Her words startled Lai Shun; for a little while he was speechless. When she pressed him for an answer, he replied, “I don’t know for certain! I haven’t actually seen them. You’re a handsome woman; how could your husband behave disgracefully?”
“You stay at school day and night; please keep an eye on him,” Darky urged. “This is a secret between you and me. Don’t mention it to anyone—I don’t want to become a laughingstock.”
Lai Shun nodded and watched her leave, sighing sadly.
After supper one evening, as Darky was turning to carry water from the river, she met Lai Shun squatting on the bank, washing clothes. He seemed to have something to tell her but swallowed it.
“Are you keeping me in the dark about something?” she asked.
Lai Shun looked sheepish; he opened and then closed his mouth.
Darky said, “As the saying goes, you can see only skin, but not bone. I didn’t expect that you were that kind of guy, too!”
Finally, lowering his head, Lai Shun told her how her small husband had had a fling for a long time with a woman in the town. After that woman turned her back on him, he’d recently picked up the mayor’s youngest daughter. That very evening the girl had come to the school again and had not even tried to be discreet. Lai Shun had seen her enter the gym teacher’s well-lit office and soon after had seen the light go out.
Darky’s body recoiled. She felt dizzy.
“I shouldn’t have told you,” Lai Shun said. “But my conscience wouldn’t let me keep quiet. Never mind. After all, he is your husband—and that girl’s father is the mayor. They wouldn’t dare go too far.”
Darky silently carried her water home.
At the village gate, she drew the carrying pole off her shoulder and spilled the water into the buckets, then fell to the ground, sobbing.
Darky had always suspected it—but now that she knew for certain, she couldn’t contain her anger. She rushed to the school alone; Lai Shun was not back yet. The school appeared pitch dark.
Darky felt a little scared. True, her husband and the girl were acting most shamefully. But if she walked in on them together, the girl might be so disgraced that she’d hang or drown herself. I shouldn’t rush in, Darky thought. As long as I can split them up, that will be enough. My man is so timid, and the girl will be ashamed; we’d still be able to live together as a couple.
Standing in the school yard, she called to her small husband. He called back that he’d already gone to bed and she should talk to him the next day. So Darky made up a story: “Your dad sent me to tell you he needs you urgently. Get up quickly! I’ll wait in the outhouse.” She wanted to give the girl a chance to flee unnoticed, so she walked straight to the backyard toilet.
When she returned to the yard, the light in her husband’s room was on. She entered and found her small husband smoking on the bed; the quilts were rumpled, and sweet incense was burning. He asked frostily, “What the hell is so urgent? Can’t you wait till daybreak?”
Darky replied, “Can’t I even come here to see you? You haven’t been home for days. Aren’t we still a couple?”
“You came here just to say that? Are you finished? Go home.”
As Darky got up to leave, she heard something behind the cabinet. She looked down and saw two feet, small and exquisite. With a snort, Darky sat back down and stared fixedly at her husband. “Tonight, I will not leave. Fetch me a glass of water.”
Her husband understood her intention and put a glass of water before her. She asked for another, and again he obeyed. Then she said calmly, in the direction of the cabinet, “Come out, drink some water. A little hot water won’t hurt you.”
A girl with a bewitchingly beautiful face sauntered out from behind the cabinet. She had disheveled hair and pink underwear.
Darky could not restrain a flash of admiration. “Such a knockout!”
The woman did not blush. Sitting beside the bed, she fixed her eyes on the ceiling without a trace of shame. Darky, on the other hand, turned pale. “You’re awfully bold!” Rage boiled up within her, but she calmed herself, saying, “I won’t beat you two, nor will I curse you. I only beg you not to destroy our family. If this affair were to be exposed, it wouldn’t do any of us any good. So drink the water and go!”
The woman dressed and started to walk out. At the doorway she turned back to pick up a small jar of face cream from the table. Then she was gone.
But Darky’s husband and his mistress did not change their ways. They stuck to each other like glue and continued their wrongful behavior. Darky came to regret the tolerance she’d shown that night.
She fought repeatedly with her husband about it. Backed by his father’s financial resources and the mayor’s power and authority, Darky’s small husband now carried on flagrantly. It was agonizing for Darky. She tearfully turned to Lai Shun for comfort, and Lai Shun in return shed tears for her suffering.
One market day, the weather was cold, the ground frozen. While Darky, shivering, was buying some charcoal, she ran into Mu Du. He was jet black all over, looking like a hungry devil. “Darky,” he said, surprised to see her. “You are so skinny—are you OK?”
Remembering when Mu Du had given her a hot potato beside the wall, Darky softened and began to cry. Mu Du said kindly, “So what the villagers are saying is true. Your man has bullied and humiliated you?” He asked for details. It took some time before Darky could give voice to what had happened.
That afternoon, Mu Du found Lai Shun and let loose a stream of abuse, saying that Lai Shun should not have told Darky about her husband’s affair. Lai Shun felt wrongly attacked; he complained that his conscience wouldn’t allow him to keep quiet.
Mu Du replied, “Your conscience? The credit agent’s son was born a bad guy. Can a leopard change its spots? You told Darky everything and made her live like neither a human being nor a devil. Look how thin she has become. Is your conscience at ease now?”
Lai Shun was speechless. The two men racked their brains but could not come up with an idea to lift Darky out of her misery.
Mu Du cursed the credit agent and his son for being blind in their eyes and their hearts. However, they were in the mayor’s good graces. Who knew how much ill-gotten money the credit agent had sent him.
Lai Shun had an idea: “We can take the firewood from under the cauldron just by settling with the girl! If she’s too ashamed to go to the school, Darky’s man will no longer be a problem.”
That night, Lai Shun and Mu Du wore masks and took their positions near the school—Lai Shun on sentry duty and Mu Du lying still beside the road. As the mayor’s daughter approached, Mu Du tackled her, grabbed her tightly, and punched her. Finally, he scratched her delicate face, saying, “Since you don’t want to save this face, let me take the skin off!”
The mayor’s daughter had been attacked, but only she and the small husband knew why. They could not speak about it in public. The girl told her father that a man had blocked her path and tried to rape her. The mayor ordered the local police to investigate.
When questioned, the girl said she thought the criminal’s voice sounded like Mu Du’s. Mu Du was promptly taken into custody. He confessed to the charge but revealed his reason for jumping the girl. As a result, the local police station did not pass the case up to the county bureau, nor did they release Mu Du right away. Under the mayor’s orders, Mu Du was kept behind bars for fifteen days.
3
Before long, the small man divorced Darky and married the mayor’s daughter.
Though she was no longer a part of the upstart family, Darky did not move away. She gathered her pride and refused to accept a single thing from her former husband. She returned to the village and bunked in a cowshed in the fields. Hearing the news, her elder brother came to her and lamented, “My poor sister!”
Darky asked, “Why do you cry? Have I done anything shameful?” At that, her brother’s tears stopped. Instead he complained that she had exchanged her comfortable life for a life of misery. He want
ed to bring her back to their parents’ home. Darky refused. “I would rather stay to see what other tricks they might play!”
In the daytime, Darky cultivated with great care the field assigned to her. She became a jack-of-all-trades in farmwork and a match even for a strong man. In the evening, she tended the kitchen fire and cooked for herself. Despite her brother’s laments, Darky lived a comfortable and carefree life. She swept the withered grass dust beside the road and burned this fuel to heat the kang; lying in bed was like lying in a pan upon the stove. She used to think that without a man, a woman was like a vine that had no sturdy tree to lean on or a kite without a string. But it turned out that a woman was also human and could live vigorously on her own!
Lai Shun often came over and helped her chop wood and fetch water or simply chatted with her. Darky would offer him a meal or a cup of tea. At dusk, she would always say, “You’d better go. Rumors cluster around a divorcée’s door!” But Lai Shun didn’t care.
One day he’d dropped in as usual. He told Darky that her former husband’s family had just made a great deal of money when the credit agent bought a share of a straw-bag factory. They both sighed over the unfairness of life.
Darky asked, “Is the new couple living a happy life?”
Lai Shun answered, “Money makes the mare go! The woman is pregnant; they’ll have a baby within the year.”
Darky stared blankly at the mountains on the other side of the river, but she was unaware of the clouds in the sky and the smog above the faraway village. Lai Shun couldn’t tell what was on her mind; Darky wasn’t sure herself. When she finally sent Lai Shun away, a thin, faint smile played around the corners of her mouth.
In the village, rumor had it that Lai Shun was making a move on Darky. When Darky eventually heard the idle chatter, it made her heart heavy. Combing her hair in the morning, she looked in the mirror and saw just a face—dark, but smoother than before. Surprised to find herself neither old nor ugly, Darky said to herself, can’t I be left alone and single? At this thought, her cheeks flushed. She felt something unspeakable in her heart.
When Lai Shun came again, Darky paid special attention to his face. His voice made her ears itch.
However, it was Mu Du who appeared in her mind and stubbornly stayed there. During Mu Du’s fifteen days in jail, his old father brought him meals. Once, on his way to visit his son, the old man had stumbled over a stone and fallen. The food pot was broken, and the porridge spilled on the ground. Knowing that an old man of his age had sat on the ground crying, Darky felt like a knife had stabbed into her heart.
On the day Mu Du was released, she went to see him and was startled at his thick beard and pale face. He told her, “Darky, I didn’t mean to do you any harm.”
But since she’d moved into the cowshed, Mu Du had not visited. Did he still feel that he had let her down and felt too ashamed to visit? Or had he begun gathering alpine rush from the deep mountain instead of carrying charcoal?
During one of Lai Shun’s visits, while Darky was lost in her thoughts, he cleverly heaved a sigh and said, “That heartless bastard abandoned you; he is blind in his eyes and his heart! He said you were ugly, but he was wrong; you are a wonderful woman. You needn’t worry about forming a new family.”
Darky’s face changed. She smiled but cut Lai Shun short. He left soon after, indulging in fantasy. Lai Shun wore old and shabby clothes, but he was always washed and clean-shaven. He’d even chatted and traded jokes with Darky’s ex-husband a few times.
As the autumn rain fell, Darky’s newfound vigor began to wilt. Sitting on the edge of the kang, she watched bubbles appearing and vanishing in the puddles outside. Darky pictured, farther away, the river and then the range upon range of mountains. She had just a smattering of education and no knowledge of things like poetry, but there was a touch of poetry in her heart. A gloomy mood consumed her. It made her nostalgic for the autumn rains of her childhood at her parents’ house, and even for the days she’d spent in her small husband’s home. Thinking about how wretched and miserable her life was now, she buried her face in her hands and sat that way for some time as dusk fell.
Listening to the harsh sound of raindrops falling relentlessly on the roof, she recalled what had happened after her divorce. She remembered all the matchmakers and so many men, including Lai Shun. At the time they had all been just illusions, nuisances she hoped would not return.
In the rain, Darky ventured out to check on a plot of land near the river that she’d just begun to cultivate. She had planted radishes there; would the seedlings be washed away by the flooding river? The rain was letting up, but the wind was still strong.
Darky looked carefully. The radishes were well rooted, and the river had not risen too much. But the surging water flew by shiny and rapid. Suddenly, in the distance, a fire glittered and then extinguished in a wink. Darky stared and saw a light-reddish spot on the other side of the river. It looked like a fox’s eye, appearing one second and disappearing the next. She heard the rushing of the water and, after a moment of silence, a slight creaking sound over the sands.
Fearing a ghost, Darky held her breath. She watched a shadow approaching, and she could eventually make out a man wading across the river, carrying alpine rush on his shoulders. From the sturdy build and clumsy steps, Darky recognized him and shouted, “Mu Du!”
Mu Du, startled, nearly fell. The cigarette butt between his lips streaked dark red and disappeared. Once he saw it was Darky, Mu Du laughed while he put on his trousers. But his laugh had a strange ripping sound.
“You brave the river on such a stormy day?” Darky asked. “The current could sweep you away!”
Mu Du replied, “I’ve collected a full load of alpine rush. I have to hurry home through the night—otherwise I’d be trapped and starve to death in the mountains. How daring you are to come here at night by yourself! Why don’t you stay safely at home?”
“I’ve come to check on the radishes, to make sure they aren’t washed away by the flood.”
“Come to my house for radishes,” Mu Du said. “This year, our radishes are growing well—white and long. You can have as much as you can eat!”
“Why should I take yours?” Her question confused Mu Du. Realizing he was facing a young divorcée, his warmth seemed to sink into the water and could not resurface. He asked roughly, “So, Darky, you haven’t found a man yet? How can you keep it up, living alone all this time? Be sharp-eyed and marry a man who really cares for you!”
Darky felt her face grow warm. Her body seemed deliciously tired. She leaned against a willow tree on the bank.
They fell into an awkward silence, each focusing on the river, the willows, the opposite bank, with occasional furtive glances at each other. The yapping of a wild hound in the distance cleared Darky’s mind. She said, “Let’s go back.” The way home was equally silent, and Mu Du felt the load on his shoulders grow heavier.
Ten days later, a matchmaker found Darky. A man had offered 300 yuan as a betrothal gift to marry her. When Darky asked who the man was, the matchmaker told her it was Lai Shun.
Darky noted to herself, he has the guts to do it! But she was alarmed and confused. The matchmaker argued, “Indeed he is poor, but he looks presentable. More importantly, he’s not from around here—so after the wedding the two of you can leave this place. When you’re out of sight of your ex-husband’s family, then your ex-husband will be out of your mind!”
“I’m the daughter of a poor family,” Darky replied. “So I mind his poverty. Anyway, I intend to stay here. I’ll try to make my own living and keep up with my ex-husband’s family.”
Annoyed, the matchmaker said, “You talk nonsense! That family has now joined with the rich and powerful mayor. What can you do to them?”
“I won’t do anything to them—but justice will!”
“How stupid you are,” said the matchmaker. “No wonder your life is unhappy. Do you know what justice is? Justice is a baked potato: if you’re familiar with it, it will
be soft; if not, it will be hard.”
“Is there no fairness in the world?” Darky asked.
The matchmaker returned to the topic at hand. “So, you are not pleased with Lai Shun? But there’s clearly chemistry between you when you’re together. Why the reluctance to marry him?”
Darky said, “What connection do I have with Lai Shun?” Finding no common ground, the matchmaker left. Darky was full of pent-up anger.
Soon after, another go-between came to Darky’s house and proposed a marriage with Mu Du. Darky snorted with laughter: “All the bachelors are coming to me!”
The go-between said she had been approached by Mu Du’s old father. Mu Du said that Darky was perfect, but he was too shy to tell her how he felt. The go-between had planned to bring Mu Du along, but halfway there he had wrapped his arms around a tree and refused to let go no matter how hard she pulled.
Hearing that, Darky could not help giggling—but then tears appeared in her eyes. Her voice choked. She lay on the kang with a heavy heart. Thinking Darky was against the idea, the go-between said, “You know Mu Du’s family. Admittedly he is poor, but he is good-hearted. Besides, you came to grief on account of a wealthy family. Granted, his appearance is not outstanding—but he is sincere and kindly. If a man is handsome, he may have a wild heart and never be satisfied.”
The go-between continued to make her case. “I heard that Lai Shun offered three hundred yuan as a betrothal gift, so Mu Du will give three hundred fifty yuan! I’ll just leave it here on the cabinet.” And the go-between left. Darky grabbed the money and ran after her but failed to catch up. She returned home and sat in a daze till midnight.
Darky married Mu Du after the wheat sowing. On their wedding day, Mu Du sported a newly shaved head and chin, and he wore a length of red silk around his waist and a brand-new cap. He invited relatives and neighbors to enjoy the wedding feast and drink in the courtyard. After several drinks with his guests, Mu Du grew unsteady. He was not a good drinker. He wildly urged his guests to eat and drink more, shouting, “How can three bowls be enough? I take two bowls for a snack! Have some more!”
Old Land, New Tales: Twenty Short Stories by Writers of the Shaanxi Region in China Page 6