9
Sensei, I’m ashamed to say that I haven’t even started to write the play you’ve been patiently waiting for. There’s just so much material I feel a bit like the dog that wants to bite Mount Tai, but doesn’t know where to start. When I’m thinking about the play, something related to the theme and rich with possibilities will crop up in my life and interrupt my train of thought. But what has made it especially hard is my inadvertent involvement in a very troublesome matter. I don’t know how to extricate myself, or, more precisely, how to play the role expected of me.
Sensei, I think you’ve already guessed what that is. What I revealed to you earlier was not fantasy, but actual fact: Little Lion has admitted that she stole my tadpole-like sperm and implanted them in the body of Chen Mei, who is now carrying my child. That made my blood boil, and I slapped her hard out of uncontrollable rage. I know that was wrong, especially since someone who claims to be a playwright ought not to be guilty of such savage behaviour. But, I tell you, Sensei, I was out of my mind with anger.
After returning from my raft ride with Young Flathead, I did some investigating of my own. Each time I went to the bullfrog farm I was turned away by their security guards, so I tried phoning Yuan Sai and my cousin, but they both had new cell phone numbers. I demanded an answer from Little Lion, who just mocked me and called me crazy. I printed out the surrogate mother details from the bullfrog company’s website and took them to the municipal family-planning committee. They took my report, but nothing came of it. I next went to the police, where I was told this was not in their jurisdiction. I tried the mayor’s hotline, and was told that my report would be on the mayor’s desk. That’s how it went for the next few months, Sensei, and by the time I finally got the truth out of Little Lion, the foetus in Chen Mei’s belly was six months along. And so a fifty-five-year-old man was muddling along on the path to becoming another infant’s father. Unless the dangerous and cruel ingestion of a drug ended the pregnancy, my fatherhood was a done deal. That is how, as a young man, I’d caused the death of my first wife, Renmei, the most painful thing I’d ever done, a sinful act for which I may never achieve atonement. Now, even if I harden my heart, Sensei, it won’t make any difference, because I’ve been refused entry into the farm, and even if I managed to get inside, they wouldn’t let me see Chen Mei. I’ll bet there’s a labyrinth of secret passages there, an underground maze, not to mention the probability, according to Little Lion and my own suspicions, that Yuan Sai and my cousin are underworld figures. If you push them, there’s nothing they’re incapable of — family or strangers, it wouldn’t make any difference.
My slap sent Little Lion stumbling backward. She sat down hard and her nose bled. Not a sound from her for a long moment; instead of crying, she gave me a cold sneer. That was a good one, Xiaopao, she said, you thug! If that’s what you’re capable of, then a dog has eaten your conscience. I did this for you, she said. You have a daughter, but no son, and you should have an heir. I’ve long regretted not being able to give you a son, and having someone else bear your child is the only way I can make that up to you. A son will carry on your bloodline, extend your family for future generations. But instead of thanking me, you hit me. I’m crushed.
Then she cried, her tears merging with the blood from her nose, a sight that broke my heart. I was the one with the broken heart, but the anger rose in me again — for something this important, she should have told me.
I know you’re unhappy over the sixty thousand yuan I spent, she said between sobs. You needn’t worry, I’ll pay that out of my retirement money. And you won’t have to care for the baby, I’ll do that. All in all, this has nothing to do with you. I read in the paper that they give a hundred yuan each time to sperm donors. I’ll give you three hundred for being a donor, and you can return to Beijing. Divorce me if you want, or not. Either way, this has nothing to do with you. But, she wiped her face and said in the tone of a martyred warrior, if you’re thinking of stopping the birth of this child, I’ll kill myself in front of you.
Sensei, you have seen in my letters what kind of woman Little Lion is. When she was travelling all around with Gugu, encountering all sorts of people, she developed a disposition I’d have to call half heroic — half thuggish. The woman is capable of just about anything when she’s provoked. It was up to me to find the best way to deal with this thorny problem, but with affection and reason.
The thought of inducing labour did cross my mind, but that gave me a cold, ominous feeling; and yet, it seemed to be the ideal solution. It was clear to me that money was the only reason Chen Mei would carry someone else’s baby, so why not use money to solve the problem? That struck me as perfectly logical. The hard part was finding a way to see Chen Mei.
I hadn’t seen her since that meeting in Chen Bi’s hospital room. Her figure covered by a black dress, her face hidden behind a black veil, and her mysterious comings and goings convinced me that a world of mystery existed right here in Northeast Gaomi Township, a world populated by errant knights, psychics, and some who conceal their faces.
I thought back to a short time before, when I’d given Li Shou five thousand yuan to help pay Chen’s hospital bill, and asked him to pass it on to Chen Mei. A few days later, Li returned the money to me, money Chen Mei refused to take. Maybe, I thought, she is carrying other people’s babies to earn what she needs to pay her father’s bill herself. Now my thoughts were going every which way — this is nothing but… damn you, Little Lion! All I could do was go see Li Shou, since he had the best mind among all us classmates.
We met in a corner of the Don Quixote café yesterday morning, when the square was crawling with people gathered to watch the performance of Unicorns Deliver the Babies. The fake Sancho Panza brought us two glasses of beer and wisely made himself scarce, his ambiguous smile a sign that he guessed what we were talking about. When I stammered my problem to him, Li Shou had a good laugh.
You’re making fun of my bad luck, I said, showing my displeasure.
He held out his glass and clinked it against mine, then took a big drink. You call yours bad luck? he exclaimed. It’s wonderful news. Congratulations! A son in old age, life’s great joy!
Don’t mock me, I said anxiously. I may have retired, but I’m still a public servant, and how am I supposed to deal with the organisation if I have another child?
Why talk about the organisation, or your job assignment, old friend? You’re tying yourself up with your own rope. What you’re looking at is, your sperm and an egg have come together to create a new life that will come crying into the world. The greatest joy in life is watching the birth of a child who carries your genes, because that is an extension of your own life —
The problem is, I cut him off, where will I go to get this new life registered?
How can you let a little matter like that bother you? That’s all in the past. These days, there’s nothing money won’t buy. Besides, even if you can’t get him registered, he’ll still be a living human being, with all the rights every human being enjoys.
Enough, my friend, I came here for help and all I get is empty talk. Since I’ve been back I’ve discovered that all you people, educated or not, talk like stage actors. Where’d you learn that?
He laughed. We live in a civilised society, and in a civilised society everyone is an actor — film, TV, drama, crosstalk, sketch — we’re all acting. Don’t they say that all the world’s a stage?
Please, no more crazy talk, I said. Come up with something. You don’t want me calling Chen Bi father-in-law, do you?