One morning, unable to find any peace, I go to the Square of a Thousand Winds. It is five o’clock and the trees are whispering in a strong breeze, as if a thousand different drafts and breezes had agreed to meet there at the break of day.
The first player appears, with a birdcage in his hand. As he cleans the table and puts down the pots of stones, another man comes over to sit down opposite him.
My heart sinks.
That evening, after getting drunk with the Captain, I knock on Orchid’s door. She has already forgotten all her resentment and slips off her dress at once. It has been a long time since I have touched a woman. Seeing in her the Chinese girl’s nakedness, I discharge into her as violently as emptying the chamber of a gun.
As I wander the streets in the hope of seeing her, this tiny town suddenly seems vast. I try a different brothel, but none of the girls parading past moves me. Still, I go up to Peony’s room with her. Her smile reveals one golden tooth. Her body is fat and very white, and she cries out exuberantly.
At four in the morning a White Russian girl agrees to be slapped as I sit astride her. My belt leaves purple streaks across her skin.
Dawn is breaking, the new day just like any other. I shake a rickshaw boy awake and he takes me to the foot of the Hill of the Seven Ruins. Up the hill the tree under which she slept is clothed in rays of purple light, and it remains true to my memory, but the rest of the scene has lost all its poetry. In the middle of the clearing the grass has grown too high and is beginning to dry out.
Back at the barracks I have forgotten how to harangue my soldiers, how to stand up, even how to sit down. My mind is somewhere else, and nowhere.
That night I am woken by piercing whistles. I open my eyes. My deliverance is at hand.
The locomotive stands by the platform billowing columns of steam. I shove my men, barking at them to hurry, then I get in and pull the door closed behind me. I suddenly realize that I have forgotten to say good-bye to Captain Nakamura.
89
Peking, a city of dust.
Jing comes back with the newspapers under his arms, but every day his face is a little darker: negotiations with the Japanese army have broken down and war is very near. Chiang Kai-shek’s central government is calling upon the Chinese nation to resist the foreign invasion. In the streets the exodus has already started, thousands streaming towards the south with whatever can be carried.
Ever since we arrived in Peking, Jing has forbidden me to leave the hotel room. When he is here, I refuse to get up. He keeps blaming himself for dragging me nearer to danger and death, and guilt makes him irritable. He is becoming disgusting, uglier by the day. His hair has grown too long; he bites his fingernails and eats like an animal.
Lying in a sheet wound round me like a shroud, I argue with him over anything: the overly warm noodles, the bitter tea, the noise of the mosquitoes. The terrible heat eggs me on. Most of the time he responds with contemptuous silence, but sometimes a rage comes over his face, his whole body shakes and he lunges as if to strangle me.
“Go on, kill me!” I scream. “Just like you killed your friends!”
His face contorts into a snarl and I see Min’s ghost flit through his eyes.
I end up giving him my cousin’s address, and ask him to bring Lu to me. Jing is angry at first, but when I tell him that Lu is married he quite happily goes off to find him.
Once he has left I can breathe at last. Without Jing the room feels airy and full of light. I get up, wash my face and comb my hair by the open window.
Our hotel is a large single-story building with rooms arranged around a square courtyard in the middle of which a jujube tree is growing. On the other side of the wall, out in the street, there are children chattering in pure Pekingese. In their intonations I pick out the same accent as the man who played go. His was slightly different: instead of rolling his r’s, he pronounced them with his lips. My thoughts go back to the Hill of the Seven Ruins where he watched over me as I slept. On the Square of a Thousand Winds he would sometimes open out his fan, but not to cool himself, more so that the gentle breeze would waft onto my face. I feel my heart constrict at the memory. I still don’t understand why he said no. Why do we want to run away when we recognize our own happiness?
Planes are flying overhead. I hear wave after wave of thunderous explosions. People are screaming in the streets. The Japanese are threatening to flatten the whole city.
The air is drier in Peking than in our Manchurian towns. Everything gleams, shimmers and sparkles in the white sunlight before it is swallowed up into an ashen gray. I have only just got up, but I am already tired again. Peking, the city of my ancestors, is a dream from which I cannot wake up.
I go back to bed and slip in and out of sleep. I see my parents’ faces and feel overwhelmed by the sight of them. Then I make my way slowly to the Square of a Thousand Winds, towards the go table. I feel so happy when I pick up the icy stones. The Stranger is there, steady as a statue. Our game continues, evolving along its convoluted route towards the Land of Purity.
At night Jing listens to the tumult of successive skirmishes and falls asleep leaning against the wall. I am suddenly woken by his screams of horror. He has his hands to his head and is struggling like a man possessed. I get out of bed and hold him in my arms. How can I leave him?
At dawn he shakes me awake. He has made up his mind: it is better to head south and risk dying under the bombs than waiting to be massacred here. I regret following my impulses: I wanted freedom and now I am Jing’s prisoner.
“I must talk to my cousin, he’s my only relation here. Keep looking for him. Let’s find him and go with him.”
Jing’s expression darkens.
“I lied earlier when I said he had moved houses. I saw his wife and she’s gone almost mad. Lu’s abandoned her and signed up for the army. He may already be dead.”
“You’re lying! Give me my cousin’s address back.”
“Here, have it, you’ll see for yourself.”
I know that Jing is telling the truth and I cry out in despair.
“I want to go back to Manchuria. We’ve got to go our separate ways. I’m going home, I’m going back to my game of go.”
“It’s too late. There’s no more public transport. All the trains have been commandeered by the Japanese army. You don’t have a choice now, you’ll have to come with me.”
“You’re jealous of Min,” I spit at him. “You’ve taken me away from my town to erase him from my memory.”
“Min slept with you for pleasure. Don’t forget that Tang was everything to him, his big sister, his teacher and his wife!”
Jing thinks he can hurt me, but I burst out laughing.
“You’re wrong. Min’s over! I’ve dug a grave in my heart and buried him. I never loved him, anyway. We made a beautiful couple and that made me proud. I enjoyed making you both jealous. But now I see that it was just vanity, do you understand, the vanity of becoming a woman.”