During these years Shanghai was like a huge sponge that, having been dried up too long, opened its pores to soak up all the pleasure it could. There was still a long way to go before it was saturated. There was more darkness than light in the sky above the buildings; behind those tightly closed windows and doors, most people were sleeping — such paltry sums of pleasure were not enough to go around. If that pleasure were to flow down the street, it would only leave the ground a bit damp. You don’t realize how much pleasure this city needed! Old as those living rooms may have been, they were still functional and large enough to accommodate the singing and dancing of Christmas Eve parties. The pianos were all out of tune, but they were all classic instruments made by J. Strauss & Son. And what about the piano tuners of yore? They needed to be tracked down one by one to resume their old profession — all the old pianos in the city were counting on them. Otherwise what would come of the Christmas songs? And what about all those sonatas and serenades: how would they ever manage?
Weiwei went with Xiao Lin to his classmate’s place for Christmas, leaving Wang Qiyao home alone. She wondered, What Christmas is there to celebrate on a dark gloomy night like this? Sitting down under the lamplight to knit a baby’s wool jumpsuit, she was suddenly struck by the silence all around her. The sounds of people talking and moving about that normally filled the air had completely stopped. Could they have all gone out to celebrate Christmas? At that moment she heard the clock chiming; counting to ten, she realized how late it was. How stupid the whole Christmas holiday was! Who wants to sit together with a bunch of people and listen to the clock strike midnight? Doesn’t it strike midnight every night? Wang Qiyao went to bed well before Weiwei crept back in later that night. When she got up the next morning and set out for the market, Weiwei was still fast asleep, her new boots and clothing strewn around the bed, looking as if she had been on an all-night revel.
Wang Qiyao descended the stairs quietly and went out. The streetlights had just been extinguished. The gloomy sky, portending snow, conveyed a weariness, as if it too had been partying all night. Pedestrians walked briskly past, and Wang Qiyao could see the mark Christmas had left on their faces. She thought: Everyone but me has been celebrating Christmas, but I don’t give a damn! She bought vegetables, milk, soymilk, and deep-fried twisted doughsticks for breakfast. All the way back she walked past children on their way to school, their faces crimson from the cold as they munched on their cold breakfast. Their parents must have just returned from an all-night party and didn’t have enough time to fix them a hot meal. The sun projected its sluggish rays from beyond the haze. When Wang Qiyao got back, the apartment looked exactly as she had left it. Weiwei was still in a deep slumber. The bittersweet odor of the night before filled the room, leaving her feeling vexed. It dawned on her that it was Weiwei’s day off and she wondered how late she would sleep in. She retreated into the kitchen to make herself breakfast. Through the window, she could see the neighbors across the way busily cleaning their apartment, scurrying in and out. A drying pole with clean laundry was pushed out from another window, which quickly shut again. The clothes looked as if they would never dry in the damp cold air. Then came the boy with the morning paper, ringing his bicycle bell. The longtang started to bustle — another day begins.
Weiwei slept well into the afternoon, missing both breakfast and lunch. Wang Qiyao didn’t want to get into a fight with her and let her sleep in. As the clock struck one, Zhang Yonghong arrived. Weiwei turned over and opened her eyes, listening to them talk from under the bedclothes, but she didn’t interrupt. It was rare for Wang Qiyao to see her daughter so peaceful. She asked her if she was hungry, but Weiwei wasn’t. Her face was flushed from sleeping so much and her hair was all messy — she looked like a lazy cat.
“Did you go out for Christmas Eve last night?” Wang Qiyao asked Zhang Yonghong.
Zhang Yonghong looked bewildered. “What do you mean, ‘Christmas Eve’? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Wang Qiyao patiently told her the story of Christmas. Zhang Yonghong listened intently, occasionally asking a few ignorant questions. Weiwei was also listening, but she didn’t say a word. It was a gloomy day and dark inside as well, not the kind of darkness that comes at night, but the kind that seals off the outdoors, leaving people with a feeling of warmth. After listening to Wang Qiyao explain Christmas at some length, Zhang Yonghong exclaimed, “Just think how many exciting things we’ve been missing out on!”
“At least you still have time,” replied Wang Qiyao. “Look at me, I don’t even have that.”
“But you already experienced all of that!” Zhang Yonghong demurred. “How can we compare with you?”
“It is like the theater,” Wang Qiyao consoled her. “The first act may be over, but after an intermission, act two will begin.”
“I hope the intermission doesn’t last too long,” said Zhang Yonghong.
“How could it?” Wang Qiyao replied. “The bells and gongs have sounded. Look at this one!” She pointed to Weiwei, who sank back into her comforter, leaving only her eyes exposed. “She was out being wild all night long!” Weiwei still didn’t say a word.
She told Zhang Yonghong how Weiwei had gone out to celebrate Christmas Eve with Xiao Lin last night. “I don’t even know what time she came back.”
Zhang Yonghong glanced at Weiwei but kept quiet. The room grew a bit darker, and a bit warmer. Wang Qiyao went into the kitchen to boil some water, leaving the two of them in silence, one sitting, one lying down, neither speaking. Weiwei closed her eyes and seemed to fall back asleep. Zhang Yonghong lowered her head, lost in her own thoughts. By the time Wang Qiyao came back from the kitchen, the room had grown so dark you could barely make out the outlines of the two girls. Nobody made a sound for quite some time, each wrapped up in her own concerns. Suddenly, a sharp cackle erupted from the bedclothes. Wang Qiyao and Zhang Yonghong looked over to discover Weiwei had buried her head under the comforter.
“What are you laughing at?” Wang Qiyao asked.
At first there was no answer, but after a while Weiwei offered a giggly response. “What, I’m not allowed to laugh?”
Wang Qiyao paid no heed to Weiwei’s antics. She turned to Zhang Yonghong and asked how things were going with her boyfriend. Zhang Yonghong seemed reluctant to get into the subject and simply said they had broken up. Wang Qiyao had known that this was going to happen, but still was surprised. She wanted to say something, but realized that she had already gone over everything before. But then Zhang Yonghong started to open up. She listed all the bad qualities of the last boyfriend, and each item on her list was a deal breaker.
When she reached the end of her recital, Wang Qiyao smiled. “Zhang Yonghong, you’ve really built up a lot of experience when it comes to judging people. You see right through them, don’t you?”