Part 18 (2/2)

”I understand,” Lin said. He didn't read that magazine and had no idea how rich Geng Yang was.

”We should be going,” Haiyan said to her husband.

”Yes.” Honggan turned to the bridegroom. ”Don't forget I'll be happy to help you. Any heavy work.”

”I'll remember that.” Lin wondered if the couple had drunk too much.

”Bye-bye.” Honggan waved, then grasped his wife's arm. Together they merged into the crowd.

Most of the dancers were in sweaters or s.h.i.+rts now. The room seemed to Lin like a large cabin on a s.h.i.+p, foggy and swaying. This feeling made him giddy.

He couldn't dance, so he stayed with the older officers and their wives, receiving congratulations and answering questions. By now, most of the children had left with candies and fruit in their pockets and with all the balloons, so the room became less noisy and the tables were stacked with empty platters, plates, jackets, hats, mittens. Lin was tired and couldn't stop wondering how his bride was doing alone at home. How bored he was by their wedding.

5.

Manna turned out to be a pa.s.sionate lover, and her pa.s.sion often unnerved Lin. He wasn't as experienced in bed as she had expected. He tired out easily, most of the time before she could calm down. At night when taps was sounded, they would go to bed immediately. They would make love for half an hour, not daring to remain awake longer because they would have to join the morning exercises at daybreak. If it snowed, they would get up early as well to clear roads with their comrades.

Manna seemed frustrated sometimes, but never lost her temper. One Sat.u.r.day night she joked with Lin, saying good-humoredly, ”I wonder how you could have made a baby with Shuyu. In just three minutes?” Her chin was resting on his chest while her eyes were dreamy and half-closed.

”I was young then,” he muttered.

”So you had a different p.e.c.k.e.r?” She chuckled.

”She wasn't like you.”

”In what way?”

”She didn't make me feel like an old man.”

”Come on, you are still my young groom.” She started kissing his mouth again and swung her leg across his belly.

”Sweetheart, I need more time,” he said.

”Okay, take it easy.” She lay still alongside him, but her hand went on caressing his thigh. It took a while to get him ready. They made love for an hour that night, since they wouldn't have to rise early the next morning.

Before the wedding Lin had feared that the rape of a decade ago might continue to trouble Manna, especially in bed; so he had often reminded himself to be gentle with her. But she showed no sign of discomfort. Every day she insisted they make love before going to sleep. Sometimes they even went to bed after lunch. What a woman, he would say to himself.

To satisfy her was not easy, yet he tried his best. Exhausted every night, he wondered if he should use an aphrodisiac-getting some ginseng or angelica roots or seahorses and steeping them in a bottle of wheat liquor. But he decided not to concoct such a drink, believing those things would help burn him out sooner. He hoped Manna could slow down a little, but she was pa.s.sionate as ever. Are other newlyweds like us? he asked himself.

In bed, at the climax, Manna often moaned, ”Oh, let me die. Let's die like this, together.” At times she would weep and even bite his nipples or shoulders. In the beginning her words and tears frightened him, and he thought he must have hurt her. But she said he hadn't, claiming she was happy, so happy that she wished they could lie together in bed forever.

Once, however, she confessed to him, ”I don't know why I feel so sad. If only we had married twenty years earlier.” He gave thought to her words, but was unsure what they meant exactly. Did she imply that if he were younger, he would have been more virile?

Every time after s.e.x he found her slightly different-tired and older, although pink patches would appear on her cheeks and make her a bit more charming. But the flaccid flesh on her stomach and arms, her soft b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and the small crinkles on her throat, all indicated that youth had left her. He would wonder how her body could generate so much desire, which seemed ageless and impossible for him to meet. He felt old and begged her not to indulge herself too much, but she didn't seem to care.

In two months he began to have a numb pain in the small of his back, and a soreness was developing in his right sole. He knew that too much s.e.x might have hurt his kidneys, but he wouldn't shun it, feeling obligated to satisfy her in any way she wanted, because she had waited so many years for him. A large dose of vitamin B1 was injected into his foot, around the sore spot, to soothe the nerves. It alleviated the pain to some extent.

His colleagues noticed he had grown thinner. Since the previous summer he had lost fifteen pounds, and his chin jutted out further. When there was no woman around, his comrades would outdo one another poking fun at him. s.h.i.+ding Mu, the head of the Propaganda Section, said one afternoon in the recreation room, ”My goodness, Lin, you've been married for just three months. Look at yourself, you're running out of sap.”

Lin sighed, not knowing how to reply. He went on writing the phrase ”Warmly Welcome” with a brush on a large sheet of paper. They were making posters for a general's visit to the hospital. Lin was among the few skilled with the writing brush, so he had been a.s.signed to the work.

s.h.i.+ding Mu nudged him and went on, ”Already tired out, eh? This is just the first step of a thousand-mile march.” He gave a long laugh, which was so loud that it set the pane on a cabinet door rattling for a few seconds.

”Stop it!” Lin snapped.

But they wouldn't leave him alone. A junior officer chimed in, ”Lin, by next summer, you'll be a skeleton if you go on like this. You must slow down.”

Another man said to Lin with a wink, ”You know, l.u.s.t is the worm that sucks up your marrow.”

Then a clerk in round-rimmed gla.s.ses dipped a small broom into a bucket, stirring the hot paste made of wheat flour, and recited loudly these lines from an ancient lyric: For her I have grown bony and pale, Yet I do not regret my robe Yet I do not regret my robe Is turning baggier day by day. Is turning baggier day by day.

They laughed out loud, then continued to talk about women. No wonder the saying went: ”At thirty she is like a wolf; at forty a tiger.” An old maid must be a wolf as well as a tiger, so only a young lion should engage her in battle. From the outset Lin should have known he was no match and should have set up a few rules with her. The office echoed with chortles. Their jokes made time pa.s.s so fast and the work so delightful.

Though he didn't show his anger, Lin was exasperated at heart. He told himself he had to do something to stop people from talking like this.

At home he looked at himself in the full-length mirror on the wardrobe, which was the only piece of furniture he had bought for the wedding. Indeed his eyes had sunk deeper and seemed larger. His face was pallid, and more white hair appeared at his temples and crown. The gray strands gave him a sense of finality. At medical school twenty-five years before, he had grown some white hair, which later turned black again. Now there was no hope of reversing the gray.

One day he and Manna jumped into bed after lunch and made love. Afterward, he was so exhausted he fell asleep. Manna didn't wake him when she left for work. He went on sleeping until a nurse came at about three to get the key to the storage room. She said a technician from Harbin had arrived to repair the inhalator Lin had locked away. How embarra.s.sed he was. Without was.h.i.+ng his face, he set out with the woman for the medical building. On the way he kept telling her that he didn't feel himself.

That evening he said to his wife, ”Sweetheart, we can't continue like this. We're no longer young. People have been talking about us.”

”I know it's bad,” Manna said, ”but I can't help myself. Something's eating me inside, as if I won't live for long and have to seize every hour.”

”We should save some energy for work.”

”In fact, I don't feel well these days. I had my blood pressure checked this afternoon. It was high.”

”How high?”

”One hundred fifty-two over ninety-seven.”

”That's awful. We shouldn't have s.e.x so often.”

”Maybe we shouldn't.” She sighed.

They agreed to protect their health from then on. That night they slept peacefully for the first time.

6.

”It's like a cinerary casket,” Lin muttered to himself. He referred to a small sandalwood box underneath Manna's clothes in the wardrobe. A bronze padlock always secured its lid. He couldn't help wondering what was inside. Probably money, or her bankbook, or the certificates of merit she had received. Somehow the varnished box had begun to occupy his mind lately.

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