Jin supported Mei in covering the furniture and other articles, because he also hated the glare from these things at night. “Even though I do sleep, now and then I open my eyes and see that eerie scene.”
The city had more and more cars, and people’s night life lasted longer and longer, and so cars had recently been passing Mei’s home all night long. After the furniture and other articles were covered, Mei felt that her home was “as solid as a huge rock.” The lamplight that swept past from the cars looked fleeting and insubstantial, and could no longer scare her. Jin was happy, too. He kept saying, “This is great, just great.” He added that although he didn’t wake up at night, he was quite aware of the cars’ rudeness.
“People call this herb ‘snakehead king.’ It can cure snakebites. In the past, it grew all over outside our old home. There were also numerous snakes there. This is the law of combating poison with poison.”
Jin placed the book on his chest, closed his eyes, and lay there. Mei saw only that his mouth was moving. Amused by this, she couldn’t help but interrupt:
“The herb’s scientific name is ‘yizhi huanghua!’”
“Oh, you know this, too. When did you read my book?!”
“At night. My eyesight keeps improving. I can read by the faint light that comes through the windows from the street lamps.”
A slight smile floated up on Jin’s face. Mei wondered how far down the China rose had grown. Maybe Jin should have studied botany when he was young, but instead he had been a salesman. But if Jin had really become a botanist, could he have lived the kind of life he had now? Would the room be filled with plant specimens hanging everywhere? In recent years, he had read this same book about wild plants every day; he had never collected specimens. Not long before, Jin, who seldom went out, had rushed to the city center and brought back these China rose seeds. He had vaguely mentioned a relative’s name, so it seemed that this person had sent them to him.
Mei read Jin’s book in order to search for clues to Jin’s thinking. She admired him greatly. He was so calm! Even though a rat had sneaked into their home, he wasn’t fazed. By contrast, Mei had gone through a period of despair after breaking her collarbone. Along with an aunt who came to help out, Jin silently took responsibility for some of the housework. He seldom consoled her. Perhaps this was because of Jin’s composure. Mei recovered through struggling by herself. As soon as she regained her strength, Jin lay down on his chaise lounge again. He said with a smile that he was “about the same as a paralyzed person.” Mei thought his smile was one of contentment.
The accumulation of water in front of the door was something that happened all of a sudden. It had rained for two days and two nights, and mud had clogged the sewer. By midnight, the front of the apartment had turned into a pool. Just then, Jin had jumped out of bed and rushed barefoot into the rain. The battery-powered light on the windowsill was shining on the plastic awning over the flowers. Wielding a hoe, he worked hard in the rain. After about two hours, he had dug a trench to divert the accumulated water. It had never occurred to Mei that Jin could still be so energetic. It was as though he were fighting for his life.
When he returned, he was too tired to talk. He slowly removed his wet raincoat and slowly lay back down. Mei rubbed his hair with a dry towel.
“The flowers are safe now. They’d all be dead if I hadn’t saved them. We can’t imagine what the growing environment underground is like. We can only infer what it is. I learned about this once. ”
With that, he went to sleep. As he snored, his lips moved slightly. Mei wondered what he was saying. Was he talking with the underground plants?
In the morning, the sun came out. Standing at the plastic-film awning, Ayi was looking around suspiciously.
“Mei, nothing is growing in here. Could we dismantle the awning? They’re interfering with the drain, and they don’t look good, either.”
“Ayi, how can you say this? I planted them myself. I told you they’re the China rose, a special variety that grows underground. During the night, Jin brought them back from the brink of death.”
“Huh. You’re really stubborn and deluded. Some people are still really pleased to live this way.”
Ayi’s husband called out to her from their home. When she went home, she turned around again and looked at the flowerbed a few times. Mei thought her expression was filled with curiosity; that’s to say that Ayi certainly wasn’t convinced of what she had said. Then, she heard Ayi and her husband arguing in loud voices. What they were arguing about, however, she couldn’t hear.
When Mei entered the apartment, she saw that Jin was still sleeping. He was so calm. Suddenly, Mei wondered: What if all the flower seeds they had planted were beautiful little pebbles? She thought back for a while: it seemed this was really possible. When she had held them in her hand, they had felt cold and had also made a ding ding sound! Was it because of this quality that they could grow downward and blossom? Ayi had evidently misunderstood. If you believed in something like this, it was true; if you didn’t believe in it, it wasn’t. Ayi evidently didn’t believe in it.
More than thirty years ago, when the newly married Mei and the newly married Ayi had moved to this building, it was desolate here. Mei frequently noticed her neighbor take a small stool outside and sit at the entrance to watch the setting sun. When, little by little, the last rays turned dark, the view of this woman’s back gave her a sense not only of loneliness but also of stubbornness. When they saw each other, they were courteous, as were the two husbands. Mei seldom saw Ayi’s husband. He was a steelworker, and he always stayed inside after work. A gloomy atmosphere hung over their home. Mei thought that Ayi and her husband were well suited; they never quarreled. Then what were they arguing about today? The flower seeds? Now the setting sun couldn’t be seen. Life went on indoors, but the view of her back in the past had lasted until today. In the past, when the setting sun could be seen, the future was still hidden entirely in confusion.
=
“My relative lives at No. 3 Youma Lane. It’s a distant relative, so we ordinarily don’t see one another. If you’re interested, you can go to see him. Because that place has undergone reconstruction, it’s a little hard to find.”
Jin was speaking of the relative who had given him the flower seeds.
“If I go to see him, I’ll have to find an excuse,” Mei said.
“You can ask him how to grow the brilliant purple China rose.”
Mei was excited. After eating lunch, she skipped her nap, tidied up a little, and went out.
In the clusters of new construction in the city center, Youma Lane had disappeared. Mei asked several persons before learning that the old building at No. 3 Youma Lane had been demolished, and all the former residents had been resettled in a row of simple single-story houses. An old tire repairman told her that Teacher Bing now lived in the westernmost building.
At first, Mei was startled by Teacher Bing’s appearance. He was like a wild man: a mass of gray whiskers covered his face, and gray hair fell below his shoulders. He was bleary-eyed.
“Ah, the brilliant purple China rose.” His voice buzzed out from his whiskers. “This is a variety that used to exist, but now no one can grow it successfully. The rules for growing it are simple: it grows only when you forget it.”
“How does one forget it?”
“Each person has his own ways. For example, I scatter seeds everywhere at random — next to the ditch, in holes people dig for trees, in the holes of new house foundations, in the earth on old thatched roofs, and so forth. One day, I saw a bulge in the earthen wall of a thatched hut. After I moved the mud on it, my plant was revealed. After thinking about it, I finally remembered that I had sown seeds on top of the wall. Mei, it’s better if you don’t look into this too much.”