The Pidgin Warrior

by Tianyi Zhang

The man stared at her hard: He suspected he might be dreaming. How, after all this time, this Woman Warrior of National Salvation is following the Path of Evil!

  Many men and women crowding around had heard Miss He’s comments, and they all applauded. Miss He’s gave her conclusion:

  “So we all gotta promote modern song and dance to save the nation!”

  Everyone shouted, “Long Live The Modern Patriotic Song and Dance Troupe!”

  Shi Zhaochang was dripping sweat as the tips of his fingers started to go cold.

  “Have I been seduced by the Path of Evil? Is she acting like she is evil on purpose to test me?”

  In a flash, he stood and, not caring about his situation, cried out, “Evil! Evil! This is evil! I must subdue it! I must…”

  When the others tried to drag him outside to watch China, I Love You, he dropped into a Horse Stance and refused to budge, so they just dumped him in the floor seating.

  He nearly fainted. Hands lifted up his swollen head. Someone seemed to be poking and prodding at his five viscera. He had gone from Miss He, the Woman Warrior of National Salvation, coming to his home, to the thrown mud-pellet, to handing over thirty dollars, to facing off lip to lip in a contest of skill, to that last evil speech.

  “Evil! Evil!” he spoke to himself feverishly. “The Woman Warrior looks down on me and did this on purpose. How did I fail her? What did I do wrong?”

  But he couldn’t figure out what he had done wrong no matter how he thought about it. He hadn’t failed her. He had done everything by the book: he loved her, that’s why he gave her the money, just like it was written in that Something Destiny book. Did he give her enough?

  Ah, how awkward!

  Lots of heads in the floor seating looked up and cheered. People stood and blocked the view of the stage and were shouted down by people behind them: “Sit down! Sit down!” They sat down grumbling.

  On stage, the girls gigglingly danced for a while, then, with strained voices, they belted to the audience, “China, I love you! I love you. I love you. I love your Maaaaaanchuria. Soooooo big. Soooooo wide. Tiny little JXpan—How could it coooompare-are-are. Hey! How could they coooompare…”

  All Shi Zhaochang could do was lower his head, close his eyes and suffer his thoughts. He heard a sudden noise. He thought it must be a howling cat, but gradually he was able to make out some words from the wailing.

  “Ah! It’s a woman crying for help!” He kept his eyes closed and listened with all his heart.

  That’s it! The sound of a woman being wronged and crying out for her life!

  Suddenly, in a flash, instantly—but none of those words can describe the speed. In any case, it was really really fast. He stood up. He took his stance, left hand over his eyes to guard against the light, eyes searching every corner up and down: He wanted to find where that call for help was coming from. He had to right the injustice.

  “Hey, buddy, sit down,” someone behind him tapped his lightly.

  Shi Zhaochang saw where the call was coming from: Ha! On the stage!

  “Oh, it’s a song,” He sat down gently.

  Onstage the bleating continued, “I love your Yangtze River…”

  That Great Man of Patriotic Music Mr. Hui was busy playing that foreign instrument, with snot running down and no time to wipe it. Only after he was finished did he pull out a colored handkerchief and wipe his nose and mouth, his face full of pride as he looked down from the stage.

  “That’s Evil! That!” Shi Zhaochang thought as pain rose in his heart. “No matter who it is. If it is fucking Evil, I Shi Zhaochang must…”

  Right then a good-looking man in a jade-green necktie called out a greeting from afar, and then he came near. Ah, it’s Liu Zhao.

  “I saw you earlier,” Liu Zhao greeted his with clasped hands. “This kind of song and dance is no good. Very inferior to what you would see abroad, isn’t that so?”

  He snorted with condescension.

  Liu Zhao leaned with his right hand on the back of the chair, rubbing his back with his left hand, all the while talking about the foreigners’ beautiful performances. Then he said that he planned on watching the rest of the performance and then he would invite Shi Zhaochang out for drinks. He had raised his voice quite loud, otherwise Shi Zhaochang wouldn’t have been able to hear him—the place was so noisy with people clapping and cheering, urging the curtain to open for the second act.

  Liu Zhao leaned close to Shi Zhaochang’s ear and shouted, “I’m incredibly lonely. Brother Zhaochang, would you be willing to accompany me for a tipple?”

  Shi Zhaochang could not cast away The Woman Warrior of National Salvation. But then again, he should deliberately cast her away. Was she actually Evil or not? He must not wrong a good person. But to be seduced by the Path of Evil wasn’t anything to take lightly either. Fine, fuck it, leave and deal with it later. Tomorrow he could look into it in detail.

  He lips trembled. “I’m bored to death too, I’m also… dammit, people trying to put one over on me… Fine, go drinking. Your place?”

  “My place, ah, the Campaign Against the Barbarians Fund Committee.”

  But Shi Zhaochang still hesitated. Should he let her know—tell that woman whose fate was tied up with his?

  “Fate!” When he thought of that word—fated enemy or fated lover—his face reddened. She loved him. But she seemed a little…

  “I won’t tell her!” He clenched his teeth. “If she is on the Path of Evil, she will understand me already…”

  He stood up with force and followed Liu Zhao out.

  It was strangely cold outside.

  As he two of them left the theatre several lower class people blocked them:

  “Sir, contribute some money?”

  Shi Zhaochang felt that something wasn’t right. Lower-class people by their nature were bad at heart. And moreover—They were demanding money! Today was so strange. Just now, The Woman Warrior of National Salvation was like that, and now…

  He placed all his force into his arms and declared:

  “What is all this then?”

  “We’re workers at the XX-run Hongfa Company. We want to destroy XX Imperialism, we want to give them a real… We want to go on strike…”

  Strike! It was another ploy of the Path of Evil!

  “Haha! Strike!” Shi Zhaochang laughed maliciously.

  “We want to go on strike to the end: no matter where it ends up. Against the Imperialist bastards to the very end… But we have to ask everyone for help, right now we don’t even have enough money for food…”

  They grit their teeth: without help, they would all starve to death, or else they couldn’t help but go back to work from hunger. It was not at the critical moment. They were flexing their arms, but their lips trembled.

  “If we don’t have ten copper each per day then we can’t struggle on. Without that, people will go back to work. If…If…”

  The person speaking looked around, trying to keep tears from falling. He bit his lip and his cheek twitched.

  The cold wind blew in like it had eyes, and Shi Zhaochang lifted the collar of his long gown to protect his neck. Liu Zhao put his two delicate hands in his pockets. They looked at each other. Neither knew how to handle this.

  “The elite families are also on a hunger strike to save the nation.” Liu Zhao muttered under his breath.

  Shi Zhaochang let all of the force from his arms where he had so recently put it. He had to figure this out. To go on a strike was the Path of Evil. But they were striking against the devils. Should he give them a few coins or not? He had to decide quickly: it was too cold to just stand around here.

  “This is the method of using Evil to fight the Path of Evil,” he argued to himself. “Perhaps it is the Jade Emperor using this Evil to destroy the devils.”

  Well then, he would do his part. He stuck out hi
s belly and patted it with his right hand. “I’m Shi Zhaochang. I, Shi Zhaochang have always distributed funds for noble causes, no matter how much, but you must explain everything clearly, yes. I must know precisely your background. If you explain everything clearly, then I, Shi Zhaochang shall donate—one mao, two—I couldn’t care less… Come now let us see. I ask you: The XX devils are of the Path of Evil, yes?”

  “What’s the Path of Evil?”

  Ah! They didn’t even know of the Path of Evil!

  “I ask you: Why is it that the XX devils have come to fight our China?”

  “There’re a few wretches that wanted to come to China to make foreign money.”

  Shi Zhaochang looked at them. There was something not quite right in the way they spoke. If they were Evil, Shi Zhaochang would need to subdue them here. He patiently continued his questions:

  “Are there good people among the XX devils?”

  One of them grinned in a flash: “There’s good ones and bad ones.”

  Another one broke in: “Last time they had the Town Hall Meeting, there were those two XX guys who gave a speech: They wanted to take down the XX Imperialist bastards too. They called us “brothers,” “Don’t fight our Chinese brothers.” ”

  Liu Zhao didn’t say anything but put on a bored expression and stood further away. He didn’t understand why Shi Zhaochang wanted go on with them: If someone they knew saw this what would they say?—grumbling inanities with those people like they were friends! But it was like a strong hand was pulling him closer, and he couldn’t help wanting to speak.

  He hadn’t thought it out properly yet though. It was good of course that Japan would soon be destroyed. They had riled themselves up into a real mess: Lots of people opposed the government, they were those unruly people. China had some rotten eggs too. That was dangerous. But…

  “They are splitting apart from within their nation. They will fall on their own.” He thought. That made him happy. But it would be too dangerous if those unruly people in China…

  He suddenly remembered that he was standing in front of those people in their tattered coats. Perhaps they were unruly. He drew his hands out of his coat pockets with force. He made a gesture:

  “That is the Ethnic Essence of the XX! Their Ethnic Essence is to be forever capricious. Some of them will want to “take down XX Imperialism,” but you can’t trust them. Those people are unruly people. As soon as people like that take over, this China of ours will be even more of a disaster. Our Chinese… Chinese…” His hands were cold. He put them back in his pockets. “Our China…China…If those unruly XX take over, we Chinese will also have to… There’ll be nothing good for us Chinese, don’t you see. Those devils all… They…so if those unruly XX devils take over China is done for, don’t you see. That’s why this… this… this…”

  The speaker stuck out his chest and fixed everyone with his gaze. He had suddenly remembered the phrase that orators used when they finished and stepped down from the stage. With a firm determination: “Our position is precisely this! There is nothing more!”

  Shi Zhaochang ended up talking about the strike with the men. This had to be the Will of Heaven using Evil to fight Evil. Who could say that the Jade Emperor might not have issued an edict, and the Will of Heaven must not be infringed. He reached into his pocket.

  “I, Shi Zhaochang, have always fought against injustice. I, Shi Zhaochang, distribute funds for noble causes. Remember this: The surname is Shi, called Shi Zhaochang. I bestow two mao in cash—Two mao! Hm, I ask you: do you publish a record of the names of the people who have donated in the papers?”

  “Published in the papers?”

  “Yes,” his right hand lingered in the pocket. “Who donates and how much, who donates and how much, the names should all be published, that plus gratitude.”

  “How would we have the money left to publish in the papers?”

  “That’s unacceptable. If you don’t publish it, the benefactors will have donated in vain: names must be made known to everyone.” Shi Zhaochang’s right hand moved in his pocket, and ten or so dozen pairs of eyes watched with keen attention for it to emerge: It did not.

  “The names must be published. Money is of no matter: Since time immemorial, I, Shi Zhaochang, have distributed funds for noble causes. Everyone knows this.” The right hand moved a bit but again, did not emerge. “I ask you: What is your name?”

  The one closest to him, holding the donation box looked at him. “I am Hou Changchun.”

  Shi Zhaochang rubbed his face. Of course, he used his left hand, as his right was still in his pocket.

  “I ask you: Whatever did you go to work in the devil’s factory for anyway? What did you do before?”

  Hou Changchun and the rest were trying to keep their patience. No matter what he was pulling, he had promised twenty cents. If they bought sesame cakes, that twenty cents could feed three or four people for a day. All they needed to do was swallow this, and they could fight to the end and wouldn’t have to go back to work. Hou Changchun forced down his temper and blew out a mouthful of air. He very carefully told what he used to do, but the tone of his voice was a little unnatural. His gaze was locked on the two gentlemen.

  “Before, I was a farmer in the countryside. If you would like to know the size of our land rental, each year…”

  A farmer! It was as if roiling steam suddenly boiled up in Shi Zhaochang’s belly, blowing his entire body into pieces. He gasped, and his eyes bulged as his teeth ground together.

  “Damnit, great! A Farmer!”

  He had never dealt with laborers: they had nothing to do with Good or Evil. All he wanted to do was fight a little injustice. But farmers! At the beginning of this year, they farmers were all… they were all…

  Shi Zhaochang recalled how his own family suffered at the hands of tenant farmers: the tenant farmers would go to the county to bring cases against the Shi Family, saying they were being abused. They would bring petitions too. They wouldn’t allow the Shi family to raise rent. They would descend like a swarm of wasps demanding the granary be opened to appease justice, and sometimes they would go straight to stealing rice. There was one of them that actually hung herself in the Shi Family compound which ended up in a murder suit.

  The Shi Family had suffered so much at the hands of farmers!

  Now there wasn’t a single good one among farmers, they are all depraved and degenerate! Farmers! How many of you used to be farmers?

  That is what he said in front of the man called Hou Changchun!

  Shi Zhaochang stared until his eyes started to ache. Veins started popping up all over his face. His lips paled. Suddenly he shouted out: He was normally somewhere between a bass and baritone, but this time his voice was a high tenor and when it came to his throat, it exited in a screech.

  “Evil! Bandits! You’ve caused me such suffering! Fuck a million generations of your ancestors!”

  In a flash, he stepped back a few paces, bent his legs and took a stance. His right hand came out of his pocket. There was nothing in it, but he was acting like he could use the Five Thunder Strike technique. He thrust out his head and hunched up his back. He stretched out his neck quite long, making the skin of his neck bizarrely taut.

  Liu Zhao was frightened—no, that’s not right, Liu Zhao didn’t have time to be frightened. Shi Zhaochang took up another stance: He advanced on Hou Changchun and the rest with a Form-Intention stride. As one foot stepped closer, his hand rose forward. He was about one step away from Hou Changchun, and Shi Zhaochang’s neck was stretching out even longer. His mouth tightly shut, he stared forcefully at Hou Changchun to the point that his eyeballs nearly popped out of their sockets. Staring like this, he ferociously leapt out.

  His opponent had fled a very long time before this point.

  That is to say that Shi Zhaochang leapt into thin air. Shi Zhaochang then leapt into a wall. His own fe
rocity then fell upon his own body, and he then fell to the ground.

  A massive bump started to raise on the top of his head.

  Everything in front of his eyes swayed back and forth. There were little colored bits of paper flying everywhere. They danced in the electric lights.

  What? This is…

  They used Evil sorcery! Ah!

  He had to reach down and use his true power: The Supreme Ultimate Master taught him the incantations that could dispel evil magic, but The Supreme Ultimate Master told him that he couldn’t use such power casually. “Only as a last resort, don’t you know. For example, if you are fighting the devils, then you can use this magic.”

  “Dammit!” Shi Zhaochang pulled himself up, and using that high-pitched voice, “You used Evil sorcery! Evil sorcery! Your damned old man will show you something…”

  He balled up his fists and started punching out toward Hou Changchun and the rest with all his might.

  Liu Zhao tried to hold him back, but couldn’t. Liu Zhao grabbed him from behind. “Brother Zhaochang, stop fighting, stop fighting, Brother Zhaochang!”

  “Let me go. I have to beat those evil ones who go against goodness, I have to beat them to death!” With a great twist, Shi Zhaochang and Liu Zhao both tumbled to the ground.

  Many people had gathered around to watch the commotion. Police who were on post came over too. They lifted Shi Zhaochang and Liu Zhao up to stand, and blocked Shi Zhaochang, not letting him show his skill again.

  “What’s going on, what’s going on?”

  “What’re they doin? Whoa-ho, Beating up some playboy!”

  “I have to go and beat those evil-doers to death! They used Evil sorcery, look!”

  “We asked him for a donation. Nothing at all, for no reason, he started attacking us. We didn’t even… absolutely nothing…”

  Liu Zhao looked at the patrolmen and raised his voice, “You workhands—they started the fight!”

  “What? We attacked him? It was him…”

  “Shut your blabbering!” The policeman interrupted them. Turning to Liu Zhao, “You are…”

  “They attacked us!”