WAITING FOR THE BEGINNING

19. Normal People have Normal Marriage

The two of them walk wordlessly towards the building on the far side of property. She stays a respectful few feet behind him and then closes the door gently. She gathers wood to start the fire, warming the space. Wei Xin watches her move in an almost choreographed fashion. 

The place does look cleaned up - a fresh smell of night jasmine and orange. On the walls hang some charcoal drawings on old newspapers. To his knowledge, no one in his family has any talent or inclination. Some drawings are people he knows, and others - a few repeating ones, are strangers.

"Yours?"

She nods shyly.

Afternoon turns into evening. And like that, they spent the first day together, peacefully. In fact, Wei Xin doesn't notice Xian Ling leaving until the gong sounds for dinner. He has already stepped down the trail before realizing and she is not following him. He returns to find the little house empty - and has a funny empty feeling in his heart.

The dinner celebration consists of a banquet-like meal. Many of the simple local dishes artfully arranged - pleasing to the eye with delicious aroma. When the cousins and the elders commend Xian Ling, Wei Xin feels an odd sense of pride.

She follows him back quietly, to set up the kang. She picks up some of the coals from the fire and put them into a enameled bowl and set it under the kang. Outside the spring rain peter patters on the tiled roof, mixed with the melted snow ... drip, drip, dripping all around the little shack.

After nearly an hour, she begins to doze. He motions for her to take the bed. She looks panicked and shakes her head. It dawns on him that maybe she misunderstands him, thinking that he will want to make the marriage official.  He muses to himself, not that he would mind it. She is, just his type. Except, he has no idea who she is. And forcing himself on a kidnapped girl is just so distasteful, he swigs more of the wine.

"Don't worry." He points to the floor. "I'll sleep there."

She smiles trustingly and nods.

He continues drinking and watches her sleep. Wondering what is the right thing to do. To just leave and pretend he knows nothing. To take her to the authority and leave her there. The latter risks exposing himself and his family. The former seems much more reasonable. But then she is stuck here, never finding her way to her true family. Why should he care, he wonders. 

He falls asleep at the table, only to be woken by Xian Ling's nightmare. Curled upon in a fetal position on the far side of the kang, Xian Ling whimpers and struggles as if choking.

He crawls onto the kang and shakes Xian Ling. Instead she brings up her arm to strike him. He holds her to stop her thrashing and reassures her. Soon her violence turns to tears and he holds her. Afterwards, he covers himself with one of the spare meinbei (cotton silk comforter). 

 In the early morning, Wei Xin wakes up to Xian Ling pressed into him for warmth and his arm still wrapped around her. For a minute, he thought he was eighteen again - waking up next to his wife. He feels comforted, finally at home and at peace. He kisses Xian Ling's head. Then realizes that this cannot be.

A moment of clarity and then he berates himself.

He extricates his arm carefully and goes out to for a run. When he returns, Xian Ling has folded the meinbei, cleaned up the room and set up a simple breakfast with a bottle of water on the table. He eventually finds her in the field - with a basket on her back, following the other girls to pick wild vegetables and set out bamboo fish traps in the rice patties. She looks serene as if nothing happened at all.  

Yet throughout the day, when Xian Ling thinks of Wei Xin, she feels a sense of embarrassment; as if she shouldn't be doing that. At the same time, she feels a sense of safety and belonging.

The days become a week. And Wei Xin begins to look forward to their evening time together. When she sets the fire, warms the kang and then reads. When he comes to the kang on the fifth evening, she simply scoots over to the other side without a word. A trusting look on her face.

This is where his fantasy and reality part ways. His childhood sweetheart was a simple village girl - more happily engaged in chitchatting and lovemaking. With this Xian Ling, his heart feels a tension that was absent from his first carefree, all-in first love. A tension that brings its own flavor of intense longing, deeper feelings of something. One that is not about the physicality, but about the silence between them - exploring who they are to each other.

Two and half month later, on his way back from his weekly check-in with his handler, he sees some coloring pencil and drawing pads. Without much thought, he purchases them. As he holds the small package, he envisions Xian Ling's joyful face. She rewards him with more than just a smile, like a child, she wraps her arms around him.

In the coming days, she brightens their little with colorful still-life of the village and  drawings of people he's never seen before. When she gestures for him to pick a drawing for himself, he pulls out his phone and snaps a photo of the two of them. When she finishes, he deletes the photo - noticing that she has changed her deer-in-the-headlight look in the photo to a sweet, contend smile in the drawing.