A Flower’s Shade (23 page)

These words staggered both Suqin and Ai'ai, for they held a secret to be protected at all costs. Evidently, the secret had already begun to torment Xiaoyun. Suqin prevented Xiaoyun from going on. "You really have lost your senses." she turned her head and looked all about. "What do you mean, you can't deceive her? Do you really want to tell the truth about Naixiang? Xiaoyun, this is no time to play the fool. Let me tell you, neither Ai'ai nor I will ever say anything, and no one else even knows. If you don't speak, no one ever could know."

"But we can't keep her in the dark forever. I can't wear a mask all my life. A true man should take responsibility for his actions. Since I did the deed, I shouldn't be afraid to own up to it." Xiaoyun was distraught, and he couldn't help flaring up again. He turned his head slowly and looked coldly at Naixiang, sitting there like a puppet. Then he turned and left.

In confusion, Suqin watched Xiaoyun leave, her heart beating heavily. The sense of foreboding flooded into her again. She said to herself, "I know something bad will happen—really, something bad will happen." She looked at Ai'ai, who was still sulking, and sighed as she shook her head, her gaze wandering to Naixiang in his wheelchair. Naixiang, that living corpse, sat there like a stage prop, shifted around by people, without any consciousness. "What will happen? Nothing must be allowed to happen." she said to Ai'ai, "If this devil really did wake up again…what would we do? I keep thinking, the devil knows the score, he knows everything, maybe he even knows that Xiaoyun poisoned his opium when he was preparing it."

Ai'ai felt it all building up inside her and in truth she wanted to lash out. But it was like her chest was sealed tight, and she couldn't let all those wrongs and resentments break out. She rolled her eyes at Suqin in distaste, and interrupted her knitting. Gloatingly, she said, "Of course he knows. If he really did wake up, it'd be fine with me. He'd see what was going on, what was going on in this Estate of lecherous men and whoring women, he'd see all that went on, wouldn't he?"

As Ai'ai spoke she yanked forcefully at the yarn, tearing out half of the knitting she had just done.

"Damn it, what's the matter with you?" Suqin shouted in surprise. She walked up to Ai'ai and held her like she was consoling a child, "Why get all worked up, when there's nothing wrong?"

"I'm not upset. If I want to tear out my own knitting, what's that to you?" Ai'ai shouted, her eyes red, was striving to keep the welling tears from pouring down her cheeks. Suqin knew why Ai'ai was upset, and knew what she was thinking, but she could think of no better ploy than to keep speaking, keep trying to soothe her with consoling words. "Don't, Ai'ai, I won't let you. Don't worry, I'll never forget you, I'll never change the way I feel about you." She tried to turn Ai'ai's face towards her, but Ai'ai pushed her away in disgust.

H
uaifu was once again wandering about in the dark. The sky was sprinkled with stars and the frogs were croaking. Huaifu was like a wandering spirit, drifting about, not far from Miss Yu's room. Intense moaning could be heard coming out of Miss Yu's room. The sound had a particular allure for him, it was like noise from the apocalypse. Huaifu was powerless to stop the noise, and so every day all he could do was to monitor and endure it. As he cursed Miss Yu and Xiaoyun in their ecstasies, he spied on the lecherous, fornicating, couple.

Restlessly, Huaifu walked up to a great tree and suddenly threw his arms around it, embracing it with terrible might and striking his head against it. Miss Yu's intense moaning seemed to be everywhere. As an observer, Huaifu could not understand what Xiaoyun had that could attract Miss Yu. They behaved like enemies, arguing whenever they ran into each other, like two flints, certain to strike sparks whenever they made contact. They were always trading provocations, needling each other, never letting up. He had once heard Miss Yu say very passionately to Xiaoyun, "I'm just such a fool, why should I take a fancy to such an unprepossessing fellow, everybody has to do as I say, everybody has to listen to me, yet I pick the one who's always setting himself up against me." Women really were incredible monsters, and Huaifu couldn't understand why, as Xiaoyun became nastier, more peculiar, colder—the more she liked him. There was no doubt that Miss Yu was growing more and more attached to Xiaoyun, that she was falling under his control, into his grip.

Huaifu was slinking this way and that, aimlessly, on this summer night when sleep was hard to come by. He happened to find himself in Suqin's courtyard. In the moonlight, Ai'ai was standing there, all alone. Though he approached her as quiet as a ghost, Ai'ai seemed to have grasped who he was. Far from being afraid, she simply stood there motionlessly, like she was made of stone. Just as Huaifu was about to open his mouth to speak, Ai'ai waved him off. With a morbid gesture, she indicated Suqin's room, keeping her pointed hand raised for a long time, without letting it fall.

There was some kind of noise in Suqin's pitch-dark room. The moonlight washed over them. Ai'ai's face bore an expression of total calm. Her hand still showed the direction, and Huaifu couldn't help but moving towards the window. From the window, he suddenly heard the sound of a woman's moaning. It was a very low sound, trailing off from time to time, only audible if you held your breath. For a moment, Huaifu thought this was Miss Yu's voice, but quickly realized that this was not the case. Miss Yu's voice was always passionate, and this was obviously a low, forceful sound coming from the depths of a different woman. Seen through the chink of the window, the room was pitch-dark as night; nothing could be made out. There was the rhythmic creaking of the boards, and Huaifu suddenly could make out the sound of Suqin panting and whispering. She was monotonously repeating the same few words, accompanied by the sound of the boards of the bed beating and the sound of heavy masculine panting.

Ai'ai quietly approached Huaifu, her face distorted with an almost deranged sneer. The sound in the room finally stopped, silence fell, just as the noisy croaking of the frogs seemed also to come to an end. Huaifu was suddenly afraid. What was it about the Estate, that there were entirely shameless men and women, everywhere, on this mad and sweltering night? He suddenly realized the awkwardness of his position. Since he had entered the Estate, Huaifu and Ai'ai had never formally spoken. They were perhaps similar in that they were both in extremely delicate positions. This was the first time they met one-on-one, and this made them co-conspirators.

Whispered conversation in Suqin's room could be heard. Huaifu turned to leave this infamous place, but Ai'ai obstinately tugged at his wrist, unwilling to let him leave so abruptly. Childishly, she dragged him towards her own room. Having discovered Suqin's trysts, Ai'ai had ignored all of Suqin's protestations and sulkily moved back into her own room. Without any explanation she tugged Huaifu in, and since Huaifu did not want make any noise to alarm anyone, he obediently followed her. Ai'ai was so thin and small, so tiny that she barely came up to Huaifu's chest. Finally, as she had intended, she had taken Huaifu to her own room.

For a moment Huaifu entirely misunderstood Ai'ai's intentions, and inevitably he became aroused. In order to cover up his awkward condition, he had to stoop slightly and face Ai'ai obliquely. Ai'ai was not Miss Yu, but if Ai'ai was willing, why shouldn't she replace Miss Yu? This idea only crossed his mind, because he instantly understood that Miss Yu was absolutely irreplaceable. No other woman on earth could compare. Besides, Ai'ai's invitation to come to her room was not at all in order to make love to him. Evidently, she harbored some other purpose.

Naixiang was sitting in the dark. Ai'ai approached him, and wheeled Naixiang into the moonlight. The moonlight fell on Naixiang's rigid face. Huaifu fixed him with a stare, and, his voice choking, he cried, "Cousin!"

Tears were flowing from his withered eyes. Huaifu was stunned, having always believed that Naixiang was not conscious. Now it seemed that this was not entirely the case. Naixiang evidently was still aware of something, he still had some shreds of consciousness. What Huaifu found even more shocking was that Ai'ai was weeping, she was sobbing quietly, motioning for Huaifu to raise Naixiang slightly up. Huaifu instantly understood what she intended. With strength that even he could barely credit, when Ai'ai motioned for them to lift him together, Huaifu bent over slightly and lifted Naixiang and wheelchair up together.

Ai'ai went ahead to show the way. Huaifu was excited with a kind of vengeful pleasure. He didn't know who the man in Suqin's room was, but whoever it was, he loathed him. As Xiaoyun's sister, Suqin had become his mortal enemy, alongside her brother. His weapon had already softened, but now astonishingly it rose up again, like an unconquerable sword. Huaifu detested every man in this Estate. Under Ai'ai's directions, and under the prompting of enmity, Huaifu lightly carried Naixiang to the door of Suqin's room.

T
he lamplight in the room glowed brightly. Ai'ai changed into some brightly-colored clothes, and sat in front of the dressing table, her expression indifferent, looking vacantly at herself in the mirror. It was obvious that her clothing was not entirely appropriate to the season. It was already summer, but she had changed into a quilted jacket. Regarding the enormous but unspeakable secret of the Zhen Estate, Ai'ai had passed the whole truth on to Huaifu. Having finished telling him this secret, she had allowed him to leave. His dread had led him to only half-believe what she had told him.

In the dressing table's mirror, she could see two small bars of gold that lay on the table's surface. Ai'ai had already made preparations for suicide. The world no longer held anything to which Ai'ai felt attached. Ever since she had discovered that Suqin was unfaithful to her, the temptation of death had constantly lingered about her. Death was a permanent way to dispose of all her troubles. Ai'ai couldn't help but think of all the scenes that would occur after her death, how Suqin would look, stroking her corpse and wailing.

At this time, Suqin was in bed, sleeping with Liangzhong. Perhaps it didn't matter to her at all what would become of Ai'ai. Ai'ai thought about the eagerness Suqin had shown upon meeting Liangzhong, and experienced a wave of disgust. Men had once disgusted them so much; their shared disgust of men had allowed their intimate relationship to develop. Even now, Ai'ai still couldn't bring herself really to hate Suqin, since of all the women she had ever met, Suqin had treated her best.

Nor could Ai'ai could forget the happy times she and Suqin had spent together. They had evaded the oppression of men, living in a world without them, liberated and carefree. Naixiang's incapacity had allowed the intriguing jealous women forever to escape from their position as sex slaves. They no longer needed to plot to earn Naixiang's favor, to attain one more or one fewer sexual encounter, to bickering endlessly. Men were at the root of women's trouble, and when men ceased to exist, their troubles had left with them.

"Ai'ai, you really are my one and only." Ai'ai seemed once more to hear Suqin speaking these words. She liked to hear such sentimental words. Only a woman of profound understanding could realize what pleasure could be shared by two women. Women knew what women needed, it was easier for a woman to sound the depths of a woman's heart. Ai'ai believed that once she had really left this world, Suqin would really experience the pain of losing her. Only when a person actually loses something, does she understand what she once possessed. The only way of realizing what you have is to lose it.

Ai'ai powdered her cheeks. She wasn't the kind of woman who was improved by make-up, and it made her face look as pale as a corpse. She was pale to begin with, with delicate skin, smooth as a child's, and the heavy powder kept dropping from her face and onto her shoulders, onto the two golden strips on the dressing table, but still she kept applying the powder. The clothing she had on had been made to measure in the autumn of the year she had entered the Zhen Estate. That autumn, two tailors had come in and worked for two months. Ai'ai could still remember how a tailor had asked incredulously, as he measured her, "Are you really the young master's new bride?"

Nobody understood why Ai'ai had stopped growing. Ever since entering the Estate at age fourteen, she had remained childlike in appearance. Aside from the expression of gloom in her eyes or the answer she gave when asked her age, she appeared to have just entered puberty. She had small, pointed, firm breasts, peeking out of her clothes like the heads of mice coming out of their burrows. Compared with her breasts, Suqin's breasts were large and slack; only the black nipple was firm, growing hard if fondled. Ai'ai had never been infatuated with Suqin's tall body, she had been infatuated with her own self, with how her petite body could become the object of someone's infatuation.

It was getting darker and darker again, which was the harbinger of dawn. Ai'ai eyes focussed on the two strips of gold on the dressing table. She picked up one of them and carefully examined it. She knew that it was already time for Liangzhong to leave. Liangzhong might be putting on his clothes, or he might be fawning over her in all kinds of disgusting ways. Suqin was certainly totally bare, she seemed to be unaware of how ugly her body was, she would look like a white ghost, her fat bottom protruding, leaning on the windowsill looking out, and then reluctantly opening the door for Liangzhong. Then, Liangzhong would sneak out like a thief.

Ai'ai popped the strip of gold lightly in her mouth like a candy and held it there, savoring it. She thought of how Liangzhong, trying to sneak out, would be blocked by Naixiang and half-frightened to death; the idea made her laugh out loud. She thought of his frightened appearance, and felt pleasure rippling through her whole body. The moment for it all to end had come, she swallowed the gold strip of gold, and before the pain could start, she quickly swallowed the second gold strip. A feeling of pressure bearing down on her throat prevented her from drawing breath. She tried to choke her own throat with her own hands, then made a strange sound. It was too late to change her mind. She rushed over to the bed.