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She began to recall more memories, from the old to the oldest. Her memory rewound rapidly. She seemed to forget when was the last time she visited there. But the vividness of her earliest trip, when she was once a stranger to this city, had loomed over her.
It was a perfect day in May fi fteen years earlier. Bing had for the fi rst time made full preparations to show her the city, his hometown, in his new white car. He looked handsome and decent in his white suit and a fi ne red tie. His hair was carefully slicked aside into waves. A huge jade yellow ring was dazzling on his fi nger. Mei was deeply attracted by each and every characteristic, even by the smoothly shining surface of his car and the arousing smell of his perfume. Sitting beside him, encountering everything new and interesting, and feeling her hand being touched, she’d imagined a fascinating scene that his car became a white horse and they were heading to a fairy place, where they could build a kingdom of their own and their own only. She couldn’t resist but embraced the beauty of the city, the freshness of the air, the excitement of their trips together, the sexual pleasures of morning and night, the sweetness of his words, the enthusiasm of his youth and the wealth of his knowledge, as a time when life was good and love so full that hope or the worship of Buddha was not necessary and therefore completely forgotten.