Free Serve the People! by Yan Lianke, Julia Lovell Page B

prompting a reluctant, regretful farewell as he continued on his way. When his lips explored her own, the tears streamed-with a kind of joyful sorrow--from her eyes to pool in dark circles on the green sheet and thick red velvet pillow. When, however, his tongue at last insinuated its way between her legs, her hands fell-as lifelessly as two pieces of rope from his head onto the bed, and her cries died away into an abrupt silence.

    He immediately stopped everything he was doing.
    He looked up to discover she'd taken on a deathly, waxen pallor.
    She had, he could see, fainted-from excitement.
    The room had fallen as quiet as the grave. He circled around and around her, shaking her, calling out to her, his sweat dripping onto her naked body and the rumpled bed. A few seconds later, however, he came round from his panic and recovered some sense of calm. Recalling his basic first aid training, he pulled on his underpants, opened the window and door, laid a towel out in the doorway, picked Liu Lian up and placed her down on it. And there she lay, peacefully, like a large white fish.

    The breeze blew in through the window, bringing a welcome coolness. A large cloud had passed in front of the sun, shading the Division Commander's compound like a parasol. As Liu Lian maintained her silent prostration, Wu Dawang kept an equally silent watch over her. A few times he considered pinching her, or giving her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but always chose to stay where he was instead: unmoving, by her side. Gloomy thoughts of home forced their way into his mind: of his wife Zhao Ezi writing about the harvest, about tying their son to that tree, about the child almost choking to death on a locust. These thoughts triggered in him a peasant's violent, covetous hatred of the easy, sophisticated city life and its glorious free love that could never be his. He stared at Liu Lian, a dreadful hope taking hold of him. How marvellous it would be, he thought, if she really did die. The moment he'd thought it, this idea somehow took root in his head and grew into a powerful impulse to place his hands on that long, smooth, slender white neck of hers.

    Fortunately, at that very moment, she woke up.
    Tilting her head to one side, she took in her surroundings, including Wu Dawang. She then pulled herself weakly up into a sitting position. `It's been worth it,' she said, `it's all been worth it. I can die happy now.'
    He shivered to hear her talk of dying, as if she had seen right through him, and into the terrible, ridiculous idea that had just seized him. Nervous that his murderous instincts had in some way betrayed themselves, he leaned over attentively and took her hand. `How do you feel?' he asked her. `You scared me half to death. You fainted, it was all my fault.'
    She looked gratefully at him, tears wetting the corners of her eyes, and stroked his face. `Would you bring me my clothes?' she asked. He picked them up from the table and helped her get dressed, the two of them still sitting on the towel, talking away, holding each other's hands.
    `I wish you were my husband,' she said.

    `You're the Division Commander's wife,' he reminded her. `You're the envy of every woman in China.'
    `That may be.' After a brief, slanting glance away, she looked straight back at him. A blush returned to her cheeks. `Do you know why the Commander's first wife divorced him?'
    He answered her only with an expression of surprise.
    `He's impotent.'
    He continued to stare at her in silent, mounting amazement.
    But she had nothing more to say. After heaving a long, pained sigh-a sigh that hinted at an unutterable sadness -she changed the subject, as if the mere act of breathing out had dispelled her sorrow in a single puff. `You want to be an official, don't you?' she asked after a brief pause.
    `Yes, like every other soldier in the army.'
    'Why? And don't tell me it's because you want to Serve the People or anything like that. I want to know the real reason.'
    He