Scarring Jasmine-Chapter Thirty Seven Disfigurement

11/24/2024 Sunday 42-54F Partly Cloudy

The greater the pleasure brought by drugs, the greater the pain to quit.

When the drug addiction came, Jasmine felt that there were thousands of little carnivorous worms in her bones, biting her, sucking her bone marrow, and trying to break out; her flesh was eaten bit by bit by thousands more worms, the long sharp teeth of each tearing and stretching her muscle greedily, like a person attacking a chicken drumstick!

All the worms wanted to permanently inhabit her body, so they could dominate her, overwhelm her, and master her!

The physical pain of withdrawal possessed Jasmine: She yelled, ripped her clothes, pulled her hair, and hit her head on the wall; she tried to use scissors to cut up her skin; she pinched her arms and legs hard hoping it could distract the feeling of the pain coming from her insides. Tears and snot couldn’t stop running like tap water. Moreover, the physical pain kept challenging her mentally: She was sweaty yet shivering, nervous yet furious; she wanted to smash everything including herself into pieces so those worms could get out! In those moments, she would have died for a tiny piece of opium; just a tiny piece would save her life, would take her from Hell to Heaven! For a puff, a deep long puff, she was willing to trade everything! No dignity, no respect, no morality; whoever wanted to take her, just took her, as long as she could get a puff!

Zhao had removed everything from the room which might harm her, or she might use as a tool to harm herself; and sometimes he had to tie her to the bed to stop her violence. Those days were like hell! Seeing her suffering, begging for opium, he almost gave in; but he knew that once he gave in this time, there would be another, and she could never quit. Yes, she did claim that she wouldn’t have a child with him, but if she could get rid of opium, then there were still possibilities that she might change her mind in the future. And perhaps, perhaps this was about sleeping with Pox-Faced A San. Was she afraid that he might abandon her? Otherwise, why did she all of a sudden decide not to smoke opium anymore? 

Gradually, later that week, the withdrawal fits became fewer; and each time it was shorter and caused her less pain. Her mood became more stable, and her spirit was recovering day by day.

During those days, Zhao spent most of his time accompanying her and caring for her; nights, he cuddled her in his arms. Watching Jasmine’s peaceful sleeping face, he was suffering his own pain: For the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure about himself. He felt like he was standing at a crossroad, he didn’t know which path he should take.

He didn’t forget those promises which he made to Jasmine; he knew he failed her. But he was a man; he couldn’t miss any opportunities which might raise him higher. The higher he was, the stronger he would be, then he could provide more protection to the ones he loved. When a man was insignificant, all the arguments and protests were meaningless because nobody would listen nor care. There were only two kinds of men in this world: Big or small; superior or inferior. If he couldn’t be born big, then he must be responsible for making himself strong and unbeatable, then he could beat others—Even if sometimes he had to bear shame.

She told him that she no long wanted that Peach Blossom Dock house; he would continue to build it for her and take her there when it was finished. It was his paradise, it was his dream, a dream too beautiful to forget. “After all these struggles, the only thing I want is to end my life with her, there, slowly and leisurely, like two trees. Time will heal her wounds; she will forgive me and accept me.” He stroked Jasmine’s hair, “I am so exhausted; I am dying for a good sleep.” 

Sometime after, Jasmine woke up during the night. A small lamp was on, and Zhao was sleeping deeply by her side. Dreamlike, she got up from the bed. Zhao’s clothes were thrown on the floor, so she picked them up. There was something stiff and heavy in his pocket; she checked it subconsciously, and found a small pistol. She took out the pistol, examined it, then held it straight in her hands.

She slowly moved her arms, trying to target something under the dim light of the lamp: Not the dresser, not the window, not the vase…When her eyes caught Zhao, her arms stopped moving. She pointed the gun at Zhao’s head, her index finger on the trigger. She had never touched a gun in person before, but she knew a bit about how it functioned. Zhao was lying like he was dead, yet his sound snores revealed that he was still alive—Alive! If she pulled the trigger, there would be no Zhao anymore; all her problems would be solved; she would regain her freedom. He was the cause of her trouble; he was a selfish cold-blooded man!

Those resentments loaded in her mind; just like those little worms in her body during the drug withdrawal, they were eager to crawl out! Even a tiny bit more hatred would make her pull the trigger. However, at that moment, while she was staring at Zhao’s innocent sleeping face, those resentments started to retreat like defeated army troops or ebb tide. She remenbered was their first separation at her parents’ house on her mother’s birthday: 

“They followed Jasmine to the door, where Wang’s rickshaw puller was waiting. Jasmine bid goodbye to everyone. Zhao stood behind her, less than two feet away. When she bowed to him, all of a sudden the moon came out of the clouds and shone on their faces. They both were surprised to meet each other’s eyes, in which they knew something crushed at that moment.”

She slowly withdrew the gun—She couldn’t and shouldn't take his life.

She put the pistol back in Zhao’s pocket, hung his clothes on the rack, then returned to the bed.

Zhao called Pox-Faced A San at noon on Monday: “Elder brother, I accept your deal, but I will take none of your women. Only one night; you can come to pick her up at my house this evening, tomorrow morning I will go get her at eight. Don’t harm her, and don’t fool me!” 

“Hahaha,” A San’s thick loud laughter rose again on the phone, “relax buddy, don’t be so serious, it is all for our good. Why should I harm your wife and fool you? What benefits will I get by doing that except for obtaining one more enemy? I told you, women are tools; you don’t want my women for fun? It’s up to you. I will come over about six o’clock.”

The phone was hung up. Tiger walked about the room agitatedly. “What’s the matter Tiger?” Zhao asked. 

Tiger came to the table, put his both hands on it and glared at Zhao, exploded: “Big Brother, I don’t think you did the right thing! Tell you the truth, I never agreed with any of your decisions about that woman. When you saw her at that opera, I reminded you that she wasn’t our sort, you should leave her alone. Then you caused her divorce and married her on that mountain. Qian is a rich man, he is capable of giving her a nice life, while we are just bandits doing dangerous things. If you really loved her, you shouldn’t have gone to disturb her! Ok, eventually she is yours, so what the hell are you thinking about to let your wife sleep with that pig? If he dares bring that up to me, I will punch the shit out of his pig head and cut off his penis! He is testing you; he is taking advantage of your eagerness!”

Zhao didn’t answer right away. He sat in the chair; the expression on his face looked aggressive yet embarrassed. After a while, he spoke: “Tiger, you don’t understand. The issues between me and Jasmine, between A San and our business are very complicated. You have been with me for many years; up to now, the journey which we went through has never been easy. A man must be greater than others to make people shut up; and sometimes, he has to make hard decisions. I will compensate her one day; I will slit A San alive to wash off this shame once I no longer need him.” 

“Big Brother, I am just a simple man, I can’t speak big words. I only know that if I love a woman, I ought to make her happy. Even though we are criminals and ignore most common principles, there are still several basic ones which we shouldn’t cross. I never heard that to do business, men must share their women first. She is your woman, and you let her sleep with someone who extorted her family? That’s too much. You know it is a shame, so why do you still want to do it? Can’t we hold our own? I don’t want to be hostile; I am just voicing my opinion. You are my big brother, and she is your woman; it is your decision!” 

Tiger opened the door and strode off.

Jasmine sat in her room in front of the dresser. She had been sitting there for a long time, waiting for the evening to come. Zhao told her that Pox-Faced A San would come at six to take her away, and the next morning eight o’clock he would go get her at A San’s house. Whatever else he said to her she had forgotten—not important. Men always had too many excuses to justify themselves; then they used their promises to trade for forgiveness. Yu walked away from her for his freedom; Qian left her to Zhao for his peace; and now Zhao handed her to the enemy for his business. They were all the same: They gave up on her easily even without a try--a letter, a bullet, a partnership. She remembered: “Never rely on any man, only have faith in yourself!” --Because nobody could and would let you depend on them! At the end, they were always on their own, you on yours. That was the unfortunate truth.

The time left to her wasn’t much. She was still waiting; she withheld a tiny trace of her last hope that perhaps Zhao would change his mind and not make her go. After all, she knew that he still cared about her, loved her; and if that was the case, if he held his line, she would consider going to Peach Blossom Dock with him, like he promised just a few days before, to live a stable simple life and to have children. She would give him, as well as herself, one more chance, the last chance.

She heard the car honking outside the garden; she knew that Pox-Faced A San had arrived. “Chunxiang,” she called to the maid, “please bring me a cup of tea.” Then she inspected her image in the mirror: Her face still looked ill from the opium, and the pains in her body caused by the drug withdrawal hadn’t completely gone yet. However, her beauty hadn’t been reduced much. She looked as fragile and delicate as a bone china vase: A lavish collection of ebony tresses extended to her waist; the fresh almond-like face; the dark crescent eyebrows; the clear apricot-shaped eyes; the little straight nose that seemed like it was made with silk by skillful hands; and her lips resembling two peach blossom petals freshly picked from a spring branch. She positioned her index finger on her left cheekbone and drew an imaginary line along her cheek down to the upper side of her chin.

Chunxiang brought in the tea then was dismissed. The cup was her favorite china blue cup, hand-drawn with an allover peony and chrysanthemum pattern. She held it in her hand and examined its elaborate design, feeling sorry for it. She took a sip of tea, listening to Zhao and A San’s voices drawing nearer. Then she heard Zhao call to a maid: “Go invite Madam to meet the guest!”

Jasmine threw the cup on the floor fiercely, after a clear crack, it broke into pieces. She picked a sharp triangular one, held it in her hand, and pressed its point hard into the skin of her left cheekbone, then slashed down. She felt a harsh piercing pain.

Chunxiang heard the breaking sound of the cup and hurried into the room; there she saw Jasmine sitting in front of the mirror. The left side of her face was full of blood. “Madam!” She yelled out. 

Upon hearing Chunxiang’s yell, Zhao rushed into the room. “What have you done?” Zhao cried to Jasmine and held her in his arms. “Go get the doctor!” He shouted to the maids, “Now!”

Jasmine gave him a hateful, sneering smile, then closed her eyes.

“Pity! Such a pretty face is ruined!” A San followed Zhao into the room, saw this scene and clicked his tongue, “Iron your things out first, younger brother. Come to my place tomorrow afternoon so we can put our business on track!” 

A San’s car honked away. Zhao knelt in front of the dresser, pressing Jasmine tightly against his chest. He didn’t say a word for a long time. Then, he cried.