Brothers

by Yu Hua

  The formerly polite and refined Poet Zhao had become angry and cynical, always cursing up a storm. While C Liu was living amid a bevy of beauties, Zhao didn't have a single woman in his life and had to settle for hanging an old pinup poster on the crumbling wall of his dilapidated apartment and staring at it ravenously, like a man who paints a cake to assuage his hunger. There was not a living woman who was willing to look him in the eye, and even when he once tried to chat up some old widows, they saw through his ruse and told him straight up that he should first figure out how to provide for himself before entertaining thoughts of finding a companion. Zhao became extremely depressed. Many years earlier he had had an elegant and attractive girlfriend, and the two had enjoyed a yearlong loving relationship, but then he tried to straddle two boats simultaneously as he pursued Lin Hong, and as a result, not only did he not secure Lin Hong but his girlfriend ran off with someone else.

  Meanwhile, after C Liu's former wife was cast off, although she was very satisfied with the million yuan she had in her bank account, she would nevertheless stand in the street crying woefully, complaining that C Liu was heartless and cruel. She would again hold up all ten fingers, though now of course what she was counting was not the number of times they had slept together but, rather, the matrimonial bliss they had shared over twenty years of marriage. She said that over the past twenty years she had cooked for C Liu and washed his clothes and looked after him through good times and bad. After C Liu was laid off and became unemployed, she didn't leave him but, rather, cared for him even more considerately. She said that her body was like a stove in winter, warming him up, and like an ice cube in the summer, cooling him down. She tearfully complained that his entire being was obsessed with money, just as his mind was obsessed with sex. She said that, in the past, he had been a high-minded writer, walking elegantly and speaking with refinement. She had fallen in love with him and married him because he was Writer Liu, but now that Writer Liu no longer existed, her husband no longer existed either.

  At that point, one of her listeners remembered Poet Zhao and, in an attempt to play the role of a pimp, said, "Although it's true that Writer Liu doesn't exist anymore, there is still Poet Zhao, who has not yet married. He's a bachelor about to approach his diamond anniversary— a rare gem."

  "Poet Zhao? A rare gem?" She snorted a couple of times. "He wouldn't even stand out in a bachelor remainder sale."

  Liu's wife considered herself one of Liu Town's rich maidens, and for someone to mention her and that poor bachelor Zhao in the same breath was profoundly humiliating for her. She angrily added, "Even an old hen wouldn't deign to give him a second glance."

  Poet Zhao, to whom even an old hen wouldn't give a second glance, would often come in and out of Popsicle Wangs five-star reception booth and sit on Wangs Italian sofa, caress his French cabinet, and lie down in the German bed, and if he happened to have a chance to wash and dry his butt in the TOTO toilet, he naturally wouldn't pass that up either. Zhao was very complimentary of the giant high-definition plasma television Wang had hung on the wall. He said that it was several millimeters thinner than the poetry collection he was preparing to publish and that the number of television programs it played was even greater than the number of poems in that forthcoming collection. When Popsicle Wang heard Poet Zhao speaking of his forthcoming publication, he sent Zhao a congratulatory card and asked where it would be published. "You wouldn't be publishing it in Liu Town, would you?"

  "Of course not," Zhao replied. He recalled how, at the Virgin Beauty Competition, Wandering Zhou had mentioned a place-name and, impulsively borrowing it, he said, "It's being published in the British Virgin Islands."

  POPSICLE WANG led a luxurious and boring life. Day after day he used his television channels to pursue traces of Yanker Yu's political activities, continuously regaling people with tales of them. The people of Liu eventually grew tired of hearing these tales and began calling Popsicle Wang Brother Xianglin, after Sister Xianglin, the compulsively repetitive protagonist of that Lu Xun story. In the end, Poet Zhao was the only one who did not grow weary of Wang's stories; each time he would listen attentively, looking completely entranced and making Popsicle Wang believe that it was enough to have just one true friend in life. In fact, what Poet Zhao did not tire of was all the drinks in Wang's giant refrigerator, the empty bottles from which would pile into a mountain that scraped the sky.

  At this point, a wave of anti-Japanese sentiment swept through the nation, and the anti-Japanese parades in Shanghai and Beijing could be seen on television, in the newspapers, and all over the Web. Seeing Japanese stores in Shanghai being destroyed and Japanese cars in Shanghai being burned, a crowd of townspeople from Liu didn't want to miss out on the action, so they also went marching with big banners, looking for something to destroy or burn. When they came upon Baldy Li's sushi shop, they spiritedly walked up and smashed the windows, then brought the chairs out and burned them for two hours, though they refrained from destroying the other installations. Blacksmith Tong saw them and decided that things were not looking good, so he immediately threw out all the Japanese goods in his supermarkets and hung a huge banner in the entranceway saying: WE REFUSE TO SELL JAPANESE PRODUCTS!

  After Yanker Yu returned from his globe-trotting pursuit of political hotspots, Popsicle Wang promptly lost interest in Poet Zhao now that his real best friend had returned. Wang closed the door to the luxurious reception booth, shutting out Poet Zhao, who gazed through the window at Popsicle Wangs giant refrigerator, swallowing his saliva and sighing as he thought of the refreshments inside it.

  Wang devoutly followed Yanker Yu everywhere he went, leaving early each morning and not returning until late each evening; each night he would even yearn to share a bed with Yu. Liu Towns anti-Japanese demonstrations had in fact run their course, but after Yanker Yu returned, they again picked up steam. Whenever he spoke, political slogans in ten different languages would stream out of his mouth, which the people of Liu then learned by heart, and within ten days or so they too could utter this string of foreign slogans as needed. Yanker Yu was no longer the best tooth-yanker within one hundred li; now, having experienced political disturbances around the world, he returned to Liu Town looking and sounding like a true political leader. As he put it, "I have weathered countless political storms."

  Yanker Yu decided to take Popsicle Wang to Tokyo in order to oppose Japanese prime minister Junichiro Koizumi s annual visit to the Yasukuni shrine. When Popsicle Wang heard this, he muttered, "I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I have left Liu Town, much less left the country, and now he wants me to go to someone else's country and protest against their prime minister?" Popsicle Wang really had his doubts. He suggested delicately, "How about if we continue our protests here in Liu Town?"

  "If we protest in Liu Town, you will merely be one of the masses." Yanker Yu had political ambitions, and he directed Popsicle Wang, "But if we go to Tokyo to protest, you will truly be a politician."

  Wang couldn't care less about either the masses or politicians; all he cared about was Yanker Yu. He idolized him and knew that Yu's horizons were much broader than his own; therefore, as long as he followed Yanker Yu, he couldn't go wrong. Popsicle Wang looked at his aged face in the mirror and thought to himself that his life was almost over and he had not visited a single foreign country. He therefore gritted his teeth and resolved to accompany Yanker Yu to Tokyo, and while Yu was carrying out his political activities, Wang could do some foreign touring.

  C Liu took very seriously the company's second- and third-largest shareholders’ upcoming trip to Tokyo and arranged for a newly arrived Toyota Crown sedan to take them to the Shanghai airport. C Liu was full of good intentions. He said this was a brand-new sedan that no one had ever ridden in before and therefore Yu and Wang would be riding in a virgin car.

  Yanker Yu and Popsicle Wang sat on the Italian sofa in the luxurious reception area, waiting. When Yu saw that it was a Japanese sedan that had arrived to p
ick them up, he waved the chauffeur over and in an even tone told him, "Go and bring me a big iron hammer."

  The chauffeur was completely baffled. He looked at Yanker Yu and then at Popsicle Wang, but Wang was similarly baffled. Yanker Yu continued urging the chauffeur, "Go on."

  Popsicle Wang didn't know what the hammer was for but figured that whatever Yanker Yu said must be correct, so he too urged the chauffeur, "Go, quickly!"

  The chauffeur left stupidly, and Popsicle Wang asked Yanker Yu, "What is the hammer for?"

  "This is a Japanese product." Yu pointed at the Toyota Crown sedan outside and, crossing his legs on the Italian sofa, said, "If we ride a Japanese sedan to protest in Japan, it would become politically very sensitive."

  Wang finally understood and nodded repeatedly. He thought that Yanker Yu was truly impressive and a born politician, and that C Liu was genuinely confused. Liu knew full well that they were going to Japan to protest but still sent a Japanese sedan to pick them up, indicating that he didn't have any understanding of politics whatsoever.

  At this point the chauffeur showed up with the hammer and stood at the door of the reception area waiting for Yanker Yu's instructions. Yu gestured and said, "Smash it."

  "Smash what?"

  "Smash the Japanese product," said Yanker Yu, still speaking in an even tone of voice.

  "What Japanese product?"

  Yu pointed at the sedan outside the window and said, "That car."

  The chauffeur jumped in astonishment and stared at these two stockholders. He slowly backed out until he was standing in front of the Toyota Crown sedan, then he dropped the hammer and ran away. After a while, C Liu came over, all smiles, and explained to the two stockholders that this Toyota Crown sedan was actually not a Japanese product but, rather, a Chinese-Japanese joint venture product, and therefore at least 50 percent of it belonged to China. Popsicle Wang had always trusted C Liu and said to Yanker Yu, "That's right, its not a Japanese product."

  Yanker Yu replied very deliberately, "All political matters are of paramount importance and can't be treated haphazardly. We should retain the fifty percent that belongs to China and destroy the fifty percent that is Japanese."

  Popsicle Wang immediately sided with Yanker Yu and said, "That's right. We should destroy fifty percent."

  C Liu became livid and thought to himself that what he should be smashing with that iron hammer were those two bastards’ thick skulls. He didn't dare lose his temper in front of the stockholders, so he turned and charged toward the chauffeur, shouting, "Smash it! Quick, smash it!"

  C Liu stalked away furiously while the chauffeur lifted his hammer and, after a long hesitation, brought it down on the windshield. Yanker Yu stood up with satisfaction and, taking Popsicle Wang by the hand, said, "Let's go."

  "If we don't have a car, how are we going to get there?"

  "We'll hitch a ride," Yanker Yu replied. "We'll hitch a ride in a German sedan to go to Shanghai."

  Therefore, these two seventy-year-old tycoons walked down the street pulling their suitcases and tried to hail a taxi. Popsicle Wang was very complimentary of Yanker Yu's calm manner. Yanker Yu hadn't uttered a single vicious word, but what he had accomplished was extremely vicious. Yanker Yu nodded and said to Wang, "Politicians don't need to utter vicious words. It is only little hooligans fighting among themselves that need to use vicious language."

  Popsicle Wang nodded repeatedly, and upon remembering that he was soon going to accompany this extraordinary Yanker Yu to Japan, he couldn't help but feel a rush of pride. But when he thought the situation over again, he again became anxious and softly asked Yanker Yu, "When we go to Japan to protest, won't the Japanese police arrest us?"

  "They won't," Yu assured him, then added, "though actually, in my heart of hearts I wish they would."

  "Why?" Popsicle Wang jumped in alarm.

  Yanker Yu looked around to make sure no one was listening, then said quietly, "If we are arrested by the Japanese police, China would certainly protest and negotiate on our behalf, the United Nations would mediate, and newspapers throughout the world would print our pictures, because aren't we world-famous celebrities?"

  Seeing Popsicle Wang's confused expression, Yanker Yu said in a voice dripping with pity, "You just don't understand politics, do you?"

  BALDY LI was not one of Madam Lin's VIP customers. More than three years elapsed, and Baldy Li hadn't seen Lin Hong a single time, nor did he see any other women. The last time he and Lin Hong made love had become their eternal elegy. The news of Song Gang's death had made Baldy Li leap away from Lin Hong as though she were on fire, and that instant of surprise followed by remorse left Baldy Li at a point of complete collapse. From that point on, he became impotent or, to use his own words, "I've lost all my superpowers."

  After Baldy Li lost all his superpowers, his ambition also disappeared. When he went to work at the company, it was completely routine, like casting and then drying his nets, and he increasingly resembled a decadent emperor who had lost interest in ruling. After organizing the tofu banquet for Lin Hong, Baldy Li had handed over the position of company president to Deputy Liu.

  The day Baldy Li handed over his presidency was April 28, 2001. That night he sat on the gold-plated toilet in his bathroom as the plasma television on the wall showed an image of a Russian Federation rocket taking off. Having bought a ticket for $20 million, the American businessman Dennis Tito was wearing a space suit with an astronaut's expression to match, proudly departing on a space tour. When Baldy Li turned to look at his own reflection in the mirror and saw his pissing and shitting expression, he felt as though he had just seen a fresh flower followed by a pile of cow dung. Baldy Li was very dissatisfied by his reflection and thought how this American was traveling into space to eat, drink, piss, and shit, while here he was, wasting away his years on this toilet in this tiny town. He told himself, "I want to go, too."

  More than a year later, the South African Internet tycoon Mark Shuttleworth also spent $20 million to hitch a ride on a Russian Federation rocket. He said that they orbited the earth sixteen times a day, and therefore every day he could see sixteen sunrises and sixteen sunsets. Next the American pop star Lance Bass announced that he too would fly into space. By this point Baldy Li was as anxious as an ant on a hot frying pan and said impatiently, "There have already been three bastards who have jumped ahead of me."

  Baldy Li hired foreign students from Russia to eat and live with him and teach him Russian. To help improve his Russian faster, he vowed that he would speak only Russian in his mansion and no Chinese. This rule caused C Liu considerable distress, since when he came to report on the company's business every month, it would take him more than three hours to say what he should have been able to cover in twenty minutes. Baldy Li obviously understood everything he said but pretended he didn't understand Chinese and therefore asked the two Russian students to translate everything into Russian. After hearing the Russian, Baldy Li would shake his head pensively and would search his extremely limited Russian vocabulary for the appropriate word to respond. Unable to find the correct word, he would instead come up with some rough approximations, which the Russian students would then translate back into Chinese; but when C Liu heard the translation he would merely stare in bewilderment, having no idea what Baldy Li was trying to say. Baldy Li would also realize it hadn't come out right, but he couldn't allow himself to correct it, on account of his vow not to speak Chinese. Therefore, he would continue fruitlessly searching for the appropriate Russian words. In the end, C Liu was exhausted and felt that he was trying to speak human language with an animal, or animal language with a human, and would silently curse Baldy Li, This fucking fake foreigner!

  As Baldy Li was struggling to learn Russian he also started to train his body. First he would train in the gym, and then he started running and swimming, followed by Ping-Pong, badminton, basketball, tennis, soccer, bowling, and golf. His training routine was constantly changing—he would grow tired of each new rout
ine before two weeks had elapsed. By this point Baldy Li was leading a pure and celibate existence, having even become a vegetarian, like a monk. Apart from his Russian studies and his physical training, he would often reminisce about the excellent rice Song Gang had cooked when they were young. At the mention of Song Gang, Baldy Li would forget to speak Russian and, with an orphans pathos, he would burst into Liu Town vernacular and recite that final line of Song Gangs suicide note: "Even if we are parted by death, we will still be brothers."

  Baldy Li owned eleven restaurants in Liu Town, so he tried out each of them but couldn't find in any of them rice as good as that first successful pot of rice that Song Gang made. Baldy Li also went to other people s restaurants but couldn't find any there either. Being a generous tipper, he would still place one hundred yuan on the table before getting up and walking out when each time he found that it wasn't Song Gang rice. The people of Liu would all cook rice at home and invite Baldy Li to come over and see if it compared to the legendary Song Gang rice. For a while he went from house to house trying them out, but after a while he could tell at a glance that it wasn't Song Gang rice. He would then leave the money on the table, stand up shaking his head, and say, "It's not Song Gang rice."