The Tragedy of a Married Woman 1

Night, shamelessly descended.

—This is dedicated to Haruhiko ōyabu.

Years ago, I happened to read a book by Haruhiko ōyabu called *The Sorrow of Women*. In those days before computers and cell phones, besides video arcades, the most convenient way to obtain information about sex was through bookstalls. What impressed me most about ōyabu's books was his description of women's desire to be conquered. That was far superior to the later works by authors like Xia Fei and Xia Fei, who wrote long strings of onomatopoeia and ellipses and exclamation marks.

I remember a scene in one book where a detective, his wife, and a scientist were stranded in a cave. The scientist was terrified and said he needed the detective's wife's breasts to calm down. The wife looked at her husband for his opinion, and the detective nodded in agreement. So the wife unbuttoned her clothes, opened her garment, and the scientist took her breast into his mouth, then reached in with his other hand to touch her other breast. The scientist calmed down, while the wife let out a low moan. Although the scene wasn't actually about Yin Qi, but rather a scientist seeking security like an infant, the strange feeling of a detective husband watching his wife's breasts being sucked and caressed by another man stirred something within me. Perhaps it was this kind of literary enlightenment that planted the seed of my Yin Qi obsession.

Back then, this kind of book was passed around among a few close classmates. I had a friend, a thin boy, who was particularly fond of a girl in our class named Yuan Yuan. Once, during a casual chat, we somehow started talking about girls, and he said he thought of something bizarre: Yuan Yuan had been kidnapped by a group of robbers, stripped naked, and raped. Then he chuckled. At the time, I couldn't understand why someone who liked Yuan Yuan so much would imagine such a filthy scene. Yes, rape—he particularly liked using such inverted words. Years later, most of those childhood memories are hazy, but I still vaguely remember that word and that laugh.

Some say that the more you understand human nature, the more you hate most people, because deep down, human nature is too ugly and too dark. Human nature and morality seem to be contradictory in many ways. It's not easy for a person to confront themselves; when faced with their own desires, they often experience the torment and struggle of judging right and wrong. On one side is morality, on the other, human desire—which should be preserved, and which should be extinguished? Zhu Xi, the master of Neo-Confucianism, said, "Preserve heavenly principles, extinguish human desires." However, unofficial historical records indicate that Zhu Xi himself practiced concubinage and incest. When Zhu Xi, once an imperial tutor, was questioned by Emperor Ningzong of Song, he simply said, "Deeply reflect on yesterday's mistakes, carefully seek today's truths ." What were yesterday's mistakes, and what are today's truths?

Yesterday's days cannot be retained, today's days are full of worries. Looking back at yesterday's events from today's perspective, we consider them wrong. And what we consider right today may be wrong in the future. Sometimes, to avoid making mistakes, we do nothing. But doing nothing may be the biggest mistake.

When I first started dating my wife, I didn't have such a strong romantic feeling—in fact, I didn't at all. Looking back, some things from that time, if done today, would probably be something I'd desperately want, but back then I felt like a child whose favorite toy had been snatched away, furious.

In the beginning, my wife and her close friends were learning Latin dance. I offered to pick them up and drop them off, and one of her best friends said, "Come if you can handle it." All the students in their class were female, and the teacher was a man, supposedly very handsome. My wife's best friend said the teacher really enjoyed practicing with my wife. You can imagine the scenes from Latin dance; it's supposedly based on the movements of lovers going through intercourse. Hearing this back then annoyed me; I felt insulted. Ironically, until my wife finished her Latin dance lessons, I never went to see her or pick her up once. Another

thing was that one of my good friends from Northeast China was dating my wife's best friend. My friend told me that according to her, my wife had a boyfriend before, a foreigner who was older, so he thought my wife's past was quite complicated.

I had never met my wife's foreign boyfriend. Later, when I was talking to my wife about my ex-boyfriend, she mentioned that he was an American tutor, not very tall but very strong, and had fought in the Gulf War—though that was probably an exaggeration. He said he'd said many sweet things to my wife, like taking her on world tours, promising to love her forever, and taking her to America.

I asked my wife, "So, how far did things go with him?" She said, "Not much. We just ate out, went shopping, held hands, and kissed once. That time, we were shopping when it suddenly started raining heavily, and we got soaked, so we went to his place to shower." My wife said that after showering, she wrapped herself in a towel and fell asleep on the sofa. Later, he came in after showering, kissed her forehead, and woke her up. I asked, "What happened next?" My wife said angrily, "What do you expect? Nothing happened. The clothes dried, the rain stopped, and she got dressed and left."

My wife isn't considered a beauty by Chinese standards, but because she's practiced dance since childhood, she has a great figure. Although not tall, she has a large bust, a slim waist, and a shapely bottom. I once thought, a white-bearded, gray-haired foreigner, like an elderly Connery, came out of the shower shirtless. He saw a petite, sexy Eastern woman, wrapped in a towel, and fell asleep on the sofa. Was it just a simple kiss on the forehead?

I once pressed my wife, "When you came out of the shower, you weren't wearing anything underneath, were you?" My wife said, "Everything was wet, how could I wear anything? I put my clothes in the foreigner's washing machine to dry." I said, "What about your underwear? Were they wet too?" My wife scolded me for being crazy. Perhaps Westerners are indeed that gentlemanly, or perhaps that foreigner was impotent, or maybe gay, and had no sexual interest in women. In any case, this story remains a mystery.

Another ex was my wife's college classmate. This is what my wife herself told me; she said that boy was more handsome and taller than me. I asked, "Did you kiss?" My wife said, "Of course." I asked, "Did you touch his butt?" My wife laughed and said, "Of course." I then asked, "Did you touch his breasts or kiss them?" My wife said, "What kind of husband asks his wife that?" So, it became another unsolved mystery. My wife said that the boy later cheated on her and found a new girlfriend, so they broke up.

The only man I met who seemed to have a somewhat ambiguous relationship with my wife was her high school classmate, P. At that time, my wife and I were already in a relationship. Before P got married, he held a banquet for his high school classmates. I went as a family member. The hotel was very unique; each table was separated by several wide strips of red gauze hanging from the ceiling, making each table like a private room, perfect for a wedding banquet atmosphere. During

the banquet, P, who was about to become a groom, drank a lot of alcohol. My wife sat next to P, and P's fiancée, a fair-skinned, chubby Sichuan girl with a big face, sat on his other side. After a while, P's fiancée went to the restroom, and the classmates, fueled by alcohol, started chatting nonsense. A male classmate, who seemed a bit drunk, said to my wife, "See? You didn't seize the opportunity, now P is marrying someone else." He was completely ignoring me. My wife laughed and said, "What? I'm taken now!" P, still half-asleep, said, "What do you mean, taken? Remember, I'll always be your mentor, your master. If you don't behave, see how I deal with you." As he spoke, P clenched one fist and squeezed the other hand a few times, like a boxer loosening his joints.

I was furious; my face must have been incredibly ugly. But considering it was their wedding banquet, I didn't lash out. The other classmates teased, "What kind of mentor are you?" P said, "All-around." My wife laughed and said, "You call yourself a mentor? Just mentor your own wife!" P said, "Looks like you've forgotten how I messed with you, haven't you?" He then reached out and grabbed my wife by the back of the neck. I was so angry I pried his hand away. Just then, P's fiancée returned, and this ridiculous farce came to an abrupt end.

Back then, I was young and impetuous, and I felt a sense of ownership over my wife, not wanting any other man to touch her. Looking back now, it was such a great opportunity. Later, some other classmates, sensing the awkward atmosphere, changed the subject. I pulled my wife aside, saying it was getting late, and we left. I only remember P's flushed face, his drunken eyes, and him repeatedly saying, "Just wait and see how I get you, I'm your master."

Later, I met P a few more times. Once was in Shenzhen. My wife and I had just returned from a trip to Hong Kong and passed through Shenzhen. P and his wife picked us up and we had dinner together. What I remember most vividly is P talking about taking the subway to Hong Kong Park to play cards. Later, P's father passed away, and I happened to be accompanying my wife to visit her parents. I met him again then, and we gave him a white envelope with 1001 yuan, but he resolutely refused to accept it. P has never had children since his marriage. My mother-in-law once told me that P is quite nice, and he's a local. The implication was that she still felt a little regretful that I took her daughter away; if my wife had married P, she wouldn't have been so far away from her parents.

Regarding P's relationship with my wife, it was my friend from Northeast China who told me. My wife's best friend revealed that when my wife was about to graduate and doing her internship, she had a rather ambiguous relationship with her boss. That boss was married and treated her very well. To what extent? In today's terms, "you know what I mean." In short, one outcome was that P, who had always liked his wife, thought he had a chance after she broke up with her boyfriend. However, after discovering her close relationship with that boss, he angrily left the city and went south to Shenzhen.

Whether this actually happened, I have no way of verifying. His wife admitted that the boss was indeed very good to her and cared for her a lot, but only like an older brother. Later, his wife left that company and went to work at a foreign language training institution, where she met foreigners. Her only interaction with that boss was when the stock market was booming one year; he told her about two stocks. As stock market novices, we made a profit initially but then lost money, and after that, we had no further contact.

Many years have passed since then, and looking back, it has a unique flavor. "Young and naive, I don't know the joy of success," but now I long for those days to return. Life is mostly like this; after the vibrant years of youth, in middle age, we just repeat the same routine day after day. Some say, "If you don't go crazy now, you'll be too old." But perhaps most people grow old without ever having gone crazy. Maybe we are one of them.

Who knows? Just like this article, it was written on a whim. There may be a 1, but not necessarily a 2. Perhaps the first chapter will be the final chapter.

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The Tragedy of a Married Woman 1

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