Mulberry and Peach (14 page)

The legal witness, Old Mr Wan, delivers a speech: ‘. . . This modest gentleman and this fine and charming lady are a true match made in
heaven. We Chinese value virtue above everything else in this world. If one must choose between a man of talent or a man of virtue, how much better it is to choose the gentleman of virtue . . .'

‘. . .
The Headquarters of the Extermination Campaign Against the Communist Rebels in North China has announced that forces of more than fifty thousand soldiers have already safely withdrawn to T'ang-ku . . . '

‘. . . From ancient times, many treacherous ministers of state and dissipate sons have had great talent, but have lacked virtue. Those who have wrecked the state and ruined their families are too numerous to count. Thus, Chia-kang's virtue is especially precious in these troubled times. And his virtue is due to the efforts of his wise and saintly mother.'

‘. . .
After eight years of the War of Resistance Against Japan, there followed three years of civil war. Not only has this destroyed the only thread of hope that survived the victorious war of resistance, but slaughtered by the tens of thousands . . .'

‘The first commandment in
The Way to Manage a Household
is: Do not listen to the words of women and do not treat your parents ungenerously. Then the household will be at peace and although there may be chaos in the world outside, one will find refuge in the joy of family love . . .'

‘. . . For generations the Sangs have been a family of distinguished scholars. Mulberry Sang herself is a virtuous and capable woman. I will quote from
The Classic for Girls
the following words of advice: “A woman must submit to her husband. A wife should serve her husband's parents with the same attention with which she would hold an overflowing cup and cultivate herself as carefully as if she were treading on ice.” Finally, I wish that the new bride and groom be as harmonious together as the lute and zither. May your sons and grandsons be without end.'

‘. . .
Fu Tso-i and the Communists are holding peace talks in the Western Hills. Two bombs exploded in the house of one of the negotiators, the former mayor . . .'
Several students stand talking in the doorway.

Next the appointed matchmaker makes a speech. He first solemnly announces that he was forced up on the platform at the last minute and made to play the role of the matchmaker. When he gets to the word ‘platform' he looks all around and adds in a low voice: ‘There
is no platform. In these troubled times, everything must be simplified.'

There are two loud blasts of artillery. The door to the ceremonial hall swings open and shut.

The matchmaker clears his throat and says that his virtue is his brevity. He doesn't want to delay the bride and groom's enjoyment of this happy occasion. ‘The scenery was of mountains collapsing, the earth cracking open, bright and dazzling, revealing the golden light. Branches, leaves, flowers, and fruit too: a peach with a hard, solid seed wrapped in tender flesh.' He tells two more jokes and finally finishes by warning the new bride and groom, ‘On the wedding night you must watch out for spies and be careful not to divulge your secrets. The city must be protected or else everything will be disrupted.'

 

My room off the corner of the courtyard becomes the wedding chamber. In the room there is a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. The rest of the furniture was sold to the junk dealer. Chia-kang's father used to work at the long desk. His things are still arranged on it: a large marble brush stand, two rows of bamboo brush holders holding twelve unused brushes of different sizes. In the white flower-embossed ink box are two pieces of white silk wadding. There's a stack of writing paper with a red inscription ‘The Room of Retreat'.

Two large red candles are burning on the desk. In the stove the fire is burning briskly. Chia-kang ran around the whole afternoon looking for a basket of coal to buy especially for the wedding.

The artillery suddenly stops.

Chia-kang takes the flashlight and examines every corner of the room, even under the bed, and then goes out to inspect the courtyard.

He comes in, closes the door, and locks it.

I am sitting on the edge of the bed.

He motions to me, pointing first at me and then at the bed.

I don't move.

He tugs at my dress.

I still don't move.

He paces up and down. He must not say anything. If the groom speaks first he will be the first to die. His shadow leaps from the wall to the ceiling. Then it suddenly looms larger and jumps down at me from the ceiling.

He walks over to me and sits down and begins to unbutton my dress. As soon as he undoes a button, I quickly fasten it up again.

He pushes me down on the bed and strips off all my clothes. Then he takes off all his clothes. Our clothes lie in a heap on the floor.

I slip under the embroidered quilt. He lifts the quilt and falls on top of me. His whole body caresses my body. Suddenly I start itching. I wriggle underneath him and try to scratch. He cocks his head and pouts at me. I pick up his hand and bring it near the candlelight. I can't see anything in the dark. My scalp and the soles of my feet begin to itch. I shove him aside and begin scratching wildly.

He begins scratching himself.

The two of us scratch on the bed: scratch lying down, sitting up, rolling over.

He gets out of bed and picks up one of the candles, still scratching himself.

Some sort of furry substance has been spread all over the bed.

We don't understand who would play a joke like this on our wedding night.

We brush ourselves off and then brush off the bed.

As soon as we get back into bed, a dog starts barking. Then we hear voices and a gong.

‘Kill that beast,' the students are yelling.

The sound of the dog, the voices and the gong rush from the main gate through the Gate of Dangling Flowers into the courtyard.

An oil lamp is hung on the courtyard gate. Shadows of men with clubs in their hands appear on the paper window.

The dog is still barking.

The shadows vanish.

A gong sounds.

Six shadow puppets appear on the paper window. Six heads on six sticks nod and bow towards the barking dog.

Voices come from under the window. ‘Congratulations to the bride and groom. Today is a happy occasion for the Shen family. If you don't make merry, you won't prosper. We are shadow puppets gathered together from all corners of the world: Pigsy, Monkey, Cripple Li, Chung Li, the God of Thunder, the Fox Spirit, and White Snake Spirit. We have heads but no bodies. You people have bodies but no heads.'

Two voices mimic the voices of clowns, an old man and a woman:

The gong sounds again. The two voices begin to improvise nonsense variations on the Confucian text,
The Great Learning
:

The flickering shadow-clowns on the window sing to us. Chia-kang and I roll on the bed, scratching ourselves wildly. The shadows lurch towards the dog and the dog howls. The shadows swing toward us and we freeze on the bed. Their voices begin counting, the male and female clowns alternating the count:

Suddenly the heads plunge towards the dog. Then all we hear is the crashing of sticks against the wall.

The dog howls and the door to our room bursts open. The dog darts into the room.

It rushes from corner to corner and finally scrambles under the bed. It yelps hysterically and its back thumps against the mattress as it twists and turns. It rubs against the furry substance that litters the floor.

The students stand in the doorway. They hold the sticks with the puppet heads, and they laugh at us: the two of us on the bed and the dog under the bed.

Chia-kang and I throw off the quilt and get out of bed.

They clap and cheer.

I stand in the corner naked. Chia-kang, also naked, picks up the mattress and the dog chases madly in a circle under the bed frame, barking.

The students drive the dog out with their sticks.

Chia-kang shuts the door.

The dog howls in the courtyard.

There is a loud thumping of sticks and the dog stops barking. It is dead.

Chia-kang and I lie on the bed and listen to the sound of fur rubbing against the stone slabs. They are dragging the dog's carcass away. I curl up into a ball.

Chia-kang turns over and straddles my body.

‘Mulberry, you're not a virgin!' He pushes into my body and blurts out the first words of the wedding night. Then he clenches his teeth. He is the first one to speak tonight.

 

‘Peace has been restored to Peking. Fu Tso-i has announced a peace communique. From 22 January on, more than two hundred thousand troops under his command will be garrisoned outside Peking to await
reorganisation by the People's Liberation Army. The Peking-Tientsin campaign has finally ended . . .'

Suddenly the shelling stops. The lights come back on.

The hawkers begin yelling in the lanes again.

‘Sweet apples!'

‘Fresh dates!'

‘Popcorn!'

It is snowing. Powdery snow flutters in the air. It's one of the few times it has snowed since I arrived in Peking.

 

Chia-kang sprawls on top of me, his head dangling over my shoulder. Suddenly he collapses.

He makes me tell him about Refugee Student in Chü-t'ang Gorge. I tell him that I have forgotten what happened in the past. I tell him that the night I married him I made up my mind: even if he had to roll down the Mountain of Knives I would roll down with him and if he died, I would be a widow all of my life. He says I shouldn't have thought about being a widow on our wedding night. It's an unlucky omen. He rolls off my body and stretches out beside me.

The wet smell between my legs makes me want to vomit. I pick up his hand and place it on my breast. He slides his hand down my body.

When his hand reaches below my stomach it stops. He asks if Refugee Student touched me like that. I repeat: I forgot what happened in the past a long time ago. But he is obsessed. He caresses me but he thinks about him.

I say, then don't touch me. He says he can't help it, he has to touch me. Then go on, I say.

His hand slides down my stomach. The winter sun shines on the window paper.

He drives into my body several times, then turns over and sprawls beside me. He wipes his leg with a washcloth and laughs, saying that next year the Communists will discover that the population of Peking has dramatically increased. In a city under siege, there's nothing to do except make love. We can call our children the generation of the siege.

‘It's New Year's. God of Wealth for Sale.' A hawker selling paper images of the God of Wealth yells from The Gate of Dangling Flowers.

 

‘It's getting windy. Don't let the flame go out. Chia-kang, hold it carefully ... At last, here we are, the five branches of the Shen family together again. Dozens of burning flames, like little flowers. Look,
the flames of great-grandfather and great-grandmother are arranged in the first row. The flames of the sons and daughters-in-law and grandchildren and the flames of the concubines all arranged in order in front of the altar. See how they stretch across three courtyards to the entrance of Li-shih Lane. Pass the lighted flames along, hold them carefully. Chia-kang, be careful. It's getting windy . . .'

‘Mother,' Chia-kang is standing beside the
k'ang
. ‘Mother, are you awake? The Eighth Army has entered the city. There is going to be a huge parade today. Mulberry, Hsing-hsing and I want to go watch it from the Gate of Heavenly Peace.'