The leaf was as light as a fern; when a slight breeze made the delicate silhouette flutter, they seemed to hear a faint, almost melodic sound, like the tinkling of wind chimes in the eaves.

"Let's walk over there a bit," said Liuyuan.

Liusu didn't say anything. But as he walked, she slowly followed. After all, it was still early, and lots of people go out for walks on a road—it would be all right. A short distance past the Repulse Bay Hotel, an overhead bridge arched through the air. On the far side of the bridge there was a mountain slope; on the near side, a gray brick retaining wall. Liuyuan leaned against the wall, and Liusu leaned too, looking upward at its great height, the wall so high that the upper edge faded out of sight. The wall was cool and rough, the color of death. Pressed against that wall, her face bloomed with the opposite hues: red lips, shining eyes—a face of flesh and blood, alive with thought and feeling.

"I don't know why," said Liuyuan, looking at her, "but tbis wall makes me think of the old sayings about the end of the world. Someday, when human civilization has been completely destroyed, when everything is burned, burst, utterly collapsed and ruined, maybe this wall will still be here. If, at that time, we can meet at this wall, then maybe, Liusu, you will honestly care about me, and I will honestly care about you."

"So you admit you like to play games," Liusu sniffed coyly. "That doesn't mean you can drag me along too! When have you caught me lying?"

"Fair enough," Liuyuan said with a snicker. "There's no one more openhearted than you."

"That's enough ... stop patronizing me."

Liuyuan was silent for a long time. Then he sighed. "Something you're unhappy about?" Liusu asked.

"Lots."

"If someone as free as you are thinks life is unfair, then someone like me ought to just go and hang herself."

"I know you're not happy," said Liuyuan. "You've certainly seen more than enough of all these awful people, and awful things that are everywhere around us. But if you were seeing them for the first time, it would be even harder to bear, even harder to get used to. That's what it's been like for me. When I arrived in China I was already twenty-four. I had such dreams of my homeland. You can imagine how disappointed I was. I couldn't bear the shock, and I started slipping downward. If... if you had known me before, then maybe you could for-give me for the way I am now."

Liusu tried to imagine what it would be like to see her Fourth Sister-in-law for the first time. Then she burst out: "That would still be better. When you see them for the first time, then no matter how awful, no matter how dirty they are, they—or it-is still outside of you. But if you live in it for a long time, how can you tell how much of it is them, and how much of it is you?"

Liuyuan fell silent. After a long pause he said, "Maybe you are right. Maybe what I'm saying is just an excuse, and I'm only fooling myself." Then he laughed suddenly. "Actually, I don't need any excuses! I like to have a good time and I have plenty of money, plenty of time—do I need any other reason?"

He thought it over, and again grew frustrated. He said to her, "I don't understand myself—but I want you to understand me! I want you to understand me!" He spoke like this, and yet in his heart he'd already given up hope. Still, stubbornly, plaintively he went on: "I want you to understand me!"

Liusu was willing to try. She was willing to try anything, within limits. She leaned her head in his direction, and an-swered softly, "I do understand. I do." But while comforting him, she suddenly thought of her moonlit face. That delicate profile, the eyes, the brow—beautiful beyond reason; misty, ethereal. Slowly she bowed her head.

Liuyuan began chuckling. "That's right, don't forget," he said, in a new tone of voice. "Your specialty is bowing the head. But there are those who say that only teenage girls can bow the head well. If you're good at it, then it becomes a habit. And when you've bowed the head for many years, you might end up with a wrinkled neck."

Liusu turned away, but not without raising her hand to her neck. "Don't worry," laughed Liuyuan, "of course you don't have any wrinkles. When you get back to your room, when no one else is around, you can unbutton your collar and check."

Liusu didn't reply. She just turned and started walking. Liuyuan caught up to her. "I'll tell you why you'll keep your good looks. Saheiyini once said she didn't dare get married be-cause Indian women, once they start relaxing at home, sitting around all day, just get fat. I told her that Chinese women, when they sit around, aren't even good at fattening up-since even that takes some kind of effort. So it turns out that laziness has its advantages!"

Liusu utterly ignored him, and from then on he held him-self in check, making conversation and small jokes all the way back. She did not soften until they'd arrived at the hotel. Quietly they returned to their respective rooms.

Liusu assessed the situation. It turned out that what Liuyuan cared about was spiritual love. She approved entirely, because spiritual love always leads to marriage, while physical love tends to reach a certain level and then stop, leaving little hope of marriage. There was just one small problem with spiritual love: while courting, the man always says things that the woman doesn't understand. Not that it matters all that much. In the end the marriage goes through anyway, and then you buy a house, arrange the furniture, hire some servants-and in such matters the woman is much more expert than the man. Given all that, Liusu felt that the little misunderstanding of that evening was not anything to worry about.

The next morning there was not a peep from Mrs. Xu's room, which meant she must be sleeping in. Liusu remembered that Mrs. Xu had told her that in this hotel there was an ex-tra charge for room delivery, not to mention the tip, so she de-cided to go to the dining room and save a bit of expense. She washed and dressed, and walked out the door. There was a porter waiting outside. Seeing her, he immediately knocked at Liuyuan's door. Liuyuan appeared at once. "Let's have breakfast together," he smiled.

"Mr. and Mrs. Xu haven't raised the bed curtain yet?" he asked, as they walked together.

"They must be tuckered out from their good time last night!" returned Liusu. "I didn't hear them come in. It must have been close to dawn."

They took a table on the veranda outside the dining room. Beyond the stone railing stood an enormous palm tree, its feathery fronds trembling slightly in the sun, like a fountain of light. Under the tree was a pool with its own fountain, much less magnificent.

"What arc Mr. and. Mrs. Xu going to do today?" asked Liuyuan.

"I think they're going to look at houses."

"Let them look at houses—we'll go have our own fun. Would you rather go 10 the beach or go have a look at the city?"

Liusu had, on the previous afternoon, surveyed the beach scene through binoculars. Strapping youths and lovely girls. Very exciting but a little 10o rowdy. Preferring to err on the side of caution, she suggested that they go into town. So they caught one of the buses provided by the hotel and went into the city center.

Liuyuan took her to the Great China to eat. Liusu heard the waiters speaking Shanghainese, filling the air with her native tongue. "Is this a Shanghai restaurant?" she asked with some surprise.

"Don't you feel homesick?" Liuyuan laughed.

"But ... coming to Hong Kong so that we can eat Shanghai cuisine seems a bit silly."

"I do a lot of silly things when I'm with you. For instance, take a tram around in circles, go to a movie I've seen two times already-"

"Because you've caught silliness from me, right?"

"Take it to mean whatever you please."

When they had finished eating, Liuyuan raised his glass and drained the remaining tea, then lifted the glass high and stared at it.

"If there's something worth seeing, let me look too," Liusu said.

"Hold it up to the light," said Liuyuan. "The scene inside reminds me of the forests of Malaya."

When the glass was tilted, a hatching of green tea leaves stuck to one side; held up to the light, they became a waving plantain tree, while the tangled swirl of tea leaves clumped at the bottom looked like knee-high grass and undergrowth. Liusu peered up at the glass, and Liuyuan leaned over, pointing all this out. Through the dusky green glass, Liusu suddenly saw him watching her with eyes that seemed to laugh, yet didn't. She put the glass down and smiled.

"I'll take you to Malaya," Liuyuan said.

"What for?"

"To go back 10 nature." He thought for a moment. "But there's just one problem-I can't imagine you running through the forest in a cheongsam. But neither can I imagine you not wearing a cheongsam."

Liusu's face stiffened. "Stop talking nonsense."

"But I'm serious. The first time I saw you, you were wearing one of those trendy tunics, and I thought you shouldn't bare your arms like that. But Western-style clothes aren't right for you either. A Manchu-style cheongsam might suit you better, if its lines weren't so severe."

"In the end, if a person is ugly, then no matter how she dresses it still won't look right!"

Liuyuan laughed. "You keep twisting my words! What I mean is that you're like someone from another world. You have all these little gestures, and a romantic aura, very much like a Peking opera singer."

Liusu raised her eyebrows. An opera singer-indeed!" she said sarcastically. "But of course it takes more than one to put on a show, and I've been forced into it. A person acts clever with me, and if I don't do the same, he takes me for a fool and insults me!"

When Liuyuan heard this, he was rather crestfallen. He raised the empty glass, tried to drink from it, then put it down again and sighed. "Right," he said. "My fault. I'm used to throwing out lines because everyone throws lines at me. But to you I have said a few sincere things, and you can't tell the dif-ference."

"I'm not the worm in your innards—I can't read your mind."

"Right. My fault. But 1 really have thought up a great many schemes because of you. When I first met you in Shanghai, I thought that if you could get away from your family, maybe you could be more natural. So I waited and waited till you came to Hong Kong ... and now, I want to take you to Malaya, to the forest with its primitive peoples ..." He laughed at him-self, his voice hoarse and dry, and called for the check. By the time they had paid, he had already recovered his good spirits; he resumed his excessively courteous, unflappably chivalrous manner.

Every day he took her out, and they did everything there was to do ... movies, Cantonese opera, casinos, the Gloucester Hotel, the Cecil Hotel, the Bluebird Coffee Bar, Indian fabric shops, Szechuan food in Kowloon ... and they often went for walks, even very late at night. She could hardly believe it, but he rarely so much as touched her hand. She was continually on edge, fearing that he would suddenly drop the pretense and launch a surprise attack. But day after day he remained a gen-tleman; it was like facing a great enemy who stood perfectly still. At first this threw her entirely off balance, like missing a step when going down a flight of stairs; her heart pulsated, throbbing irregularly. After a while, though, she got used to it.

Then something happened out on the beach. By this time Liusu knew Liuyuan a little better; she didn't think a beach outing would be a problem. So they whiled away a whole morning there. They even sat together on the sand, tbough facing opposite directions. Suddenly Liusu squealed: mosquito bite, she said.

"It's not a mosquito," said Liuyuan. "It's a little insect called a sand fly. Its bite leaves a red mark, just like a mole on your skin."

"There's too much sun," Liusu complained again.

"Let's sit out a bit longer, and then we can go into one of those cabanas. I've already got one rented."