Read Song of Everlasting Sorrow Online
Authors: Wang Anyi
Song of Everlasting Sorrow (11 page)
Wang Qiyao is one little piece of that passion and romance, not the part that rivets all eyes and becomes the center of attention, but the part that serves as ballast for the heart. She is the heart of hearts, always holding fast and never letting anything out. Supposing there was no Wang Qiyao, the parties would become nothing but hollow, heartless affairs, perfunctory displays of splendor. She was the most meaningful part of this passion and romance. She was that desire that lurks in the soul; if not for this desire, there would be no reason for passion and romance. As a result, passion and romance have found their roots, coloring Shanghai with that thing called mood. The mood casts a magic on every place and every thing, causing them to speak words more gorgeous than song.
Wang Qiyao strolled into the Shanghai night. The night scene was set against the dim lamps of
longtang
alleys as well as the lights shining on the cloth backdrops of photo salons. No longer was this night an out-of-context photograph—it now had a story behind it; no longer still, it moved. Its movement was not the movement of the camera at the film studio, for the camera’s movement told someone else’s story. The movement of the night belonged to Wang Qiyao herself. Win or lose, she seemed to be in control of her own destiny—but not entirely. That belongs to the great sky beyond the stars, looming over the Shanghai nightline and enveloping the entire city. Turning white by day and black by night, transforming with the passage of the seasons, this corner of the sky is obscured by buildings and city lights, which serve as its camouflage, yet it withstands thunder and lightning and all the chaos of the world, eternally and boundlessly stretched out overhead.
Miss Shanghailongtang
alleys as well as the lights shining on the cloth backdrops of photo salons. No longer was this night an out-of-context photograph—it now had a story behind it; no longer still, it moved. Its movement was not the movement of the camera at the film studio, for the camera’s movement told someone else’s story. The movement of the night belonged to Wang Qiyao herself. Win or lose, she seemed to be in control of her own destiny—but not entirely. That belongs to the great sky beyond the stars, looming over the Shanghai nightline and enveloping the entire city. Turning white by day and black by night, transforming with the passage of the seasons, this corner of the sky is obscured by buildings and city lights, which serve as its camouflage, yet it withstands thunder and lightning and all the chaos of the world, eternally and boundlessly stretched out overhead.
The peaceful atmosphere of 1946 arrived only after what seemed an eternity of chaos. Suddenly all one seemed to hear was good news; anything negative merely set the stage for good news to follow. Shanghai was an optimistic city that always looked on the bright side, in its eyes even bad news had its good side. It was also a city of pleasure that found it difficult to get through the day unless it could find something to make it happy. When torrential floods hit Henan province and people all over China were donating to the disaster relief effort, Shanghai offered its passion and romance—holding a Miss Shanghai beauty pageant to raise money for the flood victims.
The news of the pageant spread quicker than wildfire and, in the flash of an eye, everyone in the city knew about it. “Shanghai” was already a virtual synonym for modernity, but “Miss Shanghai” captured even better the modern cosmopolitanism of the city—after all, what could be more modern than a beauty queen? It stirred up the feelings of the people, for who in this city did not worship modernity? Here even the sound of ticking clocks seemed to echo the footsteps of modernity. People paid more attention to the election of their beauty queen than the election of their new mayor; after all, what did the mayor have to do with them? Miss Shanghai, however, was a feast for the eyes and everyone got a share. The newspaper that printed the first news of the pageant sold out within an hour of hitting the stands, but there was no time to print more copies, as other papers were immediately reprinting the contents of the article in special edition extras. The news spread along the trolley lines all over the city.
How romantic the whole affair was! It was a scene directly out of a dream, but suddenly that dream was coming true. No one could sit still, and hearts pounded like thunderous drums, dancing to the rhythm of the three step. Even the city lights seemed to grow dizzy with excitement, twinkling and flickering. What besides “Miss Shanghai” could possibly be closer to this city’s heart? The heart of Shanghai was like a naive child, shamelessly savoring her own pleasure. Each and every citizen wanted to have their vote, selflessly offering their opinions on the new image of beauty.
The first person to suggest that Wang Qiyao enter the pageant was the photographer Mr. Cheng. After their first session, Mr. Cheng had done two outdoor photo shoots with Wang Qiyao, who seemed to get better each time: always calm and collected, she didn’t so much as bat an eye. It was as if she could read Mr. Cheng’s mind and knew exactly what he wanted. Wang Qiyao’s beauty was the kind that grows slowly over time; it never diminished, only increased. In Mr. Cheng’s eyes, Wang Qiyao was a goddess, incomparable, unrivaled. Convinced that the “Miss Shanghai” pageant was being held especially for her, he earnestly suggested that Wang Qiyao try out for it—there couldn’t have been a more perfect beauty queen. Mr. Cheng was not the only reason Wang Qiyao signed up. She didn’t have nearly as much confidence in herself as Mr. Cheng had. Moreover,
he
wasn’t the one who would be auditioning for the pageant. There was no way Mr. Cheng could understand the heart-rending vicissitudes she had been through. She wasn’t about to do anything without properly thinking it through. But Mr. Cheng’s suggestion did set her thinking. Over time, the endless parties she was going to had begun to blur together; she felt she was wandering aimlessly back and forth, not getting anywhere. Thus Mr. Cheng’s suggestion ignited a spark in her heart—even if it was only a dull flash of light.
he
wasn’t the one who would be auditioning for the pageant. There was no way Mr. Cheng could understand the heart-rending vicissitudes she had been through. She wasn’t about to do anything without properly thinking it through. But Mr. Cheng’s suggestion did set her thinking. Over time, the endless parties she was going to had begun to blur together; she felt she was wandering aimlessly back and forth, not getting anywhere. Thus Mr. Cheng’s suggestion ignited a spark in her heart—even if it was only a dull flash of light.
Then one night, at the wedding reception of one of Jiang Lili’s distant cousins, Jiang Lili suddenly announced Mr. Cheng’s suggestion to all the guests. A wedding is the last place for such an announcement to be made—it was as if Jiang Lili was intentionally trying to steal the spotlight from the bride and groom. Everyone’s gaze immediately fell upon Wang Qiyao, who, although angry, couldn’t very well show it. But the announcement of Wang Qiyao’s beauty queen bid seemed to be a good omen. Even if the big red lanterns decorating the hall had not been intended for her, the jubilant atmosphere no longer belonged solely to the bride and groom. The newlyweds were a propitious sign, as were the lucky day, the wine in their cups, and the carnation on the bride’s breast. Even the streetlights outside were radiant and glowing, and so were the gorgeous images of the billboard beauties; everything was lit up in a mood that was ready for pleasure. Wang Qiyao didn’t place too much blame on Jiang Lili for what she did, in fact, some part of her was even thankful.
Perhaps it was all fate?
she thought. Who could know? And so she grabbed the opportunity and never looked back.
Perhaps it was all fate?
she thought. Who could know? And so she grabbed the opportunity and never looked back.
Jiang Lili acted as though
she
were the one entering the pageant. The whole thing had barely begun and she was already busy running all over town getting things ready. Even Lili’s mother was mobilized, and she promised to make a
cheongsam
for Wang Qiyao to wear the day of the pageant. Jiang Lili dragged her off to party after party, as if Wang Qiyao was on an exhibition tour. Jiang Lili had never learned the art of tact, and when she met people at these parties the first words tumbling out of her mouth always had to do with garnering votes for Wang Qiyao. She didn’t care whether they even knew Wang Qiyao, let alone how uncomfortable and embarrassed she was making her friend. Jiang Lili had finally found a channel for her willful and domineering nature, and she used it to get what she wanted. In carrying out her campaign to promote her friend, she behaved as if both Wang Qiyao and the very title of “Miss Shanghai” were her exclusive property and she their sole agent. It was a good thing that she had sincerity written all over her face, otherwise things might easily have gone terribly wrong. Wang Qiyao was a rare beauty: this was her firm belief, and she took it upon herself to introduce this beauty to society and advance her cause. By selecting the beautiful Wang Qiyao as her most intimate friend, Jiang Lili could beautify a part of herself.
she
were the one entering the pageant. The whole thing had barely begun and she was already busy running all over town getting things ready. Even Lili’s mother was mobilized, and she promised to make a
cheongsam
for Wang Qiyao to wear the day of the pageant. Jiang Lili dragged her off to party after party, as if Wang Qiyao was on an exhibition tour. Jiang Lili had never learned the art of tact, and when she met people at these parties the first words tumbling out of her mouth always had to do with garnering votes for Wang Qiyao. She didn’t care whether they even knew Wang Qiyao, let alone how uncomfortable and embarrassed she was making her friend. Jiang Lili had finally found a channel for her willful and domineering nature, and she used it to get what she wanted. In carrying out her campaign to promote her friend, she behaved as if both Wang Qiyao and the very title of “Miss Shanghai” were her exclusive property and she their sole agent. It was a good thing that she had sincerity written all over her face, otherwise things might easily have gone terribly wrong. Wang Qiyao was a rare beauty: this was her firm belief, and she took it upon herself to introduce this beauty to society and advance her cause. By selecting the beautiful Wang Qiyao as her most intimate friend, Jiang Lili could beautify a part of herself.
The title of “Miss Shanghai” actually meant nothing to her—all that was important to Jiang Lili was Wang Qiyao. She wanted to win over Wang Qiyao’s favor; it was, in fact, a little sad to see. Her parents and siblings she treated like enemies, reserving all her affection for Wang Qiyao, who seemed to be the longed-for target of her love. But this love issued not only from Jiang Lili. Much of it came from the novels she had read. Wang Qiyao could hardly bear it. Wang Qiyao pitied her for being caught up in a vicious circle—wanting what she couldn’t have, never appreciating what she did have, and becoming a terror to everyone, herself included. It was only out of sympathy that Wang Qiyao let her carry on as she did, but even she sometimes had to step in and say a few words when Lili went too far. At these reprimands, Jiang Lili immediately turned into a naive child uncertain of what she had done wrong, fear and confusion written all over her face. But deep down she never admitted she was wrong.
On one such occasion when Wang Qiyao had lost her temper, Jiang Lili folded her arms and declared, “Wang Qiyao, I just don’t know what I can do to make you happy!”
These words made Wang Qiyao think back to Wu Peizhen, and she was overcome with dismay. She couldn’t recall Wu Peizhen ever uttering such irritating things—but those words described perfectly what Peizhen had constantly tried to do. Wang Qiyao was standing just inches away from Jiang Lili, but she felt they were so distant that they might as well have been on opposite sides of the world.
Although it was only recently that Wang Qiyao had sent in her headshot, rumors were already starting to spread. Wang Qiyao’s original idea was simply to send in her photo and then forget about the whole thing. She had no intention of making a big deal out of the pageant, but how could she remain indifferent in the light of the uproar Jiang Lili was creating? And then there was Mr. Cheng, who seemed intent on bringing the pageant up at least two or three times every day. Mr. Cheng knew a few people in the newspaper business—this was important not only because the Miss Shanghai beauty pageant was a hot topic in all the papers, but also because it was to be judged by representatives from the newspaper industry. Mr. Cheng’s newspaper buddies, however, were not terribly close with him, so that one could never count on the accuracy of his information. Wang Qiyao refused to let herself be swayed by rumors; Jiang Lili, on the other hand, found herself on a never-ending emotional roller coaster. On one occasion Mr. Cheng came to them with the news that the head of a certain major industry, who went by the name of the “king” of something-or-other, was entering his daughter in the pageant and had simultaneously decided to make a large donation to the Disaster Relief Committee. Hearing this, Jiang Lili wanted immediately to run off and start raising money in Wang Qiyao’s name to match his donation. On another occasion Mr. Cheng told them that a politician was going to sponsor a certain socialite for whom he was about to hold a huge reception at the Park Hotel, to which every celebrity in the city was invited. This set Jiang Lili off on a scheme to host her own reception. Wang Qiyao could not be unaffected by all of this. Even though she didn’t want to make a big deal about the whole thing, it was already much too late for that. She had trouble suppressing her excitement as, day in and day out, she waited for the results.
Waiting for the results was like waiting for the dice to turn up in your favor—throwing them down harder doesn’t do any good. Fate decides everything. And so Jiang Lili decided to go to church to pray. The words she uttered to God were like a melodramatic essay worthy of publication. At first Wang Qiyao kept her impatience well hidden, but after Jiang Lili started bragging about her to the whole world, what patience she had left began to wear thin. Gradually, impatience became annoyance and Wang Qiyao took to ignoring Jiang Lili. Lili, however, interpreted this coldness as a sign that she hadn’t done enough and began to work even harder. This left Wang Qiyao at a complete loss. She knew that Jiang Lili was good to her, but she felt constrained, as if her personal freedom was being violated. The natural reaction was to stand up and resist. Being extra nice to someone can be a form of manipulation—kindness is an exercise of power in its own right. Meanwhile, though nothing had been formally declared, the entire city was already filling up with gossip; virtually everyone in Shanghai knew. Wang Qiyao only wished that there was a place where she could hide, where she didn’t have to see another soul. She wished she could be deaf so she wouldn’t have to be bothered by all those annoying questions. It was a good thing that by the time of the pageant they had both already graduated and didn’t have to worry about school anymore. Wang Qiyao couldn’t even imagine how she would have dealt with the stares if she had still been in school. Her relatives were already a handful. And so she had no choice but to spend most of her time at Jiang Lili’s house; no matter how much of an uproar Lili made, there was only one of her—outside there were hundreds. Later, Wang Qiyao decided to move in with the Jiang family.
Actually, Lili had been wanting Wang Qiyao to move in with her for some time, but till now Wang Qiyao had always declined. When she finally agreed, Jiang Lili was so ecstatic that she made sure the room was all fixed up a full three days before Wang Qiyao was even scheduled to move in. Seeing how happy her daughter was, Lili’s mother was also full of energy, ordering the maid to do this and that to get the house ready for their honored guest. The only people living with Lili were her mother and a brother. Her father had moved his factory to the interior during the war and afterward never relocated back to Shanghai. He had, in fact, taken a second wife out there and rarely came home, not even for Chinese New Year. He only returned to Shanghai twice a year for his children’s birthdays—that was his way of showing fatherly love.
Jiang Lili’s little brother was attending middle school, but he often played truant and did nothing but sit home and listen to the radio from morning till night, coming out of his room only for meals. Everyone in the family was a bit odd; even the maid had strange habits. Things were backwards in this family; the children did not have an ounce of respect for their mother, while she constantly fawned upon them. They counted every penny when it came to daily necessities, yet could throw away a hundred dollars at the drop of a hat. The mistress of the house seemed to have tired of being in charge and let the maid boss them around. After moving in, Wang Qiyao felt almost duty-bound to share the responsibilities of running the household—even though her status was half that of a retainer. She became the one to decide what they should have for dinner the following day; the one to ask when anyone in the house was looking for anything; and when the maid went through the daily accounts, it was always her job to make sure there were no mistakes. After Wang Qiyao moved in, the maid suddenly had someone keeping her in check. Her late night mahjong games in the servants’ quarters were at an end, she was no longer allowed to keep guests for dinner, and she had to ask for permission before going out and return in a timely fashion. She was also required to comb her hair and dress more neatly—no longer would she be allowed to go clanking and clacking around all day in those annoying wooden sandals. And so, as she overhauled the household, Wang Qiyao slowly took away the maid’s power, bit by bit, until she was the sole mistress of the house. By moving into Jiang Lili’s house, she had evened things up with Lili. She had improved the household, thus repaying Jiang Lili for being so good to her, but she had also wrested back some control over her own life. That way, the slate was wiped clean and they could be on an equal footing. It was during this time that Wang Qiyao received the news that she had qualified for the preliminary pageant.
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