‘It looks like I’ll have to wear your sweater to the show. It’s so embarrassing. Shunyu is sure to laugh at me.’
‘She’ll just be jealous that you’re wearing your boyfriend’s clothes…’ He kissed her. ‘Ever since Shunyu went into the Plum Party, it’s as if she’s been brainwashed.’
‘She’s still herself. If we don’t go abroad, let’s apply to join the Party too. What do you think?’
‘I won’t. I’m a poet. Poets have to be independent and free, without connections to friends or parties…But of course, I won’t object to whatever you decide to do.’
‘I guess I can’t put it off. To tell the truth, for scientific research, the environment overseas is a hundred times better. If our country were rich and powerful, everyone would be scrambling to come here. We wouldn’t need to go anywhere else.’
The sun fell on top of the acacia tree. A bird with a white head twittered in the trees. Patches of sunlight and bird droppings filled the courtyard.
A scarlet curtain was draped across the stage, with several spotlights shining on it. The café offered an array of snacks. The waiter moved to and fro between the tables, adding water to the teapots. After finding a good seat, Qizi downed half of her tea in one gulp. Mengliu focused on the playbill. It read Lady Zhaojun.
Just as he asked why Shunyu had not yet arrived, he looked up to see her lifting the bead curtain at the entrance and walking through it to meet them. She wore a Chinese-style outfit topped with a thin jacket lined with embroidery. It made her look like one of the actors.
From behind the curtain on the stage, the big gong boomed, accompanied by tinkles on the smaller gong, marking the beginning of the performance. They watched the actor spin in a full scarlet cloak, pheasant feathers in her hand, her arms snowy white and her costume shimmering. They were captivated by the glamorous apparel.
But that was all there was to it. Before long, the spectacle became boring.
‘Traffic in Beiping has been blocked and the city is practically in a state of siege. I made a detour on a trishaw to tell you the news. Reports on the double-tracked wall say that people in the square will soon pass out from hunger. They are in urgent need of bread and water.’ Shunyu leaned in toward the centre of the table and whispered. ‘The troublesome shit…Maybe there really is a monster out there.’
Qizi waited for the actor to finish singing the line, ‘Even a huge pool of civilians is no use, and all the generals fight in vain,’ then asked whether anyone had sent food over. Shunyu said she didn’t know. She had finished reading the news on the wall and then come straight to the theatre.
The actress held a horsewhip and walked swiftly onstage. She struck a pose, her gaze determined and the pheasant feathers in her hair quivering ceaselessly.
Mengliu, pretending to be very committed, would have rather stayed where he was and be bored than go and plunge into the events in Round Square.
‘Are they all from the Wisdom Bureau?’ Qizi rolled the playbill up into a cylinder, using it like a telescope.
‘Most are. My father said something really bad is going to happen.’
The actor sang to the climax, struck a pose, and won loud applause from the audience. When the scene came to an end, the scarlet curtain closed. The café burst into a small commotion.
The curtain reopened to the pathos of an erhu being played over a snowy background. At this point, Qizi and Mengliu abandoned Shunyu and left the theatre.
‘When we go abroad, don’t get any funny ideas — not even out of curiosity — about those foreign girls. You can look once, or at most twice, and for no longer than two seconds. If it’s more than two seconds, it means you’ve got some funny ideas in your head. If you’ve got those ideas, then just go with them. I won’t stop you. But it’ll be over between us.’
Clumps of trees grew by the roadside. A well-proportioned foreign girl, fresh as spring, walked by with her breasts showing in a provocative fashion. Qizi, watching her as she passed one tree after another, elbowed Mengliu and said, ‘Hey! Did you hear what I said?’
‘You’re telling me what isn’t allowed, while you’re blatantly doing what I’m not supposed to do. Whatever you look at I can look at too.’ He purposely stared at the foreign girl for a good while longer. ‘Well…she’s still not as cute as our girls.’
‘No double talk from you. I should wring your neck.’
‘I’m just trying to make a responsible, detailed observation. If I don’t look carefully, how can I give an accurate analysis?’
‘You’re such a horny little thing.’
‘If I wasn’t horny, how would I have been attracted to you?’
When they got back to the West Wing, Mengliu pulled a wallet from underneath his mattress, took out a few notes, thought for a second, then took out the whole lot, saying he would have to tighten his belt for a while. He put the money into his pocket, took Qizi by the hand, and they went to the supermarket to buy bread and water. From there, they went straight to Round Square.
Wherever they looked, the streets were packed with people. There was garbage all over the place.
A banner hung on a truck painted in bright colours. It read, ‘Brothel Support Group’. The bed of the truck was filled with prostitutes, all richly attired and heavily made up. They leaned over the sides, waving colourful handkerchiefs and calling cheekily, ‘Come on, gentlemen! If you’ve got money, spend it. If you have strength, then spend that. It’s all in support of the Wisdom Bureau. Come on now!’
At the same time, they distributed scented flyers. ‘The faeces issue is a hoax. The people demand the truth…Protest by petition, not by violence.’
A voluptuous prostitute hung onto Mengliu and said earnestly, ‘Mister, dedicate your passion to the cause. Fifty kuai each time. Just put your money in the donation box…We can do it in the cab…Or we can go to a hotel if you want.’
‘Er, just fifty…to support…’ Embarrassed, Mengliu remained deeply affected as he walked on. It took him a long time to settle down again. His mind kept going back to the prostitute’s words. Why did she say it was in support of the Wisdom Bureau? Could it be that the Bureau had taken an important role in the rally?
As he pondered, he ran across another team, the ‘Writers’ Support Group’. In direct contrast to the prostitutes, they sat smoking, chatting, and casually wiling away their time amongst themselves.
One young fellow sporting a red bandana was carrying a banner across his body that practically screamed, ‘I am Yuan Mengliu!’
Mengliu walked over and asked, ‘Are you really Yuan Mengliu?’
The fellow ignored him.
Mengliu said, ‘I’m Yuan Mengliu.’
The guy took a long, disdainful look at him. ‘Dude, stop pretending! Just take the opportunity to have a good time.’
Mengliu and Qizi exchanged glances, then burst into laughter.
As they made their way through the crowd, it parted like water, then closed again.
In the square, Hei Chun stood, dressed in a black trench coat and with his legs splayed. His hair was tied in a ponytail, revealing the word ‘love’ written across his forehead in red ink. As the ink dripped down his face like blood, he recited his new poem.
It’s time, young people,
to let loose and sing!
Take your pain, your love
and spill it all on the page.
Don’t hide your feelings of injustice