Waiting

1

In the spring of 1972 Lin Kong received a letter from his cousin Liang Meng, who had grown up in Wujia County and gone to the same middle school as Lin had. Now Liang Meng lived in Hegang, a coal-mining city about eighty miles west of Muji. Since they had not kept up a regular correspondence, his letter came as a surprise to Lin.

He asked Lin to help him find a girlfriend in the army hospital, because he would like to marry a doctor or a nurse. His wife had died two years before, leaving him three children. After long grief, he felt ready to continue with his life. Besides, his family needed a woman to keep the home together. For months he had been looking for a girlfriend in Hegang City, but without success; either the women had disliked the size of his family or he had thought them too vulgar. He was a well-educated man.

Liang Meng's letter brought a ray of hope to the situation that trapped Lin and Manna. The previous summer Lin had returned home and broached the topic of divorce again. To his surprise, Shuyu agreed, but when they arrived at Wujia Town, she couldn't stop her tears in front of the judge and then changed her mind. As a result, the request was declined and Lin was humiliated by the judge, who reprimanded him in harsh language, even calling him "a shameless man." When he returned to the hospital and briefed Manna about the court's rejection, she was disappointed and seemed to have doubts about his effort. She wanted him to promise that he would definitely carry through on the divorce in the near future, but he would not fix a deadline, arguing that all he could do was try his best the next year.

He felt tired and had returned to his former placid state and read more novels and magazines when he had time. His eyes had grown more myopic, and he had to wear a pair of thicker glasses, which made him look gentler. In contrast, Manna had by now become fractious and often quarreled with others. When a few new nurses were assigned to her group, as their head nurse she ordered them around, even telling them to do an orderly's work, such as feeding patients, changing sheets, mopping floors, cleaning bedpans. If an officer's wife looked at her with meaningful eyes, Manna would glare back, as if ready to start a shouting match. When walking with Lin in the evening, if he stopped to talk with a friend or a colleague, she would move away, waiting and watching from a distance, as though she hadn't known them. Behind her back, people called her "a typical old maid." Lin noticed the changes in her, but he didn't know how to help her except to try to get the divorce the next summer. And about that he was uncertain.

Now, his cousin's letter pointed to a possible way for Manna to find a boyfriend. It had never occurred to Lin that unlike the army hospital staff here, civilians in other cities and towns might not regard Manna as his fiancee. So why shouldn't she look for a man elsewhere, outside the army? In any event she must not wait for him passively. Heaven knew when he could succeed in divorcing his wife. In his heart he felt the divorce could easily drag on for five or six years. Probably it would never materialize at all.

Can you really let her go? he asked himself. The question like a pang constricted his chest a little. Though he no longer had the same romantic passion for Manna as he used to have, he was still very much attached to her and could see there was a slight possibility that they might get married someday. She was his woman, the only one he had ever had deep feelings for. Could he give her up? If she and his cousin were married, how would he feel if he ran into them in the future? Wouldn't he hate himself for introducing her to him? If he lost Manna, where could he find another woman as good as she?

Those questions tormented him for several days. Then he made up his mind to mention his cousin to Manna, believing this was a good opportunity for her. She deserved a man who could offer her more than he could. It was a painful decision on his part, but it was necessary. If this static affair between them continued, both his and her careers would be affected or even ruined. In many people's eyes the two of them had already become near-pariahs involved in something illegitimate. It would be too depressing to let the sinister shadows hang on them forever. He had best cut the entangled knot once and for all.

"Look," he said to Manna as they strolled behind the Medical Ward, "I don't mean to upset you, but there's a good way you can find a boyfriend."

Her face fell. "Don't talk about that again. I know you're tired of me."

"Don't be so grumpy. I'm not joking this time." "

Like you didn't mean business before."

"Come on, you know how I feel about you, but we can't get married."

"So? I can wait. "

"We don't know how long you may end up waiting."

"I don't care. "

"Please listen to me!"

She stopped and looked him in the face. A few gnats were flying around them. The last sunlight fell on the thick aspen leaves, which turned glossy, flickering and rustling in the breeze. A dog burst out barking and prancing behind the steel netting of the kennel, before which gathered a group of small boys and girls watching the animal struggling in vain to get out.

Lin went on, "A cousin of mine wrote me a letter recently. He asks me to find a girlfriend for him in our hospital. I don't mean you should go with him. It just dawned on me that you might be able to find a boyfriend in another city, where nobody knows about us. The man doesn't have to be an officer." He stopped to catch his breath.

With her lips curled up she said, "I've thought about that a hundred times. It's not so simple."

"How come?" He was amazed by her words, thinking, So you did think about how to dump me.

"Even if I married a man in another city, how could I join him without being discharged? If I remained in the army, he and I would have to live separately. That situation is what I don't want."

"Can't the man move to Muji?"

"Probably he could, but how about us? How would you feel about me marrying another man? Would you be comfortable running into me here every day? Wouldn't the word about our relationship reach the man's ears? Then what would happen to the marriage? Heavens, it gives me a headache to think about this. I feel hopeless."

Her explanation surprised him, as he had never thoroughly understood the complexity of her situation. After a long pause he said, "You shouldn't worry so much. Don't take my feelings into account. Do whatever is good for yourself."

"What could I do?"

"Start to look for a man in another city?"

"Where?"

"Anywhere. For instance, my cousin Liang Meng in Hegang is available. Start looking as soon as you can. Do it step by step, and don't worry in advance. There's always a way out of every situation."

"Okay, tell me about your cousin." She raised her head, and a sly smile curved her lips.

He began to talk about Liang Meng, who was thirty-eight, a middle school teacher, five feet ten, healthy, intelligent, and reliable, though he was a widower with three children.

Lin produced his cousin's letter from his pants pocket and handed it to her, saying, "You should read this and think about what he says. Take your time to decide. If you want to meet him, I'll be glad to help." Then he added, pointing at the envelope, "His handwriting is very handsome, don't you think?"

"Yes, it looks scholarly."

"When you have thought this through, let me know what you'd like to do, all right?"

"I will."

A week later Manna told him that she wouldn't mind the size of Liang Meng's family since she was fond of children, and that she was more interested in seeing what the man himself was like. Lin was ready to help, but he warned her not to raise her hopes too much in case she might find Liang Meng unsuitable.

Without delay he wrote to his cousin and described Manna as a wonderful match, a woman who was honest and good-hearted and had never been married, without any family ties. Besides, she had strong moral fiber, working hard and living plainly. In a word, she was definitely one in a hundred.

Liang Meng's reply came two weeks later, saying that when school was over in Hegang in June he would come to Muji to attend a wood-engraving class, and that he would be delighted to meet Manna. He thanked Lin profusely for the matchmaking, saying he had been so moved that words almost failed him.

So Lin planned to introduce the two in June.

2

Liang Meng came to Muji as planned. The mail office called Lin and notified him of his cousin's arrival. Lin sauntered to the front entrance to meet him. He and Liang Meng shook hands for a good ten seconds and then waved at the soldier in the sentry box; together they turned and went on into the hospital.

"Did you have a good trip?" Lin asked his cousin.

"Yes. But the train was so crowded I couldn't find a seat."

"Do you have a place to stay in town?"

"Yes, in the Fine Arts Institute."

While walking they glanced at each other continually. Liang Meng's smile reminded Lin of their adventures on the Songhua River twenty-five years before. His cousin had been an excellent swimmer, able to float on his back as if taking a nap, whereas Lin had not dared enter the main channel and had always dog-paddled in the shallows. Life had passed like a dream – twenty-five years were gone in a blink of an eye. Look at his cousin now – he resembled a typical middle-aged man.

"Elder brother, this is a gorgeous place," Liang Meng said sincerely. "It's so clean here, everything's in order."

Lin smiled, amazed by the comment. Yes, he thought, if compared with a coal mine.

He led his cousin to the dormitory. To his surprise, his roommate Jin Tian was there with his fiancee, frying some walleye pollack on a kerosene stove. It was almost three o'clock, so he took Liang Meng directly to Manna, knowing she worked the second shift these days, slept in the morning, and must be up now. He felt bad for his cousin, who looked tired, but he couldn't find a peaceful place where Liang Meng could rest awhile before meeting Manna. Another inconvenience was that if they met in the hospital, Lin had to accompany them like a chaperon; otherwise the intention of Manna's being alone with a male stranger would have been construed by others.

They found Manna in her bedroom, but one of her roommates was still sleeping in there, so together the three of them went out to look for a place where they could talk a little. On their way Lin bought three sodas at a refreshment stand sheltered by a khaki sunshade in front of the grocery store.

Before the medical building they found an unoccupied granite table beneath a grape trellis. They sat down, each drinking a bottle of Tiger Spring soda. The air was intense with camphor, and bumblebees were droning and darting about. A fat larva, hanging from a long strand of silk spat by itself, was wriggling upward in a slanting sunbeam that filtered through the grape leaves. Doctors in white robes were passing by, with either a folded newspaper or a stethoscope in their baggy pockets. Two nurses were pushing a long wheeled oxygen cylinder like a torpedo, giggling, poking fun at each other, and shooting glances at Manna.

Liang Meng, looking troubled, told them he had to give up the wood-engraving class and return home within two days, because his daughter had been struck by inflammation of the brain and was just out of danger in the hospital. He had to phone home in the evening to check on her condition. Manna realized he had come all the way mainly to meet her.

She wondered whether he actually measured five feet ten as his letter claimed. He was a scrawny man and looked older than his age. His appearance was unusual. His hairline had receded almost to the center of his crown, making his shiny forehead bulbous. But his eyebrows were broad and thick, and reached the lids of his deep-socketed eyes. Under his hooked nose was a protruding mouth whose lower lip enfolded the upper. When he spoke, his head would tilt to the right as though there was a pain in his neck.

"What kind of grapes are these?" Liang Meng rose from his seat and plucked a green grape from the vine above his head.

"No idea," Lin said tepidly.

Manna was rather surprised by his terse answer. Just now when they arrived at her dormitory, Lin had been happy. Why did he look rather sullen now? She said to the high-spirited guest, "I don't know either."

Liang Meng put the grape into his mouth and began chewing it. "Bah! it's no good, too sour." He spat its skin and pips to the ground. "We have lots of grapes in our yard."

"Really?" she asked. "Are they good?"

"Of course. Sweet and big."

Despite seeing Lin frown a little, she asked again, "What kind of grapes are they?"

"Mainly Fragrant Rose and Sheep Nipples. We have a bumper harvest this year. The trellises nearly collapsed, and I propped them up with wood stakes. What happened is that we buried some dead animals at the roots of the grapevines in the spring. God, that doubled the yield."

"What animals did you bury?" she asked.

"Well, some dead chickens and ducks, and a mad dog, that was our neighbor's. The dog bit a schoolgirl and was shot by the police." He turned to Lin. "Elder brother, I meant to ask your professional opinion. Do you think it safe to eat grapes fattened up by a rabid dog?"

"I have no professional opinion," Lin said curtly. Then he caught himself and added, "What a question! By common sense that should not be a problem."

Manna was intrigued by Liang Meng's talking of grapes. Evidently he was a family man; he even raised poultry, although he was a sort of intellectual. Perhaps she should find out more about him.

Since the hospital was an inconvenient place for more conversation, Lin suggested that the next day his cousin and Manna meet and talk by themselves somewhere in the city. They agreed to rendezvous at Victory Park. Perhaps the Songhua River was a more pleasant place, but there were always so many people on the bank that they might miss each other.

Victory Park lies at the southern end of the city. It was built in 1946, in memory of the Russian soldiers who had fallen while fighting Japanese troops in Manchuria toward the end of the Second World War. At the main entrance to the park, a stout statue of a fully equipped Russian soldier stood against an obelisk; his helmet and the barrel and round magazine of his submachine gun were missing, chopped off by the Red Guards at the outset of the Cultural Revolution. But currently the statue was under repair, surrounded by scaffolding. On the ground, in front of the monument, a slogan was still legible: "Down with Russian Chauvinism!" Those words had been scraped off, but the dark strokes remained distinguishable on the grayish concrete.

Manna arrived at ten o'clock. Inside the park, Victory Lake was greened by drooping willows. Two young men, apparently college students, were laughing heartily and paddling a dinghy, whose bow carried a line of words in red paint: "Long Live Chairman – -!" The word "Mao" had washed off. A few pairs of white ducks and wild geese were swimming near the bank. Manna leaned over the railing on a stone bridge and observed carps gliding in the water beneath, most of them about a foot long. She had on a yellow poplin shirt, which together with the army skirt made her look younger and more curvaceous. She was sweating a little because of the long walk, so she remained in the shade of a willow, which sheltered almost a third of the bridge. A sudden breeze blew a few candy wrappers into the air, and a brown plastic bag was flapping on the blossoms of a cherry tree. She remembered meeting her first love, Mai Dong, at this place. That had been eight years before. How time had passed. The park was different now, almost unrecognizable; it had become a zoo, noisy and crowded, with hundreds of animals kept in iron cages and deep concrete pits. On the opposite shore, behind rows of trees, stood several new buildings.

Her memory of Mai Dong feeding mallards with popped rice on this very bridge brought a slight contraction to her chest. Where is he now? she wondered. What a heartless man he was. Does he really love his cousin? What does he do for a living? Is he still in Shanghai? Does he often think of me?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a male voice speaking from behind her. "Hey, Comrade Manna Wu." Liang Meng appeared, carrying a large manila envelope under his arm and waving at her.

She waved back, but didn't move toward him.

Coming over, he smiled and shook hands with her. "How is your daughter?" asked Manna.

"She's doing all right. She returned home yesterday afternoon. My sister-in-law is with her now. The doctor said there wouldn't be any aftereffects. "

"That's good news. Is she your oldest child?"

"No, she's the youngest and she has two brothers. One is eleven and the other nine. She's seven."

They turned to go farther into the park. Before they stepped off the bridge, Liang Meng cleared his throat and spat into the water. Immediately a red carp, about two feet long, rushed over and swallowed the blob of phlegm. Manna made a mental note that Lin wouldn't do that. They bore left, walking along the bank clockwise.

He told her that he had heard a great deal about her from Lin and was impressed by her work as a head nurse. Then, without a transition, he began talking about himself. He had graduated from Harbin Teachers School in i96j, specializing in the fine arts. The graduation year was significant, meaning that his education had not been disrupted by the Cultural Revolution. Unfortunately his wife had died two years ago; people used to call them "a pair of mandarin ducks," meaning an affectionate couple. True, the two of them had spent some peaceful, loving years together and had never fought or quarreled. His children were well disciplined and sensible, the boys being model students at school. Though approaching middle age, he was in good health and only had a cold sometimes in winter when the air in Hegang was heavy with coal dust. He earned seventy-two yuan a month; since they had no debt, the family managed fine.

Manna was afraid he would ask about her rank and salary. If he did, their relationship would end here, because she hated that kind of materialistic attitude. But he had the decency not to raise the question, and instead he switched to the topic of his teaching.

When they reached the opposite shore, the dome of a concrete building emerged on their left, partly blocked from view by poplar crowns. That was the city's Children's Palace. A row of sedans – Warsaws, Volgas, and Red Flags – were parked in a lot encircled by hawthorn hedges. Children's singing, accompanied on the organ, could be heard.

Manna and Liang Meng sat down on a long bench facing the lake. The blue paint on the bench was flaky in places, and the wooden slats forming its back felt scaly. On their left a cartridge box sat on the ground, filled with snow crocuses. Liang Meng put the large envelope on his lap and pulled out a few small drawings. " These are my work. I hope you like them," he said and handed them to her. She noticed he had stubby fingers.

She looked through the drawings. They were all illustrations of a battle in which the Vietcong wiped out the American invaders. In one of the pieces, two enemy men – a black soldier and a white officer – were impaled upon the bamboo stakes in a trap, yelling " Help!" Manna wasn't interested in the illustrations. She had come here to see the man, not his work. She handed them back and said blandly, "Good pictures."

"They are for a children's book. You like them?"

"Yes. When will the book come out?"

He knit his brows and muttered, "It was supposed to be out this year, but the publishing house wants to wait."

"How's that?"

"There're too many books of this kind on the market. I'm told that the United States is no longer our chief enemy. So they don't want to publish the book now."

"What are they publishing?"

"Anything related to criticizing Confucius."

"Then why not draw something they want?"

"It's so hard to predict the wind. If I take up a project now, by the time I'm done with it, it will probably be out of fashion."

"I'm sorry. " She truly felt for him.

He put the drawings back into the envelope. "It's all right. I just did these pieces as an exercise. But God knows how hard I worked on them. "

"I can tell you did."

A pause set in, and Manna looked across the lake for a view of the other shore. She was struck by the sight of the massive mountain in the southeast. It suddenly brightened as sunlight penetrated the clouds and fell on its craggy shoulders. She said to Liang Meng, " Wow, look at that mountain!"

"It's really pretty," he echoed.

In the distance, beyond the train station where locomotives were chugging past and puffing dark smoke, the immense mountain rose, tall, rugged, indigo. The jagged rocks on its ridges pierced the mist surrounding it; a footpath could be seen winding up the precipitous slope and disappearing in the clouds. A few birds were soaring almost motionlessly along the middle of a cliff; an air-raid cave beside the path was visible owing to the yellowish fresh earth dumped at its mouth, which formed a gigantic triangle spreading down the slope. The sun cast a few colorful streaks of light above the pine woods that stretched on the western shoulder of the mountain. Suddenly a dusty cloud arose from a ridge; the birds swerved in the air, soaring higher. A few seconds later came the sound of an explosion. Apparently people were quarrying rocks up there.

"I never thought the mountain looked so awesome," Manna said to him.

"Yes, it's lovely. "

"We can hardly see it from the hospital. "

"Because of the smog or too many buildings blocking the view, I guess. "

"No, not because of those things only. You just forget that the mountain is there and so awesome. You're too mindful of things and people around you."

She grew thoughtful as he straightened his neck and recited loudly, "The mountains and rivers are so enchanting / They have inspired innumerable heroes to compete for them." He was quoting from Chairman Mao's poem "Snow."

Manna tittered. He turned, looking at her in some perplexity. " What's so funny?" he asked.

"Nothing." She took out her cambric handkerchief and dabbed the sweat from her cheeks.

Two boys ran by, each with an iron bar in his hand rolling a steel hoop that was the rim of a bicycle wheel. The harsh, metallic noise jarred on Manna's nerves.

She stood up and said she had to leave now because she had to sleep a few hours before her night shift. He got to his feet, and together they went back the way they had come.

Passing the bridge, she caught sight of a bus waiting at the entrance to the park, so she promptly took her leave without saying whether she would like to meet him again. She hurried through the crowd, striding toward the bus. He followed her a few steps, then stood on a stone bench and watched her disappear among the passengers. He waved at the bus as it rolled away with popping coughs. His upper body rose above the pedestrians' heads bobbing around him. His neck stretched so long that Manna covered her mouth with her palm to keep from laughing.

When she told Lin about his cousin's drawings and his reciting Chairman Mao's poetry, he shook his head and said, "What a bookworm. But Manna, he's a trustworthy man, don't you think?"

"I don't know. He's so strange. "

"Look, you don't have to decide now. Think about him. If you want to meet him again, let me know."

"Again? Not for a thousand."

A week later Lin received a letter and a parcel from his cousin, which contained a pound of dried oyster mushrooms. Liang Meng wrote that he was very interested in Manna and that she seemed to him very "mature and unaffected." He hoped they could hit it off when they saw each other next time. Since Lin didn't cook, he gave the mushrooms to Ming Chen, the new director of the Personnel Section, who had treated Lin's arthritis with acupuncture and always cut his hair.

Showing Liang Meng's letter to Manna, Lin said, "You see, he has good sense. You should write him back."

"What should I say?"

"Just tell him what you think. "

"Lin, he made me feel like a moron. He really is a character."

"Why is that?"

"I wasn't attracted to him at all. Why did I bother to meet with him in the park?"

"I'm sorry to hear that." He felt a surge of delight in his chest, which to some degree embarrassed him. He turned his face away.

She went on, "In the matter of love, I ought to follow my heart. Even birds may not become mates if you put them together in a cage, not to speak of us human beings. So don't talk about looking for another man again."

"All right." He heaved a sigh of relief. "So you think I'm a better man?" he asked half-jokingly.

"If only I didn't love you so much," she said. Two or three wrinkles appeared at the left corner her mouth, revealing a shadow of sadness.

Manna wrote to Liang Meng the next week, saying that she didn't feel well these days and had to inform him candidly that she suffered from serious rheumatic heart disease. This misinformation must have scared the man. After her letter, Lin never heard from his cousin again.

3

The next summer Lin and Shuyu went to the divorce court again.

The day before setting out for Wujia Town, he had talked with her, promising to take good care of her and their daughter after the divorce, so she had agreed to it. He told her that all he wanted was a home in the city.

They waited almost an hour in the courtroom before the judge appeared. He was a tall police officer who had just been promoted to the position; he was so corpulent that he had no neck. Having sat down on a scarlet leatherette chair, the judge licked his buck teeth, then peered at the couple with one eye open and the other shut, as though aiming a gun. His broad, greasy face reminded Lin of the clay statue of a local god in the Divine Horse Shrine west of Goose Village. With his left hand picking a wart under his nostril and with his right forefinger pointing at Lin, the judge ordered, "Now, present your case."

Lin began with a slight stammer: "Respectable Judge, I – I came here today to beg you to allow me to divorce my wife. We have been separated for six years, and there's no love between us anymore. According to the Marriage Law, every citizen has the freedom to choose a wife or a hus – "

"Excuse me," the judge cut him short. "May I remind you that the law does not say every married man is entitled to a divorce? Go on. "

Lin was flustered. He remained silent for a moment while his face was burning. Then he resumed warily, "I understand that, Comrade Judge, but my wife has already agreed to a divorce. We have worked out an arrangement between us, and I shall financially support her and our child afterward. Believe me, I'm a responsible man. "

As he was speaking, Shuyu covered her mouth with a crumpled piece of paper. Her eyes were closed as though her scalp were smarting.

The judge turned to her after Lin was finished. "Comrade Shuyu Liu, I have a few questions for you. Now promise me you will think about them carefully before you answer me."

"I will." She nodded.

"What's the true reason that your husband wants a divorce?"

"Don't have a clue. "

"Is there a third party involved?"

"What that mean?"

The young scribe, sitting behind the judge and taking notes, shook his head, blinking his round eyes. The judge went on, "I mean, has he been seeing another woman?"

"I reckon there must be lots of them around him in the army. He's a handsome man, you know. "

The scribe chuckled, but the judge kept a stern face. "Answer me, do you know if he's having an affair with another woman?"

"I 'm not sure. He said he needs a family in the city. "

"A family with another woman?"

"Probably true."

"I have a final question for you. Do you still have feelings for him?"

"Oh yes, of course," she moaned, then broke out sobbing, as the last question had touched her heart.

"Do you still love him?"

"Yes. " She nodded, wiping her tears, too moved to say more.

The judge turned to her husband. "Well, Officer Lin Kong, you must confess to the court whether you have a mistress in the city."

"I don't have a mistress, Comrade Judge," he said in a shaking voice, realizing that the judge meant to drag Manna into the case.

"Even if you have no mistress, there must be an illicit love affair. "

"I 've never had an affair. "

"Then with whom will you form a new family in Muji? Another man?"

"Oh no. With a friend of mine."

"What's her name?"

"Is that relevant to this case, Comrade Judge?"

"Of course it is. We have to investigate and find out your true relationship with her before we can decide how to handle your request for a divorce."

"She has nothing to do with this. We have a relationship of pure comradeship. "

"Then why are you so reluctant to tell me her name and work unit? Do you feel too ashamed, or do you want to cover something up?"

"I…I… " Sweat was breaking out on Lin's face.

The judge folded a yellow booklet and with it swatted at a hornet fluttering on the table. He missed the insect, which took off buzzing as if catapulted. He was waiting for the husband to answer the question, but Lin remained speechless, unsure about the consequences if he revealed Manna's name. He glanced at the judge, whose thick-lidded eyes were half closed as though he were about to doze off. Uncertainty kept Lin from saying anything.

Having waited almost two minutes, the judge cleared his throat and concluded, "All right. If you had not done anything to be ashamed of, you would not be afraid of a ghost knocking at your door. We cannot proceed with this case unless you provide us with that woman's name, age, workplace, and marital status. Go home and come again when you have the needed information ready. In the meantime, you must treat your wife decently, like a friend and comrade. The court will check on that." He smiled with one eye screwed up.

Lin knew it was no use to argue, so he said diffidently, "All right, we'll come again."

As if in a trance, he rose to his feet and turned to the door, Shuyu following. His right leg had gone to sleep and made him limp a little.

While the couple were inside the courthouse, Bensheng and a dozen men from Goose Village had stood outside, waving spades, flails, hoes, shoulder poles. They threatened to create a disturbance if the judge granted Lin a divorce. A large crowd gathered on the street, believing the maddened villagers were going to beat up the unfaithful husband. Nobody wanted to miss such a spectacle. The judge called the county's Military Department, which immediately dispatched a militia platoon to keep order outside the courthouse.

"So he's a big officer or something? Still he mustn't be bigger than the law," a middle-aged woman said to others.

"Even an emperor isn't free to divorce his wife," a toothless crone put in.

"Men are all alike, beasts."

An old man in bifocals retorted, "A woman shouldn't be allowed to divorce either, or else there'll be disorder everywhere. The order of the world is rooted in every family, as Confucius said."

"What a heartless animal!"

"He has no reason to do this to her. "

"The army should send him back and let him scratch a living out of the earth."

"I heard he' s a doctor. "

"Small wonder he has no heart. Doctors are butchers."

To the dismay of some of them, the judge had turned down Lin's petition and therefore precluded the anticipated spectacle. Seeing the husband and wife come out of the courthouse, some spectators whispered that the couple indeed didn't match. The husband looked quite gentle, in no way like an evil, abusive man, whereas the wife was as thin as a chicken whose flesh, if cooked, couldn't fill a plate. If they were so different, they might not be able to avoid conflicts. But that should provide no grounds for divorce, because it was normal for a married couple to have a quarrel or even a fist fight once in a while. A good marriage was full of moments of cats and dogs. It was the uneventful marriage that was headed toward disaster. In a word, the differences between the husband and the wife should only help stabilize their marriage.

Lin's face turned bloodless when he saw so many eyes in the crowd glaring at him. Hurriedly he and Shuyu left the courthouse for the bus stop. All the way home he didn't say a word.

After the couple had left, the militia was withdrawn from the courthouse. But it took half an hour for the crowd to disperse completely. The ground was littered with popsicle wrappers and sticks, bottle caps, cucumber ends, patches of melon seeds.

That evening Lin bolted the door of his room and remained inside alone, smoking, thinking, and sighing. He felt lucky that the angry villagers hadn't done any physical harm to him, and that only two women had spat on the ground and balled their fists when he came out of the courtroom. Had he won a divorce, he might not have gotten home unharmed. Maybe he shouldn't have tried to divorce his wife this year. Evidently his brother-in-law had been prepared to deal with him, and he had played right into Bensheng's hands.

The next day, after lunch, Shuyu stepped in with a copy of the county newspaper, Country Constructs, which was merely a hand-written, mimeographed affair at the time. "This just came," she said and handed it to Lin.

"Where did you get it?" he asked without taking the paper.

"Bensheng gave it to me. He said there was a pile of it in the commune opera house."

She left the newspaper on the short-legged table. On the brick bed Hua was napping, her thick lips puffing up a little when she exhaled. Shuyu unfolded a yellow toweling coverlet and drew it over the child, then went out to wash dishes in the cauldron.

Lin picked up the newspaper and began looking through it. On page three he saw a short article about his attempted divorce. It stated:

Having read the article, Lin was wretchedly disappointed. He suspected his brother-in-law might have been behind its publication. The author, who had not signed his name, using "Defender of Morality" instead, must have been Bensheng's friend. Lin clearly remembered that there had been no applause at all when he and Shuyu came out of the courthouse. Obviously this article was meant to shame him and prevent him from seeking to divorce his wife again.

How he hated Bensheng! He decided not to speak to him during the remaining days of his leave.

"Hello, is somebody home?" a throaty voice shouted from the front yard the next afternoon.

Shuyu went out to see who it was. At the sight of the tall man with a massive scar on his left cheek, she beamed and said, "Come on in, elder brother."

The man dropped on a sawhorse a bundle of sweet sorghum canes, each of which was about an inch thick and two feet long. "These are for Hua, from our field," he said.

"You shouldn't have carried them all the way here," Shuyu said. Yet she was happy to see the sweet canes.

"Is Lin home?"

"Yes. "

The visitor was Lin's elder brother, Ren Kong. He wore a blue jacket with brass buttons and a pair of rubber-toed loafers. He had heard of Lin's court appearance, so he came to intercede for Shuyu, whom he regarded almost as a sister because she had done so much for the Kongs. Also, a few months ago he had written to Lin, asking him to bring home some Tower Candy for his children, to get rid of roundworms in their bellies. His three sons had all looked sallow for months; lately his youngest son had a stomachache every afternoon, and worms like thick noodles had been found in the boy's stool. Tower Candy was a sugary pill in the form of a tiny solid cone with spiral grooves on its side. Children in the country loved it and would eat it as a treat.

The army hospital had several drugs for roundworms, but it didn't stock Tower Candy. In spite of the regulation that allowed no one to appropriate drugs for personal use, many of the hospital staff got what they needed from the pharmacy. That was why the three pharmacists each had a good number of friends in the hospital and would receive a lot of gifts on holidays. But Lin was too shy to ask the pharmacists for any medicine without a prescription. He had decided to buy some Tower Candy at a department store, but before taking the leave, he had become so engrossed in completing an article on the topic of becoming "Red and Expert" that he totally forgot his promise to Ren to bring some back. Now, his brother's appearance reminded him of his word. What should he do? He worried, wondering how to come up with an excuse.

The two brothers were chatting and drinking tea while Shuyu was cooking in the kitchen. Hua was with her mother, working the bellows by the cauldron. Lin overheard his wife order the child, "Girl, don't suck that cane while you're working."

"I didn't. I just keep it here," Hua said.

"I say put the cane away."

"No, I want to have it here."

"Give me it!"

Lin shouted to his wife in the kitchen, "Let Hua have it her own way, okay?" That stopped the exchange between mother and daughter.

Lin had never felt attached to Ren because they had not grown up together. In their adolescent years, Lin had gone to school most of the time while Ren worked in the fields. Yet he was grateful to his elder brother, who had never complained about the arrangement made by their parents, which deprived him of the opportunity of education. Ren hadn't even finished elementary school. Looking at his brother's scarred face, which had been hurt by a rock twenty years ago at a construction site, Lin felt bad for him. Because of the injury Ren had married on condition that he live under the roof of his parents-in-law, who were unwilling to let their only daughter leave home. That was why Lin's wife later had to take care of his parents. Ren was merely forty-five now, but he looked about sixty and had already lost three front teeth. His mouth was sunken.

"Brother, you should've talked to me before going to the court with Shuyu," Ren said, placing his teacup on the wooden edge of the brick bed after taking a sip.

"This is my personal matter," Lin said tersely.

"But our parents chose Shuyu for you. Shouldn't you respect their wish?"

"It's their wish that messed up my life."

"Why so?" Ren dragged on his pipe, the tobacco in the bronze bowl glowing red and sizzling faintly. He would never take the cigarettes Lin gave him, saying they were too mild. Seeing that Lin was reluctant to reply, he added, "A man ought to have a conscience. I can't see where Shuyu is not worthy of you. She's given everything to our family. We should take – "

"Like I said, this is my personal matter. "

"Maybe not. A divorce will affect everybody in our family. Kids in my village have already started calling your nephews names, saying, 'Your uncle has two wives,' or, 'Your uncle is a womanizer.' How can you say a divorce is just your own affair?"

Lin was shocked by the question. How ridiculous people are, he thought. How far-fetched their ideas can be. What does my marriage have to do with my nephews' lives? Why should the boys feel ashamed of me?

The bellows stopped in the kitchen. He overheard his wife say to Hua, "Go tell your uncle."

He wondered why Shuyu had sent their daughter to Bensheng. As he was thinking, the door curtain made of strings of glass beads opened and in came his wife with a plate of fried pork. "Time to eat," she said and smiled at Ren.

Lin took out two wine cups. His brother always enjoyed drinking and was famous in the commune for his ability to hold alcohol. Once chosen to accompany some official guests, Ren had outdrunk the county vice-magistrate, who had gone to the village to present medals but ended up lying under a dining table. "What would you like?" Lin asked Ren, though he had only two kinds of liquor.

"Anything. I really don't feel like drinking today."

"Drink some to refresh yourself," Shuyu said. "You must be tired out, such a long way."

Lin opened a bottle of sorghum liquor called White Flame and poured a full cup for his brother and half a cup for himself. Meanwhile Shuyu placed another three dishes on the table – scrambled eggs with onions, sauteed pole beans, and fried peanuts mixed with a pinch of salt.

As they were eating, Hua returned, announcing with a cry, " Uncle's coming. "

Lin frowned when his brother-in-law entered. In Bensheng's left hand was a package wrapped in straw paper. He grinned at Ren, saying in a familiar tone of voice, "Welcome, elder brother, you came at the right time. " He stretched out his hand to Ren.

After they shook hands, Bensheng turned and called to his sister in the kitchen, "Shuyu, get me a plate."

Lin was amazed that Bensheng seemed to know Ren quite well. Did he arrange my brother's visit? he asked himself.

Shuyu brought an empty plate and put it on the table.

"My goodness, what are these?" she said as her brother opened the package.

"Big worms," said Hua.

"Are these some sort of insects?" Ren asked, pointing at the red creatures on the plate, each about three inches long.

"Shrimp," Bensheng told them proudly. "Haven't you heard of shrimp?"

"I have, but I never saw one," said Ren.

"This is my first time too," Bensheng confessed. "I bought them in the county town this morning. When I saw them for sale, I thought, 'Damn, a man must try new things, or he'll die with regret.' So I bought two pounds. Boy, they're expensive, seven yuan a pound. I was told they came from the South and used to be a kind of export stuff that only foreigners could eat."

Lin was surprised by their ignorance. Then he recalled that he had never seen shrimp at the market in Wujia Town, though it was on the river. Doesn't the Songhua have shrimp in it? he wondered. Probably not.

As Lin was thinking, his brother asked, "Are they still alive?"

Both Bensheng and Lin were amused by the question. Lin tried hard to keep back his laughter, but he blurted out, "Yes, alive."

Ren picked one up. "I'm going to sample it anyway, alive or dead. You know, Hua, I eat anything that has more than four legs except for a table." He put the shrimp into this mouth and began munching. "Ouch, it bit my tongue!" He grimaced and covered his mouth with his hand.

"Uncle, is your mouth bleeding inside?" Hua asked innocently. "Can I see it?"

Lin burst out laughing. "Hua, he knew they were cooked. He just wanted to be funny."

"I don't think that's the right way to eat shrimp, though," Bensheng said. "Am I right, Lin?"

All eyes turned to Lin, who, still laughing, was making a kind of bubbling sound in his nose. He stopped to reply, "Yes, you're right. You should get rid of the shell, the claws, and the head first. Like this, use your hand." He stripped the shell from a shrimp and removed the dark dorsal vein, then put it into his mouth. "Umm, it's good, very fresh."

Following his example, the others, except Hua, started to eat the shrimp with relish. The girl was frightened by the crimson creatures and refused to touch one.

Lin put a shelled shrimp in her bowl, but Hua tried to get it out. Bensheng took a sip of White Flame from his cup and said, "Hua, you must try it. It's delicious."

"I don't want to."

"Haven't you eaten silkworm pupas?"

"Yes. "

"This is ten times more delicious. Come, give it a try."

Timidly the girl nibbled the tail of the shrimp. "Tastes good, eh?" Bensheng asked.

Hua nodded and went on eating it, while the grown-ups were laughing. "This girl only listens to her uncle," her mother said.

After Hua finished the shrimp, Bensheng put another into her bowl, but she wouldn't eat more, however hard they tried to persuade her. Her father picked it out of her bowl and ate it himself.

Ren Kong had to leave before eight o'clock because he had to walk nine miles home. Bensheng was on his way to give an account of the annual balance to the production brigade's leaders, so he couldn't stay longer either. After dinner, Lin took out a ten-yuan bill and put it into Ren's hand, saying, "Brother, my hospital doesn't stock Tower Candy, so I couldn't bring any back. Please use this money to buy some at the commune department store for my nephews. "

"You don't have to give me money. I just thought we might get Tower Candy free. "

"Take it, please. "

Ren put the money into his breast pocket. Without drinking tea, the men all got to their feet. As they were leaving the house, Ren stretched up his arms and said, "Ah, I've eaten shrimp at last!" He wouldn't take a small bag of taros Shuyu wanted him to carry back for his wife, explaining it would be too heavy for the long way. Shuyu didn't insist.

At the front gate, they parted company, Bensheng heading in the opposite direction while Lin walked Ren out of the village. Lin was moved and even happy as it crossed his mind that he had not laughed so much in many years. He felt a tenderness toward Ren, who was breathing rather heavily thanks to the liquor he had drunk and carrying his blue jacket in the crook of his left arm. Ren's footsteps were long and firm.

"Brother," Lin said, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Ren paused and turned his head.

"Did Bensheng invite you to come?"

"No, I came of my own free will. He and I are friends of a sort, but we've had no direct contact. To be fair, he isn't that fine a man, but he's always been good to Shuyu and Hua. That's why I like him."

"I know that, brother. Have a safe trip back. Give my greetings to your wife and kids."

"I will. Take good care of yourself, Lin. You're thinner than last year."

As Ren was climbing the bulging slope, on which a few cattle were still grazing, Lin stood under an elm tree, watching his brother moving away. His mind returned to the shrimp dinner. He remembered that he had decided not to speak to Bensheng again, but somehow he had forgotten his decision. Now he and Bensheng seemed to have remained in-laws. If only he could have put on a hard face. If only he could have cut all his ties with that crafty man.

The still moon hung like a gold sickle. Ren's white shirt was wavering on the hill, getting smaller and smaller. Three minutes later it disappeared into the darkness.

4

A week after Lin returned to his army post, Ran Su, who was now the director of the hospital's Political Department, wanted to talk with him. Lin feared that the county court must have reported him to the hospital's Party Committee. Now he seemed to be in trouble.

After lunch, Director Su and Lin went out of the compound, walking toward the middle school, which was three hundred yards southeast of the hospital. Ran Su's splayed feet were very large in comparison with his small stature and slight build. He wore shoes of black cloth, one of which had a hole in the toe. But it was patched up in dense stitches, obviously by his wife, who had recently come to live with him in the army so that their son could start elementary school here.

"How did the divorce go?" he asked Lin.

"The court didn't approve it."

"Why?"

"My brother-in-law and his buddies made a scene outside the courthouse."

Ran Su moistened his cracked lower lip with his tongue and said, "Take heart – it will work out."

In silence they continued walking. Lin was puzzled that Ran Su didn't ask more about the divorce. It seemed that the director had something else on his mind.

They sat down in the shade of an acacia tree. In the distance the gray school building appeared whitish in the blazing sun, most of its windows open and a dozen furled flags standing atop the slate-blue roof. To Lin's right, a group of students were pulling up grass on the edge of the soccer field. They were all squatting on their haunches, a few in topees but most of them bareheaded. They looked like a herd of grazing sheep, and their slow motion was almost invisible. "Stupid," Director Su said. "Why are they getting rid of all the grass? It will be dustier in the fall."

Lin smiled and handed him a cigarette.

Ran Su lit it and asked, "Lin, do you know of Vice-Commissar Wei of the Provincial Military Command?"

"I 've heard of him. "

"He's a well-educated man, an eloquent speaker, and has a remarkable memory for words."

"What happened to him?"

"He divorced his wife two months ago, and now he's looking for a fiancee."

Lin looked at him fixedly. Ran Su went on, "I want to tell you something, but you musn't lose your temper."

"Okay, I won't."

"Commissar Wei asked our hospital to recommend to him a suitable woman. I guess he wants to marry a nurse or a doctor because he needs a wife to take care of his health. He's in his fifties, and most girls here are too young for him, so the Party Committee has been considering Manna Wu as a candidate. Among all the old maids she's the best-looking." He paused to observe Lin's face, which showed little change. He went on, "But we haven't made the final decision yet. If you're seriously opposed to this, I may be able to say a word on your behalf when we discuss it at the next meeting."

Lin remained silent for a long while, his eyes fixed on a scarlet butterfly fluttering on a leaf of a baby fern. Nearby was a troop of large ants busy transporting the dried hulk of a beetle back toward an anthill four or five feet away. Lin plucked a blade of wild buckwheat and put it between his white teeth. A numb feeling stirred in his chest.

Ran Su said again, "Come on, Lin, tell me what you think."

"Does Manna know of this?"

"Yes. We talked to her when you were away. She said she'd consider it."

"She hasn't given you her answer yet?"

"No."

Lin spat the blade of buckwheat to the ground and said, "Perhaps this will do her good. If Commissar Wei agrees to marry her, that will be fine with me."

Director Su looked at him in amazement. After a pause he said, " You're a kindhearted man, Lin. Few men would give up their woman so willingly. Some would go berserk if such a thing happened to them."

Lin cleared his throat. "I haven't said everything yet. I have two conditions, if Commissar Wei really wants her."

"What are they?"

"First, he must raise her rank two rungs up. Second, he must promise to send her to college in the near future."

Ran Su looked astonished, then burst out into a roar of laughter. Lin was puzzled by his reaction and asked, "What are you laughing at? You think I'm crazy?"

"You are so earnest, my brother. I can see you really love her." Ran Su held his nose with his thumb and forefinger and blew it on the grass. He went on, "But who are you? You've forgotten you're neither her fiance nor her bridegroom. In fact, it's inappropriate for any one of us to tell Commissar Wei what to do. Even our Party Committee can't do that."

Lin knit his thick eyebrows without saying a word. Ran Su kept on, "Don't worry yourself about the conditions. If he marries Manna Wu, of course he'll try to have her promoted and improve her status. My question to you is whether you would let her go."

After long silence, Lin muttered as though to himself, "I'm a married man and shouldn't hold her back. It's entirely up to her. "

"Lin, you have a big heart."

They got up, dusting themselves off. By accident, Lin had sat on a yellow mushroom. Touching the wet spot on the seat of his pants, he turned around and asked Ran Su, "How big is the stain?"

"Just the size of an egg."

"Damn, is it very obvious?"

"No problem. If it was on the front, it would leave a small map there and make you more attractive to girls." Ran Su laughed.

"I don't know if Manna can wash it off," Lin muttered. Since the year before last Manna had been doing laundry for him, as most fiancees would do for their men.

They turned back to the barracks. Director Su asked Lin not to reveal their talk to Manna, because he didn't want her to feel he was interfering with her personal affairs. Lin promised he wouldn't say a word.

Manna talked with Lin about Commissar Wei three days later. They both believed this was an opportunity she shouldn't miss. The man was a top officer in the province – if her relationship with him developed successfully, he could arrange for her to be transferred to Harbin. That would open a bright future for her. Possibly the commissar could place her in a crash program for training doctors or in a college to earn a diploma.

In his heart Lin was quite upset about the possibility of losing Manna. He was also angry with the commissar, who could choose any woman simply because he had power and rank. As a man, he was as smart as that old bastard, probably more handsome. Why couldn't he keep Manna? The commissar must have plenty of women already, but he had only one woman. How true the saying was: A well-fed man can never feel a beggar's hunger pangs. Lin was unhappy with Manna too, who, in his eyes, seemed eager to jump at such an opportunity. He said to himself, See how she loves power. She can't wait to drop me.

At the same time, a feeling of relief had been settling in him, because this new development meant that he might not have to push for a divorce every summer – to stir up that hornet's nest in the countryside. If he tried to divorce Shuyu again, heaven knew what kind of tricks his brother-in-law would devise against him. If this state of affairs dragged on, sooner or later Bensheng would come to the hospital to nab him. A few days ago he had told Manna about the judge's demand, and she had said she was unsure whether Lin should give out her name to the court in the future.

Bad-tempered and sarcastic, he began to make fun of Manna whenever he could. At the end of their table tennis game one evening, seeing no one else in the room, Lin said to her, "When you become that big officer's wife, don't forget me, a small powerless doctor who used to play Ping-Pong with you every week. I'll appreciate that."

"For pity's sake, stop it!" she snapped, scowling.

"It's just a joke. "

"You think I enjoy going through this thing? I feel like I'm trying to sell myself."

"Don't take that to heart. I mean – "

"I hate it! You're so happy because finally you can get rid of me."

Her eyes were flashing with anger. She put her Double Happiness paddle into its green canvas case and zipped it up. Without another word she walked out of the room.

Lin was speechless and closed his eyes as though suffering a fit of vertigo. He regretted having made the remark, but he did not follow her out. He wiped the sweat off his face with his cap. After picking up his shirt and the other paddle and turning off the lights, he went back to his dormitory alone.

Later he promised Manna that he wouldn't banter about the subject again.

5

It happened that Commissar Wei was going to stay for a night at Muji City on his way to the border, where he was to negotiate with the Russians for the sovereign rights to a small fortress. The fortress, constructed by the Japanese Guandong Army in the 1930s, was intersected by the boundary line between China and the Soviet Union, and both countries now claimed it. Skirmishes had broken out when soldiers of both sides ran into each other at the fortress, but so far no guns had been fired. Instead, the patrols had used rocks, sticks, and steel whips to strike each other, because neither the Russians nor the Chinese wanted to open fire first – to be blamed for violating the cease-fire agreement.

Before departing for the border, Commissar Wei had the hospital informed that he would be delighted to meet Manna Wu on Tuesday evening at the army's hotel in Muji City. The hospital leaders told Manna to get ready as soon as possible, since it was already Monday.

She was granted leave the next day. Because she would have to wear her uniform, there wasn't much to prepare. All she did was take a hot bath in the bathhouse and lie in bed for almost the whole afternoon, trying to get some sleep. She felt nervous, as if she were going to sit for the exam on the history of international proletarian revolutions that the hospital gave its staff annually. Yet there was neither the pounding of the heart nor the tightening of the chest as she had experienced long ago with Mai Dong and Lin Kong.

Despite making an effort to rest, she could not set her mind at ease, because she didn't know how she would get downtown in the evening after the bus service had stopped. She could walk but it would take at least an hour, and she might be sweating on arrival at the hotel. She didn't know how to ride a bicycle. If only she had dared to ask the leaders to assign an automobile to drive her there. She regretted not having listened to Lin the previous summer when he had offered to teach her how to bicycle.

After dinner, she put on a pair of patent-leather sandals. They were the only thing she could add to the uniform, but the shoes did make her appear taller and gave a touch of elegance to her carriage. She remembered that when she was a little girl, she had often dreamed of wearing a flowered blouse, fluffy and flossy, which made her look like a butterfly fairy and enabled her to soar into the clouds whenever she ordered, "Fly." In her heart of hearts she still cared very much for colorful clothes, though she understood it was inappropriate to wear them at her age.

She was wondering whether she should set out on foot, wearing a pair of sneakers and carrying the sandals in her satchel so that she could wear them for the meeting. As she was brushing her teeth, a jeep with a large fog light on its front arrived. The leaders had made arrangements for her transportation, but they hadn't told her.

With Manna on board, the jeep rolled out of the front gate and turned townward. The army hotel was at the west end of Glory Street, an area that used to be a red-light district. It occupied a black brick building that fifty years ago had been a Japanese brothel whose owner wouldn't take Russian rubles, which were in circulation together with Chinese yuan at the time. He would charge a Chinese customer double the price, even though most of the prostitutes were Korean women pretending to be Japanese ladies. It was the rush hour, and the street was crowded with bicycles. At a crossroads a beefy policeman was shouting at the cyclers through a megaphone and wielding a white zebra-striped truncheon to direct the traffic. The smell of roast mutton and stewed turnip hovered in the air.

The jeep dropped Manna at the front entrance to the hotel and pulled away. For a moment she worried about how to return to the hospital, then she dismissed the thought, feeling certain she could walk back. She wasn't afraid of dark streets, though the sandals might not give her an easy time. A soldier at the front desk told her that the commissar was expecting her in Suite 6 on the second floor. She thanked him and turned to the stairs. Somehow she felt unusually calm.

An orderly answered the door and led her into the living room. She was struck by his young face, his upper lip not downy yet. He couldn't be older than sixteen. After pouring her a cup of jasmine tea, he said, "Commissar Wei will be with you in a minute." Then he quietly withdrew.

Sitting on a sofa with her legs crossed at the knees, she looked up at the whitewashed wall, on which hung a portrait of Chairman Mao – a tall, thirtyish man in a blue cotton robe and with an umbrella under his arm, trudging up a mountain trail toward a coal mine to mobilize workers. She looked around and noticed that the room was much smaller than a living room in a modern hotel. Then she heard a noise and turned. In came a tall man, smiling and nodding as he walked up to her.

"You must be Comrade Manna Wu," he said and stretched out his hand.

She stood up and said, "Yes." They shook hands; his palm was as soft as though gloved in silk.

He told her, "I'm Guohong Wei. Very happy to see you. Sit down please. "

The commissar's natural manners put her at ease. After he sat down, he began asking about her work and the city. He made no inquiries about her family and hometown. She realized that he must have read her file and knew she had grown up as an orphan. Wear ing a white shirt, he looked more like a professor than an officer, smiling kindly all the time. Half of his hair was gray, and his face was round and flabby, somewhat incongruous on his large, sturdy body. She noticed one of his eyes was larger than the other one. He reminded her of a gentle giant cat.

Though she dared not ask any questions and had to answer him all the while, she didn't feel uncomfortable with this man, who was amiable, without any superior airs. More amazing, he listened to her attentively and nodded his head now and then. Never had she met a man who was such a good listener. She couldn't help wondering why he and his wife had gotten divorced. It seemed he must have been a considerate husband.

He took out a gilt cigarette case from his pocket and asked, " May I?"

She was surprised because no man had ever been so polite to her. "Of course. I like the smell of tobacco." She told him the truth. In fact she herself would smoke one or two cigarettes when she was depressed. In her bedside cupboard there was always a pack, which would last a year.

"Do you smoke?" he asked.

"Not really."

"That means you smoke?"

"No…yes," she said, hesitating over her words. "I smoke only on some occasions." His cigarette gave off a minty, sweetish scent. She wondered what brand he was smoking.

He said, "I see, you smoke when you are bored?"

"Yes, a few times a year."

"What can you do for fun in the hospital?"

"I go to the movies sometimes and also read magazines."

"Do you like reading books?"

"I read books sometimes."

"What have you read lately?" He flicked the burned tip of the cigarette over an ashtray. His hand was large and pinkish, with swollen veins.

The question caught her off guard. For a moment she didn't know how to answer, because she hadn't read a book from cover to cover in recent years. Then she remembered those novels from Lin's library she had looked through long ago. She managed to reply, "I don't read a lot now, I'm too busy. But I used to read fiction."

"Such as?"

"Red Crag, And Quiet Flows the Don, Anna Karenina, The Vanguards… " She paused and regretted having blurted out those titles, particularly the two Russian novels, which were no longer popular and probably unhealthy or pernicious.

"Good, those are excellent books." His eyes brightened as a thrill surged in his voice. "I can see you have good taste. I wish more people read those great Russian novels nowadays. How I used to devour them when I was a young man."

She was pleased by his praise, but too shy to say more.

"Let me show you what I've been reading." He turned and drew a yellowish book from his leather briefcase. "Have you heard of Leaves of Grass?" He raised the book to display the front cover, on which a lean foreign man in a tilted hat stood with one arm akimbo, the hand almost invisible, while his other hand was in his trouser pocket, as though he were trying to conceal his hands.

"No, I've never heard of it. Who wrote it?"

"Walt Whitman, an American poet. This is a remarkable book of poetry, and the poems are so robust and brave they include everything. In a way they form a universe. I've read this book four times."

With amazement she looked at his animated face.

He realized he had gotten carried away by his enthusiasm and added, "Of course it was written last century when American capitalism was still developing. In fact the optimism in the poetry reflects the confidence and progress of the time. Nowadays no American poet can write like this. They have all degenerated in the rotten capitalist society, without the rising spirit anymore."

She was impressed by his knowledge and eloquence, although she didn't understand his view completely. "I'll go to the City Library and see if I can find a copy," she said.

"No, they may not have it. I got this copy twenty years ago, from the translator himself. He was my teacher at Nankai University when I was a student."

"You studied English?"

"No, I majored in philosophy and minored in Chinese literature. My teacher knew English well because he had been educated in a missionary school. He was a well-read man, a true scholar, but he died of pneumonia in i957. Perhaps it was good for him to die young. With his problematic family background, he could hardly have escaped becoming a target for political movements." The commissar's face turned grave and he kept his head low, as though recollecting something.

"So this is a rare book? " Manna said a moment later.

"Not exactly. " His face turned vivacious again. "In some university libraries you probably can find a copy, but it has been out of print since the early fifties."

"I see."

"How about this? I'll lend you the book for a month. After you read it, you tell me what you think of it. Would you like to do that?"

"Sure, I'll be glad to read it."

She took the book from him. Though she agreed, a shade of doubt came over her mind because she was uncertain whether she could understand the poems, not to mention report to him her appreciation of them. She might make a fool of herself.

As she was putting the book into her satchel, the orderly stepped in and announced, "The car is ready, sir."

"Would you like to go to the movies with us, Comrade Manna Wu?" asked the commissar.

Hesitating for a moment, she said, "Yes, I'll be happy to if I haven't seen it."

"Have you seen The Flower Girl?"

"No."

"Neither have I. It was made by North Korea. Come along with us, I've heard it's very good."

Together they went out. At the front entrance to the hotel, a young officer was waiting for them beside a cream-colored Volga sedan. Commissar Wei introduced him to Manna. "This is Comrade Geng Yang, from the Third Border Division."

"Very glad to meet you. I'm Manna Wu." She held out her hand.

As they were shaking hands, she almost cried out – the officer's hand was so powerful that it felt like a vise gripping her fingers, though he apparently didn't notice her wince. He was a stern-faced man, not very tall but of heavy build. He held his body straight, a dark-reddish belt cinching up his jacket. At his flank he wore a i959 pistol, which was much smaller than those earlier Russian models. Seven squat bullets were sheathed on the flap of his holster.

They all got into the car, including the orderly. The movie was to be shown in the Workers' Cultural Palace, which was just a mile away.

The theater was almost full. As they were walking to their seats, Manna noticed several of her colleagues sitting among the audience and turning their eyes toward her. Haiyan was there, talking in different directions. At the sight of Manna, she stood up and signaled that she should join her. Manna waved back and shook her head, reddening a little.

Before they reached their seats, a fat official in a blue Mao suit appeared and stretched out both hands to the commissar, saying in a booming voice, "How are you, Old Wei? How I miss you!"

Commissar Wei looked startled, then smiled. "I'm well. How about you, Old Zhao?" he said delightedly.

"Fine, fine," the man said.

"Please join us."

The two men were still holding each other's hands while walking toward Row 14, talking about the condition of the municipal Party secretary, who had just broken his leg on a fishing trip. Manna recognized the official, who was a vice-major of Muji City.

They all took their seats. On her right sat the commissar and the vice-mayor; on her left were seated Geng Yang and the orderly. A few minutes later the lights went off and the movie started. Commissar Wei dropped his half-smoked cigarette on the terrazzo floor and stamped it out.

The movie told a sad story about a poor Korean family. Strange to say, it had almost no plot. A little girl was eager to have a fresh chestnut, so she went under a large tree, on which two boys, whose father was the richest landowner in the village, were plucking nuts and throwing them down at the children in rags. One of the brothers aimed at the poor girl and hit her with a thorny nut, which injured her eyeball. Then her elder sister had to sell flowers on the streets to support the blind girl and the family. The sisters went on weeping from the beginning of the movie until the very end. Their tears had a tremendous impact on the audience. As the girls cried on screen, many people in the theater could not hold back their tears.

Manna heard people sobbing and sniveling around her. Their weeping was so contagious that soon almost everybody in the theater began to mist up. Manna couldn't keep her tears back, but she didn't raise her hand to wipe them, just letting them trickle down her face. On her right, Commissar Wei dabbed his eyes again and again with a handkerchief, while the vice-mayor lowered his head sobbing and at times gasping for breath. Commissar Wei squeezed her hand and whispered, "I'm really sorry about this."

"It's a good movie," she said earnestly.

Then she noticed that Geng Yang on her left didn't show any emotion. Unlike others, he was sitting stock-still, making no noise at all. Doesn't he feel sad? she wondered. Time and again, out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed his stony face, which looked distant and detached. He seemed aware of her observation and exhaled a sigh, which betrayed more impatience than sadness.

At long last the movie was over and all lights came on. Many people had red eyes, but nobody looked ashamed. Some were still wiping their faces and blowing their noses with grimy handkerchiefs or scraps of newspaper. "Comrade Manna Wu," the commissar said in a miserable voice, "I didn't know it was such a sad picture. Otherwise I wouldn't have invited you."

"It was good and I was very touched."

"I have to stay with Old Zhao for a while. Do you mind if I let Comrade Geng Yang take you back to the hospital?"

"No, not at all."

"Please write to me and tell me what you think of Leaves of Grass, will you?"

"Yes, I will. "

Commissar Wei shook her hand and said good-bye. He gave instructions to Geng Yang, then moved away to join the vice-mayor.

The Volga was waiting for them in front of the building. They got into the car, which started heading north toward the hospital. Because the night had grown quiet, Manna noticed how little noise the car made. Only a small whirring sound could be heard as they drove along the asphalt road partly sheltered by sycamore leaves. The chauffeur had also seen the movie just now, and he was so affected by it that he began talking to the two passengers. "What a sad picture!" he said.

Manna entered into conversation with him, but meanwhile Geng Yang, seated in the front, didn't say a word. She was curious and wondered why he was so cold. "Geng Yang, what did you think of the movie?" she asked.

"It was all right."

"So you were not moved by it?"

"Actually not."

"Why not? Everybody was crying in the theater. Why were you so calm?"

"I don't cry. I've seen things more terrible than that."

The chauffeur seemed irritated by his answer and said, "Tell us what you've seen. "

"Oh, I've seen a lot."

"Like what?"

"For instance, last fall we dug a large vegetable cellar. As we were laying bricks to build its wall, a landslip happened and buried twelve men in the pit. In less than a second they all disappeared from sight, buried right under my nose. When we dug them out, nine men had no breath left in them. Then their parents came to my battalion from different provinces. You should've seen how they cried their hearts out; it twisted my entrails to hear them. But I had to remain coolheaded in order to maintain discipline among my men. One by one I turned down the parents' unreasonable demands, even though they called me names and made terrible scenes. If you were on the front, you'd see deaths and injuries quite often and grow used to them. So many men die in accidents; a man's life is worth nothing. In military exercises there are casualties all the time. "

As he was talking, the car rolled to a stop. Both he and Manna got off, but instead of holding out her hand to him, she just waved good-bye.

She turned and walked away toward the dormitory house, feeling his eyes following her for a long time. Then came the sound of the car door being shut, and the Volga pulled away quietly. To some extent she found Geng Yang interesting; he was so manly and so different from the others.

6

Sitting at his desk, Lin kept saying to himself, I must see her today.

For a whole morning whenever he was not with a patient, his mind would wander to Manna's meeting with Commissar Wei. He was anxious, because he had heard horrible stories about the top officers' private lives and was afraid Manna might become a victim. There was this general of a field army, Commander Pengfan Hong, who had changed wives every three or four years because he was too savage in bed for a regular woman to last longer than that. Every one of his wives would fall ill within a year of the wedding and soon die of kidney disease. Again and again the Party arranged a new wife for him, but after the deaths of several women he was finally persuaded to marry a large Russian woman, the only one who remained unbroken after living with him for seven years. Lin was fearful, since he had been told that Commissar Wei was a bulky man.

From Ran Su he had heard that Commissar Wei had called the hospital the morning after meeting Manna, saying that he had been very pleased to see her in person, and that he would like to keep contact with her and see where the relationship would go. Also from Director Su, Lin had found out that the commissar had divorced his wife not because of any marital problem but because she had written a booklet criticizing some member in the Political Bureau in Beijing and had been turned into a counter-revolutionary. Now she was being reformed on a remote farm north of Tsitsi-har. Fortunately they had only one child, a daughter, who had already grown up and was a fledgling actress at Changchun Film Studio.

So Lin went to see Manna after lunch. He was relieved when she said the commissar was more like a scholar than a warrior. They were standing in the corridor of her dormitory, his hips against the windowsill. She seemed to be in a cheerful frame of mind and told him, "He's rather avuncular, a very cultured man."

"That's good. I was so worried."

"About what?"

"I was afraid he might take advantage of you. "

Behind him, a horsefly suddenly started rasping on the wire screen, struggling in vain to get outside.

"I'll be right back." Manna returned to her bedroom.

In no time she came back with a plastic flyswatter and a book. Slapping the horsefly twice, she killed it, the screen ringing feebly. She put the yellow swatter on the windowsill and said, "Lin, have you read Leaves of Grass?"

"No, I haven't. Is it a novel?"

"No, a book of poems."

"I've never heard of it. Why do you ask?"

She showed him the book. "Commissar Wei wants me to read it and report to him my understanding of it. I really don't know how to do that. I read a few pages this morning, but the poems didn't make sense to me."

"You must take the report seriously."

"Can you help me with it?"

"Well… "

"Please!"

He agreed to see what he could do and took the book back with him. That evening he looked through it. Then for three nights in a row he worked at the poems, which he enjoyed reading but couldn't understand assuredly.

In the meantime, a kind of serenity settled in him. He was somewhat bemused by his peace of mind, wondering why he no longer felt angry with Commissar Wei and why he didn't act like most men in love, who would try every means to keep their women. He remembered that two years ago there had been a murder case in an artillery regiment – a soldier blew up himself and his platoon commander with a grenade, because both of them had been running after the same girl, who was an announcer at a commune broadcasting station. After the murder, people had criticized the platoon leader instead of the soldier, who stood no chance against his rival; they said the officer ought to have expected the soldier's violent act. Now, though Manna might part from Lin for good, why didn't he feel any deep resentment? How come he was so benign and so large-hearted? True, he was afraid of having to try to divorce his wife again. Yet normally he should have felt more reluctant to let Manna go, shouldn't he?

His answer to the questions and doubts was that he was a better-educated man, reasonable and gentle, different from those animallike men driven by lust and selfishness.

He read Leaves of Grass once more, still unable to understand it well enough to write about it. To him, this was a bizarre, wild book of poetry that had so many bold lines about sexuality that it could be interpreted either as obscenity or as praise of human vitality. Moreover, the celebration of the poet's self seemed to verge on a kind of megalomania that ought to be condemned. But on the whole this must be a good, healthy book; otherwise the commissar wouldn't have let Manna read it.

After considering several aspects of the poetry for another day, he decided to avoid dealing with the subjects of sexuality and self-celebration, and instead focus on the symbol of grass and on those poems praising the working class, particularly the one called "A Song for Occupations." To his mind, Manna's response to the book didn't have to be long and comprehensive, but it should be thoughtful and to the point.

So he began to write the report at night. The part on the working class was not difficult, because there was a pattern to follow. He just listed what these brave and diligent people did in the poems and emphasized that workers and farmers were basically the same everywhere – whether they were Americans or Europeans or Chinese: they all loved working and had their own "strong and divine life. " But the symbol of grass was hard to elaborate, because he did not have a ready-prepared language for it and had to come up with his own ideas and sentences. He rewrote the passages about the symbol of grass three times. Finally he was satisfied with saying that the grass gathered the essence of heaven and earth, yin and yang, and the material and the spiritual, and that it unified the body and the soul, the living and the dead, celebrating the infinity and abundance of life. In brief, it was a very progressive symbol, charged with the proletarian spirit.

When he gave Manna the five pages he had ghostwritten, he told her to add something of her own. He also wanted to advise her to use good paper and write every word carefully in her best handwriting, but on second thought he refrained from saying anything, because she was not a little girl and understood the importance of this report.

Without delay she copied his essay verbatim in a six-page letter, and mailed it to Commissar Wei together with his book.

Then began the long wait.

Manna and Lin thought the commissar would answer the letter immediately, but three weeks passed and no word came from him. They were both anxious.

Meanwhile, Manna was aware that people began treating her differently. The hospital leaders became very considerate to her. Every now and then a nurse would fasten meaningful eyes on her, as if to say, "Lucky girl." Once Manna overheard a young woman whisper to others behind her back, "I don't see anything special in her." As for the officers' wives, one of them asked her, "When are you going to Harbin?" Another reminded her, "Don't forget to send us wedding candies." Some said about the commissar, "What a lucky old man." A few repeated, "Poor Lin."

On such an occasion Manna just kept silent, not knowing what to say. Their words unnerved her, because she had no idea how serious the commissar was about their relationship. Furthermore, even if he offered to marry her eventually, the marriage wouldn't be an ideal one, not based on love or made in her heart. As she had often told Lin, she felt Commissar Wei was more like an uncle than a boyfriend. Probably he was too old to be able to give her a baby. At times she wondered whether she should ask Lin to father a child with her before she left Muji, but she was too ashamed to mention this idea to him. Besides, she was sure he would not do it. It would be too great a risk for her as well – if Commissar Wei found out she was already pregnant, he might have her sent back to the hospital or demobilized.

The week after she mailed the book report, Manna began to learn how to cycle, which would be an indispensable skill if she lived in Harbin in the future. Neither she nor Lin owned a bicycle. Fortunately Lin's roommate Jin Tian had a Little Golden Deer, which stood idle in the bedroom because its owner had been away with a family planning team in the country for the summer. So they could use the bicycle, provided they didn't do any damage to it. There was another problem: they could not practice cycling outside the hospital grounds. But within the compound, in the presence of their comrades, it would be embarrassing for Manna to ride a bicycle with Lin holding its carrier constantly so as to keep her in balance. Few adults were unable to pedal. Manna couldn't only because she had grown up as an orphan, never having had an opportunity to learn.

She and Lin set about practicing on the sports ground at night- fall when they would be less visible. While she was pedaling unsteadily, he kept saying, "Look ahead. Don't think of the wheel."

"I can't," she cried.

"The wheel goes where your eyes go. Try to look at something faraway."

"Like this?"

"Yes, that's good."

She wasn't a slow learner. In just two hours, she could cycle zigzag by herself. But she could not get on or off the bicycle on her own, and he had to run to keep up with her all the time. Whenever she wanted to dismount, he had to bring the bicycle to a stop for her. Another trouble was that she often ran into objects she tried to avoid – once she hit the pole of the soccer goal, and another time a wooden box filled with dummy grenades. The drive chain slipped off several times; Lin managed to loop it back around the sprockets.

Though she was sweating copiously, Manna was having a wonderful time. She was so happy that at the end of the night she wanted to pedal back to the dormitory by herself.

Since it was already dark, Lin let her do that after telling her to be very careful. She cycled away on the dirt road while he followed, jogging and striding alternately. The night was smoky, full of the smell of charred wood. Moths and gnats were swarming around the street lamps, beyond which tree leaves had grown black. Manna turned her head and cried over her shoulder at Lin, "I can ride a bicycle now."

The moment Manna made a right turn, a woman in dark civilian clothes appeared ahead of her, walking in the same direction, her left hand holding a basin against her waist. Manna wanted to keep as clear of her as possible. Yet coming close to her, somehow the bicycle intractably headed for the woman. Manna tried to turn away, but the handlebars seemed to have their own will. In a flash the front wheel hit the woman from behind and got in between her legs. Manna gripped both brake levers and the bicycle leaped with a screech; the pedestrian was tossed up a little and landed on the front fender. Manna let go of the brakes. The woman, astride the front wheel, was carried along on the bicycle for two or three seconds, as if she were an acrobat riding a unicycle. "Oh Mama!" she cried. Her hand was still clutching the yellow basin containing a bundle of laundry and a cake of soap.

Then the bicycle clattered to the ground.

"Are you hurt, Aunt?" Manna asked, having picked herself up.

The woman, remaining on her feet, grumbled, "My goodness, were you aiming for my behind?"

"I 'm sorry. I didn't mean to – "

Suddenly Manna panicked as she recognized the woman was Director Su's wife. She didn't know what to say.

Lin arrived, saying between gasps, "Look at this, look at this! I told you not to ride…" He paused, as he too recognized the woman.

He said to Mrs. Su, "I'm terribly sorry. Are you injured?"

"I'm all right," the woman said, still patting her buttocks. "She was so accurate, man. Caught me right between the legs."

Despite trying hard to restrain herself, Manna burst out laughing. For a moment Mrs. Su and Lin were bewildered, then they both joined her in full-throated laughter. A bicycle whizzed by, its rider whistling loudly, and disappeared in the darkness with the bell still jingling. "Crazy dolt," said Lin under his breath.

Mrs. Su found herself bareheaded, without the hat she had been wearing, her hair still wet from the bathhouse. Lin walked back a few steps and retrieved the hat for her. It was made of black velvet, a standard piece of headgear for a country woman. Once put back on her head, it turned Mrs. Su into a withered crone, since her dark hair had all disappeared from sight. Surprised, Lin looked down at her feet, which were large and manly, in a pair of army sneakers.

They accompanied her all the way to Director Su's apartment, feeling lucky that Manna had not hit a different person. Mrs. Su complained that the bathhouse wouldn't allow her seven-year-old son to bathe with her in the women's area, and that as a result she had asked their neighbor to take the boy home. "What an odd rule. He's just a little kid," she muttered.

Though they were more careful the next evening, Manna rode into a weeping willow. A branch scraped her jaw and left a purple welt there. The bruise was so eye-catching that the following day many people knew what had happened; yet Manna didn't care, eager to continue to practice until she could bicycle with confidence on the streets downtown. But the bruise caught the attention of the hospital leaders, who were alarmed. Manna Wu now was a girlfriend of Commissar Wei. If anything bad happened to her, the top officer might hold them responsible. So they ordered Manna and Lin to stop the practice sessions in case she might hurt herself more.

Finally the hospital leaders heard from Commissar Wei's office. To their disappointment, the commissar had decided to discontinue his relationship with Manna. His aide explained on the phone that the leader had been impressed by her understanding and literary cultivation, but he was not satisfied with her handwriting. Commissar Wei had been a published author for twenty years, and at the moment he was preparing a book manuscript, so he needed someone whose handwriting was handsome to help him with secretarial work.

The truth was, as Ran Su heard afterward, that Commissar Wei had dated half a dozen women at the same time. After careful consideration, he had decided to marry a young lecturer in world history at Harbin University.

Lin was not very upset, although he regretted not having reminded Manna that she should be careful with her handwriting. To some extent he was pleased that she could remain with him again.

Instantly Manna became a new topic in the hospital. The word spread that because of her ugly handwriting she was jilted by the top officer. People began talking about her. What a useless woman she was. How come she had blown such a rare opportunity so carelessly? How could she let a caged bird fly away? Indeed, an old maid couldn't hold a man. Even the jeep driver who had driven Manna to the hotel would say, "She wasted our gas."

Manna was humiliated, though she knew she did not love the commissar. But what was more fearful than being surrounded by gossiping tongues? It seemed to her that most people were just eager to ridicule her, to get some fun out of her misfortune and suffering. She was so hurt she declared to Lin that he must never try to persuade her to look for another man. She said tearfully, "I won't shame myself like that again!"

Now, for better or worse, she preferred to wait for him. Probably it was already too late not to wait. So with rekindled passion and a heavier heart she returned to Lin.

7

The following spring Lin fell ill. Tuberculosis was diagnosed and he was quarantined in the hospital. Every afternoon, at about two, his face would glow with pink patches and his temperature would go up. He often trembled during the day, weak in the limbs. When coughing, he sometimes brought up phlegm with traces of blood in it. At night, sweat often soaked his underclothes. Because he had lost over twenty pounds, his Adam's apple stuck out and his cheekbones became prominent. He could not return to his home village that summer.

Since Shuyu was illiterate, he wrote to his brother-in-law Ben-sheng, saying he would not be coming home, having too much work to do in the hospital. He didn't tell him the truth for fear of making his wife worry.

The Department of Infectious Diseases was at the northeastern corner of the hospital, behind a tall cypress hedge. It occupied two brick buildings, one of which was mainly for tuberculous patients and the other for those suffering from hepatitis. In the space between the two buildings stood a brick house with a massive chimney. That was the kitchen. The quarantined patients ate better food than those in the regular wards.

Manna often came to see Lin in the evening. Because Lin was a doctor, the nurses in charge of the tuberculosis building didn't prevent him from going out. Lin and Manna would stroll around the sports ground, along a section of the brick wall that encircled the hospital, and sometimes by the guinea pigs' house, the wire-fenced kennels, the tofu mill, and the vegetable fields that were irrigated in the evening by water pumped out from a deep well. Ever since he got sick, she had been more considerate and spent more time with him, though she was unhappy at heart because he couldn't go home to divorce his wife this year. Meanwhile, most of the hospital leaders pretended they hadn't seen Lin and Manna walking together in the evenings; as long as the two of them didn't break the rules – staying within the compound and not making love – the leaders would leave them alone.

In early September the patient who had shared Lin's room left, and another patient, who had been transferred from another hospital, moved in. Lin liked the new arrival a lot. He was an officer in a border division, of medium height and with the build of a weight lifter. According to the gossip among the nurses, this man was known as a Tiger General despite his lower rank of battalion commander. It was said that he had once made his troops run seven miles in an hour with their full equipment – as a result, a dozen soldiers had fainted from dehydration and been hospitalized. For some years he had held the divisional championships in both bayonet charge and machine-gun marksmanship. Then he contracted tuberculosis; his right lung had a hole the size of a peanut kernel, which had almost healed when he came to share the room with Lin. On the very first day he said to Lin, "Heaven knows why I landed here, a total wreck, no use to anybody." He also told him that he was going to be discharged from the army soon.

The next evening Lin mentioned his new roommate to Manna.

"What's his name?" she asked.

"Geng Yang."

"Really? I think I know him. " She explained how she had met him the previous year when he came to Muji to accompany Commissar Wei to the border. "As I remember, he was very healthy, as rugged as a horse. How come he's here?"

"He has TB, but he's all right now."

"Maybe I should go say hello to him."

"Yes, why not?"

Then she regretted having suggested that, as a pang stung her heart and reminded her of the humiliation inflicted by Commissar Wei.

"You should go see him," Lin insisted.

It was getting more overcast, so they turned back to the building. The ground was dusty, as it hadn't rained for weeks. Dark clouds were gathering in the distance, blocking out the city's skyline; now and then a flashing fork zigzagged across the heavy nimbuses. As Manna and Lin were approaching the building, a peal of thunder rumbled in the south; then raindrops began pitter-pattering on the roofs and the aspen leaves. A line of waterfowl was drifting in the northwest toward the Songhua River, where sunlight was still visible. Because Lin shouldn't strain his lungs, he and Manna didn't run and merely hastened their footsteps toward the front entrance.

Lin's room, on the third floor, had a single window and pale-blue walls. Two beds and a pair of small cabinets almost filled the room. Geng Yang was peeling an apple when Lin and Manna arrived. At the sight of them, he stood up in surprise. "Aha, Manna Wu, I'm so happy to see you again."

He put down the apple and the jackknife, wiped his hands on a towel, and extended his hand, which she shook gingerly.

"How long have you been here?" she asked after they all sat down.

"Almost two weeks."

"Really? Why didn't we run into each other?"

"I don't know. Still, this is a small universe, isn't it?" He laughed and resumed peeling the apple. He looked thinner than the previous year, but still very robust. He now wore a thick mustache, which made his face look rather Mongolian. Manna noticed his sinewy hands and felt that they were not made to handle fruit.

Lin said to him, "I mentioned your name just now, and she said she knew you, so we came in to see you."

Geng Yang looked at Manna and then at Lin with a questioning smile. Lin said, "Oh, I forgot to mention Manna was my girlfriend. "

"You're a lucky man," he said firmly, then looked at her again. His eyes were doubtful, as though asking, Really? How about Commissar Wei?

She realized the meaning in his eyes, but without flinching she said, "How are you now?"

"I'm okay, almost cured." He stuck the knife into the peeled apple and handed it to her. "Have this please."

"Oh, I just had dinner." She hesitated for a second as she remembered he had tuberculosis. "Can we share? I can't eat the whole apple."

"All right." He cut it in two and gave Lin and her each a half.

The wind roared outside and the rain was falling, soon mixed with tiny hailstones. White pellets were jumping about on the window ledge and striking the panes. Geng Yang said, "God, what weather we have here! It hardly ever rains. But when it does, it shits and pisses without stopping like all the latrines in heaven have lost their bottoms."

Manna looked at Lin, who too seemed surprised by his roommate's language. She wanted to laugh but checked the impulse.

Then Geng Yang began telling them what the weather was like on the Russian border, where thunderstorms or showers were rare in summer. When it rained, it would drizzle for days on end and everywhere were mud and puddles. No vehicles could reach their barracks until at least a week later, so for days they had to eat mainly salted soybeans as vegetable. But the rainy season was short, as snow began in early October. By comparison, the short fall was the best season, when the dry weather would enable them to gather mush rooms, day lilies, tree ears, nuts, wild pears and grapes. Also, boars were fat before winter.

After finishing the apple, Manna had to leave for her night shift in the Medical Ward. She put on Lin's trench coat and went out into the torrential rain.

Because Lin was well read in chivalric novels, the two roommates often talked about legendary heroes, knights, swordsmen, beauties, kung fu masters. Sometimes Geng Yang would comment on the young nurses who worked in the building: this one walked like a married woman; that one looked so dainty; another was handsome but not pretty, her face was too manly; the tallest one, whose behind was too wide, wouldn't make you a good wife – she was a girl a man should play with only. On such occasions, Lin could say little because he didn't know how to talk about women. He couldn't help wondering why his roommate was so knowledgeable about female charms.

In the beginning Geng Yang mistook Manna for Lin's fiancee, since the word "girlfriend" could be understood in different ways, but later he came to know Lin had a wife in the countryside. "Boy, you're in trouble," he would say to him. "How can one horse pull two carts?"

Seeing him too shy to answer, Geng Yang would add, "You're such a lucky man. Tell me, which one of them is better?" He was winking at him.

Lin wouldn't talk to him about his wife and Manna, though Geng Yang pressed him. Tired of his questions, one morning Lin said to him, "Stop being so nosy. To tell you the truth, Manna and I never went to bed together. We're just friends."

"Well, does this mean she's still a virgin?" His broad eyes were squinting at Lin.

"Heavens, you're hopeless."

"Yes, I am hopeless where women are concerned. Tell me if she's a virgin. "

"She is. All right?"

"Doctor Kong, how could you be so sure? Did you check her out?"

"Stop it. Don't talk like this. "

"Okay, I believe you. No wonder she has a slim butt."

Despite being annoyed by his unrestrained way of talking, Lin was somehow fond of this man, who was so different from anyone he knew, straightforward and carefree. What is more, Geng Yang seemed to always speak his mind. As they got to know each other better, Lin began to reveal to him his predicament – he had tried to divorce his wife, but hadn't succeeded. He was eager to seek advice from him, because apparently Geng Yang was a man full of certainty and capable of decisive action, a real go-getter.

One afternoon, after a two-hour nap, Lin told Geng Yang that in the past summers he had asked his wife for a divorce, and she had agreed, but later she had changed her mind in the court, saying she still loved him.

"What did she want, do you know?" Geng Yang asked.

"Nothing. "

"Why did she say that after she had agreed?"

"I have no idea."

"There must've been some reason."

"I think my brother-in-law was behind everything. He's the source of the trouble." Lin was too ashamed to tell him about the scene outside the courthouse.

"If so, you should keep him out of it next time."

"How could I do that?"

"There must be a way." Geng Yang lifted a honey jar he used as his drinking glass and took a sip of tea.

Lin went on, "You know, in the villagers' eyes my wife is perfect. I can't do anything too awful."

"I know. " Geng Yang chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"Divorces are of course rare in the countryside. I heard of only one divorce in my hometown – the woman was caught in bed with the master of the elementary school by her husband. The husband took both the adulterer and adulteress to the commune administration. The militia broke the schoolmaster's leg, and he was jailed for three months. So the husband divorced his wife. If you're really concerned about losing face, you shouldn't try to divorce your wife."

"But I've already started it."

"To be honest, if I were you, I wouldn't think of leaving my family. I'd just keep Manna as my woman here. A man always has more needs, you know. " He grinned meaningfully.

"You mean I should have her as a mistress?"

"Good, you're learning fast."

Lin sighed and said, "I can't do that to her. It would hurt her badly. Also, it's illegal."

Geng Yang smiled thoughtfully. A trace of disdain crossed his face, which Lin didn't notice. Outside in the corridor, an orderly was wiping the floor, the mop knocking the baseboards with a rhythmic thumping.

"Forgive me for my candid words," Geng Yang said. "We're army men and shouldn't talk and think too much about a decision that has already been made. If you've decided to divorce your wife, you must carry it out by hook or by crook. What's the good of being a good man? You can't be nice to everybody, can you? In this case, damage is unavoidable. You have to choose which one of them to hurt."

"I can't. "

"To be honest, Lin, I don't think the divorce is that hard, but you've made it hard for yourself."

Lin sighed again. "I really don't know what to do."

"You've been shilly-shallying and made yourself miserable. I've handled hundreds of men for many years. I know your type. You're always afraid that people will call you a bad man. You strive to have a good heart. But what is a heart? Just a chunk of flesh that a dog can eat. Your problem originates in your own character, and you must first change yourself. Who said 'Character is fate'?"

"Beethoven?"

"Yes. You know so much, but you can't act decisively." He closed his eyes and recited another quotation. "'Materialist dialectics holds that external causes are merely the condition of change whereas internal causes are the basis of change.' Who said that?"

"Chairman Mao in On Contradiction. "

"See, you know everything, but nothing can make you steel yourself. If you really have the will to change, you can create the condition for change."

"But my case is not so simple."

"Chairman Mao also said, ' If you want to know the taste of a pear, you must change the pear by eating it yourself.' Trust me, my friend, sleep with Manna. If you find her good in bed, you'll be more determined to get a divorce. "

"No, that's crazy!"

Although the talk didn't help Lin find a solution, by chance Geng Yang confirmed to Manna that Lin was still trying to leave his wife. One evening the three of them ate muskmelons together, sitting on the stone curb at the front entrance to the hospital, where vendors from the suburban villages were selling fruits and other foods. Geng Yang would not chip in for the melons, insisting that since he wouldn't be able to attend their wedding after Lin divorced his wife, the future bride and groom ought to give him a treat in advance.

He said to Lin, "I know your wife will say yes in the court next year. Don't worry about that. I'll help you figure out a way to end your marriage. Be a generous bridegroom now."

Both Lin and Manna were pleased with this accidental revelation, which corroborated Lin's claim that he was still looking for a way to obtain a divorce. The previous year, when he showed Manna the article in the county newspaper about the attempted divorce, she had been heartbroken, wondering whether Lin would give up his effort altogether. After three months' consideration she had decided to let the judge have her name if necessary. Lin was touched by her determination and courage, saying he would do everything he could. Still, sometimes she couldn't help feeling that he had been using her – just to keep a woman around and make her work for him, although afterward she would check her thoughts and remind herself that he was a good-hearted man and wouldn't hurt her purposely. Now, she was so glad he had been seeking advice from his roommate that she bought a pound of strawberries from a fruit vendor.

"Help yourself," Manna said to Geng Yang pleasantly, and placed the paper bag containing the strawberries on the curb. "Your treat?" He grinned at her.

"Yes."

8

Lin's condition improved rapidly. His face returned to its normal paleness. After two months' treatment, the spot on the upper lobe of his left lung had shrunk to the size of an almond. The prognosis was that it would calcify soon. His recovery was mainly due to the newly invented herbal drug named Baibu, with which the hospital had treated some of its tuberculous patients. Whereas streptomycin remained more effective on most of the patients, some of them reacted to the herbal drug miraculously. To Lin's amazement, the injections he had received, along with cod-liver oil and vitamins, had cured his arthritis as well, although both sides of his hips were now covered with painful swellings, which gave him a slight limp.

Toward the end of November, when he had entirely recuperated, Lin was ordered to go to Shenyang to attend a program designed for officers, studying Marx's Theories of Surplus Value. He was eager to go, not because he was interested in the book but because his alma mater was in that city. He wanted to revisit some places he remembered.

Officially Geng Yang was already discharged from the army, but he was still waiting to be released from the hospital, which had to make sure his tuberculosis was fully cured. His departure for home was imminent. So a few days before Lin left for Shenyang, he and Manna decided to treat Geng Yang to dinner in a restaurant. They asked Ran Su for permission to go to town, which the commissar granted them, but the three of them had to be together outside the hospital.

They took a bus downtown. It was Sunday and the streets were crowded, vendors shouting and greasy smoke rising here and there on the sidewalks. They arrived at Four Seas Garden at about noon. After entering the restaurant, they climbed the dingy concrete stairs and found an octagonal table on the second floor, where diners were fewer and less noisy than those eating and drinking downstairs. Geng Yang removed his fur hat and hung it on the ear of an iron chair. So did Lin and Manna. The moment they sat down, a middle-aged waitress in a red apron came and took their orders. They would have a few cold dishes – pork head, pickled mushrooms, baby eggplants, and salted duck eggs. As for the entree they ordered dumplings stuffed with pork, dried shrimps, cabbage, and scallions. In spite of Manna's admonition, Geng Yang added a liter of stout.

First came the beer in a huge mug, fizzing faintly. Geng Yang lifted it up and said with a smile, "Cheers!" Lin and Manna raised their smaller mugs containing merely hot water.

"You don't want your lungs anymore?" Manna said to their guest as he swallowed a gulp.

Geng Yang grinned, displaying his square teeth. "My lungs are rotten already." He dashed a lot of chili oil onto his plate, while Lin and Manna spooned some mustard onto theirs, waiting for the dumplings. Outside, four sparrows perched on the window ledge, which was coated with soot that looked like rat droppings. The birds were chittering and shivering with the blasting horns of the automobiles passing on the street. One of them had a blind eye, whose corner carried a drop of frozen blood. It was snowing lightly, a few snowflakes swirling beyond a pair of power lines slanting across the window. The sky had grown overcast, shimmering a little. A male voice cried below the windows, "Fresh pike, just out of the river this morning." A woman chanted, "Fried dough twists, sweet and warm, fifteen fen apiece."

The cold dishes and the dumplings came together; for a moment steam obscured the tabletop. Lin was glad they didn't have to wait long. Geng Yang picked up a chunk of pork ear and put it into his mouth. Munching it, he said, "This is delicious!"

With chopsticks Lin and Manna raked a few dumplings onto their plates. They exchanged glances, and he realized she was thinking the same thought – this was the first time they had eaten together in a restaurant. A miserable emotion surged in him, but he remembered they had company and made an effort to take hold of himself. Meanwhile, Manna kept her eyes on the table, as though not daring to look at either man. Lin tried to be cheerful, urging their guest to eat to his heart's content. That was hardly necessary, since Geng Yang was helping himself comfortably.

Halfway through dinner, the guest claimed that it was too bad he wouldn't be able to drink their wedding wine. At the word "wedding," Lin and Manna fell silent, their faces gloomy.

"Come on," Geng Yang said, "don't be so sad. We're still alive and should enjoy ourselves."

"If only I knew what to do." Lin massaged his forehead with his fingertips while chewing a garlic leaf that served as garnish for the sliced pork head.

"Try again next year," Geng Yang said. "If I had a beautiful woman like Manna with me, I'd do anything. Cheer up, Lin, remember you're lucky and you should be grateful."

"Grateful for what?"

"For everything you have."

Lin shook his head while Manna's eyes were moving back and forth between the two men's faces.

A moment later she asked Geng Yang, "Can you give us some advice?"

"To tell you the truth, I don't like the idea of divorce. But if you two really want to live together as husband and wife, you'll have to go through this thing."

"We know that, but how can I bring about the divorce?" Lin asked, cutting a dumpling in half with his chopsticks.

"There must be a way. Even if a goose has an iron neck, it must have a spot where you can plunge a knife in."

"Tut-tut," Manna said, "don't brag. Say something specific."

"I'm not in your shoes. But one thing I know for sure: if you spend some money, it will work. Say, give Shuyu two thousand yuan."

"No, no, you don't understand," Lin said. "She doesn't want any money. She's a plain, simple-hearted woman."

"I don't believe that. If you spend money on the right person, I'm sure it will help. With money you can hire the devil to grind grain and cook dinner for you."

Neither Lin nor Manna said another word, surprised by his assertion.

Geng Yang continued, "Come on, don't look at me like I was a zombie or something. I can prove what I said is true." He pointed his chopsticks at Lin's chest. "For example, three years ago a regimental commander in my division had a young woman, a journalist from Beijing, detained in his barracks and wanted to spend a week with her. Then her colleagues sent a telegram to the Shenyang headquarters, and the officer was ordered to release the woman immediately. He had no choice but to let her go. Afterward we all thought this man would be either demoted or discharged. There was an internal report criticizing him severely, and we all believed he was a goner. Do you remember that bulletin?"

"Yes, I do," Lin said. "What happened to him?"

"Last year he was promoted to divisional chief of staff."

"How could that happen?" Lin and Manna asked in unison.

"Well, according to what I heard, he spent fifteen hundred yuan for two pairs of gold bracelets and presented them to our divisional commander and commissar, one pair for each, saying the bracelets were his hometown's local product. Everybody knew it was a damn lie, but it helped him. So he was promoted. You see, with money he reversed his fortune. If I had money, I'd have done something and would not have been discharged like this. Even though I may no longer be good enough to lead troops on the front, I can still be a useful officer at headquarters, at least more useful than many others. Don't you think?"

"Yes, of course," said Lin. With a spoon he removed the mashed garlic from within a pickled baby eggplant. He cut it in two and put a piece into his mouth.

For a minute Lin and Manna ate quietly, not knowing how to respond to their guest's advice.

Then Lin asked Geng Yang, "Can we do something for you before you leave?"

With that, they began talking about how to have Geng Yang's belongings shipped economically by rail. He had recently purchased some thick pine boards through a back-door deal, because timber was scarce and expensive in his hometown in Anhui Province. He had also bought thirty pounds of linden honey and six sheepskins, from which he would have a few overcoats made once he was home.

That evening Lin thought about Geng Yang's advice, which gradually began to make sense to him. Shuyu might not want money, but there were others who could be bought off, particularly his brother-in-law. No doubt his wife would listen to her brother. If Bensheng told her to accept a divorce, she might not go back on her word again. If so, the case surely wouldn't fall through the next summer. By now Lin was convinced that Bensheng was the key to a solution.

On second thought, he felt uncertain about his brother-in-law, who might just pocket the money without helping him. A bribe offered to such a man was always a dangerous investment. Two thousand yuan was a huge sum, more than the amount of his one and a half years' salary. It might be too much of a risk, although Bensheng was undoubtedly a greedy fellow who could sell his parents for that amount.

The more Lin reasoned, the more dubious he became. The next evening he went to the Medical Ward and found Manna alone in the office. At the sight of him, she stopped reading the daily record left by the nurses of the previous shift, and drew up a chair for him.

He explained to her what was on his mind. To his surprise, she asked calmly, "Do you have the money?"

"No, I only have six hundred in the bank. Don't you have some savings?"

"Yes, a little." She didn't tell him the amount, which he was eager to know.

"Maybe we can borrow some from others if we decide to do it," he said. "What do you think?"

After a pause, she said, "If you don't have the money, don't think about it." She frowned and her lips tightened. Apparently she must have thought this matter over as well; he was amazed by her definitive answer.

He realized she was unwilling to share the cost if they decided to spend the money. This realization daunted him. Never had he thought that he could save such an amount by himself, not to mention borrow the money and pay back the debt alone. He asked her, "So what should we do? Just wait?"

"I don't know," she said despairingly. "I'm afraid that giving Bensheng money will be like hitting a dog with a meatball – nothing will come back. But I thought you must've saved that much, haven't you?"

"No, I only have six hundred."

"If you had the money, we might think of doing it."

"So we shouldn't try?"

"No." She turned away and resumed checking the daily record.

Silence filled the room. He felt ashamed, because by custom it was the man who should pay all the expenses to take his bride home. It was unreasonable for him to ask her for help. Perhaps he should never have talked with her about this matter.

9

On Tuesday morning, Manna ran into Geng Yang at the bus stop in front of the hospital's theater. These days he had been busy packing up, sending his belongings to the train station, and paying farewell visits to his friends and fellow townsmen in the city. He told her, "I still have two of Lin's books with me. Can you come and take them back?"

"When will you be in?"

"Anytime this evening. I'll leave tomorrow afternoon."

She said she would come at around eight, since she worked the day shift now. He grinned, his eyes shining with a gleam which unnerved her slightly, as if some gnats were flying in his irises and yellowing the black. She turned and walked away, sure that he was observing her from behind. What hungry eyes he has, she thought.

Though often disturbed by Geng Yang's eyes, she rather liked him. In many ways he was more like a man to her, strong, straightforward, fearless, and even coarse. She wished that Lin could be a little more like him, or that the two men could exchange some of their traits so that both their characters would be more balanced. Lin was too much of a gentleman, good-tempered and studious, with little manly passion.

Lin had left for Shenyang City a week ago. After his departure, a feeling of peace had settled in Manna. She found herself not missing him very much. To some extent she enjoyed being alone, at least for a few weeks, during which she didn't need to wash laundry for Lin or have him on her mind constantly. But whenever she bickered with a colleague or something went awry at work, she wished Lin were around so that she could talk to him. This feeling made her realize that, in addition to forming a family and having children, a marriage might also provide an opportunity for a couple to talk and listen to each other, since they wouldn't dare speak their minds in public.

Having more time now, she registered in the hospital's night school to learn English, which had become popular after Richard Nixon's visit to China in i972. Recently it was said that a foreign language exam would be required for a nurse to be promoted to assistant doctor. Before the i96os Latin had been the only foreign language acceptable for the medical profession, but now both English and Japanese could fulfill the requirement. As a result, more than forty nurses enrolled for the night class. At the time English dictionaries were difficult to come by, and Haiyan helped Manna buy a pocket copy through a relation of hers in town. Haiyan had married the previous summer and was also a head nurse now. Because she was pregnant, she wouldn't be attending the night school. The class would start in a few days, on December 8. A woman lecturer from Muji Teachers College was to teach it.

In the evening, Manna set off for the Department of Infectious Diseases to fetch Lin's books. It was so cold that she could see the wisps of her breath. The moon was round and silvery, cleaving the clouds which were swaying like waves. Moonlight filtered through the naked branches and scattered dappled patches on the snow-covered ground. A few birds flew up in the darkness, their wings twanging and phosphorescent. Ahead of her, skeins of snow dust, blown up by the wind, were slithering and twisting. Under her feet the snow was crunchy while the wind was crying like a baby.

She raised the leatherette door curtain and entered the building, which was dim and quiet inside, as though deserted. Climbing the stairs, she couldn't help envying the nurses in charge of this building. Apparently they had fewer patients here and much less work to do.

Geng Yang, in gray pajamas, answered the door and let her in. The room reeked of alcohol, and the air was damp because of the steam rising from a wet jacket on the radiator beneath the window. The frosted panes were purplish against the night. She turned and looked at him; he grinned with bloodshot eyes as if to acknowledge his drunken state. His face was sallow in the fluorescent light, which rendered his cheeks concave and his mustache spiky. On the bed that Lin had once occupied lay an opened suitcase, partly filled with clothes and pillow towels of various colors – pink, orange, yellow, saffron. Obviously they were gifts from his men. Two thick novels, The Golden Broad Road and The Chronicle of the Red Flag, were on a bedside cabinet; next to the books stood a liquor bottle, short-necked and half empty. A picture of an ear of golden corn curved along the side of the bottle.

"You're drowning yourself in this stuff again?" she said, pointing at the liquor. She took off her fur hat and put it under her arm.

"He-he-he, " he chuckled. " Sit down, Manna. Let me ask you something." He went to the door and locked it.

"What?" she asked with a start, putting Lin's books into her satchel.

"Why are you so concerned about me?" His eyes were leering at her as he put both hands on her shoulders to make her sit down on the bed. She blushed and turned her head, facing the wall.

"Come on, look at me," he said. " Don't you have some good feelings about me?"

She was too flustered to reply, her heart throbbing. He went on, " Tell me, why did you buy me the strawberries?"

She was shocked. For a second she wanted to laugh, but she controlled herself.

Hearing no answer, he grasped her arm with his right hand. The grip was so forceful that she cried, "Take your hands off me!" Her hat dropped on the floor, but she couldn't bend down to pick it up.

"Listen to me, my little virgin. Am I not a better man than Lin Kong? Why are you so devoted to that sissy?"

"Who told you that about me?" she exclaimed. "Shameless, all men are shameless."

"Yes, I am a shameless man where pretty women are concerned."

"Geng Yang, you're drunk and out of your mind, or you wouldn't talk like this."

"No, my mind isn't drunk although my face is red. I know you are always interested in me. I saw that in your eyes. In fact I can smell that in a woman." He began coughing, covering his mouth with his palm. His breath was hot and sour.

"Let me go please."

"No, you can't."

"You're Lin's friend. How could you treat his fiancee this way? Don't you know the saying, 'A good man must never take liberties with his friend's wife'?"

He threw his head back and let out a laugh, which shook her heart. "How could a virgin be thought of as a wife?" he asked. "Do you believe Lin Kong will marry you? You aren't even his mistress, are you? He's no good and doesn't know how to handle a woman."

"Stop it. Let me go." She bent down and picked up her hat, but he grasped her shoulder and blocked her way.

He went on, "Wait, let me finish. He told me that he had never slept with you. How could he do that? I saw his dick when we bathed together in the bathhouse. I've wondered ever since if he's a bisexual. "

His last sentence threw her into a daze. She held out her hand and grasped the bedpost to support herself. Then she thought, This cannot be true. Lin had a baby with Shuyu and his Adam's apple always juts out. If he weren't normal, he couldn't have passed the recruitment physical. "Don't slander my man!" she cried out. "Let me go, or I'll scream."

Before she could say more, his large hand seized her throat. "Shut up!" he rasped. "If you shout again, I'll strangle you."

"Don't, don't hurt me. Geng Yang, you're a revolutionary officer and shouldn't do this. Please – "

"No, I'm not an officer anymore, so I don't care. Why should I? Now, you delivered yourself to me, didn't you? Didn't you come here of your own free will? Everybody will take you to be a slut."

"You told me to come and pick up the books!"

"How can you prove that?"

He forced her down on the bed and began kissing and licking her face and neck while she struggled, begged, and wept. She tried wriggling her legs loose, but they were gripped between his. His right hand held both of her wrists, while his free hand went beneath her shirt and grasped her right breast and then her left. "Ah, you smell so good, delicious, but your breasts are small, you know?" His nose kept thrusting into her hair, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

She tried pushing him away, but his body and his legs pinned her to the bed. Meanwhile, his left hand was unbuckling her belt and pulling down her pants. "Let go of me!" she groaned.

"My, you have a nice butt."

"Geng Yang, spare me just this once, please! I'll come back to you tomorrow, I promise. You can do anything you want with me. I'm not ready now. Please – " She choked, feeling dizzy, her temples pounding and sparks splashing in the air. His head looked twice the size it was.

"No. You think I don't know you're lying?" He pulled her over on her stomach and forcefully pressed his thumb on her spine at the small of her back. The pressure nearly made her black out. Her lower body turned numb; she felt injured. He spat on his fingertips and began rubbing her anal cleft. She tried to hold her legs tight, but they felt no longer her own. She was sobbing, unable to fight back, her arms flailing helplessly on the bed.

"Look at this." He grabbed her hair and pulled her head around. She had never expected that the male organ could be so large; his was like a donkey's and terrified her.

"See how big my cock is, " he said, panting. " It's like a rolling pin, no, it's a little mortar."

"Please, don't. Don't do this to me! Oh – "

He pushed her face down on the bed. "Shut up! My cock is designed to blast into an old virgin like you." As he was speaking, he pressed his organ into her, thrusting away like a dog.

She felt totally paralyzed, a numbing pain contracting her limbs, as though she were struggling for life in dark, freezing water. The white sheet turned black under her eyes, and a bloody taste sprang into her mouth. Suddenly rage flamed up in her chest and words gushed out of her throat. "I curse your whole clan! Damn you, you'll be childless. Your parents will drop dead next year."

"Say whatever you want. My parents are dead and I already have two sons."

"They'll die like homeless dogs!"

"Oh…ah…ah!" He came, still rocking on her.

"Damn you, your sons will be run over by trucks!"

He pushed her face into the bed and instantly her voice was smothered. She tried to twist her head aside so that she could breathe, but his hand nailed her neck down. Meanwhile his body was still wriggling on her. She was choking and had to use all her strength to breathe in a little air through the stinking sheet and cotton mattress.

As he stopped writhing, he released his grip of her neck. The moment he got up from her, she coughed and gasped, then resumed swearing.

"What did you say, bitch?" He pulled her up by the collar.

"You'll be the last of your father's line!" she said through her clenched teeth, her eyes flashing.

"Shut up!" He slapped her, and she fell on the bed again. Her hands were trembling, holding up her pants and buckling the belt.

He moved away and lay down on his back on the other bed and closed his eyes. "I've got what I wanted." He chuckled. "You can go tell anyone you want to. Let the leaders have me arrested or expelled from the Party. I don't care. They can punish me in any way they like. But think twice before you do that. Who will believe you?" He lit a cigarette, then grabbed the liquor bottle by its neck and took a gulp. "You know, if you weren't a virgin, I would've given you this." He waved the bottle, chuckling again. Then he began a hacking cough.

Without a word she snatched up her hat, unlocked the door and rushed out. As she was running toward the stairwell, the corridor echoed with the thud of her heavy boots. She stumbled at the landing but grasped the iron gooseneck of the handrail. She bolted down the stairs and reached the front entrance, where the black door curtain faced her like a huge mouth. She pushed it aside and dashed out. Once outside, she began having double vision. Houses and trees were swimming around, and the white road seemed like a cloud under her feet, while the wind was howling from behind as though chasing her. A hundred yards later she slipped and fell into the snow. Unable to get up, she threw a few handfuls of snow on her face and swallowed two mouthfuls. The icy water, which had a rusty flavor, went down her throat and stung her esophagus and stomach, but it cleared her head a little. She climbed to her feet and staggered back to the dormitory.

Fortunately none of her roommates was in, two having gone to the movies and one to work. Lying on her bed, Manna wept for half an hour while wondering what to do. She thought about reporting the rape to the leaders, but wondered if it was wise to do that. Will they believe me? she asked herself. I went to his room of my own accord. Won't they say I offered myself to him? For sure Geng Yang will deny he forced me. He'll say I tried to seduce him, then I won't be able to clear myself. I have no witness and can't prove my innocence, let alone my being a rape victim. Heavens, what should I do? If only Lin were here. No, he couldn't help me either. How I hate Lin! It was he who told that man I was a virgin. Without him, this would never have happened to me. Why did he make friends with that wolf?

Then the thought came that she should let Geng Yang's semen drain out of her in order to prevent pregnancy. She opened her pants and saw a wet, reddish patch on her panties, as large as a palm. She felt sure there must be more semen left in her, so she placed her washbasin on the floor and squatted over it, waiting for the remaining semen to drip out. Meanwhile she couldn't help sobbing. Her thighs, sprained, were aching and shaking, and not only her pants but the entire room smelled fishy. She felt as though all her clothes had been soaked with that man's semen, which seemed to be giving her stomach spasms. She started retching and moved her bottom aside to vomit into the basin.

Having squatted in the corner for almost twenty minutes, she was terrified to realize that not a drop of semen had drained out. She remembered the burning moment of his ejaculation, which had lasted for almost half a minute. Does this mean that his sperm has already gone deep into my uterus and found an ovum? she wondered. No, it can't be so quick, can it?

She stood up, put on a fresh pair of pajamas, and picked up the basin. With a towel over her shoulder, she went out to fetch some water. Once she was out of the bedroom, the cold air in the drafty corridor made her wince, and she felt her face prickling and clammy, as though it were swollen. This couldn't have been inflicted by the slap, which had landed on her jaw. Soon her entire face began smarting. Apparently Geng Yang's saliva was still stinging her skin. In the washroom, she emptied the basin and filled it with cold water, scrubbing her face with the towel again and again. She changed water three times, but the reek of his saliva seemed to cling to her skin. She remembered when she was a child, a yellow-banded caterpillar had once stung her neck; now the same kind of prickle was all over her face and throat.

Back in the bedroom, she took off her clothes and began washing herself in hopes of getting rid of the fishy odor and the remaining semen in her. The odor, however, didn't disappear; it was as if everything in the room were impregnated with it. She thought of burning her panties, but it occurred to her that they might be useful as evidence, so she wrapped them up in a shirt and put the bundle on the wooden board under her bed. As for the semen, even after she had jumped up and down thirty times, not a drop of it came out. She had no idea how much of it had entered her uterus. This uncertainty frightened her.

That night, not daring to arouse her roommates' suspicion, she covered her head with her quilt and wept noiselessly, unable to decide whether she should tell somebody about the rape. How she was longing to cry in a pair of warm, reliable arms and let out everything bottled up in her. Or if only she had had a house for herself, where she could cry to her heart's content and yell at the top of her lungs without being heard by others. But in this small room shared by four people, she kept her left hand around her throat all the while, until the weeping exhausted her and she fell asleep.

10

Manna's eyes became blue-lidded the next morning. The nurses in the Medical Ward asked her why she looked so pallid, and they advised her to take a day off. She told them that she was allergic to the fried beltfish they had eaten the day before, but she felt much better now. She was amazed by her ability to come up with such an answer. For the whole morning, whenever the telephone rang, she would rush to answer it. Despite having a tearing headache and intense hatred for Geng Yang, she was expecting to hear from him, because she fancied that he might apologize to her and blame alcohol for what had happened. It seemed to her that the whole thing wasn't over yet. If he called and begged her for forgiveness, she wouldn't forgive him, and instead she would give him a round of blood-curdling curses.

Not having heard from him by midday, she phoned the Department of Infectious Diseases and was told that Geng Yang had checked out early in the morning, that a new patient had just moved into the room, and that a satchel containing some books had been left in the nurses' office for her to pick up. This information brought a flood of tears from her. Evidently Geng Yang had planned the rape. But it was too late to have him detained, as he had left Muji and the crime scene had been transformed.

What should she do? She was at a loss.

In the afternoon she tried keeping herself busy by doing whatever she could – wiping clean all the tables and chairs in the office, fetching boiled water for some patients, sorting and listing the sacks of holiday gifts donated by civilians – shoe pads, tobacco pouches, notebooks, preserved fruits, woolen gloves, candies. Hard as she tried, she couldn't concentrate on anything. Geng Yang's ghostly face would thrust itself into her view from time to time. Lacking an appetite, she didn't eat dinner that evening.

She had no friend except for Haiyan. Unable to hold back her feelings any longer, she went the next evening to Haiyan's home, which was in a dormitory house at the east end of the hospital compound. Haiyan's husband, Honggan, was an officer in charge of recreational activities in the Propaganda Section. Haiyan had married him mainly because he could write and speak well; she had once revealed to Manna that she would never marry a doctor, who in her eyes was no more than a well-trained technician. She wanted an abler man.

"Come on in, Manna," Haiyan said, pleased to see her.

Her husband was clearing the dining table. At the sight of Manna, he nodded and turned off the radio. He was a tall man with a carbuncular face and two gold teeth. Although Haiyan was happy with her marriage, many people would comment behind her back, "A fresh rose is planted on a cowpat."

"Haiyan," Manna whispered, "I want to talk to you. This is something just between us, very personal."

Haiyan took her into the bedroom. "What is it?" she asked, placing both hands on her protruding belly. She had been pregnant for five months.

"I – I was raped."

"What?"

"I was raped by Geng Yang. "

"How did it happen?"

"He lured me into his room and raped me."

"Slow down. Say it clearly. What do you mean he lured you into his room?"

In a shaky voice Manna described how he had invited her to the ward and what he had done to her. Tears were trickling down her face. Now and then her tongue stuck out licking the tears from her upper lip.

Honggan cried from the other room, "Haiyan, I've left some hot water on the stove. If you want tea, you can use it. I'm leaving now."

"Where are you going?"

"To my office. "

"All right, come back early." She turned to Manna and asked, " Have you reported him to the Security Section?"

"No. I don't know what to do."

"Where's Geng Yang now?"

"He left for his home yesterday morning. Should I report it?"

"Let me think." Haiyan frowned, a slanting wrinkle on either side of her nose.

"I'm afraid nobody will believe me," Manna added, and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Manna, I think it may be too late now. It will be very hard to prove that you didn't have a date with him unless Geng Yang admits the crime himself. You know a date rape is rarely treated as a rape."

"Oh, what should I do?" She began sobbing. "So it was all my fault, wasn't it?"

"My dear, I'm not blaming you." Haiyan put her arm around Manna and said, "Come, don't treat yourself like you were in the wrong. This has happened to a lot of women. In fact, my elder sister was raped by a friend of hers some years ago, and she couldn't do anything about it. Some men are animals in human clothes."

"So I should keep quiet about this?"

"What else can you do?"

After a pause, Manna asked, "Do you think I should tell Lin?"

"Not right now. But you should tell him sometime in the future. He loves you and he'll understand. My sister told her husband about the rape. For a few months it was hard for him to accept it. You know, most men assume their brides are virgins. I'm sure Lin is different. He's a kind man, and married. Besides, you two have been together for so many years. He'll understand."

The advice sounded sensible to Manna. Before leaving, she asked her friend not to divulge the rape to anyone.

"Of course I won't breathe a word," Haiyan promised.

Manna was terribly depressed during the following days. Sometimes her face still felt clammy, smarting from Geng Yang's foul saliva. At night she prayed to the Lord of Heaven that she would have her next period on time in mid-December. What if I'm pregnant? she kept asking herself. For sure that will cause a scandal. What would I do then? Have an abortion? No, that's impossible. There has to be a male partner who signs all the papers for you, or else no hospital would perform the operation. But by signing the papers, the man would have to take the punishment and all the responsibilities. Who would do that? Even Lin might not be willing to help me that way.

Lin wouldn't be back for two months. What should she do if she was pregnant? This question almost drove her out of her mind. There was no way out. She decided that if she was pregnant, she would kill herself. In her office a line of stout, amber bottles sat inside the medicine cabinet, two of which contained soporific drugs. She began to pilfer five tablets from each bottle every day.

The night school had already started three days ago, but she was too distracted to go to the class. She sold the English dictionary to Yuying Du, a pharmacist who was also an old maid, and she told others that she had severe menstrual pains and had to rest in the evening.

A week later she received a letter from Lin, who told her that he was well in Shenyang and asked how she was getting along. She didn't write back immediately, still waiting for her period, which was already several days late.

At long last, on December 23, she began to feel the usual swelling in her breasts and the cramps in her abdomen. The next evening came the belated menstrual flow, which scared her – the period was so heavy she felt that some blood vessels might have broken in her. That bastard Geng Yang must have done her an internal injury.

11

Lin returned six weeks later, just before the February Spring Festival. He was surprised to find that Manna had aged so much. Her eyes had dimmed with a depth of sadness, and her lips were bloodless; the skin on her face, which looked grief-stricken most of the time, had become slack and dry, and two vertical creases grooved her forehead. Sometimes by the end of the day her hair was unkempt, but she didn't seem to care. She was often absentminded when he was talking with her, as though she took no interest in what he said. In her voice there were some edgy inflections he hadn't noticed before. Even her breathing seemed difficult, often dilating her nostrils. She reminded him of a pregnant woman tormented by morning sickness, miserable and about to break into tears.

Something must have happened to her during his absence. What was it? He asked her many times, but she would assure him that nothing was wrong and that she felt fine. In secret she had been taking a few kinds of herbal boluses, which she hoped would strengthen her body, nourish her yin, and help her recover.

Throughout the Spring Festival she eluded Lin, saying she was too exhausted to walk and wanted to be alone. A few times she shouted at night, startling her roommates, who jumped out of their beds and thought there was an emergency muster. She slept more now. During the holiday period she remained in bed more than fourteen hours a day.

However, two weeks after the festival she told Lin the truth. They were standing near a concrete electrical pole as she spoke to him. Overhead the power lines were swaying in the wind with a fierce whistle. Her words widened his eyes, riveted on her face. His chin kept shaking, his lips were quivering, and his complexion was dead pale. Beads of sweat appeared on his nose.

After she finished the story, he said between his teeth, "Beast! Such a beast!" His face was contorted, his left cheek twitching.

She wanted to say, "Remember, he was a friend of yours," but she repressed the impulse.

Strangely enough, Lin turned speechless as if lost in thought. His hands were twisting a pamphlet, a document he was supposed to read.

"Lin, I shouldn't have gone to his room. Can you forgive me?" she managed to ask. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other while her lace-up boots went on knocking each other to prevent her feet from freezing.

He didn't answer, as though he had not heard her question; his eyebrows furrowed. She thrust her hands into her jacket pockets and said again, "Lin, don't be too upset. It's all over and I'm on the mend now. The herbal pills really help."

A crosswind veered and threw up a few coils of coal dust, which were winding away into the snow-covered space between the smokestack and the bathhouse. A swarm of sparrows drifted past like a floating net and then disappeared in the leafless branches of a willow. An air gun cracked from the other side of the boiler house, and a flock of pigeons blasted into the air, scattering puffs of snow. They were the old boiler man's pet birds.

Still, Lin didn't say a word and looked more pensive. Anger was surging in Manna as she remembered that Lin had revealed to Geng Yang that she had been a virgin. She said almost in a yell, "So you think I'm a cheap woman now because I lost my virginity? Come on, speak. Tell me what's on your mind. Don't torture me like this. Remember, it was you who told him I was a virgin. You're a part of this too."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. If only I had known him better. I should've taken precautions after he said a heart was just a chunk of flesh." He touched his forehead with his palm and turned silent again.

She knew what he referred to, expecting him to say more, but again he fell wordless. His reticence unnerved her, because she felt he might have been incredulous. She was frightened by this thought. What if your own man doesn't believe you? she asked herself. What if he too thinks you are a slut? Her jaw began shivering as she was suddenly gripped by a desire to weep. But she restrained herself.

At last he seemed to recognize the resentment and suffering in her eyes. He said, "I was so dazed that I lost my presence of mind. Are you sure you're okay now?"

"Yes." Tears came to her eyes.

He wanted to hold her in his arms and comfort her, but they were in the presence of seven or eight soldiers, who were whistling deliberately while shoveling snow on the sidewalk thirty yards away. Remaining where he was, Lin managed to say, "I'm afraid you may need medical help. You look very ill, Manna."

"Where can I get that? I have to take care of myself."

"We should be able to figure out a way. Let me think about it. Can we talk it over this evening?"

"Sure, but don't worry about me. I'm really fine now."

He signaled with his eyes and hand that they should not stay within others' sight too long. They turned and went into the office building together.

For the rest of the afternoon, whenever free, Lin thought about the rape. The more he thought, the angrier he grew with himself. He realized that Geng Yang had taken advantage of his inability to develop his relationship with Manna. If he had married her, or if they had been engaged, that devil wouldn't have known so much about her or been given the opportunity to perpetrate the crime. Obviously his indecisiveness had opened the door to the wolf. Manna was right that he was responsible for the rape too, at least partially. How he hated himself! He was a man incapable of protecting his woman and irresolute in taking action. "Such a wimp!" he cursed himself in an undertone and clutched at his hair.

"What did you say?" asked the young doctor who shared the office with him.

"Oh, nothing."

For some reason Lin felt the case was not over yet. He worried about Manna's health, not only her physical condition but also her emotional state. But what should he do? He dared not even arrange a checkup for her, which would undoubtedly reveal the rape to the rest of the world. Even though he himself was a doctor, all he could do was get some antiphlogistic for Manna. He was unsure what kind of medical treatment a rape victim needed, because the textbooks he had studied in medical school had not touched on this topic. Somehow the more upset he felt about the situation, the more he resented Haiyan's role in covering up the rape without offering Manna any other help.

He and Manna had a talk in his office after dinner. He said to her, "I think we should tell Ran Su what happened."

"Why? You're crazy. That's equal to broadcasting the secret."

"I'm afraid we'd better let the leaders know before it's too late, or there will be more troubles waiting for us."

"What do you mean, Lin?"

"If they know of the case, at least you can officially get medical or psychological help when you need it. For us, this is more important than anything else. "

"I'm really well and have no need for any treatment."

"Please listen to me just once!"

"No, we can't do that. Let me tell you why: if people know of the rape, I'll become cheaper in everyone's eyes, and I'll belong to a different category, lower than a widow."

Lin sighed, but he didn't give up. He continued, "There's another reason that I believe we should let Ran Su know."

"What's that?"

"You told Haiyan Niu everything. She's not that reliable. We should take measures against a leak now."

"She promised me she wouldn't tell anybody."

"I dare not trust her. "

"Why?"

"I can't say exactly; just by instinct I know we dare not count on her promise. You've put too much in her hands. If this gets out, you'll have a personal catastrophe. People can kill you with their tongues. It will be better to report it to Ran Su now."

She began weeping, her face buried in her arms on the edge of his desk. Softening, he said, "Don't cry, dear. If you don't want to let others know, I won't tell anybody."

"I want to keep it secret. "

"All right, but you should talk to Haiyan and remind her of her promise."

"I ' ll do that tomorrow. "

After their talk, Lin became more considerate to Manna. He bought her fruits – oranges, frozen pears, sugar-coated hawthorns, and dried persimmons. From a medicinal herb store he bought a small fork of deer antler, which cost him fifty-two yuan, over forty percent of his monthly salary. Though Manna couldn't use the antler, because it would generate too much yang in her body, it pleased her. She was grateful, and her heart began absorbing warmth again. At last she felt she could leave the rape behind; she was on her way to recovery.

12

One morning in April, Manna ran into Ran Su at the entrance to the lab building. Although he greeted her kindly, his heavy-lidded eyes were observing her oddly, as if sizing her up. She turned to face him, and his eyes slipped away. Then he turned his head back and gave a smile, which was so forced that it resembled a grimace.

Suddenly it flashed through her mind that Ran Su must have found out about the rape. A flush rose on her face as a pang seized her heart and rendered her speechless. She was sure of her conjecture and later told Lin about it. He said she might be wrong, though he was agitated too. He swore he had never revealed the secret to anyone.

She guessed right. The next afternoon, as she and Lin were going to the hot-water house, each holding a thermos bottle, they saw Mrs. Su coming from the opposite direction. Passing them, the skinny little woman spat to the ground and said out loud, "Self-delivery." She wore black clothes and a mink hat, and one of her eyes was swollen. Both Manna and Lin, despite being shocked, pretended they had heard nothing. When the woman was out of earshot, Manna began cursing Ran Su. But Lin was certain that it wasn't Ran Su who had told his wife about the rape, because Mrs. Su was deranged and unreliable and her husband seldom talked to her. It must have been those officers' wives, who always enjoyed gossiping, that had spread the word.

From then on, whenever the little woman saw Manna she would call her "Self-delivery" or shout, "Poked by a man!" The curses often made Manna feel as though she had lost a limb or a vital organ and become handicapped. How she regretted having divulged the secret to Haiyan. She hated the telltale's bone marrow. If only she had listened to Lin and reported the rape to Ran Su two months ago.

Lin was deeply disappointed by the leak and felt ashamed as well, because sometimes the little woman would call him "a green-hatted cuckold" in front of others. Ran Su was a friend of his, but there was no way Lin could ask him to dissuade his wife from calling Manna and himself names. Mrs. Su had suffered from dementia since the Sus lost their only child the summer before. The boy had drowned in the Songhua River one afternoon when he went to the bank with his pals to net tiny water insects for his goldfish. It was rumored that Ran Su had to give his wife all the money left in his wallet every night; otherwise she would curse his ancestors without stopping, or smash dishes and bowls, or wail like a child, or turn on him with a steel poker. As a result, he always kept banknotes inside the plastic cover of a diary. Because he was so good-tempered and had never thought of sending his demented wife to a mental asylum, Ran Su had gained a lot of respect and sympathy in the hospital. People said he deserved his recent promotion. He was the vice-commissar of the hospital now.

Naturally Manna was furious with Haiyan and would not speak to her. She didn't go and see her baby, a nine-pound boy, when she heard of the birth. Haiyan, after her maternity leave was over, tried to explain to Manna how the secret had come out. But whenever Haiyan got close to her, Manna would move away and would not listen to the tattletale. Having no way to approach her, Haiyan went to Lin one afternoon and made him listen to her story.

"I never meant to tell on Manna," she said, sitting before Lin in his office. "You know, a couple in bed will chat about anything, especially when you are bored. I told Honggan not to breathe a word about Manna to anyone. He promised he wouldn't, but on Spring Festival Eve he got drunk with his buddies and spilled it out. I went to their homes and tried to stop them from spreading the word, but it got out of hand. Lin, I never meant to hurt Manna. She's been my best friend for many years, why should I sell her out? What could I gain from doing that? Oh, this makes me feel like hell." She looked tearful.

"I understand," he said damply.

"You know how I hate that ass of a husband. I almost cracked his skull with a broomstick when I found out what he had done to Manna. If you don't believe me, go ask him."

"I believe you, but it's too late."

"Oh, how can I make it up to Manna?"

"I don't see there's a way now."

"Can you tell her I am very, very sorry?"

"I can do that."

He smelled a soapy odor exuding from Haiyan. After she left, he wondered if she had just washed diapers before coming to his office.

Though he passed Haiyan's explanation and apology on to Manna, Manna was inconsolable and unforgiving. And she had her reason for being so. After the rape became known to everyone, people at the hospital began to treat Lin and her like husband and wife. Their food coupons and salaries sometimes arrived at his desk together at the end of a month; without second thoughts the soldier in charge of mail would leave with Manna letters for Lin; by accident, a clerk once sent them a booklet on family planning, which should have gone to married couples only. Some new nurses would mention Dr. Kong to Manna as if he were her husband, though they would feel embarrassed later when she told them that she was unmarried. All these occurrences hurt her, but she had grown timid now, not daring to fight back or quarrel with others as often as before. She was afraid that anybody might shame her just by referring to the rape.

At last it was clear that she had no choice but to wait for Lin wholeheartedly, as though the two of them had been predestined to be inseparable.

Thus continued their long "courtship," which gradually became steady and uneventful during the following years. Summer after summer, Lin and Shuyu went to the divorce court in Wujia Town and returned home as man and wife. Year after year, he and Manna hoped that the requirement of eighteen years' separation before he could end his marriage would be revised or revoked, but the rule remained intact. Ran Su, after Lin had bought him a used copy of Around the World in Eighty Days, a rare book at the time, proposed to the Party Committee to have the rule loosened a little, but the majority of the leaders were opposed to the idea, uncertain about the repercussions. As time slipped by, people grew oblivious to the origin of the rule, as though it were a sacred decree whose authenticity no one would dare question. Year after year, more gray hair appeared on Lin's and Manna's heads; their bodies grew thicker and their limbs heavier; more little wrinkles marked their faces. But Shuyu remained almost the same, no longer looking like an old aunt of Lin's but more like an elder sister.

During these years, most of Lin's and Manna's colleagues were promoted to higher positions or left the army, but the two of them remained in the same offices doing the same work, although they got raises. Ran Su, after another promotion, became the commissar of the hospital in i98o. Lin heard that his cousin Liang Meng had married a model worker, a nationally known operator who had memorized over eleven thousand telephone numbers. In i98i Com missar Wei died in prison, where he had been incarcerated for his connections with the Gang of Four.

Finally, in i984, Lin asked Shuyu to come to the hospital. This time he would take her to People's Court in Muji City. After eighteen years' separation, he was going to divorce her, with or without her consent.