Chinese literature

Chapter One

The golden rays of the rising sun pierced the light smoky mist that hung over the Yangzi River, dispersing it to reveal the blue-green of the mountain peaks on either shore. The east wind played a soft, enchanting melody. The muddy waters of the Yangzi gradually plunged through the narrow gorges, now and then producing a bevy of small whirlpools in its wake.

An indistinct growl, like the roar of a great animal, issued forth from behind the wall of mountains upstream. After a few minutes it grew into a long, proud bellow, transforming itself into a thun- dering echo between the cliffs on the two sides of the river. A light green steamship burst majestically through the remaining fog, sail- ing effortlessly downstream. In an instant, the heavy rumbling noise of its engine swelled up on the surface of the river.

It was the renowned steamship Longmao, which plied the Si- chuan waters of the Yangzi River. On this day it had pulled up an- chor at dawn in Kuifu and was rushing to make the journey to Yichang by two or three in the afternoon. Although it was only eight in the morning, the ship was already packed to the rails with third-class passengers who had come up for a breath of fresh air. The passageway outside the dining hall on the uppermost deck was not as crowded. In fact, there were only two women leaning against the green iron railing, looking out into the distance at the magnificent, clear view of the Wu gorges.

They stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the bow of the ship. One, her body slightly turned at the waist, her left forearm leaning on the railing, looked about twenty years old. She wore a pale-blue

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r 2 soft satin waist-length blouse, beneath which a long black skirt that billowed out in the wind accentuated the elegance of her slender and graceful body. She had short hair. Two jet-black wisps of hair brushed the cheeks of her oval face, complementing a pair of long, thin eyebrows, a straight nose, two teasingly beautiful eyes, and small, round lips. She displayed all the characteristics of a flawless Oriental beauty. Ifviewed from behind, she appeared to be the es- sence of tenderness. But her eyes revealed a vigorous and straight- forward spirit. And her small mouth, which was usually tightly closed, gave proof of her resolute disposition. She was the kind of person who knew her goal and never turned back.

Her companion was a short, fat, middle-aged woman. Her face was not unattractive, but her thick lips drooped at the corners, im- parting an air of gloom to her appearance. Her clothes were of high-quality material, but their style was old-fashioned. Her feet had once been bound but were now released from their confine- ment. Encased in black boots that were too large, their humplike deformity looked like two round balls. Next to the long, narrow natural feet of her young companion, they looked quite miserable and pathetic.

The two did not speak to each other. The grandeur of the scen- ery had long since cleansed their minds of all thoughts. Their hearts were empty, free of concerns, intoxicated by the vastness of the natural beauty surrounding them.

The boat's whistle shrieked once again. Far off in the distance a cliff intruded on the landscape, blocking the river and piercing the sky. The river cut through the tall peaks that lined both banks. They seemed to form two towering natural dikes, barring any pos- sibility of continued forward passage. The sun shone like a ray of gold, sparingly clothing only the tops of the high peaks in its bril- liance, leaving the mountain below a carpet of dark green. The boat continued to push unswervingly forward, its whistle blasting with ever more urgency. The cliffs that all but obstructed the river moved gradually toward the two women, higher and higher, more and more imposing, the luxurious growth of trees halfway up their sides becoming faintly visible.

"This is only the first of the twelve peaks of Wushan." The middle-aged woman, as she addressed her companion, nodded her head with an air of self-importance and such vigor that the large

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but loosely fastened bun anchored to the back of her skull bounced back and forth as if about to fall off.

The young woman replied with a smile, turning her head to avoid the foul odors that emanated from the large bun. Slowly she took a step forward, concentrating even more intently on the vista ahead. The precipice rushing toward her was now so close she could no longer see its tip. Clusters of jade-green cedars spread like a belt diagonally across the middle of the mountain. Below, thrust directly into the water, were reddish-brown rocks dotted here and there with climbing plants. All of this, this screen of mountains, grew slowly larger, moved slowly closer. Then, sud- denly, it shuddered and gently turned around, as if to show offan- other aspect of its glory.

Bu. . .hong! The whistle gave a joyous cry, and the boat navigated the bend in the river. On the right the mountains that had been soaring to the heavens moved out of the way; once again the lim- itless waters of the Yangzi rushed between the mountain peaks.

"That's just like the Yangzil From a distance it looks impassable. It's only when you get there that you see there's a way through. Who knows how many bends like this there are. Miss Mei, this is your first time. You must find it very interesting indeedl" the middle-aged woman called out loudly from behind. Unfortunately, the east wind was so strong that her words of experience were scat- tered with it. Mei, who was gazing absentmindedly at the eastward-flowing Yangzi, did not hear a thing.

The unbelievable beauty of the Wu gorges had deeply moved her. She thought of her own past. It, too, had been so treacherous, so quick to change. It, too, had had its dead ends and rebirths. Light and darkness were interwoven into the fabric of her life. She had already courageously made it halfway through. What would the rest be like? This puzzle called the future! Mei had no fanta- sies. Yet neither was she pessimistic. She was simply waiting, qui- etly, like a boxing master who has established his position and is waiting for his opponent. Hardship was deeply branded on this young life.

Quite a few people probably envied her life. But she herself still saw her past as worthy of the word "vicissitude:' During the last four years she had begun to attract people's attention as a "prom- inent member of the nouveaux riches." In west and south Sichuan

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everyone knew of Miss MeL She was no ordinary girl. She was like a rainbow. But she had never wanted her life to be like this, nor was she happy this way. She simply charged forward with the spirit of a warrior, doing what circumstance dictated. Indeed, her special talent was "charging forward." Her only ambition was to overcome her environment, overcome her fate. During the last few years her only goal had been to rein in her strong feminine nature and her even stronger maternal instincts.

On bright spring days and sorrowful rainy nights, she would oc- casionally feel the ancient legacy of being female stirring in her heart. At such times she would stare into space, immersed in a flood of loneliness and remorse. It was also at times like these that she fell to lamenting her unfortunate fate and conjuring up a mil- lion regrets about the vicissitudes of her existence. Nevertheless her hardships had already cast her life into a new mold, and the whirlwind May Fourth Movement had already blown her thinking in a new direction. She could not look back. She could only strive to suppress and eradicate the traditional in her nature and adapt to a new world, a new life. She did not pause. She did not hesitate. She felt no contradictions.

The Yangzi was now struggling with difficulty to squeeze through the Wuxia Mountains. The river seemed a symbol of her past. But she hoped her future would be as open and surging as the Yangzi would be below the Kui Pass.

Mei could not suppress a smile. She turned her head and saw the middle-aged woman squinting at her, a reminder that the woman had been jabbering at her with that air of authority that older people so often displayed. Mei did not really like this com- panion, with her dejected look, but neither was she willing to needlessly offend her. Besides, as long as Mei did not have to smell that rancid hair, she didn't mind listening to the woman's preten- tious din.

"Mrs. Wen, the wind is strong. Aren't you scared?" Mei spoke cordially. Stepping daintily inside, she deliberately took a position upwind.

"What hardships and bitterness haven't these old bones known? How could I be scared of the wind? This spring when we demon- strated for women's suffrage, the wind was stronger than this and there was a raging rainstorm, too. That didn't scare me. Without

even opening my umbrella, I led the sisters to the provincial gov- ernor's office to make our demands."

Mrs. Wen spoke excitedly, the bun at the back of her head bob- bing unceasingly.

Mei pursed her lips to hold back a smile, all the while feigning total admiration.

"Why didn't you participate then, Miss Mei? Oh yes, you're the governor's private secretary, the trusted lieutenant of the boss. You're already an official. But Miss Mei, being an official isn't the same as suffrage. Suffrage is . . . "

As she reached this point, the woman paused for a moment and moved a bit closer to Mei in preparation for an extended harangue. Mei took a half-step back to guard her position upwind and adroitly interrupted the other woman: "I'm only the provincial governor's family tutor. What's all this about being a private secretary? That's just a rumor started by people who want to ridicule me. And that's not all people have been saying. It's better to just laugh it off. Mrs. Wen, you lost your husband as a young woman. You of all people should know that people with loose tongues like nothing more than to insult a woman, to spread reckless gossip."

Mrs. Wen's jowls twitched, but she did not reply. Any mention of her youth always depressed her. Nevertheless, her days of "fear- ing rumors" had long since passed. She was now a wholehearted member of the movement for political suffrage. Yet on the day they had rushed into the provincial assembly and she had heard the guards cursing her as an "old tigress on the prowl," for some reason her ardent spirit had flagged. Subconsciously, she thought back to the past indiscretion that had cast a shadow over her future. She felt that as a woman, the only prerequisite for taking a role in so- ciety was that she be pure and above reproach. In believing that a woman should remain ever faithful to one husband and never re- marry, she was of one mind with many of those who opposed the suffrage movement.

"The provincial governor advocates the new thought. On the question of relations between the sexes, he has some special views. No doubt Mrs. Wen has heard people speak of them?"

Seeing her companion's discomfort, Mei laughed and changed the direction of the conversation. But the term "relations between the sexes" was probably still very alien to the ears of this eloquent

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and ardent supporter of women's suffrage. She looked slightly puz- zled at Mei and did not answer. Mei winked knowingly and contin- ued, "This special viewpoint goes like this: a wife is a companion for life. A companion is a friend. The more friends the better!"

Suddenly the boat's whistle sounded again, two short spurts fol- lowed by a long, loud wail. The warning bell on top of the boat also began to clang wildly. Hiding in the hollows carved out,of the hills on both banks of the river, local bandits had begun firing guns in the direction of the boat. This happened quite often. Suddenly the boat was filled with the chaotic sound of passengers' footsteps. By the time Mei grabbed Mrs. Wen and ran to the passageway in front of the dining hall, she had already heard the intermittent and then continuous sounds of gunfire coming from the left. The first-class passengers, who had already arisen, were now pushing and shov- ing to be first to squeeze down the narrow stairway leading to the cabins below. One of the crew gestured at Mei and her companion to go below as well. Without thinking, Mei took a step forward, but her nose was instantly assaulted by the stench of Mrs. Wen's hair. She stopped.

"I'm not going down. A boat moving with the current goes very fast. Even bandits' bullets won't be able to reach us," Mei said with a slight smile.

She did not wait for Mrs. Wen's reply but walked sprightly through the dining hall to her own cabin, lay down on the bed, picked up a book, and began to read. As it happened, her cabin was on the right-hand side of the boat. The reflection of the sun flashed across the window. Mei got up, thinking to pull down the curtains, when she saw a wooden junk on the water unfurl its sails. It moved along the edge of the cliffand in an instant was gone. She listened carefully. The gunfire had stopped. She returned to her bed, lay down, and yawned. Her nights had been filled with dreams, her sleep unsettled. Once again this morning she had arisen too early. She felt very tired. Folding her hands under her head, she lay back on the pillow and closed her eyes.

The doorknob to the cabin turned softly. Mei opened her eyes lazily and saw Mrs. Wen standing in front of the bed. She must have been jostled by the crowd, for her bun was about to come apart. It drooped limply down the back of her neck, and her tem- ples were sticky with beads of sweat.

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"How dare those gangsters even open fire on foreign ships. Ai- yat But you're the bold one, Miss Mel. Bullets don't have eyes. It's not worth getting yourself killed." Mrs. Wen sank heavily onto the bed. She spoke breathlessly.

Mei smiled charmingly, sat up, walked to the window, and leaned over the dressing table. She considered advising Mrs. Wen to rearrange her bun, but in the end Mei changed her mind.

"The pity is it interrupted our conversation. Mrs. Wen, do you think what the governor said was correct?"

"Important people think differently from us common folk." A casual observer might have thought that Mrs. Wen was just

being polite, but her attitude was exceedingly earnest. Mei laughed faintly. She lifted her foot and lightly kicked the tassels on the lower part of the curtains with the pointed toes of her white leather high-heeled foreign shoes.

"But he said only that a wife is a companion for life, not that a husband and wife are companions for life."

Mrs. Wen opened her eyes wide in total incomprehension. "He now has five of these companions for life," Mei quickly con-

tinued. "He treats them very thoughtfully and equally, but he guards them jealously. You'd almost think he used eunuchs in that famous garden of his. It's practically his Afang Palace.?"

Mrs. Wen did not grasp the point of these words. But the num- ber five conjured up rumors she had heard and aroused her inter- est. "I've heard that some are extremely ugly. Is it true?"

This time it was Mei who did not entirely understand. But just as she threw Mrs. Wen a startled glance, Mei realized what her companion was referring to. With a laugh, she stretched and coldly replied, "There was one who once wrote a poem containing the lines, Td rather be concubine to a hero/than be the wife of a com- mon man: She'd probably qualify as the world's ugliest woman:'

The sun's rays outside the window abruptly fell into shadow, as if the boat had entered a tunnel of some kind. Mei craned her neck to see but noticed only an exceedingly tall cliff slowly receding, its peak hidden from view. Suddenly, suspended before her eyes were row after row of trees, both tall and short, their trunks straight and thin like those of the hemp. Mei drew back her head and looked at

*The Afang Palace housed the harem of the first emperor of the Qin dynasty (221-207 B.C.).

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Mrs. Wen's dazed expression. "One of the peculiarities of the general" of the Mang Palace," Mei added, "is that almost all his companions are kind of ugly."

A profound silence crept into the room. The normally talkative Mrs. Wen seemed to have been stricken speechless. She suddenly lay back on the bed and covered her face with her hands. Her fat, clumsy body and her unnaturally small feet all reminded Mei of that woman dwelling deep within the Mang Palace who would rather not be the "wife of a common man."

Images out of the past slowly began to congeal in Mel's mind, enveloping her consciousness like a veil of smoke. As in a dream, she was once again a family tutor in that large garden. She saw the familiar layout of manmade hills, the fish pond, and the Western- style gazebo. Ah! That unforgettable gazebo. It was there that she had refused the temptation of money and jewels. It was not that she did not like luxuries but that she valued her freedom more. Above all, she did not want to become a prisoner of the Afang Pal- ace. It was also there that she had come to know the jealousy that had been bred in women by thousands of years of dependence on men. The vision of a small round face with a pair of fierce triangu- lar eyebrows rushed into her mind. And then the smooth, shiny barrel of a Browning revolver, staring at her like the eye of some bizarre monster.

A barely audible snort of contempt rose up from deep within Mei, waking her out of her gloomy reverie. It was the same snort with which the yuanzhu bird in Zhuangzi's famous story replied to the owl who was cherishing his piece of rotting rat meat as if it were a precious jewel. ** In fact, the last lesson Mei had taught as a family tutor was that very fable, "The Owl Gets a Rotten Rat."

A faint snoring arose from the bed. Mrs. Wen had fallen asleep. Mei glanced out the window and then walked softly out of the

*Mei refers to the governor as a general because most provincial governors during this so-called warlord period of Chinese history were powerful command- ers of personal armies whose political role grew out of their military power.

**This is a reference to the section in Zhuangzi entitled "The Floods of Au- tumn" in which the philosopher chides the prime minister of the kingdom of Liang for fearing his job is coveted by the philosopher. He likens the prime minis- ter to an owlwho has just caught a rat and fears it will be stolen by the phoenix flying overhead. Just as the phoenix eats and drinks only the purest and most delicate foods and would not want the rat, Zhuangzi would have no interest in such a job.

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cabin, back to the passageway outside the dining hall. She sat down on one of the rattan chairs.

On both banks of the river, mountains so tall they had never been inhabited jutted out of the muddy waves and pierced the sky like two high walls. The steamship Longmao puffed asthmatically down the middle of the river. Every once in a while a junk or two appeared on either side, but they clung so closely to the cliffs that it seemed as if those aboard could stretch out a hand and pick the wisteria growing on the rocks. Below the distant towering cliffs ahead were several small wooden boats. Crowded together as if im- mobile in the narrow pass, they seemed to leave no space for the steamship to squeeze through. But only a few minutes later, with a triumphant blast of its whistle, the Longmao was hurrying past. Only then was it clear that the Yangzi was really wide enough for four steamships. The wake created by the steamship's propellers dashed against the shore, and the snail-like wooden boats clinging to the cliffs swayed like a gathering of drunken men.

Mei smiled as she looked at the wooden boats. She admired the great power of this machine and had no pity for the snail-like ob- jects being buffeted by the violence it created. She had complete faith in the huge monstrosity that carried her and was intensely conscious that this mammoth product of modern civilization would bring her to a new future. Although before her was a world un- imaginably strange, it was surely more vast and more exciting than anything she had known. Of this she was firmly and unalterably convinced.

But she had no illusions. The experience of the last four or five years had taught her three lessons: never long for the past, never daydream about the future, but seize the present and use all your abilities to cope with it. Her past was just like a boat moving through the Wuxia Mountains. She often saw precipices blocking her path, convincing her that there was no way out. But if she bravely and resolutely pressed on, she would always discover that the road ahead was actually very wide. Then as she went a little farther on, the cliffs would again loom before her, and a way out would seem even more remote. Ifat that point she had looked back from whence she had come, she would have seen that the moun- tains were already hidden by clouds. To look back on the past was unbearable. The future was indistinct and full of hazards. She

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could only seize the present and press forward with both feet planted firmly on the ground. She was a "disciple of the present."

A hot wind passed over her. The sun's rays danced on the water like myriad specks of gold. It was almost noon. Mei leaned back in the rattan chair and felt her eyelids grow heavy. Although the scen- ery before her was fascinating, it now made her feel somewhat weary. The endless river pressed between the barren mountains twisting and turning interminably as the torrents of water rushed ceaselessly forward, always promising new mysteries and yet al- ways the same. And amidst it all, the ever present triumphant, yet mournful, sound of the ship's whistle.

She slumped down in the chair, letting herself drowse off to es- cape the monotony. No thoughts of the past disturbed her peace, and no thoughts of the future came to arouse her emotions.

A waiter arrived to call her to lunch. She found out from him that it would be around three o'clock before they reached Yichang and concluded that this so-called fast steamship was no better than a slow boat after all. She wished she could cross the Kui Pass im- mediately. The closer they approached the Sichuan border, the more her impatience grew. To Mei, everything about Sichuan was narrow, small, meandering, just like the river Howing before her.

Mter lunch, taking advantage of a reprieve from Mrs. Wen's in- cessant chatter, Mei withdrew into the cabin to take a nap. She had long since found this leading member of the women's suffrage movement boring. Now Mei had begun to hate her. She hated her vulgar manners; she hated her extreme narrow-mindedness; she hated the way she put on airs to mask her base nature' she hated her extremely muddled ideas on .women's rights. '

Half consciously, she compared herself to Mrs. Wen. Then, sud- denly, Mei thought of what would happen after they reached Shanghai. She asked herself, "We are representatives, but as a group, what do we represent? How will we be able to accomplish our collective mission?" She could not but laugh. She admitted to herself that she had used her attendance at the National Student League conference as a pretext to evade the advances of that di- minutive warlord. She knew if she did not escape now, it would be difficult to avoid being forced into becoming one of the ladies of the Mang Palace. As to whether her companion, Mrs. Wen, also had personal motives for attending, Mei was even less inclined to speculate.

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All thought of sleep departed. From Mrs. Wen, Mei's mind wandered to recollections of other acquaintances. Xu, a good friend from middle school with whom she had kept in touch until two years ago, when she wasa teacher in southern Sichuan, leaped into her mind. "She's in Nanjing," Mei thought excitedly. And with this a multitude of disconnected memories streamed into Mel's head, finally driving her from her bed.

A rumbling sound arose from the deck. From outside the win- dow came the sound of swarming footsteps. Mrs. Wen stuck her head in through the window and shouted joyfully, "Don't you want to see the Kui Pass? We're almost there!"

Mei replied with a smile. The enthusiasm of the throng outside made her feel hot. She changed into a muslin blouse, wiped her face with a towel, and ran nimbly out to the passageway.

Lofty cliffs still stood on both banks, but now they were not so high and had begun to slope slightly. Behind them rose row after row of mountains, each taller than the ones before. The rays of the sun had now turned them a brilliant golden color. The wind had died down to a gentle breeze, as if it, too, had barely awoken from its afternoon nap.

The boat seemed to be moving more slowly. The splashing of the waves became more even. The whistle emitted a constant arrogant bellow like the cries of the heralds in ancient times who ordered the people to make way for an approaching official.

Many people were lined up along the railing, staring straight ahead. Mrs. Wen was among them. Mei stood in the passageway. She clasped her hands behind her neck and gently swayed her shoulders from side to side. Her short sleeves fell back to her shoulders, revealing her snow white arms like two triangles on ei- ther side of her head. The sight of her bare skin attracted quite a few sideward glances. Mei bit her lip and grinned as if no one else were there. Then, impulsively, she raised her eyebrows and skipped off, cutting right through the clusters of passengers to the door of the captain's cabin.

About one hundred feet from the front of the ship, two walls of stone jutted out of the water and faced each other across the river, so vertical and smooth they seemed to be sliced out of the rocks with a knife. There were no trees, no vines, no ferns, only the pitch black rocks looming majestically over the river like a monu- mental door frame without its top. Joining these two strange stones

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were row after row of undulating mountains. Each billowing wave of the Yangzi rushed to be first to reach the shore, crashing vio- lently against the foot of the cliffs.

The boat's whistle once again let out a long ear-splitting shriek as the Longmao sailed into the great stone gateway. Mei craned her neck to see. The intensity of the sun made her dizzy. She felt as though the rapidly receding stone precipice was swaying about to topple. Instinctively, she closed her eyes. She saw a fI;sh of red light and then all was dark.

Mei buried her face in her hands and thought to herself "So this is the Kui Pass. This is the great pass out of Sichuan. This is the demon pass* that separates Sichuan from the rest of the world!" Th~se thoughts left Mei momentarily distracted, until the boat's ~hlstle once again roused her. She lifted her head and felt a blind- mg flash from the returning sunlight. The Yangzi opened up before her, so broad that she could not see the shore. All that was visible we~e distant: smoky objects like the shadows of clouds lying on the horizon. As If a great weight had been lifted from her chest Mei smiled, raised her arms high, and took a deep breath. She' paid tribute to this glorious work of nature. It was only at that moment that she fully realized the vastness and power of the Yangzi River.

She turned her head to the right. The cliffs of the Kui Pass were still fain~ly visible. The pass itself now seemed but a crack among th~. mynad peaks, and within the crack lay a mysterious darkness.

From here on. you won't be seeing any more good scenery. Once you leave SIchuan the Yangzi is really quite ordinary. The Kui Pass is a natural boundary."

From her left came the sound of Mrs. Wen's voice. Mei turned her head and saw Mrs. Wen straining to move her small feet. As she nodded and walked away, Mei pursed her lips in a smile and called gent~y after her, "This is also the last time we'll be following a meandermg, narrow, dangerous, mazelike route. From here on we enter the broad vast world of freedom!"

*This is.a pun on .!he word gui, or demon, and the name of the pass as well as an expression of Mel s hatred of her isolation in Sichuan.

Chapter Two

When Mei was eighteen years old she was enrolled as a student at the Yizhou Girl's School in Chengdu, It was in that same year, on May 4, that the students of Beijing began their historic mass move- ment. Their initial attack on the Zhao mansion* gave rise to the raging tide of "May Fourth." The flames that burned through the Zhao mansion set fire to the zeal of young people throughout China.

Within a month this raging tide, this spark, had burst forth and spread all the way to Chengdu, that remote and enigmatic land on China's western frontier. Mei had gone to Shaocheng Park to wit- ness the activity generated by a rally to boycott Japanese goods. The slogan of the rally was "patriotism." Of course, Mei knew that she should love her country, but the slogan was too general, too broad to arouse her enthusiasm. She remained only a spectator. At the time she was too caught up in her own personal dilemma, one that she could not resolve. Only three days earlier, without her consent, her father had betrothed her to her first cousin, Liu Yuchun.

When she returned home from the rally that evening, her father had himself just returned from getting drunk at the Lius', He had apparently heard something at the Liu Dry Goods Store because instead of going straight to sleep as usual, he summoned Mei and began to rant, "So, this is our great republic! Students meddling in

*This was the home of Cao Hulin, minister of communications in the central warlord government and one of the three pro-Japanese officialswho were targets of student wrath following China's mistreatment at Versailles.

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other people's private affairsl They plan to go to the dry goods store to inspect it for Japanese goods. If they find any they'll confiscate them, and they even intend to impose a fine. It's ridiculous. It's impossible. I can't believe the yamen* won't take any action."

Mei lowered her head and said nothing. The words "inspect the dry goods store" pierced her like a knife. The earth-shaking patri- otic cries at Shaocheng Park, which had seemed so remote to her this afternoon, now turned out to be directly related to her per- sonal problem. In the future she would have to be the proprietress of a store that secretly sold Japanese goods. This prospect intensi- fied her misery. That day, when she heard people shout, "Patrio- tism," she hadn't given it a second thought, for she knew she had never sold out her country. Now her complacency was gone. Sud- denly she felt like a notorious traitor.

"Hehl What they say sounds good enough. They say they want us to buy Chinese products. Well, I'm a genuine doctor of Chinese medicine, the real article. But in recent years look how unpopular, how poor I've become!"

Her father spoke wheezingly, filling the room with the stench of alcohol. From the students, he moved on to his usual routine of cursing his son. His tongue thick from drink, he laboriously recited the past events that Mei had heard so often before. How he had sold offfamily property to send his son to study in America. How, later, he had sold more family property to pull the right strings to get his son a job. How his son, who was happily living far away, never even asked whether his father was dead or alive. His eyes were completely red by the time he finished his tale.

"The year before last he was employed in the office of the Shaanxi military governor, but he still wired home again and again asking for money. Last year he became a magistrate and he stopped coming to me for money. But his telegrams and express letters also stopped. Ah!This is the way a son who studies abroad and becomes an official acts. The one with real promise is that child Yuchun. He was an orphan. I took him into our home only because he was re- lated to us. Later, when I sent him to be an apprentice at the Hong Yuan Dry Goods Store at the Yuelai market, it was only so he'd have a way to make a living. And with nothing but his bare hands he turned around and made a fortune."

*A yamen was the office of the head of any administrative unit.

Her father closed his eyes and nodded his head in satisfaction. Then, abruptly, he opened them wide and shouted, "How dare those student bastards prevent people from selling Japanese goods!" Repeating himself once more with venom, Mei's father then staggered into his own room.

Mei watched his retreating figure and heaved a great sigh. If there hadn't been a maid still standing in a dark corner of the room, Mei would have already let the tears welling in her eyes pour out. Her eyes darted in every direction, like a drowning per- son searching desperately for something to hang on to. There was nothing, only the flickering flames of the kerosene lamp leaping to- ward her, the ancient wooden furniture gaping dumbly all around her, and the chill of a household in decline that pierced her to the marrow.

Biting her lip to hold back the tears, Mei fled into her own bed- room. Here the warmer atmosphere comforted her somewhat. On a delicate pear-wood table were arranged the mementos of the blissful days of her childhood: an exquisitely dressed doll; a red- lipped, white-toothed Negro figure with a small clock in its pro- truding belly; two peacock feathers inserted in a tea green trian- gular glass vase. These were all relics of better times, five or six years ago, before her mother had died. Mei, without a mother and without sisters, had used these toys to replace the intimacy of real flesh-and-blood relatives. Now she stared absentmindedly at these mute, though almost human, friends. Confused thoughts crossed her mind, but none took root in her consciousness. It was as though she were being assaulted by disconnected images-the dry goods store, Japanese products, cousin Liu, marriage, the rally at Shaocheng Park-each throbbing feverishly in her head.

Impulsively, she went to her bed and took out a small inlaid eb- ony box. She lifted the lid. It was completely empty except for a single photograph of the face of a slightly feminine-looking young man. Mei gazed at the photo for a few minutes, then closed the box and lay down on the bed. A vision of another man flashed before her eyes. On his round face were two broad, thick eyebrows and a pair of shrewd eyes. He was not basically bad looking. He just dis- played too much of the vulgarity of the crafty businessman.

Mei buried her face in the pillow and gritted her teeth. How she hated that man! Her secret hatred of him was as great as her secret

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love for the other man. But it was not her secret love for the one t~at caused her to hate the other. She had hated him for a long time, Both were her cousins, but for some reason she had never felt as close to her father's sister's son, who had been raised in her own family, as she felt toward her other cousin on her mother's side. Although she did not want him to, the former continually pursued her. From the time Mei was barely old enough to know about sex, he, already an adult, had constantly looked for oppor- tunities to flirt with her. She still had a scar on her arm where he had scratched her. This was something a proud girl like Mei could not tolerate. She carried in her bosom the secret of this humilia- tion. She secretly detested this man. Yet it had now been decided that she was to spend the rest of her life with this very person.

A feeling of having been vanquished, of having been taken pris- oner, overcame her. Worse, there seemed no hope of escape. The marriage agreement had been concluded. The wedding would probably take place next year. What means could she use to resist? What means did she have to resist? Still worse, she had heard that the man she loved was also about to get married. At the latest it would probably be this winter. Last week when they had met and talked at the Wangjiang teahouse, had he not said to her, "Meimei, • circumstances demand that we part. Even if I was not engaged, would Uncle want a poor orphan like me? And even if Uncle agreed, I'm only a clerk in the army divisional headquarters. Could I make you happy? I know you're willing to suffer, but how can I bear to see the one I love sacrifice on my account? The doctor says I have tuberculosis. I probably don't have long to live. That's even more reason not to sacrifice your future." ••

Two rows of tears streamed from Mel's eyes, but they were tears of happiness. She was glad she had tasted the bittersweet joy of true love. She sank once more into her memories, reliving that moment as if it were displayed before her like a motion picture. When her emotions had reached their peak, she had looked to see that there was no one around and pressed her face against her cousin's shoulder. Then slowly, half unconsciously, she moved her

*"Meimei" is a term used to address a younger sister. Here it demonstrates af- fection and the fact that the two are cousins.

**TraditionaJ Chinese morality contained strong proscriptions against the re- marriage of widows.

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lips closer to his. A shiver ran through his whole body. He drew gently back and said in an unsteady voice, "Cousin, I have tuber- culosis." Ohl Ohl Thberculosisl Will it keep me from embracing this man while he is alive? Will it only let me cry at his grave?

A wild passion overtook Mel's heart. She did not blame her cousin for his seeming aloofness. On the contrary, she was even more grateful, felt even more respect and love for his pure and honest nature. She wanted to know only why she did not have the right to love the one she loved, why she was only worthy of being a prisoner, a piece of soft, warm flesh to be toyed with. She hated the teachers at school and the old revolutionary spinster headmis- tress, Miss Cui, for never having discussed problems of this kind.

These two questions went round and round in her mind, but she had no answers. Finally, her nerves, half numb with exhaustion, led her to that age-old explanation: an unfortunate fate. This simple answer wrenched her, tortured her, haunted her, gnawed at her until the chirping of the birds praising the dawn aroused her with a start. The sun shone obliquely on the eaves of the house. The clock in the belly of the Negro doll ticked steadily. All was beautiful. All was calm.

Mei rolled over and sat up. In a daze, she balanced herself on the edge of the bed. She could not believe a whole night had passed. She noticed mosquito bites allover her pale upper arm. Her neck also itched. When she walked toward the window to look in the mirror, she saw that there were faint blue circles under her eyes and that her cheeks were flushed blood-red. Putting down the mirror, she sank into a nearby chair and stared vacantly at the doll sitting atop the pear-wood table.

The big hand on the Negro doll's belly had marked the passing of a full ten minutes when Mei suddenly jumped up. She dashed offa short letter, combed her hair, changed into a pale lilac muslin skirt and blouse, and called one of the family's maids to bring her breakfast. Her lips had recovered their smile, and her eyes, which minutes before were suffering from lack of sleep, once again radi- ated determination.

Mei went to school as usual. As she dropped the letter into a mailbox on the way, an unconscious smile crossed her face. No for- mal classes were held that day. Yesterday's rally had already stirred up some of these normally sedate young ladies. Everywhere could

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be heard the buzzing of female voices absorbed in curious gossip. The old revolutionary, Headmistress Cui, suddenly became an ob- ject of great interest. Wherever she went, her long braid bouncing behind her,* there were always pockets of students secretly watch- ing her every move. The reading room in particular was alive with activity. Group after group of students fought over month-old newspapers from Shanghai and Hankou to see how the students in Beijing had set fire to the minister's house and beaten up a high government official, to see how afterward they had taken to the streets to make speeches, and to see how several hundreds of t\em had been arrested by the police. A few of the more discerning girls went a step further and searched out five or six dusty volumes of New Youth magazine.** The whole school shook with nervous agitation.

Mei was no exception. But unlike the others, she was not ab- sorbed in this intense research into recent events. Rather, she used it as a means to make the time pass more quickly. In reality, she was preoccupied with the date she had made with cousin Wei Yu for later that day. She was also afraid that she would hear people say things like "the dry goods store sells nothing but Japanese products." Whenever Mei ran into classmates who were talking about the boycott, she could not help feeling a bit jumpy, as if her own hidden sins had been discovered.

At ten past four Mei sneaked away to the Ziyun pavilion. A tall, emaciated young man was already there waiting for her. They smiled and stood gazing silently at one another, then walked slowly to a large wutong tree behind the pavilion, each deep in thought, as if pondering what to say first.

"Meimei, your letter gave me quite a scare." The young man spoke softly, his gentle eyes fixed on Mel's face.

Mei replied with a tender smile, "Why weren't you able to sleep well last night? You look pale and your eyes are a bit swollen. You were crying last night, weren't you?"

*Traditionally only young unmarried girls in China wore their hair in braids. Used by a middle-aged woman like Miss Cui, this hairstyle could become a sym- hoi of feminism and the rejection of marriage.

"Founded in 1915 by Chen Duxiu, New Youth was one of the first of the new May Fourth era journals dedicated to, among other things, the promotion of ver- nacular literature, liberalism, women's rights, and the overthrow of Confucianism and traditional values.

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The young man sighed faintly, hung his head, and allowed two Imperceptible tears to drip down his cheeks.

Mel did not reply. Her lips drew together as if to speak, but she held back. She kicked a clump of grass at the foot of the tree with her toe and began mechanically fingering the hem of her muslin blouse. She hesitated for a full half-minute before she said calmly, "Cousin Yu, I don't know what was on my mind last night. But you needn't worry. It doesn't matter. Last night was nonsense, mean- Ingless nonsense. But this morning I came to a decision. Let's work out a plan to go away."

Wei Yu raised his head in alarm and fixed his gentle gaze on Mei as if he had not understood what she meant by "go away." Never- theless, a look of intense gratitude was revealed as his eyes slowly filled with tears. Mei smiled and added softly, "If we go away to- gether, there might still be hope. Ifwe split up, the future will be unendurable!"

Tears were his only reply. Twothoughts did battle in the mind of this overly sensitive young man. He could not bear to hurt her by saying no, but he felt he should not say yes. After a painful silence, he forced out these few words: "I am not worthy of such true love, Meimei."

This time it was Mel's face that turned pale. She began to have the uneasy feeling that the man she loved was a coward.

"I'm a sick man. At most I'll live another two or three years. I don't deserve to enjoy life. Even more, I shouldn't let the shadow hanging over my life blot out your chances for happiness. If you continue to think of me, then I will die with a smile on my face. Knowing that your future will be a good one, I'll be able to die content."

Although there was a slight tremor in his voice, he spoke these words with resolve. He had the aura of a martyr about to die for his principles. He shed no more tears. His cheeks were Hushed with excitement.

Mei silently bowed her head. Then suddenly she spoke with to- tal conviction: "My future most certainly will not be good."

"Huh?" "Because I don't love him. I hate him." "Do you hate him for the reason you mentioned last time? Ifhe's

too aggressive, it's probably because he loves you so much."

Mei could not but purse her lips and laugh. She shot a glance at Wei Yu and said with an air of disapproval, "When did you learn how to defend other people so well?"

"I'm not defending him. I'm just telling you the truth." "You call that the truth?" Mei spoke sharply. She was clearly angry. If this had not been

her trusted Wei Yu, she would certainly have thought Liu Yuchun had bribed him to lobby on Liu's behalf. But coming from Wei Yu's lips this sort of talk was quite unexpected. She looked at him in- tently, waiting for an answer.

"Meimei, I was wrong. Please forgive me. Of course, I don't want someone else to love you. But at the same time I really wish there was someone who could truly love you and whom you could love in return." Wei Yu tried to dispel his feelings of guilt by de- fending himself.

"When did you start having such thoughts?" "Since I found out that I had tuberculosis and knew I couldn't

make you happy." Again, tuberculosis. Mel's heart pounded. She sensed that the

dark shadow of this disease would tear them apart forever. She wanted to curse this god-forsaken tuberculosis, but Wei Yu had al- ready resumed speaking.

"Last year I didn't feel this way. Meimei, at that time we were both very shy. We never talked openly about our feelings. But in our hearts we both knew. We thought about each other all the time. At that time I hated myselffor being too poor. I resented Un- cle for not giving his consent. But recently I've been reading some stories and magazines and my way of thinking has changed. . . . "

"Now you just speak the truth, huh?" There was considerable dismay in her voice as she interrupted him.

"No. I've just come to realize that when you love someone it doesn't mean you have to possess her. To really love someone is to put her happiness ahead of your own. . . . "

"People only say that sort of thing in novels," Mei interrupted Wei Yu a second time. Clearly she was not pleased with what he had to say. Moreover, she did not understand what he meant by "possess."

"It's not from novels. It's philosophy-Tolstoy's philosophy," Wei Yu corrected her earnestly. But noticing Mei's exhausted appear- ance, he lowered his head and discontinued his argument.

There was a short silence. For the first time they heard the Hound of the cicadas chirping among the leaves of the wutong tree. The breeze rustled Mel's muslin skirt. The sun shone obliquely on the sides of the pavilion. Mei wrinkled her eyebrows slightly and stared into space. In the end it was Mei who spoke first, her eyes gliding over Wei Yu's face. "That business of yours later this year, has the date been set?"

He replied with a resigned nod of the head. But after a brief in- terval, he began to defend himself: "It was all my uncle's idea. I told him that right now I'm not in a position to take care of a family, but he refused to listen."

"But did you bring up your tuberculosis and the fact that you have only three or four years to live?"

"No. It wouldn't have done any good." "Then aren't you going to hurt her future?" Wei Yu looked at Mei with a puzzled expression. For a moment

he could not think of an appropriate reply. "Do you think it's all right because you don't love her? But how

can you know that she doesn't love you? How can you turn around and cold-bloodedly ruin the life of someone who loves you?"

"I can't worry about everything. Even if it will destroy her, it's my uncle who is the executioner. I'm only the sword. A sword can't move by itself."

"But when someone wants to throw herself on the blade of this sword, then it is able to come alive, isn't it? Then it is able to move out of the way!"

With this mild rebuttal, Mei turned her back on Wei Yuand be- gan walking slowly toward the pavilion. She could no longer sup- press the nagging suspicion, the uncomfortable sensation that gnawed at her insides. Her cousin was too passive, too timid. He was too lazy. Wei Yu only wanted to ensure his own immediate comfort. So much so that he was unwilling to brave danger for the one he loved. He placed his own comfort above all else.

By the time she stepped up onto the stone steps in front of the pavilion she could bear it no longer and turned around. But when she did, it was only to find that Wei Yu was right behind her. His feelings of apprehension brought her to a halt. They looked at each other for several seconds before Wei Yu spoke excitedly, "I'm a weakling, a good-for-nothing weakling. Meimei, you are wrong to love me. But you know what's in my heart. I worship you. To me

you are a goddess. I beg you not to be miserable because of me. I beg you to forget me. I beg you to despise me. I beg you, just let me lock my love for you away in my heart; just let me repay your kindness to me with my tears. Ahl I might as well tell you every- thing. I'm an evil person. Two months ago, in the middle of the night, when I was thinking of you, I found myself hugging the cov- ers passionately, squeezing them so tight, as if they were you. Oh, I'm a beast. It's only in the daytime, when I stand before you, that I become human again, an honest gentleman. I detest myself. When I read stories, when I look at magazines, it is in the hope of deriving some comfort from their pages, in the hope of discovering in their pages a way to save myselfand save you. Now I've found itl A glorious ideal has relieved me of my agony, has made up for los- ing you. Now if I could only see you live a long prosperous life, I would be the happiest man in the world!"

Having said this, Wei Yu opened wide his troubled eyes and stared offinto space. It was as if there, beyond the treetops, amidst the glow of the setting sun, was the new, glorious ideal to which he owed his salvation. As if there in the distance stood an infinitely compassionate, infinitely sympathetic sage, beckoning to him with a raised hand.

Tears the shape of pearls welled up in his eyes. Was this a nat- ural expression of his humanity, or was it the last remnant of his de- sire? Wei Yu was not certain himself. He merely felt an extraordi- nary sense of relief, as though he had just spit out something that had been lodged in his guts a long, long time.

Mei leaned against a pillar of the pavilion engrossed in thought. She did not reply. After a while she turned around and, with a strained expression, said softly, "I know what is in your heart. It's not just fate that's brought us to this impasse, is it? Please don't worry. I understand what you're saying. But please, spare me the philosophy from now on. I also have principles. I refuse to be a prisoner. It's getting late, Cousin Yu. Cood-byel"

Mei turned and took one last look at Wei Yu, then followed the path on the right of the pavilion and walked determinedly away. Wei Yu followed slowly behind her. Mter about ten steps she stopped, turned around once more, and said to him, "Those stories and magazine you spoke of, I also want to read them. Would you send them to my house?"

Suddenly the evening breeze blew through Mel's muslin hlouse, revealing the hem of her pale pink camisole. Like rosy clouds it dazzled Wei Yu's eyes and aroused his passions. In- IItinctively he rushed forward, about to press Mei to his bosom, hut he instantly recovered his composure and stopped. In a daze, he nodded his head, turned toward a different path, and ran away.

Mei returned home bewildered. Her image of Wei Yu had be- gun to blur. She had always felt she understood Wei Yucompletely. Now she was not sure. A few strange books had changed her Wei Yu. But how they had changed him, Mei did not really know. She just felt as though some kind of mysterious spirit had possessed Wei Yu, making his way of thinking different from other people's, different from her own. He had become even more cowardly, even more indifferent. It could even be said that he had become frigid and aloof. But that was not the whole story. Beneath his cowardice he had a new daring and determination; beneath that icy aloofness burned a passionate desire to sacrifice himself for the happiness of another.

There was only one thing of which Mei was still absolutely cer- tain, and that was Wei Yu'sfaithfulness to her. This gave her incom- parable comfort. In imitation of Wei Yu, she had come close to say- ing, "Even if my future knows no happiness, as long as there is someone who loves me with all his heart, my life will not have been lived in vain."

In such a mood Mei began to feel the days pass more easily. At the same time her native eagerness to explore new things encour- aged her to devour the stories and magazines Wei Yusent over. She thirsted for an immediate knowledge of the mysterious spirit that had changed Wei Yu.

As for the fervent activity of the "patriotic movement," she was still just a bystander. She could not get herself interested. Al- though the words "inspect the dry goods store for Japanese goods" occasionally upset her, when she thought of her decision "not to be a prisoner" she became inured, feeling that the matter of Japanese products at the dry goods store had, after all, nothing to do with her. She viewed the continued progress of this convulsive mass movement as she had before, as something totally unrelated to her own personal interests.

But the patriotic movement to boycott Japanese goods was slowly developing a new focus. The students of the city's highest educational institution, the Teacher's College, had proclaimed a new slogan: "Liberalize social relations between the sexes." Mei recalled that several of Wei Yu's magazines had mentioned this, but she had not paid it any attention. Following Wei Yu's instruc- tions, she had read only the essays on Tolstoy. The stories were also by Tolstoy. In her excitement she had already read them twice, but they did not seem to say anything about open social relations. With a new curiosity and hope she perused them yet again.

One day on the way home from school Mei caught a glimpse of several eye-catching magazines arranged in the window of a book- seller's shop. Each and every one had the word "new" in the title. On the front covers were also prominently displayed article titles such as "The Cannibalism of Traditional Morality." She looked at them with surprise and joy and regretted that she was not carrying any money. The next day on the way to school she made a point of deliberately stopping in to buy one, but they were all sold out.

Dispirited, she went to school but was in no mood to listen to the lectures. Instead she daydreamed. She imagined that she saw a rush of powerful roaring waves rolling over all that was old and rotten. She was convinced that extraordinary and new things were spreading everywhere. Her small corner of the world was the only place they had not yet reached. And even if they did, she would never get her hands on them. Restlessly she gazed around the room. She despised her dull, lazy, torpid classmates. Then sud- denly, unexpectedly, she saw a student, Xu Qijun, sitting not far from her, reading one of the magazines with the word "new" in the title.

After class Mei rushed over to Xu Qijun. Peering over her shoul- der, Mei saw that this was the very magazine that had slipped through her fingers. "Ah, I never suspected you were the one who bought it," Mei called out gleefully. She turned half around and leaned on Xu Qijun's shoulder as though they were old friends. Xu turned her head, looked at Mei with dark, penetrating eyes, and said with a smile, "Are these also on sale in the city? Mine were sent to me by my brother in Beijing."

The two classmates, who had barely known each other by sight, suddenly began an intimate conversation. An indescribable but

clearly sensed force drew them together. In the course of this an- Imated discussion Mei again heard many strange new terms. Al- though she did not yet fully understand their meaning, each one gave her a feeling of rapture, of exhilaration. The two girls did not even hear the bell signaling the next class.

When Mei returned home that day she carried under her arm a hundle of magazines, all lent to her by Xu Qijun. Although the weight under her arm had increased, there was a greater spring in her steps. She felt that a new world had opened up before her. She had only to walk in and there would be happiness and light.

Her exploration of the new thought and the sudden acquisition of a new friend made Mei temporarily forget the anxieties evoked by her personal problems. From the crack of dawn when they went to school until the evening when it grew dark, she and Xu Qijun were inseparable. The two of them became a target of gossip at school. Some even suspected them of lesbianism. Summer vaca- tion was near. The dates for final examinations had already been set. But Mei and Xu remained engrossed in the new books and magazines. The only time they opened their textbooks was in class, when they propped them up on their desks to fool their teachers.

Because of Wei Yu's original suggestion, Mei still concentrated on Tolstoy. But Xu seemed to be a disciple of Ibsen. Every other word out to her mouth was Ibsen. Each saw herself as the repre- sentative of her chosen writer. In reality, neither really understood the works of these two great masters. They had only a very vague Idea of their meaning and even misinterpreted them in many places. But at the same time they shared a common conviction: Tolstoy and Ibsen were both new, and because they were new they were definitely good. This common faith strengthened the girls' friendship and brought their very souls together.

Examinations finally ended. On the evening of July 1, the first day of vacation, Met's father suddenly took ill. The old man had re- turned home drunk at eight o'clock. At ten he started complaining of stomach pains, after which he threw up everything he had eaten. He wrote himself a prescription, which he himself pre- pared, but it had no effect. Mei did not sleep all night. She sat in her father's sickroom, wild and confused thoughts pouring through her agitated mind. Just before dawn her father seemed a bit calmer, but within half an hour he went into a rage over his son's

lack of filial piety. Gasping, he jumped up and began ranting about dragging his son back and reporting him to the magistrate for dis- obedience to his father. All Mei and the maid could do was muster their strength to pull the old man back to bed. This melodrama lasted until eight o'clock the next morning, when the patient fi- nally calmed down and Mei frantically sent for a doctor.

Later that morning, when the patient appeared to be resting easily, Mei returned to her own room to try getting a little sleep. But in her overly excited condition she could do no more than close her burning eyes and let her muddled thoughts overcome her. She pondered the fact that Xu Qijun would be returning home to Chongqing today. Mel's new friend had promised to mail her more new books, but Mei did not know when they would arrive. She also wondered whether her plans to spend the vacation read- ing would be upset and hoped her father would get well quickly. It also troubled her that Wei Yu had not been by all week. She turned these matters over and over in her mind. Time and again she rolled over to place her feverish cheeks on the coolest part of the mat.* Mei dimly heard the singing of birds in the trees out- side her window. The voice of their servant, Auntie Zhou, drifted over from the living room, followed by the shuffle of footsteps. Finally, there was what sounded like a fly buzzing incessantly around her ear.

"Master Liu is here." As the humming congealed into these words, Mei awakened

from her exhausted stupor. She opened her eyes and stared va- cantly in front of her. The maid, Chuner, stood grinning at the foot of the bed. Mei frowned and shook her head as if to say, "Don't bother me," then turned over and pretended to be asleep. She had expected him to come. She really had been hoping someone would come to drive awayher depression. Ifonly it had not been himl All thought of sleep departed. Mei jumped up and ran to the door to lock it but changed her mind. She left it half opened as before, walked to the window, and sat down in her chair. She spoke softly but proudly to herself: "Will he dare?" The small hand on the belly of the Negro doll showed that is was precisely three o'clock. The oppressive heat of the July sun muted all sound. There was only

*It is a common practice in parts of China to place straw mats on one's bed in summer to avoid the sticky heat of sleeping on sheets.

the chirping of the cicadas in the wutong tree outside the window. Mel sat stilHy upright in her chair, as if awaiting some grave omen.

Suddenly the door creaked. Mei watched, startled. The face of Chuner, her thick lips parted, peered in and then quickly withdrew.

"Chunerl" Mel's stern shout drew Chuner back inside. She stood fearfully

in the doorway. Her thick lips, which lent an air of stupidity to her face, were half opened, almost as if to smile.

"Has Master Liu gone yet?" "He's gone." "Is my father asleep yet?" "Not yet. Master Liu and the old master talked a long time.

First the old master was happy; then he got angry." Mei cocked her head and hesitated. She thought this very

strange and looked at Chuner's fat face with disbelief She knew this tricky little girl would not stoop to lying, so maybe she was making a wild guess. But Chuner stepped closer and went on in a whisper, "Master Liu said to the old master that if he and the young mistress got married earlier, the old master could move into Master Lin's house. That way, if he got sick again in the middle of the night he wouldn't have to worry. Auntie Zhou told me your wedding will be next monthl"

"Damn!" Mel's color changed slightly, but she quickly recovered her air of

indifference and scrutinized Chuner as if to test the reliability of her words. Then Mei laughed bitterly and asked, "And what did my father say?"

"The old master was very happy. Then I don't know what Mas- ter Liu said, but the old master started getting angry. The old mas- ter cursed the bastard student troublemakers and the yamen for not taking any action."

Mei closed her eyes and sneered. With the words "Button your lip" she ordered Chuner out, and holding her head in her hands, she sank into thought. She guessed what "Master Liu" must have said, but could her father really have agreed to carry it out next month? Mei was extremely upset. Although she had already de- cided on a way to deal with things, she had hoped they would not come to a head so soon.

That night Mel's father slept peacefully, and by the next day he had nearly recovered. While chatting with him, Mei tried to bring up the subject of her anxieties. Her father spoke to her with vehe- mence. "It was just some sort of bug, but everyone figured I was on my deathbed. Yuchun even wanted to rush the marriage without allowing time for the necessary arrangements. Hehl That young- ster is really shrewd. I intend to live a few more years yet. I want to carry out your wedding with the full ceremony. With the stu- dents making such a fuss, who knows how much Yuchun will lose? Naturally, I would prefer that you wait until his business picks up before you get married. He sure knows how to talk. He said that I was getting old, that I was always sick, and that if you two got mar- ried soon, he'd have me live with you so he could look after me day and night. Hal I, Dr. Mei, am not the type who follows his daugh- ter to her husband's house just for a free meal ticket!"

Mei smiled. She knew her father intended to use all of this to get something out of the Lius. The severe criticism of "commercialized marriages" in her magazines immediately sprang to mind. But as long as her father's ideas helped further her own "delaying tactics" she was happy. She expressed the desire to "wait at least until I've graduated from high school," then quickly found a pretext to leave her father's presence.

"Worry about tomorrow when it comes. For the present, just walk the path that lies before you," Mei thought as she sat in her own room. She smiled as she picked up a copy of Weekly Review* that Xu Qijun had left and began reading it enthusiastically.

Before she had finished a page, she heard the sound of voices coming from the living room. She threw down the magazine and ran out. In the anteroom off her father's bedroom she saw a hand- some young man in a military uniform. It was Wei Yu. He had come to inquire about Dr. Mei's illness and say good-bye.

"I've already seen Uncle. Tomorrow I'm leaving for Luzhou." Wei Yu spoke these words rapidly, then looked intently at MeL His eyes appeared moist.

Mei forced a smile and, acting the hostess, invited him to come sit in the library. This tiny side room had once served as Dr. Mel's

*Founded in Shanghai in 1919, this Guomindang, or Nationalist Party, organ was one of the most important new journals to appear during the May Fourth period.

examining room. Then it had been used as the classroom for the children in the family. Recently, it had been abandoned altogether, and although it was still kept spotlessly clean, it already showed signs of disuse. Mei had hurriedly thought of this place so they would not be disturbed.

It took ten minutes for Mei to find out that Wei Yu's unit was starting out for Luzhou and could end up going into battle. She also discovered that Wei Yu had been promoted to lieutenant. She stared at him. He spoke with exasperating slowness. A million questions lodged in Mei's throat, waiting for a pause to burst out.

"It's because we heard there would be fighting that a lot of the men who managed the division's paperwork resigned. So they pro- moted me a grade. Ofcourse, I don't know how to fight, but when you think about it, it's not so terrible. If I'm killed, that's okay. If I'm lucky enough not to be killed, I'm hoping the experience will Improve my health. I think this should stir up my spirit. You see, Meimei, I'm wearing a uniform now. If! can't be a healthy person, I might as well die. This is my last act of courage, my last hope. But there's an eighty or ninety percent chance I'll die. If we lose the hattie, I won't be able to escape, someone like me ... "

Wei Yu stopped abruptly. Although he felt the iron hand of fate tightly gripping him, the new books and magazines he had been reading of late kept him from letting the final words of self- denigration escape his lips. He cast his eyes downward, then glanced once more around the room. It was still the same old li- brary. Events of ten years ago rushed into his mind. Back then his parents were still alive. Back then he had studied in this very room, sharing the same desk with MeL Back then they had often pretended that they were bride and groom kneeling before the al- tar on their wedding day. It was also back then that their two hearts had become inextricably intertwined, inseparable for eternity. Now, now the two hearts were still the same, but everything around them had changed. He had to acknowledge the power of reality. He had to sever the feelings oflove he had harbored for ten years. He could not hold back his tears.

Mei did not share his feelings of sorrow. She had been waiting patiently for Wei Yu to continue speaking. When it seemed likely that there would be no more, her questions began pouring out. "When will you be back? Do clerks also have to go to the front? It

l

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will take about ten days to get to Liizhou, won't it? When you're traveling by land, they'll have to give you a sedan chair. won't they?" ,

This string of questions interrupted Wei Yu's train of thought. He smiled at Mei and replied as slowly as before, "There's no tell- ing with the army. Maybe once we get there we won't fight. Right now no one knows. Even if we do fight, of course they won't send ~e to the front. But if we lose I'll need two strong legs to escape. I d rather get shot at! When will we be back? That's even harder to say."

For a moment it was silent. They exchanged glances. Then Wei Yu laughed bitterly and added, "This could be our last good-bye. I pray, Meimei, that you will have a peaceful and happy future."

Mei smiled knowingly and said with gravity, "I hope when you get to Liizhou there is a battle. I hope you win. I know you are go- ing to win. I have faith that this will be the beginning of your ca- reer. When that happens, when that happens, everything will be different. I'm waiting for that moment."

Smiling again, Mei stood up energetically, like a brave woman seeing her sweetheart offto war. Suddenly she remembered some- thing. Staring strangely at him she whispered, "You probably won't get back this year. What about that matter of yours?"

As he replied, Wei Yu stood up and straightened his uniform. "If we don't return there is nothing they can do about it. They can't send her to Liizhou, can they? Anyway, who says we'll stay in Liizhou. When you're dealing with the army, who knows what will happen?"

A sudden gust of wind blew open the glass doors. Outside was a small courtyard with several stalks of bamboo and a flower bed cov- ered with dense moss. Beside the flower bed stood a few broken flowerpots filled with scraggly weeds. Mei walked woodenly over to close the doors, then turned and faced Wei Yu. He stood in the doorway, about to leave. She could not help smiling. It was a smile that said, "Our hearts are one," a comforting smile, an approving smile. It was also a smile of hope.

Chapter Three

Summer vacation passed quickly. It was early evening, just after a rain shower, and the air was cool and refreshing. Beads of water dripped from the leaves of the banana trees. Several earthworms emitted their long faint squeaks from beneath the rocks at the foot of the wutong tree. Mei bent down and selected from a bamboo chest the textbooks and lecture notes she had not touched for nearly two months. A girl sat in the rattan chair by the window. She wore a white linen dress with green glass buttons, light green stockings, and yellow shoes. Her face was slightly square, with lively eyes and thin brows arched in a manner that was delicately feminine. But there was something masculine about the curve of her jaw, displaying a vigor that demanded both fear and respect. Her soft, short black hair was parted in the middle and arranged neatly on either side, partially covering her ears.

It was Mei's friend Xu Qijun. In her hand was a paper fan, which she waved lazily in front of her and occasionally in the direction of Mei, who was still stooped over the bamboo chest.

"You think I've put on some weight? Well, maybe I have. I'm all right, no problems. Except at times I thought I'd almost die wait- ing for your books and letters," Mei spoke quickly, as she leafed through a set of mimeographed lecture notes.

"Now that you mention it, r m really ashamed of myself. I wasted the whole summer and never got through one whole book. My big brother always says it's useless to constantly bury your head in books. You have to know how to use your eyes to observe, how to use your brain to think. So I listened to him and just took it easy.

Just sitting around chatting every day does make the time pass quickly, But if you think about it, real intellectuals don't have to bury their heads in books. They already know how to use their eyes an~ how to use their brains. I'm not one of them! Mei, am I right?"

I agree one hundred and twenty percent." Mei straightened up and sighed. She pushed the bamboo chest

up against the wall with her foot, walked over to Xu, leaned on the arm of the rattan chair, and scrutinized Xu's head of short jet-black hair. "Sister Qi, do a lot of girls in Chongqing have short hair?"*

"Not many. My older brother insisted that I cut it, so I cut it. My mother said it was a pity, that when I got to Chengdu people would make fun of me. Really, Chongqing is more liberal than here, more progressive."

Xu Qijun unconsciously stroked her own hair, then looked up at Mei. Gazing at her intently, she smiled as she suddenly remem- bered something. "When I arrived a while ago I saw a man. Your maid, Chuner, called him 'Master.' Mei, is he your fiance? Why didn't you ever mention him?"

Mei shook her head, half as if to confess and half as if to deny it. "That Tolstoyite that you're always talking about, Wei ... Wei

Yu. Is that him?" "No!"

With this simple denial Mei hastily turned away and looked out the window. The two tiny round buns at the back of her head glistened before Xu Qijun's eyes, emitting a fragrance of rose blossoms.

Mei turned around. There Wl1S something slightly uneasy in the sound of her voice. "But Sister Qi, how come you're back? Didn't your brother want you to go to Nanjing to study?"

"He did at first. Then he found out that beginning this term ¥izhou will also undergo reform. So he said I might as well not transfer to another school. Really, Mei, the school has changed enormously. Several of the new teachers they've hired are my brother's classmates."

And so the conversation turned to school. Each vied with the other to express her views on the subject, to anticipate the joys of

*Traditionally, Chinese women did not cut their hair. The movement to do so was part of the women's liberation movement that emerged during the larger May Fourth era.

1 _

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the school days about to begin. Xu's loud, distinct, laughing voice und the clear, soft tones of Met's words filled the space below the flower-patterned papered ceiling of the small room. Then it was si- lent again. They both smiled and looked at each other.

"Mei, your cousin, Wei ... Wei Yu, is he still in Chengdu?" Xu's tone was filled with curiosity as she returned to the topic

they had dropped so inconclusively a while ago. This time Mei did not offer a one-word answer. Largely because the joyous expecta- tions they had just voiced had aroused her enthusiasm, she briefly told her friend the story of Wei Yu's life. Although she had spoken only in general terms, Met's tone of hidden concern made a pro- found impression on Xu Qijun.

"Then who was it that Chuner called 'Master'?" Xu candidly pressed further.

"This, Sister Qi, this you will know soon enough. I'm not as for- tunate as you. It's difficult for me to talk about my personal life. It's too depressing to think about, so I don't. Worry about tomorrow when it comes. For the present, just walk the path that lies before you." As she spoke a bitter smile crossed her face. She grabbed the paper fan from Xu's hand and began fanning herself vigorously.

"Oh, but you have to have a plan for the future!" Having quietly expressed her opinion, Xu questioned Mei no

more. The purple of twilight had already begun to diffuse through the banana leaves outside the window. The chirping of the crickets gradually became more rapid. The two girls chatted a while longer. Then Xu said good-bye and left.

Mei felt overcome with a sense of loss, but after a short while she recovered. The dreams that had been nourished in her soul a month before when Wei Yu had come to bid her farewell had long since been shattered. There had been no fighting in Liizhou. Wei Yu had continued to live the monotonous life of a clerk. They had written to each other three or four times, but their letters contained nothing more than idle chatter about their mundane lives and inquiries after each other's well-being. There were no signs of progress toward a common future. So when Xu Qijun said, "You have to have a plan for the future," Mei felt it was totally inapplicable. What sort of "plan for the future" was there? And even if there was one, would it work? From the beginning Mei had felt that dreaming about the future was meaningless. She

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still believed that for the present you should "just walk the path that lies before you."

School reopened. This was Mei's present. She accepted this present with her entire body and soul. Just as Xu Qijun had pre- dicted, the school had taken on a whole new face. On the first day of school Headmistress Cui, her long braid dangling behind her, addressed the student body with these impassioned words: "In the past, when we overthrew the Qing dynasty, men and women party members worked hand in hand. While male revolutionaries fired their guns and set off their bombs, female revolutionaries smug- gled those guns and bombs to them. Now, as we build the Republic of China men and women must again work hand in hand just as we did when we overthrew the Qing. At present there are those who shout, 'Women's liberation: But I say, 'Women do not need anyone to liberate them. We can strike out a new path for ourselves!' " These words pierced Mel's heart and set it afire. She was exhila- rated. Some of the new teachers also spoke. Everything they had to say was fresh, was new, was intoxicating like a fine wine.

On the first day of class Mei was in a serious mood. Her Chinese teacher Was new. His lecture was on the colloquial language used in the "new" magazines.* Her history teacher was also new. He mounted the podium without any notes and expounded on "social progress" and the "discovery of man." Mei listened with rapt atten- tion and threw herself into the task of reading about these new subjects.

Within two weeks the school had undergone a complete trans- formation. A student council had been founded and held frequent meetings. Preparations were underway for a theater group and a mimeographed weekly newspaper. Reading novels no longer con- stituted a violation of school rules. The Chinese teacher even lec- tured on novels. A new air of expectation spread over the whole school.

The last innovation to arrive was the "movement for short hair." That came a month later. Talk of haircutting had already been cir- culating for some time when one day it suddenly became a reality.

. *Unt~l the 1910S, most Chinese literature was written in unpunctuated, clas- sical Chinese. One of the major achievements of the May Fourth period was the development of the vernacular literary form, both for use in fiction and in schol- arly, journalistic, and official writings.

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Several students active in the Student Council were the first to take the plunge, after which they stalked the school lopping offthe hair of others. It was in this fashion that Mei lost her own two small buns. Laughing all the time, Xu Qijun evened out Mel's remaining hair and parted it in the middle.

Just as the legends of some primitive tribes hold that a person's Kood fortune resides in the hair, Mei found that her hair now brought her unanticipated problems. When her father first saw her that night, he simply frowned and accused her of recklessness. After she explained what had happened, his anger ceased. "For daughters to become sons is not really such a bad thing. It's just too bad that in the end they can't take the place of a son," was all he said. But several days later the old doctor's attitude changed, and his conversation began to return again and again to the subject of Mei's short hair. His ceaseless admonitions were peppered with phrases such as "What's all this about equality between the sexes?" and "People will look down on you:' Mei could only lower her head and smile. She understood her father's ramblings.

What troubled her more was the young hooligans on the street. Every day on the way to and from school a few impudent youths would follow her. At first they just shouted from a distance, "Look ut the student with the short hair!" But later on they began to hurl obscenities at her. There were few girls in the city with short hair because Mei's short-haired classmates all lived in the dormitory and rarely went into town. Therefore, the curious eyes and inso- lent tongues concentrated on the person of Mei, who had to walk these streets twice each day. Like her own personal bodyguard, Mei was always surrounded by four or five drooling, leering young hooligans. The whole city knew of the dazzling, short-haired "Miss Mei." Each day she attracted a number of men who waited on this or that street corner just to catch a glimpse of her walking by.

Mei's newly found reputation was extremely upsetting to Liu Yuchun and Dr. Mei. One night, after the two of them had dis- cussed the matter, Dr. Mei unexpectedly said to his daughter, "I've decided to schedule your wedding for this winter, after all. It won't be long now, so you needn't go to school anymore."

Mei was flabbergasted. She looked at her father and spoke fal- teringly, "I won't graduate until next summer. Father, didn't you promise that you'd at least wait until after I graduated?"

"That was before. After all, it doesn't make any difference whether you graduate. Your brother graduated from an American university, which sounds wonderful, but what good has it done the family?"

Dr. Mei launched into yet another tirade against his son. He cursed him as a bankrupt would curse an overnight millionaire who owed him an ancient debt but absolutely refused to pay it back.

"Of course Brother's conduct is improper. But parents send their children to school in the hope that they will prosper, not as a loan to be repaid." Mei could not resist applying some of the new thought that she had been introduced to recently to her own des- perate situation.

"Ah, just wait until you have children of your own. Now ... well, you've been in school for six or seven years. Tomorrow you needn't go to school anymore!"

"Father, I wish you would remember your promise." "That was then. This is now. Don't be like your brother and

make your father angry." "Father, why won't you keep your word? I'm only asking for one

year! Anyway, Father, you said you wanted to wait until Liu's busi- ness was improved before my wedding. Why have you changed your mind? The boycott of Japanese goods in Shanghai and Hankou has intensified. The city is in an uproar. Father, why don't you con- sider this carefully?"

Old Dr. Mel's face showed a slight hesitation. In the end he ap- peared to give way. "The date for your wedding has not been set yet. I haven't made any preparations. Let's say we drop the subject for the time being. But I won't permit you to go back to school. I don't like what people are saying:'

"What are they saying?" "You mean you don't know? It's all because of that haircut of

yours. You practically look like a Buddhist nun!" Mei could not resist a smile. So that was it! There was now a tar-

get for her attack. Very tactfully, she explained that rumors were meaningless and pointed out that all she would have to do was live on campus. That way she would not be traveling back and forth on the streets every day, and these annoying slanders would soon cease. Dr. Mei hesitated for some time, but finally agreed to Mel's request.

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When Xu Qijun heard why Mei was suddenly moving to the dormitory, she became extremely agitated and gave Mei two pieces of advice: establish a definite objective and prepare for the future. She vigorously criticized Mei's philosophy of living for the present as virtual resignation. Mei's only reply was a smile. Six months ago, if someone had spoken to her of objectives, she would have had some to talk about, but recently they had begun to seem Increasingly futile. She now felt that Wei Yu's "philosophy of nonresistance" was merely a narcotic with which he soothed his coward's soul. Of course, she still respected his sincere nature. It might even be said that she still loved him, but this so-called love had already become no more than an abiding sympathy for the man.

Filled to overflowing with negativism and depression, Wei Yu's recent letters had made Mei unhappy. She was convinced that her first love would fade before it ever had a chance to blossom. At the same time she thought of eventually being married off to Liu Yu- chun and became disgusted. Mei did not feel that she had failed in love but instead felt a sense of having been conquered, of having been taken prisoner. Emotionally she erected a towering barricade of hatred. From the start she could tell that Liu Yuchun would be unable to respect her, unable to love her for herself. This, too, had evoked in her feelings of true friendship with Wei Yu that went be- yond the bounds of mere romantic love. In such a complex state of mind, Mei simply could not articulate what her goals were, much less speak of any "preparation for the future:' All she could do was deal cautiously with the present.

The lively atmosphere at school also left her no free time for idle fantasies. Time passed quickly. Double Ten, the anniversary of the founding of the Republic of China, * would soon be here. A theat- rical performance had been arranged in celebration of the event, but although Ibsen's A Doll's House had been chosen as the play, no one was willing to take on the central female role of Mrs. Lin- den. Until three days ago each of the girls in the newly formed the- ater group was still making excuses why someone else and not she should take the part. Mei had not actually joined the theater

*Double Ten refers to the tenth day of the tenth month on the Chinese lunar calendar, the date of the Wuchang uprising, which marked the beginning of the 1911 revolution establishing the Republic of China.

group, but at the time she could not resist commenting, "Lao Zhang, you've always had such a passion for acting. How come you'd rather sacrifice the opportunity to go on stage than play the part of Mrs. Linden? Isn't it just acting? What's the big deal?"

"I'm willing to play any other part. I just won't play Mrs. Lin- den. She's a woman who loves a man and then abandons him and a widow who remarries," Zhang said angrily, her lips pursed in contempt.

"Then it's her behavior you object to. Well, I disagree. I think Mrs. Linden is the best character in the play. She's a woman who doesn't let herselfbe controlled by love. In the first case, she drops Krogstad and marries Linden because Linden has money. He can take care of her and her younger sister. She sacrifices herself for the sake of her mother and younger sister. Later, when she marries Krogstad, it is because she wants to save Nora. That's the kind of courageous and decisive woman she isl

"Since you endorse her behavior, you play her!" Zhang mali- ciously cornered Mei, The onlookers clapped and shouted their ap- proval. Mei smiled noncommittally but did not reject the idea. It was decided: Mei would play Mrs. Linden. And so they managed to get through the Double Ten performance.

Mei took advantage of this opportunity to make a thorough study of A Doll's House. Originally, she had worshipped the character of Nora, but now she felt that Nora's situation was actually very com- monplace. When she realized that her husband regarded her as a mere plaything, she decided to leave him. Was this so extraordi- nary? Mei began to feel that every aspect of Nora's life was no more than a reflection of the attitudes women had held since ancient times. When all her options were cut off, Nora took advantage of her beauty to get what she wanted. She affected an air of gentle sweetness and femininity to borrow money secretly from Dr. Rank, but when her flirtatious games threatened to turn serious, she re- treated. To the very core of her being she was conscious of being a woman. Although her actions were taken to help others, she still could not use her sexuality as an item of exchange. Mrs. Linden was completely different. Twice she bartered her sexuality to help others, with no regrets. She was a woman for whom being female was no longer of primary importance.

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Ideas ofthis sort took root in Mel's mind, and as they slowly ma- tured, they came to influence her own life. She gradually began to view her own pending marriage as insignificant. She prepared to devote her life to some great purpose, though the outlines of this so-called purpose remained quite blurred.

Just before the arrival of winter vacation Wei Yu suddenly turned up. His unit had unexpectedly been transferred back to Chengdu and was stationed in the Qingyang temple outside the city. He had already aged considerably, and his expression was even more melancholy than before. He stammered as he told Mei that he could no longer avoid getting married, his voice filled with the fear that she would get angry.

After listening to Wei Yu's explanation, Mei spoke openly, al- most laughingly, "Though I don't believe in fate, it certainly seems that destiny has already had its say in this."

"Then, Meimei, what about you?" "Me? I've also decided to await the command of fate. Please

don't worry about me." With this simple, ambiguous answer, Mei changed the topic of

conversation. She asked him about the scenery in Liizhou and told him about events at school. Her pretense at happiness left Wei Yu with a peculiar feeling. As he looked at the dimples that appeared as Mei smiled, he thought to himself that this was not the same girl she used to be. This new Mei was hard to understand.

Mei's feelings were the exact opposite. She was aware of the conflicts in Wei Yu's timid heart. She now found it rather too easy to laugh at his surfeit of contradictions and kindheartedness. But for some reason she also felt an inexpressible sense of melancholy. After Wei Yu left, she returned to her own room and sadly lay down. She dimly heard the chatter of her classmates outside the window. Although she could not make their words out clearly, they seemed to be talking about the male visitor who had just gone. She also recalled the wistful look on Wei Yu's emaciated face. She vi- sualized him in his wedding clothes and herself being pulled this way and that by so many people, always against her will.

"Hey, what are you doing hiding in your room?" The sound of Xu Qijun's voice suddenly shattered Mel's soli-

tude. She opened her eyes for a moment and then shut them

again. She imagined herself being led from the wedding hall to the bridal chamber. So many noisy, jostling people, some familiar, some unfamiliar, their faces all wearing an expression of pity. Finally, Liu Yuchun, like a wild animal, pinning her beneath him . . . She began to tremble. The images dispersed at once. But there remained the distinct feeling that her body was being crushed under a warm mound of flesh. She opened her eyes with a start and saw that the person grinning before her was, in fact, Xu Qijun.

"You must have been daydreaming," Xu said gaily. But the look in her eyes was quite serious. Seeing that Mei, who was blushing, had looked away without answering, Xu pressed her further, "I as- sume your guest is gone. What happened? Instead of coming to tell your older sister, you go and hide in your room and drift off into a dream world. You should be punished! Come on, hurry up and tell me everything."

"What happened? It's very simple. Wei Yu has come home to get married. Everything is proceeding as arranged. Everything is as it should be. Everything is fine. Nothing's happened." Mei's tone was unexpectedly calm, almost as though she were talking about someone else's life.

"Well, what do you intend to do?" "Naturally, I'll go ahead as planned. There's nothing unusual in

that either." "Youl Are you saying you plan to marry that Liu fellow?" Mei responded with a smile. Xu Qijun straightened up and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Gazing at Mei, she sighed. It was a sigh of indignation but also a sigh of regret.

Mei felt compelled to explain further, "I don't think there's any reason not to marry. . . . "

"But there isn't any reason to marry him, either," Xu Qijun cut Mei off angrily. "Anyway, didn't you already say you don't love him?" She stood up, took a few steps, turned and looked, and waited for the rest of her reply.

"Do you think it's an unforgivable sin for a woman to marry a man she doesn't love?" Mei asked. "That once married she can't get divorced? Do you accept the old moral proscription that says, 'A wife must die faithful to one husband'?"

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Mel's demeanor was calm. But as she watched Xu shaking her head in disapproval, she became somewhat agitated and qUickl~ added, "Please don't suspect me of lusting after other people s money. I'll tell you the truth, Sister Qi-my father's aim is mone~. And Liu is using money to tempt him. I can understand my father s motives. But I can't forgive Liu for taking advantage of the power of money. I want him to lose both me and his money. I want to teach him a lesson. Youthink that by getting married I am walking Intoa prison, but I'm not afraid. I want to walk into the prison, look around, and then fight my way out."

"Ah ... well, you've thought it all out, but I'm afraid that when the time comes you won't succeed. Not only that, it's too great a sacrifice of your individual free will. I never expected you to change into an old-fashioned filial daughter-a filial daughter who sells her body to save her father!"

"Maybe I'm still not able to break out of the traditional relation- ship between father and daughter, but I believe that my actions are genuinely in accordance with my free will," Mei said confidently as "he jumped up from the bed.

"In any case, I don't approve of sacrificing love, whatever the reason."

"I don't have any love to sacrifice." On hearing this unexpected response, Xu's eyes opened wide

with astonishment. She looked at Mei's tightly pursed lips and "learning eyes and, after a moment's hesitation, said, "That man ... who just came . . . I feel sorry for him."

Mei smiled. She walked over to Xu Qijun and grasped her hand. Smiling again, Mei said softly, "Didn't I already tell you? He's come home to get married. He believes in nonresistance. Long ago he decided to submit to fate, and he advised me to do the

"same. There was a brief silence. The two girls looked at each other for

several minutes. Then Xu spoke solemnly, "Mei, you'd better be careful that your own plan doesn't turn into nonresistance. You shouldn't take this prison too lightly. If this Wei person really loves you and you really love him, you should find a way to pluck out his nonresistance so that the two of you can search for a solution to- gether. You shouldn't just sit by and watch him sink into the sui- cidal trap of nonresistance."

The earnestness with which these words were spoken moved MeL She was deep in thought and had not yet responded when a classmate ran in; their conversation could not continue.

The second installment of their argument over this issue began that night after they had gone to bed. Generally, the closer pairs of students slept together in one bed. Mei and Xu were no exception. Under the cover of darkness their discussion became freer and bolder. Gradually, Mei revealed to Xu all the complexities of her past, forcing Xu to concede, "The way you're talking, Wei Yu has turned losing his love into something to be happy about. No, you can't even say it's losing his love. It's stranger than that. Neverthe- less, if he saw you actually married to this Liu fellow, wouldn't he be sad?"

Mei laughed but did not answer. "Someone who is that incorrigibly weak can really be depress-

ing. But it's also that kind of person who often meets a tragic end- for example, by committing suicide. Mei, you must be careful not to unintentionally destroy this person."

Stroking Mel's face, Xu casually pushed her argument to its con- clusion. Suddenly she giggled and, pressing her lips to Mei's ear, whispered, "What if the person sleeping next to you wasn't me but that Liu person? What would you do then? How would you avoid becoming a prisoner?"

"What would I do? I'll decide that when the time comes." "By that time it won't be so easy for you to be in control of the

situation. You will have already lost your freedom!" "At that time I will definitely be in control. I refuse to believe

that I can't handle a philistine." "But a philistine can sometimes be very aggressive." "There are always ways to make him not dare to be aggressive.

Anyway, as long as he's willing to come to terms with me, accede to my conditions, what difference does it make if I have to let him i have what he wants? We've already broken through the old moral attitudes about virginity, right?"

Xu Sighed and said nothing. She never dreamed that her com- panion would harbor such notions. She could not concur with these ideas, but neither could she think of an appropriate rebuttal. After a brief pause she changed the subject and said sarcastically, "Your terms, your conditions. Are you going to wait until then to decide on those, too?"

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"Maybe. But I can tell you the general principle behind them rlKht now: to make him my prisoner." As she spoke, Mei put her arms around Xu, hugged her, then laughed easily.

"Who would have thought that you were the kind of ambitious person who thinks only of the ends and not the means, a real heroine?"

As soon as she spoke these words Xu began to laugh so wildly she could not catch her breath. Mers hands had begun to assault her most ticklish spot, under her armpits. The sound of laughter and struggling took the place of their muted whispers and spread throughout the small four-bed room. As usual, two of the beds were empty. The girls sharing the other bed, who had themselves been in the midst of chattering, giggled and shouted at them, "Lovers. Be quietI Or we'll have the headmistress in here!"

Xu parried Mel's attacking fists, rolled over, and tucked her urms tightly against her sides. "Don't bother me anymore," she said, and pretended to snore. After a while she dozed off. But Mei, her mind filled with wild and confused thoughts, was unable to sleep for a long time.

What would Wei Yu's future be like? Would he really meet with u tragic end? Gradually the new issue raised by Xu began to press heavilyand persistently on Mel's mind. When she sat quietly alone reading her books she often saw Wei Yu's sunken gray cheeks and gentle, inquiring eyes drifting between the lines.

Mei was alarmed by her sudden nervous state but could not dis- pel the pressure on her soul. She carefully reviewed Wei Yu's at- titude from beginning to end and recalled the minute details of their childhood at the family school. She admitted that a love that penetrated every bone of their bodies had already joined them closely together. But now Wei Yu was acting like a deserter from battle, like a soldier who, desiring to avoid the fight, commits sui- cide as a form of passive resistance! Of course, Wei Yu's motive for acting this way was Mers "happiness." But this only made Mei feel more responsible. Enveloped in her despair, she came to hate Wei Yu, Finally, she wrote him a letter indignantly criticizing him for his improper attitude, the way a stern father would reproach a profligate son.

Wei Yu's reply came in the form of a heartbreaking meeting be- tween them. He defended himself in an unsteady voice and wished Mei a happy future. Again and again he said that as long as he was

in her heart, he was supremely content. As for committing suicide, he utterly denied any such intention. But he repeatedly brought up the subject of his tuberculosis.

That day after class Mei, breathing heavily, told Xu Qijun, "If what I have been experiencing is the pain of love, then it was not because other people obstructed that love; it was because we had no ~ay of realizing our love. That Wei Yu, I don't know how to get through to him. Sometimes I hate him, but I also pity him, love him, respect him. Maybe the thing that most makes women suffer is men like himl He keeps saying he has tuberculosis. The earlier he dies of it, the better!"

She sighed, lowered her head, and shed two tears. Xu Qijun found it strange, for it was the first time Mei had cried over this affair. But when Mei raised her head she was smiling again. She linked arms with Xu and ran all the way to the athletic field to watch their classmates play ball.

Exams were soon upon them and stretched out over a period of two weeks. Mter her Chinese exam Mei took advantage of some free time to return home. It was only then that she dis- covered that on the day of his wedding Wei Yu had coughed up blood and had been confined to bed for three days. According to the maid, Chuner, in his delirium Wei Yu had called out Mel's name.

Mel's heart skipped a beat as she thought of Xu Qijun's predic- tion. She made up her mind to go visit him, but after careful con- sideration returned to school and forced herself to get through her exams. She related this news to Xu, but between them they could not decide what to do.

The short winter vacation passed in gloom. That Xu Qijun did not return home somewhat eased Mel's loneliness, but the news about Wei Yu kept her constantly depressed. Following his wed- ding, Wei Yu's whole personality had changed. When he was not mechanically going about his job, he spent his time sitting or lying down, staring into space. Anyone speaking to him at such times could be sure to receive no answer and might even arouse his tem- per. Every day he ate less and less. His face grew ashen. His eyes lost their gentle, laughing glow and became as vacant and dispir- ited as a zombie's. He often stood absentmindedly in the icy wind and freezing rain. When it grew cold he did not put on more cloth-

4S

Inte. and when it got warmer he did not take any off. He was slowly hut steadily killing himself. He would often close his door and write. But when he was through he would laugh bitterly, tear what he had written to shreds, and burn it.

When Mei finally heard about Wei Yu's condition, she became despondent and could no longer concentrate on her school work. She found an opportunity to see Wei Yu and ask him about it face to face, but he denied everything, claiming that what she had heard were the exaggerated ramblings of idle gossips.

After the onset of the spring term, the New Thought Tide began to disrupt the schools even more violently than before, for the first time affecting people's personal lives. Dr. Hu Shi's call for "more study of problems and less talk of isms?" suited the times and soon became very popular. Mei felt that Wei Yu was among those who had been poisoned by an "ism," the poison of nonresistance. But when she tried to treat her own circumstances as a topic of study, she once again became lost in a sea of contradictions. She did not know where to turn and blamed herself for not having sufficient knowledge. Her determination to drink in all the new thought in- tensified, and she decided never again to allow her practical prob- lems to agitate her mind.

The new books and magazines were now available everywhere. Individualism, humanism, socialism, anarchism, every shade and color of competing ideologies could be found in a single magazine, each praised with equal enthusiasm. Mei accepted them all with- out the slightest discrimination. Essays that attacked traditional thought elated her. Essays that advocated individual rights stimu- lated her. Those written like promissory notes of a future society of happiness and prosperity gave her a sense of intoxication. Under the influence of this passionate current of "new thought," Mel's anxieties about Wei Yu decreased, and she forgot her own as-yet- unresolved problems.

*Hu Shi was one of China's leading twentieth-century scholars. After receiving a B.A. at Cornell and a Ph.D. at Columbia, he returned to China to teach phi- losophyat Beijing University. A disciple of John Dewey, Hu Shi pioneered the use of the vernacular in literature and was a major advocate of liberalism. His article entitled "More Study of Problems, Less Talk of Isms," published in July 1919, marked the beginning of a split between those May Fourth intellectuals who fa- vored a pragmatic approach to China's social problems and those who were de- velopmg a commitment to Marxism.

Mei passed several months in the grip of this delusive idealism. But in the end, cruel reality once again knocked at the door of her life. Her father told her that her wedding day had been set for September.

It was finally coming. Mei was not a bit surprised. She had long since thought of a method of handling the situation and really did want to give her father this opportunity to have her fiance clear his debts. She was also confident that there was a way to subjugate that philistine she was to marry. And yet, and yet, a new consideration had for a time slightly shaken her convic- tions. ~n this point Xu Qijun's lively argument had been quite persuasive.

"I have disapproved of your plan from the start. Looking at your actions just as they affect you, you are unnecessarily risking making a complete fool of yourself And you may bring serious trouble to someone close to you. Have you forgotten your nonresister? Isn't he already distraught, nearly to the point of killing himself? This proves he really cannot forget his feelings for you. So I fear that your marriage will be his death sentence. You admit you love him but in actual fact it is you who are killing him!" Leaning against a willow tree in a corner of the athletic field, Xu spoke coldly, her eyes focused on Mei's face.

"But he's already slowlycommitting suicide. He's determined to ~o so." Mei offered a feeble defense and sighed. Staring fixedly into space, she added with loathing, "I want with all my heart to do something of benefit to others, but the result is always the oppo- site. Do you mean to say I'm some kind of monster who can only hurt people?"

The realization of her human responsibility shook Mel's soul as if she had been struck by lightning. Suddenly she embraced her friend, pressed her head to Xu's shoulder, and cried. But the toughness of her nature immediately pierced through the sad- ness. She interrupted Xu's gentle words of comfort, raised her head, and said, "I don't think there's anything that can be done to save that situation. I've decided first to help my father repay his debts."

"Then you're saying you still plan to risk entering that prison?" Xu asked somewhat incredulously.

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"Yes. 'This is my Rnal decision. There are many types of prison. I'm not afraid ora prison of willow branches." I don't want to talk ..bout such unpleasant things anymore. Sister Qi, tell me about your plans for after graduation." .,

Regaining her composure, Mei changed the subject of their con- versation. Their graduation was imminent. Xu naturally wanted to ecntinue her studies, but she had not yet decided which school to enter.

"Me? I don't have any great plans. My elder brother wants me to go to Beijing. He says Beijing University is goi~g to lift its.~an on admitting women students. But my mother thinks that BeIJlOg is too far, and even though my brother is there, he'll be graduating next year. So maybe I'll go to Nanjing. I have some relatives there, hut Nanjing has no good schools. Tell me, which place is better?" Xu spoke slowly. She reached out and broke offa willow branch, re- vealing the extent of her distress.

"Any place is good as long as it isn't Sichuan," Mei promptly re- plied. A new feeling came over her. She sensed that even someone like Xu Qijun, whose life was so free of troubles, had many unre- solved longings, that although numerous promising paths lay be- fore her, she still had to choose the best one. She was determined to arrange her life in the manner most in accord with her ideals. When compared with someone who had only one path to travel, and that path covered with brambles, the difference was vast in- deed. These thoughts brought Mei to the verge of tears. Her resolute manner of a moment before withered. She smiled bitterly and added, "I'm just afraid it will never be like this again, when we can be together all the time."

"I'll definitely come home on summer vacations to see you," Xu comforted Mei with genuine sincerity. But in Mei's mind, Xu was already in some school in Beijing or Nanjing. Mei glanced at her companion and smiled.

That night Mei thought about her situation for a long time. She considered how she would play the inevitable game scheduled for this September. She thought about how she would escape, what pretext she would use to escape, and after her escape how she

*This is a pun on the surname of Mel's fiance, Liu, which means "willow."

would live. The more she thought, the more uncertain she be- came. She had no means to reach a solution. In the end the magic formula "Worry about the future when it comes" dispelled these idle thoughts. A fearless smile of self-confidence appeared on her lips and she fell asleep.

Chapter Four

Mei had lived these past three days as if in a dream. Until the eve of her wedding she had been very brave, very calm. She had concocted a number of strategies for dealing with her future husband, but when the curtain was raised for the final act, she was as panic-stricken as an actress mounting the stage for the first time. Her well-laid plans, her ideals, in the end all came to naught.

The atmosphere in the wedding hall had been suffocating, had made her feel alone and helpless. But the atmosphere in the bridal chamber made her lose all sense of herself. She became an object, a thing. Her intelligence, her quick wit, her ability to manipulate others, everything that had been so well ordered in her mind be- came utterly useless at the crucial moment.

At first she had believed that as long as her opponent remained under her control, it would not matter what he did. Because of this, she had prepared several "conditions" for him. But later she had read Yosano Akiko's essay "On Virginity" in New Youth, and her beliefs had changed. * Her self-respect as a virgin would not al- lowher to casually relinquish her chastity to a despicable man. Wei Yu's pitiful condition also gave her new resolve. Two days before her wedding day she had secretly written Wei Yu a letter. In it were written only two lines of poetry: "The silkworm produces its

*Yosano Akiko was a well-known Japanese poet. a portion of whose essay "As a Person and a Woman" appeared in translation in the May 15. 1918. issue of New Youth.

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