Chapter 2: Chapitre 2 : L'encre sur le contrat de mariage

The snoring in the outer room started up. First came a muffled one, as if a lump of phlegm were stuck in the throat — snore, snore — dragged out long, then another one, and another, one after the other, until it settled into an even rhythm. Liu Cuifang was asleep.

Lin Wanyue lay with her eyes open, staring at the black purlin on the ceiling. She counted the snores, and when she had counted seventy-some and the sound sank down, only then did she throw off the quilt. The quilt was old; the moment she lifted it, bits flaked off with a rustle, the cotton wadding long since matted hard. Her feet stepped onto the icy mud floor, and the cold shot up from the soles of her feet — up to her knees, up to the pit of her heart. In the twelfth lunar month in the Great Northern Wilderness, there was no fire in the room, a layer of white frost had formed at the base of the walls, gritty to a hand's touch. A water vat could freeze and crack in the middle of the night; right now a thin sheet of ice covered the water's surface, catching a faint blue light that came through the window paper.

She stamped her feet, but did not dare use force for fear of making a sound, and felt her way along the base of the wall. The loose earth fallen from the wall's skin grated against her palm. She moved step by step, inched to the edge of the kang, and drew that marriage contract out from under the pillow, her fingertips touching its hard edge. The paper was a little damp, its corners frayed, as if it had been pressed under a pillow for some days.

On the edge of the kang stood half a match and a kerosene lamp, a ring of black smoked around its shade. She picked up the match and struck it against the sole of her shoe — hiss — the flame shrank first, then leapt up, reddening her face and drawing the shadows on the wall out long, trembling and trembling.

The marriage contract was spread on the kang table. Red paper, brush-written characters, the paper the coarse kind the company headquarters used, rustling as it unfolded. She pressed both sides down with her palms, bent her head, and looked at the column for the bridegroom. The ink was uneven — at a single glance you could tell there were two layers of ink, the upper layer still shiny, the lower layer dull and dark. The ink of the three characters "Wang Deshun" had all bled outward, every horizontal and vertical stroke feathering at the edges, plainly smeared on in a hurry by someone whose hand was not even steady.

She scraped lightly at the edge with a fingernail and scraped off a few flecks of ink, then dabbed on a little spittle and rubbed. The dark old ink underneath showed through: it was the character "Gu." Further down was a corner of the two characters "Changfeng."

"What a vicious scheme," she said aloud, her voice pressed extremely low, her breath spraying onto the paper.

Liu Cuifang, a dependent of the Third Company, could not have got hold of a real marriage contract. This paper was most likely a blank form issued by the company, which someone had filled in with Gu Changfeng and then altered with thick ink. She leaned close to the flame, squinted at the grain of the paper, and saw a red mark in the paper's corner — the company headquarters' seal. That seal was stamped crooked, and a small piece was missing from its edge besides.

"Liu Cuifang, ah, Liu Cuifang, you've got some nerve," she sneered at the lamplight's shadow, her jaw clenched so tight her cheeks ached.

She folded the marriage contract into a small square, pressing each fold down hard, neat and square. Then she tore a length of thread from the cuff of her padded jacket, bit the thread end off with her teeth, and by the lamplight stuffed the marriage contract into the slit in the inner lining of her jacket's front. The needle was pinned at her collar; she pulled it out and sewed it in stitch by stitch — the stitches were coarse, but firm; she went back and forth three times and tied a dead knot besides. When she had finished sewing, she pressed the outside of her jacket front: it was flat, nothing showed. Only then did she blow out the lamp and feel her way back to lie down.

The wind outside the window had stopped, and the distant dogs no longer barked. She shrank back into the quilt, her padded jacket pressed at her side, her hand resting on the front of the jacket and not moving. Her mind turned over the things of her previous life. In her previous life she had never seen this marriage contract, had never even touched a corner of the paper; she had been tied straight onto the sledge, the rope cutting into her flesh, and bumped all the way to Houtun. Wang the Cripple had kicked her down to the ground with one foot and said twenty-five yuan had bought a tool for doing work, and spat besides. That mouthful of spittle had landed on the snow and melted a small pit in it, and she remembered it for a lifetime. In this life, she had got her hands on this paper.

The room was black, solidly and deeply black, black enough that she could hear her own heartbeat. She reached out and felt the hard corner sewn into the front of her jacket; the hard corner was still there. Gu Changfeng, battalion commander of the Third Battalion. In her previous life, carrying plates in the county restaurant, she had heard the soldiers say Commander Gu kept away from women, fought fiercely, and protected his own — if a soldier under him was bullied, he could lead men to block the other party's doorway. A man like that — if she truly married him, after his marriage contract had had its name altered by someone, she might not come off worse for it. At that thought, she first startled herself, then felt there was nothing to be ashamed of: staying alive came first.

She turned over and heard the wall clock in the outer room give a single clang. It was midnight. She got up, felt for the enamel mug on the edge of the kang, filled it half full of cold water, and took a sip. The water was so cold the roots of her teeth ached, though her throat cleared a little. She sat for a while holding the mug, then put the mug back in its original place and wiped even the water mark away clean.

The sky had just paled, a layer of blue-grey on the window paper. The door hinge creaked. Liu Cuifang came in carrying an enamel mug, her face piled with a smile, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes squeezed into a heap. "Wanyue, Mother got up early and made you a bowl of porridge. Drink plenty of it, it'll keep you warm on the road."

Lin Wanyue sat up, her padded jacket draped over her shoulders, her arms not in the sleeves. She looked at that mug — it was cooked cornmeal, with a whiff of saccharin floating on it, sweet to the point of cloying. But that astringent smell of herbs underneath could not be covered up.

"Mother, what did you put in this porridge?" she asked.

Liu Cuifang's hand jerked; the rim of the mug knocked against the kang table with a sharp sound, and the bit of Dacron showing at her cuff shook and shook. "Nonsense! Drink it quickly — once it goes cold it'll choke you."

Lin Wanyue slipped down from the kang and stepped into that pair of cloth shoes with the toes poking through, their uppers long since collapsed. She pushed the mug to the corner of the table. "Mother, I thought it through last night. The Wang family match — I accept it. But the marriage contract has to be brought out, so I can look at it."

"Look at what? Can a piece of paper fly away?" Liu Cuifang muttered, but her eyes rolled; she turned and rummaged in the cabinet. The cabinet door squeaked, a drawer was pulled out and pushed back in, and after a long while she fished out that sheet of red paper, its corners wrinkled.

Lin Wanyue took it and unfolded it by the blue light coming through the window paper.

"Mother, look," she tapped the bridegroom column with a finger, "what's written here is Gu Changfeng, Commander Gu of the Third Battalion. You want me to marry into the Wang family and you take the Wang family's bride price, but on this paper it's Commander Gu. Are you cheating the Wang family, or are you cheating me?"

Liu Cuifang reached out to snatch it, her fingernails coming out. "You dead girl, mind your own business! So what if I altered this marriage contract? As long as the Wang family gives the money, that's enough!"

Lin Wanyue hid the marriage contract behind her back and backed up to the edge of the kang. "I'll marry."

Liu Cuifang froze, her hand hanging in mid-air. "Marry what?"

"Gu Changfeng is what's on the marriage contract, so I'll marry Commander Gu." Lin Wanyue stared at her and sent the words out one by one. "If you take a fake marriage contract to fool the Wang family, and the Wang people ask about it at the company, this business of forging a marriage contract will be enough to make you suffer for it. The twenty-five yuan bride price will have to be returned, and you'll be criticized by the company commander besides. Think about it — is Wang the Cripple the kind of man who can stand to take a loss?"

Liu Cuifang's face went white, white for a while and then blue. "You... you'd really marry Gu Changfeng?"

"I'll marry him." Lin Wanyue paused. "But you have to go to Houtun and tell the Wang family the marriage contract was a mistake and this match is called off. Otherwise, today I'll go up to company headquarters and show this paper to the political instructor."

Liu Cuifang opened her mouth, something gurgled in her throat, and after a long while she spat out one sentence: "Fine, I'll go." She turned, went out the door, and slammed it with a bang behind her, her footprints in the snow deep and shallow.

Lin Wanyue stood in the room, listened until those footsteps had gone far away, and only then took the marriage contract out of her padded jacket and wrapped it in oiled paper, three layers, pressing each layer down as she wrapped. She needed to find a place to keep it.

She went out of the house and walked through the snow to the Third Company canteen. The snow's surface had a hard crust; one step down and it cracked with a crunch. Inside the canteen, steam heated the air and the windows were covered in beads of water. The hot water in the big pot bubbled and gurgled, white steam rolling up in gust after gust. Chen Guizhi was kneading dough, her hands dusted with flour; seeing her come, she wiped her hands on her apron. "Wanyue? At this early hour?"

"Auntie Guizhi, my mother told me to hand this paper to Commander Gu's orderly, saying it was a matter of great importance. I'm afraid of losing it — could you lock it in the cabinet for me?"

Chen Guizhi took one look at the oiled-paper packet, opened it, and saw the marriage contract; she gave a start, and her hand did not dare land on the paper at all. "This is a serious business! Has your mother gone mad, daring to alter a thing like this? The other day she even asked me for grain coupons, said they'd be used for Qiuyue leaving home as a bride."

Lin Wanyue took some hot water and held it in her hands. "She asked you for some?"

"I gave her two jin. That mother and daughter — they're no oil-saving lamps." Chen Guizhi shook her head, stuffed the oiled-paper packet into the iron cabinet, locked it, and patted her pocket besides. "Wanyue, set your heart at rest — this paper won't come to any harm in here."

Lin Wanyue went home. At noon, Liu Cuifang came back in a fury, snow stuck to her padded jacket and to her hair as well; the moment she came in the door she stamped her foot. "The Wang family doesn't believe it! They say the money has to be returned, or they'll go to the company to complain! And Wang the Cripple sent word besides: if the twenty-five yuan isn't returned, he'll tie you up to settle the debt!"

Lin Wanyue sat on the kang shelling corn, one kernel at a time, neither hurried nor slow, the corn kernels dropping into the basin with a tap, tap. "You'll have to make up that money yourself. The marriage contract is in the hands of Commander Gu's people. If you dare act recklessly, I'll have people come and investigate at once. Wang the Cripple wants to tie me up? Let him try it, and see whether Commander Gu's bullets agree to it."

Liu Cuifang pointed at her, her finger trembling hard. "You little hussy, you're completely out of line!"

Lin Wanyue wrapped her padded jacket around herself, went out, and borrowed Zhao Tiezhu's 28-inch bicycle, saying she was going to the county town to buy meat coupons. Zhao Tiezhu was wiping the bicycle in the yard, the tip of his nose red with the cold; hearing that it was Commander Gu's business, he readily pushed the handlebars over. "Ride it — the chain's freshly oiled." Liu Cuifang watched from behind the window, a shadow through the window paper, and in the end did not dare to stop her.

Lin Wanyue rode two li out; the wheels wobbled in the snow. She got off and pushed for a stretch, then circled back around, climbed into the canteen through the back window, took the marriage contract back, and tucked it into her bosom. This thing had to be gripped in her own palm.

Night deepened. The wind rose again, and the window paper fluttered, puff, puff. Lin Wanyue, having taken the marriage contract back from Chen Guizhi, sewed it by the kerosene lamp with coarse stitches into the lining layer of the little undershirt she wore against her skin, one seam pressed over the next. The needle tip pricked her finger; she sucked at it, the taste of blood mixed with the smell of cotton cloth. She blew out the lamp, lay down, and pretended to sleep.

After about the time of a meal, the door curtain lifted gently, and a cold wind rolled in with flecks of snow, landing on the edge of the kang and melting in a little while. Lin Qiuyue came in stooped over, her breathing very light, a smell of kerosene on her — she must just have come from her mother's room.

"Sister?" Lin Qiuyue called softly.

Lin Wanyue's breathing was even, her eyelids did not move, but her hand guarded her chest.

Lin Qiuyue felt her way to the side of the kang and first probed under the pillow — empty. She did not believe it, and put her hand into the pillowcase as well, and pulled out a handful of cotton wadding. She lifted a corner of the quilt and felt through the pockets of the padded jacket, felt twice — empty.

"How can it be gone..." Lin Qiuyue muttered. "Mother said it was right under her pillow. Tomorrow morning, when the Wang family comes, it'll still be needed."

She lifted the kang mat and dug with her hand in the cracks between the bricks; a layer of black ash smeared onto her fingers, and there was nothing. Sweat broke out on her forehead; she wiped it with a sleeve, and the hair at her temples was damp.

Lin Wanyue squinted and watched her spinning about in confusion. This stepsister — the same sort as her mother.

Lin Qiuyue finally glanced at the kang, gritted her teeth, and withdrew.

At the doorway, she looked back once and said softly, "Sister, are you asleep or not?"

Lin Wanyue did not move, but her fingers clenched tight on the cloth corner inside the front of her clothes.