Sometimes Wang Qiyao would go home empty-handed; other times she bought lots of items that she did not want, but piling them into the pedicab made her feel better. She did not know where she wanted to go, but the motion of going forward gave her the sensation that she was getting closer. As the street scenes on either side of her flew past, time was also flying past — that at least was progress.
While Wang Qiyao was going out for her rides, several of her neighbors vacated their apartments. She did not see them go, but only sensed that her surroundings had grown even quieter. To fill the vacuum, she put on Mei Lanfang’s records and turned the gramophone up high. The singing echoed and reverberated through the rooms, making the apartment feel emptier. One day she opened the windows to look at the sky, and was startled to see sparrows flocking all over the balcony across from her. The woman who lived there must have moved out. She looked around and realized that many of the apartment windows were tightly shut and leaves had collected around the windowsills, showing that those units too were empty. Alice Apartments was apparently in a slump. Her heart sank but she comforted herself, saying, As soon as Director Li returns, everything will be fine. But when will he be back?
She went out more frequently, sometimes three times a day: morning, afternoon, and evening. She would complain that the pedicab was too slow, ordering the driver to go faster, as if she were racing with the cars. She hurried out and hurried back, seemingly on an urgent mission. She scanned the road eagerly, as if her eyes could carve out a Director Li from the crowd. She burned with so much anxiety her lips became parched.
She realized that more than two weeks had gone by since Director Li’s last visit; it felt like an eternity. Her patience had run out — she could not stand it another minute. She went out again but, shortly after she stepped out, Director Li arrived. His face was drawn with apprehension. He asked the maid where Wang Qiyao had gone, and was told she went shopping.
“When will she be back?”
“One can never tell,” the maid replied. “Sometimes she comes right back, sometimes she’s gone all day.”
She asked how he would like his lunch, but he explained that he had to leave before noon. The curtains were drawn in the bedroom, but Director Li could feel Wang Qiyao’s breath. Going into the bathroom to shave, he felt her breath there too. There were water spots in the basin left by Wang Qiyao, and strands of her hair in the hairbrush. After shaving, he sat in the living room to wait for her, but she did not show up. Restlessly, he paced the living room, looking at the clock. He had come on a whim, but now that he was here he felt as if he really needed to see her. He had never yearned to see her as much as at that moment: it was like an intolerable thirst. Until the very last minute, as he put on his jacket, he was still hoping that Wang Qiyao would miraculously appear. He left Alice Apartments in dejection. When would he get to see her again?
Ten minutes later he spotted Wang Qiyao from his car. From behind the lace curtain in the rear window, he caught sight of a pedicab approaching until it was almost parallel with his car. There was Wang Qiyao in her autumn coat, her hair blown about by the wind as she tightly clutched her lambskin purse. Her eyes were fixed ahead, as if she was searching for something. The pedicab moved forward alongside the car for a while but then got left behind, and Wang Qiyao disappeared from view. Instead of comforting Director Li, this chance encounter filled him with despair. It was a scene emblematic of a chaotic world, one snapshot in a life that was flying past. The thought struck him that they were actually two people sharing the same fate, one with clear understanding, the other without a clue, but neither had any control over their destinies. Two lonely souls, they had no one to rely on other than themselves, like two autumn leaves blowing in the wind, briefly making contact with each other before being blown apart. The car moved slowly through traffic, the driver beeping the horn. Because he had waited for Wang Qiyao, Director Li was now pressed for time. This was the late fall of 1948. Shanghai was about to undergo massive changes, but the city failed to comprehend this. Neon lights continued to light up each night; wine continued to flow; new Hollywood pictures continued to premiere at the local cinemas; and the latest melodies kept on playing at the dance halls. A fresh group of taxi-dancers paraded themselves.
Wang Qiyao also had no idea what had happened. She had been waiting for Director Li, hoping with all her heart that he would appear; but in the end they were like two shadows passing in the night.
That evening someone else came to Alice Apartments. It was Wu Peizhen. Wearing a black coat, with her hair permed and her lips painted red, she looked very much the picture of a well-to-do married lady, more sophisticated and attractive than she had ever been in her school days. Wang Qiyao hardly recognized her as she entered. Even after ascertaining that it was indeed her friend, she was still quite astonished, saying to herself that Wu Peizhen’s good looks must have been hidden all along by her excessive modesty. Wu Peizhen, on the other hand, felt self-conscious about her new image.
“I’m married,” she said with a blush.
Wang Qiyao felt as if she had been struck a sharp blow. “Congratulations,” she murmured as her eyes went blank.
She sat down without offering a seat to Wu Peizhen. At this point the maid came out with tea. “Please have some tea, Miss.”
Wang Qiyao scolded the maid harshly. “Can’t you see she is a Missus? How can you call her Miss? You must be deaf and blind!”
Stung and bewildered, the maid did not try to defend herself and simply left the room. She knew Wang Qiyao was in a bad mood. Wu Peizhen became even more uncomfortable. She was a sensible person, and being newly married made her particularly sensitive to social nuances. She heard the bitterness in Wang Qiyao’s voice and blamed herself for bringing up the subject as soon as she entered the door, as if she had come to flaunt her marital status. In reality, it had not occurred to her that this was anything to gloat about. She recomposed herself and sat up to face Wang Qiyao, to tell her that she was sorry for the sudden visit but that she could not possibly leave without saying goodbye. Once she left, she said, she did not know when she would see her best friend, and her only friend, again. This might not be how Wang Qiyao viewed their friendship, she realized, but she herself had always done so. Apart from her own parents, Wang Qiyao would be the only person in Shanghai she was going to miss; their carefree time together had been the happiest in her life. Wu Peizhen was overstating the case, but it was true for her then and there. There, amid all the turmoil and chaos, as people became sickened with uncertainty, the past presented itself as the best of times.
Wang Qiyao could not focus as she listened to Wu Peizhen. So many things had happened that day. Her mind was reeling. She had been waiting weeks for Director Li, who would not come; then when he finally came, she was out, and when she got home, he was gone. Now Wu Peizhen showed up, saying she was married, and then told her she was leaving.
When Wang Qiyao had finally calmed down enough to disentangle the events, she interrupted Wu Peizhen: “Where are you going?”
Wu Peizhen had to think for a moment before saying she was leaving for Hong Kong with her husband’s family. The family owned a mid-scale industrial firm that was relocating to Hong Kong. They had tickets on a steamer due to leave the next day.