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英文父亲琴15

九哥 (发表日期:2010-05-05 18:21:53 阅读人次:2001 回复数:5)

  15, THE FOURTH STAGE OF MY VIOLIN STUDIES

  
Farewell Nini for Shanghai

  
The evening before my departure for Shanghai, I went to Li’s home to show my gratitude to his wife Aunt Yu, but found they were both absent for a vacation. Sorry, a slip of the tongue. They were not on “vacation” but a “business errand”. (In the communist period, it was common practice for officials taking private “vacation” or “combi” by the name of “business errand” so that all the costs could be reimbursed) Therefore Nini was the only one home.

  
Seeing me walking away Nini asked, “Wouldn’t you sit with me for a while if I invite you to?”

  
“Even if you invite me to lie down with you for a while I would love to.”

  
By the time I was finally evolved to be able to relax and being humorous a little in front of her.

  
“You, ah!” Nini looked a little offended and shy, pretended to shut the door between us. When she saw I got my foot in the door she uttered, “No wonder that mom always says artists are flirtatious and never expect them to be faithful.”

  
“Your mother, as an fully experienced artist, is absolutely right about it. Hey, hey hey.” By saying that I was already in her room and sat by the edge on her bed. (It was normal for Chinese to receive guests in their bedrooms as we all had only one room and one room only.)

  
Nini’s face flushed like a peach. She sat a meter away beside me, asked me timidly, “Have you thought it all over, that you really want me?” She was moving toward a little by little as she said that.

  
By then I realized that she took my light words for real, I started to fear the consequence, “I, I, this is a rather serious matter that I’ll have to ask your mother before I make my final decision.”

  
Heard that Nini’s mood changed suddenly. She stood up and spitted out those words with disappointment, “Asking my mother first! I had my ears full of that. I thought you are different.” She paused, and sat on the bed again, and went on, “I’m not my mother’s thing, why dose everybody want to ask my mother. Sometimes I really think of lying on the street, whoever dare to take me whoever can have me.”

  
I found such words from Nini’s mouth extremely seducing and encouraging. I wonder what kind action you would take if you were in my place, for me it was too much to endure. I embraced her, “You no need to lie on the street, on your bed would be better than good.” With certain gentleness I took off her clothes hastily. She subconsciously resisted a little, but when the 3 woman’s parts exposed she gave up resistance immediately.

  
Who said that? “Woman, is like a book wrapped up with a thin plastic sheet, once you broke that layer of sheet, the pages would for you please to turn.”

  
Nini appeared in front of me, naked, completely. Her flesh was white, elastic, delicate and juicy. I appreciated her beauty as much as I could by turning her over and over. Even today, I could still clearly remember her body, particularly that girl’s part, pink colored, poked aside like a flower petal. Saying “looking gorgeous” would be inadequate. It was simply one word “beauty”, a beauty that made my whole body stiff but my man’s part soft.

  
The power of women’s glamour is so magic and varies, some makes man excited and rush forward like a mortar, while some makes man nervous and withdraw one’s part inside like a tortoise.

  
How could I expose my “softness” in front of a woman, especially when the woman is Nini. Hence, I even didn’ dare to pull my pants down. All I could do was to make myself an excuse, “Some people may think my pants are always loose, only myself know whenever it comes to a crucial moment, I’m actually quite serious, decent and traditional.” I picked up her clothes to cover her breasts that I had already enjoyed well enough, and said, “I think, perhaps, we should wait, until we know each other better.”

  
Nini was obviously very pleased with my lie. She embraced me with passion and said, “Now, I feel I trust you much better.”

  
The regret with Nini was left there, unfortunately forever.

  
The next early morning Meimei came to my dormitory and declared that she was on behalf of my whole family to see me off at the station. That again, sounded odd as how could she be on behalf of my family when she was by no mean of a member of my family. However, it would always be better than no body see me off at the station, at least she could help me with some of my luggage.

  
After waved good-bye to Meimei at the station, I hurried up to the compartment fighting for space for my luggage on the baggage rack. As soon I swept my sweat and sat down by the window I saw Nini running into the station in great nasty. A station personnel carried something followed her closely. I quickly got off the train. Nini looked relived when she saw me. She took the thing from the station personnel and handed up to me, “I’m not at cooking, but surely better than the meal in the train.”

  
Holding the handmade lunch box I suddenly felt extraordinary touched and wondered whether I should give up my luggage on the train, forget the whole thing about Shanghai, and going back with Nini immediately to live an ordinary life.

  
After the train whistled twice I was still staring at Nini foolishly. If it had not been that station personnel’s push being strong enough I would most probably have missed the train.

  
Now I recall the whole story, that station personnel’s push, is a push of historical importance, because my life experience of next a few decades taught me that, (Note: the following words are very bad)“woman, is somewhat like a local traveler’s guide, wherever I go, there would always be a local guide there show me around and be my company for a certain period of my life. Therefore, be addicted to one guide at one station and stagnate life long journey would not be wise and worthy.”

  


  
My very first days in Shanghai

  
It is not I purposely draw a portrait of myself as a rube, or a country pumpkin in order to make you laugh, it is that I was a country pumpkin when I was placed in a big city like Shanghai. (Now much modernized though)

  
I remember the first time I went to Shanghai I possessed no suitcase, therefore I had to wrap up everything in a bed sheet. That was my main piece. And my yellow army bag, violin and other small items added together resulted about the equal weight of the main piece. Hence I carried the two pieces on my shoulder with a bamboo-carrying pole. But when the train arrived in Shanghai, my treasure-carrying pole was no longer at the place used to be, which must be taken by some comrade who needed it badly. I had to wait for everybody got off the train before I could move my staff piece by piece off the train. Luckily, if not by God’s will, a rope that some countryman dropped solved my problem. I tided my main piece at one end of the rope and the others on the other end. One piece in front and the other on the back on my shoulder and with my back arched, like that look I stepped into Shanghai, one of the biggest and the most luxury cities in the world then and still now.

  
As soon as I got out the station I bumped into two pretty Shanghai young ladies. I did have an excuse that I needed to ask the way, but what more I wanted was to hear Shanghai girl’s creamy coy voice. The voice was heard, yet not at all creamy nor coy, rather a mock with a word “alien”. That voice of snooty caved deep in my heart that I would never forget. It was at that very spot and moment I made up my mind, “One day, I would make Shanghai girls raising their heads admiring me like a bright star in the sky.”

  
Good people are always the majority, even in a city like Shanghai. With help of some good-hearted people I finally found my way to the Shanghai Conservatory of Music.

  
I stayed at the guesthouse of the Conservatory. It was a one-storied house by the side of a football field. It has 8 small rooms. Each room one superposing another folded about 10 gold-plating persons just like me coming from all over the country. I could still aftertaste that part of life, the different smell and taste from each person, the body odor, sweet and feet smell etc that blended together to be the “Big Chinese national harmonious taste symphony”. No wonder Uncle Big Head, the Shanghai guy who was in charge of the guesthouse disliked us as if we were a pile of dog shit.

  
The very first thing I did in Shanghai was visiting teacher Sheng Zhonghua. As soon as I was notified the rate of fees for the lessons (fees would be reimbursed by my orchestra back home) the lesson started. She gave me a lot of homework at the first lesson, and then gave me someone’s phone number asking me to purchase some blueprint reproduction copy music notes from him. (By that time, the majority of violin literature was still not available, and there was no copy machine then)

  
I felt a rapid progress in my violin performance in that period of time, ironically not due to teacher Sheng’s teaching effort, in fact, she was expecting her second husband’s baby that she couldn’t even pull the bow straight on a violin, but due to the outstanding music environment. In Shanghai Conservatory of Music, it gathered the most talented violinists. I could practically learn from anyone I saw, in addition from time to time I received free tutoring from Sheng zhongxiang, the younger brother of my teacher Sheng Zhonghua, known as the king of technique among the fellow students.

  
When I felt great and thought my violin playing ability would leap to the national level, teacher Sheng cut off my lesson due to giving birth. Hence, I found teacher Yu Lina, the one who recorded the only violin Chinese concerto “butterfly Lovers”.

  
Tails up went into teacher Yu’s lesson room, Tails down when I got out. As she treated me like a beginner, a child, asking me to do all the very basic practices, which I did a long time ago and had already forgotten. In addition, she was extremely strict on my playing. She even would count how many times I should do my vibration on each note. I endured the hardship for half year, much harder and bitter than the time I spent with teacher Gou back home. Many years later I started to understand that to learn from either teacher Gou or teacher Yu is just against my nature, for what they wanted to educate was a violin player good for any orchestra in the country, not a soloist with characters or features that I would like to be.

  


  


  
Entrance exam of the Conservatory

  
The time flies. One year passed quickly. According to Shasha’s will, I registered for the entrance examination of the Shanghai Conservatory of Music behind the back of my Hunan Radio and TV Orchestra.

  
On that year, the conservatory had only 2 quotas for violin students while the applicants were over 200 from all over the country. The first stage was not live audition but by recorded tape. When the result was on the wall, I found no my name in the list. After my prompt enquiry of teacher Yu, I learnt it might be that my tape was mixed with someone else’s. However, teacher Yu comforted me by emphasizing that even if I could be luck enough to get myself into the second stage, there was absolutely no chance for me to get to the final. In this sense the second stage would only mean to give me a little face when I go back to my home province. Teacher Yu’s words really gave me a certain consolation; at least I could use it as a perfect excuse to Shasha.

  
I immediately sent a telegram to Shasha. And then thinking of packing up my things and get ready to return to Hunan, where I was from. But the next morning I received a very short long-distance call from Shasha, “Do not move. Stay there. I’m leaving right away, and will be in Shanghai tomorrow.”

  
Next several days I followed Shasha’s big bottom to almost every single one of the Conservatory who had something to do with the exam, and each dean and vise dean of the department. In the end, we visited the home of the Conservatory director He Ludin, one of the most influential composers in the New China who was also originally from Hunan. When His wife answered the door, Shasha suddenly uttered a fluent Hunan dialect. (Shasha as an opera singer always spoke mandarin and never spoke local dialect) That changed our status from students to guests of hers from hometown. When she heard that his husband’s Conservatory never had a violin student from Hunan province, the home province they were from, she looked a little surprised. “Is that so?” She said, “I’ll call the dean to ask if it is true that the tapes were got mixed up.”

  
Next morning Dean Yuan rushed to the guesthouse to notify me, “Prepare yourself for the second stage exam.”

  
I was so pleased that I took all my money out from my wallet, which was five-yuan RMB, and wanted to take Shasha for a meal as a calibration. Again I was severely scolded by Shasha, “Look at you, how could you walk your feet in the air when things hasn’t get start? Go to practice your violin at once.”

  
“Are you seriously thinking that I have a chance?” I took the courage to talk back, “Teacher Yu already told me that I had little chance. To get a second stage, is only to give me a face to go back to Hunan.”

  
“Your what? Face? You think I came so far away, and walked you door to door, have done all those only for your this sheet of thick face. You listen to me very carefully; you have no alternative but to get yourself into the Conservatory for me.”

  
For her!?

  
It took three days to go through all the exams that included live performance audition, paper test of musical theory etc.

  
As soon the exams all over Shasha started being busy again. She went through all her relationship network and found out some good news for me. She told me excitedly, “You do not need to go back to Hunan anymore.” Immediately after that she asked me, “Where is your five-yuan RMB that you wanted to take me out for a meal?”

  
I rummaged all my pockets; there was only 3yuan and 84fen left.

  
“There is still a week before your payday, how can you make two ends meet by this small sum? I just have to regard me to be unlucky to make your acquaintance. Follow me, let’s go to the Red House.”

  
Shasha didn’t wait for my response and went ahead. I chased up and asked, “Why Red House, why not green house, or white house?” By then I really didn’t know that the Red House was the most well known western restaurant in Shanghai.

  
After dinner Shasha took me to visit her “relatives” Aunt Zeng. In fact Aunt Zeng is not blood related to her, she was an old school mate of Shasha’s mother’s. That visit later became very important. Let me put it more concrete, to meet Aunt Zeng’s daughter Dongya, a very serious and supercilious artist, was crucial to me for the days to come.

  
The day after I saw Shasha at the Shanghai train station. Looking at the cloud Shasha said something profound, “Look, all the people at the station starts their journey at the same point, but once get on the train they all go different directions, directions lead them to entirely different world, where they will live different lives. You know what I mean? Once you get on the train of a university, it will take you to a totally another world.”

  
I did not pay as much attention as I should to her loquacious words as I somehow suddenly reminded Nini. When Shasha’s train was approaching us I tried to confirm our relationship, “Will you be alright to be in Hunan alone? I Mean I will be away from you here in Shanghai, at least for four years.”

  
Heard that Shasha first burst into laughter, and soon then a few transparent pearls rolled out from her eyes. When I was busy thinking a few nice words to comfort her, a few line vows of eternal love for example, Shasha wiped her tears, very seriously she said, “Our affair is all over, just take it as nothing has happened between us.” She took a deep breath and very sincerely, “The road of life I could only lead you to this spot, hereafter is for yourself to go forward.”

  
The train started to move. We looked at each other becoming smaller and smaller, forgot saying, “see you again” to each other. Therefore, Shasha and I, have never really face to face met again since.

  


  
Freshman, Accommodation Problem; Dongya & Yanhua

  
On the new students enrollment list again I couldn’t find my name. This time I went to see the dean of the Enrollment Office immediately. The dean told me, “You have past all your exams, but we are not able to let you in this year due to housing problem. You’ll have to wait for a year.”

  
“That’s impossible. I have to start this year,” My strong tone showed my firm determination.

  
“Unless?” He paused.

  
“Unless what? Whatever.” I asked eagerly.

  
“Unless you can provide accommodation by yourself for one year, just like the other Shanghai local students would.” He said.

  
“No problem.” I say very positively.

  
However, the truth is not “No problem.” In fact, the problem was huge, as I had no relatives no friend, absolutely no one in Shanghai turning for help. Where in the earth can I find a place to stay?

  
The bed I slept for a year at the guesthouse was due. I have to tie up my things put it under the bed of a friendly former roommate. I carried my violin and my yellow army bag walked out of the campus. With no destination I walked and walked. It must be close to the middle night I found myself under Aunt Zeng’s window, the only window of someone’s home in Shanghai I had looked outside through it once. When a young man at 20s is cornered, how much a face is worth? I ascended the 5th floor, knocked on the door. When Dongya, the daughter of the family opened the door, a devil glided into her life.

  
Heard that I was temporarily out of place to stay, (of course they had no idea that “temporarily” meant a year) Dongya said without hesitation before her mother, “Stay in my room, I can stay with mom for few days.”

  
There was a ray of light in Dangya’s eyes, the ray of light when young boys and girls meet, which I was quite familiar with. Several years later, Dangya told me when the moment she opened the door, such a sentence emerged in her mind, “A handsome young man with a violin in his arms walked into my life.”

  
Since then, everyday I got out from Dangya’s home very early, after a long day classes I would stay at the campus late to try to cause as little trouble as possible to Dangya’s family. One week had past and everyone seemed to get used to the new family style until one day a shocking event took place.

  
It was a Sunday morning. As I was free from school I stayed late in bed. Meanwhile Dangya was in the bathroom, she thought I was out for school as usual that without knocking at door she entered the room naked. Her white delicate body aroused my hunger for sex. My body was out of control from my mind that I rushed toward her. Dangya held her breath. I felt her body was as stiff as a piece of metal. The image of Nini flashed in my mind vaguely and quickly faded away.

  
After it was over, Dangya washed the flood stain on the bed sheet right away. Later she wrote in her dairy “It was Adan made me a woman of integrity.”

  
Since then, Dangya’s small room became not only the place for me to sleep, but also a place to sleep with her. Every evening as soon as I finished my super at school I went to the bus stop to wait for Dangya to come back from work. In order to make the best of my time I borrowed the very dim street lamp to do my harmonic homework. However this situation did not last very long, as very serious and conservative natured, Dangya made our relationship open to the whole family without consulting me.

  
It was a Sunday morning again, Dangya’s elder brother Xiaoming and younger sister Xiaoli all came home. Everyone agreed that it was our freedom to love each other and no one has the right to interfere. However, to stay in the same house before marriage would lead the neighbors a wrong impression that the two actually are living together, (though it was the fact that we were LIVING together) Therefore I was given two options: A, go on staying there but cut the relationship; B, keep the relationship going on but move out immediately.”

  
Nevertheless, to me I had only one way to go, go out immediately from their home, for the sake of Dangya’s face, though to me to stay was ultimately important.

  
I wrapped up all my staff in a bed sheet, leave it temporarily there under Dangya’s bed, again carried my violin walking on the street, this time not alone but accompanied by Dangya. Isn’t it universal that when happy people like to be together yet when sad people want to be alone? At least I do.

  
We walked and walked without knowing where to go, until we both were extremely tired we sat on an ice-cold street stone bench, trembling. Dangya’s little romantic mood at the beginning was all consumed by then. We sat there, quietly, no conversation, no word, for a long, long time, until Dangya reminded that his art teacher Huang had a tiny small working studio. That night I slept on the working table of teacher Huang’s. Strange enough I felt that hard cold table more comfortable than 5-star hotel.

  
When the sun rose next morning, I was happy again as I could forget all the problems, at least for more then 12 hours. I went the conservatory with high spirit as usual.

  
At noon I saw a slender girl was writing on public blackboard post in the campus. Her curved body reminded me of Nini. I walked up involuntarily. I touched her all over by my burning eyesight, from neck to waist and then to her little round hip and finally ended on the blackboard. Guess what I found? Two misprint in the English she wrote.

  
“Excuse me, but…”I said in English.

  
“Do you understand English?” She turned her face over to me.

  
Oh my God! She did not look like Nini, she looked more than Nini, not only the face, but also the voice and the way she talked. What I’m talking about, silly isn’t it. I gassed at her with my two eyes widely open. If put the two huge eyes together must be not any smaller than my half open mouth. Seeing my that facile expression, she captivating smiled, said, “My practice room is 407 at the piano building, you, spoony.” She quickly corrected the two misprints, and walked away toward the piano building. I followed her without thinking.

  
Room 407 was at the fourth floor of the piano building. Each room on the fourth floor was fixed for certain piano student to use, unlike our third floor in orchestra building, first come first serve. I followed her up to the ascend floor. She turned her head to check if I was still with her. That encouraged me a great deal. I chased up to the fourth floor, and knocked on her door like a gentleman.

  
“The door is open.” Her voice from inside.

  
I pushed the door open, and closed it as quickly as I could, as I saw her lying on her long piano chair with two legs widely open. Till then, I, the little Nine Brother was supposed to be experienced, yet never met girls like that, so straight and vulgar. I stared at her, and stood there foolishly without knowing what to do.

  
“Come on, take what you want, you, spoony!” Her eyes revealed a kind of irresistible sensuality.

  
“But, I…” Dangya’s image in my mind distracted me. “I, got something urgent to do.” I wanted to pull back, yet my two legs were not listening to my head.

  
Meanwhile, she pulled her cloth up to the neck. Two small bullets shaped tits appeared in front of my eyes. When a man, I mean a MAN come to this point, who could resist? President Clinton, perhaps? certainly not me. I threw myself on her; two hands ten fingers busy crumpled her breasts. She fainted.

  
“Do you really want?” I was still a little worried.

  
“Yes I do, I want I want, 24 hours a day I want.” She uttered repeatedly.

  
“24 hours a day, in this room?” I thought. That brightened my mind. You see, if I could accompany her here 24 hours a day, which would be the solution to my biggest problem! Isn’t it wonderful?

  
I took off her pants, skillfully.

  
After it was done, I tried to shirk responsibility of pregnancy by complaining, “You embraced me a little too tight that I might have come a little inside.”

  
“Don’t you worry, I’ll be alright.” She paused, “right, I’m Yanhua. How should I call you?”

  
Just like that, I moved into Yanhua’s small piano practice room, became her “toy” 24/7. Since then I was Dongya’s boy friend only by name, because in reality we had no place to meet, therefore not to mention making love, even if we could, I probably had contributed all to Yanhua and had little left for her.

  
Should I write about Yanhua? I have been very hesitant. Because what happened between us was very difficult to classify, as it was a little bit of everything, practical reasons; sexual desire; falling in love; each offer one had and took one need… Anyway, it was a kind of uncommon relationship.

  
Later I asked Yanhua “There are so many young men out there. Why me? Especially did it to me at the first time we met.” Her answer was very simple and direct, “Because you look like my father.” Through many conversations I figured it out that her father was her first lover. They started to have relationship since she was 15. It developed a habit that she couldn’t live without it. I also found out that the doctor said she had a kind of physical problem that stops her from being pregnant. The doctor also said her abnormal sexual desire was partly due to her metal issue. For me, all these were just excuses for my irresponsible doing, such as to have sex with her was like to give her a medical treatment etc.

  
A year later, I moved into the school dormitory, and I happened to be without roommate. Dongya was madly in love with me and no doubt came to see me in my room very often. Therefore to give Yanhua treatments became less and less. Until one day, Yanhua informed me, “You are out of days. For I found a new daddy to replace your labor.”

  
Yanhua, as my unforgettable lover, was one of those I really enjoyed and loved.

  


  
Focus on studies on the second year

  
For various reasons, or excuses, I gained not much obvious progress in my violin studies at the first school year. It marked at two student’s concerts, in which first time I was on stage playing Beethoven’s “romance”, I cut into the piano one bar too early; and the second time was even worse, in which I played Bruch’s violin concerto that I withdrew from the stage in the middle of the third movement.

  
However, since moved into the student dormitory on the second year I concentrated all my energy, time and mind to practice violin, in addition, I took as many elective courses as I was allowed. In that period, I was really like a piece of dry sponge thrown into the ocean of knowledge.

  
My great leap forward on my studies made my teachers happy and classmates envy.

  
Perhaps because of my rapid progress, my violin teacher Sheng let out her idle nature fully. She came to the lesson room without bring her violin, instead, some nice left over dishes. After she had the door closed she would open a lunch-box, “I made, try, to see if you like it.” When I devoured voraciously she would use my violin playing on the piece of music I was studying, from the beginning to the end. You know how long a violin concerto last, about 30 minutes, while a lesson was about 40 minutes. It means by time she finishing the concerto, one lesson was almost over. Nevertheless, she always remembered to ask me in the end, “how was the taste?” Although not sure she meant the taste of the music she played, or the dishes she made, my answer was always, “It tasted great.”

  
Of course I meant she dishes, as I really felt, compare with her violin playing, her dishes certainly tasted better.

  
Teacher Sheng was not only idle but also somewhat slovenly, quite often forgot things, this or that. I remember one time during the lesson; she eventually noticed that her socks, socks of one black and one white amused me. Her explanation was she came in a hurry that she couldn’t find one of the either other. When the lesson began her black should rest dropped off from her violin. When I hurried pick it up and handed it up to her, she was extremely embarrassed, “here you are, my other black sock. Hahaha!” As a student I couldn’t “hahaha”, therefore I “hum hum hum.” “Ha!”

  
Occasionally teacher Sheng came to the lesson room with her colored swollen face or band aided. No need to ask, last night she was again with her husband “the victory or defeat was a common matter in a conflict.”

  
Gradually, I started to like the way teacher Sheng taught me, as her way of teaching, (if I could call it “her way of teaching”) gave me much freedom that forced to think and develop my style of playing independently, unlike some of my schoolmates who followed their teachers so closely that they became copies of their teachers, without teacher, they didn’t know how to walk.

  
The student concert that I participated at the second year was life-long unforgettable. In which I played French composer Frank’s violin and piano sonata in A Major. When it was excellently over, I gained a long warm applause.

  
Me too, like all artists, a slave of applause.

  
Since then, I could feel the obvious change of attitude of the classmates’ towards me.

  


  
The junior year, beauty and English

  
Dangya was no doubt the most important figure to me in my entire four years in Shanghai. In fact, only the story between us could be worth writing another book. However, as this book is mainly telling the story of “Father Son and Violin”, Dongya’s role is intentionally lightened.

  
As I mentioned before, Dangya is an artist. She worked for the Shanghai Health Publicity Bureau. In that year, her painting poster won the first price of the national health Publicity contest. Perhaps being influenced by me she also decided to pursue her art studies at the Nanjing Fine Art Institute.

  
Since Dongya was away from me, I started to feel a kind of emptiness and solitude. Except very occasionally I picked up some girl from the street and took her back to my dormitory for an hour communication or so, I had no fixed relationship.

  
Fangfang, an extremely elegant and pretty coquettish young lady filled in the gape in this period.

  
It was a Sunday morning at an English Corner in a park (English Corners in public parks were, may be still are very popular in Chinese big cities where people can meet and practice their English) where I discovered a full haired head. I passed through the crowd to get closer to her. Immediately my blood pressure rose up and heart bits increased, because her two full sized breasts pushed the frock open between clasps, as well as her round bottom bundled inside the very tied jeans, especially her feet from her white high heel sandals make me hard to breathe. That kind of appearance could be nothing today yet it was the beginning of the 80’s in China; Deng’s movement of Reform and Open was just got started. By that time corset trousers and high heels, particularly high-heels were rather rare. Perhaps I was from that very moment became a captive of high heels.

  
“He…llo.” I felt something blocked my throat.

  
Seeing no response, I was about to try again, “He…”.

  
She turned her face over to me. My God! Never in my daily life so closely had viewed such a face so heavily made-up, except in my middle school years when the Mao Propaganda Team gave a stage performance of “The Red Women Army”. A smell of perfume mixed with arrogance from her face pushed me away from her. “Absolutely no chance.” I thought. Immediately I changed my mind by thinking “she is not my type.” But when I was about to walk away, I heard.

  
“Hey, Are you talking to me?” The beauty looked at my school badge, the badge that captured girls from time to time.

  
“No… I… nothing to say.” I ran away. Although my brain was filled with that woman, that extremely sexy woman, I never dreamed to have a chance meeting her again.

  
Human, are fated beings.

  
At the noon of the same day, after having had a bowl of cheapest wonton at a cheapest food place I passed by an English movie cinema. I gave up the movie right away, as the movie offered no concession to students. When I was about to leave the box office I saw that sexy girl who I met at the English corner passing me and headed into the cinema. Immediately I changed my mind and bought a ticket at normal rate with pain and chased the girl into the cinema, yet lost her in the dark. Guess what, as soon as I found my seat and sat down, and was about to search for the girl, she walked toward my direction, nearer and nearer, and finally stopped at the seat next to me. Maybe it was too dark, or more likely she did not remember me at all, she asked me in Shanghai dialect, “Pardon me, is your seat number 9?”

  
“Yes, please sit down.” I said in English, to exploit the opportunity to remind her about me at the park as well as to show off my English.

  
Meanwhile she noticed my shining school badge. Even under dim lights I could feel her excitement.

  
A light fragrance of perfume floated over to me. I didn’t know what the movie was about; I don’t even remember the title of the movie, for I was intoxicated, or should I say, “infatuated”.

  
The movie was soon over. I remained myself in the seat like paralyzed. She also waited, and waited, until almost no body left she said to me, “Are you not going?”

  
That sounded like an invitation.

  
Hence, we walked out of the cinema and went to the Shanghai Library together. It was getting dark. There was nothing left of the bowl of wonton that I filled into my stomach at noon. Worried about that I would be too late to catch supper at the school refectory I was about to make an excuse to get away from her she said, “I know a quite good western restaurant nearby.”

  
“I also know a noodle house nearby, wonton in there has some character.” Her appeared to be no interested in my suggestion that I had to withdraw my remark by saying, “Of course we are going to the western place as you recommended.”

  
Followed her we went to the western restaurant. For the sake of my face, I stepped in front of her and led her into the restaurant. Held the menu, I believe that she said she was on a diet was true. Yet I said I was not really hungry was absolutely a lie. No matter how carefully I chose the menu I had been worrying if my wallet was able to take the challenge? However, when the meal was over she even didn’t give my wallet a chance. Immediately my heart felt lighter, and heavier at the same time.

  
In the evening, we walked arm in arm alone the Waitan (the most popular spot in Shanghai) just like a couple of being for years. Facing the seawater, she hummed an English song “Love Me Tender”. That was the first of thousand times that I heard that song. That overwhelming wonderful feeling, no word is enough to describe.

  
“I hope tonight could last for ever.” I uttered my poetic feeling.

  
“Why for ever? Is there no tomorrow?” She yawned; not at all corresponded with my romantic mood.

  
“Of course, there will be a tomorrow. Tomorrow is Monday, my classes in the morning are not that important.” I sent her an invitation.

  
“Great, I’ll also call the school to tell, to tell, anyway I’ll be seeing you at 10:00.”

  
When I was trying to kiss her cheek goodbye she turned her face to me and drilled her tongue into my mouth. I was astonished; also a little worried about this kind of unhygienic behavior might pass disease.

  
Back to my dormitory it was rather late. But I was too excited to fall sleep. Thinking of the taste of her tongue remaining in my mouth, her flexible sexy body, and the elegant fragrance of hers, I couldn’t help my hand to comfort my boy’s growing part. That night, I don’t know how many times I made good use of the towel beside my pillow.

  
Now, let me make a brief introduction of the young lady. Her name is Fangfang, a student of the Shanghai Foreign Language Institute, the only daughter of a powerful and rich family.

  
Next morning Fangfang stepped into my Dom at punctually 10:00. I rubbed my read and swollen eyes and asked, “What would like to do today?”

  
“Anything you wish.” She sat on my only chair in the room, lifted her legs openly like a pincers, and clamped my bottom pulling toward her.

  
“Wha, wha, what do you want?” I was not pretending to be a gentleman, I was worried whether I was able do it or not, I mean after my boy’s thing had gone all the laborious work through out the whole night.

  
“You asked me what do I want, didn’t you? My answer was anything you like. I mean anything you like to do with me.”

  
“But I…”

  
“No need to pretend. I know you have been doing self-service all over night too. She said as she zipped down my jeans.

  
Hey, how great! My little thing became big immediately.

  
In bed, I discovered another Fangfang, a totally opposite of yesterday’s Fangfang, a lady of elegancy and arrogance, but rather a girl of ribaldry and cheap. Really, from then on, she would do anything a man can imagine, or can’t imagine, licking my feet or ass hole and drinking my sperm. It seemed the cheaper and dirtier she would be more stimulated. Ah, pity what I write isn’t an adult book that I need not to go for all the details.

  
Frankly speaking, I really felt very proud and satisfied to be with her, particularly when we were walking on the street passing by some schoolmates I would raise my head higher and back more straight than usual.

  
I knew by then if I wanted to keep girls like Fangfang for longer time, the weapon was to keep she feel mysterious about me and admire me all the time. For that I secretly started to study English very hard. When I say “very hard”, I mean I put almost all my possible time and energy to it; I even took an extra English class at another university. Therefore I had to ride my bicycle back and forth everyday between two institutions. I made a very good use of my ear of a musician that could remember things easily once I heard it, which I used the tape recorder Dangya bought for me for study music to record English of the day I studied and listen to it over again and again in bed over night. By this method, I could remember almost everything I had studied during the day. Moreover, I even tried to remember the entire illustrative sentences listed on the oxford dictionary by heart. With such an attitude and effort, in Chinese we say “the spirit of grinding an iron rod to be a needle”, when Fangfang asking me English questions, how couldn’t her be surprised over again and again. I remember Fangfang said to me, “If your knowledge were your semen, I would suck you as dry as a mummy.”

  
To be with Fanggfang was relax and safe, as regardless going to movies, concerts or restaurants, she would never let me touch my wallet. Not only that, from time to time she even gave me some cash. To use Fangfang’s cash to help Dangya with her economic emergency happened occasionally. People are like that, anything could be shameful in the beginning, gradually it would be used to it. As we Chinese say, “When it becomes a habit it would be natural.”

  
About one year later, Fangfang took me to her luxury flat for the first time. Also the first time let me appreciate her face, I mean the raw face of hers without chemistry make-up, a face very different from what I had been familiar with. First she give me a western suit as a present, the very first suit in my life I had. Then she performed coquettish strip tease dance. When I was seduced to be out of control, she bit my ear, “This may be our last time. So, you do what you want, how enter or where to enter, and keep yourself inside me as long as you like or as long as you can, I’ll accompany you days and nights without eating and drinking as far as you can. In one word, I’m all yours.” She said as she started zip off my pants, which I was already very used to. With some excitement and a little melancholy she said, “I have already got my visa to USA. And how about you? I mean when do you plan to go to abroad?”

  
“Me, going abroad?” What a day dreaming question!

  
I’m grateful to Fangfang, for her taught me various ways of love making, and equally important forced me to have built a solid English foundation, which is of great magnificence in my future life.

  
The Senior Year, Learning to Make Money

  
Regarding to my violin study, I made big progress in the second year, the third year went OK, but from the fourth year it started to go down hill obviously, the reason was I made acquaintance with a man called Chai Benshan.

  
Chai was the art editor of the school journal. It seemed to be all by accident to get to know him, but I still feel that was a kind of predestinated, I even think that was God’s arrangement, for knowing him became very significant to my future life.

  
The following is how I got to know him. One day I went to the School Journal office to see teacher Qian where I happened to see Chai talking with a foreigner about a China painting. Seeing them not use their mouths but hands faces and the whole bodies to communicate, I caught the opportunity to practice my English. By translating I leant that Chai was trying to sell his own Chinese painting to the foreigner. In his rather humble and sincere tone he used some quite proud language. By result the foreigner opened his wallet with a satisfactory smile. Chai also smiled satisfactorily. Then I knew the painting was sold for a good price.

  
I didn’t give much thought about this matter, yet unexpectedly Chai waited for me at the doorway of the school dining hall.

  
“We eat out.” He said to me.

  
On the table in a restaurant Chai handed me some money as much as ten RMB. I was in such a puerility at that time that I refused to take the money. You know, (may be you don’t know) ten RMB wasn’t a small sum; it equals 1/5 of my monthly wage. I said to him, “It cost me nothing to help you, offer me a nice meal in such a restaurant is more than enough, how could I accept your money?”

  
Chai interrupted me and said, “Take it, we do not steal nor rob, we make money by our own skill. From now on, we are partners. Besides, I’m supposed to be your teacher, listen to teachers wouldn’t wrong.”

  
My business sense initiated from that bill of ten RMB. From then on, not only Chai would come to me every time when business opportunities with foreigners came, sometimes I even actively helped him to find sales targets. Every time as soon as a painting was sold, I would immediately calculate how much my shire should be. For selling paintings, from time to time I even played truant.

  
In addition to selling paintings, Chai also received a contract of two color photo calendars from the Shanghai Publishing House, one theme of “children and musical instruments; the other theme of “beautiful girls and musical instruments”. For the sake of practicing the technique of photography, Chai lent me a Shanghai made seagull brand single lens reflex camera; which was supposed to be a top quality camera in China by that time, and as well as to help me buying sufficient amount of black and white films at extra discounted price from the Shanghai Film Production Studio. I used the money from selling paintings invested a complete set of black and white dark room equipments, so that in my very small room I started an underground photography studio. My strategy was “small profit with much sales”, taking photos for schoolmates were free of charge, which is of great temptation, after the photos were processed, and I charge ten-fen RMB per photo. When my schoolmates saw their own photographs few could resist not opening their wallets. Several weeks later, I received more business than I could handle. When my skill of taking photos reached a certain level I started to get into touch with beautiful girl models, occasionally in various degrees into touch with some of the girls physically. That made some schoolmates envy badly. With the rumor spread one day my violin teacher Sheng visited my little studio without informing me in advance, probably wanted to catch me in spot doing photos, or girls.

  
“It’s close to the final examination, you don’t practice your violin, what a hell are you doing with your bloody camera?” Teacher scolded at me in the aisle of my dormitory. Scolding, means someone is concerned about me, for that I was moved.

  
But, teacher Sheng’s scolding was not strong enough to resist the temptation of money. I still use one hand to play Sibelius violin concerto for the final examination, and the other hand to take photos earning money and seeking beautiful female models.

  
After the calendars were published, I haggled a little with Chai about how to divide the profit. But, friendship was more important, be accurately speaking, the next business was more important. Next business was cooperating with the Shanghai Film Production Studio to make a pop song music tape. However that business consumed me much time and energy but earning little money. Perhaps for compensating my time and effort, just before I approaching my graduation examination Chai helped me to got a small role in a movie. Hence, I postponed my examination, went to the Stone Island in Shandong Province with the film crew of the Shanghai Film Production Studio.

  
All these irresponsible behaviors made my teacher Cheng very upset.

  
When I returned back to Shanghai from the film making, all my classmates were graduated and left me alone for the make-up exam.

  
By then, my official girl friend Dangya also came back to Shanghai from Nanjing. Under the heavy pressure from teacher Sheng and close watch of Dangya, I temporarily distanced myself from Chai, and concentrated on practicing my violin. In that period, Dangya came to see me in my dorm very often. She always requested me to play my examination, the Sibelous Violin Concerto from the beginning to the end. Looking at Dangya the way she looking at me with admiration, once again I was aware my value of being a violinist. I even had a little regret for the time that I wasted. I decided to make every effort to remedy.

  
Think back, I strongly feel that in the process of my growth, the people surrounding me, particularly girls close to me, had great influence to me in my life.

  
Just before the graduation examination, again, an accident occurred.

  
My girl friend Dangya was pregnant. Not to mention pregnancy even sex before marriage was considered to be a crime at that time in china. I knew I was in deep deep trouble.

  
The rumor spread to my working unit, the Hunan Radio and TV Orchestra, the sectary Yu, Nini’s mother, used to be my protection umbrella, this time loudly roared at chief Liu with her order, “Immediately send two comrades to Shanghai to bring the criminal back for me.”

  
To be continued




 回复[1]: 文法が間違いすぎ 海上精英 (2010-05-05 23:46:36)  
 
   下手ですね、あれは本当に英文ですか?

 回复[2]: 九哥叔叔~~~~ 阿蓓 (2010-05-05 23:49:01)  
 
  我还没读,但有个小疑问,您用英文写的话,镜子上其他宁可能看伐大懂啊~~~~~

 回复[3]:  九哥 (2010-05-06 15:51:23)  
 
  对不起,我说明过了,不是贴出来给大家看的,而是来转格式的。也不要笑我的英文下手,我知道很下手,但先用下手的语言说出上手的故事,自然会引来上手语言的好心人的帮助。所以我要转格式,贴到上手人的坛子里去。会碰到贵人的。

 回复[4]:  laowu (2010-05-07 02:47:25)  
 
  一如楼主过去的文章,故事生动,语言也好,赞一个!DANYA中文名叫啥,好奇问下。

  
看了不回贴有罪孽感,所以奉献2分,忘楼主别见怪。其他请上手改,会更精彩。

  
THE FORTH STAGE -> THE FOURTH STAGE ?

  
a split of tongue -> A slip of the tongue?

  

 回复[5]:  九哥 (2010-05-07 17:26:34)  
 
  谢谢四楼指教,已经改过来了。本来就是来换格式,并不指望有人读,没想到还真有人喜欢拼音字母的。感动中。

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