YangHuang.com: Yang Huang's novel, Living Treasures

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Yang's fourth novel, Living Treasures, is a Bellwether Prize finalist in 2008. Author Barbara Kingsolver praised the book to be socially responsible and engaged literature. Living Treasures was inspired by the events of Tiananmen Square Massacre on June 4, 1989. Gu Bao is a first-year law student at Nanjing University with a soldier boyfriend Tong. When she gets pregnant, she goes to a mountain village in Sichuan to have an abortion. There she befriends a village woman named Orchid, who hides in a cave in order to have a second baby despite the stringent One-Child-Policy. Bao takes the place of Orchid who faces the forced sterilization. Her personal tragedy is a metaphor of the Tiananmen Square massacre, as students were brutally crushed by the army. It is also a tribute to the blind lawyer Chen Guangcheng. He filed a law suit against provincial officials for forcing women to have late-term abortions and sterilizations. In 2006 Chen was named by TIME magazine as one of the world’s 100 most influential people. He was arrested shortly after and has been in prison ever since. In the aftermath of the Tiananmen Square massacre, Chinese people had to use new strategies to continue their fight for democracy. Bao is crucified but she does not fail. She succeeds in saving Orchid’s baby. Democracy doesn’t die, and the child is the hope. Bao will become a lawyer to protect the weak and innocent and take down one bully at a time. Such resistance against brutal oppression requires courage, wisdom, commitment, integrity, and personal sacrifice. She inherits the spirit of the student movement to continue the fight for basic human rights. The slow and difficult grassroots work may eventually bring democracy to China.

Living Treasures Prologue December, 1976 Gu Bao remembered the time when she feared of disaster. At five years old, she lived with her grandparents in Crystal Village in Pingwu County, Sichuan Province. Bamboo flowered in late spring and died over large areas of the Min Mountains. More than a hundred giant pandas died of starvation. In August a magnitude 7.2 earthquake struck. The mountains bounded like frightened musk deer, toppling forests and crumbling cliffs. One village was buried alive by a landslide; people, animals, houses, and fields were wiped from the face of mountain. Fortunately her grandparents’ house withstood the earthquake. The wooden house was pliable and didn’t crumble like a concrete building. Still, they took safety precautions against more earthquakes. During the day her grandma cooked meals, and they ate at the house. At night they slept in a shed, propped up by bamboo poles. Its walls were made of straw and bamboo mats. Asphalt felt and plastic sheets formed the roof. Bricks held down the plastic and felted sheets to keep the wind from blowing them away. When it rained, Grandma put out basins and pots to catch water leaking from the roof. At night rats and mice battled on the roof. Every so often a rat dropped to the ground or fell into their bed. In spite of daily hardships there were unexpected rewards. One day Uncle Wang, a militia leader, brought a dead black bear to the house. The bear had been killed by the earthquake. Her grandpa skinned the bear and tanned the pelt into an oversize mattress for Uncle Wang. In return Uncle Wang gave them the bear’s heart, which made an unusual meat dish for the family. In September, the village radio broadcast the dirges. Chairman Mao Zedong had passed away at age eighty-two. The news was like a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. For decades people across China had shouted the slogan, “Long live Chairman Mao! May he live to be a thousand, a million years old! May he live for an eternity!” But Chairman Mao had perished like an ordinary man. Bao saw her grandparents weep, and so did Uncle Wang and other militiamen. Their grief filled her with dread. Some days Bao was afraid to leave the house; if the sky should fall, who would hold it up above her head, now that Chairman Mao was gone? He had founded the People’s Republic of China; all citizens were his children. Suddenly, eight hundred million Chinese people were orphans. * * * One day Bao woke up at dawn to pee. It was dim inside the earthquake shed. Grandma slept beside Bao with her hands cupped together. Grandpa lay at the foot of the bed, his snores rising and falling like bellows hard at work. Now and then a sharp whistle came from his nostrils and trailed off into labored grunts. Bao crawled out of the bed and slid on her cotton shoes. Making her way to the night pot, she heard leaves rustle and a stem crack outside. Was it a deer? She pulled back the straw mat door, lined with a thick quilt covered in plastic sheets. At first she saw only a blur. The hill slope beyond the fields was covered in snow. The ridge lunged upward like a porcupine’s back bristling with fir and birch, and fog draped the hillside. In the backyard a large animal lumbered along, swaying from side to side, its head bent low. It looked like a bear, with black and white markings on its body. It was a giant panda--a national treasure! Her father had shown Bao a picture in the newspaper when Premier Zhou Enlai gave a pair of pandas to President Nixon of the United States. Bao opened the door wide. The cold draft made her teeth chatter. She saw a wad of grayish flesh clutched in the panda’s mouth. The flesh moved and let out a screech like a banshee. Bao slammed the door shut. She stood in semi-darkness, trembling and debating whether she should go back to bed. A moment later, she slid a stool behind the straw mat to keep the door open only a crack. In front of their house the panda nuzzled the gray thing on its arm, neck, and head. Covered with silvery hairs, it looked like a big rat, yet Bao knew it was a cub. The panda scooped the cub into her arms and cradled it, bit it lightly on the leg as if in play. The cub squirmed and patted its mother’s broad, hairy face, as she licked its belly and head. Finally she released the cub, so it slid down her sloping stomach into the hay. Bao hurried to the night pot to relieve herself and then returned to the door. The panda sat in front of the chicken coop and reached for the tin basin. The leftover food had frozen. A hen hopped out and made go-go-go calls. It was Grandma’s favorite, Cauliflower Tail. The panda swiped it with a paw. Cauliflower Tail fell to the ground, flapping its wings. The panda clutched its neck and swung it from side to side. Cauliflower Tail spread her wings weakly. The panda started to devour her, tearing apart her flesh with a ripping sound. Should Bao wake up Grandpa? He kept a gun in the toolshed; she had never seen him use it. Grandma would be upset that Cauliflower Tail was dead. Bao hadn’t stopped the killing when she had a chance. Now she wanted the panda to eat Cauliflower Tail. After all, the panda was a national treasure, and what better use was a dead hen than to satisfy a panda’s hunger? Grandpa huffed and puffed like a locomotive. When Bao peered outside again, the panda sat against the coop fence. Nestling against her chest, the cub appeared to be nursing. “Are you up, Bao?” Grandma said. Grandpa’s snoring paused and then resumed, rhythmic and loud as usual. “I got up to pee,” Bao whispered. The panda propped herself up and bit the neck skin of her cub. She moved quickly out of the yard and headed into the woods. Wagging her fat tail, she broke into a trot. In front of the chicken coop there were blood stains and feathers but no bones or flesh of the hen. “A weasel got Cauliflower Tail, Grandma.” Bao pulled out the stool. The door swung shut and kept the wind out. Grandma fastened the frog closures of her cotton coat. “Did it leave us the dead hen?” “There’s just blood and feathers left.” “What a year, even weasels are getting meaner.” Grandma grabbed a long-handled broom. “We have to get a dog to guard the coop.” She opened the door and went outside, holding up the broom stick. If a weasel slipped out, she would beat it to a pulp. Bao peered at the mountain slope in the distance. Although pandas lived in the Min Mountains, no villager had ever seen one. Black stones protruded from the snow-covered slope. It would be hard to spot a black-and-white panda. Besides, Grandma’s eyes were poor; she had ruined them by embroidering night after night in the dim light of an oil lamp. Even then, Bao felt touched by fate that she, rather than anyone else, had seen the pandas. She breathed the cold mountain air on that almost unreal, yet vivid winter morning. Snow and icicles hung on boughs and logs. When a riffle of wind stirred the branches, the snow drifted down in crystal veils, adding a ghostlike radiance to the forest. “The damned thing has big paws like a bear!” Grandma said. “Next time it steals our hen, your grandpa will shoot it!” Bao was glad she had lied. If people knew that a giant panda ate a chicken, would it still be revered? Starvation drove pandas wild, as a famine did humans. People in another part of Sichuan ate bark, rats, even dead babies. If the panda hadn’t gotten Cauliflower Tail, would she have attacked Bao and her grandparents? Perhaps they had much to thank Cauliflower Tail for. Grandma came inside and put away the broom. Bao sighed with relief. The panda mother had milk to nurse. At least her cub wouldn’t become an orphan. Bao thought of her own parents. When she visited them every summer, they always marveled at how big she’d grown and what good manners she had. For two months they had lived together as a family. Her father worked on the labor farm, while her mother stayed home and taught Bao phrases like, “East is red,” “The people’s commune is good,” “Parents are dear, but dearer is Chairman Mao.” Of all her mother’s lessons, Bao most enjoyed a song called “Finding a Friend.” At night she made her parents sit on stools, while she leapt about and sang in turn, “I’m looking for a friend, a good friend.” She clapped her hands to catch their attention. “I’ve looked everywhere. Finally I find a little friend.” She tapped her feet. Her father looked interested, although he had heard the song before. “I take a bow and smile at her. We shake hands and become friends.” She clasped her father’s hand and her mother’s, too. “Now you’re my good friend.” When the three of them had their arms around each other, she could then stop missing her grandparents. On that desolate winter morning when she was five years old, Bao made up her mind not to tell anyone about seeing the panda and her cub. She longed for her parents, who wouldn’t be with her until next summer. Now that Chairman Mao had died, what would happen to Bao and her family? The series of disasters in 1976 instilled a sense of doom in her young heart. To ward off her fright and keep her family safe, she decided to say a potent prayer. “Long live Chairman Mao!” Shifting on the bed, Grandpa stopped snoring. He seemed to be listening. Bao raised her voice. “May he live to be a thousand, a million years old! May he live for an eternity!” She pumped her fist in the air, like a little Red Guard. Chapter 1 June 2, 1989 It was a basic hot plate without a power-off button. Gu Bao had to unplug the electric cord to shut it off. She set down the enamel pot on the large rectangular desk that separated the bunk beds, four on each side. The lid clinked softly as hot steam rose. The aroma of the soup, made with a live carp, filled the dorm’s eight by six meter dimensions, where eight freshman girls lived. She grinned at Lily, her best friend seated opposite her at the desk. They made the soup together, although neither of them cooked at home. Cooking in the dorm at Nanjing University was prohibited. Two months ago Bao and her roommates had been fined five yuan for blowing the fuse. Lily, being the most literary among them, had written a self-criticism on their behalf. After splitting the cost the girls were pleased with the deal. For seventy cents per person they could eat hot noodles and boiled eggs after the canteen was closed. There was no shame in “stealing electricity,” although it would be nice not to be caught. Nowadays it was safe to cook. Less than a third of students lived in the dorm, while the rest had answered to the empty-campus movement. Hongzhi came from Qinghua University in Beijing, and Lily was in a fluster about his visit. So the girls bought meatballs, tofu, and vegetable dishes from the canteen and a live carp to make a soup. Bao called her mother for a recipe. Lily gathered the ingredients: ginger, vegetable oil, cooking wine, green scallion, salt, and pepper. Bao had her boyfriend Tong kill the carp and clean it. She sprinkled on shredded ginger and green scallion after the water boiled. Lily opened the lid repeatedly to check on the broth, which thickened into milky white chowder. Tong pulled out a bottle of wine from his green army bag. “Made from Xinjiang grapes, bribery for my father.” “What if he finds it missing?” Bao said. Her relationship with Tong wasn’t public. Dating was strictly prohibited on campus. Then again, like stealing electricity, it was more a rule on paper rather than in practice. Bao was afraid to get caught. “I’ll say I shared it with my cadets. Dad will praise me for kissing up.” Tong trained at Nanjing Army Commander College as an officer. At twenty-two years old, he seemed like an older brother to the freshman students. He poured the wine into the enamel mugs printed with Nanjing University logos. Hongzhi drank up and wagged his head like a scholar. “In stolen wine there is truth.” Hongzhi was thin with a prominent Adam’s apple and a smooth, hairless face. One side of his face was darker than the other. He had taken part in the hunger strike for four days, sleeping in Tiananmen Square. Lily said he needed extra nourishment. Tong replenished Hongzhi’s mug and then raised his cup toward Bao. “To beautiful girls.” Bao felt the heat in her cheeks. She enjoyed the flattery, especially by someone as handsome as Tong. He sat tall, his back straight as a wall. His face was lean, his cheeks slightly shadowed. He was a two-shaves-a-day man. His deep-set eyes glittered with interest and affection. He smiled often, as if at himself. His soft-spoken voice was quietly assured. He clinked mugs with Bao. “Drink up.” His gaze was bold and slightly lewd. She gulped down the wine, ripe and mellow, and it went straight to her head. She felt giddy and unabashed. She wanted to be the object of Tong’s desire. “Are we forgetting something?” Lily lifted the lid from the enamel pot. “Beautiful, like my mom’s cooking.” Hongzhi rubbed his palms together. Lily scooped a little soup in Hongzhi’s bowl and raised the ladle. Bao shook her head, so Lily dug in next. Loose curls dangled from her head like overgrown fleece. Bao remembered when Lily had left the dorm a month ago to get a haircut and a new perm; instead, she wound up donating the money to the student union and joining a citywide march that demanded the freedom of the press. Lily had a square face that looked masculine at first glance. Those who knew her well could read sympathies in her slightly bulging eyes and tiny red mouth. Lily was so sensitive that she had nightmares after seeing children beg in the streets. It was Bao’s turn. She tasted the soup, delicious. She felt grownup and feminine--she could cook like a homemaker. “So, Hongzhi. What’s going down in Beijing?” Tong said. Bao wanted to feed him a spoonful of soup, but she poured it in his bowl. Lily didn’t know that a few days ago Tong had put his tongue in Bao’s mouth. Hongzhi picked up the fish head with his chopsticks, poked out the juicy eyes and ate them with relish. Bao had heard that eating fish eyes would improve your eyesight. But Hongzhi was the only one wearing glasses at the table. “Martial law has been in effect for two weeks, but no troops have entered the city. People gave soldiers wrong directions and lured the military trucks into cul-de-sacs, old people sat on stools and even lay down in front of the trucks. They lectured the soldiers, telling them the students are patriotic. We fight for democracy on behalf of--” “Those grandpas and grandmas should mind their own business!” Tong drank a little soup but didn’t touch the fish. “Soldiers have to obey their orders--what do people expect from them, a mutiny?” Hongzhi glared at him. Lily worked on the fish tail, meticulously picking out fine bones from the meat. Bao ate a chunk of fish belly, where the bones were fewest, then tore off the fin from the fatty meat. “The Twenty-Seventh Army was marshaled from Chengdu, Sichuan.” Hongzhi started taking part of the fish head. “The soldiers hadn’t heard about the student movement, they were told to go to Beijing and put down anti-revolutionary riots.” He began to suck each piece of the head clean. “Don’t believe everything you hear,” Tong said. “Get real, man. If a few old people lying down in front of trucks could make the army forget it’s the army, we’d have a bigger problem on our hands than the lack of democracy.” Lily discarded the tail bone, picked clean. “In your expert opinion, how do we make people see the problems of autocracy? We’d--” “But now you can call our Central Government an autocracy,” Tong said. “Students curse Deng Xiaoping during public demonstrations. Isn’t this progress? Isn’t it?” “But the widespread corruptions--” Lily said. “It was different during the Cultural Revolution.” Tong tapped the fish bowl with the ends of his chopsticks. “Let me tell you a story. A woman bought a fish and wrapped it in old newspaper, like what you did with the carp. When she got home, her daughter sees the stained newspaper has Chairman Mao’s picture. She reports it to Red Guards, and her mother was locked up.” “Come on, it’s 1989,” Hongzhi said. “If you marry the daughter of a government official, you can become a profiteer with fat--” “The point is, nobody dared mention autocracy in those days. But now? Students have been staging protests, demonstrations, in Tiananmen Square since April.” Tong drained his wine. “Has anyone touched one hair on their heads?” Bao wanted to pinch him and warn him not to talk so much, but he wasn’t drunk. She would be rude to shut him up. “I’d like to go to Beijing,” Bao said, “to see the Goddess of Democracy.” “Why don’t you? All you need to do is this.” Hongzhi made a victory sign with two fingers. “With your student ID you can travel all over China for free.” “The boyfriend stood in her way.” Tong held her hand under the table. “What if she meets some brainy Ph.D. in the Square?” Lily tittered. “Like she can’t do it here?” Bao frowned at her, but Lily stuck out her tongue. Hongzhi, who had arranged the fish head bones in a neat pile, looked pleased with himself. He sucked his wet fingers, a habit that Bao found unhygienic and juvenile. “I was on a hunger strike, lying there like a vegetable. My roommate brought me a letter--a scholarship from MIT.” “The MIT?” Bao said. Hongzhi nodded. “I started eating porridge and a pork bun. I realized--to die is human, to leave divine.” Bao stared at his speckled face, his hair hanging over his brows. His darker cheek looked a bit older than the lighter one. She felt a pang of jealousy. Tong had no intellectual achievement to boast of. She loosened his hand and turned to Lily. “Will you miss him?” A coy smile lit Lily’s face. She looked very feminine. “We’re just friends.” Bao wasn’t surprised. Lily usually guarded affairs of the heart like a miser banking money; the longer it stayed in the vault, the more interest it would generate. “Congrats.” Tong replenished Hongzhi’s mug. “I can’t be a deserter. Someone has to be the undertaker, clean the toilet, and sweep the streets.” “Sure.” Hongzhi filled his bowl with the soup and soaked spoonfuls of cold rice in it. “I know students went to Nanjing military region headquarters and kowtowed in the streets, begging the military not to use force.” He pressed a fist against his mouth to muffle a cough. “What a shame.” He coughed harder and louder, his face turning crimson. “Is there a fishbone in your throat?” Lily said. Hongzhi nodded helplessly. “Swallow this.” She picked up a morsel of rice with her chopsticks. As soon as he ate it his face relaxed a bit. Lily let out the breath she’d been holding. Hongzhi cleared his throat and then resumed coughing. “Still there.” Bao had heard that vinegar could soften fishbone, but they didn’t have any. “Try this.” Tong cut a meatball in halves with his chopsticks. “Don’t chew.” Hongzhi swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed. Finally the coughing stopped and his puckering forehead smoothed out. “I’m saved.” He wiped tears from his eyes. There was a soft knock. Bao thought Tong was drumming the desk before a female voice asked, “Is anyone home?” “Who is it?” Bao signaled for Tong to hide his wine bottle, while Lily slid the hot plate under her bed. Hongzhi collected the fish bones and tossed them in the wastebasket. The desk was free of incriminating evidence when a hand pushed open the door. The visitor was Miss Tan, the political counselor in their department. A breeze through the open door ushered in the musty odors of laundry detergent, soiled toilets, sanitary napkins, and discarded food from the public bathroom. Bao stood up and pulled open the curtains. The smell of fish soup vanished. “How are you, girls?” Miss Tan’s voice was measured, without emotion or curiosity. Her round of the dorm had the air of official business. “We’re chatting with a couple of friends.” Lily offered her a stool. Miss Tan sat in the middle of the room. Behind her was the utility shelf that held washbasins and utensils. She wore a sandy rayon dress printed with blue cornflowers. Her hair hung in two thick braids with curled ends. Bao had seen these French braids worn by foreign actresses in Popular Movie magazine. Like most students, Miss Tan wore no makeup. Her almond-shaped eyes looked girlish under their thin lids. “Hopefully I’m not crashing your party.” “It wasn’t a party,” Bao said. “We ate supper from the canteen but haven’t done the dishes.” “Allow me.” Hongzhi collected the mugs, bowls, and chopsticks. “I ate the most.” “Sit down,” Bao said. “The washroom is off limits. Some girl may be taking a bath behind the stall.” “Zhang Hongzhi is my high school classmate,” Lily said. “He came to visit me on his way back to Beijing. He studies at Qinghua University.” “I see.” Miss Tan turned toward Tong. “And you are . . .” “Li Tong is a friend of mine.” Bao was afraid Miss Tan might recognize Tong as the company commander during her military training. Without his army uniform, Tong could pass for a student. “Are you two dating?” Miss Tan said. Caught by surprise, Bao sucked in air between her teeth. “No.” Miss Tan was a colleague of Bao’s father. Professor Gu was as proud as any father with an only daughter was entitled to be. Being a man of law, he could go on for days citing a mountain of evidence why no man would be good enough for Bao. If he knew Bao was dating a soldier, he might forgo his dignity and throw a conniption fit. Bao kept her eyes discreetly downcast. Miss Tan folded her hands upon her lap and sat up tall. “Last term, a girl spent a night with a student of the opposite sex. She was expelled from the university, no questions asked.” “I told you already: we’re not dating.” Bao couldn’t tell Miss Tan to leave. She was a political counselor. It was her job to pry into the personal lives of her students. “Tong works with a few graduates from Nanjing University,” Lily said. “They sell—computers.” “What type of computers?” “Mostly 80286,” Hongzhi said. “In six months they’ll buy a new 80386 PC. You can configure it to be a network host running TCP/IP.” “If we make enough money.” Tong made a crunching sound with his knuckles. “I care about you, girls, perhaps more than you know.” Miss Tan looked up, her eyes moist and full of warmth. “I feel like a mother hen protecting her brood. I often worry that if I neglect you, something unfortunate might happen.” “Don’t worry,” Lily said. “None of us took part in the hunger strike.” “Lately student leaders have been calling for people to empty the campuses. This tactic won’t be tolerated.” “But six of our roommates went home,” Bao said. “Then there’s more reason for you to stay put.” Miss Tan eyed the empty beds draped with gauze mosquito nets. “I’ll note you two have stayed until June 2.” “What’s happening?” Bao asked. “Will there a crackdown?” “What have you heard?” Miss Tan said. “That the tanks are summoned to Beijing--” “They are there to keep order.” Miss Tan stooped to tighten the strap of her sandal. “Remember, the troops are the people’s troops.” “A fine promise to keep,” Hongzhi said. “You look familiar, Counselor Tan.” Tong piped up. “I must’ve seen you in the demonstration. I never forget a face, not a pretty one anyway.” Even without a mirror, Bao knew her face turned white. A week ago she and Tong had indeed seen Miss Tan among the demonstrators. She had worn a broad-brimmed sunhat printed with peonies. As soon as she saw Miss Tan, Bao dropped Tong’s hand and pretended to walk alone. “If your schoolmates aren’t afraid to die, why should you be afraid to date me?” Bao couldn’t answer his question, which instilled her with sudden courage. Walking hand in hand with Tong, she soon forgot about Miss Tan’s presence. Perhaps Miss Tan remembered Tong. She wasn’t fooled by Lily’s story about Tong being a casual visitor. If Miss Tan threatened to tell Professor Gu about Bao dating Tong, Bao could threaten her as well. She could expose Miss Tan’s participation in the student movement, a deadly accusation for a political counselor. “Everyone on the street is not necessarily a demonstrator,” Bao said. “I did not see you, Counselor Tan.” Miss Tan’s face was flushed like a ripe peach. Picking at her French braids, she opened her mouth as if to argue with Bao. On second thought, she put the end of her braids in her mouth, chewing and sucking it like a stalk of sugarcane. “It’s late. I must make the rounds of the men’s dorm.” Miss Tan stood up and dusted off her immaculate skirt. “I’ll see you around.” “So long, Counselor Tan.” Bao walked Miss Tan to the stairs and watched her descend in spirals. She returned inside and shut the door. “That insufferable woman, never a true word out of her mouth, she disgraces the law department!” “Hush.” Lily leaned over the windowsill to watch the people downstairs. “Okay, she’s gone.” Bao took out a bag of five-flavored sunflower seeds. She hadn’t offered the treat to Miss Tan, or she would’ve stayed much longer. “I feel sorry for Miss Tan. Her boyfriend went to study in the United States. He dumped her after a semester.” Bao ate a few sunflower seeds and spat out shells in neat halves. “Miss Tan will be an old maid, no wonder she can’t stand seeing us date.” “Why did he dump her?” Lily’s eyes were wide with sympathy. “I guess he met someone more fun.” Bao giggled when Tong caressed her knee. “Or he wants to marry an American woman for green card.” “That’s dumb,” Tong said. “Why, you fancy her? Miss Tan is a lot older than you.” “How did you two meet?” Hongzhi darted curious glances at their faces. “At the military training, I was her company commander.” Tong chuckled. “She was one of a hundred and fifty freshman girls under my command.” “Was it love at the first sight?” Lily said. “Oh his eyes wandered,” Bao said. “Tall girls from English department, flirty girls from Chinese department, you name it.” “The story goes like this: A hero rescues an ailing beauty.” Tong stroked her short hair. The first time Bao had been alone with Tong was in the infirmary. She had felt sick, so was excused from the parade-step drill. After two penicillin shots and being on an IV for a night, she woke up finding Tong by her bedside. “How are you feeling?” His face was creased with worry. “My head’s stopped aching.” “Don’t get up.” He pulled his chair closer. “I can hear you.” She wondered how long he had been watching her, and why he wasn’t tending to the company’s drills. Then she remembered it was Sunday. How wretched she was to get sick on the only day she was free! She felt homesick and missed her parents. “You’re a national treasure.” “What?” “Your name, Gu Bao, sounds like national treasure.” “No one’s ever said that before.” He looked flattered, as if Bao had handed him an unexpected gift. “The name suits you, because university students are our national treasures.” It was a cliché. Only four percent of high school graduates were admitted into universities each year. Students were educated with the guarantee of future jobs. Their fringe benefits included rations of thirty-two pounds of rice per month, residence cards in the city of their universities, free education and dorm housing, and subsidized food. Therefore, female students were not short of admirers. The compliment embarrassed Bao. “You give me goose bumps. I’ll have to call you the most lovable man.” She merely slapped him with another cliché. Tong flushed to the roots of his hair. “I hope you mean it.” He stood up and left. The nurse came to give Bao a shot. Lying on her belly with her pants down, Bao thought of the handsome company commander. In high school she had listened to reports by veterans of the Vietnam War; they all spoke of the heartbreak of losing young comrades and glorified the cause of defending China’s border from Vietnamese invaders. A book of war stories titled “Who is the most lovable?” was widely quoted. For years the People’s Liberation Army had been called “the most lovable.” Now Bao pushed Tong away. “He called me a national treasure, like I was a giant panda!” “Okay, who wrote me, ‘The weather is cooling down, but my heart begins to warm up to you.’ Who did?” Bao laughed until tears came into her eyes. “When I took you dancing, you dragged your feet like a papa bear.” “Not every girl thinks of me as clumsy.” Tong tugged her earlobe. “Could you handle a girl from the English department? She’d be too hip for you.” Bao patted his chest. “I’m a law student, your potential soul mate.” “I’m a computer engineering major, also a good fit for a law student.” Hongzhi croaked with laughter. Bao leaned forward. “Are you high school sweethearts?” “I’ve known her since the fifth grade,” Hongzhi said. “Back then she wore two pigtails, and her sneakers were white as snow.” Lily blushed. “He lives across from my apartment building.” Lily and Hongzhi grew up like a sister and brother. How could they develop sexual feelings for each other? “I’m taking the train back to Beijing tonight. Will you come with me?” Hongzhi gazed upon Lily’s face with rapture. “Tomorrow we’ll be home.” “After what Miss Tan just said?” Lily asked. “Why not?” Hongzhi pounded the desk. “Can they expel us all?” “You may feel invincible, because you’re leaving for the States.” Lily closed the curtains to keep out the sun that baked the leftover rice. “I’ll go with him if you don’t,” Bao said. “Eloping with Mr. MIT?” Tong said. “I want to see the Goddess of Democracy. Why don’t you come along?” Tong scratched a dirty spot on the desk with his fingernail. Bao decided to let him sulk. “It’s just a plaster statue,” Hongzhi said, “not very beautiful.” “But it won’t be there forever.” Bao’s voice trembled. “It’ll come down, and I’ll never see it with my own eyes.” Everyone fell silent. The buzzing of a fly was startlingly loud. Bao waved it away. It flew up and circled their heads. Tong tried to swat it with a book, but the fly was quicker than he. Finally they had to ignore it. Hongzhi pushed up his glasses. “If you go, I’ll give you a tour of Beijing.” “Thank you.” Bao got up to pack her bag. “Don’t go.” Tong held onto her hand. “You’ll walk into martial law.” She tried to pull away, but his grip was tight. “I’m no coward! What sort of a lawyer will I be if I’m afraid of martial law?” Lily tittered. “If Miss Tan heard you--” “I’ll have a job to fight for the weak and violated. The sooner I learn to defy authorities the better.” Bao felt almost giddy, intoxicated by her ambition. She wasn’t the best student or the most persuasive speaker. But she’d become a lawyer who could right wrongs, however small, however insignificant. “What about us?” Tong wiped his face with his palm. “One minute you were my soul mate, next thing I know, I’m your class enemy.” “She’ll come back after seeing the Goddess.” Hongzhi patted Tong’s hand. “Relax, you can’t put a handcuff on her.” “If you love me--” “Love doesn’t mean dependence.” Bao crossed her arms over her chest. “You’d better get used to it. When I become a lawyer, I’ll be making changes--” “Change is good, China needs a lot of changes.” Hongzhi leaned forward with his hands clasped. “You should go for the sort of fundamental changes that have lasting impact on people’s lives.” “Like what?” Bao fixed her eyes upon Hongzhi’s face. “For one, you shouldn’t have to hide your boyfriend from your political counselor. Is it a crime to be in love?” “Thank you, bro.” Tong held out his hand, but Hongzhi ignored him. “Make love not war. But not in China?” The room fell silent. Lily picked at her fingernails, Tong nodded and smiled. Bao bit her lip. How could Hongzhi say such things and in front of Lily? Bao said, “There’re some cultural differences when it comes to--” “But is it natural?” Hongzhi said. “Why do you talk as if you’re not Chinese anymore?” Lily said. “First of all, I’m a human being, and second, I’m a Chinese citizen. From birth I have the right to think, to learn, to live, to find a mate, and so on. But for the last three decades the words--liberty, democracy, and human rights—have been pronounced bourgeois. What on earth does that leave for us?” “You want ‘complete Westernization’?” Tong folded his hands behind his head and stretched. “Guilty as charged, but let’s not get off the topic.” Hongzhi took off his glasses to wipe the lenses. “Tiananmen Square is what you see on TV but more squalid. The students are biding their time, most of them from out of town with no other place to go. When you see the public bathroom--” “I can stay at your house,” Bao said. Hongzhi cast a sidelong glance at Lily. Bao said, “You don’t mind--do you, Lily?” “Why do you impose on your friends?” Tong said. “I’ll put in for a leave and take you to Beijing.” “Seriously?” Bao sat on his lap. “For you I’ll brave fire and flood.” Tong embraced her and stroked the underside of her thigh. The tingling sensation was so nice it felt sinful. “Before you leave, let’s go dancing tonight.” Lily’s eyes were shining. “I’ll check out the scene.” Hongzhi looked at Tong. “How about you?” “Too bad I have a political study tonight.” “Go ask for a leave.” Bao smoothed his hair. “Come see me when you’re in Beijing, and bring me a bottle of stolen wine.” Hongzhi poured the rest of wine into their mugs. “We’ll get good and drunk.” “A toast to friends.” Tong raised his mug. “To love.” Hongzhi pushed up his glasses with his knuckle. Their tea-colored lenses darkened with the afternoon sunlight slanting into the room. “Politics is fickle, like the moon constantly changing. Love is real and loyal.” Lily clinked their mugs in turn. “To friends and lovers.” Bao gulped down the wine. A gentle warmth in her belly spread to her chest and face. She was elated. Perhaps the Goddess of Democracy would last for one more week, it might even end up in a museum. She would go and have her picture taken with the Goddess. Chapter 2 Bao, Lily and Hongzhi entered the iron gate to the dry skating arena, an outdoor dance floor. Every student on campus seemed to have flocked here. There was hardly elbow room for the bystanders who crowded the outer area. In the middle young couples twirled and danced to Madonna’s “La Isla Bonita”: Beautiful faces, no cares in this world Where a girl loves a boy, and a boy loves a girl “Hello?” Bao turned toward the greeting. A strapping man with a hooknose grinned at her. “So we meet again, miss. I invited you to dance before. Remember me?” Bao swallowed her question, “Have I seen you before?” She glanced at the golden snake patterns on his black silk shirt. “Really?” she said. “You live in Dorm Number Two.” He pinched his chin and squinted. “The third floor near the west end, I seem to remember.” He might’ve spied on Bao with binoculars. It was a popular hobby of the male students who lived across from her dorm. “You mistake me for someone else,” Bao said and heard Lily titter. “What?” “Take it easy, Miss Popular.” Lily went away with Hongzhi to the dance floor. “Care to dance?” The man offered his hand. “No, thank you.” He left without a word. Bao felt both relieved and vaguely disappointed that he gave up so easily. She saw Lily jitterbugging. The wide hem of her yellow skirt opened up like a giant poppy when she twirled. A head taller than Lily, the bespectacled Hongzhi looked dignified and bookish. The two ordinary people make a stunning couple, Bao watched with envy. “Will you dance with me?” Even in the dim light Bao recognized the baby face with curly hair. He was about her height, but he carried himself like a large man. She had danced with him, a Ph.D. student majored in economics. Lily had said he was helplessly in love with Bao, which she vehemently denied. “The song is ending.” “So? It’s the perfect time to dance.” He took her hand before she consented. As the music swelled, she recognized her favorite song, “Careless Whisper.” “What’s your name, miss?” Several steps into the dance, he asked her a familiar question. Instead of answering, Bao strained her ears to listen to the lyrics. Her English was mediocre, so it was hard to make sense of the words. “What’s your family name?” he said. “Gu.” “Miss Gu, you have beautiful eyes.” Bao met his gaze, steadfast without timidity. There wasn’t a trace of affection in his eyes. His lips pouted in an awkward half-smile, which gave away his nervousness. “Your eyes aren’t bad, either.” He shook his head, as if she had hurled an insult. “Are you a sophomore?” “Why do you ask?” “You aren’t bashful with men.” Bao shivered in spite of herself, and this didn’t escape his notice. “Do you have a boyfriend?” “Is it your business?” She glimpsed Lily’s yellow skirt whirling toward the middle of the arena. She wanted to catch up with Lily, so that she could dance without a care. Yet he led her further away to the edge of the crowd, brushing by scores of onlookers who stood tapping their feet. “You could give me a straight answer.” His hand slid down her forearm and touched her bracelet. “Is this a gift from your boyfriend?” She tried to struggle free, but his grip was tight. “What’s wrong? We’re in the middle of a song.” His voice was placid as if they were talking about weather. “I don’t feel like dancing anymore.” It was the first time she told a partner off this way. Somehow, she knew he could handle it. “You can abandon me when it’s over.” With sleight of hand he made her turn and cut into the narrow space between two couples. “Am I such a bad dancer?” Bao had to admit he was a superb dancer. Tong liked to hold her to his chest, as if she was a pillow for practicing. She enjoyed dancing with strangers, all of whom were more skillful in leading her than Tong. She rarely danced twice with any man on a given night. “Now will you tell me your first name?” he said. She shook her head. With any luck she’d pair up with another dancer in the next song. Why give him the false hope that she might stick around? He said nothing but pushed her forcefully and nearly made her trip. Then he pulled her forward abruptly, making her finish a graceful turn. Bao brushed by Lily and Hongzhi, both of whom were skipping and turning, laughing and having a good time. “You can put up a tough front,” he said. “Do you expect it to work on me?” “What’re you talking about?” “I heard your friend call you Gu Bao. I know you live in Dorm Number Two. I meant to have a civil conversation with you. Why do you put on airs? Do you think I want to ask you out?” “I do not!” She wanted to sound indignant, but meeting his eyes, she burst into loud laughter. “You think that being a Ph.D. student, you can bully a freshman like me.” “You may be a freshman, but you can’t be bullied.” She made a turn against her will, then another, and another. She was amazed that she was dancing almost as well as Lily. “You came here wide-eyed, wearing your mini skirt. Men swarm to you like ants to honey. Who’s the predator, you or I?” “You flatter me.” She wanted to argue but couldn’t devise any logic that stood a chance of winning him over. He was a Ph.D. student, with intelligence to prove it. “You can dance with any girl you want, while I have to wait to be asked.” “If I ask you again, will you dance with me?” “No.” “Then I must make the most of this one.” She braced herself for crazier whirling; instead, he held her close and slowed his steps. She heard him sing, Tonight the music seems so loud I wish that we could lose this crowd Maybe it’s better this way We’d hurt each other with the things we’d want to say We could have been so good together We could have lived this dance forever But no one’s gonna dance with me Please stay She leaned against his chest and felt his stiff shirt. Their hips touched as their feet moved in time with the haunting music. She could feel the beating of his heart. He wore no cologne. His face was stern. His eyes, large and almost watery, shone with the innocence that moved her beyond words. She recognized loneliness in his proud face. Perhaps he had never kissed a girl. When Tong had slid his tongue into her mouth for the first time, Bao was too embarrassed to look at him. That seemed to excite him, for he had kissed her until her lips felt puffy and her chest swelled with strange warmth. After Tong left, she had cried in her bed for a bewilderingly long time; later, she felt silly and cowardly. Tong adored her body; to him, every inch of her skin seemed to have some significance. He inserted his fingers into her bra, her underpants, and the soft folds of her skin in all the unspeakable places. She hadn’t tried very hard to stop his advances, so she felt guilty afterwards. What if her parents knew? They would be horrified that she had allowed a man to take liberties with her body. When the Ph.D. student released her hand, she noticed the music had ended. “Oh, will you dance with me again?” He laughed and cupped a hand behind his ear. “Are you asking me to dance?” “Is this predatory behavior?” “I’ll risk my life, even if you’re a praying mantis.” He reached out for her hand. “Beware, I have a boyfriend.” She stood back with a smile. “Still want to dance?” “Miss Gu, you underestimate a revolutionary youth.” “For real?” “I was among the first who answered to the boycott.” He led her to the dance floor. “I was cutting classes anyway, why not make it official? You know, like a couple getting a marriage license, better than sneaking around, right?” “Sure.” Her facetious tone made him laugh. “So we stormed onto the streets, waving the university flag. We passed around the donation boxes and made speeches. The girls melted hearts when they embraced the strangers and burst into tears.” He looked her in the eye. “You might’ve done it yourself.” She would have been an activist if she weren’t busy dating Tong. Both her parents worked at the university. She had to hide Tong from people’s watchful eyes. “My friend and I were on the match,” she said. “Too tired to walk, we hired a pedicab for three yuan. The man peddled a few steps and started sobbing. We asked what was wrong. He said, ‘I’m making money off a national crisis.’ He almost made me cry.” When the song ended, she didn’t cast a glance at the young men waiting for their turns. “The doctors were great,” he said. “I was on a hunger strike for four days, drinking Coca Cola and royal jelly. Then Beijing declared martial law. Students panicked, grabbing the medicine and clothes donated by citizens, and fled back to school. I was wearing a tee shirt. A doctor gave me his jacket and fed me the leftover royal jelly. ‘We won’t leave these to the PLA men!’” When it started to drizzle, people swarmed under the canvas awning. Some left, making room for the others. Couples began to dance under the awning. Bao and her partner maneuvered carefully through the crowd. The rain muffled the sound of music. More people paired up to dance under the awning. Several couples whirled into the pouring rain. They seemed to be in love; if not, they would be by the end of the dance, when the contours of their bodies showed through their wet clothes. Dancing, Bao felt happy and free. She felt connected with the Ph.D. student in a way that Tong hadn’t allowed her to feel. The dance ended at ten thirty. Soon the lights were turned out at the dry skating arena. It was still raining. The Ph.D. student offered Bao a hanky to cover her head. “Is your boyfriend on campus?” His voice was trembling, without his earlier confidence. “No.” She felt her eyes sting. It must be the rain. “He’s not exactly a revolutionary youth.” “Will I see you again?” She nodded. He walked her back to the dorm, collected his hanky and said goodbye. When Bao returned to the dorm, Lily was packing her travel bag. “When did you leave the dance?” Bao asked. “Hongzhi wanted to say goodbye to you, but I told him not to bother.” Lily hung up a wing of her mosquito net. She removed a few books, a photo album and sandalwood fan from her bed. “Your Ph.D. beau was spellbound by your charms.” “He’s a good dancer, that’s all.” Lily zipped up her travel bag and sat on her bed. “I won’t tell the company commander.” “I’m not married to Tong.” Bao pulled open the curtains to let the drizzle into the room. Many rooms in the opposite male dorm didn’t have curtains. Students used them and bedsheets to make banners. Now young men and their clutter were in plain view. Some students took their straw mats and slept on the flat roof. At dawn they had a bird’s-eye view of the whole campus. Bao envied them their freedom. Being a girl, she couldn’t be so immodest as to sleep in the open air, no matter how unbearably hot the dorm was. “He made me laugh about the hunger strike.” Bao sat down at the table. “But he could’ve died, or worse, become a vegetable!” “Now you’re smitten.” “What’s wrong with you?” “Goodnight.” Lily climbed into the upper bunk. She put down the wings of the mosquito net and fastened them with two wooden clips. “I have a long trip tomorrow.” “I thought you’re staying.” There was no answer. Bao hopped onto the desk and opened the mosquito net. “You have to tell me, after I confided in you.” “If martial law tightens up, I may have trouble getting home. Besides, I’m bored out of my mind.” “Bored living with me?” “You have Tong and the Ph.D.. What do I have?” Lily changed into her jewel-necked pajamas. “Hongzhi may leave in August.” “Marry him.” “And get myself kicked out of school?” “He’s worth it.” “How do you know?” Lily pressed her forehead against the horizontal crossbar that kept her from rolling off the upper bunk. “He wants to have three children in the States.” “No!” Bao patted Lily’s flat belly. “You’ll be stretched out like a sack! Why does he want democracy if he lives like an old peasant?” Lily beat away her hand. “Having three children is scientifically sound, this way the population can sustain itself.” “If every couple does this, only one in a hundred high school graduates can enter the university, one in ten university students can find a job--” “Should we be punished because Chairman Mao banned the family planning?” Bao didn’t know the answer. “Hongzhi isn’t patriotic.” “So he’s leaving, thank you very much.” Suddenly the lights were shut off. A clamor rose from the male dorm. “Turn on the lights!” “Down with Li Peng! Abolish martial law!” “March immediately! March immediately!” several men yelled in one voice. Bao crawled into her bed and closed the mosquito net. “I’ll see you guys in a few days. Promise me a double date.” “Hongzhi and I are just friends.” Outside the clamor was dying down. “Put down the rebellion!” A hoarse voice broke the silence, followed by good-natured laughter. “Fuck you.” * * * The next day Bao read a warrior novel in her bed and then stood up to stretch her limbs. Tong would arrive any minute. She smoothed out the white bedsheet over the cotton mattress. Beside her pillow, she put a sandalwood fan, carved with wintersweet blossoms and two magpies that signified double-happiness, a symbol for newlyweds. She also had a buffalo horn comb and a cloisonné hand mirror, small luxuries that made her feel feminine in an otherwise studious life. Hearing a familiar knock on the door, she opened it tentatively. This was one of few times that she received a guest by herself. Tong entered and looked behind the door. “Did Hongzhi go home?” She nodded. “You heard? An emergency announcement warned Beijing citizens to stay off the streets and away from the Square.” “Again?” She sat on the bed and crossed her legs. “This one is serious, so I couldn’t request . . .” He sat down and held her hand. “I can’t leave yet. Let’s wait until tomorrow.” “Lily went after Hongzhi and left this morning.” “Good, they have each other. You alone?” He moved close so their thighs touched. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “What’re you going to do?” She was surprised to hear herself laugh: provocative, unabashed. Cradling her in his arms, he sniffed her hair, cheek, ear, and neck. “You’re beautiful. And you smell wonderful. Did you have fun last night?” “Yes, a Ph.D. student was a good dancer.” “Sure, he’s had lots of practice. No wonder people like to say, ‘As obtuse as a professor, as idiotic as a Ph.D.’” “Sour grapes.” “I can’t help it.” He slid a hand into her blouse. “You could melt a man from ten feet away.” She sucked in the extra flesh that padded her belly. She was neither tall nor skinny enough to be striking. Her eyes were pretty, but he wasn’t looking at her face. She trembled when his fingers stroked her nipple. “I want to make you happy.” His hand swam downward into her underpants. Moaning, she squeezed her privates to make them shrink into a small pear. Yet, she had the unsafe feeling that her bottom spread out of her underpants like an oversized pumpkin. “Please don’t do that.” But she didn’t want him to stop. The wooden bed squeaked as he leapt to kneel above her. Watching his eyes, she felt naked and vulnerable, but at the same time powerful and absolutely confident about her body. He peeled off her underpants and then parted her legs wide. “No.” She grabbed his hand. His face was calm, guiltless, as if asking, “What’s wrong?” A few nights ago she had let him put two fingers inside her. There had been a smile on his face, but his eyes had implored. Now he looked impatient and possessive. He wasn’t asking for her permission, he was telling her to get ready. “Let’s make love.” “But I--” “I won’t hurt you, I promise.” The word “hurt” made her head clear a little. She shouldn’t have sex before marriage. Not that she didn’t want to, but if she was found out, she’d be expelled from the university and never set foot in the classroom again. Anyone could be an informer--including Tong, who might flaunt his conquest. “I can’t do it,” she said in a clear voice. “Don’t worry.” She almost laughed. She wasn’t worried. She knew she could stop his advance--she had both the right and power. This was her dorm, where she reigned like a queen. Tong was merely a guest. He would not take possession of her body without her explicit invitation. Something touched her thigh, and she looked down. It was his thing. She must’ve been daydreaming and didn’t notice when he had taken off his pants. His legs were hairy, his muscles pink and firm. His crotch was black with dense, curly hairs. What a mess! She mustn’t look at the hairy monster dangling in front of him. Its sheer size was obscene. “Do you want to touch it?” His question startled her. Before she could shake her head, he put her hand on his privates. He used his thing to pee, and God knows what else, but he had stroked her vagina as if it were the Holy Grail. How could she disdain his body while he adored hers? She stroked his testicles and the wrinkly loose skin around them. “Oh.” He moaned. “It feels good.” She was surprised and grew curious. Either he was easy to please, or she had the magic touch. She liked to believe the latter. A surge of courage rushed over her when she took hold of his erect penis. “Rub it,” he said. She moved her hand up and down his penis. The skin thinned until it became almost translucent. He lost his smile, his face growing stern. His breathing quickened, and he looked as though suffering from some internal pain. She was glad to help him along. Soon he would get release and kiss her with gratitude. To her surprise he pushed forward and threw her on the bed. His tongue was in her mouth, exploring. She kissed him back eagerly and wrapped her arms around his back. When his chest pressed against hers, she welcomed his weight sinking into her soft breasts. Their tongues intertwined in a passion wrestle she’d never experienced. Quickly her legs were parted. She felt him push inside her and then slowly withdraw. The depth of penetration told her it wasn’t done by fingers. No, no, stop, she said in her head, but the words were muffled by the tongues. His tongue, hers, they were one. Neither could speak. He pumped away vigorously. The pain was so acute she felt dazed. In her head she shouted “Stop!” but her vagina was pliant and allowed him to go deeper. She let out a half sob. “Does it hurt?” Nodding, she bit her lip and sniffled. “Just a bit longer, you’re so tight and sweet.” He pushed up her blouse and undid her bra. He kissed her breast, caressing it with his tongue. She felt her nipple roll around in his mouth, like chocolate, sweet and melting. He propped himself up on his elbows. She lay underneath him, her breasts jiggling as he thrust deeper. Her pain diminished into a longing for him, more of him. “Oh.” He shivered above her. “You are a dream.” * * * She lay there, perfectly still. Shouts sounded from the opposite dorm. “Brothers and sisters, go to the streets and protest! There’s bloodshed in Beijing!” The cacophony was accompanied by the beating of washbasins and enamel food basins. “Down with Fascists!” “They’re killing students! Arise, everyone, arise!” “Bandits! Animals!” Bao sat up. Sticky stuff flowed out of her, tainted by blood. She wiped it with her underpants and cried. “It’s okay. I’m your first.” “Why did you do it? I said--” “Don’t you feel good?” “But I said--” “You’re tired, honey. Let’s take a nap.” He walked to the door in bare feet and shut off the lights. Darkness fell upon the room. The moonlight, streetlight, and light from the opposite dorm illuminated the white curtain. A boombox blasted “The Internationale”: Arise ye workers from your slumbers Arise ye prisoners of want For reason in revolt now thunders And at last ends the age of cant. Glass bottles broke on the cement ground like firecrackers, punctuating the sonorous, stirring music. What happened? Why now? Lily was on the train back to Hongzhi. They would have three children in the United States. Bao had given Tong the most precious gift a woman could give a man, the gift a bride gave her husband on their wedding night. When he returned to the bed, she let him hold her. Her eyes brimmed over with tears. “I love you, Bao.” “You do?” He stroked the sensitive skin in her lower back. “I hope you’ll never find out--how much I love you.” She wept quietly in his arms. * * * Sometime later, Bao opened her eyes with a start. The mosquito net quivered in the breeze. The lights in the opposite dorm were still on, so it must be before eleven o’clock. Her head felt clearer after a nap. Her fear had vanished, and in its place, an unidentifiable anger flamed in her chest. “What’re you doing?” She grabbed Tong’s hand from between her legs. “Let’s make love.” “No, never!” “Never?” He saw her face and draped his arm around her back. “All right, we’ll lie here, like the dearest couple in the world.” She pushed him. “Set me loose.” He ignored her, so she punched his chest with her fist. “I mean it!” He pulled back and folded his arm under his head. “Do you hate me so much?” His eyes were tender with sympathy. “How can I make it up to you?” How dare he patronize her after making the conquest? She slapped his face. He laughed and put his arm around her again, this time more tightly. “Hit me, if it makes you feel better.” “All right, don’t flinch.” She slapped him again and again, until her hand hurt. Even in the dark she saw his face turn red. “Serves you right.” He didn’t turn away but gazed at her with an indulgent smile. Suddenly she felt guilty and nestled up to him. “Feeling better?” He stroked her hair. She nodded. “Will you stay with me tonight?” The twinkle in his eyes made her blush. “I meant sleeping, not doing that!” “Of course, dear.” He kissed her lips. “I’ll say I visited my friends at Hehai University, in case my roommate asks.” “What if you told the truth?” “I would be discharged from my training program. How about you?” “I’d be expelled, and my parents would never forgive me. My teachers and classmates would think I’m a slut--” “Hush, don’t think so much.” He wiped her tears with his palm. “We won’t tell anyone.” She took a deep breath. “Why did they say killing? Do you think--” “I hope it’s not true.” “But is it true?” “What can we do?” He stroked her cheek. “You may go staging protests, I’ll keep order. Would you rather us meet in the streets?” “Hongzhi was right--it’s a horrible country. I wish I could go away--” “Leaving your home, leaving me?” “Take me now, before I say no. Tomorrow I may hate you--” He was inside her, teasing, thrusting, pounding, until her angry thoughts vanished, and in their place was a blissful oblivion, thickened into pleasure. She held him tightly, afraid that he’d pull away too soon, that he’d leave her aching, longing for him. “Do you love me?” he said. She opened her eyes. He collapsed beside her, sweating profusely. “I can’t bear it if you don’t love me.” “What? That I use you for sex?” She sounded lascivious, cold. “Isn’t it what you wanted?” “You sound like someone else.” “Who?” “I was seduced by an older woman. I was seventeen, studying for my college entrance exams. She was thirty-five, married, with a twelve-year-old son.” Bao was shocked. She hadn’t suspected Tong had a past. He was so flustered around her as if she were too good for him. Believing that she had a definite advantage in affairs of the heart, she also thought she was more experienced. How could she be so wrong? “She moved away years ago, when her husband threatened to divorce her.” She flexed her hands. Too bad she had hit him. Now would be an opportune time to beat him up. “It was a turning point in my life. Instead of focusing on my studies, I began to think about women, sex. Confused and distracted, I failed the college entrance exams.” She sneered. “You think?” “I’m not stupid.” “Did I say you were stupid?” “My brother went to the Second Military Medical University. We went to the same high school. My teachers expected me to go to a university at least as good as SMMU. If not for that woman . . .” He pounded the pillow. “I wish I’d never met her. I wish her husband had divorced her.” “So you joined the army.” “My father is a division commander of the Nanjing Military Region. He has influential friends in the military. It’s a good place for me to be. The best part is . . .” He kissed her eyebrow. “I met you, sweetie.” Her heart warmed at the endearment. She smiled through her tears. “You haven’t had other girlfriends, have you?” “After I joined the army, several married women tried to seduce me. I was weak and went along with them.” He shook his head. “I was like a dog that couldn’t stand the temptation of pork buns.” “You’re worse than a dog.” How could he have thrust his penis into another woman? It made her gag. “Bao, that was before I met you.” His eyes were filled with contrition. “You may think I’m a dirty old man. Sex is easy, it’s cheap. Sex is nothing compared to love.” “Say whatever you want.” “You’ve known me for nine months. You know I wasn’t just lusting after you.” “What else were you after?” “I love your passion, your wit, your beauty, and most of all, your affection for me. I can do without sex if that’s your wish.” She wrapped her leg around him. His skin, warm and salty, made her a bit drunk. Would her love grow stronger or diminish into a physical need? She touched the wrinkly cotton of his tank top and felt his firm, supple muscles. She found his hand and clutched it tightly. Chapter 3 Tong got up at dawn to catch the first bus, before students would blockade the streets. Bao sprawled her legs to the warm spot where he had lain. She never wanted to wake up, but the morning came, just like any other day. The sun gilded the eastern wall of the male dorm. The cement ground was littered with broken glass, torn paper, old shoes, and other assorted garbage. An old woman wearing a yellow armband and gauze mask swept the ground with a bamboo broom. Several students poked their heads out of the second-floor windows. A stocky man in a red tank top shouted, “Auntie, we want to have a dialogue with you.” She ignored him and continued to sweep. “Seriously, auntie, a dialogue goes both ways.” She pulled down her gauze mask. “If you had any sense, you’d go to classes instead of creating turmoil!” “Were you in Tiananmen Square last night? Did you see us burn tanks?” “So smart, are you? Throwing garbage like two-year-olds.” They burst into laughter. “We had a dialogue. Good day, auntie!” Bao added milk powder to a mug and poured hot water. She sat down with the drink and two almond cookies. After a few bites, she heard people shouting slogans. “Give us back our fellow students.” “Blood for blood.” “Try the murderers!” The roar brought her to the windows. A group of students marched through the alleyway between the two dorms. Those in front played dirges on a tape recorder and carried wreathes and banners that read, “Mourning the victims in Beijing,” “The army proved with tanks and machine guns that they entered Beijing to repress students and the masses,” “Marshal Xu and Marshal Nie, what happened to your promises?” She couldn’t read anymore. After finishing her breakfast, she went downstairs to call her parents. “Dad? Dad, what happened?” She turned her back to the doorwoman. “Bao, should I come get you?” “No, there’s no need.” She had to make excuses for her date with Tong. “Miss Tan came the day before yesterday, told us to stay put. Don’t worry, Lily is with me.” “Promise us--do not go to the streets.” “I promise.” She heard him cough. Her mother had tried every means to make him quit smoking, but none lasted more than five days. “Are you okay, Dad?” “Some said 20,000 died, some said 5,000, some said 900.” His voice was hoarse. “CCTV said about a handful of civilians, nobody died in the Square.” “Any students?” “No. Only thugs, rioters, looters, riffraff.” “That’s what they call them.” She tried to blink away tears. “The CCTV anchors, Xue Fei and Du Xian, wore black suits. Du Xian was in tears. Sure you don’t want to come home?” “I’m fine here. It’s only a fifteen-minute walk. I can manage anytime of the day.” She cleared her throat. “I promise I won’t go to the streets.” “Say hi to Lily. You can bring her here for supper.” “Later Dad. Oh, what happened to the Goddess?” “Toppled, like a piece of trash.” She hung up, paid for the call and returned to her room. She changed her bedsheet. The bloodstain was pinkish brown, like a peach blossom. She wouldn’t bring it home to wash. “Are you a soldier, asshole?” someone in the opposite dorm said. “Surrender your gun and ammo to the people.” Bao went to the windows and saw a man in an olive green uniform standing in the courtyard. He took off his broad-brimmed hat. “Excuse me,” he said with a northern country accent. “Where is Dorm Number Two?” “Are you visiting your girlfriend?” a man on the fourth floor asked. “My sister, actually.” “Man, that excuse is getting old,” someone on the second floor said. “Eat shit, dumb soldier!” She couldn’t tell where the voice came from. The male students seemed equally surprised. They rushed to the windows. “Let’s be civil, now. I’ve taken a whole day’s train ride to see my baby sister. Our parents are mighty worried that she--” “If bastards like you hadn’t opened fire, you wouldn’t have to worry about her safety.” The speaker was on the second floor, a scrawny man without a shirt. He pounded the desk with a wooden T-square. As he lifted his arm, black hair flashed under his armpit. “Murderer, leave the campus!” “Kill the assassin!” another man shouted. A bottle popped on the ground. Red ink splashed the gray sidewalk. Then newspaper and food scraps flew at the soldier. “You, cannon fodder, how dare you come here and seduce our sisters?” Someone on the third floor threw a thermos bottle. The soldier ducked, and it missed his head by a few inches. Shards of the glass liner glittered on the cement. “Retreat, you son of a turtle!” “Take no prisoners!” “Death is too good for you!” There was thunderous beating of enamel basins and furious table poundings. Bao watched with a hand on her throat. A girl appeared in the courtyard. “Stop it!” She ran to the soldier and held his hand. “He is my brother.” There was an awkward silence. The girl’s auburn skirt fluttered like the wings of a butterfly. “Whose side are you on, sister?” a gruff voice said. “I’m not your sister. Now listen, my brother wasn’t in Beijing, and neither were you. The well water does not intrude into the river water—mind your own business.” As she turned to leave, a basin of soapy water drenched her from head to toe. Her seersucker skirt stuck to her hips, and the white bra showed through her blouse. “What are you, animals?” “Get this, whore!” A pair of worn sneakers hit her shoulder. She would’ve fallen had her brother not held her tightly. She wiped her face and squared her shoulders. Before she could open her mouth, her brother grabbed her arms and dragged her into the female dorm. Small bottles flew out and rained down on the landing. “Get hold of yourselves!” The doorwoman stepped out and stood with arms akimbo. “If you continue to make a nuisance of yourselves, I’ll call security. From now on no man is allowed to visit the female dorm!” Groans rose from the male dorm. “Have mercy, auntie!” “Forgive me, I won’t make trouble anymore.” “How can we make this up to you, auntie? My roommates and I will sweep the landing for you.” “Shut your traps!” The doorwoman swatted the air. “If I hear more nonsense, you’ll be banned from this dorm.” As she returned inside, several men followed at her heels to sign in the visitor logbook. The janitor returned with her broom to sweep the garbage. In the courtyard, quilts were sunning on the nylon ropes strung between the sycamores. The sun hid its face, as dark clouds emerged like a curtain. A gust of wind shook the quilts and made them flutter. Students from both dorms rushed to collect their quilts. Their plastic slippers tapped crisply on the cement ground. “The storm is coming!” “About time!” “Yeah--” Young men stood at the windows and waved their arms. Quite a few bared their chests. They cheered when the wind rattled the windows and slammed the doors. A utility shelf fell, scattering enamel washbasins and causing tremendous echoes in the staircase. Bao shuddered as lightning ripped through the sky. A clap of thunder muted the cheering. She closed the windows. Raindrops splattered on the dusty glass and left muddy stains. “Goddamn it!” A man hurried to rescue his quilt. He wore only shorts and slippers, a cigarette dangling in the corner of his mouth. He grabbed his quilt and ran toward the dorm entrance. Upstairs came laughter, without any malice. Bao hoped the demonstrators found shelters on their march. * * * In the hallway of the male dorm Bao dropped off her bedsheet as a donation. A girl was cutting stencils. Two men printed leaflets, one of them nodding thanks to Bao. She quickened her steps toward the bathhouse, her heart pounding in her chest. The faint bloodstain on the sheet wasn’t offensive. They could overwrite it with a brush-pen and splatter red ink for effect. Since Bao wouldn’t join the demonstrations, her bedsheet, which would become a banner, was a heartfelt gift. At the bathhouse, she undressed and put her clothes inside a locker. She carried her washbasin to the shower. She turned on the hot water and twisted the cold water knob. Then she put her face in the warm stream. After washing her hair, she opened her eyes. Several young women stood nearby. One girl had stout thighs and a slim waist. Her belly bulged with folds of fat. As she scrubbed behind her ears, the flesh on her upper arms flapped and trembled. Another girl was shorter than Bao, with shoulder-length hair. Large pink nipples stood out on her breasts like peach blossoms. She parted her legs and reached down to wash her privates. Her hips tilted, while her free arm swung aside as if groping for something. She shook water from her head. Bao turned toward the tiled wall. She didn’t want to be caught staring. “Gu Bao.” She jerked her chin up and saw Miss Tan. Naked and dry, Miss Tan turned the water knobs. Water sprayed from her nozzle. “It’s a good day for a shower,” Bao said, “few people here.” “I always come after lunch.” Miss Tan closed her eyes as water splashed her face. “It’s never crowded.” Bao nodded, even though Miss Tan couldn’t see her. She’d never met Miss Tan in the bathhouse before. Miss Tan was tall, her breasts small and far apart. Her ribcage indented her torso as she threw back her head. Her hips were wide and bony. Her legs were long, graceful cylinders that joined her body at a triangle of black hair. Her buttocks were round and firm. Undoing her braids, she cut a sensual figure with long hair rippling down her back. When Bao started college a year ago, her father had used Miss Tan’s breakup with her boyfriend as a moral lesson. “Naturally a man wants to possess an attractive young woman,” he had said. “It’s her responsibility to stop his advance. If she gives herself to him once, her feminine mystique is lost in his eyes.” “Oops!” Miss Tan dropped the comb on the wet tile floor. Bao picked it up. “Here you go.” “Thank you.” Bao must’ve miscalculated their distance. Her hand touched Miss Tan’s breast when she handed over the comb. She blushed deeply, although Miss Tan didn’t notice the collision. “Aren’t you lonely?” Miss Tan said. “Most people left the campus.” Bao bent her arm to scrub her back. “You told us to stay.” “Now the situation is different.” Her voice dropped to a low whisper. “Go home. Classes won’t resume until further notice.” “I like the peace and quiet here.” Bao wanted to wash her vagina but was afraid to rouse suspicion. She rocked her body back and forth in hopes of catching the warm stream in her crotch. “Quietly I’ll leave you,” Miss Tan sang, “please wipe away your tears, dear.” Bao breathed a sigh of relief. The popular song, “Perhaps in the Winter,” was a hit on campus. “In the long nights, don’t cry for me, darling. The road ahead is desolate, please smile and say a blessing for me.” Miss Tan’s voice was supple and ripe. The water pouring down her face added to her air of dejection. “Walking in the rain and wind, I’m thinking of you. In the days without you, I’ll take care of myself. During the years without me, please look after yourself. You ask me when I’ll come home, I ask myself the same thing. Not yet, I don’t know when, but I think it’ll be in the winter.” The poignant song echoing in the shower gave Bao chills. Turning up the hot water, she stood with her back to Miss Tan, rubbed soap on her privates and rinsed quickly. No matter how long she showered, Tong’s semen clung inside her body. Women could never be pristine, their bodies like vessels for men to deposit their fluids. Even Miss Tan wasn’t afraid to express her heartache in the shower. Bao felt guilty for having called her an old maid. She turned off the water and said goodbye to Miss Tan. Bao dried herself and got dressed. Outside the breeze caressed her warm cheeks. She carried the washbasin on her hip and walked slowly. Men stared at her when they passed. Did she walk with a rolling gait? She had a new body, a part of her enjoyed it, and another part was ashamed and wanted to hide. Passing the male dorm, she glimpsed into the hallway. The bedsheet was still folded in the box. At her dorm entrance, Tong read People’s Daily framed in a window strung with iron wires. He turned toward her. “You went for a shower?” “What happened to your head?” She hadn’t hit him that hard last night. He touched the purple bruise on his forehead. “I had to keep order in Drum Tower Square. I asked for the afternoon off.” She waited for him to check in with the doorwoman. They went upstairs together. “Anyone hurt?” she asked. “I got spat on. I bathed before I came.” On the second-floor landing, Bao noticed a young woman carrying a large khaki bag. She knocked on a door. There was no answer, and she knocked on another. She might be a peddler. “Do you have nail polish?” Bao asked. The woman clutched her bag tightly. “I don’t know what you mean.” Her purple coat draped to mid-thigh. Her blue-checked pants and black platform shoes were brand-new. She could pass for a student. “My boyfriend likes to see my nails painted.” Bao led the way upstairs. “Come on now.” She wanted a stranger in the room to keep Tong from undressing her. The peddler looked around her carefully; there were no passersby. She followed Bao to her room. Country girls like her bought surplus rice coupons to sell on the black market. Buying and selling rice coupons was illegal. They always feared that the students would turn them in to the doorwoman; then all their goods and rice coupons would be confiscated. Bao shut the door and slid the washbasin onto the rack. “What colors do you have?” The peddler lined up small bottles: crimson, maroon, pink, orange, auburn, white, and clear. “This will look great on you.” She picked up the red bottle with its long neck. “If Miss Tan saw me wearing red nail polish, she’d think I turn into a tramp.” “You are a certified good girl.” Tong kissed her wet hair. “Certified by you.” Bao blushed as she heard herself. “Try one on, Miss.” Bao opened the clear bottle and brushed the nail polish on her pinky. When it dried, her nail looked glossy. “You like it?” “I don’t see anything.” He squinted his eyes. “Try pink.” Bao painted her thumb with pink nail polish and blew it to dry. “Pink is your color,” the peddler said. “It gives your nail a healthy shine. Your finger looks long and pretty.” Tong caressed her palm with an approving smile. “It’s too sexy.” Bao selected the pink and clear bottles. She wanted to get both. She’d wear pink to a dance, clear when she visited her parents, and dilute the pink with clear when she met with Miss Tan. “What’s the total?” “Fifteen pounds of rice coupons,” the peddler said. “Do you think I’m the staple food control office?” Bao said. “Fifteen pounds of rice can feed a teenager for a month.” “They aren’t cheap, Miss.” Tong took out his wallet, but Bao pushed his hand away. “Tell you what,” she said. “We’ll give you ten pounds.” “Only ten pounds?” The peddler’s face grew red. “What do you take me for?” She started packing her bag. Like lightning Bao grabbed her bag and pushed it against the table. “We can report you to the doorwoman,” she said. “If she comes here, you’ll get nothing. How would you like that?” She eyed Tong, who stood still as a log. “Why don’t you go downstairs?” “Please, Miss.” The fear in her face was real. Both she and Bao broke the rules, but Bao had nothing to lose. “What’re you willing to pay?” The peddler picked at the bag strap with her long, crimson nails. “Ten pounds.” “How about twelve?” “I need my rice coupons to eat.” “Here’s a yuan.” Tong pulled out a bill from his wallet. “Let’s call it fair and square.” “You’re not helping!” Bao glared at the peddler. “Ten pounds, or I’ll go downstairs right now.” “Fine, ten pounds then.” The peddler collected the rice coupons, packed her bag and left. Instead of descending the stairs, she went to another room to continue her sales. Evidently she was experienced, so Bao’s excitement subsided somewhat. “Was that necessary?” Tong said. “I would’ve bought whatever you liked.” “I can afford them, thank you very much.” Bao lined up the bottles. “You struck such a hard bargain. What if she sends the rice coupons to her relatives back home?” “Don’t be naïve. She may be the fiftieth peddler who’s been here. Did you see her purple coat? She must’ve bought it at a boutique store.” “You know she has to dress like a student.” “I can’t afford to buy a matching outfit. Did you see her gold necklace? If my mom saw me wearing one, she’d ask how I spent the money she gave me to buy an English dictionary.” He narrowed his eyes. “Is this really about the nail polish?” “Why do you care about her so much? Is she your sister?” She allowed herself to sound unreasonable. She didn’t know how else to carry on the argument. As long as they were fighting, he wouldn’t try to have sex with her. “Maybe you fancy her. You’re a dog, you said so yourself.” He folded his arms upon his chest. For a while he was lost in thought. “You think you’re better than her, don’t you?” “Excuse me? I said I’m poorer.” She pretended to be stubborn, though she understood him perfectly. “You aren’t poor, considering that you don’t work. You get paid thirty-two pounds of rice a month, the peddler gets none. The dorm isn’t a great place to live, but it’s free.” His voice softened. “I wouldn’t mind living here myself.” “You might have if you hadn’t slept with . . .” The disdain in his eyes made her fall silent. “I didn’t know you’re a snob.” Angry tears welled up in her eyes. Why couldn’t she feel superior to a peddler who made her living by illegal dealings? If she was a campus belle with many admirers, he humbled her by possessing her body. How low did he want her to sink so that she could please him? “Gu Bao in Room 310,” the doorwoman called downstairs. “Your mom’s on the phone. Are you there, Gu Bao?” “Yes!” Bao leaned out of the windows. “Ask her to hold!” She grabbed her wallet and ran outside. She nearly bumped into a girl coming up. She jumped the last few steps and skipped to grab the phone. “Hello?” There was no response. “Mom?” “Bao, thank goodness. When will you come home?” Bao glanced at the ceiling. She mustn’t cry, her mother would hear her. “In a couple of days.” “Why not tonight?” “I am—Lily wants my company.” “Is she still there?” “Yes, she’s frightened.” Bao sniffled for effect. “It is so horrible--” “Baby, stay inside the dorm and don’t go anywhere. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t gossip, either. The activists will be arrested soon.” “But we’re so sad--” “I know, I know. I wish you’d come home tonight. I made sauté field snails.” Her mouth watered. “How about Friday? I’ll come home for supper.” Out of the corner of her eye Bao saw the peddler walk down the stairs. She shifted the khaki bag to her other side, out of the doorwoman’s view. “Okay, we’ll see you Friday.” Her mother relayed the news to her father in the background. “Promise us--don’t go to any gatherings.” “I won’t, Mom. Don’t worry.” She hung up. “You, the one in the purple coat,” the doorwoman said. “Do you live in the dorm?” “Uh, I . . .” The peddler stepped aside. The doorwoman moved to block the exit. “Show me your student ID. No? Let me search your bag.” The peddler hoisted her bag onto her back. The middle-aged doorwoman grabbed hold of the khaki bag with surprising agility. As she started to unzip it, the peddler tried to push her away. They wrestled, arms intertwined. The peddler’s red nails sank into the doorwoman’s stout arms. “Let go now.” The doorwoman groaned. “I know your sort. Let go, before I call security!” Bao approached them. “How much is the call, auntie?” She took out her wallet. “Ten cents.” The doorwoman gritted her teeth. Her freckles were drowned in a deep blush. Bao pulled out five yuan, the largest bill in her wallet, and gave it to the doorwoman. “Don’t you have change? You see how busy I am.” “I can keep an eye on her for you.” Bao didn’t look at the peddler. “She went to my room for business. I was going to turn her in myself.” “Are you?” “She made me try her nail polish.” Bao showed her thumb and pinky. “When she asked me for rice coupons, I was ready to report her to you.” “All right, close the doors for me.” Bao did as told. The peddler was trapped in the lobby. The doorwoman told Bao to stand on her spot and guard the double doors. “I’ll get your change and call security.” She took Bao’s bill and headed for her office. “These peddlers have no regard for law and order!” Bao held the doorknobs with both hands. “Go ahead, auntie. I’ll stand guard.” Bao met the peddler’s eyes, wide with terror. She was not fond of the peddler. In fact she was upset that Tong had scolded her and stood up for a stranger. On the other hand, she hated to see a harmless business transaction cause a young woman to suffer more than her fair share. If the doorwoman had caught Bao having sex with Tong last night, she would’ve been in the peddler’s shoes, trembling with fear and waiting to be expelled. The doorwoman started to dial a number. Bao pulled away her hand and eyed the peddler. “Run!” she mouthed the word. The peddler froze, like a stunned rabbit. “Security?” the doorwoman said to the phone. The peddler raised her face as if waking from a dream. She dashed for the door, while Bao pretended to be thrown against the wall. “She’s gone!” Bao cried. “What?” The doorwoman stretched out her neck to look outside. For a moment, she seemed to want to throw down the phone and pursue the peddler. But the purple coat ran fast, the hem of the garment flying behind her like a tail. Her high heels thudded on the road. Soon she disappeared behind the male dorm. “I’ll alert the door guards. She can’t hide on campus forever!” The doorwoman pounded her desk with the handset. “But auntie, how will you describe her looks?” Bao saw red bruises on the doorwoman’s upper arm; no wonder she wanted vengeance. “She looks like one of us.” “Her nails! They’re blood-red!” “My political counselor paints her nails,” Bao lied. “In fact, she looks like the peddler. You’d think they’re sisters.” “Really? I’ve been a doorwoman for ten years and only seen a few girls use nail polish.” She opened the drawer to get change for Bao. “I know, but it’s the fashion of the day, and teachers can afford to buy it.” Bao eyed the phone lying face down on the desk. “They don’t carry their IDs. If you alert the door guards, they’d hassle young woman teachers who leave the campus. You know how busy political counselors are nowadays.” The doorwoman gave Bao her change, counting it twice. With a sigh she picked up the phone. “Never mind, the peddler escaped.” She hung up and frowned at Bao. “Why did you let her go?” “I did not, auntie!” Bao pulled up her sleeve, looking for a bruise. There was none, but her gesture won sympathy just the same. “She pushed me so hard against the wall my head spun. She’s a farmer from the countryside, and I couldn’t fight her off. You know how strong she is . . .” “Yes.” The doorwoman examined her own bruises. “Next time I see her, she’s done for.” “I’ll help you capture her.” Bao gave way to a man who signed the visitor logbook. She said goodbye to the doorwoman. “Thanks, kiddo. Better luck to us next time.” Bao pressed her lips together to conceal a smile. Dashing up the stairs in springy steps, she planned to tell Tong about her brave and charitable act, then he wouldn’t have the heart to call her a snob. She opened the door and saw his glum face. “Family emergency?” He stood with his hands in his pockets. “Mom wants me to go home. I said—Friday.” “Did you tell her why?” She shook her head. “When will you introduce me to your parents?” “Not yet.” “Be honest with me.” Tong turned toward the windows. “If you don’t want to see me anymore, I can leave.” She felt weak in her knees. “What, are you tired of me?” “If we don’t have a future together, why force ourselves onto each other?” He brushed her mosquito net with his fingers. “It’s no fun and doesn’t make sense.” “But you can’t leave, not after you . . .” She didn’t mean to cry, but tears streamed down her cheeks. “You’ll be a cad if you do.” “I’m a cad?” He chuckled. “Who looks down on whom?” “I . . .” Say something, she told herself, but no words came. She knew how pathetic she looked, for he turned his head to watch her. She felt ashamed for crying, like a spineless coward. Her face must be red and ugly, but he didn’t seem to mind. He came to hold her hand. “I’m sorry,” she said. “For what?” “Picking a fight with you.” She let herself be led to the bed. “I feel so useless. People died, murmured, police are making arrests, the Goddess was toppled. I’m with you. It feels so wrong enjoying ourselves when--” “Sweetheart.” He cupped her cheeks in his palms. She saw his tears welling up. “It’s over. There’s nothing we can do.” “There has to be something--” “Nothing, this is the tail end. If you’re reckless, you’ll get hurt badly.” She touched the bruise on his forehead. “Did you hurt someone today?” “You know me better than ask me this.” “Do I?” She looked at him a few times and finally mustered her courage. “You hurt me last night.” “That was--different.” He wrapped his arm around her waist. “When you’re in love, there’s give and take. We share pleasure and pain, because we’re one.” “It isn’t wrong?” “It’s the only right thing to do, especially now.” He lowered his face and wiped his eyes on her shoulder. She kissed his cheek and breathed in the pine scent of his aftershave. “I did a good thing today--I let the peddler go.” “How?” “The doorwoman caught her and I set her free. I’m not completely useless, you see.” “Did you do it for me?” She shook her head. “I’m not such a snob as you thought of me.” She undid two buttons on his shirt. “I chose you, didn’t I?” He shivered. “Do you love me?” She nodded, better to be pathetic than be abandoned. “You should know.” Once again tears flooded her eyes. “I do.” He reached into his pocket and produced a small packet. She began to undress him. She was nervous, and her fingers fumbled with his belt buckle. He moved as if to help her. “Be still,” she said. “I want to do it.” Finally they were naked. He rolled on the condom himself. “So you won’t get into trouble.” She opened her legs to invite him in, stay inside and play with her. Back to Top

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