Strange Beasts of China, page 11
‘So you’re finally answering,’ said Zhong Liang’s voice. ‘I need your help.’
Without waiting for him to finish, I wailed, ‘Zhong Liang, come rescue me! I’m at the Dolphin Bar.’
By the time he showed up, I was passed out on the table. Jiang Tan’s prattling about his complicated love life over the last decade had lulled me into sleep. Zhong Liang tapped my face, calling my name.
Later, he told me that when I came to, I’d hugged him and burst into tears, then begged him to take me to see our professor. I didn’t believe him.
‘I don’t care if you believe me or not,’ he said. ‘That moron was so scared of you, he actually shut up for a minute. You were crying so hard, I thought you’d start an earthquake.’
Blushing with rage and shame, I shouted, ‘I’m older than you, show some respect, little boy! That’s no ordinary moron, he’s the man who discovered the thousand league beast.’
Zhong Liang’s face changed – he was, after all, our professor’s pupil. Like a begging dog, he inched closer to me. ‘What did you find out from him?’
‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘He wouldn’t tell me anything.’
Zhong Liang sighed. ‘You’ve gotten old. If you were still young and beautiful…’
I flung a book at him. ‘You have a go, then! You’re young and beautiful, offer yourself up on a plate and see if he bites!’
‘Fine,’ said Zhong Liang, not turning a hair. ‘I’ll give him a call.’
He called Jiang Tan’s number. Call declined. He tried again. Phone turned off.
I looked sidelong at him and sneered, ‘So you thought you could teach me a lesson, but it’s Jiang Tan who is the true master.’
Zhong Liang let out a yelp as if he’d just remembered something, and his face turned pale. ‘You have to help me: could you buy garlic scapes?’
For the second time that day, I almost fell out of my chair.
‘You don’t understand,’ he whined. ‘The professor lost his marbles yesterday. He told me I had to go find you and make you buy him scapes, otherwise he’d drop me from all his classes.’
It took me three seconds to understand this babble of words. My face twitched. ‘Have you both gone insane? It’s autumn! Where am I supposed to find garlic scapes?’
Zhong Liang grinned slyly, and pulled a supermarket coupon from his pocket. ‘Four Seasons brand tinned scapes – two for the price of one!’
* * *
—
IN THE END, IT WAS EASIEST JUST TO GO ALONG WITH IT. I followed Zhong Liang to Joyful Supermarket, which was absolutely packed. I jostled through the crowds, quietly cursing Zhong Liang, who’d disappeared to god knows where, while I was still reeling from my hangover, and looking everywhere for these mythical tinned scapes. Suddenly, there was a stabbing pain in my ankle. I spun round, and there was Jiang Tan, clutching a bag of frozen pig entrails, searching for something on the vegetable racks. I shouted his name and grabbed his arm.
He jumped in fright, and the entrails clattered to the ground. He stared at me for a second before breaking into a smile. ‘Oh, hello. What are you buying?’
‘Garlic scapes,’ I muttered.
‘Garlic scapes…’ he repeated, an enchanting sadness on his face. I was almost moved, but my novelist’s instincts asserted themselves, and I forced myself to stay calm. ‘When did you go to the dig today?’ I asked.
‘About six,’ he said, as if it were nothing at all.
‘So late?’
‘No point going too early if there’s nothing new to find. I thought I’d have a bite to eat first.’
‘Give me a call if you think of anything interesting,’ I badgered him.
‘All right,’ he said, reaching out like a kungfu warrior to grab a pumpkin, then picking the intestines off the floor. As he started walking away, he thought of something, and turned back. ‘Tinned scapes are on the second shelf to your left.’
I looked, and there they were, Four Seasons brand, taking up half the shelf. Exactly like the TV ads. I grabbed one and went to pay, and there was little Zhong Liang, two people ahead of me in the queue, with so many snacks he might have been stockpiling for a famine. I tossed the tins into his trolley, and decided I’d done everything that could be asked of me.
And still Zhong Liang wouldn’t let me off. ‘Could you give the professor a call?’ he said playfully. ‘Tell him you bought the scapes, otherwise he’ll scold me.’
Why not accompany the Buddha right up into the heavens? I listlessly took out my phone and made the call. He picked up on the first ring. ‘Did you buy me a scape?’
‘Yes,’ I said, wondering if I was going to start laughing or crying.
‘That’s it?’ He seemed unhappy.
‘Yes.’ I couldn’t summon the energy to say any more.
‘You’ll have to do it again tomorrow.’
I thought I’d misheard him. ‘What?’
‘You’ll have to buy me a scape again tomorrow.’ His voice was unwavering.
‘Like hell I will!’ I hung up and stormed off, ignoring Zhong Liang as he wailed for me to come back.
For god’s sake. I might be a nobody, but I had a living to earn. Everything cost so much. Did he think I was just sitting around waiting for him to give me a task?
I decided to phone Jiang Tan and pester him till he brought me to the site. If I could sniff out a few salient details, I might have enough for a short story that would pay in money if not tears. Alas, once again, he’d turned his phone off. The nerve.
* * *
—
JIANG TAN SHOWED UP THAT NIGHT – ON MY TV SCREEN. OUR local station was doing a special report on a female thousand league beast whose bones had been laid out on a slab. Jiang Tan stood nearby, pretty as ever. The camera panned across the huddled skeleton of the young beast, shreds of clothing clinging to the bones. ‘We found her just this afternoon,’ said Jiang Tan. ‘Very well-preserved. Death by suicide.’
‘Why did she kill herself?’ the reporter asked.
Jiang Tan’s smile could have brought down cities. Half of Yong’an held its breath. ‘Maybe she was advanced for her age, and had early-onset depression.’ I almost smashed my screen in.
In the middle of the night, the idea for a story came to me. If thousand league beasts knew everything that would happen in the next thousand years, then they’d be born knowing their own fate. Perhaps an entire generation of young beasts killed themselves exactly because of that, thereby ending their species.
Through that, I threaded a love story between two beasts. The ironclad rule of a newspaper fiction writer: never leave out the romance. The plot was full of holes, of course, but nobody expects short stories to make sense.
I hastily handed in my draft the next day. The love story was so mawkish, it was accepted right away. ‘You wrung every bit of emotion out of the older beast falling for the younger,’ my editor gushed. ‘When the young beast committed suicide and the older one starved to death, tears came to my eyes.’
I laughed and hung up. Hugging myself, I sat on the balcony and enjoyed the waning autumn sun. When my professor read this shitty short story, he’d probably feel physical pain. The thought warmed me. I couldn’t stop smiling.
When I first met him, I was a shy, awkward girl who didn’t talk to strangers. I’d insisted on gaining admittance to the zoology department because I wanted to learn all about beasts. On the first day of school, he showed up in a black jumper, dark-rimmed glasses on the high bridge of his nose. He strode up to the lectern and stared at us for a beat, chewing gum. ‘Forget everything you know,’ he said. ‘I’m here to rescue you.’
The lecture theatre burst out laughing, and I couldn’t help joining in. I was third on the list when he took attendance. He called my name three times, pretending he couldn’t hear because my voice was too soft. Irritated, I walked out, and he called after me in a rage, ‘If you have the guts, don’t ever come back!’
I didn’t have the guts, so I came back. I wanted to study zoology, and he was the very best teacher we had, world-famous, a credit to our city and our school.
The last time we quarrelled, we actually ended up hitting each other. Pushed beyond endurance, he held me and roared, ‘When will you learn to do as I say?’
‘Never!’ I spat.
He shoved me away with another roar and sat down. ‘Where did you come from, to make my life this hard? Where did you come from?’
I stood firm, then finally I walked over slowly and sat down in front of him, crying.
He reached out to brush the tears off my face, looking upset. ‘I’m sorry, don’t cry. I know, I know.’
I stared at him. There were wrinkles around his forehead, and threads of red in his eyes. His features were etched into his face, and his lips were thin but strong. ‘Stop crying,’ he said.
That was the last time I saw him.
* * *
—
HE TRIED TO VISIT. THE DOORMAN, FEI, SAID, ‘A MIDDLE-AGED guy came looking for you, but you were out. He left this.’ It was an envelope with my professor’s handwriting on it, containing a copy of the newspaper with my story, and next to it an advertisement – ‘Live in Thousand League Mansions, Enjoy a Thousand Year View’. So that’s why my editor wanted the story: to be part of someone else’s sales pitch. I wondered how much he’d been paid for that. Across the headline, scrawled like he was marking an essay: ‘This is dogshit.’ I smiled grimly, then noticed he’d written below with a ballpoint pen, ‘A SCAPE.’
Had he actually gone mad from craving garlic scapes? As far as I could remember, he had no strong passions except for mashed potato and beasts. I’d never seen him so enthusiastic. I pursed my lips, but didn’t follow my instincts to toss the paper away. Instead, I thanked Fei and went upstairs to my flat.
I’d just come from the archaeological dig, where there’d been no sign of Jiang Tan, and Cai Chong wasn’t back yet either. The only new item they’d found was a refrigerator, but it hadn’t been opened yet – the team was still chipping away at the rust sealing it shut.
I opened my own fridge and got out the milk, then slumped on the sofa drinking from the carton. If my professor knew I’d been back to the site, he’d surely have been moved. There’s hope for you yet, I could hear him saying.
No sooner had I had that thought when the phone rang. It was Zhong Liang. ‘Your story about the thousand league beasts sucked.’
I couldn’t be bothered getting angry. ‘That’s why you called? Did you lose your funding or something?’
‘Not at all,’ he said smugly. ‘In fact, we’re about to launch a new project. Guess who our professor met recently? You won’t believe this, but it was Cai Chong! We’re going to research thousand league beasts. He hasn’t confirmed this, but I’m pretty certain.’
I felt something thud in my head. ‘Cai Chong? The archaeologist?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘When did they meet?’
‘Maybe two weeks ago?’ I counted on my fingers – that was before news broke about the thousand league beasts. What a cunning fox.
‘Why didn’t you tell me when I saw you before?’
‘I didn’t know who Cai Chong was till now,’ he said innocently. ‘I never read the papers.’
I had nothing to say to that. It’s hard dealing with someone who lives in a cave.
* * *
—
AFTER HANGING UP, I SAT THERE BLANKLY, STILL CLUTCHING my phone. I didn’t dare call my professor. My eyelid was twitching so violently, I thought it might be trying to leave my face. I didn’t know what he was up to, but he was capable of anything.
In my second year of university, he had an innocent young man sent to prison, then played the Good Samaritan and engineered his release, all so he could get his hands on some research materials about a species of beast. That led to my very first argument with the professor. I nearly set fire to the lab. The young man almost lost his mind in prison, and killed himself soon after his release. He left all his belongings – including the research materials, of course – to his saviour, my professor. I’d screamed that he was a terrible person, and his face sank. ‘It’s survival of the fittest,’ he said. ‘He was too weak. It’s not my fault. Someone like him would have died sooner or later.’
I grabbed the folder from him and would have torn it apart, but he smacked me across the face. ‘Have you lost your mind? You crazy woman. Do you know how precious this is?’
I fell to the ground. Panicking, he’d rushed over and tried to help me to my feet, but as soon as he was within range, I smacked him back. That wasn’t enough. While he was still stunned, I hit him again.
He stared, then burst into laughter. He hugged me, and laughed so hard he started coughing. ‘I don’t know what to do with you. You were sent to test me.’
I started laughing too. We never argued again over this sort of thing.
My mother once said to me, ‘You know what? Pity is useless. You might feel pity for someone if they died, but if you died, they wouldn’t even look at you. Just go on living, that’s the only way. Whether you’re a human or a beast, just go on living.’
I didn’t dare make the call.
Two hours later, the phone finally rang. It was Fei. ‘The gentleman who brought the letter is back. Shall I send him up?’
I caught my breath. ‘Give him the phone.’
‘Hello,’ said my professor. There was an anxiety in his voice I’d never heard before.
‘What happened?’ I laughed. ‘A mountain could fall, and you wouldn’t turn a hair. Is the world about to end?’
Now he laughed too. ‘I want to see you,’ he said.
‘No.’
‘Yes.’ When had he become so determined?
‘No.’ Still laughing.
‘Fine.’ He hung up on me.
I blinked, and quickly called back. Busy. He hadn’t put the phone down properly!
I flung on my shoes and rushed out, then darted back in for my comb. Going down in the lift, I tried to neaten my hair. Seventeen floors later, I walked out into the foyer. Fei was by the entrance, reading the paper and looking bored. ‘Where’s the man?’ I asked.
‘Just left,’ said Fei, and went back to his newspaper. I fought a sudden urge to beat him to death, and rushed out into the street. The sun was so bright. Autumn was slipping away, and it was nearly winter. The street was wide and ashy white. I didn’t see a single person I recognised.
This was the city I lived in: Yong’an. Its tall buildings, its magnificent streets, its prospering industries. Wanderers and exiles lived here, and no excavation would uncover anything past seven decades old. Every person here was a stranger, and the beasts were unfamiliar too. The only person I knew was so very far away. My mother had said, ‘Remember the time we had together, remember that I once loved you. Then we’ll part forever.’
Each day in this city, there were five hundred and thirteen traffic accidents, three hundred and twenty-eight migrant workers leaping to their deaths, seventy-eight cases of food poisoning, fifty-two rapes, and countless other suicides and attempted suicides. We never heard about the stories that didn’t make it to the news – and those we did know about were never anything to do with us.
That night, I dreamed about being at university again. Like a dark joke, my professor inexplicably forced me to buy every garlic scape in the city – or he’d drop me from his classes, and I’d never graduate. Like Charlie Chaplin, I scurried around with no expression, grabbing every tin I could find. Two for the price of one, three for the price of two, no discount, marked-up, all of them went into my bag. ‘Bastard,’ I muttered. ‘I’m spending my life savings on this. Am I going to starve or die of poverty? ‘
The ringing phone woke me from this nightmare. I was covered in cold sweat, but I could still laugh as I answered. It was Zhong Liang, that summer child. His voice was low, as if he’d encountered the first real difficulty in his life. ‘What is it, my boy,’ I crooned. ‘Which little girl do you have a crush on? Or did you get kicked off a course?’
‘Have you seen today’s paper?’ said my caveman.
‘Wow.’ This was new. ‘Since when did you start reading the papers?’
‘Go look,’ he said, sounding as stern as our professor. He must have rubbed off on his young pupil. I hurried downstairs to buy a newspaper and scanned the headlines: ‘Progress in Thousand League Beast Dig’; ‘City Councillor Makes Speech About Spiritual Civilisation’; ‘New Design for Yong’an City Coat of Arms’; ‘Megastar to Hold Concert’; ‘University Fees to be Devolved’…
The words blurred before my eyes. I called Zhong Liang. ‘What am I looking at?’
‘Page thirteen.’
‘Page thirteen…“Singer Took Nude Photos Before She Was Famous…” What?’
‘Rightmost column. “The News in Brief.” Third line.’
It read, ‘…Yong’an University Zoology Professor Killed in Car Accident, Industry Insiders Say Zoology Books Suddenly in Demand Throughout Yong’an…’
‘Did you see it?’ Zhong Liang said. ‘Did you? Hello?’
* * *
—
MY EDITOR CHEERFULLY INFORMED ME THAT MY BOOK HAD done especially well that month, and for the first time in years, I would be on the bestseller list. ‘Everyone’s talking about beasts! There’s so much news about them.’
‘Do I get a bonus?’ I asked.
‘Of course, of course,’ he said, falling over himself to demonstrate his benevolence. ‘When will your next manuscript be ready?’
‘Very soon, but I want a bigger cut of the royalties.’
‘Of course,’ he said hastily. ‘But as for—’
