Jintong fought to step out of her grip, but she reached up and grabbed his belt, tugging so hard she snapped it and pulled down his pants. When he bent down to pull them up, she wrapped her arm around his neck and her legs around his waist. In the grappling that ensued, she somehow managed to undress him. Once that was done, she tapped him on the temple; his eyes rolled back into his head and he lay flat on the floor like a beached fish. Commander Long nibbled every inch of Jintong’s body, but was unable to release him from his terror. Enraged by her failure, she ran back into the adjoining room, grabbed her pistol, tucked the barrel between her legs, and shoved two yellow bullets into the chamber. Then, pointing the weapon at a spot below his belly, she said, “There are two paths open to you. You can get it up, or I’ll shoot it off.” The glare in her eyes was all the proof he needed to know that she was serious. The iron-hard breasts were bouncing around on her chest. Once again Jintong watched as her face lengthened and a bushy tail emerged behind her, slowly, until it reached the floor.
Over the drizzly days that followed, Commander Long did everything possible, from encouragement to threats, day or night, to make a man out of Jintong. In the end, she failed, and by then she was spitting blood. In the final moments before she turned her gun on herself, she wiped the blood from her chin and said sadly, “Long Qingping, ah, Long Qingping, you’re still a virgin at the age of thirty-nine. Everyone knows what a hero you are, but no one realizes that you’re also a woman, and that your life has been wasted…” She coughed and hunched her shoulders; her dark face paled, and, with a loud cry, she spit out a mouthful of blood, driving the soul right out of Jintong, who stood with his back flattened up against the door. Tears ran down Long Qingping’s face as, with a look of resentment in her eyes, she crawled on her knees to him, raised her pistol, and put the muzzle against her temple. Not until that moment did Jintong finally comprehend the seductiveness of a woman’s body. Raising her elbow to reveal the fine hairs under her arm, she sat down on her heels, as a cloud of golden smoke burst in front of his eyes. The cold spot between his legs suddenly swelled with heated blood. The inconsolable Long Qingping pulled the trigger – if, at that moment, she had glanced back, the tragedy would have been averted – and Jintong saw a puff of burnt ocher smoke emerge from her temple hair as the dull crack of a pistol sounded. Her body rocked briefly before she crumpled onto the floor. Jintong rushed up and turned her over, exposing the black hole in her temple, circled by tiny blue particles of gunpowder; dark blood oozed from inside her ear and ran down his fingers. Her eyes were open, still showing traces of her grief. The skin of her chest was still twitching, like ripples on a pond.
Jintong held her in his arms, overcome by remorse, and granted her final wish as her life slipped away. Finally, he climbed off her, utterly spent; the sparks of light in her eyes died as her lids descended. A pall of gray settled in his head as he gazed at her now lifeless body. Outside, a torrential rain fell, a blinding gray that entered the room in waves and swallowed up both their bodies.
5
Shangguan Jintong was taken into the chicken coop for interrogation. His bare legs seeped in rainwater that cascaded in over the eaves, flooded the compound, and crashed against the roof. Ever since that moment between him and Long Qingping, the rain had been unending, letting up briefly, only to start up again harder than ever.
The water nearly reached his knees. Wrapped in a black raincoat, the security section chief was squatting on his chair. Two days and nights of questioning had produced no results. The man was a chain-smoker; the water around him was peppered with water-soaked cigarette butts and the air was suffocating with acrid smoke. Rubbing his bloodshot eyes, the section chief yawned from exhaustion, as did the official recorder. Then he picked up a notebook from the wet desktop and stared at the smudged writing. Reaching out and grabbing Jintong by the ear, he barked, “Did you rape her first and then kill her?” Jintong stood there weeping, but with no more tears to shed. “I didn’t kill her,” he repeated, “and I didn’t rape her…”
“You don’t have to tell me,” the section chief said, running out of patience. “But a medical expert from the county will be here soon, and he’s bringing attack dogs with him. Tell me now, and that will count as a voluntary confession.”
“I didn’t kill her,” he said one more time, sleepily, “and I didn’t rape her.”
The section chief took out a pack of cigarettes, crushed it, and tossed it into the water. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he said to the recorder, “Go to the farm headquarters building, Sun, and place a call to the County Security Bureau. Tell them to get over here as soon as possible.” He sniffed the air. “The body’s starting to stink, and if they don’t come soon, our investigation will be ruined.”
“Boss,” the man said, “are you crazy? I tried calling the day before yesterday and couldn’t get through. The rain has washed away telephone poles.”
“Shit!” the section chief cursed as he jumped down off of his chair, put on his rain cap, and waded over to the door, where he stuck out his head to look around. A roaring curtain of water drenched his shiny back as he ran over to the site of Jintong and Commander Long’s illicit liaison. Out in the yard, clean and dirty water merged, with dead chickens floating on the surface. The few surviving hens were perched atop the wall – heads tucked down, clucking piteously. Jintong had a splitting headache and his teeth were chattering. His mind was a blank, except for the movements of Commander Long’s nakedness. After impulsively entering her dying body, he had experienced terrible remorse, but now all he felt toward her was loathing and disgust. He struggled to break free of her likeness, but, as with Natasha years before, it stuck doggedly in his mind. The difference was that Natasha was a beautiful young image, while Commander Long was a repulsive, demonic one. At the moment he was dragged out to be interrogated, he made up his mind not to reveal the ugly details of what had happened. I didn’t rape her, and I didn’t kill her. She tried to force herself on me, and when I resisted, she killed herself. That’s all he would reveal under the pressures of the relentless questioning.
The security chief returned and shook the water off of his neck. “Damn!” he exclaimed. “She’s all bloated. Like a debristled hog. Disgusting.” He pinched his throat.