The idea brought relief and cheered her up a bit to her surprise. With her mind settled, she began to consider the possibilities, the first of which was the well in the yard in front of her office building, a deep, dark well. But she gave up on that after much thought because the blackness of the well seemed scarier than death. So what about hanging? No, she couldn’t bring herself to do that either. Back in Wang Family Village, she’d seen a hanging corpse with blood oozing from the nostrils, upturned eyes, and a protruding tongue; it was a horrible sight. Yuxiu was too pretty to do that to herself, for even if she were to turn into a ghost, she wanted to be an attractive one. In the end, it came down to the water right there in front of the purchasing station. It was a good location, wide open with clear water; it was where she worked, and the retaining wall was neat and well constructed.
Now that her mind was made up, she was no longer in a hurry to die. Relieved, she wanted to enjoy a few good days. If she lived another day, she’d enjoy life one more day; in fact, it would be a stolen day since she considered herself already dead. Finally she was able to get a good night’s sleep and relish what she ate. The rice tasted better, the noodles tasted better, the steamed buns tasted better, even the peanuts and radishes tasted better; every bite brought her pleasure and enjoyment. Water tasted sweeter than ever. Yuxiu had a revelation: Life is good. There were so many things to enjoy, why hadn’t she noticed them before? Once she began to take notice, every second and every minute felt different; she savored them all and, feeling the enticement of life, was suddenly unwilling to part with it. She began to cherish life again, which in turn brought her heartache. The biggest enemy of death is not the fear of death but the desire to live. It’s great to be alive. It’s wonderful to be alive! If not for her embarrassing belly, she’d rather, as the saying goes, “Plod along in this world than be buried in the earth beneath it.”
But her belly kept growing, bigger and bigger. Even with the overcoat, she still had to wrap it with a sash every morning, and she could not be too careful; the slightest misstep would be disastrous. Having her belly cinched like that did not actually hurt, but sometimes it made breathing difficult, which was worse. She could exhale but not inhale, since the air she sucked in was blocked, and that caused great discomfort. After all, breathing is different from everything else; you cannot stop, you rely on it every second of your life. For Yuxiu, some aspects of life had become the worst kind of torture. After nightfall, she’d relax a bit by secretly untying the sash and taking deep breaths; she felt wonderful and free, and it seemed that every pore in her body was thanking her. No amount of gold or silver could have bought such comfort. But feeling comfortable was one thing; her appearance was another.
She could not bear to look at herself. You call that a figure? Is that really Yuxiu? She was a startling, scary sight to herself. She could not see her feet. They were blocked by a bulge, a protrusion that stretched her belly into a round, thin, inky, ugly balloon that would pop if pricked with a needle. With the belly unbound, the naughty little imp inside was so happy it couldn’t keep its little paws quiet. It even knew how to tease her. When she put her hand on the left side, it would rush over to kick that spot, as if to remind her that it was still there. When she moved her hand to the right, it took no time for the imp to rush over and give her another kick, as if inviting her to come in for a visit. So she moved her hand around, left and right, here and there, sending the imp into a flurry of movement until, exhausted and upset, it began to ignore her.
She whispered to herself, “Come, come over to Mama.” Never imagining that she would say something like that, Yuxiu was shocked and stunned by how she had blurted out the word “Mama.” She froze at the thought. But Yuxiu was going to be a mother. Tender feelings rose up inside, causing her shoulders to sag, as if she were gradually swirling into herself, one eddy after another. She seemed to be on the verge of total collapse as she thought to herself, Yuxiu, you’re soon to be a mother; you’re going to have your own child. Her heart constricted, nearly crushed by the thought. She could not face herself; she simply couldn’t. She sat vacantly on the edge of the bed for a long time before snatching up the sash, wrapping it around her belly, and pulling at it, tighter and tighter, as if to crush herself. “Don’t move again. Do you hear me?” she said to her belly. “It’s your fault, and I’m going to crush you.”
While she wanted to hate the baby, nothing could subdue the love she felt for it; they were bound by flesh and blood. Sometimes she’d think about only herself and at other times about the baby; she was happy sometimes and anguished at others. In the end, she could no longer tell how she felt. She was lost. She had originally planned to enjoy a pleasant New Year’s holiday, since it wasn’t far off and wouldn’t last long. When it was over, she’d steel herself and end it all. But she abruptly changed her mind because she could not and would not live on. She was too tired and near the point of exhaustion and fatigue; a single day began to feel like a year. If she couldn’t go on, then why force the issue? Why not end it early and save herself all that trouble? So one evening, when dinner was over, she finished her chores, hummed a few lines of Henan opera, and chatted briefly with Yumi. Then she locked herself in the room behind the kitchen, where she began combing and braiding her hair, making sure the braids were tight so they would not come loose in a strong wind or become unraveled from the motion of rolling waves. It would be terrible if her hair spread out in the water and gave her a crazed look. When her hair was done, she wrapped her wages in a piece of cloth and tucked the bundle under her pillow so Yumi could buy some nice clothes for her. She laid down the house key, turned out the light, and walked over to the cement pier at the grain-purchasing station.
The night sky was black; the air freezing cold. The wide river flowed past the station; a lake stood off in the distance. Nothing stirred on the surface of the water except the flickering lights on a couple of fishing boats, creating a static, gloomy chill. Yuxiu shivered as she walked down the cement steps all the way to the water’s edge, where she dipped her right foot in to see how cold it was. An icy chill bored into her bones and quickly spread through her body. She pulled her foot out and stepped backward. But only for a moment. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the cold, she mocked herself. You’re here to die, so go ahead.
She took four steps into the water, stopping when it reached her knees and looking out at the eerie dark surface; there was nothing to see, but she sensed an empty vastness, a submerging depth. Tiny wavelets beat at the legs of her pants like small hands grabbing at her. Tiny hands that filled the watery depth reached out for her, each with many furry fingers cramming their way into her heart. A bone-piercing panic sent her back to dry land, where, because of her big belly, she fell the moment she reached the steps. Sprawled on the ground, she gulped down mouthfuls of air before she could get up and walk back toward the water. This time she did not get far before her thoughts grew tangled and she was gripped by fear. She managed only two steps.
Throw yourself in, she demanded. Go ahead, do it and everything will be fine. She couldn’t do it. The terror of dying is the most intense right at the moment before death. Yuxiu shook all over, desperately wishing there was someone to push her. Standing up to her knees in water, she exhausted her courage and returned to dry land in despair. Death, naturally, begets greater despondence than life. But sometimes the reverse is true.