Meng did not need to ask. “Got what you wanted, I assume,” he said.
Zhou Min, whose face was red, turned and shouted to the door, “Bring it in.”
A woman with large feet came in with a large traveling bag, from which she began taking things out and placing them on the dresser: a tin of Biluochun tea, two tins of vitamin C — enriched juice powder, a packet of shredded dried bamboo shoots, a bag of Ningxia wolfberries, and a packet of dried mushrooms.
“What’s this, Zhou Min?” Meng asked. “All for me?”
“It’s not much,” Zhou replied. “You’re working so hard on such a hot day, I thought you might like this. There is nothing here that will spoil a vegetarian diet. Thanks to your note, Meng Laoshi, I’m virtually assured of getting a job.”
“I told you Jing Xueyin was the one to see. That may be where she works now, but she once worked in the Editorial Bureau. People are eager to do things for her.”
Xia Jie, who had been asleep in the bedroom, called out from behind the curtain divider, “Zhou Min, you must have your head screwed on right! Your show of respect for Meng Laoshi is paying dividends.”
With a deprecatory laugh, Zhou Min said, “Are you still in bed? Don’t think I forgot you. I stopped at the Greenfield Jade Emporium to look at chrysanthemum jade bracelets. They had three, and I paid for one. But since they all had minor flaws, I told them to get me one that’s perfect. It will be ready for pickup in three days. I hope you’ll like it.”
“You’re quite the spendthrift,” she said, “spending more than you earn.”
This time Zhou Min just smiled.
Meng had already opened one of the juice powder jars and poured two glasses, one for himself and one for his guest; he was about to make one for Xia Jie when Zhou Min said, “I don’t drink juice, so give mine to your wife.”
“Whatever comes in my door belongs to me, and now I’m treating you,” Meng said before taking a glass into the bedroom, leaving Zhou Min to sip his. Just then the door curtain parted, and the woman who had brought in the gifts motioned to him.
“What are you sticking around for?” Zhou Min asked out in the yard. “You’ve done your job.”
“You owe me money.”
“I already paid you.”
“You paid for the merchandise, but I didn’t carry it all this way for nothing.”
“You expect to get paid for that short trip?” He handed her a ten-fen bill.
She refused to take it. “Do you think you’re sending off a beggar? Even they get more than this for their trouble.”
Zhou Min turned his pockets inside out to show that they were empty, sending her storming off muttering angry curses.
Zhou Min went back inside and said with a smile, “Miss Jing is a woman of class and elegance. The minute I laid eyes on her, I was so charmed I nearly decided not to give her the note. My palms were sweaty. She took me to the Editorial Bureau and introduced me to the editor-in-chief, even called the bureau chief out. I was told I’d get word in three days. She worked magic!”
“You don’t know the half of it. She may be only a section head, but in the Department of Culture, with the exception of her boss, no one dares underestimate her. Your teeth will chatter when I tell you that the current deputy party secretary in charge of provincial cultural affairs once worked for her father, and the current Propaganda Bureau chief was her father’s secretary. The old man has been reassigned from Shaanxi to an official position in Shanxi. He may not be here physically, but while the tiger may leave the mountain, as they say, its influence lingers on.”
When Meng was finished, Zhou Min said, “Ah, now I know. If I’m not mistaken, Jing Xueyin was one of Zhuang Laoshi’s old flames.”
“How did you know that?”
“Once Zhuang became famous, anecdotes about him made the rounds in Tongguan. I used to think they were tall tales, but now I see they must be true. When she saw the note, she said, ‘Zhuang Zhidie thinks too much of himself, sending a note instead of coming himself.’”
“What did you say to that?” Meng asked.
“I told her, ‘Zhuang Laoshi is busy writing a novel, but he said he’d find time to come see you.’ ‘See me?’ she said. ‘An old hag like me?’” Zhou ended with an embarrassed laugh. “Meng Laoshi, everything seems to have gone so smoothly I’m worried that Zhuang Laoshi will be unhappy with us.”
“That’s why I was rushing to finish a review of his work.”
Zhou Min expressed his gratitude, and they continued to chat until the clock struck midnight, when he said his good-byes.
. . .
Tang Wan’er knew that Zhou Min was out looking for work, since she hadn’t seen him all day, so she warmed up the leftover noodles before taking a hot shower, rinsing out her mouth, and changing into a perfumed bra and panties to reward him on his return. But she waited and she waited, finally sitting up in bed to read. It was quite late when she heard footsteps at the door. She quickly lay down, covered her face with the book, and pretended to be asleep. When Zhou Min knocked at the door, it swung open on its hinges, unlocked. He saw that the bedside lamp was on, but she made no noise, so he carefully lifted off the book and saw that she was asleep. He stood there for a moment drinking in the scene, then leaned over and gently kissed her on the mouth. She surprised him by opening her mouth and clamping her teeth around his tongue.
“So, you’re awake! What’s the idea of lying here half-naked with the door unlocked?”
“I’ve been waiting here, hoping to be visited by a man with rape on his mind!” she said.
“Don’t talk like that,” Zhou Min said. “Can’t I even be gone one day?”
“Well, at least you’re aware that you’ve been gone so long!”
He told her that Meng Yunfang had written an introductory note to Jing Xueyin, and that the job was all but assured. Thrilled by the news, she got up and went into the kitchen half-dressed to warm up his dinner, then sat and watched him eat. When he was finished, she drew water for him to wash up, even before clearing the table. Off went the light, and the two of them climbed into bed to make love. ☐☐ ☐☐ ☐☐ [The author has deleted 313 words.]
“What does Jing look like?” Wan’er asked afterward. “She’s a lucky woman to be on such intimate terms with Zhuang Zhidie.”
“You have nicer skin; she has wrinkles. And ugly feet. But she has a commanding presence and speaks with authority. She impressed me as a woman who likes to flirt.”
Wan’er pushed his head away because of his smoker’s breath. “Show me a woman who doesn’t!” she said.
“Meng says she gets high marks from men, but that she has no female friends.”
“I’m not surprised,” Wan’er said. “She’s obviously been spoiled by men, which of course boosts her ego. Sooner or later, most women like that turn into shrews. But a highborn woman with a decent upbringing can wrap men around her finger and give nothing in return. How does it go — wolves don’t eat their young, and there’s safety in numbers.”
“You’re quite a know-it-all, aren’t you, you sly fox? But Tongguan is no Xijing. If she’s what you say, how could a note from Zhuang Zhidie have such an effect on her?”
“Hard to say. But take my word, you don’t want to get on the wrong side of a woman like that. People do things for her, and don’t dare do things to her. Now that you’ve gotten some help, spend more time with Meng Yunfang. That way he’ll be the one Zhuang Zhidie goes to see if he’s angry that his name was used on the note.”
Then Zhou Min told her about his plan to give Xia Jie a jade bracelet — one of Wan’er’s, as it turned out — but only one. That was met with silence, so, he leaned over to kiss her body. She pushed him away.