Three Sisters Read online

  She mailed her letter, after which she looked for something to keep herself busy; but she found nothing. So she decided to simply rest, and as she sat in a chair, she fell asleep.

  During the days that Yumi waited for a return letter, she turned Hongbing over to Yusui, since she wanted to wait for the postman at the bridgehead. She fretted over the contents of Peng Guoliang's return letter. If he was going to tell her he no longer wanted her, that letter must not fall into the hands of anyone else. She was prepared to take a knife to anyone who even attempted to open her letter. That would be too great a loss of face. So she waited at the bridgehead, but no letter came. What arrived in its place was a bundle that included Yumi's photographs and all the letters she'd sent to Peng Guoliang. All those ugly missives in her own hand. As she looked down at her photographs and handwritten letters, the anguish she'd anticipated did not materialize for some reason. What she felt instead was a crippling embarrassment, such a deep-seated embarrassment she felt like jumping off the bridge.

  And then, at that very moment, Youqing's wife appeared. Wanting to hide the contents of her bundle, Yumi carelessly let something fall to the ground. It was her photograph. It lay there, a base, shameless object that had the audacity to smile. Youqing's wife saw it before Yumi could grind it into the roadway with her foot, and the look on her face revealed that she knew everything. Yumi was ashamed to even look at Youqing's wife, who bent down and picked up the photograph. But when she straightened up she saw danger in Yumi's eyes. Fierce determination showed in those eyes, the composure of someone unafraid to face death. Youqing's wife grabbed Yumi by the shoulders and dragged her off to her house, where she led her into the bedroom, a poorly lit room in which Yumi's gaze appeared unusually bright and extraordinarily hard. Emerging from a face that was otherwise blank, that brightness and hardness had a terrifying effect. Taking Yumi by the hand, Youqing's wife pleaded with her, "Yumi, go ahead and cry, for my sake at least."

  That comment softened Yumi's gaze, which slowly shifted toward Youqing's wife. As her lips twitched, Yumi said softly, "Sister Fenxiang." Though barely audible, those two words seemed to spray from her mouth like flesh and blood, like beams of blood-tinged light. Youqing's wife was stunned, never expecting Yumi to call her that. In all the years since marrying into Wang Family Village, what, in effect, was she, Youqing's wife? A sow, maybe, or a bitch? Who had ever actually viewed her as a woman? Being addressed as Sister Fenxiang by Yumi knocked over her emotional spice bottle and filled her with even greater sadness than Yumi felt. She could not contain herself; a shout burst from her throat as she flung herself onto Yumi's body and smothered her sobs on the girl's breast. As she did so, there was a sudden movement in her belly. It was, she knew instinctively, a kick from the tiny Wang Lianfang. Thoughts of what was inside her took the edge off her emotional turmoil and kept her from sobbing or making any more sounds. If not for Wang Lianfang, she and Yumi could well have enjoyed a close sisterly relationship. But the girl was Wang's eldest daughter, an inescapable fact that closed off all possibilities. Youqing's wife could say nothing. And so, after steadying her breathing, she managed to get her emotions under control.

  As Youqing's wife raised her head and dried her tears, she saw that Yumi's gaze had settled on her. The absence of any observable emotion behind that look threw a fright into her. Yumi's face was ashen, but there was nothing unusual about her expression, and Youqing's wife found that hard to imagine. But there it was, not something that could be faked. "Yumi," she said warily.

  Yumi pulled her head back. "Don't worry, I'm not about to kill myself. I want to see what happens next. You can help me by not saying anything to anybody about this."

  She actually smiled when she said this, and although the smile lacked the appearance of mockery, the intent was unmistakable. Youqing's wife knew that Yumi was chiding her for being nosy. Yumi took off her jacket and wrapped the photographs and letters up in it. Then, without a word, she opened the door and walked out, leaving Youqing's wife alone and frozen in her bedroom.

  See what I've done, she said to herself. I wanted to help out but wound up being a busybody. If any of this gets out, Yumi will hate me even more.

  Yumi slept through the afternoon. Then in the quiet, late hours of the night she went into the kitchen and lay down behind the stove, where she unbuttoned her blouse and gently fondled her breasts. Although it was her hands that were moving, the sensation was the same as if Peng Guoliang were fondling her. What a shame it had to be her own hands. Slowly she moved them down to the spot where she had stopped him. But this time she was going to do for him what she had not allowed him to do. She lay weakly on the straw, her body gradually heating up, hotter and hotter, uncontrollably, feverishly hot, so she forced herself to stir. But no matter how she moved, it didn't feel right. She hungered for a man to fill her up and, at the same time, finish her off. It didn't matter who, so long as it was a man. In those quiet, late hours of the night, Yumi was again consumed by regret. And as remorse took over, her fingers abruptly jammed their way inside. The sharp pain actually brought with it enormous comfort. The insides of her thighs were irrigated by a warm liquid. You unwanted cunt, she thought to herself, what made you think you should save yourself for the bridal chamber?

  Unhappy women are all subject to the same phenomenon: Marriage comes with unanticipated suddenness. During the three months of summer, the busiest season, farmers are fighting for time with the soil. Yumi shocked everyone by getting married during these busy days. Acres of wheat had turned yellow under a blazing sun, spiky awns reaching up to reflect light in all directions like static fountains. At this time of year the sun's rays are fragrant, carrying the aroma of wheat as they light up the ground and cast a veil over the villages. But for farmers, these are not pleasure-filled days, for the feminine qualities of the earth are heaving with the passion of ovulation and birthing, passions beyond their control as they grow soft in the sunlight and exude bursts of the rich, mellow essence of their being. The earth yearns to be overturned by the hoe and the plow, and thus be reborn, and to let the early summer waters flow over and submerge it. Moans of pleasure escape at the moment the earth is bathed and slowly freed from its bindings, bringing contentment and tranquillity. Exhausted, it falls into a sound, blissful sleep. The earth takes on the new face of a watery bride. With her eyes shut, a blush rises and falls on her face, a silent command and a silent plea: "Come on, more, I want more." The farmers dare not slack off; their hair, their sleeves, and their mouths are covered with the smell of new wheat.

  But, filled with elation, they put that smell aside, muster their strength, and rush about, picking up seedlings and planting them in the ground, one at a time, each in a spot that satisfies the earth. Bent at the waist, the farmers never cut corners, for every seedling that enters the ground depends on their movements. Ten acres, a hundred, a thousand, vast fields of seedlings. At first the little plants are strawlike, pliant, bashful, and because of the water, narcissistic. But in a matter of days the earth becomes aware of the secret it possesses and is at peace. It is languid; soft snores emerge from its sleep.

  Amid this flurry of activity, Yumi's wedding got under way. Viewed in retrospect, she was in too big a hurry to get married, much the same as Liu Fenxiang. But Yumi's wedding easily outstripped Fenxiang's. She was fetched in a speedboat reserved for the exclusive use of commune officials, on which two red cut-out "double happiness" characters were affixed to the windshield.

  Yumi's match had been arranged by her father. Shortly after the Qingming festival had passed and the weather began to warm, just as farmers were soaking their seeds, Wang Lianfang returned to Wang Family Village to pick up some clothes for his use elsewhere. After supper, having no place to go, he sat at the table smoking a cigarette. Yumi stood in the kitchen doorway and called to him. She did not say "Papa," but called him "Wang Lianfang."

  Hearing his daughter call him by name struck Wang Lianfang as unusual. He stubbed out his cigarette, stood up, and
walked slowly into the kitchen, where Yumi was looking down at the floor, hands behind her back as she stood against the wall. Wang Lianfang pulled up a stool, sat down, and lit a second cigarette. "So," he said, "what do you want?"

  Yumi did not reply immediately; but after a moment, she said, "I want you to find me a man." Wang Lianfang just sat there; sensing what had happened with Peng Guoliang, he chose not to say anything. Instead, he took seven or eight drags on his cigarette, the tip of which flared up as it burned down, creating a long ash that hung from the end. Yumi tilted her head up and said, "I don't care what he's like. I have only one condition: He must be a man who wields power. Otherwise I'll stay single."

  The meeting phase of Yumi's courtship proceeded in total secrecy and had a number of new twists—scheduled to take place in the county movie theater, it would be unique from start to finish. The commune speedboat came for her at sunset, a magnificent scene witnessed by many villagers from their vantage point on the stone pier. The speedboat sent waves rushing madly to the banks, fearlessly provocative as they tossed the pitiful farmers' skiffs. Yumi stepped grandly into the speedboat, but no one who saw her knew why she was leaving. All anyone in Wang Family Village knew was that Yumi was "on her way to the county town."

  Yumi arrived in town for the meeting. The man she was to meet did not work there, but at the commune. Guo Jiaxing, deputy director of the revolutionary committee, was a ranking official in charge of the People's Militia. Aboard the speedboat Yumi had silently congratulated herself for making that vow to her father in absolute terms, a break from traditions that would have denied her such an opportunity. She was going to be a second wife, so she did not expect Guo Jiaxing to be a young man, and for that she was well-prepared. As the saying goes: "A knife is not sharp on both edges; sugarcane is not sweet at both ends."

  On a personal level this made no difference to Yumi, for whom power was the key to living well. So long as the man she married possessed that power, a new beginning was assured for her family, and once that happened, no one in Wang Family Village would ever again send their stench her way. On this point she was more determined than even her father, who, she assumed, had been concerned about the difference in age, for he'd hemmed and hawed, obviously reluctant to tell her. She stopped him before he could speak, since she already knew what he wanted to say, and she didn't give a damn.

  Night had fallen when Yumi entered the county town for the first time, and thanks to the blazing lamps along both sides of the street, the town appeared quite prosperous. Like a headless housefly, she was emotionally disoriented as she walked down the street. Despite the fact that her confidence was in tatters, she was driven to fight for what she wanted, to win what she'd come for, and to spare no effort to reach her goal. No longer the Yumi of the past, she had narrowed her aspirations, but was more determined, more stubborn than ever. She paused in front of a shop where fruit was suspended in the air. She had to stop for a long moment before she figured out that she was seeing a reflection in a mirror. Then she saw her own reflection and was struck by the contrast between her homely attire and the finer clothes of the shop clerk. I should have worn Liu Fenxiang's costume. Thinking she wanted a piece of fruit, the boat skipper insisted on buying it for her. She reached out and pulled him back.

  "Our young commune member has a strong arm," he said with a laugh.

  Yet another moment of truth had arrived when Yumi found herself in front of the New China Cinema, where a red banner stretched across a high wall proclaimed: FERVENT CONGRATULATIONS ON THE SUCCESSFUL OPENING OF THE COUNTY PEOPLE'S MILITIA WORKING CONFERENCE!

  Yumi now understood that Guo was attending a conference in town. The skipper handed her a cinema ticket.

  "I'll wait for you out here," he said.

  You definitely know how to toady up to your superiors, Yumi thought. Who asked you to wait? I'm not married yet. But then she had a change of heart. Go ahead, wait, if that's what you want. I'll put in a good word for you if I get the chance.

  The movie had already begun when Yumi parted the curtain. The theater was pitch-black in front of an enormous color screen on which a policeman was smoking a cigarette, his nostrils, it seemed to her, as big as open wells. She had trouble believing what she saw. How was it possible to make someone as big or as small as you wanted? Gripping her ticket tightly, she looked around and started to feel nervous, unsure of what to do next. Fortunately, an usher with a flashlight walked up and showed her to her seat.

  Yumi's heart raced. Happily, this was not the first time she was to meet a prospective mate, a thought that had the desired effect. Calmly she sat down between a man in his fifties to her left and one in his sixties to her right. Both seemed absorbed in the movie. Not knowing which of the two she'd come to meet, she sat stiffly without sneaking a look in either direction. The man, whichever one it was, obviously carried himself in a way that you would expect from a commune official, keeping his composure in the presence of a woman. If her father had been able to do that, they wouldn't be in the state they were in now. Yumi told herself that Guo Jiaxing must have his reasons for not speaking to her in public, so she'd be wise to keep her eyes trained straight ahead.

  For Yumi, the movie was an excruciating experience, since she got so little out of it. But it was dark inside, so eventually she felt bold enough to observe her neighbors out of the corner of her eye. From what she could see, the fifty-year-old looked a little better, and if she'd had a voice in the matter, he'd be her choice. But there was no movement from that side. If only he'd brush his foot against hers, she'd know that she was right. As she watched the action on the screen, she began to worry that the meeting might not take place at all. She was tense and growing anxious. Can't you touch my foot? What's wrong with that?

  Still, even if it was the sixty-year-old, Yumi was prepared to accept the match. As they say, "After this village there will be no more inns." There were few bachelors among the official ranks, though she would still have preferred a man in his fifties. Like a raffle player looking for a bit of luck, she sat through the movie, so fatigued at the end that she was nearly gasping for breath. She had no idea what the film had been about, although the ending was pretty predictable: The man who looked to be the bad guy turned out to be just that and was taken into custody by a member of the Public Security Bureau.

  The lights came on; the movie was over. The man in his fifties got up and walked off to the left, the one in his sixties walked off to the right, both leaving Yumi sitting where she was. What a surprise that was. Neither one had said a word. Yumi wondered why. But then the truth hit her: Whoever it was, he must not have liked what he saw while she sat there foolishly trying to pick him out in the dark. She was mortified. No wonder the skipper said he'd wait outside. He knew what was going to happen all along.

  Yumi walked out of the theater, her confidence shredded. The skipper was waiting by one of the posts, and she could not bear to look him in the eye.

  "We're ready," he said. Yumi was so spent all she wanted was to lie down somewhere.

  "I guess you can take me home now," she said, despite her embarrassment.

  "I do what Director Guo tells me to do," he said with no observable expression.

  When she was settled into Room 315 of the People's Guesthouse, her mind was in a fog, and she quickly fell asleep, although it didn't feel much like sleep to her. Maybe she was dreaming. At around ten o'clock there was a knock at the door.

  "Are you in there?" a voice asked. "It's me, Guo."

  Yumi wondered if she was hallucinating. Another knock at the door. Knowing how unwise it would be to hesitate, she flipped on the light and opened the door a crack. A man she'd never seen before pushed open the door and walked in, his face cold, devoid of expression. Fortunately for Yumi, she spotted the conference ID badge pinned to his lapel with his name: Guo Jiaxing. Overjoyed, she felt as if she'd been rescued from a desperate situation and been given a new lease on life. He hadn't gone to the cinema after all.

  Yumi l
owered her head, only to recall that she wasn't fully dressed. She glanced up at Guo Jiaxing, thinking she'd get dressed, but she did not like what she saw. This was not a man who had come to meet a prospective mate; he seemed more like a passerby. Yumi's heart was in her throat.

  "I'd like some water," Guo said as he sat down in one of the chairs. Yumi didn't know what else to do, and for that reason, she did as he said. He took the water from Yumi, who stood there feeling foolish; by then she'd forgotten all about getting dressed. Guo neither looked at Yumi nor averted his eyes as he sat there, teacup in hand. He had brown eyes, she saw, which were focused on a spot directly ahead, but with a look of indifference. He drank his water slowly, one sip after another, until the cup was empty.

  "Some more?" she asked. He responded only by setting the cup on the table—his way of saying no, apparently. Unable to think of anything more to say, Yumi just stood there, not sure if she should get dressed or not.

  How could anybody be that calm, that unruffled? He says nothing, he does nothing, his face has all the expressiveness of a conference hall. Her anxieties increased. Well, that's it, she said to herself. He doesn't like what he sees. But wait, he may not seem thrilled, but he doesn't look dissatisfied. Maybe he's already decided it's a workable match.

  Officials are expected to act like this. As long as they think something's okay, then it's okay, and there's no need to say any more. But this was different; Yumi was, after all, a young woman, not a block of wood. Besides, they were alone, so he had no reason not to do something. She stood there feeling foolish until she too grew increasingly calm.

  How strange, she said to herself. All of a sudden I'm as calm as if I were attending the conference. But that did nothing to lessen her fear of Guo Jiaxing.