Twilight and the Dancing Bear

This book contains selected novellas and short stories edited by Zhang Li， a famous critic， an expert on feminine literature studies， and a professor at Beijing Normal University. It continues the themes of love， secrets， and distance and includes works by 20 Chinese female writers of different generations. It represents a gaze on contemporary literature and an expectation for the future of feminine literature.

After the epidemic last year， stores that had been closed for many days reopened one after another. “Q Park” was one of them. It launched a cartoon dancing bear to attract customers. Similar to the menu of seven or eight lines in a small restaurant， Xili was very familiar with all the symbolic postures of this “dancing bear.” It copied several consecutive dances from the expression package and created a few tricks of its own. The doll’s costume was so large that it could not take big steps when it jumped. The bending of its knees was incorrect， and the peace gesture could only be held up to its neck. But this also made it particularly funny. In addition， it obviously had the consciousness of trying to be funny. It always deliberately waved its small ears， got close to the camera lens， or licked the honey that did not exist on its hands. This would surely attract kids， big and small. They surrounded it， pulled it， hugged it， or shook it. Then， it became crazier. It sat on the ground and rolled about， unable to get up. Like this， it pretended to ask kids for help. Sometimes， the kids were dragged far away by adults before they had to get up by themselves.

Over dinner， Xili was watching the bear. He had stared at the screen for a whole day， and the corners of his eyes were a little swollen. He didn’t dare to scan the phone again. It was not bad to be accompanied by such a dancing bear that jumped in front of him. It could be the only living thing that made him feel kind and relaxed all day. Conversely， Xili should be the one who paid the most attention to it.

After all， who would care about it except kids？ Moreover， this bear looked a bit silly. On its belly was pasted the QR code of “Q Park.” Obviously， it had tasks. It should have targets， but it didn’t care about this. To attract and make fun of the kids nearby， it greeted everyone it encountered as much as possible — outsiders carrying luggage， gentlemen in suits， chubby girls holding ice creams in their hands， and old ladies dragging carts. It would dance， shaking its head and twisting its ass， until they got impatient. Then， it would hastily reveal its belly. The posture looked a bit erotic， especially from Xili’s view. This made him uncomfortable. So， he lowered his eyelids and his eyesight fell back to the fried rice or noodles or bean noodles on the table. Occasionally， someone would scan the code on its belly， and then it would immediately bow or twist its buttocks several times.

Through the dusty and scratched frontage glass， Xili watched like this every day when he unconsciously threw much food into his mouth. After a meal， he would go for a walk in Huigu Square. Out of the slight kindness in his heart， he would get close to the bear as if nothing had happened.

Its coverall， to be accurate， was not rose but leather pink. This color looked a bit dirty. Kids touched the circle below its belly more， and there were a few stains on it. The trouser legs were piled on its ankles. Mud and dirt covered the trouser legs and the whole soles. However， the twilight covered it just right， showing its homely softness. It seemed as if it were not a fluffy doll but a real dancing bear， a creature that existed with the adults， kids， and the elderly who passed by. Xili walked slowly， bending his head. As long as he reached within 10 meters of it， the bear would take the initiative to approach. Its feet would alternately stand on its tiptoes， its hands would make gestures under the tip of its nose， and it would try to jump in the same place， though it couldn’t jump high. Every inaccurate movement devoted its passion as much as possible.

When it jumped to the front， Xili looked up， out of courtesy at least and also curiosity. As the bear’s cartoon costume was so tight， he could not see inside. The only opening should be its eyes， from which only two dark brown transparent balls could be seen. The balls reflected the thin twilight and colorful streetlamps that had just been lit up. The eyeballs couldn’t be seen clearly. Seeing this， Xili happily confirmed with voluntary confusion： Look， it is a bear from head to toe！ He couldn’t help feeling warm and taking two steps towards it. He was so close to it that he could hear its breath and touch its furry， dirty palm. But he was not a kid and could not touch or hug it. He could only take out his mobile phone and scan the QR code on its belly. He didn’t hope it would recognize him， though he had scanned many times. His face was covered by a mask and could not be recognized. Besides， the bear was always standing there. After he scanned the code， it gave a fancy bow. Then， it earnestly stretched out its chubby arm and guided Xili to Q Park in the left rear.

Q Park， a comprehensive children’s playground， had a bubble ball pool， a climbing frame， a clay handicraft area， a feeding area for little white rabbits and hamsters， a doll machine， a trampoline， and a rock climbing hall. All the areas were noisy， full of teenagers. Of course， this was not an ideal place for Xili， but it was not that annoying. In fact， there were more adults than kids. Even through the masks， he could see the tired and perfunctory looks on their faces. After walking for two laps， Xili felt a little weight and direction on his feet， and the sense of trance was gone. The bear’s guidance was reasonable. Look， people’s life was like this. He began to find the small， lonely rental house worthwhile. Loneliness was his freedom and possession. Thus， he turned back and went home. The dusk syndrome was gradually cured in the growing darkness.

Moreover， the curative effect overflowed a little. That night， Xili worked on his illustration， scratching his head. After midnight， he would still think of the dancing dear from time to time. Its clumsy postures， its belly with the QR code， its long trouser legs piled on the feet and gray soles， as well as its transparent eyeballs with colorful lights. It was good to think about it， but he was a little discontented. If only they could see each other. If only he could see the real eyes inside. He didn’t care about its sex， age， appearance， personality， accent， or whether it was interesting. Or simply put， he rejected and denied its “human” nature. It was just a dancing bear. This was all he needed， and all it could give him.

Annual Selection of Chinese Women’s Literature

Zhang Li

Jiangsu Phoenix Literature and Art Publishing

March 2023

59.80 （CNY）

Zhang Li

Zhang Li is a professor and doctoral supervisor at the School of Chinese Language and Literature at Beijing Normal University. She is the deputy director of the Prose Committee of China Writers Association and a special researcher at the National Museum of Modern Chinese Literature.