The Seventh Day by Yu Hua Read Free Book Online

had to flatter them with a smile and down shots in their honor, then go to the bathroom to throw up, after which she continued to toast them. That she dated the sons of city officials was all just rumor—she had only met three such young men, introduced to her by the boss, and each of them displayed his own version of the playboy style: the first was full of himself, the second spent all his time ogling her, while the third started feeling her up the first chance he got. When she resisted, smiling apologetically, he said, “Don’t give me that act.” Her parents lived in another province, and after such humiliations she would call them up in a tearful mood, but then force herself to be cheerful, telling them that everything was fine and not to worry.
    Her story made me feel sad. I took her face in my hands and kissed her eyes, tickling her until she smiled. She said she had noticed me from early on and realized that I was a hard worker, observing too that when an office slacker claimed credit for my achievements, I never made an issue of this. I told her there were times when I was really angry and wanted to give him a piece of my mind, but I found I just couldn’t get the words out.
    “Sometimes I hate how weak I am,” I told her.
    “You won’t get tough with me, will you?” she said, caressing my face affectionately.
    “Certainly not,” I said.
    When the other young men in the company pursued her in their various fashions, she told me, I seemed to remain completely cold. That’s what got her curious and that’s why she came over to ask questions and study my reaction; she found that I gave her a simple, friendly glance quite different from the way her other male coworkers looked at her. Later, that incident of the suitor declaring his love on his knees left her with a positive impression, for she quietly observed how amid the laughter I collected the man’s possessions and delivered them to him. She paused for a moment, and then said that the more favor she enjoyed in the business world, the more lonesome she felt when she returned at night to her rented room—that was when she really wanted to be with someone she loved. When we happened to meet in the elevator and my eyes got wet, she suddenly felt the warmth of another person’s concern, and in the days that followed she became more and more convinced that I was the right man for her.
    Then she pinched my nose. “Why didn’t
you
pursue me?”
    “I just lack ambition,” I said.
    We married a year later. My father’s dorm unit was too small to accommodate all three of us, so we rented a one-bedroom apartment as our new home. My father was overjoyed that I was marrying such an able and attractive wife. And Li Qing was good to him: on weekends, when he stayed overnight with us, we would both go meet him, and after we all crowded onto the bus she could always somehow find him a seat. This reminded me of the first time I saw her, and I would smile at the thought. During Spring Festival we took the train to see her parents, who worked at a state-owned factory. Kind and down-to-earth, they were happy that their daughter had married a solid, dependable man.
    Our married life was calm and happy. She continued to escort the boss to business dinners, however. After dark I would wait at home alone and often she would get back very late and very tired. I would smell alcohol on her breath when I hugged her, and she would rest her head on my chest for a bit before we went to bed. She hated these boisterous banquets but found it impossible to decline such invitations, for by this time she was the deputy head of public relations. She didn’t care for this position, which in her words amounted pretty much to “deputy head of swigging and swilling.” “Beauty is a woman’s travel permit,” she once said to me. But she was using the permit for the company’s benefit, never for herself.
    After a couple of years we began planning the purchase of an apartment of our