professors, Hungchien fussed and refused to go but was unable to withstand Hsin-mei' s earnest entreaties, and when early that evening Kao Sung-nien came by to pay a call, he felt he had sufficiently recovered face and went after all. While Hsin-mei had no extracts of elixirs like Li Mei-t' ing, who traveled with the essence of Chinese literature all stored up in his cards, he had brought along a dozen or so reference books. Fang Hung-chien, on the other hand, never had any idea he would be teaching logic, and none of the books on the history of Western society, primitive culture, the collected books of historiography, and so on, which he had brought along, was of any use to him. When he seriously thought about his teaching assignment, he became so nervous that he had no time to stay angry and just hoped Kao Sung-nien would
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let him teach the history of comparative cultures or the history of Chinese literature instead. But there was no need for the former course now, and someone was already teaching the latter. A beggar has to take what he gets; it's not up to him to choose the dishes. Hsin-mei consoled him, "Students nowadays aren' t as advanced as they used to be " It seems that in this great age of rubber tires, the level of the students and the moral standards of the times are the only two things that have regressed. "Don' t panic. You ' ll manage somehow." Hung-chien went to the library to look for books. The library had fewer than one thousand books, most of which were old, battered, torn textbooks of Chinese, relics of schools that had been suspended during the war. A thousand years hence these books would be as priceless as the manuscripts from the Tun-huang caves. Now they were ancient without being rare. Shortsighted, shallow-minded book collectors still did not have sense enough to buy them up. All libraries, like the brains of a drudge at examination time, are graveyards of learning. This library, however, was like an old-fashioned charitable organization which cherished the written word. If heaven knew of it, those in charge in this generation would never be struck by lightning and in the next life would surely all be intelligent and influential. Hung-chien browsed around for a long time, then to his surprise found a Chinese translation of An Outline of Logic. He checked it out and went back to his room, as happy as T' ang San-tsang returning to Ch' angan with the sutras. After reading a few pages of An Outline of Logic, it occurred to him that since no textbooks were available, perhaps he should make this one available to all, by mimeographing and distributing it to students. Then he reflected that wouldn' t be necessary. Professors used to keep other reference books, which served as "secret pillow treasures, " and so they were willing to use textbooks. Now that there were no reference books, and he was solely dependent on this one textbook to instill knowledge and spread culture, he could not possibly share it with everyone. He'd better let the students remain mystified by it all and take notes on his lectures. After all, he was nothing more than an associate professor. It wasn't worth knocking himself out for that. At the first meeting of the class he would express his sympathy for the students, lament the difficulty of finding books in the unoccupied area, and say that under such circumstances the professor was no longer a useless appendage. Having a professor lecture was an emergency measure instituted in the days before the invention of printing, he would go on, and since it was no longer the Middle Ages, everybody had books to read and logically speaking shouldn't have to come to class and waste each other' s time. He was sure these comments would be very well received and at the thought of how the students would react, he was so elated that he could hardly sit still. 395
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Hung-chien and the rest of the group arrived at the school on Wednesday. Kao Sung-nien let them rest until the following Monday before starting classes. During those few days, Hsin-mei was the president's man of the hour, having received the most calls from his colleagues, while Hungchien was seldom so honored. Small in size, the school had been put together haphazardly. Except for the women students and a small number of faculty members with families, everyone lived in a large compound. This arrangement clearly showed each person' s status at the school. On Sunday afternoon Hung-chien was busily preparing his lecture material when Miss Sun came, looking more ruddy than she had on the trip. Hung-chien was about to get Hsin-mei, but she said she had just come from Hsin-mei 's place, that the professors in the Political Science Department were holding a conference there, and the room was filled with smoke. When she saw that they were all busy, she did not sit down. Fang Hung-chien said with a grin, "Whenever politicians congregate, there's bound to be heavy pollution. " Miss Sun laughed and then said, "I came today to thank you and Mr. Chao. Yesterday afternoon the comptroller' s office reimbursed me for the traveling expenses. " "It was Mr. Chao who got that for you. I had nothing to do with it." "No, I know otherwise." Miss Sun was gently stubborn. "It was you who reminded Mr. Chao about it. When you were on the boat " She realized she had said half a sentence too much and blushed. The sentence was chopped at midpoint. Hung-chien suddenly remembered the conversation on the boat. So the girl really had heard everything. Seeing her like this, he too felt embarrassed. Blushing from shyness, like yawning or stuttering, can be infectious. It's sticky, like walking through mud in rubbers. You can't set your foot down; then when you do you can't pull it out. He covered up with a joke, "Well, now that you have your traveling expenses for the trip home, you'd better go home while you still can. This place is a bore." Pouting like a child, Miss Sun said, "I really do feel like going home! I miss home every day. I even wrote my father saying how much I missed home. Next summer vacation is so far away; I get nervous just thinking about . It.
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including himself, I' 11 have to take over one section. I really don't know how to teach. The students are all older than I , and they all look so tough. " "] ust try teaching a little and you' 11 learn. I ' ve never taught before either. The students can't be very advanced. Prepare your lessons thoroughly, and when you start teaching, you' II find your preparation is more than enough. " "The section I' m to teach had the worst scores on the English entrance examination. But, Mr. Fang, you don't know how miserable I am myself. I thought I'd come here and study hard for a year or two. They won't let the foreigner here teach and instead they want me to teach and lose face!" "Who's the foreigner here?'' "You mean you didn't know? The wife of Mr. Han, who is the chairman of the History Department. I've never seen her, but Miss Fan says she's so thin she's nothing but bones and very ugly. &-lme people say she' s a White Russian, but others insist she's a ] ew who became a refugee after Austria was annexed to Germany. Her husband claims she's American. Mr. Han wanted her to be a professor in the Department of Foreign Languages, but Mr. Liu refused. Liu says she's not qualified because she can't speak any English, and now there's no need to teach German or Russian. Mr. Han was furious and said Mr. Liu isn' t qualified and can' t speak English either, saying further that Liu had put out a few middle school textbooks and muddled his way through a summer session abroad to get a certificate. He wondered who Liu thinks he is the remarks really get nasty. Mr. Kao finally managed to break it up, but now Mr. Han is threatening to resign." "No wonder he didn't show up the other day when the president had his party. Ai! You're really good. Where'd you get all that news?" Miss Sun said with a laugh, "Miss Fan told me. This school is like a big family. Unless you live off campus you can ' t keep anything secret. And there's so much bickering going on. Yesterday Mr. Liu' s sister arrived from Kweilin. Apparently she has a B.A. in history. Everyone's saying now Mr. Liu and Mr. Han can come to terms by trading a teaching assistant in the History Department for a professor in the Foreign Languages Department." "But a sister is not as close as a wife, nor a teaching assistant as high as a professor," declaimed Hung-chien. "If I were your Mr. Liu, I would never accept such a rotten deal. " While he was speaking, Hsin-mei came in and said, "OK, I' ve seen those people out Miss Sun, I knew you wouldn' t leave right away. " He had meant nothing by this remark, but Miss Sun blushed. Hung-chien quickly told him about the affair involving Mrs. Han, adding, "Why are there so many political intrigues in a school? It's not even as straightforward as
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jumped about screaming curses. Meanwhile, preoccupied with the nation, the relative forgot about his family and never wrote again. Caught up with foreign affairs, the friend had no time for domestic matters, and never sent a single reply. From then on, Lu could only write to the Executive Yi.ian, so the two letters on his desk were both outgoing mail. That day was the day for the letter to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Lu waited until Hung-chien had seen the envelope on his desk, then hurriedly put it away in his drawer, saying, "It' s nothing. A friend is asking me to work at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and so I' m answering his letter. " Assuming this to be true, Hung-chien could not but express his reluctance to see him go and urge him to stay, saying, "Oh! So you' re moving up! Will the president be willing to let you go?" Lu repeatedly shook his head, saying, "None of that! I'm not interested in being an official. I' m replying with a flat refusal. The president treats people very well. He sent several telegrams urging me to come. Now that you all are here, and the school is gradually getting on its feet, how could I pull out and leave him in the lurch?" Recalling his own talk with Kao Sung-nien, Hung-chien said with a sigh, "The president of course gives you special treatment. People like myself Lu spoke so softly there was air produced but no sound, as though his thoughts were breathing. "Yes, the president does have that shortcoming. He doesn't keep his word. I know your case was very unfair. " This was said confidentially as though all four walls had ears secretly listening in. Hung-chien had never thought that other people already knew about his case. Coloring slightly, he said, "My case was nothing special, but, Mr. Kao - ess I learned a lesson. " "You can't say that! Associate professor is a little low, of course, but among associate professors, your salary is the highest. " "What? You mean the rank of associate professor is divided into grades?" Hung-chien was of a mind with Dr. Johnson of England in not distinguishing between the rank of a louse and a flea. "It's divided into several grades. Take your traveling companion and our department colleague Ku Er-chien, for example. He's two grades lower than you. Or our department chairman, Mr. Han. He's a grade higher than Mr. Chao, while Mr. Chao is a grade higher than Liu Tung-fang of the Foreign Languages Department. There are quite a number of grades. This is your first job since returning from abroad, so you' re not familiar with it. " It all suddenly became clear to Hung-chien. When he heard that he was higher than Ku Er-chien, he felt somewhat better and asked casually, "Why's your department chairman's salary so high?"
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"Because he's a doctor, a Ph. D. I've never been to America, so I've never heard of the university he graduated from, but it's supposed to be quite famous. It's in New York, called Carleton University or something." Hung-chien sat up in astonishment. It was as though someone had uncovered a secret of his, and he cried out, "Which University?" "Carleton University. Do you know Carleton University?" "Yes, I do! Humph, I also " Hung-chien wished he could have bitten down on his tongue, but two words had already slipped out. When Lu Tzu-hsiao realized that there was something more behind all this, like bamboo sprouts just barely revealing their pointed tips in the earth, he wanted to get right to the bottom of it. When Hung-chien wouldn't say, he grew even more suspicious and just wished he could have adopted the torture tactics of the special services to force out a confession. Hung-chien returned to his room, angry and amused. Ever since the time Miss T' ang had interrogated him about buying a diploma, he had refused to think about his negotiations with the Irishman. He kept it firmly in mind that he was going to forget the whole matter. Whenever his thoughts veered off in that direction, he would hurriedly change his line of thinking, though not before he felt a twinge of shame. Lu' s remarks just now, however, had been like a dose of medicine half easing the shame in his heart. Han Hsiieh-yii was telling his lie, and while they were not in collusion, it was as if having Han there lightened the charges of deception against himself. Of course, this added a new uneasiness, but this kind of uneasiness was out in the open and exposed to the sunlight, not like the business of the bought diploma, every trace of which, like a corpse in a murder case, had to be hidden even from himself. The only way to lie and deceive was as Han Hsiieh-yii had done it. One had to have the courage to carry it all the way through. He was just no good at it. What a big fool to have lied and still tried to maintain his honesty. If he had just gone boldly and brazenly ahead, he could at least have avoided Kao Sung-nien' s bullying. Instead, he had ended up having to bear all at once the two opposite miseries of suffering wrong for his honesty and being humiliated by exposure as a cheat. He suddenly thought that lately he hadn't even been able to tell a lie. Then it struck him that lying was often a manifestation of joy and happiness as well as a form of creativity, like make-believe in the play of a child . When a person has a sense of well-being and his spirits are overflowing , he can ignore stubborn facts and joke about his present circumstances. When one really has fallen on hard times, he's not much good at lying. A day later Han Hsiieh-yii came especially to pay a call. When he gave his name, Fang Hung-chien felt uneasy but was at the same time pleasantly disappointed. He had pictured Han Hsiieh-yii as arrogant and sly, but to his
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surprise Han was quiet and reticent. He thought perhaps Lu Tzu-hsiao had been mistaken or that Miss Sun must have put too much stock in rumor. Slow-witted honesty was Han Hsueh-yli' s specialty. Modern man has two popular myths: first, that homeliness in a girl is a virtue, so that pretty girls do not have half as much intelligence or honor as ugly girls; and second, that if a man lacks eloquence, he must be virtuous, making deaf-mutes the most sincere and honest people. Perhaps because he has been taken in too often by speeches and propaganda, modern man has overreacted to the point where he thinks only those who never talk speak the truth upon opening their mouths, prompting all newly appointed officials to say in their homily, "Statesmanship does not lie in excessive talk," wishing they could just point to their mouth, their heart, and heaven and settle it all with these three gestures. Though Han Hsiieh-yli was not a deaf-mute, he did have a slight stutter. In order to cover his stuttering he spoke little, slowly and with great effort, as though each word carried with it the weight of his entire personality. People who don't talk readily are apt to give others the impression that they are packed with wisdom, just as a locked, tightly sealed chest is assumed to be crammed with treasure. When Kao Sung-nien saw Han in Kunming for the first time, Kao felt Han to be sincere and serene like a gentleman. Moreover, it was obvious from Han' s premature baldness that his brain was so filled with knowledge it was bursting forth and crowding out his hair. When Kao took a look at Han's vitae and saw besides his doctoral degree the item: "Articles have appeared in such major American journals as The Journal of History and the Saturday Review of Literature," Kao could not help but give Han respect. Several people coming to Kao with letters of introduction had resumes stating that they had "lectured" abroad many times. Having studied in a small European country himself, Kao knew that often when one thought one was lecturing [ literally, speaking on learning] , the audience assumed he was a good chance to practice the foreign language. But to learning to speak publish articles in major journals abroad that took real talent and scholarship. When he asked Han if he could take a look at his works,· the latter had replied calmly that the journals had been left at his old home in the occupied area, that any Chinese university should subscribe to these two journals, and that Kao should be able to find them easily nearby, unless some of the old issues in the library had been lost during the escape. Kao Sung-nien never thought a liar could be so calm and unruffled. The books of all universities were in disarray, and he wouldn't necessarily be able to find the particular issues. But there didn't seem to be any doubt that they did contain Han Hsliech-yli' s articles. Han Hslieh-yli had in fact submitted articles to these journals, but Kao Sung-nien did not know that his articles had been •
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published in the "Personals" column of the Saturday Review of Literature: "Well-educated Chinese youth wishes to assist Sinologists. Low rates"; and in the "Correspondence" column of The Journal of History: "Han Hslieh-ytli is seeking back issues of this journal from twenty years ago. Anyone wishing to sell please write to such and such an address." Finally when Kao heard that Mrs. Han was an American, he simply regarded Han with newfound respect. One had to be very well versed in Western learning to marry a foreign woman. Hadn' t he himself tried without success to marry a Belgian girl in his youth? This man could be department chairman. He never thought at the time that the foreign wife was a White Russian that Han had wed in China. Talking with Han Hsi.ieh-yi.i was like watching a movie in slow motion. You would never expect a terse remark could take so much preparation to mobilize such a complex physical machinery. His words brought time to a halt and it just had to drag itself slowly along. Han had an ashy complexion, which on a cloudy day could blend in perfectly with the color of the surrounding sky and make him invisible a first-rate camouflage. The only distinctive feature about him was a large lump in his throat. When he spoke, the lump went up and down. Watching it, Hung-chien felt his own throat begin to itch. When Han stopped to swallow saliva, the lump would nearly disappear and then reappear again, reminding Hung-chien of a frog swallowing flies. Noticing how little Han spoke and how much effort it took, Hung-chien wished Han could have pulled out the Adam's apple like a stopper from a bottle and let the rest of his speech flow more freely. Han invited Hung-chien over for dinner, and when Hung-chien had thanked him, Han still sat stiffly in his seat saying nothing. Hung-chien was obliged to carry on the conversation. He asked, "I heard you married Mrs. Han in America." Han nodded, stretched his neck, and swallowed some saliva. The saliva went down, and up floated a sentence from beneath the lump in his throat, "Have you ever been to America?" "No, I've never been there " might as well test him out "but I once thought of going. I corresponded with a Dr. Mahoney." Am I being oversensitive? Han seemed to redden slightly, like the sun suddenly showing through on a cloudy day. "The fellow's a swindler." Han's tone was in no way agitated. Nor did he say more. "I know. What Carleton University? I was nearly taken in by him." Hung-chien was thinking, if Han ' s willing to admit the Irishman is a "swindler , " Han must know he can ' t put anything over on me. "You weren't taken in by him, were you? Carleton University is a good school. He was a junior employee who had been discharged. He used the name
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to cheat money out of ignorant people abroad. You really weren't taken in? Well, that's good, then. " "You mean there really is a school called Carleton? I thought it was all the work of that Irishman." Hung-chien sat up, surprised. "A very serious, strict school, though very few people know about it nary students have a hard time getting i~." "Mr. Lu said that you had graduated from that school. " "Y es. " Hung-chien was filled with suspicions and would really have liked to question Han in detail, but as it was their first meeting, he could not very well pin him down on it. That would only make it look as though he didn't believe Han. Besides, the man was so sparing with words, he'd never get anything out of him. The best thing would be to take a look at Han's diploma when he had the chance. Then he'd know for sure whether or not Han's Carleton University and his own Carleton University were one and the same. On his way home Han Hsueh-yti' s legs felt slightly limp. Lu Tzu-hsiao's report was quite correct, he thought. This Fang fellow had had dealings with the Irishman. Luckily Fang had never been to America. He wished he knew whether Fang really hadn't bought a diploma. Fang could be lying. Fang Hung-chien found the dinner at the Hans quite satisfactory. Though Han Hstieh-yti did not say much, he was a thoughtful host. Mrs. Han was very homely with her red hair and freckled face, which looked like flyspecks on a cake, but her manner was so lively that she seemed electrifying. Hung-chien had found from close study that Westerners are ugly in a different way from Chinese: Chinese ugliness seems to be the result of the Creator' s having skimped on time and materials. It is a slapdash, perfunctorily put together ugliness. Westerners' ugliness seems a mark of the Creator' s spite. He has purposely set out to play jokes with the facial features. The ugliness thus has a plan and a motive behind it. Mrs. Han declared repeatedly how much she loved China, but then at the same time she would say that daily life in China was not as convenient as in New York. Hung-chien felt in the end that her accent was not genuine. He himself had never been to America, but if Chao Hsin-mei were there, he could have detected it. Maybe she had immigrated to New York. No one had been so attentive toward him since he came to the school. His depression of the last few days gradually disappeared. Why should he care whether Han Hsueh-yu' s diploma was fake or not? He thought. In any case Han and he were good friends, and that was all that mattered. One thing bothered him, however. When Mrs. Han was talking about New York, Han Hstieh-yti had signaled her with his eyes, which had not escaped his notice. It was as though he had
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overheard someone talking about him behind his back. Maybe he was just being oversensitive, and he'd better forget about it. In high spirits, he went straight over to see Hsin-mei. "Old Chao, I'm back. Sorry about todaymaking you eat by yourself. " Since Han Hsiieh-yii had not invited him, Hsin-mei had eaten a cold, hard meal of the day by himself. The food he' d eaten soured his stomach, while what he hadn' t eaten soured his thoughts. He said, "So our international VIP is back! Did you have a good dinner? Was it Chinese or Western food? Was the foreign wife a good hostess?" "It was Chinese food that their maid cooked. Mrs. Han sure is ugly! You can find such an ugly wife in China, too. Why go abroad to search for such a treasure! Hsin-mei, I wish you'd been there today " "Humph, thanks. Who else was there today? ] ust you? Well, isn't that something! Han Hsiieh-yii ignores everyone else all the way from the president down to his own colleagues just to cater to you. Are you a relative of the foreign wife or something?" Hsin-mei couldn' t stop laughing at his own jokes. Inwardly pleased with all this, Hung-chien pretended to take umbrage, saying, "So an associate professor is a nobody, is he? Only you big department heads and professors are eligible to make friends with each other, are you? Seriously, Hsin-mei, if you' d been there today, we could have solved the question of Mrs. Han's nationality. You're an old America hand. If you'd heard her speak and put a few questions to her, then the truth would have been out. " Though Hsin-mei found these remarks very agreeable, he still wasn't ready to look pleased. "You really have no sense of gratitude. After eating their food, you still have to poke your nose around and try to pry into their secrets. As long as she's a woman, she can be a wife. What difference does it make if she's American or Russian? Are you trying to tell me if she were an American she ' d be twice as much a woman? More efficient than others at having children?" Hung-chien said with a smile, " I ' m interested in Han Hsiieh-yii' s academic credentials. I just have a feeling that if his wife's nationality is fake, then his academic credentials are open to question, too. " "Why don' t you save yourself the trouble? Look, you can't get away with a lie. Ever since you pulled that trick, you've been oversuspicious of other people. I know the whole thing was a joke, but a joke can end up causing a lot of trouble! People like us who behave ourselves properly don' t get so suspicious of everything. " "Oh, doesn't that just sound beautiful?" said Hung-chien crossly. •
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"When I first told you Han Hsileh-yil' s salary was a grade higher than yours, why did you get so mad you wanted to throw away your cone-shaped hat?" "I'm not that small-minded. It's all your fault. You come to me with all these rumors you've heard. Otherwise, I have peace of mind and no reason to pick a quarrel with anybody. " Hsin-mei had learned a new pose. While listening to someone, he would recline in his chair with his eyes closed; only the smoke curling from the pipe at the corner. of his mouth indicated he was not asleep. Hung-chien was already peeved at seeing him this way, and these last few remarks were more than he could take. "All right, all right! I ' d sooner die than argue with you. " Sensing that Hung-chien was really aroused, Hsin-mei quickly opened his eyes and said, " I was only joking. Don ' t get so mad that you upset your stomach. Here, have a cigarette. Later you probably won' t be able to go to someone' s house for dinner! Didn' t you see the notice? Oh, of course, you couldn' t have. There ' s a school administrative meeting the day after tomorrow to discuss the implementation of the tutorial system. I've heard the tutors will have to eat with the students." Hung-chien returned dejectedly to his room. A rare moment of high spirits had to he ruined by a friend. Man was created to be lonely. Each one has to keep to himself and never have anything to do with anyone else to his dying day. When the body can' t hold something, whether it be digested or eliminated, it is the individual's own business. So why does one have to seek out a companion to share the emotions his heart can't contain? When he's with other people, he is forever offending or being offended. As with porcupines, each one just has to keep a distance from the others. If they get close, this one will be sticking that one's flesh, or that one will be scraping this one's skin. Hung-chien really felt like unburdening these emotions to someone who could understand. Miss Sun seemed to understand him better than Hsin-mei. At least she listened with great interest to what he had to say -but then, if as he had just said, people should avoid contact with each other, how could he go seeking out a woman! Maybe when men are together they are like a herd of porcupines, while men together with women are likeHung-chien couldn't think what they were like, and he opened his notebook to prepare for the next day's class. Hung-chien was still teaching three hours of class. Whenever other faculty members began talking about his teaching load, they never failed to tell him to his face how much they envied his leisure. It seemed Kao Sungnien had his own motives for giving him special treatment. Hung-chien had never studied logic before and had no reference books handy. Though he
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worked hard at preparing, he found no interest in it, and the students in his class were there for the credits only. According to the school regulations, students in the College of Letters and Law had to choose one course among Physics, Chemistry, Biology, and Logic. Most of them swat med like bees to Logic, because it was the easiest "It's all rubbish" · and not only did they not have to conduct experiments, but when it was cold, they could stick their hands in their sleeves and not take notes. They chose it because it was easy, and because it was easy, they looked down on it the way men look down on easy-to-get women. Logicwas "rubbish," and so naturally the person teaching logic was a piece of "trash. " He was "nothing but an associate professor," who belonged to no department besides. In their eyes, Hung-chien's position was not much higher than that of instructors of party ideology or military drill. But those teaching party ideology and military drill had been sent by a government agency. Hung-chien didn't have as much status as they did. "I' ve heard he's Chao Hsin-mei' s cousin. He came with him. Kao Sung-nien just hired him as a lecturer, but Chao Hsin-mei wangled an associate professorship for him." No wonder Hung-chien always had the feeling that the students in his class did not take his lectures very seriously. In that kind of atmosphere teaching could hardly be very exciting. What made it worse was that logic was so dry and tasteless at the start. It wasn't until he got to the third stage of dialectics that he could spice it up with a few jokes. In the meantime there was no way to make it more palatable. Besides this there were two other things which disturbed Hung-chien. One was calling the roll. He recalled that among the prominent professors he had had, none of them ever called roll or reported student absences. This was how a great scholar went about it: "If you want to listen, then come listen. It's all the same to me." Overcome with admiration, he could not but imitate them. At the first class Hung-chien was like Adam in the Book of Genesis calling out the names of the newly created animals. After that, he didn' t even bring his roll book. By the second week he discovered that of the fifty-odd students, seven or eight were absent. Those empty seats were like the empty gap..<> in a mouth after several teeth have been lost. They gave one an uncomfortable feeling. The next time he noticed that while the women students were holding firmly to their original seats in the first row, the men students seemed to have taken the seats starting from the back, leaving the second row empty. One student sat all by himself in the third row. As Hungchien was surveying this formation, the men students all grinned mischievously and lowered their heads. Following his glance the women students turned and glanced back, then looked around at him and smiled. He at least managed to refrain from commenting, "Obviously my power to repel •
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you is greater than the women's power to attract you. " After that he decided he would just have to take roll. At this rate there'd be no one left to listen to him but the desks and chairs, which had feet but were without the power to run away. But then, how humiliating it was suddenly to go from the permissiveness of a great scholar to the tediousness of a grade school teacher! These students were not to be outfoxed. They had seen through his intention. The other thing was the lectures. It was like trying to make clothes out of a piece of material that is not big enough. He thought he had prepared sufficient material, only to find when he got to class that as he spoke, it shrank away faster than he could stop it. When he had just about reached the end of his notes, the dismissal bell was still a long way off. An empty stretch of time in which there was nothing to say approached like a white torrent of rushing water heading toward a car driven at full throttle. He stood watching in panic with no place to escape. His thoughts in turmoil, he searched desperately for something to say to fill in, but after a few sentences it was all finished. He stole a glance at his watch and found that he had delayed only half a minute. At that point he turned hot all over, his face flushed slightly, and he began to stutter, certain that the students were all secretly laughing at him. Once, just like a man given a laxative after going hungry for a few days, he could not even squeeze anything out no matter how hard he tried, and he just had to dismiss class a quarter of an hour early. When he talked to Hsinmei about it, he found that Hsin-mei had the same problem and said that after all, someone just starting to teach had no experience. Hsin-mei added, "Now I understand why foreigners say 'kill time' to mean beat the few moments of misery before the bell! I really wish I could chop it in two with one blow." Hung-chien had just recently hit upon a way, if not to kill time instantly, at least to inflict it with a few mortal wounds. He was forever writing on the blackboard. It took as much time to write one word on the blackboard as it did to speak ten. His face and hands would be covered with chalk dust, and his arm would be sore for a while, but it was all worth it. At least he wouldn't have to dismiss class early any more. The students, however, did not put much effort into taking notes. Often when he threw all his energy into lecturing, some of them just sat there without writing down a word. Only after he began to stare at them menacingly did they finally take pen in hand and reluctantly draw a few characters in their notebooks. This annoyed him, though he didn't think he could be as bad as Li Mei- t' ing. But next door in Li Mei-t' ing' s class on "The History of Social Customs of the Ch' in and Han," the students' laughter never ceased, while his own class was always dull and lifeless. When he was in school, he thought, he wasn' t such a bad student. So
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why was he so undistinguished as a teacher? Surely teaching wasn ' t something like writing poetry, which required a "special talent"? He regretted not having picked up an expert's title while studying abroad. Then when he came back, he could awe everyone with his authority, giving a few courses from his collection of notes taken in all his foreign professors ' classes. He wouldn't have to hang around doing odd jobs the way he was now, taking charge of the leftover subjects. People like Li Mei-t' ing, who had been teaching for years, had ready-made lecture notes. He himself had no experience or even any preparation, and was teaching a course that was not of his own choice. If he wanted to consult references, there were no books available, so of course he couldn't teach very well. If he could just make it through this year and Kao Sung-nien kept his promise to promote him to professor, then in the summer when he returned to Shanghai, he could get some foreign books to look over and by next school year he could surely do just as well as Li Mei-t' ing. With these thoughts in mind, Hung-chien regained his self-confidence. In the year since Hung-chien had come back, he had drifted away from his father. In the old days he would always report every last detail to his father. Now he could just imagine what that reply would be. If his father were in a good mood, he would console him with such words as "Sometimes a foot is too short and an inch is too long. A scholar doesn' t necessarily make a good teacher." It was enough to make one cringe with shame. If his father were in a bad mood, he would undoubtedly rebuke him for not having studied harder before and only cramming everything in at the last minute. There might even be admonitions about ''Repairing the fold after the sheep are lost," or "One learns as one teaches. " This was what the students had to listen to during the weekly Commemoration Assembly. He had heard enough of it already as a faculty member. There was no need to have it sent in from hundreds of miles away. The day before the administrative meeting was to be held, Hung-chien and Hsin-mei decided to go to town for dinner, afraid that once the tutorial system was put into effect they would no longer have that time. That afternoon Lu Tzu-hsiao dropped by for a chat and asked Hung-chien if he heard about Miss Sun. When Hung-chien asked him what had happened, Lu replied, " If you don' t know about it, then never mind. " Knowing Lu' s ways, Hung-chien didn't press him. After a moment Lu Tzu-hsiao stared sharply at Hung-chien as though trying to peer through him and said, "You really don't know? How could that be?" Then enjoining him to keep it strictly confidential, he told him the whole story. As soon as the Office of Instruction had announced that Miss Sun was going to teach Section Four English, the Section Four students had called an emergency meeting and sent a •
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representative to the president and the dean to protest it. Their reason was this: Since they were all students, those in charge should not discriminate. Why were the other sections taught by associate professors while Section Four was assigned to a teaching assistant? They knew their level wasn't very high, and that was why, they argued with righteous indignation, they deserved a good professor to teach them. Thanks to Kao Sung-nien' s skill, the turmoil had been quelled. The students had no fear of Miss Sun, however, the discipline in the classroom was rather poor, and the compositions they wrote for her were· simply atrocious. Miss Sun asked the Foreign Languages Department Chairman Liu for permission to have the Section Four students practice writing sentences instead of compositions. When the students learned of that, they fussed and asked Miss Sun why when other people were writing compositions, they were making sentences and being treated like high school . students. She had said, "Because you can' t write compositions," to which they replied, "We can' t write com positions, so we should be learning how to." She could get nowhere with them and had to ask Chairman Liu to come explain things to them before the matter was finally settled. It was composition day. When Miss Sun entered the classroom, she saw written on the board [in English]: "Beat down Miss S. Miss S. is Japanese enemy!" The students were all waiting expectantly with grins on their faces. Miss Sun asked them to make sentences, but they all said they hadn' t brought any paper and would only do oral exercises. When she asked one student to make a sentence in each of the three persons singular and plural, the student rattled off in one breath as if reciting, "I am your husband you are my wife he is " The whole class roared also your husband we are your many husbands with laughter, and Miss Sun stalked out in a rage. There was no knowing how the matter would end. Lu Tzu-hsiao further declared, "That student is in the Chinese Literature Department. I gave the students in our History Department a private talk, urging them not to make trouble in Miss Sun' s class. It might make people think Mr. Han wanted his wife to teach that section and was inciting the students to chase Miss Sun out." "I didn't know anything about it," said Hung-chien. "I haven't seen Miss Sun for a long time. So that' s what's been happening. " Lu threw Hung-chien another sharp glance and said, "I thought you saw a lot of each other. " Just as Hung-chien was saying, "Who told you that?" Miss Sun walked in. Lu quickly got up and offered her his seat. On his way out, he cocked his head to one side and gave Hung-chien a nod to show that he had caught him in his lie. Hung-chien, who didn't take the time to pay attention, quickly asked Miss Sun how she'd been lately. Abruptly turning her face away, she covered
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