The Explosion Chronicles

by Yan Lianke

  “Let’s just leave it like this. For better or worse, he did live and walk this earth, so let’s leave his gravestone as it is.” From that point on, the gravestone stood at a precarious angle, as though it were about to topple over. Kong Dongde felt that the grave and tombstone were somehow more acceptable this way, as though Zhu Qingfang was forever bowing down before him. It was as though Zhu Qingfang’s grave was abandoned. Every morning Kong Dongde would get up and go down to the village square to do these things—thinking about the good fortune his family had enjoyed. Kong Dongde’s eldest son was now a teacher and was now the assistant principal at an elementary school; his second son was the village chief and the emperor of the village; his third son was in the army, and, although not a general, he was nevertheless a security officer for his regiment, and sooner or later he would surely be promoted to cadre; and his fourth son was enrolled in high school in the city, receiving excellent grades, and would soon take the college admissions exams.

  With luck, he would be able to pass the exams easily.

  Kong Dongde had absolutely nothing to complain about. Had Zhu Qingfang’s daughter not gone into the city to earn money to buy a house, and had the town mayor (who was also someone who should have met with misfortune) not erected an enormous stele in front of the village, there would not have been a single thing in this life that would have given Kong Dongde any displeasure.

  Several months earlier, Mayor Hu Dajun had erected this enormous stele for Zhu Ying, the first line of which read, TO GET RICH, LEARN FROM EXPLOSION, while the second read, TAKE ZHU YING AS A MODEL. However, Zhu Ying was herself a resident of Explosion and therefore should be under the direction of the village chief—which is to say, Kong Dongde’s son, Kong Mingliang. But this made Kong Dongde feel as though there were a needle pricking his throat. He naturally couldn’t simply go knock down the stele the mayor had erected, and furthermore Mayor Hu could very well end up being promoted to county mayor. So Kong Dongde had no recourse but to blur out the inscription on the tombstone that had been erected in the name of the father of that whore, Zhu Ying. Moreover, he had to settle for blurring out the inscription on the nearly overturned tombstone of that whore’s father, because he naturally couldn’t blur out the inscription on the enormous stele the mayor had erected.

  In the end, Kong Dongde felt that everything was again as it should be, and it was as though that bone in his throat had been removed.

  He exercised in front of that grave, humming a tune while swinging his arms and legs around. He did this every day, coming every morning to announce his feeling of victory and delight to the person in the grave. On this particular morning, however, as he was exercising in the square, he suddenly noticed that the winter jasmine had not yet begun flowering, even though it was already the end of the third lunar month; and while there were a handful of willows that had begun to bud, those buds had already dried up and the hint of green had retreated to the very center of the branch.

  Kong Dongde felt rather unnerved by this.

  He remembered that when Mingliang returned from his meeting in the provincial seat the previous day, he had mentioned that both the county and the town wanted to initiate a reform movement. They wanted to use Explosion as a model and have the villagers hold an election for village chief. At the thought that Zhu Ying might be elected, however, Kong Dongde’s heart skipped a beat and his arm froze in midair. He turned to look at Zhu Qingfang’s grave, then listened as the two mynah birds squawked, “I’m better than you! I’m better than you!” He nodded and exchanged a few words with villagers who passed by, accepting everyone’s greetings and well-wishes. Then he completed his exercises and walked over toward Zhu Qingfang’s grave.

  After waiting until no one was around, he proceeded to urinate on the grave, peeing all over the area where Zhu Qingfang’s face would have been. Then he put on his clothes, picked up the two “I’m better then you!” mynah birds, and returned home.

  II.

  There was indeed an election.

  On the ballot provided by the town there were two names: Kong Mingliang and that whore, Zhu Ying!

  Kong Mingliang had bags under his eyes. He rushed to the town and the county seat, and bought a lot of wine and expensive cigarettes to give away. It turned out, however, that there was no way to change things. There would be an election, and one of the candidates would in fact be that person who had opened the Worldly Pleasures brothel in the city and the provincial seat. As a result, Kong Mingliang and Zhu Ying would inevitably collide on this narrow path to the village chiefdom, and only one of them would succeed. From the break of dawn until the sun was high in the sky, Kong Mingliang struggled to predict who in the three villages would vote for him and who would vote for Zhu Ying. He understood that every family in Explosion was like a watertight bucket and family members would definitely vote for whomever they said they would. He ripped two empty pages from his brother Minghui’s school notebook, and on one sheet he wrote Village Chief followed by his own name, and on the other sheet he wrote Whore followed by Zhu Ying’s name. He calculated from Explosion Village to Liu Gully, and then from Liu Gully to Zhang Peak, and after he tabulated his totals he concluded that most of the residents of Explosion would vote for him, though most of the residents of Liu Gully and Zhang Peak would vote for Zhu Ying. He was the one who had enabled Explosion to grow wealthy, while she was the one who had enabled those other two villages to achieve prosperity. By Mingliang’s calculations, there were 105 households and a total of 525 individuals who would vote for him, while there were 165 households and a total of 825 individuals who would vote for Zhu Ying.

  So, it appeared that he would lose.

  Kong Mingliang threw away those two sheets of paper and walked out into the courtyard. He stood there for a moment, but when he looked back he saw that those two sheets of paper were fluttering in the air like white funeral paper. Then, those two sheets became rain clouds, floating for a while before drifting away. He turned his face toward the sun overhead and, frowning, repeatedly wet his lips with his tongue. As Mingliang was worrying about the election, his father emerged from his bedroom, and when he arrived at the doorway he saw the birdcage hanging outside. He came over and stood in front of his son, and asked,

  “Do you realize you won’t be elected village chief?”

  Kong Mingliang looked at this father without saying a word.

  Kong Dongde handed his son two sheets of paper covered in writing. Mingliang took the sheets and saw with surprise that they were also labeled Village Chief Kong Mingliang and Whore Zhu Ying, respectively. On the sheet labeled Village Chief, there were the names of some of the households in each village, and below, written in red: “Total: 105 households, or 535 individuals.” On the sheet labeled Whore, there was an even longer list of names of households, below which, in red: “Total: 165 households, or 825 individuals.”

  This was identical to Kong Mingliang’s own calculations.

  Kong Mingliang stared in shock at those two sheets of paper, until finally his father asked, “Given that you won’t be elected village chief, do you know what you need to do to be elected?” It was only at that point that Mingliang snapped out of his daze. He simultaneously nodded and shook his head. In a fog, he seemed to hear the words “Come with me,” then saw his father turn around and head back to his bedroom. His hunched shoulders resembled a pair of balls rolling forward. Mingliang followed in his father’s footsteps, into his father’s room.

  III.

  In accordance with their father’s arrangements, the Kong family sprang into action. They rode a tractor into the county seat to purchase malted milk, crackers, cigarettes, and wine, and when they returned they distributed cigarettes and wine to all of the heads of household who smoked and drank, and gave health supplements to some of the elders. Mingliang himself also went out, accompanied by his elder brother Kong Mingguang and his fourth brother Kong Minghui. Together, the three of them visited the families of those villagers who had lost their lives
unloading goods from the trains. In the families’ homes, they placed the gifts on the table, exchanged some pleasantries, and then Mingliang said very bluntly,

  “When it comes time to vote for village chief, I hope your family will vote for me.

  “At the end of the day, we are all Kongs, and it is ultimately better for a Kong to serve as village chief than for an outsider.

  “The plot of land on which your home rests is somewhat smaller than everyone else’s. Once I’m elected, the first thing I’ll do will be to grant you a larger plot.”

  The brothers went to visit another family, and similarly offered them gifts and exchanged a few pleasantries, then asked, “Are your parents still bedridden? Why don’t we send them to the hospital!” Irrespective of what the illness happened to be, they carefully propped up the invalid and assigned someone to take him to the hospital for an exam, while also providing the family with money to cover the medical expenses.

  After visiting all of the households in Explosion, the Kong family split up to visit the families in Liu Gully and Zhang Peak. In order to convince everyone to vote for Mingliang, Kong Dongde and three of his sons rode to battle. Kong Dongde unloaded the tractor-full of gifts on the mountain ridge road. He told his eldest son, Mingguang, to go pay a visit to all of the families with school-age children and told Mingliang to visit the families whose daughters had followed Zhu Ying into the city. Meanwhile, Kong Dongde himself went to visit those families with sick elders, and he told Minghui to stay on the mountain ridge to keep an eye on the remaining gifts and wait for them to return.

  Kong Mingliang went to visit a family whose daughter had followed Zhu Ying into the city. As soon as he entered the courtyard, he saw the newly constructed residence and exclaimed, “Great house! Great house!” He proceeded inside and looked around both upstairs and downstairs, then suggested to the family where they could install a water faucet and put in a couch. Finally, he sat down in the living room and sipped tea from a large teacup the home’s owner brought him. Smiling, Mingliang made small talk, and once his hosts were in good spirits, he went in for the kill, saying,

  “Do you know what your daughter is doing in the provincial seat?”

  Neither of the parents responded.

  Kong Mingliang said sternly, “She is working as a whore! For her to have to work as a prostitute is worse than our going to the train tracks behind the mountain to unload goods. Please vote for me for village chief. Once I’m elected, the first thing I’ll do is bring your daughter back from the city and help her find a good job—a job that will be easy, respectable, and well-paying. Then I’ll help her find a husband from a good family, so that she’ll live out her days in comfort!”

  The parents were both embarrassed and deeply moved. The look of anguish on their faces gradually softened and they agreed to vote for Kong Mingliang, explaining that although their family had become wealthier and they were able to live in a new house, their feeling of resentment toward the daughter of the Zhu family could never be erased. Upon leaving this family’s home, Kong Mingliang offered the couple some additional suggestions and promises, then went back up to the ridge to fetch gifts for the next family. Because the next family was more cultured and dignified, Kong Mingliang didn’t go in for the kill as he had done with the first family, and instead looked over the house and the yard, and repeatedly complimented his hosts. Finally, he sat down to chat and told them that they mustn’t believe others who claimed that their daughter was in the city following Zhu Ying’s example and engaging in dissolute activities. He said he had recently been in the city and had seen their daughter, and that she was working in a factory and had relied on her skills and labor to earn enough money for her parents to build a new house. The parents maintained a dignified expression and said that they never believed their daughter could engage in those sorts of activities either, given that she had, after all, received a good upbringing.

  “But it is true that Zhu Ying has engaged in these sorts of dissolute activities,” Mingliang asserted. “It is definitely the case that Zhu Ying is a whore, though for some reason the higher-ups still permit her to be a candidate for village chief.”

  “No one will vote for her,” the family said emphatically. “We, at any rate, wouldn’t vote for her even if our lives depended on it.”

  In this way, this family was accounted for, and it was certain that the members would vote for Mingliang. He therefore left them and approached the gate of another new home, grasped the owner’s hand, and pleaded for her help, then headed back to the mountain ridge. In the truck, the Kongs originally had one gift for each family, and there were still some gifts left. It was another two or three days until the election and, taking advantage of the fact that Zhu Ying had not yet returned, Mingliang rushed to distribute the remaining gifts. He ended up visiting every family that had originally been planning to vote for Zhu Ying, and in this way Explosion would become the Kong family’s, and Kong Mingliang would be able to realize his life’s dream.

  IV.

  On a mountain path between Liu Gully and Zhang Peak, Kong Minghui waited as his father and brothers repeatedly returned to the tractor to fetch more gifts—as though waiting for the sun to rise and set. He felt that the colorful gifts in the trunk of the tractor, which were still in their original bags, resembled a flock of sparrows locked in a cage. He wanted to set these sparrows free so they could fly home and so that he, too, could return home to finish his homework. He actually wasn’t interested in passing the college entrance exams, but when he did well on his homework and his teacher held up his assignment and praised him to the rest of the class, he felt as though this were a form of bribery. Although he would usually bow his head in embarrassment, afterward his classmates would gaze at him enviously. Their envy made him feel reassured, and even joyful. He was still young and had not yet begun worrying about practical matters like establishing a family, and a career. He didn’t yet have a trace of facial hair, and his classmates who had already hit puberty all said that he looked like a girl, as white and pure as a girl’s untouched breasts.

  He was this sort of a child, a typical middle-school student.

  When Kong Minghui returned home on the weekend to get some more grain money, he found his father and elder brothers busy preparing for the election. His eldest brother, who was twelve years older, was a teacher. Minghui felt he could talk most easily with his eldest brother, since they were both in a school. But when Minghui asked, “Does Second Brother really need to be village chief?,” Mingguang merely stared at him in surprise and asked in return, “If Second Brother doesn’t keep his position as village chief, how will Explosion end up belonging to the Kong family?”

  Kong Minghui didn’t understand what relation there was between Second Brother’s becoming village chief and Minghui’s own studies or Eldest Brother’s teaching, but he nevertheless recognized that this was what their father most desired and what Second Brother was most excited about. Minghui therefore agreed to accompany his father and brothers and take a carful of gifts to a mountain path between Liu Gully and Zhang Peak. He looked at those two villages separated by a ridge and saw that virtually every house was a brand-new building with a tile roof. By this point, spring had arrived but green growth had not yet begun to appear along this mountain ridge, and those new buildings resembled splotches of paint on a blank canvas. Minghui simply couldn’t understand how those villages had grown wealthy so fast, and that now everyone had money and was strolling around in the latest fashions.

  Indeed, everyone in Explosion was so interested in earning more money that no one seemed willing to slow down, and instead the villagers ran around frantically all day long. Everything was done in a mad rush, and only the mountain range and the sky itself remained peaceful and unchanging. Kong Minghui rested quietly in the mountains, either sitting by the side of the road watching the beetles and sparrows in the fields, or climbing into the driver’s seat of the tractor and gazing at the instrument panel, the clutch, and the hand
brake. He continued fiddling with those instruments until he saw his father and brothers returning from Liu Gully and Zhang Peak with broad smiles on their faces. Only then did he notice that the trunk was now completely empty and all of the gifts had been given away. He then hopped down from the cab.

  It appeared he had fallen asleep there.

  Seeing the delighted expressions on his family’s faces, Minghui exclaimed happily, “Are you done? If so, we can go and get a good meal.” It was unusual for them to be in such high spirits, and they were confident their family would retain control over Explosion—to the point that if Mingliang didn’t give the word, the wind wouldn’t blow and the grass wouldn’t sway. So, they went to a restaurant called Xiangcui Pavilion, which was located in front of the village board headquarters. There were other villagers at the restaurant, including many young people, and the room was filled with the white aroma of alcohol and the bright red scent of fresh meat. When the other villagers saw Mingliang, they remarked angrily that they would burn down the house of anyone who dared vote for Zhu Ying. Mingliang then glared at them and asked, “How dare you? Don’t you know what democracy is?” The villagers didn’t utter a word, and instead they just stared at him. Kong Dongde then called his sons over to eat, whereupon they all gratefully sat down. They let Minghui order the food, saying that since he was doing well in his studies he could order whatever he wanted. Minghui ordered many dishes and said they could pack up what they didn’t finish and take it home. Kong Mingliang, meanwhile, looked over the menu, then went to the counter and examined the restaurant’s collection of wine and beverages. The restaurant owner was the wife of one of the villagers who had fallen to his death unloading goods from the train, which is why she had been granted permission to open a restaurant directly across from the village board headquarters. Business at the restaurant was good—as though it had wedding banquets every day—and the profits rolled in. The owner had been devastated by her husband’s death, and Mingliang had arranged for her to open this restaurant. When Mingliang and his family came to eat, the owner acted as though the emperor himself had arrived—and seeing Mingliang at the counter looking over the restaurant’s wines, she came over and said,