Chapter 3 lover(3)

third quarter The image was formed before he chatted with the white girl on the rail of the ferry, and she sensed it when he stepped out of the black Limosine, when he approached her I knew he was scared. From that first instant she knew what was going on, she knew that he was at her mercy.Even if it's not him, or another man, when love comes, he will also be at her mercy.She also knew that on the other side of the matter, from now on, the moment of her involuntary may have come, and she would not be able to escape some of her obligations.She also knew that day that her mother or brother must not be aware of this kind of thing.As soon as she got into the black Limosin, she was fully aware that this was the first time in her life and the beginning of a lifelong separation from her family.From now on, the family should never ask about what might happen to her.Just let people take her from them, hurt her, spoil her, all of which they should never know again.Neither mother nor brother should know.Henceforth, this will be their fate.These thoughts were enough to make her weep in the black Limosin.

From then on, the little girl will start to deal with this man, this is the first one, the man who appeared on the ferry. Things happened quickly on Thursday.He picked her up from middle school every day and sent her to boarding school.Then once, on a Thursday afternoon, he had come to the boarding school to take her to the black car. This is on the embankment.This is in stark contrast to the boulevards that link Chinatown to downtown Saigon.On these American-style wide roads, trams, rickshaws, and buses shuttle back and forth, which is very lively.It was late afternoon, and it was still early.She escaped the mandatory afternoon walks of the girls at her boarding school.

This is a one-room house on the south side of the city.The house was modern, and the furniture was modern, though it seemed to have been put together hastily.He said: I did not choose the furniture carefully.The room was rather dimly lit, but she didn't tell him to open the blinds.She was not aware of a definite feeling, neither reluctance nor resentment, which perhaps meant some kind of desire.When he had asked her to come here the night before, she had said yes immediately.She's finally here where she's supposed to be.She seemed a little scared.For it seemed that things had to fit not only with what she expected, but also with her own particular circumstances.She paid attention to the environment at that time, the light, the noise of the city, because the whole room was surrounded by these noises.And he, he was trembling there.First he looked at her, as if waiting for her to speak.But she said nothing.So he stopped moving.He didn't take off her clothes, he just told her that he loved her like crazy, and his voice was very low when he spoke.Then he fell silent.She didn't answer his words.She could have told him she didn't love him, but she said nothing.And suddenly she realized that he didn't know her, and never would, because he was too unsophisticated, and didn't know how to go around so many circles to catch her, which he would never be able to do.Only she can understand all this.Only she understood in her heart.Although she had never known him before and knew nothing about him, she suddenly realized that she had already had a crush on him on the ferry.She liked him, it was up to her alone.

She said to him: It's better that you don't love me.Even if you like me, I want you to be as casual as you are with other women.He looked at her very strangely.He asked: Is this what you hope for?she said yes.He was starting to feel bad, for the first time in this room, and he was not going to lie about it anymore.He told her that he already knew she would never love him.At first she said she didn't know.Then she let him go on. He said he was lonely, and because he loved her, this loneliness was all the more cruel to him.She told him that she, too, felt lonely.She didn't say why.He said: You have followed me to this place, and if it were any other man, you would probably follow him just as well.She replied that she had no way of knowing because she had never been in a room with any man.She told him that she didn't want him to talk to her all the time, she wanted him to be like when he was alone in his room with other women.She begged him to treat her like this.

He took off her dress, followed by her little calico briefs, and carried her naked to the bed.He turned his back on her and began to cry.Then she gently pulled him towards him and began to undress him.She closed her eyes and slowly took off for him.He wanted to help her, but she refused, she wanted to do it by herself.She said she would like to do it herself.Finally, his clothes were stripped off.When she asked for him, he leaned in slightly, as if to not disturb her. That skin gives a special soft feeling.His body was thin and tall, without strength, without muscles, he might have been ill, he might be recovering, he had no beard, he was not manly, he was weak, he seemed to be suffering from the torture of some insult pain.She didn't look at him, just stroked him.He's moaning, he's crying.He was suffering the torment of his hateful love.He almost cried and had fun with her... She felt as if she was slowly being lifted up, riding on the clouds, and taken to a blissful world... The sea, which has no shape, only because it is incomparable.

Perhaps as early as on the ferry, this image had already had a premonition of the scene at this moment. Once I suddenly felt the image of the woman in the patch stockings flashing in the lover's room.I seem to have been present in this occasion as her daughter, in fact, the sons already know about the romance of the mother when she was young.And my daughter didn't know it at the time.They would never talk together about what they knew, and what alienated them from her was a crucial, final affair of Mom's youth.Mom doesn't know what enjoyment is. I really didn't know it was going to bleed.He asked me if it hurt, I said no, he said he was so happy.

He wiped the blood and washed me clean.I look at him.When he walked over calmly, there was a strong desire again. I don't know how I could have the courage to go against my mother's taboo, and so willingly, so resolutely.I really don't understand how I ended up in the "one alley to the end" situation. Our eyes met.He put his arms around me.He asked me why I came here.I said it was my duty, as if it were an obligation.This is the first time we've talked.I told him about the life of my two brothers.I also said we had no money.nothing.He knows my big brother.He had seen him once in the smoke den in town.I said that my elder brother stole everything from my mother to smoke opium, and he even stole money from the servants, and sometimes the owner of the opium shop would come to collect debts from my mother.I also told him about those sea walls.I said my mom was dying and she couldn't last long.I also said that my mother's imminent death must have something to do with what happened to me today.

I found out that I like him. He pitied me, and I said no, I wasn't pitiful, and nobody was pitiful except my mother.He said to me: The reason why you came is because I have money.I said I like him and I like his money, and when I met him, he was already in the car, already in the money, so there was no way I would know, if he wasn't a rich man , how should I treat him.He said: I really want to take you away and fly away with you.I said that before my mother was tortured to death, I could not leave her.He said that it seems that he definitely does not have this blessing, but he will still give me money and tell me not to worry.He lay down again.We fell silent again.

The noise in the city was terrible.As far as I can remember, it was like a movie with the sound overblown and deafening.I remember very clearly that the room was very dark at that time, we were silent, and the whole room was surrounded by the endless noise of the city, as if it were a train going into the city.The windows had no glass, just curtains and shutters.Through the curtains you can see figures walking down the sidewalk in the sunlight.There are always crowds of people here all day long.The shadows on the curtains were drawn in regular stripes by the blades of the shutters.The rattling of those wooden clogs is dizzying, the voices of the people are shrill, and Chinese is a language of shouting, as I always imagined, a language of the desert. An incredibly strange language.It was evening outside, for it could be discerned from the noise outside and the growing noise of passers-by.This is a city used to boiling at night.At this moment, the sun has set and night has fallen.

This slatted shutter and this cotton curtain separate the bed from the city.There is no solid substance that separates us from other human beings.They, they don't know we exist.And we, we can perceive something of them, hear all their voices, see something of them, like the hoarse, melancholy, echoless cry of a siren. The smell of caramel carried into the house, and there was also the smell of roasted peanuts, Cantonese gruel, roast meat, herbs, jasmine, dust, incense, charcoal fire, and the like.Here, charcoal fires can be shipped around in baskets and peddled along the streets.The taste of the city is also the taste of the country, the taste of the forest.

I suddenly saw him in the dark bathroom.He was sitting with a glass of whiskey in his hand, smoking a cigarette. He said I just fell asleep and he took a shower.Actually, I just felt a little sleepy.He lit a lamp on a low table. This is a veteran in the field of romance, I suddenly thought of him, he should come to this room often, he must have lived many lives, this is a cowardly man, in order to eliminate Inner panic, he had no choice but to indulge in lust.I said to him that I thought he must have many women, and it would be best if I was one of them.We look at each other.He understood what I just said.Suddenly his eyes changed and became very false, as if bound by a kind of pain, death. I told him to come, told him he must come to me.he came.He smelled of English cigarettes, and the smell of fine perfume and honey, and his skin smelled of mulberry and pressed silk and gold, so he was really touching.I expressed my lust for him to him.He didn't move.He talked to me, he said he knew from the day he crossed the river, that I was going to be like this after my first lover, that I was going to be passionate about lust, and he said he already knew I I shall deceive him, as I shall deceive all the men who follow me.He said that as for him, he has long been synonymous with misfortune.I was so happy to hear all these things he confided in me, and to tell him how I felt.He suddenly became rude, he was extremely emotional, he threw himself on me, sucking on my girlish breast, he shouted and cursed.I closed my eyes and endured the excessively strong movement.I thought: He's so sophisticated, this is his routine, his life is sex, that's all.His hands were skilled, miraculous, perfect.Luckily for me, it was obvious that this was his vocation, and he knew instinctively what to do and what to say.He took me for a whore, a broken shoe, and he told me I was his only love, and of course that's what he should have said, because when you let him talk and do what he wants, when you can't help and let him When he fiddles with it casually and does all kinds of obscene things, he will feel that everything is the essence, there is no dross, and all the dross are covered up, and driven by the lust, they all rush into the torrent and flow away. The noise of the city was so near that they could be heard scraping against the wooden slats of the shutters.Hearing this sound, it seemed that they were about to enter the room.In the midst of the noise, the hustle and bustle of the crowd, here I am, touching his body.The sea, the boundless sea gathered together, sometimes goes away and sometimes returns. .... He lit a cigarette and handed it to me.Then, he leaned against my mouth and spoke to me softly. I also whispered to him. Since he was not in the habit of flattering himself, I flattered him; and since he was unaware of a superior elegance in him, I spoke frankly to him. Night has fallen at this moment.He said I will remember this afternoon forever, even when I forget his face, his name.I asked him if he could recall the room.He said to me: Then take a good look at it.I took a look.I said the house was ordinary, like everywhere else.He said yes, that's right, houses are like this everywhere? Today I saw his face again, and I remembered his name again.I also saw the whitewashed wall, the muslin curtain facing the stove, the other arched door leading into another room, and leading to an open garden—all planted by the heat. And dead—surrounded by blue railing walls, just like the big villa with balconies facing the Mekong River in Sa Decak. It's a distressed, broken place.He asked what I was thinking.I said I missed my mother, if she knew the truth, she would have killed me.I see he's trying to think of a word, and then he says he understands what Mama's going to say, and he learns to say: Do such a vile thing!He said he couldn't accept that if we could get married.I look at him and he looks at me.He proudly defended himself.He said: I am a Chinese.We smiled at each other.I asked him if he was used to the sadness we had now.He said it was because we had sex during the day, at the highest temperature of the day.He said it was always hard after something happened.He smiled, and said: No matter whether we have feelings for each other or not, it is always very hard after the incident.He said that this kind of discomfort would pass at night, and he would feel better at night.I told him it wasn't just because in the daytime, I said he was mistaken, I meant that I was in the midst of a melancholy that I was expecting, and that melancholy came purely from myself.I say that I have always been a melancholy person, and that even this melancholy of mine is recognizable as the former melancholy, and since this melancholy becomes so one with me, I can almost give it an identity with myself. same name.But today, I told him, this melancholy turned out to be a blessing, like the bad luck my mother used to say to me whenever she yelled out in the emptiness of her life.I said to him: I don't quite understand what my mother means, but I know this room is exactly what I was looking forward to.I spoke in one breath, not expecting anything from him.I said my mother had yelled at what she thought were messengers from God.She shouted that never wait for anything, no matter who it is, or which regime, no matter what God, don't expect anything from them.He listened to me, kept his eyes on me, looked at my mouth whenever I spoke, I was naked, he touched me, maybe he didn't listen to me at all.I said that I was not unhappy with my personal situation.I told him that our family only relied on my mother's salary, and our life was very difficult, even eating and dressing were problems.The more I said it, the sadder it became.He said: How did you get here?I told him that we were often outside, because of poverty, even our family was torn apart, we often wandered outside, and anyone could do whatever he wanted.Our whole family is a bunch of rascals.That's why I'm following him here.He bends over me.We just stayed there.Moaning amidst the din of the city outside.At first we could hear noises outside, but then we couldn't hear anything at all? One of his kisses on me made me weep.It seems that kissing can comfort people.I never cry at home.But one day, in this room, tears comforted both the past and the future.I told him that sooner or later I would be separated from my mother, and sooner or later I would lose his love.I cry.He put his head on me, and when he saw me cry, he began to cry too.I told him that during my childhood my mother's misfortune had been the subject of my dreams.As long as I dream of being a mother, I have never dreamed of a Christmas tree.Sometimes I dreamed that she was suffering and skinned alive, sometimes I dreamed that she was talking to herself in the desert, she might be looking for food, and she was talking about herself endlessly——Marie-LeGrand Droubaix Si—what happened to her, she told of her innocence, her simplicity, and her hope. Through the shutters I could see that night was falling.The noise rose again, louder and harsher.The reddish street lights came on. We come out of the house.I put back on the man's hat with the black ribbon, the gold shoes, the crimson lipstick, and the silk dress.I am old.I suddenly realized this.He saw it, so he said you were tired.