As far as Guo Jiaxing was concerned, Yumi was best off staying at home to sew and wash and clean. When he told her that, she kept her head down and said nothing, as was expected from the obedient young wife of an older man. That pleased him just fine. So she became a proper housewife, serving her husband in and out of bed. Until the night she took it into her head to be slightly roguish. Her husband had gone out drinking with commune colleagues, and when he came home, thanks to the alcohol, he wanted to take her straight to bed. She said no, which was out of character. So, without a word, he undressed her. She did not resist at first, but when she was naked, she covered herself with one hand and grabbed him with the other. “I said no.” She looked tantalizing, a blend of propriety and promiscuity. She was being playful, and he did not get angry. Instead, inflamed with desire, his heart snapping like a banner in a gale, he reached a point where he’d have inserted his whole body if he could. “I need it,” he said. Yumi ignored him and turned her head away. “I said I need it.”
This time she let go, pressed her breasts against him, and said, “Get me a job at the supply and marketing co-op.”
Guo’s passion had nearly frozen his tongue, and he did not know what to say.
“Do it for me tomorrow,” she said.
He agreed.
Yumi ran her fingers through her hair and lay back, arms and legs open for him. He was so excited by this time that the passionate lovemaking he’d been anticipating turned out to be a disappointment—he finished almost before he began.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly as she lay beneath him, her arms wrapped around his neck.
“I’m really sorry.” She said it so many times that it saddened her and she was soon in tears.
Actually there was no need to apologize. It had not gone well, but ultimately it had no effect on his passion. If anything, it had been an intoxicating experience. He was breathing hard, experiencing a growing attachment to his young wife. She was definitely worth keeping.
The supply and marketing co-op had not been Yumi’s first choice. She’d have preferred an assignment to the grain-purchasing station. And for good reason. The purchasing station was on the river, near Broken Bridge’s largest concrete pier, and it was where all boats to and from the commune tied up or passed by. She figured that if she was put in charge of the scales, a position of authority, anyone who came to town from Wang Family Village could not help but notice her. She had it all worked out. But on second thought, managing scales was dirty work that would keep her out on the pier, and that was not a proper job for someone who lived in town. Clerking at the co-op was more respectable. Better surroundings, lighter work. So, after carefully weighing the pros and cons of each, she settled on the co-op. It was not a permanent position, but she’d get nearly three yuan more in wages. But then, what about the purchasing station job? That should go to someone in her family, of course. At first she thought of Yusui, but she was too empty-headed for that kind of work. No, Yuxiu was the right choice. Intelligent and attractive, she was better suited for life in town than Yusui.
But Yumi had no sooner arrived at her decision than a troubling thought surfaced. I’ve been pinned down in bed, selling what’s between my legs, while that little tramp Yuxiu would land a good job. She’d be in better shape than me.
But that thought did not last. Isn’t what I’m doing the best way to win back some dignity for my family? It’s worth it.
Now Yumi’s most important tasks were to keep performing in bed—doing what he liked best—and to get pregnant as soon as possible. It was critical to take advantage of his sense of newness; if she got pregnant now, managing him would be easy. If not, once the novelty wore off, who’s to say what he’d do? Men are like that. What they want is sex. Feelings mean nothing to them. A woman could have a ton of feelings for a man, and that would not count as much to him as the several ounces she carries on her chest.
Yumi had barely begun working at the co-op and had not found the right moment to talk to Guo Jiaxing about Yuxiu when her sister unexpectedly came to town. She showed up at Guo Jiaxing’s office before nine in the morning, her face wet with dew and sweat. Guo was at his desk reading the paper, but not taking in a word because he was dreamily recalling some of Yumi’s tricks in bed. Sex was all he had on his mind. He rubbed his bald head and sighed, sounding like a man disappointed in himself.
The old house has gone up in flames and can’t be saved, he said to himself. He was not really upset; the sigh was more a display of that special happiness only an aging man knows. So there he sat, happily analyzing the good fortune that had befallen him, when a girl appeared in the doorway of his office. He’d never seen her before and guessed her to be about sixteen or seventeen.
Quickly wiping the expression off of his face, he lowered his newspaper and coughed dryly. He stared at the girl, who showed no hint of fear or any sign of leaving. So, after laying the paper down on the glass top of his desk and sliding the teacup to one side, he leaned back in his chair and said gruffly, “Who let you in here?”
The girl blinked several times and smiled sweetly. “Comrade,” she said abruptly, “you’re my brother-in-law, aren’t you?”
That sounded so funny to Guo that he felt like laughing, but he didn’t. He stood up, clasped his hands behind his back, and shut his eyes. “And who might you be?”
“I’m Wang Yumi’s third sister, my name is Wang Yuxiu. I arrived this morning from Wang Family Village, and you’re my brother-in-law. That’s what the man at the entrance said. You’re my brother-in-law.” The word “brother-in-law” in her crisp voice carried a distinct feel of intimacy, the closeness of family. The deputy director of the revolutionary committee in charge of the People’s Militia could tell at a glance that the girl was Yumi’s sister; the resemblance was unmistakable. But she obviously lacked Yumi’s manners and did not appear to share her sister’s temperament. She was like one of those unbalanced Japanese machine guns, indiscriminately strafing the area— tatatata. Guo walked to the doorway and pointed outside. Then he curled his finger and said, “She’s in the shoe and hat department at the co-op.”
Yuxiu had arrived in Broken Bridge at a little after seven and had already taken a turn around the open-air market. This was not a casual visit. She had come with the express and unwavering purpose of putting herself in the hands of her elder sister. She could no longer stay in Wang Family Village, and the main reason was that Yusui had forced her to wear two labels: “Piss Pot” and “Shit Can.”