Parting Again

"Flowers of happiness bloom in the heart, songs of love drift away on the wind, our hearts fly toward the distance, longing for that beautiful revolutionary ideal..." At dawn, industrious Sister Xue had already begun the day's bustle. Smoke rose from the little kitchen in the back courtyard. She tied on an apron and hummed cheerfully, wearing no powder or paint, her hair tied casually at the back of her head, with the beauty of a virtuous wife at home and all the world content. She had cut the pickled vegetables into shreds and stir-fried a few slices of meat, with a little extra sauce, then lifted the lid of another pot. Noodles were boiling inside. Boiling noodles took real experience. Someone who didn't know how always put in too much or too little. The key was this: when you felt there wasn't enough, and your meddling hands itched to add a bit more, holding back was the right move. It was sure to be just right. When they were nearly done, she laid a handful of cabbage leaves underneath—Beijing had no green leafy vegetables in winter either—then scooped them out and poured the meat slices, sauce and all, over the top with a sizzle. Ha! The fragrance rushed up! She carried them in on a tray to the master bedroom. Seeing Chen Qi still lazing in bed, she couldn't help pressing her lips into a smile. Last night he had been like a young calf, plowing away on her with all his strength, and they hadn't slept until the middle of the night. Both of them were a bit past bearing it—they couldn't go at it anymore. Any more, and the skin would rub raw... "Ah Qi? Ah Qi?" "Mm!" Chen Qi lazily opened his eyes and mumbled, "What time is it?" "Half past five!" "Why are you up so early? Sleep a bit more." "I still have to go shoot. Hurry and get up to eat..." Gong Xue fetched another basin of hot water. Chen Qi had no choice but to climb out, wash up, and lift a chopstickful of noodles. "Mm, not bad. Salty and savory, just right!" "I made it to your taste. If I were eating it myself, I'd add sugar and soy sauce." "I can't even picture it. I've given up trying to understand the difference in how we eat." "Anyway, when we eat together I'll cook for you. I can eat northern food too... Oh, right!" Gong Xue set down her chopsticks and suddenly pulled a ridiculously thick envelope from her bag. "This is the five thousand yuan you gave me before you left. I didn't use it. I'm giving it back." "Since I gave it to you, keep it. What sense is there in taking back money once it's been given?" "How could that do? Why would I take five thousand yuan from you for nothing?" Gong Xue forced it on him. He didn't want it either, so he simply said, "How about this: you deposit the money, and leave the passbook here. If you don't need it day to day, it stays. When you do, you can withdraw it." "All right, then!" They soon finished breakfast. She wheeled her bicycle to the side gate and said, "Yesterday set us back. Today's shoot may be heavy. I'll come a bit later." "If it's too late, don't bother. Running back and forth will wear you out." "No! I'm coming. I leave next week. I want to stay with you a little longer." "Then I'll go pick you up." "Mm!" Gong Xue smiled brightly, opened the door, and left. Chen Qi stood a while, then suddenly shivered, rubbed his arms in nothing but a thermal shirt, and hurried back inside to burrow into bed again. It was November now. Mornings and evenings were still quite cool. You could get by without lighting the stove so long as you had a cotton quilt, but once December came the stove had to be lit. Beijing's winters, taken as a whole, were not especially cold by northern standards. The Northeast and Inner Mongolia—those were what you called cold. Especially the Northeast of this era. ... At nine in the morning, the rascal finally got up for real. In the 1980s, job or no job, anyone who dared get up at nine would be drowned in spit. But he was the boss, wasn't he? Once the gate of No. 6 Courtyard was shut, what he said went. "The Proprietor's up!" Dai Hanhan ran past in front of him. He grabbed her and scolded, "What Proprietor? You trying to get me reported? From now on, call me Teacher Chen!" "Oh. Teacher Chen!" "Where's Ji Chunhua? Why don't I see him?" "He said he went to the martial arts team to hang out with Li Lianjie." "And Teacher Li?" "In her room." Chen Qi waved her off, went to the dormitory door, and knocked. "All right if I come in?" "Sure!" A Wuhan accent came from inside. He pushed the door open and started. The room was full of manuscript paper and books, a complete mess, nothing like a young woman's room at all. Li Jianqun was sprawled over the desk without even lifting her head, drawing something or other. He shut the door, then immediately pulled it open again and left it half open. This wasn't Hong Kong. A girl her age, a man his years—there were those who would talk and those who wouldn't listen. A tongue could crush a man to death. Even if he jumped into the Yellow River, he couldn't wash himself clean. He had to be careful about this! "..." He didn't disturb her. He waited a long while, and only when Li Jianqun straightened up did she ask, "You looking for me?" "Next year we're shooting Tai Chi 3. Costumes are still your job. Basically no different from the second film, only there are more foreigners. And one more thing. Next year there's also a serious film. Look up the materials yourself on the concentration camps the Japanese ran in China during the War of Resistance Against Japan, and see how those people really dressed. Get a sense of it first." "You're making an anti-Japanese war film?" Li Jianqun was very interested. "Not exactly. Not an anti-Japanese war film in the traditional sense. It shows, from another angle, how the little devils had no humanity." Once Chen Qi had said his piece, he couldn't help another glance at the room. "Teacher Li, may I make a suggestion? Your room is rather too full. I'm nervous. I'm afraid I'll step on your sketches, and then I'd feel awful." "Of everyone who's made me this suggestion, you're the most tactful." Li Jianqun laughed. "Mm, I'm only saying it. All right, I'm off." He went out and pulled the door shut behind him. From behind came a sudden call: "I'll tidy up when I have time. It's just that I often don't!" ... These past few days Chen Qi had been writing reports, going to the Ministry of Culture to brief the leaders in person, and checking on the magazine's progress. Who knew how Xiao Mo and Xiao Geng had reported things. In any case, the leaders' manner toward him remained warm. They even passed on Liao Gong's regards, telling him not to put too much pressure on himself, and so on... Words like that were only for hearing. Sometimes a leader might mean well, but the actual situation didn't allow it. He knew that if he produced no results next year, China Film, which had suffered every humiliation before, and that bunch of people he had offended would come down on him all at once. Not finishing him off would count as going easy. "Ah—" At night, in the master bedroom, Gong Xue knelt on the bed. Her head of slightly curled hair seemed to stream in the wind with the rhythm of their bodies meeting, then fell with a long, soft moan. She could hold herself up no longer and went limp. A thin film of sweat lay on her slender back, giving off a captivating allure in the candlelight. The power was out again today. Several candles had already burned more than halfway down. Chen Qi steadied his breath. There was no tissue, so he wiped her with a handkerchief, then got off the bed, picked up the thermos, and poured a basin of water. The temperature was just right. "Come wash." "Mm... I can't move..." "Then I'll wash you." "No!" Gong Xue scrambled up at once. The two of them wiped themselves clean, put on their underwear, and lay back in bed bare above the waist. They drew up the quilt. The flush had not yet faded. Skin against skin, they did not feel cold. "We can't keep on like this!" She said suddenly, "This sort of thing can't be too frequent. It harms the body." "Who'd you hear that from?" "I read it myself, in secret." "If it harms the body, why'd you still seduce me—stripping in front of me, and twisting this way and that..." "Who was twisting this way and that?!" Flustered and annoyed, Gong Xue nestled into his arms, then sighed. "Aren't I leaving? Another month without seeing each other... What did you come back for? I'm happy every day. I can't even get into the right state to film anymore. Director Wang criticizes me every day." "That needs taking seriously. I'll give you an idea." Chen Qi said, "Find some materials on how, during the War of Resistance Against Japan, the Japanese set up concentration camps in China, carried out massacres, and brutalized Chinese people. Take them to Guangdong. When you've nothing to do, look them over. Your mood will surely grow heavy." "Are you serious?" "I am. Next year I'm giving you a film. Just treat it as getting familiar with the materials." "..." Gong Xue gave him an odd look, but still nodded in trust. Chen Qi kissed her lips, drew her into his arms again, and stroked her smooth, tender back, glancing at the candle nearly burned out. "Sleep!"