Women Walk, Men Stop

Author: Lan Shan
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-02-01
Features: The original title of this novel is "The Tale of a Single Woman," a beloved online literary work among netizens. It's a gospel for single women, a feast of words celebrating youth, and a wild carnival of small feminism, where three women make a play. Especially with one bachelor, one married, and one divorced, who is happier, and who is less fortunate? A single woman, cheating isn't stealing, you know; a married woman, left only with temptation, because she's already labeled; a divorced woman, lacking the bold courage of a young calf. Chen Yishan is a die-hard unmarriedist "single woman," her life filled with conquest, vanity, pride, and exuberance. This unrestrained lifestyle satisfies many who want to do but dare not, leading some to envy, some to sneer, and more to admire. Three women make a play, especially with one bachelor, one married, and one divorced—so who is happier, and who is less fortunate? A single woman, cheating isn't stealing, you know; a married woman, left only with temptation, because she's already labeled; a divorced woman, lacking the bold courage of a young calf. Thus, the friendship of women is on the verge of being called forth. Please read the excerpt:
Sitting proudly in a chair like a queen, with a cup of steaming Taiwanese bubble tea beside her, her eyes casually drifted across the corridor outside the glass, able to spot any movement clearly. "Damn it, what kind of look is that? Stunningly handsome or utterly ordinary, blending into the crowd like a ghost?" If the former, that would be awesome—tying her to your arm would be a huge ego boost. After all, what they want is attention. They can earn eyeballs without eating or drinking—just as long as one aspect of their physiology or psychology is satisfied, it's okay! If the latter, don't waste your breath—just leave. Life is too precious to waste on such nonsense. According to official Chinese gender ratio data, it's 116 males to 100 females, while black market figures stand at 150 males to 100 females. At least 40 to 100 million men lack healthy outlets for their physiology. In a market economy with such a surplus of people, why not be picky? Pick until your hands and eyes blur. And don't lower your standards: cars, houses, money, status, children (better not have them), and stick to the "Five Good Omens" formula.
In the corridor, a teenage boy and girl were kissing and hugging like two trees fused together. From the back, they looked like they were in a foreign country—too bold, something the Chinese aren't used to. You have to consider the feelings and eyes of your fellow countrymen. Of course, it didn't bother anyone, only the old fogeys and failed lovers who felt unbalanced. And then there are the fake moralists. I’m none of the above, yet I still felt uncomfortable. This prolonged exchange of saliva could provide convenience for bacteria or even viruses. If I’d eaten a chicken leg, steak, frog, or whatever at lunch, those avian flu, cattle fever, SARS, or other wild diseases could find a cozy new home in my young, healthy skin. Still, the skin is so delicate and tender—just thinking about it makes my stomach ache. Do these Western things really have to invade and become part of our lifestyle? The mouth feels good, and we can eat meat, rice, noodles, fruits, and vegetables—so what about from a medical perspective? Go to the zoo and see. Those monkeys and chimpanzees don’t care about public kissing, hugging, face-to-face contact, or even masturbating in the streets. Are we supposed to strip naked and return to the jungle?
"Excuse me, is this Ms. Chen Yishan?" A young man in a white shirt walked over and asked politely. I openly studied him for 20 seconds. His hair was shiny and neatly combed, though not very long—like vegetation in a semi-desert or semi-arid region. His face was a bit flat but had clear features, still handsome. His clothes were straight, as if he’d just gotten ready for a date, though he’s usually messy—doesn’t even wash his underwear for two weeks? I sniffed, but didn’t smell any odor, only a faint, just-right scent of cologne.
"You’re the university teacher?" That was like admitting it himself. If he didn’t like her, he’d say, "I mistook you for someone else," and leave. "Can I sit?" As if they were about to sit down. "You can stand too, it doesn’t affect the conversation or tea." He smiled and sat down anyway, looking relaxed and composed.
"You’re prettier and younger than I imagined." Not bad for a university teacher—his mouth was smooth, and it seemed he was quite pleased with this flattery. "Haha, your imagination is that poor? Oh, just kidding. If you take it seriously, it’s no fun." He wasn’t embarrassed, just smiled. "You’re also bolder than I imagined."
"Are you a tiger or a giant ape? If not, being timid and shy would be pointless."
"Women, being a bit timid and shy is understandable. Over time, it becomes a quality that should be possessed."
"Congratulations, you clearly have those two qualities! What subject do you teach? What do you usually talk about with those unruly students?" He cleared his throat.