Free Leave Me Alone by Murong Xuecun Page A

show of being sweet. She clung to me and called me ‘hubbie’. This made me mad.
    ‘Who do you think you are?’ I snapped.
    She stared at me. ‘Cheap tart,’ I said, and went out the door. Behind my back I heard her shouting after me, something like, ‘Fuck your mother.’
    I turned on my mobile to check the time: midnight already. The street was full of cars because this was when many Chengdu men, having stuffed themselves with food and drink, came out to work off some excess energy. How many tales of cruel youth had unfolded on this uneven street amid the colourful lights and the music, the powder and the condoms? I sighed and suddenly felt hungry, remembering that I’d hardly eaten anything at the wedding dinner. Because Ye Mei threw the wine over me, I hadn’t even had a single mouthful of the specially cooked hairy crab.
    Zhao Yue called yet again and this time, after a moment’s hesitation, I took the call. When she asked me what I was up to, I adopted my usual strategy to confuse her with truth and told her I was out whoring.
    ‘I know you’ve got some misunderstandings about me,’ she said. ‘Come back and we’ll talk about it.’
    ‘I haven’t come yet,’ I told her, ‘so you’ll just have to wait.’
    She called me shameless and hung up.
    I felt good again as thinking about Zhao Yue’s angry facegave me a happy glow. Going into one of the several small restaurants along the street, I ordered two bottles of beer, some cold dishes and a portion of twice-cooked pork. I ate with great relish, until it suddenly occurred to me that Li Liang might be doing it with Ye Mei.
    The thought of Li Liang made me feel guilty again. Holding up my glass, I addressed the distant fading lights of Chengdu: ‘Li Liang, my brother, please forgive me. Had I known Ye Mei was your woman, I wouldn’t have done her to save my life.’

    The hole-in-the-wall restaurant was unhygienic; while I was eating the meat dish I found a long hair. Feeling disgusted, I turned around to expectorate. As I did, I noticed a dark-green Honda Accord slowly driving along the street. Fatty Dong was at the wheel, his fat neck twitching as he inspected the merchandise. Quickly draining my glass, I went outside to the street and watched him cruising the venues one by one. Finally he stopped outside a karaoke bar called Red Moon.
    Fatty Dong had the face of a government official: fat, round cheeks and large ears but somehow dignified. In contrast, his wife was frighteningly ugly. Once I’d seen them on the street together; his wife stalked along in front with a cigarette in her mouth; Fatty Dong followed her like a pet pig, a servile gait, an expression of reverence on his face. On the eighth of March last year, International Women’s Day, Fatty Dong had turned up two hours late with bruises andcuts on his face and neck, bleary-eyed: I guessed his wife must have caught him cheating.
    Finding Fatty Dong’s home number in my address book, I hit the dial button with a big grin.
    His wife’s dour voice answered, ‘Who is it?’
    Just as I was about to reply, more inspiration struck. I ended the call immediately, ran to the public phone and pressed three digits: 110.
    The duty cop sounded cutely concerned as she asked me what was wrong. In a low whisper, I told her I suspected someone was dealing drugs. Recently the cops had generated loads of publicity for their campaign against drug crime, and it was said that a drug squad hero from Xichang had just been transferred here to supervise their operation. In fact, only the week before, a high school mate of Li Liang’s who’d opened a spicy soup restaurant, was caught buying 250 jin of poppy shells at Lianhua Pond market. Li Liang had wanted to stand bail for him but Bighead advised him against it. ‘Whatever you do, don’t get involved,’ he’d said. ‘Drugs are the hottest crime right now, and whoever gets messed up with them will fry.’
    As soon as she heard the word ‘drugs’ the cop