From then on Mr. Cheng became their regular evening date. He was like their guardian angel, always following close behind them and seeing them both home. Mr. Cheng began to neglect his old hobby of photography. His camera became covered with dust and his darkroom began to grow mildew; whenever he stepped inside he would be struck by a strange, unnamable sensation. The true love that lurked deep in his heart had transformed from something cold into something hot, from something hollow to something tangible.
Mr. Cheng was an ardent enthusiast for their evening dates at first; they filled up many lonely nights for him. Parties had not lost their novelty, but attending them with Wang Qiyao quickly cast a pall over them. The main reason he went to the parties was to get closer to Wang Qiyao, but Wang Qiyao grew even more distant from him. Eventually Wang Qiyao did begin to talk more and acted more cordial—in order to fend him off—but oddly enough Mr. Cheng then found himself at a loss for words. Whatever he said failed to capture his true feelings and ended up being the kind of empty talk he could have said to anyone else. Everything that took place on their dates was shared; when they laughed or got silly they did it together and when they met up and departed it was always as a group. Parties were settings uniquely devoid of personal freedom, and someone like Mr. Cheng, who thought up designs of his own, was doomed to be disappointed. Still he couldn’t stop himself from going. Even though Wang Qiyao had become a phantom, he couldn’t stop chasing after her. Even when the phantom had disappeared in the wind, he continued to search for her. At parties he would stand in the corner, holding his drink, barely moving the entire evening. Wang Qiyao seemed to fill the air, waiting for him to gaze upon her, but he couldn’t see her. The nights were full of dejection. The surrounding excitement mocked him, but still he did not retreat.
In Jiang Lili’s eyes, Mr. Cheng also turned into a phantom at those parties, a phantom who had lost his way. She said whatever she could to bring him back into the world, but her loquaciousness irritated him. However, being a soft-natured man who did not like to hurt anyone’s pride, he would always force himself to make a few perfunctory remarks in reply, but this left him feeling even more dejected. The gloomier Mr. Cheng appeared, the more Jiang Lili became set on cheering him up. Even if he was as cold as ice, she believed that she could melt him with her warmth. This was where all the novels she had read came in handy. They taught her how to be soft and passionate, how to use elegant words, and how to analyze situations—a pity, then, that she was playing the wrong part. Having started off with an awkward sentence, the rest of the essay had run askew. She was operating under misguided hopes and misplaced confidence. Mr. Cheng was completely at her mercy at these parties. Although he was almost catatonic, even a shell of a man would have satisfied Jiang Lili—and if the shell were smashed, she would have assiduously picked up the broken pieces. Jiang Lili always said she went to these parties for Wang Qiyao’s sake, but actually it was for Mr. Cheng. She was like an outsider, always standing in the corner. That wasn’t what she wanted, but because Mr. Cheng was an outsider, she had no choice but to go over to the corner to join him. When Mr. Cheng was depressed, she couldn’t help being depressed too; her whole heart was with him. A shame, then, that Mr. Cheng couldn’t see any of that. The only thing on his mind was Wang Qiyao—only Wang Qiyao and he were real, for everyone else was wearing a mask; only their two hearts were genuine, while the others could not even recognize what was authentic. A pity that those two hearts were not on the same path; the more genuine they were, the more difficult it was for them ever to meet.
Suggesting that she compete for “Miss Shanghai” was Mr. Cheng’s way of trying to please Wang Qiyao. When Jiang Lili enthusiastically seconded the nomination, it was only partially in support of Wang Qiyao; the main reason was actually Mr. Cheng. Those days may have been difficult for Wang Qiyao to get through, but they represented the best of times for Mr. Cheng and Jiang Lili. The three of them saw each other almost every other day, but whenever they met they always had an endless array of things to talk about. Once Wang Qiyao moved into the Jiang house and Mr. Cheng started to come around, even Jiang Lili’s mother got fired up. Visitors to the Jiang house came in spurts, waves of excitement followed by dry spells of cheerless desolation. But whenever Mr. Cheng dropped by, the desolation would lift and the house took on a warm glow. Though a visitor, he brought a sense of family to this house where there was no man aside from a boorish young son. Furthermore, Mr. Cheng was the kind of man who could help them make decisions. Even when he was not making decisions, his presence in the living room was a welcome sight.
In the days leading up to the pageant Mr. Cheng and Jiang Lili both found a channel for their energies and a temporary object upon which they could sublimate their respective infatuations. They both couldn’t have been happier. Now that they had a common objective, they suddenly found a common language—but Wang Qiyao found herself in the awkward position of being forced to sing a different tune if only to assert some control over her own life. So the more united the other two grew in trying to please her, the more discordant her song became. The three of them ended up on two teams, and for Wang Qiyao it was two against one. In her heart she knew that they were trying to help her, but she couldn’t help displaying a bit of guile and stubbornness to boost her own confidence. Thus, though divided into opposite camps, they were united in a common cause; cocooned in their separate passions, they were nonetheless willing to sink their differences and try to make the best of things.
One man and two women was the most common grouping of lovers to be found in 1946. Herein lies the starting point of the comedies and the tragedies, the truths and the absurdities. In the dappled shade under the trees, a pedicab carries two ladies, followed by a second pedicab carrying a man—so begin countless stories like this one. Who can guess how this one will end?
As the pageant drew closer, Wang Qiyao became genuinely excited whenever Mr. Cheng showed up. At this time, when nothing else was certain, he was a known factor. And although he wasn’t enough, at least he was something—someone she could rely on. To what extent Wang Qiyao was willing to put her fate in his hands was something to which she gave little thought; she couldn’t. Perhaps she was thinking:
Even if I take ten thousand steps back, in the end I’ll still have Mr. Cheng; even if everything comes to naught, when all is said and done he will still be there.
Mr. Cheng was her cushion. Staying with the Jiang family had hundreds of benefits, but not a single one rightfully belonged to her. Although she was living the good life, that life lay at the margins of someone else’s life. It was as if she were living her own life as a remnant. Returning home meant that she could be a whole piece of fabric again, but her whole piece was smaller than other people’s remnants, not even good enough to serve as the lining of a presentable suit. Even though Mr. Cheng was also a remnant, at least he was presentable.
During those times when her spirit was at its lowest, Wang Qiyao went out with Mr. Cheng alone a couple of times. Once he accompanied her home to pick up some things. He did not enter the
longtang
with her but instead waited in a coffee shop down the street. Staring out the window at the passersby, Mr. Cheng would say to himself:
Wang Qiyao should be coming up behind this girl.
Or
Once that guy walks past, I bet she’ll appear
. He didn’t even realize that his coffee had grown cold. The chimes of the trolley clanking by were pacifying music to his ears, and the sunlight shining through the parasol trees seemed as if it too was playing a silvery tune. Finally Wang Qiyao emerged in the sunlight, which seemed to shine right through her. She was so stunning, as if she had walked straight out of a painting, that he feared she was about to melt into thin air. Mr. Cheng had the sudden urge to run over and save her, no matter what it might cost him. He was so agitated that his eyes grew teary. At the same time, however, he felt somewhat aggrieved. The dust had continued to collect in his photo studio. The container of fixing solution left in his darkroom had become discolored. Countless days had passed since he had even stepped inside! He was aware that he had put himself in an awkward situation, without a backup plan, virtually cutting off any way out. He could only move forward. By the time he realized his coffee had grown cold, Wang Qiyao was already standing before him. But once she was there his rancor was replaced by a wholehearted devotion. Wang Qiyao didn’t even sit down; she wanted to leave straightaway, as if sitting down would signal that she had made some kind of commitment. Although she valued him as a fallback in the event of complete debacle, her present circumstances were nowhere near so desperate. Nonetheless, she wanted him around for a sense of security, as well as for Jiang Lili’s sake.
Naturally she understood Jiang Lili’s heart. As long as she wasn’t blinded by passion, there wasn’t anything a sensitive girl like Wang Qiyao couldn’t see. She even understood the heart of Jiang Lili’s mother, an incompetent woman who needed to consult Wang Qiyao on everything, no matter how trivial—at least before Mr. Cheng came along. When Mrs. Jiang had to attend a relative’s wedding, she used the pretext that Wang Qiyao wasn’t feeling good to get Mr. Cheng to accompany them to the banquet. Her transparent actions left Wang Qiyao feeling at once angry, bemused, and sorry for her. Whenever things like this occurred, Wang Qiyao knew she had to step aside and let the Jiangs have their way. This time the problem was that if she didn’t go, neither would Mr. Cheng. In the end, all four of them attended together so that Mrs. Jiang would not lose face. Throughout the evening, Wang Qiyao never left Mrs. Jiang’s side, while keeping open the seat next to Mr. Cheng, which Jiang Lili dutifully filled. By bringing together Jiang Lili and Mr. Cheng, Wang Qiyao was partially setting things up for her own retreat. It was also her way of looking out for Jiang Lili and her mother, as well as an opportunity to sit back and laugh at them. She knew better than anyone that Mr. Cheng had already invested his heart in her, which gave her self-esteem a padding she could always fall back on. Although it was painful to see Jiang Lili throwing herself against a brick wall, it was also a means for Wang Qiyao to vent some of her own pent-up resentment.
Mr. Cheng never knew what she was thinking. She had a complicated mind, one made more complex by her situation. Mr. Cheng had unwittingly fallen into a labyrinth, wherein he was constantly chasing after Wang Qiyao, but somehow always ending up in Jiang Lili’s company. Mr. Cheng was a straightforward man who never overanalyzed his surroundings. He thought of Jiang Lili and her mother only as warmhearted people and, although they sometimes seemed to go a bit overboard, he never suspected that anything else was afoot. So he repaid their warmheartedness in kind, never imagining his innocent actions would take him down a path he did not wish to follow.
Who knows how many times Jiang Lili shed tears over Mr. Cheng? Mr. Cheng either paying a little extra attention to her or neglecting her was reason enough for her to run back to her room to cry. Her room had been fixed up by then. The books were all neatly shelved and in proper order. The teacups were washed every day. She was constantly replacing her old phonograph records with the latest ones, mostly romantic serenades; Hanging at the head of her bed were a few hand-embroidered fragrant pouches, the handiwork of Wang Qiyao; inside her wardrobe were bright, colorful new clothes, all conforming to Mr. Cheng’s tastes. The room had a lively atmosphere, a mild, docile, and amiable temperament, a mood of expectation. She had written many words never to be seen by another, all hidden away in her diary, which she kept bundled in a crimson silk cloth. She could never see things clearly, sometimes because she had been blinded by love, and other times because she was too wrapped up in her own feeling of entitlement. She had power over Wang Qiyao and it seemed only natural that this power should carry over to Wang Qiyao’s friends. But even
she
was a bit hazy when it came to this entitlement and couldn’t figure out just how much was real and how much existed in name only. Which part was rightfully hers? And which part was owing to a fair trade they had made? Ever since her childhood Jiang Lili had been accustomed to getting her way, which in the end set her up for a fall.
When it got to the point that Jiang Lili couldn’t stand the torment anymore, she would pour her heart out to Wang Qiyao. It was the kind of melodramatic venting one reads of in novels. As she spoke, she often skipped over entire sentences and her words failed to convey what she wanted to say, but those were precisely the moments when she revealed her true feelings. This distressed Wang Qiyao and left her at an utter loss for words. It would have been wrong to rain on her parade at that moment, but even more irresponsible to encourage her. The situation was extremely difficult to negotiate diplomatically, and it was hard too to speak the truth. Wang Qiyao had no choice but to let Lili carry on as she pleased and refrain from taking any position at all herself. However, after Jiang Lili began to incessantly solicit her advice about Mr. Cheng, Wang Qiyao was forced to agree that he wasn’t half bad. But when pushed further, she added, “But he is a bit bookish . . .”
“He’s not bookish,” Jiang Lili retorted. “It’s called being
refined
. . .” Seeing how infatuated she was, Wang Qiyao would sometimes drop Jiang Lili a little hint, telling her things like, “Everything comes down to fate. If you don’t have that on your side, all efforts will be in vain.”
Hearing those words, Jiang Lili could no longer contain her joy. “That’s right,” she replied. “I often think about how big a role coincidence actually plays. It was just chance that you and I met, and then you brought Mr. Cheng into my life—this kind of coincidence is fate!”