Leave Me Alone by Murong Xuecun Page B

brother-in-law had gone to town, putting the story on the front page under the headline:
Immoral Couple Apprehended, Huge Commotion.
I read the colourful article right through. It said that once Fatty Dong realised there was something wrong he’d leapt from the second-floor window in a vain attempt to get away and was seized at once by cops waiting in ambush. Below the article was a 600-word editorial written by my brother-in-law with the headline
A Technical Analysis of Whoring.
It said:
Given the current policy of cracking down on prostitution those who won’t give it up had better practise kung fu. Otherwise it will be hard for them to avoid capture.
    I was esctatic that Fatty Dong’s day of reckoning had come. But when I went back to the emergency room and saw my mother crying, my pain returned.
    My mother had given birth to two sons but my elder brother died of pulmonary tuberculosis at the age of three. When I arrived she was afraid that I would fail to reach manhood too. Her solution was to give me a childhood name that wouldn’t attract fate’s attention: Baby Rabbit. She also fed me every kind of pill. I reckoned that if my stomach had had the ability to store them, by now I’d have more than enough to open a drug store. My fourth grade primary school teachers were rather alarmed by an essay I wrote entitled ‘A Small Matter’ which related an incident in which my mother gave me an injection in my butt without even knowing what was wrong with me.
    Zhao Yue was comforting my mother in a soft voice while holding my hand. Warmth passed from her smooth, warm skin into my hand, and from there to my heart.
    A pretty nurse approached and asked whether we were Chen Zhenyuan’s family. Standing up nervously, I asked how my father was. She smiled and said, ‘Don’t worry, there’s nothing seriously wrong with your father. You can go and complete the hospital registration process.’
    I was overjoyed and couldn’t help telling my mother: I knew the old man would be okay. It was just you making a big fuss.
    The old lady slowly smiled, as if she was just waking from a dream.

    There was a problem: I wasn’t carrying enough cash. I’d set out with 1,200 yuan on me, and after the taxi, registration and emergency treatment fees we were 500 yuan short. Zhao Yue searched her pockets but only found 300, and so I called Li Liang on his mobile.
    ‘If I may disturb the groom for a moment, I’d like to borrow some money from you,’ I told him.
    A while later Li Liang arrived, appearing slightly breathless and carrying all manner of health food packages for my dad. When we’d completed the hospital registration formalities, Li Liang and I went outside for a smoke. Fixing me with a serious look, he said he’d like to apologise on Ye Mei’s behalf for the wine-throwing episode at the wedding yesterday.
    ‘You soft bastard, there’s no need to say that,’ I replied. ‘We’re friends, aren’t we?’
    Deep down though, I was afraid that what had happenedbetween Ye Mei and myself would be impossible to keep hidden from him. I felt ashamed.
    At university, our chauvinistic dormitory gang frequently discussed one question: what would we do if we discovered after marriage that our wives weren’t virgins?
    Bighead Wang was the most militant. He maintained that second-hand goods were only fit to be used once; after that they should be thrown out. But I was sceptical because at the time of their marriage Wang’s wife, whose name was Zhang Lan Lan, had well-developed breasts and an air of sexual experience. Bighead had always kept quiet on the subject.
    For his part, Li Liang said he didn’t care about a woman’s hymen. Even if she comes from a whorehouse I can accept her.
    They asked me for my opinion and unexpectedly it seemed they had touched a nerve. ‘You farts, let me sleep,’ I said and snapped off the light. Lying under the sheets I felt wronged, as I thought about Zhao Yue’s background and suspected I’d