This Is as Good as Life Gets

Early the next morning, the sun was blazing. The curtains blocked the morning light, and a bird perched on the windowsill, chirping without pause. On the wide, comfortable bed, Gong Xue rolled over and woke up. For a few seconds she was dazed; the person beside her was already gone. She called out again and again: "Little Chen? Little Chen?" No answer. She tried to get up and let out a sudden "aiyo"—she was still sore—and only then realized she was still bare naked. She propped herself up, got out of bed, took her clothes and dressed, then spotted the traces left on the bed and turned red to the tips of her ears. The day before, the two of them had repeatedly carried out a zero-to-twenty-centimeter opposing-motion displacement. Amid the downpour and thunder, she had felt as if a red-hot iron rod had been thrust into a pile of cotton. Her whole body was set alight, swinging back and forth between pain and pleasure, rising and plunging, and she had no idea when she finally fell asleep. "..." Gong Xue bit her lip and stared at the bedsheet for a good while before stripping it off to wash later. Then she noticed a note left on the table, a new towel draped over the washstand, toothbrush and toothpaste in a cup, and water heating on the stove outside. The water was burbling and steaming—already at a rolling boil. She gave a little humph and limped out of the room to wash up, then went out into the courtyard. After the rain the sky was washed clean. The paving stones had already dried, the rainwater having drained away through hidden channels. The few patches of earth left for planting trees were still damp, and a few weeds had miraculously sprouted. The fierce sunlight mingled with the cool that had not yet dispersed, and a wonderfully pleasant feeling drifted through the air. Gong Xue stretched her arms and let out a long breath; she felt full and loose in body and mind. "Clank, clank!" Outside the side gate came the sound of someone fishing for keys. With a creak, Chen Qi pushed his bicycle in, a plain old-fashioned food box dangling from one hand. "You're up? Why didn't you sleep in a little longer?" "It's past eight already! What did you buy?" "I went too late—they'd sold out, so they made this up fresh for me. Come on, let's eat inside." The rear courtyard had three bedrooms, a sitting room, a study, a book room, a kitchen, a dining room, a storage room, and the attic above... The dining room was a bit large. They had eaten there the day before, but with only the two of them now, there was no need. The antiques and relics were kept mainly in the study and the book room. Chen Qi made no particular effort to pursue tradition. He had always wanted to live in a modern luxury home; this courtyard had been a stopgap from the start. The two of them went into the master bedroom. He opened the food box: a plate of steamed buns, two fried dough sticks, some pickles, and porridge and soy milk in enamel mugs, lidded so nothing would spill. He took the buns and porridge for himself and pushed the soy milk and dough sticks across, smiling. "The soy milk's plain—no telling whether you Shanghai people take it savory or sweet, so fix it yourself." "Savory, of course! You need pieces of fried dough stick, light soy sauce, minced pickled mustard tuber from Yuyao in Ningbo, dried shrimp from Zhoushan, nori from Jiangsu, scallion greens—then you scoop up a ladle of soy milk, raise it high, and whoosh, it plunges straight down into the bowl..." Gong Xue talked as she worked. Unfortunately the ingredients were incomplete; after all her fiddling, she ended up with a bowl of something the consistency of paste. "Haha!" "What are you laughing at? That's how we all eat it." "No, no..." Chen Qi couldn't help laughing. Good grief—one Beijing swell, one Shanghai swell, each more particular than the other. Now that was authentic! As they ate breakfast, he suddenly asked, "Does it still hurt?" "It hurts!" Gong Xue flushed and huffed, "It's all your fault. You were like a madman." "I was mad, but you were enjoying yourself too." "I was not!" "Weren't you? When I called you 'good sister,' you were shaking so hard..." "Stop it!!!" Gong Xue covered her face, wishing she could crawl into a crack in the floor. The truth was, she didn't understand it herself—whenever he called her "good sister," she seemed to get terribly excited, as if some switch had been flipped and her whole body was about to burst. Chen Qi kept teasing. She was thin-skinned; she flung down her chopsticks and made to leave, but he pulled her back. "All right, all right, I'll stop. I'll go get you a leave of absence in a bit—you just rest here today and don't do a thing." "Then what will Ji Chunhua and the others think? We just had dinner together yesterday, and now you're asking for leave for me?" "I'll just say the two of us went off to study Mama, Love Me Once More. It'll be fine." After the meal, Chen Qi left first. Gong Xue lay back on the bed for a while. Feeling somewhat recovered, she got up, found a big basin, and washed the bedsheet. Then she found several of his undershirts and socks and washed those too. After that she went up to the attic and read in the sun. Looking to the right, she saw the whole courtyard spread out, and beyond it a stretch of low single-story houses. Looking to the left, through the tall window, lay Shichahai in summer, green water rippling, pleasure boats drifting with sightseers... She suddenly felt that this was as good as life ever got. She was satisfied in every way, yet she knew this was only her own goal in life. Where Chen Qi's goal lay, no one seemed to know yet. ............ Chen Qi went to Beijing Film Studio and arranged her leave. Then he sought out Li Jianqun, meaning to have a talk with her before he left. Li Jianqun had fitted into the crew very well. As the saying goes, a person with poetry and books in her belly carries a glow about her; whether someone is educated shows directly in their bearing, and beside that bunch of rough fellows she was utterly dominant. "My company is desperate for talent—every position. I think you've got real potential. Any interest in coming to work for me? The pay would match a Beijing Film Studio art designer's." "I haven't decided yet." "Your personal situation still isn't settled?" "I'm embarrassed to admit it!" Li Jianqun, always progressive in her thinking and rather bold, couldn't help turning fussy and hesitant when it came to matters of the heart. "Tell you what—I'll have a word with my people. If you decide to join, just go to them directly." "Thank you for thinking so highly of me!" After finishing with her, Chen Qi briefed everyone on everything that needed briefing, then went to the Overseas Chinese Store and bought several sets of women's clothing, inside and out, before heading back to Lechunfang. Gong Xue had already made dinner and was waiting for him to come home and eat. She loved this feeling of life, and she was happy to wash his clothes, cook his meals, and take care of everything—as far as she was concerned, whether she was a movie star had nothing to do with such things. ... Night. The evening news ended, and the familiar strains of "Fisherman's Song at Dusk" rose in the background. The Weather Forecast had gone through many versions, but that music had never changed. Weather forecasts in those days were crude in the extreme—no animation, just a hand-drawn map of China marked with cities and weather symbols. Then came a rerun of a TV drama. It was Wang Fulin's Eighteen Years in the Enemy Camp, nine episodes in all. Gong Xue had changed into a new set of underclothes. Her bare legs drawn up, still shy, she leaned against Chen Qi's chest. The show was really rather ordinary, but she watched with keen interest—except that a hand kept roaming restlessly over her body, making it impossible to concentrate. Chen Qi was fifteen centimeters taller than her; she felt very petite, and slim with it, her waist so slender a hand could close around it. Her skin was naturally very good, only roughened a little by too many hardships; after she became a star she had paid attention to caring for it and recovered somewhat, smoother and finer than most people of this era. "Stop it!" Gong Xue pressed down on his hand and suddenly shifted forward to dodge. That red-hot iron rod made her flustered again—and a little afraid. Chen Qi had been rich in experience in his previous life. Two years after arriving here, at an age when even the sight of an ant could get him hard, and having now tasted the flesh, he was inevitably clinging and insistent, his hands forever wandering and exploring over her... "No... really, no. I'm still sore." "Then..." "Hmm?" Gong Xue listened to his "instructions" whispered at her ear, embarrassed beyond words, and puzzled too: "Where did you learn this stuff?" "From miscellaneous old books. The ancients had plenty of dirty books. Shall we try?" "No!" "Aiya~" "Mmph! Mmph! Mmph!"