I say this because the subsequent scene bore it out.
After pausing for a while, the hand began undoing my buttons afresh. When the "apple" bobbed into sight in the rearview mirror again, the hand touched it tentatively, then covered it with my sweater again. It seemed as if he were intoxicated with this kind of fleeting but deeply prized visual and tactile gratification, as if he didn't want to let unbridled desire ruin the feeling of aesthetic appreciation that I had stirred in him.
When I recalled this scene after I had gone home, it still moved me deeply. It seems to me that the feelings involved in this kind of innocent behavior run much deeper than those generated by undisciplined self-indulgence, whether you look at it from the physical or psychological point of view. I found myself irresistibly drawn back to that scene again and again, with every detail played out in slow motion out of fear that I might at some point forget something. For a long time, I steeped myself in naive, romantic reveries, longing for my life to unfold.
That day, we stayed there in the car for about an hour. Finally Yin Nan, with an unexpected, almost reverential seriousness, placed a very light but very long kiss on my left earlobe, then pulled away from me, and sitting there behind the wheel as primly and sweetly as a little boy, he started the car.
We drove along the bare winter road between the fields. In front of us, patterns of sunlight danced on the black pavement, beckoning us onward. Holding the hand Yin Nan had put in my lap, I immersed myself totally in the pastoral scenery around us.
As we drove he repeatedly turned to look at me, his eyes lingering affectionately on my face and my body. He would stare at me a while, give a little laugh, then focus his attention on the road again. But after a moment he would turn to look at me again, the desire in his eyes like fingertips exploring my body.
I was afraid that we might have an accident if he continued like that, and finally, unable to contain myself, I said, "You mustn't look at me all the time. You'd better watch the road."
He didn't say anything, but he gave a little laugh, then didn't look at me anymore. But his hand again slid from the steering wheel into my lap and cupped itself around mine.
We were silent again for a long time, the only sound the faint noise of the car as it moved along the uneven road, like a boat on an undulating sea.
The rural scenery swept past my eyes. The piles of gold-colored straw, the withered, bare trees, the farming villages dotting the vast landscape, and the waving fields of winter wheat all had a wonderful appeal quite unlike anything the city could offer.
At last, unable to contain myself, I said, "I love the countryside."
Yin Nan said, "You mean the scenery?"
I said, "It's not just a matter of enjoying it from afar. I would love to live in the countryside."
"Living in such a place would be peaceful, all right. Nobody'd know who you were," he said.
"I don't want anyone to know who I am," I said.
Yin Nan hesitated for a moment, then said, "You're saying you'd like to be a hermit? Whatever for? We're young – the world is calling us."
I said, "It's too exhausting to live among people, and too dangerous. Living in China is like being dropped into a monstrous labyrinth. To get through it, it isn't knowledge, talent, or intelligence that you need; it's something else. I can't handle it."
"You're right on. If we want to achieve anything of significance in life, aside from accumulated knowledge, to survive we have to learn to recognize opportunities and to ignore what other people think. I've just been reading up on this. They say that in Japan the final training for anyone who wants to do something significant in life, whether in business or politics, is standing on the street and shouting, 'I'm a scumbag! A bastard!' Think about it. What can you do to a person like that?"
"So it's like you're saying that ultimately it's the person who has no sense of honor, who turns his back on friends and family, who gets ahead. But do you know how much that person has to bear in his heart?"
"That's exactly why I say we have to learn this lesson."
"But why exhaust yourself like this? It's far better just to hide."
"Oh, is that so? Well, it's different for a man. You can hide yourself away out here, but I can't hide. I have to get involved."
In all the time we had known each other, this was the first time I had seen the determination that lurked beneath his shyness.
A bit surprised, I watched him for a while, then said, "Of course. Of course I understand that."
He turned to me, and as if he were trying to get away from some unpleasant line of thinking, he abruptly switched the thread of our conversation. "All that stuff is so boring. Why waste our time talking about it? Mmm, do you know…" He turned away from me again to watch the road.
"Do I know what?"
He didn't answer me directly. He stared at the road ahead, increasing our speed.
"Do I know what?" I repeated.
He said softly, "I… like you."
I didn't quite know what to say, so I didn't say anything.
"Like you… an awful lot. Don't you know?" he added.
"Of course… I know."
I don't like it when two people always want to talk about their relationship. I think a relationship is a natural thing, not something you talk into being.
So I shifted the direction of our discussion. "How come you never told me you knew how to drive a car?"
"There's lots of things I haven't told you," he said, as he took his driver's license from his shirt pocket. "Look, I passed my driver's test last summer during the holidays. It's my big brother's car. He doesn't know I took it today. He's got lots of money. It's just that he doesn't have any real goal in life. So he's pinning his hopes on me."
I said, "That's a heavy weight to carry. I get the feeling that you want to do something big with your life."
He didn't say anything. He just turned to me with the shy little smile that I had come to love so much.
"You're a bit of an enigma," I added.
It was already quite late, and feeling a bit hungry, I began checking out the restaurants we were passing.
Yin Nan said, "When we get into town, we'll look for a nice place to eat."
"With your brother's money, too?" I asked.
"If he wants to support me, why shouldn't I take it? I've got lots of ideas. Maybe you'd call them dreams, but even if they are, what's so bad about that?"
"What dreams?"
He gave a little laugh. "Lots of them. You – you're one of my dreams. I don't know how you feel about it, but as far as I'm concerned, I'm not just one person anymore – you're part of me."
We were already in the city, and the car slowed down as we threaded our way along the street jammed with people celebrating Spring Festival Eve.
I lingered on his words, "you're part of me." It was as if I was unaware of what was happening on the street outside. They were like flames, a numbing drug that intoxicated me. I felt a new kind of strength welling up inside me.
We found a place to park, but before we got out of the car, Yin Nan, as if suddenly emboldened, grasped my shoulder eagerly, and pressing his cheek against mine, said in almost a whisper, "Would you like to be with me always?"
Although it was a question, it was obvious that he didn't want an answer, because he immediately enclosed me in his arms and placed that firm, sweet mouth squarely upon my own, preventing any reply. Like a big, lovable frog, he sucked in my fragrance, his breathing hoarse and desperate with excitement.
I could feel the sharp metallic beat of his heart penetrating into mine through the interstices between his ribs, which were pressing into my breasts like so many powerful fingers. That huge and ardent chest opening itself outward was like a large country bent on expansion, eager to annex, or more precisely, to welcome or accept a small country.
He mumbled incoherently as he ran his trembling hands over my back. I felt his fingers and gradually his entire body begin to tremble, and the tighter he embraced me, the more awkward and tense he became. I knew that only genuine love could stir that kind of awkwardness, excitement, that kind of restraint and tentativeness.