"Have you brought the money?"
"Yes."
"She isn't your real sister?"
"Practically," I said, "we're from the same village."
"Oh," he said, "wait here." He walked a few steps towards the door, then turned back to me. "This girl's no good. I've arrested her twice now—she hasn't learnt her lesson. I'd send her to Re-education Through Labour if she wasn't pregnant."
I stared at him in shock. "She's pregnant?"
When Cai Weixiang appeared, she was wearing so little it made you embarrassed to look. A short beige silk jacket that only covered half her breasts, and beige silk short-shorts. Her hair was permed and looked like a bird's nest. Her feet were hanging out of the back of a pair of scruffy red flip-flops. To look at her standing hunched over there, you could understand why we call prostitutes "chickens" . Although it was summer, it had rained throughout the night before. She must have been freezing, she had her arms clutched round herself and she was hunched over. I almost couldn't recognise her. In front of the police officer, she dared to moan at me. "Brother, what took you so long?"
Once outside, I had planned to give my uncle a ring and get him to come and fetch her. But she looked at me with eyes like daggers, and said, "How much did you give them?"
"Eight hundred."
"OK. I'll pay you back. But you can't tell my Dad. You can't say anything to folks from the village, or I'll tell them this kid is yours. Get it?"
I was speechless. Was she really going to be such a bitch?
"Xiang," I said, "I've bought you a train ticket. Go home."
"I'm not going. I'm not going back until I've made something of myself."
"Xiang, your Dad is worried sick."
"Don't mention him. Don't mention my Dad."
"So, what are you …? Are you just …?"
"What do you mean by that? Butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, huh? My Dad gave you everything. You got all the opportunities. What more d'you expect?"
"I heard, you, you already got arrested twice. You said …"
"Didn't you get your opportunities through giving gifts? I don't sell anything except myself. I never sold you. What, sad about the money? I said I'll pay you back."
"I'm sad about you."
"Don't be. Diu, you're a celebrity, I'm a slut. Let's just let each other be."
This was already the second time I'd met her. After I moved to the city, the very first time I ever entered a foot washing parlour, it was her who washed my feet. I knew she hated me. And she hated her Dad. She was a seed of hate. There were ants in her eyes; I've known ants since I was little, and there were whole nests of ants swimming in her eyes. The ants' lamps are jet black.
"Your situation …" I said.
"Don't you worry about it. I can deal with it."
"So are you …?"
"You do your thing. I'll do mine. I'll pay you back the money. Just don't tell my Dad," she said, and immediately vanished into the crowd of people.
And I was left standing on the pavement like a fool, clutching my bike.
I almost had a breakdown.
The burden I was carrying was too heavy. I was almost overwhelmed by the weight of Wuliang village. I longed to flick my burden off and stand free, looking down at the scenery from a height. I wanted to say, I'm an orphan, I've got nothing to do with you. But I couldn't.
I was afraid to pick up the phone. As soon as I heard it ring my scalp tingled with fear. I could never work out who had given my number to the people in the village, but I suspected at one point that it was Kale. I cursed him countless times. I only stayed at yours one night, didn't I? And then you offered me up. But I knew that actually it had little to do with Kale. Since we parted, he'd never tried to get hold of me. I think I had probably become the last hope of Wuliang village, the only thing they could cling onto … As soon as they were in trouble, they desperately wanted to find an "official" to protect them. But I was not an official.
Every time the phone rang, I would put on an accent, and fling a load of Beijing dialect down the line. "'Allo, who's this? Who? Who you want? … oh, a chap called Wu eh? Wu as in the character written with the mouth and the sky? Not'ere, not in. On a business trip … When will'e be back? Well, hard to say, innit …'Allo? Who you want? Wang? There's no Wang'ere. Hu? No Hu either. Wrong number mate. This is the office! …'Allo, who's there? Rabbit? What rabbit? Who's a rabbit? You? Oh, you want someone called … throw? You been thrown about? Then call the police, don't talk claptrap to me. Oh, the name's Wu? Wu with a mouth and a sky? Wu Zhipeng? I think … yes, there's a Wu'ere. But'e's gone. Yeah, yeah. Gone, moved … where to? Oh, I dunno about that …" I even tried to be a real rascal, saying things like, "Hello, who am I? I'm from the State Council. The State Council of the People's Republic of China. I'm sending you ten thousand tonnes of wheat. Who are you? … I'm your uncle!"
Nobody wants to live in guilt. Every time the phone rang and I turned away, my heart wept. I saw the endless fields and cattle barns of my hometown. I saw the old nagging oxen glaring at me, saying, "Wu Zhipeng, you drink people's milk and now you're full of bullshit. You're glossy outside and rotten within, like donkey shit. Despicable!"
I hid from the phone as if it was the plague. There were so many calls, in the end I even played pranks. When the phone rang for me, I would take the receiver and resolve not to speak any human words, or at least not Chinese. I would jabber down the phone, "First, second, third, fourth …" in English. Listening to those voices, from so far away, was like talking to the Earth God. I swirled my tongue around my mouth, and pretended to bow respectfully. In the village, only the Earth God can be cheated.
But sometimes I couldn't hide. Once my female colleague shouted loudly for me to come and get the phone, and I had to accept it. But I regretted it as soon as I did. It was my uncle calling, and I dared not refuse him. "Diu, there's a problem," he said.
My stomach leapt in terror when I heard that! I held myself together and asked, "What's happened?"